August 2003 Archives

Hey folks. I'm out of town right now and will be unable to make regular posts until I get back up to school.

See you then.

Or, Anything to make freshmen do something stupid

I just got finished watching The Life of David Gale. Frankly, Kevin Spacey has not made a truly, truly great movie since The Usual Suspects, but this movie was still pretty good. The editing and camera work was a little distracting, though.

On a totally unrelated note, it seems as though the midwest is finally getting some relief from the drought that has persisted through the summer. The clouds have been lingering over campus since yesterday, but it wasn't until today that the rains came. And when it rains, it pours. (Sorry, I usually avoid cliches like the plague.) Why do I drone on about rain do you ask? Was there an informal wet t-shirt contest taking place all across campus? (I wouldn't know, I avoided going outside. Sorry to disappoint.) Did I finally master the art of the ancient rain dance and can now summon water at will?

Oh, it's even better than that kiddies. I'm using this to lead into the exciting part. The thunderstorm was quite violent, the midday sun totally obscured by the ever darkening clouds. Suddenly, without warning, the rain came down in sheets, drowning those who would dare venture into the storm.

Ahem. Sorry, I have a free trial subscription to the Write-a-really-long-novel-by-spicing-up-and-dragging-out-even-mundance-details program. It expires within the week, though, so have no fear.

The really cool part about today was that lightning struck a tree on campus. Both fortunately and unfortunately I missed the event, but definately saw the lightning with simultaneous thunder, which I knew couldn't be good. As it turns out though, that tree was smoking from the blast and the fire department was called out to hose it down...during a freakin' rain storm! Oh, the delicious irony. The only thing that tastes sweeter is perhaps chocolate covered strawberries...mmm...

So yeah, now there's a tree that's looking a little injured, but hopefully it'll survive. It has to, because I'm going to start a tradition of that tree being the "luck tree." I'll have to think of some good superstition to go with it, though. Like, touch it and you'll fail all your finals, or walk around it seven times if you want to get lucky that night. It'll have to be good, I do know that much. That way when I'm visiting the ole' alma mater with my kids and I tell them the story about how I named it the "luck tree," they can tell me that's bull shit and to stop embarrassing them.

Ah, nostalgia. Like fresh homemade bread. Mmm...bread.

Yes, I'm hungry in case you couldn't tell.

Finally, here is the...

Thought for the Day

You know, every time I type that out, I hear in my head an audience saying it with me...kinda like, "Does everybody know what time it is?" "Tool Time!"

So here's your thought to ponder:

How is it that you can burn chocolate. It doesn't seem like that should be possible, although I've done it several times. You'd think that melting chocolate chips would be as simple as nuke it until it's a liquid, if you go too long, let it cool off. But No! You can actually burn the stuff and make it taste really bad. I guess I'll never be able to make good chocolate covered strawberries.

Oh, and here's one more thought.

Why?

If only I could have worked in a Uranus joke

Wow, I almost forgot to blog today. Can you believe it? Imagine the joy those two people would have lost be not getting to read my post. *sniff* (Actually, I average a whopping six hits a day, for those of you keeping score at home.)

Today will be a bit of a hodge-podge of thoughts, so bear with me. Hmm...were to begin.

I was reading the assigned chapter for my Lifetime Health and Fitness class when...*pause*. Ah yes, the joy that is a Liberal Arts Education. Now, I actually enjoy taking a variety of classes in different areas, but does a college really need a glorified gym/health class. This is an instution that prides itself on being the "number one public university in the Midwest region," after all.

So I was reading about how to effectively make lifestyle changes. One of the suggestions was "Bombard yourself with propaganda." Um, if you know it's propaganda, doesn't that defeat the purpose? I mean, seriously, does this crap really inspire people? (It must, because they are still in business. Go figure.) But I'm in college, were I'm taught to rationally evaluate data and not succumb to the propaganda for the masses. If I want inspiration, I'm going to these guys.

Next topic...

I was invited to go to the observatory with some friends to see mars tonight. It really amazes me how many people been talking about how close mars is to earth right now. My favorite part of the article was this:

In Oakland, California, where hundreds of space fans paid $11 to attend the Chabot Space & Science Center's "Mars Mania Costume Party," clouds rolled in along with night sky Tuesday. Mars was fogged out, and there were no refunds.

That's enough ranting for now. Time to lighten things up a bit with this week's (no, don't start to expect any sort of a regular schedule for this bit)...

Google's Walking Stick

Grow a Walking Stick - woah buddy. Um, sticks grow pretty well as long as they stay attached to the tree, and if he's thinking of the live walking sticks, then wouldn't a search such as 'walking stick pet' or something of that nature be more appropriate?

