Putting the Semester into Words

I could not possibly examine everything that has happened this semester nor could I even begin to describe everything I've experienced. So, I'm going to just toss out words and phrases that sum up the past few (whirlwind) months of my life...

Excitement. Sisterhood. Rush. Strength. Sickness. Samauri. Recovery. Rejuvenation. Work. Frustration. Anger. Bored. Retail. Therapy. Cleanliness. Change. Independent. Music. Parties. Late. Nights. Whimsy. FOC. Homecoming. Content. Malcontent. Irritated. Longing. Conference. Business. Cards. Resumes. Networking. Road. Trips. Understanding. Friendship. Beer. More. Beer. Late. Nights. Anticipation. Bonding. Rocky. Horror. Picture. Show. Dessert. Wishful. Angst. Confusion. Freedom. Solitute. Support. Frustration. Misunderstanding. Explosions. Compassion. Relief. Detox. Family. Amusement. Interest. Papers. More. Papers. Presentations. Social. Active. Brave. Musical. Performances. Chocolate. Feminine. Bonds. More. Beer. Fighter. Lover. Examinations. Pandering. Meeting. and. Greeting. Alcohol. Buried. Treasure. Graduate. Assitantship. Resignation. Breaking. Free. Video. Games. Hopefulness. Coffee. Faith.

Anatomy of an 11th Hour Research Paper

Six pages. A topic of your choosing as long as it relates to Air Contaminants and Industrial Ventilation. Sounds simple enough, right? Let's break this down by the hour...

Midnight. (T-minus 13.5 hours)

I Google my topic and open Academic Search Premiere through the MSU Library website. I begin reading articles and making notes. I'm really making progress and this paper will be knocked out in no time! I open a Word document and begin typing a bibliography for my paper, Water Utilities and Homeland Security Compliance.

1:00 AM

My progress is slowing a bit, as I've been stuck on my first three sentences for about 15 minutes. I begin absent mindedly doodling on a piece of paper hoping that perhaps the words will start to fall out of my brain and on to my Word document. I'm a bit worried because I'm not quite sure where I want this paper to go. However, I work to "power through" the slump and continue reading on my topic.

2:00 AM

I'm now two pages into the paper. It's slow going, but I'm doing okay. I've got a chat window open and I'm talking gun control, movie trailers, and procrastination induced fatigue with Patrick. My doodles have now taken over an entire sheet of paper.

3:00 AM

I'm four pages in and suddenly I realize I don't know what I'm talking about any more. I paint my fingernails red (Essie Scarlett O'Hara) and drink some cappucino (thanks Allison!) to fortify myself for the long night ahead of me. My doodles are now on a second and third sheet of paper. I don't know what else to say in this paper.

4:00 AM

I take off in a different direction on the paper. It looks like my paper may actually run a bit longer than the eight page limit. I'm disgusted with myself that it's taking me this long to write a paper. I can't focus and I'm starting to get hungry. Suddenly I am aware that in an hour, it will be 5 in the morning and I could go get a McDonald's Breakfast Burrito, one of my favorite things in the world (this week, anyway). I have a new goal: finish the paper and go get some breakfast.

5:00 AM

Everything is complete except for some citation and a conclusion to the paper...which I declare a total hack job. I don't like my topic, I don't like what I've written. However, this is what I'll hand in 8 hours from now. I hop in my car and head across town for breakfast burrito goodness...only to find the golden arches are dark. So, I head toward Burger King hoping to get a good (though slightly inferior) Crossan'wich (where does the appostrophe go anyway?). Much to my chagrin, I realize Burger King is still closed as well. My only two choices are Arby's and Hardee's. I choose Hardees, the breakfast solutioln of my high school years. The menu frightens me-everything looks like "soul cooking" between two biscuits. These days they even have pork chop biscuits and fried chicken tenderloin biscuits. Looking at the low-carb breakfast bowl gave me chest pains, so I opted for a Frisco Breakfast sandwich, reasoning that I like Frisco burgers, so I'll probably like this too. In my youth, I wouldn't eat egg on sandwiches...even when older, I wouldn't do it. This summer, however, I discovered that I could and would one early morning when given a breakfast sandwich (with egg!) upon returning from a 5 am out of town air sampling job. I've been eating breakfast sandwiches with egg ever since-go figure. As soon as I returned home, a strange thought hit me: though we touched on Safe Drinking Water Act briefly, the paper topic was suppose to cover an Air Contaminant Issue. I loudly say an expletive (the 'mother' of all explatives) as I realized that I've written a paper on the wrong topic. It's almost 6 am and I have to start over. Motherfucker indeed!

6:00 AM

Write what you know. Write what you know. I begin typing a paper on Air Sampling Strategies. Hey, it's what I did all summer, I should know how it works. I grab a reference book on the topic of Air Sampling and get to work. The words just ooze out of me. I think the grease from the breakfast sandwich is helping.

7:00 AM

I'm nearly finished with this paper. I have a page and a half to go. I'm referencing like a madwoman. I am very awake, which I'm attributing to adrenaline. My back is starting to burn and I attribute it to my chair and desk layout.

8:00 AM

I've hit 6 pages. And they are 6 strong, quality pages. This paper blows my first one out of the water. Three to four more paragraphs to completion.

8:50 AM

9 pages total. 9 quality pages. 9 pages that I won't be sheepishly handing in. I think I shall take this up to school, turn it in, come home, and pass out.

In conclusion...guess you could say it has been a productive evening. I've completed not one but 2 research papers. Who knows-perhaps the water security one could be used for a later class or article submission of some sort. To accentuate the positive, I'll go with it being a good thing that I can't follow directions-it may have saved my grade.

Panic!

It's the week before finals! Everyone freak out! Oh the terror! Oh the horror! Oh the crabby, tired, worried people. I actually almost hit a girl with my car the other day....three times...and believe it or not, it wasn't on purpose. She kept wandering off the sidewalk and on to the road out side Sparks Hall. Actually, at one point, she was walking down the road in front of my car, oblivious to me being behind her...in car...though I was honking and revving my engine at her. Just when I thought to myself "Forget it!" and was going to run her down to get her attention, I heard a car horn behind me in the form of Ashley Ireland, who I suppose was the angel on my shoulder for that day. By the time I was finished waving like a happy toddler out the back window, the road-wandering girl had returned to the sidewalk. I guess she'll be allowed to live another day...

How NOT to Order a Cake at Wal-Mart

This past weekend was Gibson's birthday, so Amy and I decided that this occasion called for a cake. But it couldn't be just any cake...it had to be the best cake ever. So, after some deliberation, it was decided that the only cake suitable for such an occasion would have to feature two things that Gibson loves: Indiana Jones and Zombies. We decided that Indiana Jones whipping a zombie would be the perfect picture to adorn said cake and that we'd obtain this cake from the Wal-Mart bakery. Well, let me be the first to tell you that asking for a picture of "Indiana Jones whipping a zombie" will get you a frightened look from the cake lady followed by a bewildered response of "We can't do that here. You'll need a specialty cake shop." And I don't know if it was the way I made this request of what the deal was, but she responded with 'specialty cake shop' in a way that made me think of the Al Roker with hershey nipples cake referenced on...what was it? The Family Guy? Anyway, we ended decorating the cake with GI Joe figurines-Duke, Cobra Commander, and the Baroness in a stand off. I also decided that in a lot of ways, college birthday parties are a lot like the parties we had as children, only with alcohol. Then again, I grew up in a German-Catholic community, so it's all the same to me.

The Incredibles

Went to check out this film with Mac, Chase, Shea, and Ole Dude tonight. It was a very entertaining film and the animation was impressive. The premise was very cool, but I didn't like the films message that the B'hai Faith would solve all problems (oh wait, that was when there was a malfunction and commercials started showing in place of movie). The people at the Cheri were quite cool in that they gave us passes to see another movie. Good job with the customer service!

Rage against the Study Groups

I'm in the bowels of Waterfield...multitasking...trying to eek out suitable answers for my Ergonomics homework, draft a really important letter, and not kill the members of a study group that has decided to set up shop at a table 10 feet southwest of me.

I know that the library is the optimum place to study and large tables where groups can meet to review the anatomy of whatever or learn to read, write, and/or count are few and far between. In fact, last I heard, the library was encouraging people to use its services. However, what is the price that we, the meek library goer must pay in order for these...these...mobs of bookworms to do whatever it is they do.*

*The answer is 'annoy the shit out of everyone else by committing one or more of the following offenses:

1. Not utilizing their indoor voices.
2. Causing a ruckus. Sure, some good natured teasing does wonders to get the creative juices flowing, but must things really escalate into a full on paperwad war? Seriously folks, take it outside.
3. Partaking in unabbreviated cell phone calls. I used to be one of those people that thought that cell phones should never be used in the library. Ever. Then, I got one of my own and a job and an elderly and ill family member...and a social life, and I realized that using a cell phone in the library is not the end of the world, given that a) the calls are kept brief, and b) volume is kept to a minimum. I'm thinking the chick in the pick shirt screaming into her cell phone must not have gotten that memo...nor the one about using her indoor voice.
4. Musical chairs. I don't see the need-everyone has a seat and there's no music. It's recommended that everyone finds a seat where they are fairly certain they will be able to comfortably settle in for the evening...a place where they do not have to get up and walk around the table every few minutes to get a better look at what is going on, etc.
5. Waving around large pieces of poster board. I'm sure that most people can understand the complicated workings of the Krebs cycle as easily in small print as they can on a poster. And even if they can understand best by looking at a poster, especially one that isn't being waved around like a foam "We're #1" finger at a basketball game.

