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.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
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.
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.
Sunday, November 21, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, November 19, 2004
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...
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...
Thursday, November 18, 2004
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?
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?
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, November 15, 2004
Thursday, November 11, 2004
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.
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.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
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...
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...
Monday, November 01, 2004
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.
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.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
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.
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.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
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.
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.
Saturday, October 23, 2004
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.
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.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
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?
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?
Monday, October 18, 2004
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.
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.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, September 27, 2004
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
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?
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?
Sunday, September 19, 2004
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
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
Sunday, September 12, 2004
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.
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.
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