Pimp out a Mecury Sable - You've got to be kidding me. Someone out there actually wants to pimp out their 4-door, conservative, functional, family car sable? I think I can help. Step #1: Sell Sable. Step #2: Buy cooler car.

Finally, I'll leave you with the...

Thought for the Day

The call numbers in our library for most all the literature about Christianity start with the letters BS, followed by some numbers. Meanwhile, 77% of Americans think the 10 Commandments should stay in the Alabama courthouse. Aparently our library's subliminal message isn't getting through.

Forgot to put something in the last post

This one I'll keep short and sweet. Right now I have two pens on my desk. They read the following:

WESLEY - United Methodist Church. I don't know where I got that one.

VIAGRA - sildenafil citrate. I have weird friends.

I think that pretty much speaks for itself. What it says I don't know, but if you know, please comment and tell me.

Oh man, that really sucked. They ended up completely shutting down the network here on campus because so many students had gotten blasted. Ah, the joys of high speed internet.

Mmm...bask in its warmth...let it ooze over your body...

Ok, I'm back now.

So, I should have some good stories from the past few days, right?

Well, actually there is one. This sort of gets into the boring personal life details instead of the witty (hopefully) commentary on silly things that normally is my blog, but what the heck. Before you read on, I would suggest that you read this post to get a bit of background on me.

So I was at lunch, by myself. Pause. Ok, before you start feeling pity or something stupid for me, let me say something. I'm a senior, and I'm living in the dorms. (Ok, so far that isn't helping.) The reason I'm still in the dorms is because the school is paying for me to stick around. If I left, I would only get a meager stipend which would be grossly insufficient to cover the amenities I enjoy here in the dorms. Anyway, because I am a senior, most of my friends are upperclassmen, most of whom live off campus. Thus, I eat alone every now and then (at least until I meet some of these underclassmen living around me).

Soooo...I was eating lunch and directly ahead of me a couple of tables up was this really cute girl eating by herself. Unfortunately, she did not sit down until I was almost finished, but that didn't stop me from giving my new look a test drive. I walked right up to her and said, "Hi, I'm Andy. This is kind of out of the blue, but I was wondering if you would like to have lunch with me tomorrow." I was figuring that since neither of us knew the other person, meeting for lunch would be a nice, no pressure way to get to know one another. She replied, "Oh, I have a boyfriend, but thanks for asking," while flashing me a nice smile. I nonchalantly said, "ok," returned the smile, and walked away. (Let's pretend for the sake of my ego, that she did in fact have a boyfriend. :)

I got back to my room and my hands were literally shaking. That's how nervous about such things I get. Yes, she did say no, but there were several positive things to be gained from this experience.

1. I have never in my life done anything like this. I have always asked out girls that I was at least acquaintances with. This opens up so many more possibilities.


2. I have no regrets concerning my actions. I would have, however, kicked myself for at least five minutes if I had not acted on the attraction.


3. There is little to fear in doing it again. The rejection was no big deal. I calculated once that I'm batting around .400 in asking out girls (because I knew them before hand), so even if that average drops, the increase in occurences naturally dictates that I'll land more dates.

I was so stupid proud of myself for going through with it that I was actually pumped up and excited, despite the rejection.

Ok. Sorry. No more mushy gushy I'm an INTJ crap for a while. Promise. Perhaps tomorrow I'll go off on shoelaces and kittens. You just never know.

Sorry I didn't post yesterday guys and gals. I moved back up to college yesterday for my SENIOR year, but the downside is that our internet access is basically non-existant. (Thank whichever number of worms you'd like.) So I'm just posting this little memo to let you know that broadcasts will be fewer until our tech people can get the internet back up to at least dial-up speed.

Until then, a thousand blessings on you and your household.

(Brain tired...)

Sounds kinda like most of my sexual experiences

Actually, that's somewhat of a fallacy (no, that has nothing to do with phallic connotations you pervert). You see, your humble author has never actually reached the promised land. The way I figure, it took the Jews 40 years, so I'm still in pretty good shape. (What? That's a different promised land? What did you say? It's not in the Middle East? Oh. Yeah, haven't been there either.)

I know, hard to believe, isn't it? Actually it's because of moral reasons, so it really is my decision. (But if I'm not trying, then there is no proof that I would even be sucessful, is there? Hmmm...) After a few google searches, as best as I can tell that puts me in about 10-15% of the population my age, and that's a guestimation. Frankly, I think I'm better off. I have enough difficulty trying to rub my stomach and pat my head at the same time, so until I can get that down, I think I better steer clear of anything requiring a great deal of coordination.

Why on earth am I talking about all of this, you ask?

Um.

Basically, it just all started spewing forth from my head (it's going to take forever to clean up the floor tomorrow). I had nothing at all to talk about today, hence the title. As it turns out, though, that bad sex joke turned into the primary topic for this blog entry. Sorry.