Now, having ranted about all of that, I'd like to discuss some of the things I'd love to do in the library before my time at Murray comes to an end.

1. I'd love to "surf" the periodicals on one of those rolling book carts. What a thrill it'd be to ride the waves of research. Cowabunga dudes.
2. Play a game of football. Not flag football...full contact football. In the basement alone, I see at least two areas which would make for a great (abbreviated) field.
3. Host a picnic. Quasi-regulated tempertature, ample lighting, large tables and many carpeted areas...all reasons why we should skip the quad and take the basket to the library. The carpet (in places) is even green...one that perhaps one day will be found in nature.
4. Get arrested and hauled out in handcuffs. If the library is the place to see and be seen, then when the po-po finally come for me, I hope they find me here. If you've got to be arrested, you may as well have an audience.
5. Perform an exorcism. The library is a great place to do this because it's quiet-so you can concentrate. And, if something goes wrong, there's lots of reference material around so corrective action can be (hopefully) figured out. Also, perhaps the demons would be released into Waterfield, and I don't know about you, but I can't think of a better way to spice up an evening of studying ventilation systems than having the unholy spawn of satan running rampant.
6. Covertly follow someone into a quiet corner of the bookstacks and then start shoving books off the shelves at them to recreate that scene from Ghostbusters. The reaction may be fear. The reaction may be anger. But best of all, a reaction is guaranteed.

Thanksgiving Break: The Highlight Reel

Either too much happened over the week I was out of Murray...or most of it was too mundane to go into much detail. Regardless, it was a great break and I feel very rested. So, to save wordiness and just get to the good stuff, I present the Thanksgiving 2004 Highlight Reel.

Drinking with Grandpa

Monday midmorning, I took some McDonald's sandwiches over to Grandpa!'s house and we settled around the kitchen table and had a lovely lunch and some great conversation. Somehow we got on the topic of whiskeys and the other "beverages" that we enjoy. Grandpa! had me retrieve this ancient bottle of Beam (I suppose this bottle was created before the time of Jim?) from the closet. It was adorned with Remington artwork and had been given to him sometime in the 1970s. So, we drank Beam and sprite...he polished down several, I choked down my one and then went home, feeling ill. I joke about having been...drank under the table by the elderly...well, it's finally actually happened.

Shopping in St. Louis

Tuesday morning, I ventured out to the Westfield Shopping Center out on I-270 to do some of my Christmas shopping. Located in Des Peres, MO, one of the nicest/wealthiest suburbs, this is now my preferred mall, as it has a Sephora, a beauty products superstore. I picked up a few items to try and had fun playing with all the testers and spraying myself with samples from the giant wall of perfume. While at that mall, I also picked up some gifts for my lady friends and had a really awesome vanilla frozen drink from the Nordstrom coffee shop. Dare I call that vanilla freeze the best I've had? It had a very strong vanilla flavor and was as smooth as could be...not a hint of bitterness nor a chunk of ingredient was present.

Southpaws Sports Bar

Another place I'm growing increasingly fond of...it features all the components I feel are needed for a great sports bar. One: there are televisions every where...good ones at that. They are high definition, flat screen-no small tvs. In addition to the requesite 2-3 wall-sized screens, flat screen tvs literally line the walls (in a line, 10 feet off the ground) of this place. Two: the drink selection is fantastic. If you can think of it, they can make it. Three: the bartenders are friendly and attractive. But, they aren't too friendly, which is great because there are just times when you want to belly up to the bar, watch the game, and not have to make stupid small talk. However, it's also great when you're out with girlfriends and need something handsome and friendly to talk to, have take your picture, bring you things, etc. Four: the food is good. I never go to bars expecting to get a four course meal...sometimes you just need something to soak up the beverages a bit. They have this really awesome shrimp tail in garlic sauce appetizer which really makes me happy. Wash it down with Diet Coke and it's the perfect light meal. Speaking of non-alcoholic beverages, this brings me to...Five: the booze alternatives aren't watered down. The sodas are as crisp and refreshing as fountain sodas can be. Six: the plastic cups non-alcoholic beverages come in are plastic and yours to keep. I now have a full set of four, so look for these cups the next time you are over.

Thanksgiving Dinner

Turkey, ham, dressing, gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, peas, green bean casserole, mushroom poppers, rolls, gelatinous cranberries, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, chocolate pie...ample leftovers to send to Grandpa!, me, etc. It's good to have variety and good to have plenty of leftovers for Grandpa! to have in his freezer (since he doesn't cook much these days) and for me to take back for lunches. I've been eating my leftovers for lunch and breakfast these days...

Christmas with the Kranks

It's no Christmas Vacation...but really, that particular movie is the gold standard for a reason. It had some good physical comedy, some good lines, Dan Aykroyd, and a feel-good ending. As far as Christmas movies for this season, use the money you could be wasting on Polar Express to see this instead. I'm pretty sure you'll have a better time watching this movie.

Shift in Perspective

Everything looks more clear and hopeful this morning. It's like I woke up and suddenly more things made more sense than they did the day before. I still don't have all the answers nor do I know how to maneuver about everything, but I understand and have some insight...and sometimes gaining both is half the battle.

Some Things I Want to Say before I Leave for Nashville

1. I'm so glad that my Thanksgiving Break has started. This will be a good chance to just goof around and detox from Murray-land and get myself ready for the last few weeks of the semester. I need some time away to sort through some stuff in my head and plot my next move.

2. I'm going to see Miss Saigon tonight. It features the two things I love most: Vietnamese hookers and singing. Me love you long time indeed...

3. I'm, as they say, single these days. Consider this my official notification and no questions will be answered. It's amicable and we're still friends. Inquire about anything else and you'll get my Ari Fleischer impression. This brings us to number...

4. Beer. I need some, you have any?

5. Grandpa's Birthday. I'm still planning this event in my head, so if you have any good buddy activities for Grandpa and I to partake in, please post them in comments.

So now I shall finish compiling a bunch of cds that suit my mood of late, or are just good music in general (Stones, Dylan, etc) and prepare for a night in Nashville. I'm feeling good...I'm feeling peppy. I'm chanting my new (borrowed, thanks) mantra, let the eagle soar...

The Current Alphabet, Part One

The ABCs of what's hip and hot in my Murray these days...

A is for Alcohol

Duh.

B is for BangBus

Combine hard core porn and a moving short bus and you've got this winning combination which makes for great group viewing and commentary. It's also fun to watch people's reaction when they learn it's all fake (like wrestling).

C is for Cooking to Hook Up

Consider this book a battle plan for dating and relating. It lines up everything from what to cook to what to wear to what books to have on the coffee table and what music to play on the important night. Besides, I figure strategy is a two-way street and while I'm not set on catching myself a girl, it can't hurt in luring in the guys.

D is for Dolphins

Did you know that they are sexually very human like? Dolphins do it for fun, do it with themselves, and do it with dolphins of the same gender. However, gay-dolphin marriage isn't recognized by Atlantis, so they mus settle for commitment ceremonies and go without tax breaks.

E is for Evangelists

The one week I decide to go to Louisville, some religious nut-job comes to MSU and promises fire and brimstone for us all. While we didn't get fire and brimstone, we did get some rain and an 80% chance of thundershowers.

F is for Fights in the Quad

Tonight, I donned a robe and a towel and watched as Gibson and Drew "fought" over my status in a nativity scene as part of the Racer Patrol paradoy which will air on MSU News-11. Which was better-the towel smack, the near-pants drop, or the sirens that filled the air as we wrapped the scene?

Boiling Points

I eat my feelings; I stuff them down. For a myriad of reasons I won't go into right now, I consciously attempt to suppress what I think and feel in an attempt to keep the universe harmonious. I lay in bed at night and I think of all the ways that saying what I think/feel will permanently alter and destroy the nifty little universe I have constructed for myself and then I mourn for the things I will never experience (possibility) and mentally chastise myself for not having the intestinal fortitude (or guts, if you will) to act or say. Simply put, I'm a weenie and it's just not working for me anymore. Therefore this is the week...this is the week that I start making my moves and lining up all the stars and planets and whatever else I can do so that I can go home and enjoy Thanksgiving Break with some semblance of closure for some things and some idea of what to do about others. But as for right now...the immediate present...I am in hell. How am I in hell, you ask? Let me count the ways...

Job

My job review is tomorrow. I've been cultivating bad feelings toward my job since September and despite my best efforts, they keep intensifying. Every day, it's all I can do to not march in, clean out my desk, and leave.

Interpersonal Relations

I don't think I'm doing so well at this lately either. I'm actually feeling rather surly this evening. I'm feeling really restless to boot.

Self-Image

Lately, I feel that no matter how hard I try, I will never be pretty or attractive enough. A strong personality is about all I have going for me and with that and no looks to back it up, I'm like a one legged man in an ass-kicking contest.

Creativity

I have all of these wonderful things to say and some really great ideas...but I just can't get them out. I think a lot of this has to do with the self-image stuff.

So, in conclusion, I'm in limbo...I guess I'll do some things to try to jolt my life back to center...or at least near it and I'll start doing all of this from the moment I wake up tomorrow morning. So consider this a preemptive apology to everyone for just...everything. If you see me in the next few days, just be understanding and reassuring. I'm positive this is just some sort of a dark phase and the clouds will soon pass...but right now it seems that resolution can't come fast enough.