But, really, which would you rather read about, me doing laundry, or my sexual escapades? (Sorry, forgot that there were none. My bad.) Frankly, we all know that sex sells, even in Classical Music. Just check out this album cover. Lucky violin.

On a completely different subject, I think I'm going to have to rename the Irony of the Day the Thought for the Day. Because my life is not that full of irony, but I do think a lot. (Probably why I'm not getting laid.)

So, without further ado, here is your

Thought for the Day

Why is it that any time a classical musician breaks the mold a bit and tries to spice things up that they are rejected by the classical community. Lara St. John sold a remarkable number of albums, exposing more of the public to Bach Violin music. Tell me, is that such a bad thing? Maybe more classical musicians should try to use sex to sell their music, the younger, attractive ones, of course. I mean, Alfred Brendel is one of the premier Vienesse Classical interpreters, but I don't want to see him in a bathing suit anytime soon. What's the worst that could happen if musicians start using sex to sell a few more albums?

*slap*

Sorry, wasn't thinking there. Clearly that's a bad idea. Imagine what that would lead to.

P.S.
"This is what part of the alphabet would look like if q & r were missing."
-Mitch Hedberg.

Just go here, I personally cannot believe it myself.

P.P.S.
We have a winner.

You should probably just hire a professional

Today was quite an adventure, let me just say. My car, as I believe I mentioned before, is a '93 Sable, so it's starting to show its age. I had blown out the front right speaker already (yes, that's possible to do even while listening to classical music), and needed to replace the little do-hickey that makes the driver's seat move in all sorts of cool directions. To alleviate these problems, my dad and I went to an automobile salvage yard.

I'm going to pause briefly first to explain what a salvage yard is (because I had no idea that such places even existed until today) and why it is odd for me to be found in such a place.

A salvage yard is basically a junk yard for cars, with the exception that you can buy car parts there. The process for purchasing parts is not the same as, say, your typical car part store. Oh no. In order to obtain any parts you may be wanting, you are directed to cars similar to yours in the "lot." Now I say "lot" because that's what "they" call it. (You really have to imagine the "bunny ears" hand-guesture every time I use quotes to catch the "humor" of this story.) In all actuality, the "lot" is a junkyard full of cars, with the exception of chalk markings on the cars so that they can still be identified. As I was saying, in order to actually get a part you have to remove it from a car that's already in the "lot." Then you simply go pay for whatever it is that you took, whether a cupholder or trunk, either way. And that's how these "businesses" are run. (Actually, I'm fairly certain that these are legitimate business, but if you happen to go to a place that isn't advertised anywhere, that's only open from 2am-4am, and all transactions are handeled in cash, then you may want to consider the possibility of illegitimacy.)

Now why is it odd that I should be there? Well, how shall I best say this. I once had a conversation with a friend about the technical differences between the words 'will' and 'shall' over a glass of a fantastic Cabernet Sauvignon while playing scrabble. Yeah, I think that sums it up quite nicely.

Anyway, my dad and I find the do-hickey for seat movement (wow that was a random link) which was easy enough to remove. The speaker situation was a bit more delicate. In order to get at the speaker that's in the door of a '93 Sable, the whole door panel needs to be removed. Thankfully, we found a '95 Taurus that already had the speaker exposed so we just yanked that baby right off. (Well, by yank I mean remove with the aid of a screwdriver and with great difficulty.)

Installing that sucker was more fun. While we didn't have to worry about damaging a car that had no tires, engine, passenger seat, ect., it was important to keep mine in as decent working order as possible. Thankfully, this meant that I just held screws that he took out and watched. If you've never watched a layman try to disassemble (think Johnny 5) a car door I would highly recommend it. If you had bet me $20 that he would have been able to put that baby back together in one piece, or that the speaker we got off the wrong door of a '95 Taurus would work fine, I would have taken you up in a New York Minute. (And what's the deal with this so-called "New York Minute." Are then on some sort of different time-keeping standard that I am unaware of. Please, I'm really quite curious to know.) Regardless, it was during this time that I thought up the title for this blog. Unfortunately for me in the virtual world (and fortunately for me in the real world), he was able to get it all fixed up. Go figure. And all it cost us was $15 for parts and an hour or so of labor in this horrible heat. (I don't know if what I did actually counts as "labor" though. Yay for bunny ears.)

The only other thing worth metioning is that tonight we went to P.F. Chang's for dinner, which is one of the two greatest restaurants in Kansas City. The other, which is decidedly more midwestern in cuisine, is Stroud's.

That's about it.

Just kidding, you knew I wouldn't leave you without the

Irony of the Day

I was quite fortunate that I didn't have water spilled on me by the waiter at dinner tonight. I have only had that happen to me a handful of times, but every single time it was at a Chinese restaurant. I don't know why, it just always ends up that way. Maybe I should get some of those cool dockers for eating at Chinese restaurants.

Sorry, I was just kind of hoping you would find some sort of irony in the Chinese restaurant water spilling incidences, but I'm not sure it's there. Frankly, I think the underlying cause is the fact that the Chinese are still a bit mad at me for that whole Jiang Zemin depants-ing incident.

Isn't that redundant?

Sorry I missed a day there folks. I was just, well, you know, I was, um, it was like, oh screw it. I was really tired and didn't feel like blogging.

Yesterday I had to make a run up to my school for some meetings, and then drove back. The joy that was 5 total hours of driving on as much sleep was more than I could possibly express in one sitting, so I opted not to. That was pretty much all I did yesterady.

I will however, give you yesterday's dose of your...

Irony of the Day

Media consolidation is a scary prospect, because it makes news organizations too focussed on the business end of media. Ratings, subscriptions begin to take precendence over real investigative journalism, and what's worse is that news companies may be willing to downplay or even not air stories that would be harmful to their parent companies. NPR is funded through tax-dollars, viewer contributions, various foundations, etc. which does present its own problems, but allows NPR to focus on the news and not the ratings (kinda, work with me people). Now you can rant all you want about bias in one direction or another, but that's not the point of this discussion. You see, while ratings-independent journalism can be good, it can also mean that I'm stuck listening to a story about the life of a 101 yr old "cowgirl" because I can only get NPR and country stations in northern missouri. That, needless to say, is a bad thing. (I love google.)

Moving on to today.

Today I did two things (well, three if you consider sitting on my ass almost all day watching tv a doing something). The first was to get new frames for my glasses, the second a trip to the doctor's for a nasty canker sore which I will not describe in case any children under the age of 18 tune in.

So I go to get the new lenses cut for my glasses, but me, being the genius that I am, have no backup vision aids for the trip. I am told it will take about an hour for the glasses to be finished. Normally having an hour to kill wouldn't be bad, but I have about 20/140 vision, "so pretty much my options are limited" (think Adam Sandler's Goat sketch). Basically I had to shop around Wal-Mart for an hour while I was pratically blind (yes, I go to Wal-Mart to have my glasses done. Ha ha ha, very funny, can we move on now?)

To make a long story short, I end up browsing their DVD selection for a while. I finally check out with copies of The Recruit and Red Dragon, but before I can purchase said movies, I am asked, "Are you over 17?" I at first thought the question was a joke. After wall, it was just Tuesday when I wasn't carded for beer, which I'm pretty sure has more strict age requirements. Of course, had I been wearing my glasses I would have been able to tell that the obese woman behind the counter was not joking at all. After a long pause I finally show her my ID, which states clearly that I was born over 21 years ago. Unbelievable. Actually what's probably more unbelievable is that that was the best story I had for today. Sorry, slow news day.

It is at this point I would like to introduce you to a new segment here at walking stick (drumroll please)...

Google's Walking Stick

Ok, so the name is lame (ha ha, I rhymed) but that's all I got for now. Let me know if you have something better. Basically this will consist of me listing my favorite searches that made their way to my little blog. Today's winners are:

remodeling show, make a walking stick face, and impala pimpmobile

Personally the middle one is my favorite, because I didn't know that walking sticks (either animate or inanimate had faces.)

Finally, to close out this blog, it's time for your second dose of the...

Irony of the Day

Why do you have your bloodpressure taken only at the beginning of a doctor's visit? I mean, if you're worried that the sore that's way in the back of your mouth that hasn't gone away in a week may be more serious than a canker sore then your BP is likely to be running a little high. Case in point, my BP read 140/80 going into the doctor's office, and when I asked him to check it again afterwards, a nice 115/75 (I have naturally low blood pressure). Therefore, the BP should be read at towards the end of the appointment unless the appointment is somehow related to blood pressure. What if you are given the news that the sore is in fact terminal throat cancer you ask? Well, then your blood pressure would certainly be higher, but by then it would be a moot point.

Complete with 12 essential vitamins and minerals

I went to visit KU today. My dad, who graduated from there in 1958, tagged along. It was a very successful trip. The campus was quite busy though, as the dorms opened up yesterday and classes starting soon. This meant that there were all sorts of freshmen running around like chickens with their proverbial heads cut off. (Oh, I'm sorry, I guess they're called "first-year students" now. Puh-lease, who came up with that one. First, it's way the heck too long. Second, it isn't demeaning. Now I have no intention of being sexist, but give me a break. I'm a senior and it is my right, nay, my duty to explain to incoming freshmen, whatever their gender, the pecking order at college. Such as was done unto me, so shall I do unto others. Sounds like a good reason, right?) This point of this (not that parenthetical note, that's just a bonus) is to say that I think the new haircut is working out for me. I had no less than three cute girls come up to me and ask how to get somewhere on campus. I just smiled and said that I was looking into grad school (don't want them to think I'm a freshmen) and just visiting myself, at which point I whipped out my handy campus map to help them. Such a display of confidence was no doubt aided by the tall beer I had at lunch. So, I think I'll be keeping the haircut for the time being. It may have been that they were all just confused and I was the only person nearby, but since the male ego is such a fragile thing, I'll stick with the haircut theory.