Thought of the Day

Hiding my ever-growing contempt for (fill in the blank) is getting to be about as easy as hiding an elephant up my ass.

Late Night Book Binge

I'm so tired, I can't sleep...so I'm buying books off amazon.com. It's a good thing my parents are coming into town this weekend because I think I just spent my grocery money on books. What I ordered:

I am Charlotte Simmons by Tom Wolfe. Read an excerpt of it in RollingStone and now I need to read this entire book. Also, currently having an infatuation with all things college-related helped me make this impulse buy. But hey, it's Tom Wolfe, so it's all good.

Queen Bees and Wannabes by Rosiland Wiseman. I was watching the special features on the dvd of Mean Girls and I was struck with a brilliant idea of a workshop based on the ideas discussed in this book. That, and as a former tortured adolescent myself, I find the subject matter quite interesting.

Cooking to Hook Up: The Bachelor's Date-Night Cookbook by Ann Marie Michaels and Drew Campbell. After taking a quiz about this book (c/o Ames' blog) and discovering that I was a "Progressive Girl," this book caught my attention with it's premise of telling guys what to cook for the type of girl he is trying to snare. The purpose of this book is two-fold: better understand the woo-ing techniques that may be employed by men and picking up a few simple recipes. I figure if this book is geared toward men, then the recipes shouldn't be overly challenging (good for those with college kitchens).

High Fideltity by Nick Hornby. Great movie, so I have hopes for a spectacular book.

The Daily Show with Jon Steward Presents America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction. This way, I can curl up in bed and have my day's moment of zen.

Musings from the Library

Here I sit, in the basement of Waterfield (aka "the library") with my walkman and laptop trying to complete my take home exam for Legal Aspects of Safety and Health. In order to complete this exam, I am to use various government websites to answer questions about environmental legislation and OSHA reform. This is boring, so I think I'll analyze the various characters encountered in the library instead.

At the table to my southeast, I see three young men working on some sort of chart at a table completely covered in books, notes, and other various study materials. At first I thought "ah, pre-law" but after observing their level of uptightness and utter lack of humor, I immediately identified them as pre-med majors studying organic chemistry. I was actually pre-med for a semseter, but ditched that program in favor of curriculum in computer science where life didn't consist of a stream of "wash-out" classes and anal retentive would-be doctors. While I cannot accurately pass judgement on the pre-med majors at Murray State, my past experience at Carbondale leads me to believe that the ones here are probably as up-tight and un-funny as the ones up there...though I highly doubt the pre-med majors here dabble in recreational drugs as much as the ones in Carbondale.
Due east of me is a girl intently writing in a notebook. A math major? No, there's no open book in front of her and I see no calculator. Perhaps an education major working on a lesson plan to submit in tomorrow's class. Afterall, her notebook does appear to be turned at an odd angle.
To the south of the supposed ed-major is a girl in glasses and a yellow sweatshirt...she appears to be studying for something as opposed to actually doing homework. She looks studious-I think it's the glasses. I can tell, however, that she likely lives in one of the residential colleges (dorms) because she is wearing one of those yellow "Live Strong" bracelets and to the best of my knowledge, those can only be obtained in the res. colleges. Directly west of me are two fellows working at a table. One is working at a laptop and the other is assisting him in some way. I think they are probably putting together some sort of presentation. The view of the screen is obstructed by one of the fellows and I think it would be overly obvious if I were to try to look at what he is working on...I don't even know where to begin speculating on that one. However, I can plainly see that the fellow to my southwest is working on something biology-related. He has a book with a double-helix on the cover on his desk and a spiral-bound course book, which indicates he is enrolled in a laboratory course.

Next time I am down here studying, I need to sit in a more sparsely populated portion of the building. Even when I'm in an area where I can't people watch, I still find a way to distract myself using the others around me. Time to make assumptions about me...laptop (what's she working on), walkman (what's she listening to), Metroid tshirt (nerd!), anonymous black notebook...

My Razor Sharp Wit Won't Save Me Now

I've heard the phrase 'to talk one's self out of something' but now I find it more appropriate to be able to 'talk one's self into something.' I guess talking yourself into something could be a nice way of saying that you use words to get your way. In the big scheme of things, I suppose I do all right with this, but sometimes I realize that no matter one's conversation skills or sharp wit, there's always that human factor to take into consideration. When an idea is set in mind, little can be done to dislodge or change said idea. I'm learning that I'm going to need to just accept that no matter how well crafted what I say or write is, it is not powerful enough to change ideas. I have no power here. I have no control over this matter. I'm merely a source of amusement or annoyance, I have yet to decide which it is. But regardless of what I am, I cannot ever attain what I strive to be. I does not matter how great my ideas. It does not matter how profound my words. Sometimes you either have 'it' or you don't. I, my friend, obviously do not have it...and it sucks more immensely than words can convey.

Time Travel

Daylight Saving Time is officially now in effect. I get two 2am's today and fortunately, I have no right to wrong...I have no actual need to relive the hour in attempt to get it right. It is a shame that I only have the time between 2 am and...2 am to get a 'redo.' It'd be more practical to use it for any hour of the day I choose. I'm torn between using that hour to sleep more or alter things I've said. On one hand, that extra hour of sleep would be nice and with this being college, I should get it while I can. However, I'm sure that I've made as big of a fool of myself today as any day, but at least today I get the chance to be more suave about things. Then again, it could be argued that I'm inherently clumsy at social situations, so even during my 'redo,' I'd end up making a fool of myself. Oh well...I'll take any extra hour/chance I can get. The worst thing about this, though, is that there will be days where I will be at work before the sun is up and home after the sun goes down. If I want to continue my reveling after dark, I'd best invest in a flashlight.

The Amityville Horror

Katie and I commemorated this year's Halloween with pasta at Applebees, brownie cake, and a viwing of the 1979 thriller, "The Amityville Horror." Parts of the movie were creepy, but it really didn't bother me at all. However, the fact that this was based on a true story, means that I now have something to 'google' while up past my bed time. Thus, I now present Five Facts about Amityville Horror

1. George Lutz is an actual person. He's an ex-marine that lives in Pennsylvania.
2. Ronald Defeo, Jr., the man who murdered his family, is still alive and now resides in the Greenhaven Correctional Facility. He is serving six consecutive life sentences for killing his family.
3. The address of the Amityville house is 112 Ocean Avenue.
4. The Lutz's knew of the killings that had occurred in the house but had few reservations about it. The decision to purchase the home was made because Kathy Lutz's were not concerned with the events that took place at the house and that the prior events at the house did not seem to affect the children.
5. The Lutz's purchased the home for $80,000. (That's a lot of money for the late 1970s.)

You can read more about the Amityville haunting here.

It's an interesting movie, but I don't think I'd go as far to call it 'great' or even 'good' for that matter. James Brolin's hair/appearance was one of the most frightening things about the film and every time Margot Kidder shrieked, I expected her to then leap out the window, run down the street, and hide under her neighbor's car. If you frighten easily, this movie will bother you, if you don't frighten easily, it'll just give you the creeps instead. And if you're like me (big nerd), you'll find yourself reading on the actual events that inspired this film after the credits roll.

Piss Poor Decision Making?

I say the wrong things and I do the wrong things. I do things with fuzzy logic behind it. I do things with no actual plan in place. I do things impulsively. I don't know all the answers and I don't know what the future holds and both of those bother me greatly. I do know, however, that we learn from each experience and hopefully gain wisdom or at least insight into ourselves or insight into others...

I know that sometimes the subconscious is way smarter than our conscious...so I'm just going to follow it and see what happens.

To be Drunk and Alone...

After laying face down on the floor for about 15 minutes, I decided to get up and pull my hair back in case I should vomit. Feeling a weighted sensation on my chest, I decided it wasn't the smartest thing in the world to top off a night of Amber Bock and Lebatt Blue with Wild Turkey. I feel like I could throw up, but I can't and probably won't. I sucks to lay on the floor alone and yet I'm no longer on the floor...instead, I'm at my computer typing strangely well. I wish I weren't alone right now; I just want someone to talk to-someone who understands what it's like be a brown corduroy, as we're few and far between in this world. Yes I like popsicles and yes sometimes I feel I am all alone in this world...but never so much as when I'm face down on the living room floor feeling like I'm riding the swings ride at the county fair. I don't have to be laying face down on this burber carpet all by myself right now. It doesn't have to be like this. I don't have to even be tucked into bed...all it would take is a reassuring voice to tell me to pick myself off the ground and put myself into a bed. It's been dying for a while. But never has it felt so dead as now, as I lie face down on this coarsely carpeted floor.

Thoughts on Frontage Roads

When driving down the highway of life, it's inevitable that periodically you'll take the wrong exit ramp or end up going in a direction opposite of where you intend to go. But what do you do if you're headed in the right direction, you're sort of on the right road...but maybe you're not on the freeway...maybe you're on a frontage road. You'll end up at the same destination, but you'll have things like stop signs and areas where the speed limit is 35 mph. The road works, but you'd rather be blazing down the interstate at 70 mph. But maybe traffic is backed up on the interstate, so it's moving at the same pace as the traffic on the frontage road, so the scenario is now that regardless of which road you take, you'll end up where you want to be in approximately the same amount of time. Frontage roads are nice...you can easily pull into a gas station for a soda or a place to use the restroom...Krispy Kremes are readily accessible on frontage roads...so why does the interstate seem so appealing?