Uh-oh, it's rant time. Under the word freshmen I was going to have a link to a t-shirt that read, "Freshmen Girls: Get 'em while they're skinny." When I first saw that t-shirt I could not help but to laugh. Sure it is totally wrong, but I couldn't help myself, it was a knee-jerk reaction. During a search for the image, though, I came across some interesting articles. Some of these articles were well written, while others were simply reactionary. Before I get into my little rant here, I think it would be good to post some links to the better articles: #1, and #2. I'm not saying that these articles don't have valid points or that they're data is wrong, but I think people need to have a little perspective.

In my last post I poked fun at homosexual men (and heterosexual men too, but aparently no one gets offended if I offensively categorize straight men as having bad taste, go figure), and played upon stereotypes for the sake of humor. Before I posted it online, I had my gay brother read it. You know what he did? He laughed and then told me that was some pretty funny stuff. I asked him if it was offensive, to which he replied, "no." Why wasn't he up in arms, yelling at me for boxing in homosexual men and perpetuating the stereotypes that lead to hate crimes? Because, like I said before, it isn't healthy to take yourself seriously, and he knew it was just a joke. One of my favorite shows on television is Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn, and I don't even think Colin is funny. (You thought I was going to say that funny, but no, he's just not funny.) You know why I like it? Because it is every politically correct censor's nightmare. I hear more offensive stereotypes on that show than anywhere else, and the sick thing is that people will laugh at the comments in the privacy of their home and then turn around and call the show a disgrace to society when in public.

I'm not here to say that racism, sexist, homophobia, etc. is not a real problem in America, but what I am saying is that America seems to be losing its sense of humor. If someone is honestly displaying discriminatory behavior, go ahead, take offense. But please, please do not call me sexist because I use the word freshmen or laugh at a t-shirt.

I sometimes wonder if politcal correctness is starting to get a little out of hand. (Darn it, that's the fourth major literary reference in this blog. That's Orwell, Hardy, Swift, and Shakespeare, and the blog has just begun.) Ok, so to anyone that took offense to the fact that I just equated politcal correctness with newspeak, "It's a freakin' joke!!!!"

Sorry, this is supposed to be a light-hearted an funny blog. Perhaps then it's time for the...

Irony of the Day

Why is KU built where it is? It has been proven that Kansas is flatter than a pancake, so why did they build the university on the biggest hill they could find? Sure, it offers a nice view, but you try walking around campus in a 110 degree heat index and tell me that the view was worth it. Yeah, that's what I thought.

No, more than one you f*!@#&$ smart a#*

Yes, I got a hair cut, so I no longer look like the person in the picture to the right over there. (Update: At press time a different picture was in place. The current picture is an accurate representation of my appearance.) In fact, I've gotten my hair cut very, very short. Although not military style short, because I'm pretty sure I can't do more than about 10 real push-ups in a row (and who on earth wants to do pull-ups), and I would hate to give off the wrong impression to anyone.

Woah, that was totally trippy. (As I said coming to after having wisdom teeth removed, "Dad, is this what doing drugs is like?" No, I have no memory of that whatsoever.) What was trippy was that I was just browsing through my archives, but they had been replaced by random pictures. One was a guy running hurtles, another a tree, another some corporate icon. I have no idea. At first I just freaked out, but then I climbed down off the roof and republished my blog. Everything back to normal. Anyone else have that happen, if so, please tell me.

What was I talking about? Oh, the haircut. Yes, getting a new dew is a big deal for me, like random interactions with strangers. Aside from a brief stint in grade school with a flat-top (those things were so cool), I have basically had the same haircut since...well...since I have had hair. And no, interestingly enough, that hair in the picture to the right is not necessarily representative of my previous style. I was a part-down-the-left-side-because-I'm-really-anal kind of cut. I finally bit the bullet though, and, inspired by these guys, I though I'd let my gay brother help me out. Let's just say the hair is growing on me (HAH! Get it? The hair is growing on me! ...I'm an idiot). I'm yet to take it out for a test drive with the ladies, so the jury is still out on the new me.

So...what else happened today. I hung out with some friends before we all part ways for out Senior years at college. Wow, seniors. The real world approacheth quickly. Ha ha ha ha ha, that's just for my friends, I, on the other hand, will delay entry into the real world by *trumpet fanfare* grad school. Ooooh, Aaaah. To which end I will be visiting KU tomorrow.