3-Alarm WakeUp


Friday morning was my third morning in a row of sleeping through my alarm clocks. That's correct-I used the plural form-because until Friday, I had two of them: a traditional one that plays loud music and makes a screeching noise next to my head and the alarms on my cellular phone. As how I'm easily distracted by shiny items (and the internet) between bouts of grooming, I've taken to setting the alarms so that I am up at least 90 minutes before I have to be somewhere or be departing for somewhere. This extra time has worked out well, seeing as how lately I've been sleeping at about an hour (sometimes more) through my alarm. I'm not even hitting the snooze button and rolling over. I flat out sleep right through it. Of course, seeing as how in my life, I've slept through three tornadoes and two earthquakes, it's really not surprising that power of an LG phone and a GE alarm clock are no match for the magnitude of my slumber. I did consider connecting a car battery to my bed to um, jump start (har har) my mornings, but instead I decided to get another alarm clock.

I purchased my second actual alarm clock at the charming (and by charming, I mean unreasonably dirty) Wal-Mart in Centralia (Land of Lincoln). The store is currently being remodeled (for once, it's dirty with a quasi-valid excuse) and apparently, after the changes have been made, there will be absolutely, positively no room whatsoever for alarm clocks. Ergo, I may be one of the last people to ever purchase an alarm clock in the history of Centralia Wal-Mart. What I fail to understand, though, is why alarm clocks? Of all the things this store may cease to carry, why did they decide alarm clocks. Aside from Big Lots, I can't think of any other place in town (Radio Shack is often too price prohibitive to be considered) where one may obtain this necessary item? However, what Centralia Wal-Mart lacks in alarm clocks, I'm sure they will be able to make up with in weird and paranoid stares. From the reaction my inquiry received, I apparently forgot to use my censored introduction and instead said something along the lines of (while not wearing pants?) "Hello, I am from Mars. I require an alarm clock to rouse me from deep sleep and help my ship return to Mars." I guess next time, I'll have to do a better job of concealing my Martian origins.


Until then, live long and prosper...



Bonus: Funny Centralia Wal-Mart Story

In August of 2001, I accidentally shoplifted a box of resume paper from the Centralia Wal-Mart. Well, I guess it wasn't actually shoplifting since I realized I had strolled out of the store with it once in the parking lot. Ames and I were dashing through the store and I had picked up a box of resume paper so that my plea for a job would look nice...though later I'd discover that apparently, I'm not even fit to grind coffee or empty change machines (a sampling of jobs I didn't get), but that's not my point. Actually there isn't a point to this at all. I freaked out when I realized I had stolen the paper and scurried back into the store and hopped into a checkout line, legally purchased said paper and I think no one (save for Ames) was the wiser. So the moral of the story is...don't ever rush me while I'm shopping. I may end up inadvertently robbing the place.

Travellin'

This week marked my second trip to Louisville. While driving the entire length of the Western Kentucky Parkway is arguably one of the most boring stretches of road I've traveled, it is quite a pretty drive in the fall-with rust and gold colored trees lining both sides of the road for a large portion of the drive. I tried to cram as much fun and activity into this trip as I could, though I was only up there for about 25 hours. The actual purpose of going was to attend an Environmental Health and Safety "Mega Meeting" featuring a lecture on the reorganization of Kentucky labor offices and the meeting was informative, networking opportunities great, and I had a decent time.

Highlights of Louisville

1. Professional meetings are fun. I think I need to be sent to more of them.
2. Driving in Louisville is not bad because the roads are well marked.
3. Allison making potato soup and cinnamon biscuits for me.
4. Curling up in bed with a stack of magazines and Maddy the dog.
5. Lunch hour shopping at Jefferson Mall. I picked up some pear scented shampoo, so next time you see me, smell my hair-it's glorious.

Inspiration Week

There was something about this past week that made all the colors in the world brighter, everything taste better, and the whole world just seem more vivid and hopeful. I am inspired.

While little happened this past week which would cause it to be bestowed the title Best.Week.Ever., I did run across a few moments that definitely make me smile when I play them over in my head.

I hope the momentum of last week will help me as I fling myself into this next week, with my two tests and trip to Illinois on Friday. While I am inspired in general, unfortunately, it's not the case with my studies. There weather's too nice and there is too much fun stuff going on right now...and honestly, I'd rather do about anything other than study...which likely explains my freshly mopped floors.

Where are They Now?

Six years. Six long years. Six long years ago on a football field in the middle of a cornfield somewhere in Illinois...that was the last time I saw a friend that forever colored my life in so many shades of wonderful that I can't even begin to describe. Six years ago Saturday. I firmly believe that we meet certain people in life purely to learn from them. Learn things about life, ourselves, love, etc. I guess I could say I learned how to unabashedly live from this person. How to enjoy the simple, stupid things in life and to go have fun and do my own thing without giving a damn about what was cool or what the world around me thought. And then as soon as this person appeared, he was gone. Every now and then, I'll hear minor updates on what he's up to or where he's traveling to, but for all practical purposes, he's faded into the ether and will never again materialize. He's off being free somewhere and enlightening the world...I guess that's his job. But I'd be a damn liar if I said that even six years later, when I think about missing my friend that it doesn't bring a lump to my throat. ...and then I think of that "night at the biker bar" and I can't stop laughing...

A Picture's Worth...

I don't always take photographs for sentimental value. I don't always take photographs for art. I do, however, always take photographs for truth. You can tell a lot about a person by how they photograph. Not necessarily their photogenicity, but how they hold their bodies, the type of smile (if any) they flash the camera, what they are doing when the picture is taken...I think candid photos can give a good represntation of a person. The type of smile-forced, natural, laughing, what was happeneing at the moment, the gleam in one's (red)eye... I have fallen in and out of love all over again with many a person through photographs-not so much because of the attractiveness of a picture, but because of the truth behind it. Many Native Americans were afraid of having their pictures taken because they believed that the camera was a device for stealing the soul. I think the camera is a good device for capturing a good representation of it.

The Phenomenon of the NSYAE

Every moment in college in wrapped in a certain urgency moment in high school or "adult" life rarely has. When you're in college, it's like you have this terminal disease, and at the end of four years, you pass into adult living, which typically requires a sudden move to a new city in a new time zone far, far away from the ones you know and love. See that person sitting next to you in English? How about your friend sitting across the table from you? When you're in college, there's a good chance that unless something happens, some certain chain of events is set in place, that it's likely you could never see that person again once the semester ends. And that, my friend, can be quite a jarring realization.

This can wreak havoc on how you'd normally react to people, you see. I will admit to having given out my phone number to people, even when I really didn't want to, because I realized that once they leave campus, that we may never again see each other. I've also found myself asking the bagel lady to 'tell me a bit about herself' because I just HAD to know from where the bagel lady hails. That realization makes you react to people as if they are dying. "Oh, that poor boy may never come back here again, I think I'll give him my number." Is that rational thinking? NO! But, it happens and it's all a result of what I've taken to calling the "Never See You Again Effect."

The "Never See You Again Effect," or NSYAE as those in the know call it, is characterized by a sudden feeling of urgent desperation and sadness. It is guilt, confusion, and a little bit of temporary insanity rolled into one panicked mess. All of your feelings for a person, no matter how benign, are suddenly intensified and you find yourself not knowing what to do. You also realize that this is your last chance to find out answers to any questions that you may have ever had, no matter how ridiculous they may seem. Loss of rational thought and impulsiveness are classic symptoms of NSYAE. And, unfortunately, once stricken with NYSAE, there is nothing that can be done. If you know someone that has this, your best bet is to either try to stop them, or if you're not around when NSYAE strikes, to listen and reassure your friend once the episode has passed. Lying is a good solution too. "Sure you did the right thing by agreeing to go on a date with that person." "Don't worry, I'll miss the smelly person that lives down the hall too." "Sure the bagel lady will still give you bagels when you come back for Homecoming. I don't think you freaked her out too badly." "Hey, every cries when they fill in the last circle on their last scantron test. I'm sure your basket-weaving class was a killer."

Of course, since momentary emotionally-induced impulsive stupidity...I mean NSYAE carries just slightly less stigma peeing your pants when you sneeze, you are likely to find yourself hiding your condition and having to deal with it on your own. For this, you must learn to better understand your inner id. Why do you suddenly decide to act or feel a certain way? Examine these feelings. Embrace them. Weigh the consequences and then decide whether to act on it or suppress it. So act and think carefully.

But do it all knowing that this may be your last chance...ever.

So the next time someone asks you an utterly bizarre question, uncharacteristically hits on you, randomly grabs you and hugs you, or just won't stop staring, give them the benefit of the doubt and deduce that they may be suffering from NSYAE. Afterall, with this being college, who knows where we will all be in a few months?

That's FOC'd up...

Festival
Of
Champions

Foc.

This makes for a nice play on everyone's favorite explative, don't you think? How convenient for what turned out to be one of my favorite parties of the year. There was nothing groundbreaking about this party. Nothing overly cool happened. Hell, with the beer line being so slow (it was like waiting for bread in mother-Russia), I did not even develop a buzz of any sort. However, I saw many people that I've not had a chance to see much lately, bonded with sisters, and even learned a little bit about myself tonight. Also, I was laughed at, kissed on the head by a random dude in the beer line, hit on, forgotten about at log cabin (log cabin-you're moving from the 'in' column to the 'out' column) , and had my first Hardees Cinnamon Raisin Biscuit in a while. And I'm either easier to read than I thought or Cawein is clarvoyant. Oh, and to complete the party experience, I saw people puking and left in the 2-something a.m. rush of people when word was traveling that an underage partier had come down with a nasty case of alcohol poisoning. True or not, the crowd was thinning and "roughening up" and I had a chance for a ride home, so I took it and left. Besides, had I taken a cab, I would have missed out on running around dorm circle, strutting into Elizabeth College, time with Kelly, and of course, those sweet, sweet Cinnamon Raisin Biscuits

Super Efficient Happy Fun Folding

This is the inspiration for how I shall fold my tshirts from now on...

My current system for folding a shirt works a little something like this...first, I lay the shirt on the bed with the front facing down and smooth it out a bit. Next, I take each sleeve and fold the sleeve and one-quarter of the shirt on top of the rest of the shirt so i have one long rectangle of shirt. Finally, I fold the shirt in half so I end with one neat square. Often, I'll add another fold to make a smaller square. This works well for putting more clothes into a drawer.

The efficient Asian method involves no flipping, turning or elaborate movements. If you watch the video, you'll notice that once smoothed out with the hands strategically placed, a shirt can be folded in one smooth hand movement. It's quite awe-inspiring. Like mine, the end result is a neat square, but I'd love to learn to do it the Asian way. Besides, it looks cool and that could be my new party trick...I'll be the girl that folds shirts.

Five Friday Facts

1. I'm wearing Spongebob Square Panties today. If you stop me and ask to see them, I will show them to you.

2. I had McDonald's Breakfast Burritos with hot sauce for breakfast today. I love breakfast burritos and endorse them whole-heartedly.

3. I woke up in a really odd mood today. Part of it was having a great night's sleep, another part was having really weird dreams which I recall as being cool, though I can't remember them. Finally, having been woken up by a corgi-dog hopping on me has put a nice, happy gloss on the world, so I'm sure I'm in an interesting mood today as a result. I also whole-heartedly endorse corgi-dogs, though I had no idea they were so energetic.

4. I'm driving to my parents' house in Illinois this evening, but I wish I were leaving later in the night. I feel the urge to play some trance music and have about 200 miles of road hypnosis. It's a great feeling.

5. I'm feeling really nerdy today. This is my preferred mood. I feel smarter, funnier, and more attractive when feeling nerdy because nerds are sexy and will one day rule us all! ...keep that in mind next time you're giving one of us a wedgie.

It's the Little Things that Do It

Tonight, while relaxing on the couch and reading Rollingstone magazine with Devin, he pointed out Michael Moore decided to drop out of college because he couldn't find a parking spot. I didn't find this so hard to believe because one of my grand theories on life is that it's rarely some large, cataclysmic event that promotes major life change; it's always the little things and the way they push us over the edge. Of course, being pushed over the edge isn't always a bad thing. We're not talking about the usual postal worker that shot up the place because the coffee in the break room was cold or anything overly negative like that (though while on the subject, yes, I do think it's little things like cold coffee that often do it). I'm talking about the guy that leaves his job to start his own business or the lady that decides to give her life long dream a go. I think I was pushed over the edge at work today. I'm not sure what did it or even what happened as a result...other than I've consciously decided that I don't like my job. I've got a little under a year to figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life but I know that whatever move I make next, I refuse to work at a place that is in any way similar to the place I am working now.

Speaking of college and decisions, the moment I decided to leave Carbondale occurred when I couldn't get a computer program to compile. I had literally stayed up all night trying to get all six files work to work in conjuction with each other to no avail. I went to class that morning, stared into space for the duration of the class, and then took my broken program to the instructor for help and then went to the computer lab to try to make it work...and it didn't. So, I gathered my things, logged off the computer and went to the admissions and registration building, had my records faxed to Murray State, dropped my summer programming course, and formally withdrew from SIU-C. I had been entertaining the idea for a while, but actually did it because I couln't get a computer program to compile.

Nasal Spray Anonymous

I am an addict. But fortunately, it's not to any illicit substance or life ruining concoction. Well, I'm sure this stuff could put a damper on my social life, but other than that, I don't really see how nasal spray dependence can ruin my life that much...aside from the social stigma that comes from being spotted with an object lodged up your nose. I resumed my nasal spray using ways last week in an attempt to keep my sinuses open so my ears wouldn't end up clogged (as they frequently do when I suffer from nasal congestion) and have been "spraying up" several times a day since. I'm curious as to how much I'll need the spray when the cold is over, the runny nose has disappeared adn I'm no longer popping sudafed capsules to get through the night.

Old and Busted Humor

Out: Keen social commentary and biting wit. In: dick and fart jokes. A black cloud has fallen over social interaction. If you need me, I'll be committing seppuku.

Body Wash is More Economical than Soap

I've come to the conclusion that body wash is more economical than soap because it doesn't disentigrate in the shower, you can use it in somewhat measured doses, and it is easier to maintain product integrity. I took a bath earlier, lathering up with my white bar of Dove soap and placed it on a flat shelf in my shower. Sometime in the 8 hours since I bathed, it fell into the tub and slid on top of the drain, where it has been subjected to Chinese Water Torture underneath the dripping faucet since. When I found it about five minutes ago, the indentation in the soap was nearly a complete hole. A pro of this is that I now better understand the mechanics of water torture. The obvious con is my 2-day old bar of soap will likely need to be replaced in a little under two weeks. This particular scenario would never have happened had I used body wash. Of course, a bar of soap can't spill all over the rug when it falls from the top of the shower doors, but that scenario is for another day.

Rush Fever

One week and hundreds of hours of sisterhood later, I'm relaxing at home trying to ward off rush fever. Just what is rush fever, you ask? Well, it's actually not a cute description of an overabundance of spirit or overexuberance or anything remotely fun like that. Instead, it's a strain of flu that's been running rampant at the RSEC and has felled many a sorority girl this week. There are two strains of it, upper respiratory and intestinal. The intestinal version got one of our girls and a few in some other chapters and some potential members (or as the old-schoolers call them, rushees). Most of our girls have had the coughing, sneezing, sore throat version and though I spent a large amount of time washing my hands, trying to avoid them, and pumping myself full of vitamins, I fear I may have contracted the respiratory version of it for today I am clammy with a scratchy throat and dripping sinuses. I've been guzzling hot tea and vitamin water like it's been going out of style (...or as if the stuff is jungle juice for that matter) and generally taking it easy. Unfortunately, taking it easy means the pile of laundry continues to grow and the sinkful of empty cups piles higher and higher. Tomorrow will be used to do what I didn't do today because I don't think I can bring myself to start school with no clean towels and a dirty house.

Have a Little Faith in Me

Later today, round one of recruitment starts and this year, I look at things from the sidelines as an alum member. I am surprisingly okay with the fact that I am now too old to actively participate in sorority life and actually feel that I am fitting in my new role perfectly. I don't have to be here this week for any of this. I could be sitting at home, sleeping and shopping and loafing around, but I've opted to invest my week into the growth of my sorority, my home. In this group of girls, I've found my soul mates, my partners in crime...I've found a warm and accepting group of women that have taught me how to be a lady, taught me to cherish the importance of female bonds, and shown me that a group of girlfriends can have unconditional love for one another. I've always appreciated the opportunity I've had to experience sorority life and all the positive things that can come of it, but I've never appreciated it the way I have today when I was able to step back and just take it all in as a person who (though while involved) is no longer as involved and see the way these amazing women worked together and helped each other. The level of trust and faith we all have in each other is just incredible...I have no worries about the future of my chapter for it is in good hands. Regardless of outcome, this week is a success.

Last Year's Model

Girls such as myself face a new enemy...a threat to our survival, a challenge to our existance. And the name of that threat is the bimbo. Clever, lady-like, witty are good descriptors of what is apparently "out" in a female these days. Apparently our ability to discuss current events and sports and drink a beer without wailing the college mating call of "Oh gawd...I'm sooooo drunk. I'm soooo drunk" (which isnt' even in our vocabulary thankyouverymuch) has fallen out of favor with the men-folk. It seems that now a pair of tits in a tight tank top and a heavy, heavy asskissing is now the way to snare favor. For those keeping a scorecard note that sitting with spread legs and cackling like a hyena is now all the rage. Note, however, that keen social commentary and having the testicular fortitude to disagree with a man is not. I don't loathe the bimbo because I am jealous of the attention she gets, I loathe her because she makes it difficult for guys-gals to enjoy an evening with friends. Try holding a conversation with someone getting a lapdance...that's kind of what it's like when a bimbo is near. Then again, I guess I'm just bitter that suddenly all of the hard work I've put into being cool, intelligent, and witty is suddenly invalided by a bluthering idiot with her tits hanging out. I'm last year's model but I don't think I'm going to take it. Are you?

Home and Homeliness

I never realized how ghetto my hometown has become until this, my most recent trip home. Seeing as how my parents technically live out of town (by 80 feet, if you want to get technical), unless I actually venture into city limits, I can go an entire visit and not actually see the town. But last night, when we decided to have family pizza and movie night, I went to the video store and realized I was surrounded by dirty, mean, and possibly high people. No longer do I recognize anyone (both good and bad...first time ever more bad than good) and I've noticed a larger than usual influx of St. Louis people for the summer, which tends to bring inflated gas and grocery prices as well as an increased incidence of opportunistic crime. This means that once I return to Murray, you'll see me locking things up like crazy...which will likely be nothing unusual. Tomorrow morning, I'm taking Grandpa out for a Chinese buffet lunch. It'll be interesting to see what home looks like in the morning, weekday light.