Before I get to the irony for today (which will probably involve the casino we went to this evening, but I haven't decided) I would like to mention a few cool searches that made their way to this site. Ahem.

how to make a "walking stick" kids -yahoo
Jelly doughnut graphic picture -google
pimp walking stick -google

That last one is my favorite, especially because google puts me right at the top of that bad boy. Although I think that may be a return visitor who couldn't remember the URL (I really should change it to walkingstick.blogspot.com soon), I still enjoy being #1 at something. Oh, and what is the deal with that first one? I mean, come on, I can tell how to do that in three steps:

1. Find a stick that would serve as a decent walking aid
2. Remove any extraneous leaves, branches
3. There is no freakin' third step!

Irony of the Day

Why is it that suddenly straight men are seeking the advice of gay men on fashion, style, etc? I'm not saying they don't have better taste, but were we really doing that badly? I mean, seriously, the human race is still growing, isn't it? If a straight man starts dressing, grooming, furnishing like a gay man, won't women assume that he is, thus defeating the purpose? Ok, maybe you are more successful at picking up chicks, but you don't think they'll still be wondering in the back of you mind if you buy your clothes at the GAP, go to a Spa frequently, and decorate your house with tons and tons of candles? Yeah, I thought so.

Well, it seems that I have been caught trying to play around with the timestamps. Yes, yes, technically this wasn't posted before midnight Sunday, but you can just deal with it.

Ouch, this blog took a violent turn from the start.

So, on to today. My brother and I had some fun this afternoon in the dollar store. We spent quite a while trying to find an item that was wonderfully trashy, but were completely unsuccessful. What is this world coming too when you can't find something so tacky that it's cool in the dollar store?

Later that day I went with some friends down to this cool church in Kansas City called Jacob's Well. We had to take two cars because we were splitting up afterwards, which meant that I got to follow Candace, who can be fairly oblivious to her surroundings. A piece of advice for all you in blogland: Never follow a female blonde while driving, you're better off getting lost. I suppose I could get into specifics of why you shouldn't, but really, I only have so much time to write this blog, and you only have so much time to read it, so lets call it at that.

After dinner, a few people came over to my house for a giant game of Risk. It was myself, Nathaniel, Stan, and my 15 year old sister, Katie. Now, Nate, Stan, and I are probably the smartest guys who graduated from our highschool, so Katie became the pawn to whomever could convince her to join sides. Well, as it turns out, 3 hrs later, Stan made a stupid movie and almost annihilated Nathaniel at a point when Katie was in the dominant position. Nathaniel and I then agreed that Stan had to go, because his unpredictability was a liability to each of us. Well, we didn't weaken Katie enough in the process and consequently she won the game. It was sick, really. Thanks Stan.

Afterwards the rest of the guys stayed up discussing everything from the appropriate role of corporations in a capitalist economy, civil liberties in a transparent society, the erroding dominance of the US economy worldwide, worker versus consumer attitude in the US in Europe, the importance of widespread technology, whether a police state is inevitable, the frightning consolidation of news media, and why Cheez-Its are a superior snack.

Ok, so maybe that last one didn't come up, but that's probably because there is nothing to discuss; Cheez-Its simply are the best snack money can buy.

Since I've now proven how much of a dork I can be, I think I'll just move on to the...

Irony of the Day

Why is it that something can become so trashy/tacky that it is suddenly cool? If something is tacky, it then can either be replaced by something cooler or something more tacky, with each scenario being an improvement on the situation. That simply does not make sense logically. Perhaps that is why I, as a human being, will never be cool. But that's...ok.

Although, I think it is possible to move beyond cool trashy into simply hopelessly trashy, which throws yet another kink in the system.

Why did God create the sabbath, a day of rest?

"Four more years in purgatory," as my catholic roommate would say. God knows I'm just kidding...right? *long pause* Cool, no lightning. See, God has a sense of humor. Just take a look at this, this, and this. What?!? You were expecting the platypus? That's soooo overdone.

Speaking of freaks of nature, I was flipping through channels and watched some show about Lisa Marie Presley long enough to see footage of her kissing Michael Jackson. EEEEWWW!! I had to go take a shower afterwards because it was so gross. It was almost as bad as this kiss. (Don't worry, no pictures.)

Oh, and it appears that there is yet another Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles animated cartoon out. Who on earth came up with that brilliant story line? Which leads me into my...

Irony of the Day

Ok, the easy thing would be to point out that turtles already won the award for Species Least Likely to Learn Martial Arts. But I think the truely sad part about all of it is that a whole generation of kids has grown up thinking that Leonardo, Michaelangelo, Donatello, and Raphael are some crime fighting turtles, completely oblivious to their true identities. Or would the irony be more that this show, which had to have been conceived while drunk and/or high, names the main characters after some of the most influential artists of the Renaissance. Actually, I guess that meanst that they were definately high.