It's always interesting to look through my closet and drawers and the things on my computer to see what I was into/wearing/doing in the past. Going to my room is like opening a time capsule. So far I've remembered that back in the day I really liked Cool Water Perfume (but not the lotions that came with it), Nintendo Power magazines, and Isaak Asimov books. I'm also reading long-since abandoned message boards which are now...let's just say it's obvious why I abandoned them. I've found a bunch of cds and videos (I joined the dvd era long after leaving home) that I wouldn't mind taking back to Murray with me. But tonight, before it gets really later or before I find something to really be embarassed about...like all my Cher cds...I am going to my big, soft, plaid bed.

The State of Things

1. My internship ends Friday but I'll continue working part time once school starts.  I'm taking some time off over the next few weeks and will be splitting my time between Illinois and Kentucky. 

2. Checking out of Murray Place Friday the 6th.  This is an open invitation for anyone interested to come witness the checking out process.  While 4 against 1 or even 2 is the intended plan, what's a few more people on team us?  Bring signs of support-let's make this an all out rally.  Feel free to protest too.  Seeing as how I no longer live in Carbondale, I haven't seen a good protest in years. 

3. I still haven't suscribed to any sort of trash pickup.  I'm still taking my trash to Murray Place and tossing it in the dumpster there.  Inconvenient as it may be, I feel entitled to use their dumpster because technically I'm still a resident.  Lord knows they still boss me around like I still am.

4. Living alone is nice.  Rarely am I ever fully dressed while lounging at home these days.  In fact, I'm not wearing a shirt right now.  Drool or vomit at that thought as you please.

5. Ames came down to visit this weekend and I exposed her to life in Murray.  Good times were had by all.

6. OMGWTFBBQ Friday showed me that I still have much to learn about the art of grilling.  Thanks to those that came out and a special thanks to Devhead for helping me man the grill, to Nichole for sodas, and to The Hardy's for making a citronella run. 

7. I'm now a doggie aunt to Lilbit, LeeAnn's corgi-beagle mix.  That dog rocks. 

8. Tonight is the first Taco Tuesday since Nichole left town.  Out of confusion/sorrow, I ate McDonald's for dinner instead.  I'm now officially endorsing McDonald's now.  Sparky says eat french fries!

9. I can tell the seasons are getting ready to change and it's great because I love fall...especially down here.  Everything is prettier and everything smells nicer in the fall.  This goes for people too.  Along with fall comes the start of school.  I'm both excited about a new school year and sad that this is my last.  Growing up/older can really suck sometimes.  I'm not ready to leave school and become a contributing member of society!

10. I've been watching the Democratic National Convention this week. 

I HATE going to the Doctor More Than Ever Now

Yesterday marked my third visit to Primary care in a three month period.  I'm averaging about once a month.  April was the whole irregular heartbeat thing.  A few weeks ago, I dropped a maglight on my foot.  Yesterday I went to have my horribly swollen and disfigured tonsils checked out.  As if my hatred of being sick and going to the doctor weren't enough incentive to have a healthier home stretch of 2004, it was my experience with the doctor that makes me want to tough out everything I can or just get in the car and drive home for healthcare.  For starters, the doctor was a jackass.  He asked me two questions (do you have allergies...actually, he just looked at me and said "Allergies?" and asked me how long my throat has been swollen) and glanced into my throat before curtly announcing "Not strep."  He tried to give me ceclor twice, which I'm fatally allergic to and acted like it was some big problem when I told him I couldn't take ceclor.  He not so nicely asked me what the big problem with ceclor was and I told him "it'll kill me!"  And after I told him that, he asked me if I'd taken it before.  So I told him that yes I took it and yes, I had to go to the hospital.  Then there's long silence and then he tells me the medicines he's giving me-a decongestent, ceclor for the throat infection...I didn't even hear what the third one was because I interrupted him to once again tell me not to give me ceclor.  So, to recap this doctor's visit...in the five minutes or less I was there he didn't answer any of my questions, repeatedly tried to give me a drug that makes me have to get medical attention as to not die, and treated me like I was wasting his time. 

And Now That I Think about It, Pharmacies Aren't That Great Either

While I'll never be able to hate the pharmacy as much as the doctor's office, I'm no longer as fond of it as I used to be.  Last night was the first time I used CVS instead of Wal-Mart.  With Wal-Mart, no matter how early in the day you call in a prescription, once you get there to pick it up, the wait is always an hour.  I swear the first half hour is to make you want to buy more stuff and that second is to show you who is boss.  I don't like the pharmacist at Wal-Mart either!  And once the medicine is ready, I mean the requisite 60 minute wait time has passed, there is never anyone behind the counter to ring up the purchase.  So figuring in the 5-10 minutes it takes for someone to acknowledge your presence, followed by the next 5 or so minutes required to find the prescription from the rack of bags, and then the checkout procedure, we're closing in on 90 minutes to get a prescription that was called in 6 hours earlier.  So, last night I got a clue and had my stuff sent to CVS, which is a bit sunnier.  The rude pharmacist was replaced by a cute, floppy haired rx tech.  I didn't leave the store with the usual burning desire to boil my hands (see references to "That Unclean Feeling" from being in Wal-Mart).  A lady did, however, break wind in my general direction as she walked by (a major wtf moment). 

Between the doctor's office and the pharmacy, I now have even more incentive to never be sick again.

Call Me

761-2844

New Rules: Drinking

1. No sitting in the front seat when being carted around town.
2. No operating computers or other communication devices.
3. No thinking that you are actually relevant in the big scheme of things in any way, shape, or form. This means no climbinbg on top of things and announcing that you have the key to the universe or know how to cure cancer.
4. No making eye contact with other people in the room. There's something about booze that makes it hard to break a gaze and that just freaks people out.
5. No talking. To anyone. About anything. Period.

Changing Perceptions

So the question of the week is this...can a single action by a person change the way you look at him/her? Or was it actually a single action in a long chain of events/actions that did it-that pushed perception over the edge into thinking a person that was once good as gold...is merely an overrated ass? Can someone do something so rude/mean that it shatters any preperceived notion of good in that person? I think, for me anyway, that it's always the little things that do it. The proverbial straw on the camel's back. Disappointing as it may be, in the end I think it's always better to realize a person's true colors early on than...you get the picture. It's just upsetting to take a closer look at something/someone and realize you don't like what you see, even though you wanted to.


Support

Last night I dropped a maglight on my foot and was momentarily convinced my foot was broken. Fortunately I can now walk on it with minimal burning and my toes don't look quite as deformed/flattened, but it will be many shades of black, blue and green for quite some time. I'm lucky that Devin was here to listen to my cry, curse, and complain and get me ice...I'm lucky that he would actually do something and not just stare at me like I was an idiot for dropping something on my foot. I'm glad he didn't freak out or go home so he wouldn't have to hear me complain.

In a Nutshell...

Summarizing the week in 5 points:

1. Having to be at a plant for noise monitoring at 6 in the morning != fun.
2. Three weeks left in internship. Must remember to turn in all paper work.
3. The new place rocks. Pants are optional.
4. Night at Huddle House > *. I'm f*#$%ing Chris Hodes! No, really...
5. Has anyone seen my dishtowels?

Move along, There's Nothing to See Here

As of tomorrow night, I will have lived in four different apartments in the past year. One year. Tonight is my last night in this apartment and I've moved so much that it's not even that big of a deal. Since leaving the first place I've lived in Murray, I've been the happiest here. I can only hope that life in the new (still untitled) place will be just as good. It'll be different, but things will be fine.

The Saga of the Bronson Juvie Van

Somewhere in Marion County, Illinois is a special place. A place where children who cannot attend regular school go to expand their young and eager minds. A place with a teaching staff sensitive enough to meet the educational needs of these exceptional children. A place with security guards trained to handle a situation when one of them feels they absolutely must throw that chair through that window. That place is Bronson Alternative School. And this weekend, I'm using their utility van to move.

The practice of using this van began in August of 2002 when after 2 years in hell, I mean Carbondale, I decided to pack up and head toward greener pastures...blue-er grass. After taking care to reserve a U-Haul in good time and make sure all the paper work was in order (including retaining that all-important receipt), my parents went to collect said U-Haul when as a final "up-yours" by the black hole that is Carbondale...it had been rented to someone else. Regardless of reservation. Driven off the lot. By someone else. Twenty minutes before my parents got there (likely).

Knowing how my mother was on that day, I'm pretty sure she castrated the guy working at U-Haul over the incident.

So after a horrible evening of packing the contents of my duplex into a few vehicles and driving home, Mom and I set out for Carbondale again the next morning with Dad promising to arrive shortly after with a solution to our lack of a vehicle large enough to accomodate a couch, a bed, and some other things

That solution was the Bronson Alternative School Juvie Van.

Technically, it's a utility van-you know, the kind serial killers drive, but without the torture chamber in the back and doors that actually can be opened from the inside. It's just a big, navy blue van with "Bronson Alternative School" written on the side. I'm quite fond of it, actually, and it's really cool that the school lets us use it. That's pretty much the end of the story of the juvie van, but I think it's neat and just wanted to share.

The end.

My Days are Numbered!

So here I am, preparing to take my first car load of shizzle over to my new humble abode...

The Rogue Towel

And not a moment too soon, I must say. Today, the MP green police came by for another inspection. After a month of idle threats, they finally made good on their memo. Now if only someone would actually see the bobcat that has supposedly been terrorizing the neighborhood-they wouldn't appear to be such overt liars afterall. But don't tell anyone I said that because there's still a 30 day window for them to toss me in the goulag...

This morning I washed my bathtub...granted, I was taking a shower, but I ran a cloth over any soap scum that had accumulated and across the floor of the tub to gather anything that had settled in the textured-for-traction surface. After my morning routine of later, rinse, condition, rinse, shave (and cut self horribly-that's my explanation for the big bandaid on my thigh), wash, rinse, I dried off and hung the towel over the shower curtain rod as to adhere to my own policy of "no soaking wet towels in the hamper!" Soaking wet towels in the hamper, you see, make for really nasty towels that don't get washed for the better part of the week. Since I've started traveling all over creation for work and putting in long days at the office, I've stopped being so religious, er obsessed with the laundry-now all my towels are washed on the weekends, along with my massive loads of everything else. No more of this doing laundry every to every other day for me. Anyway, I see practicality in letting towels air dry all day before taking them down at night, tossing them in the hamper, and starting the cycle again come morning. But alas, this afternoon when that lone, mighty towel fell into the tub...half in, half out, that caused my tub to cease being clean and begin being a filthy, filthy tub in desperate need of cleaning. If I lacked class, I'd be making a lewd gesture in the direction of the green police headquarters...but then again, just how much less classy would it make me? And who here hasn't done that before?

The Ultimate Fate of the Dead Palm Tree

Some mysterious green, leafy plant is starting to sprout from the remnants of my long deceased palm tree. It doesn't appear to be illicit...but I must admit given the environment where the plant and I used to live, I'm surprised it's not.

However, if I wanted to go ahead and read too much into the new plant (as I tend to do with most things), it makes a pretty cool...metaphor for a new begining.

The Battle Plan

Tonight I start moving items to the new place. Same routine for tomorrow and Friday, so if you're free and have nothing better to do...like America, if you have a strong back, we can use you! Parents are bringing furniture down on Saturday so if you're in town and want to meet Ma and Pa Sparky, or move stuff, come on over. Finally, I'm getting cable tv/internet on Tuesday afternoon, but need someone present. If you're free around 2:30 pm, please volunteer to just chill in my a/c'd place and help yourself to sodas in the fridge...all you have to do is be my representative so that they will install the cable and internet. Volunteers, post in comments.

Obligatory LAN Party Post

:w00t:

Leave messages of (tech) support here.

And with that, I'm out to wait in the shadows to dispense wedgies to my fellow party goers...normally I mug, but in honor of MSUR being 2, I'll um...wedgie.

Uhh...

I have stories about my travels home and evening at the mall and two days of work, but overall, I just don't really know what to say. Thought about typing a long...prose about going to the underwear sale at Vicki's and realizing, upon seeing bins and bins of a pair of underwear like a pair I have and like (red and green plaid briefs, for those who want to know) and spacing out for a few minutes while pondering why I wanted that underwear and no one else did...what it was about me that makes me want the underwear no one else does. I could rant about the stupid "Mrs. Celebrity" purses (Mrs. Affleck, Mrs. Kutcher, et al ugh!). I could post here what I've decided I think/feel about a lot of people (it's all positive, don't worry) and how I'll never say it because I'm afraid of alienating my friends and scaring people off because yes, I can be overenthusiastic, but when it's all said and done, does it really matter what I think? Would that make any difference at all? Of course, there's always the old standby: work. I love and loathe my job simultaneously. There's always rambling about how someone can one day just become the epitome of rude and how it doesn't really matter what is said because nothing will change them...not even all the patience in the world. But all of my stories are boring and all of my thoughts...it's nothing that hasn't been pondered before. And what am I going to do about all of this? I'm going to do what any rational, weary, and utterly nerdly girl in Murray on a Tuesday night (or any night, for that matter) would do...I'm going to Wal-Mart.

Adventures in Air Sampling

This week I've been at a facility in Paducah taking air samples...attaching personal air pumps to employees for wear while working an 8 hour shift and then sending the samples (which are captured on cassettes, in tubes, and in other forms of media)to a lab so they may be analyzed and the findings given to me to interpret so that I can make recommendations to the plant managers on what must be done so that the employees are not overexposed to chemical and physical (because I took noise samples too) hazards. Leave Murray around 5:15 am and return a little less than 12 hours later. I won't bore you with the intricacies of the process, so here are the random highlights of the past few days:

Wednesday: Day One

- Discovered the Little Castle in Lone Oak and their yummy hamburgers. Hamburger + 3 Cups of Coffee = Breakfast of Champions!

- Realized an uncomfortable aspect of air sampling: attaching the pumps to the workers. The best place to put the pumps are on the waistbands of pants because there they are held in place most securely. However, this involves me having to go up to strange men and basically play with their pants. Thank goodness I've become proficient at being able to clip on the air pumps with one hand in one quick movement.

- Amazed at how much waiting is involved in the whole process. Rekindled my love affair with crossword puzzles.

Followed by coming home, kicking off my steel toed boots and staring at the damage they'd done to my feet, followed by Los Portales with Nichole and a scary drugstore encounter with the on-speed and covered in warpaint CVS cashier. "MAY I HELP YOU?!?!?" The answer is "GAAAAAH!"


Tuesday: Day Two

- Heard Kenny Rogers' "What Condition My Condition Was in" (LEBOWSKI!!!) on the way to work and decided the day was going to rock.

- Got a breakfast burrito from McDonalds and drove over my first curb of the day.

- Ran to the CVS in Lone Oak during lunch hour to get book of crossword puzzles and made the impulse buy of a stick of deodorant because I smelled so darned bad from sitting in a hot and humid office and walking around the facility. Sat in the safetymobile (company truck) and applied under shirt with the a/c hitting me full blast. Drove over my second, third, and fourth curbs of the day. Had Wendy's for lunch...I drove over the curbs (and a sidewalk) there too.

Wednesday: Day Three

- Cinnamon raisin biscuit from Hardees followed by wrong turn and somehow ending up on the way to the airport. Saw some nice houses though.

- Wandered around KMart over lunch because I wanted some gum and bandaids...I've been rocking out to the Don Henley tape I found in the console of the safetymobile Tuesday afternoon. Feeling the need for some new tunes and figuring I'd be taking a few more trips in the safetymobile this summer, I raided the cassette tape bin and emerged with some Creedence and Three Dog Night.

- Finished the day by driving over one last curb with the safetymobile after filling it with gasoline.

So, in conclusion...I dig air sampling, the safetymobile doesn't make tight turns (and likes the curb) and I'm really, really tired. Tomorrow I drive home to Illinois and return to Murray on Sunday afternoon. Projected mileage from Monday to (this coming) Monday: ~800 miles.

Ten Things I'm Currently Digging

1. "Float On" by Modest Mouse. I've been listening to this song on a continuous loop for the last 10 minutes or so. Thinking about getting the album.

2. Old School Zelda on Gameboy Advance. Picked up the last copy from Murray Wal-Mart on Wednesday and I've been playing it often since. In a little while, it'll be time to storm Death Mountain. Wish me luck.

3. Marriage. Went to two weddings yesterday and have decided that perhaps matrimony isn't for losers. I used to have this marriage = death mentality...that when you said your vows, you were pretty much hanging up your spurs. (Based on past experiences with relationships) I used to be in the mindset that whoever I marry would run off with some other (inferior) woman and never let me see the dog again (again). But seeing all the love in that room last night as my friends took their vows made me realize that it's worth being blind to all the things that could go wrong and only seeing what's right and taking life as it comes. And if anything else...you get to throw a really good party.

4. Raspberry Scented Grooming Products. Dude-I smell delicious! Seriously, smell me.

5. Meat-based salads from Kroger Deli. Chicken salad = peace. Ham salad = love.

6. Packing. If all else fails, it's a good excuse for finding everything I've misplaced...and tossing out/giving away the old and obtaining fresh, sexy, and new.

7. Having longer and darker hair. I feel softer and more...noticeable. I can't stop touching my hair.

8. Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Watching this on adult swim has become something to look forward to. I'm contemplating getting a boxed set so I won't have to stay up as late to watch.

9. Coca Cola Classic. I want one now, actually...over ice and in a paper cup. So basically, I'm seeking one of those 32 oz for 59 cent cokes from McD's.

10. Bic (Medium) Ball Point Pens (Black). I've been doodling with one all weekend and it's great because the pen writes nicely and the cap is great for chewing!

Feel free to comment on my choices and share the things you like.

Also, if any one wants to take a peek at my new place, just give a holla. I'm also currently taking suggestions for a name for my new abode.

Sound fX

Raise your hand if you remember when the Fx channel was born, circa 1994! In the first 1 1/2-2 years of the fX channel, all shows were original programming filmed live from an apartment in New York City. "Television made fresh daily!" Sound Fx aired nightly (save Saturday and Sunday) around 10 pm and was hosted by some now famous people (Orlando Jones, Jeff Probst). This quirky little show featured interviews, music videos, album reviews, and guest performances by some really cool acts and acts that went on to make it pretty big. Shortly after the show was cancelled (?!?) in the summer of 1995, I started taping the final 2 week run off the television. I really wish this show were still around and yes, I actually shed a tear when I discovered that my favorite tv show was doomed because it was so cool and different from anything else on tv that it was very frustrating to see it go.

Life is a Foreign Film without Subtitles

Another one of those late nights in Murray when my mind starts running 60 miles a minute just as everyone goes to bed. When awake though very tired, I enter this odd state of alertness and introspectiveness marked by the propensity toward spouting out random philosophical bits, which is fun when other people are around...not so much when all alone.