I promised a good story, but rather than add another confusing comment within a post, I thought I'd just make this a separate post altogether. This story involves spiders, of the biting nature, so the more squeamish of you should just skip ahead. Or go browse the archives. :)

I'm a big fan of socks. (Yes this is related to the story. Speaking of socks, did you know that the creators of South Park demanded that they receive new socks as part of their movie contract. Something to the tune of enough to wear a new pair every day for five years. Wouldn't that be awesome, cause nothing beats putting on new pair of socks!) Anyway, I don't like to sleep without socks on, so I threw on some before going to bed. I'm kind of a messy guy, so when I do laundry, the clean clothes have a tendancy to stay in the basket which resides on the ground. Well, aparently there was a spider residing in this particular pair of socks, and it did not take kindly to having its temporary residence so rudely disturbed. So it bit me. About eight or so times. I didn't notice because I fell right asleep and the spider wasn't much bigger than a nickel including the legs. This looks pretty much what I think the spider looked like. I have killed several in my room that resemble this picture.

I wake up the next morning to find eight (I counted) pink and purple circles (maybe dime sized) around my ankle and lower leg. I look in the mirror and notice a rash on my chest and down my arms. My hands had swollen up to the point that it was almost impossible to get my ring off, which normally fits quite loosely. This freaked me out, but being a guy, I didn't think it was worth going to the hospital over. The swelling went down pretty quickly after the shower, but the rash would return every time I got sweaty for the rest of the day. The next day I felt fine, but the bite marks didn't go away for about a week. For the next few months I also checked my socks by turning them inside out before putting them on.

So that's my spider story, and no, I still haven't found that spider from the last post.

Actually, I should have gone to bed this morning

For the sake of clarity, we'll consider this to be Friday's post.

Yeah, next time I decide to start a 2000+ word paper around midnight before its due, someone please bitch slap me. Hard! I did get some sleep Thursday night, though. A whopping 20 min. Yup, I went about 32 hrs on 20 minutes of sleep. Now I realize that some people are capable of such feats. I am not one of them.

I think I'm going to start an ironic point of the day section...

So, irony for Friday (yes I realize that Sunday is fast approaching, but after my day Friday, I think you'll understand). The paper was not due until 1:00 p.m. (or at least that was the impression that I was left with). I had plans to go golfing early friday morning with my dad, making it necessary to email the paper before leaving for golf. Therefore, I had to stay up all night to finish it, which really, really sucked. Consequently, I played some really, really horrible golf Friday. The irony being, that if I hadn't planned on a fun golf outing, I could have done the paper in the morning, after some decent sleep. Yet, because I stayed up all night, I just wanted to be in bed and not golfing anyway. Go figure.

So, on with the day. The golfing was horrible. Probably the worst round I've played in years. After basically passing out for two and a half hours afterwards, my dad and I went to the Royals game. Now my dad had a friend who knows a player, so we were going to get some great seats. (Hang on, gotta kill a spider. Oooh, that reminds me of a good story. I'll be right back...ugh, I was screwing around typing, and then it fell on the ground. I have no idea were it went. I hate that. Not that spiders bug me that much (pun definately not intended, although I'm sure the more anal-retentive of you thought, "oh, bad pun, and spiders are animals not bugs." To you I say, "Thank you captain obvious.") but I would have liked to kill it rather than just wondering when it's going to turn up on my pillow or something.) Ok, I just did a parenthesis inside of a parenthesis. That is really bad. I apologize for the digression. Wait, no I don't. If I apologized for every stupid digression that was to take in the future, I'll probably end up wasting a year of my life or something ridiculous.

Mooooving on...

So were at the ticket window to pick up our awesome tickets which are...standing freakin' room only. Now, I have done SRO tickets before, and that didn't bother me. But I also hadn't been told any of those times that I would be right on the front row close to first base. As it turns out, the players gave away too many tickets, and since the game was sold out, that was all that was left. Now I'm thinking, ok, that's fine, we'll just make the most out of it. Too bad I was only running on about three hours of sleep and already played golf, wearing me out. Oh, but the tragic story that was this day gets worse. (Trust me, that was sarcasm. As bad as I pretend this day was, it still involved a free golfing outing and free baseball game. Wait, that damn spider is back. One minute...I swear that's the fastest spider I've dealt with in a while...but he'll be back...they always come back. I have no idea what that was supposed to mean.) The royals got spanked. Bad. We left after the fifth inning.

We got home, had a few beers and some popcorn, and went to bed. The day that we had been planning for a while fell through completely. ("Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it" as my sister would say.) It was nice to finally get to bed though. That has to be just about the best feeling in the world, being able to lie down after way too much sleep depravation. (Actually, the best sleep in the world has to be the seven or so minutes snoozing. That stuff is like heroin man. "Just give me one more hit...one more hit!") Tomorrow is a new day though. Thank God.