About the foreign film metaphor...one of those random thoughts-a billboard on the side of the highway of my mind...even when you don't know what the hell is going on because you just don't understand life, it can still be beautiful and enjoyable. Conversely, it can be the feeling that those around you just don't speak your language. Though frustrating, it makes the joy of finding someone who does all that more meaningful...it's as if you've been overseas for months and happen upon a fellow American/English speaker somewhere. Then there's always asimilation-just letting the world absorb you until you find yourself in Rome...acting um, Roman. Or, perhaps it's just an overly abstract way of saying that sometimes you can feel so alone, even when other people are there.

Home 2004-2005

Central heat and air. Dishwasher. Washer and dryer. Self-cleaning oven. Spacious bathroom. Cavernous bedroom. Walk-in closet. Wooden deck underneath trees.

Sounds nice, eh? That's my new place. I've got the keys, so I'll be glad to show you. I can't put a stitch of furniture in the place until July 1, but when it's time to actually move in, the carpets will have been cleaned, the place spruced up nicely, and a few minor repairs/adjustments made. The baseboard that was broken yesterday has already been fixed today. I really hope this works out well...both the apartment and living on my own once more. Granted, it's only been a year I've been sharing living space with other people, but in that year, it's been nice to have someone tangible to talk to when I don't want to spend time in the company of myself. My door will be open (when I'm home), so just come on over (call ahead so I can put on some pants).

The First Week of June: A Week in Review

Tuesday: Used my lunch hour to call about apartments. Within 6 hours, I had found my home base for the next year. Went to Los with Devin and requested my $3 change in singles, thus further gaining sympathy from the waitstaff there. Seriously, I can't go to Los without doing/saying something utterly stupid anymore. I guess that makes me a good customer though: I'm a fairly regular customer that tips and I'm entertaining. Fell asleep around 10 pm and woke up at 6:30 the next morning. 8 hours of sleep on a weeknight...a rarity.

Wednesday: Obtained keys to apartment and took care of necessary paperwork for the place. Took one of my final sweet, sweet naps on the sleep-trap couches, then ate a sandwich and watched a Harry Potter movie with Devin #2 and The Petersens. Then, we watched Kangaroo Jack, starring John Gibson, and sat mesmerized by the wonder that was...Kangaroo Jack. Seriously, the whole time we were watching it, we kept commenting on the fact that we were actually watching Kangaroo Jack. And to be honest...silly as it was, it wasn't that bad. And I'm pretty sure I caught Devin (#1, for those keeping score) enjoying it as well (don't deny it-you know you did!).

Thursday: Spent the morning scrubbing boots, gloves, and hazmat suits in the rain. Came home, ate a salad, took a hot shower, went back to work. I'll be glad when the equipment trailer is finished. Fell asleep in the chair while watching tv with Devin #2 and then took two phone calls while half asleep. Dinner at Bees, with enough left over for lunch tomorrow. Score.

But for now...Snickers Blizzard and Family Guy.

Memorial Day Weekend Wrap-up

Sunday I partook in a typical Illinois Memorial Day weekend activity: grilling out with the family and then watching a tornado blow through town. Then, after the first storm passed and before the second one hit, we hopped in the car and drove around town surveying the damage.

This weekend was quite good and featured a trip to the site of the soon to be new family homestead. Met the neighbors and played with their dogs, Beth the miniature collie and Max the pembroke welsh corgi. CORGI!!! After playing with the dog, Mom wants a corgi now too. After all of that, we went to Ruby Tuesday in Litchfield and ate a bunch of chicken wings. So Saturday in a nutshell: new plot of land, corgis, wings. All the makings of a good day. I was sent back to Murray with a big bag full of grilled goodies and fruit, so by the end of the week, I may be recruiting people to help eat all of it. I've already informed Devin that he'll be eating bbq'd pork steaks this week for lunch (meaning, if you're reading this from work, you should be gnawing on a pork steak as you read).

This Week

Starting Tuesday, I'm calling around town to find a new place to call home next year. I really hope my first choice place is open because I already have decorated and moved into the place in my mind. This place will feature a washer and dryer, a dishwasher, and central heating and air conditioning...all the things I said I wanted in a place. Thanks to Gibson, this place will also feature a picture of Don Johnson. I haven't mentally made a place for him yet, but if you have any suggestions where to place him, please let me know.

I'm also considering getting some sort of rug for the place. You know...something to tie the room together.


It's All been Done before

Watching Futurama and saw yet another reference to those anti-littering commercials of the 80s where a can hits the feet of Eagle Eyes Cody and he sheds a tear. I rest my case. It's all been done before. All of it. Every single bit.

And with that, I'm going to bed...that I've done before as well.

If These Goths Could Talk

It's graduation time again, which means the annual posting of the senior class photos in the Union Banner (aka "Bummer"), my soon-to-be former hometown's weekly newspaper. Pictures from three of the four (because the western-most school in the county just doesn't count)county high schools are featured in the fold out special. The kids in the Catholic school portion always look (for the most part) bright eyed and clean scrubbed. My school has this (wise) tradition of taking the pictures at school on picture day with a standard uniform of tux tops and jackets for boys and those black velvet drapes (like we wear in our composite pics...if I had known then what I know now, I would have started wearing pearls for portraits sooner) for the girls. It just looks better that way. The other school, Central, has the "roughest" looking kids in the county. Included in this years poses/looks...Central style...a guy mid-deerhunt (ie-bow pulled back, aiming, ready to shoot), several greasy people with faraway looks, an angry boy scowling at the camera ("I'm so angry to be in high school...I'm even angrier to be graduating!"), and several blonde girls with roots and low cut tops "making love to the camera."

The best one, though, by far was this Goth Girl staring at the camera with this look of contempt and frustration. I can just hear her screaming at me now "You could never understand me! I'm 3,000 years old!"



Same Video, Different Song

Watching MTV right now...the last three videos (in a row) played all had the same look/feel to them. The look of pictures pasted onto a background. Didn't catch the first band, the second was Bumblebeez81(?) and the last one Modest Mouse. Watch these videos and then tell me if you agree.

I Never Cease to be Amazed by Grocery Stores

Today while in Metropolis, home of Superman, I grabbed some lunch from a grocery store and discovered that you can just go up to the counter of the deli and have them make you a sandwich. I don't know why this concept was so surprising and foreign, having come from the greater St. Louis area where seemingly every Schnucks or Dierbergs featured some sort of in-store dining, but I was thrown for a loop when able to go up to the lady that was slicing meat and tell her I wanted a turkey sandwich with a slice of pepper jack cheese. And she didn't just throw the sandwich together-no sir! She loaded that thing up with freshly sliced turkey and put a thin slice of pepper jack on there that was big enough to cover the entire sandwich. There was pepper jack goodness in every bite. And you can apparently do this in most grocery stores too. I think my new passion du jour shall now be eating grocery store sandwiches.

Walking Wisdom

Serious thought should be given to recording my coversations with Nichole on our nightly walks. Nary a mile goes by without one of us spouting out words of wisdom. Whether it be musing on how meeting and getting to know someone over the internet is more "true" because you get to know the essence of a person without all the stuff about appearance or carriage coming into play. Not that appearance and carriage aren't important components of attraction, but when it comes to simply liking another human being...it could be argued that all that matters is essence.

Another nugget of wisdom for the evening was Nichole's analogy of her car to a sexually diseased pretty girl. "She seems like a lot of fun, but I wouldn't want to ride her."

I'm working up to distance running...tonight I ran the length of the football field four times, which doesn't sound like much but hey, you go a long time without heavy duty excercise and then run a footbal field at full speed four times. It'll make you stop, put your hands on your knees and make some sort of awful noise in front of people walking. I swear the first vomitous sound was for comedic effect. That second one was my out-of-shape body going "well maybe that's not such a bad idea."

McDonald's Breakfast Burritos

I fear my affair with the breakfast burrito is coming to an end. It really wasn't that good of a relationship when you think about it. How can you be satisfied with something you're left wanting more of and it's only available certain hours of the day. Granted, it's goodness has helped me through many a mid-morning slump and the joy of waking up early enough to actually get one before class or work was unparalleled at the time. However, this morning when I took a bite of my first one (yeah, I ate two of them, what's it to you?!?) and found it to be cold, I felt a twinge of sadness and regret. Has this how I've been spending my mornings? Watching the clock while typing away, knowing that my window to obtain one was slowly closing? Rolling over in bed on a weekend morning and feeling happy to know I hadn't missed my chance to get one, but sad that it never comes to me. Alas, I'm hooked and I cannot escape. Perhaps some day I'll see the error of my ways and put down my car keys and settle in for the morning with a bowl of oatmeal.

Driving Large Cars

I'm so glad my first car was a 1992 Crown Vic. For starters, that car was really cool because it was big and fast and comfortable. It was a great road car. And even though it didn't make my high school peers jealous, sure's hell many a senior citizen drooled when I drove by with the windows down and my 60s/70s classic rock blaring. I learned to whip that car in and out of tight quarters and how to back it with some skills. Today I realized how much learning to drive a massive car paid off when trying to back an F-150 up to a meeting hall and then through a series of gates guarded by armed guards. If I had to learn to drive say, a Ford Festiva (or something like that), I would have been terrified and thought "if I mess up, they will shoot me!" But instead, I (carefully) put that truck where it needed to be, thinking to myself "it's okay, folks, my first car was a crown vic."

Come to think of it, when interviewing for that Student Ambassador job, when asked about my willingness to learn to drive school vans (I think they're Dodge Ram Vans...they're massive), I replied "If I can drive my Mom's Crown Vic, I think I can handle a van."