Actually, there was one highlight to the day. I was checking out the stats for my webpage, and I noticed that I had some interesting searches that found their way here. (ACK!!! That friggin' spider just ran across my keyboard. I hate that. My that little #*@$ rest in peace.) There was the "Heidi Klum Sharks" search, but my favorite was the "pimpmobile" search. So from now on, when google thinks of pimpmobile, google thinks Walking Stick (after about 25 or so other things). It seems that this geek has gone pimp.

What can be put off until the day after tomorrow

Yes, I need to finish (read start) my Alexander the Great paper. It's due tomorrow, I've had a full week of no class, and still I wait until the day before it's due to start it. I love college.

So today was the great trek up to UNL. I want to go there for grad school. I personally cannot stand the Corn Huskers (what the heck kind of mascot is that, anyway?) but my lesson with Dr. Barnes was amazing. It made me wonder why I haven't been hearing these things for the past three years.

But that's not why you came to read this blog...

I do have some good stories from the treck. Shortly after I get out of my lesson, my dad and I decide to drive around Lincoln a little bit. The windows were cracked, lest the car get too hot in our absence, and so I thought it would be nice to rest my arm with my fingers slightly outside the window, resting on the roof. (Can you see where this was going?) So here I am, talking about what an incredible piano professor Dr. Barnes is, and my dad closes the freakin' window on my fingers. After a pitiful little yelp, the window slides back down, much to the relief of my vitally important right hand. Like I said, I am the personification of irony (or is that more depressingly unfortunate, a la Thomas Hardy. Man for a guy that isn't into the 'great' literature of the past, I've already made references to William Shakespeare, Jonathan Swift, and now Thomas Hardy. I guess I did learn something in school.)

Sorry for the digression. I should stop reading Where the Hell Was I?

The fingers are doing fine, thankfully. Just some minor bruising. Sorry if I disappointed your sadist expectations.

Funny story number two. On the way home, we saw a turkey that had been creamed on the highway. This, my dad and I thought, was a little weird, but in and of itself not necessarily worthy of blogging. What was truely bizarre was what we saw 30 seconds later. On the side of the highway was an SUV pulled over. As we got closer we saw guy shaking his head, looking at a side window that was busted through, as well as his back window that was totally broken. I cannot even imagine what could have possibily happened. Did the turkey mangage to break into this car via the side mirror, and escape out the back? Was he transporting a live turkey that suddently decided that freedom was worth dying for? Was this all merely a bizarre coincidence? (Yeah, that last one is stupid. Sorry for even mentioning it.) Weirdness abounds.

This evening has been less uneventful, but I do have to write this stupid paper. Oh, and one more thing. I think maybe one person read my last post. What!?! That one was classic (can you have a classic after only a few weeks?) So, to the two people that will read this post: If you like it, comment, email me, blogroll me, send me $20. Any of the aforementioned (I love that word) options will do quite nicely.

Now, off to prove that Alexander the Great did not consider himself to be a god. (Actually a more controversial topic than you might expect.)

The Royals Won!! A shutout against the Yankees!! Unbefreakinleavable!!

Ok, I'm better now.

Oh, lets see, other good news, I'm done with work today. Whoot! Tomorrow I visit UNL to meet with Dr. Paul Barnes.

The one really sad part of not going to work, is that I won't be able to drive by my favorite auto body shop "Urban Street Wear." Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.

pimpmobile: Big bodied domestic sedan or coupe. Preferably Lincolin, Cadillac, or Chevrolet Impala/Caprice, although Ford LTD or Chrysler Newports suffice. Vehicle may contain any or all of the following: Spoke rims, hydraulics, stereo system that (at loud volumes) can make rear view mirror detatch from windshield, accumulate noise violation tickets, or make the screws holding the license plates on back out. In addition the vehicle favored as a pimpmobile can contain: window tint, more chrome than the automobile came from factory with, fuzzy dice, leopard print or leather interior, shag carpet, custom license plates (commonly refering to the vehicle as a pimpmobile or the driver as a pimp).
Also see: Ghetto Cruizer, Hooptie, Urban Assault Vehicle
Example:Take off your shoes ho, it's not a right, it's a privilege to ride in the pimpmobile.

Every day I drive by and think, is this the day that I pimp out my '93 Mercury Sable? One day I might just say yes. Yeah baby, yeah!

Speaking of pimping, what's up with this year's shark week? Now, I realize that TLC has long ago sold out to a dozen or so variations on the same remodeling show, but at least there was the discovery channel. At least one station was there to provide quality educational television. (Ok, so that isn't exactly true, especially considering that the discovery channel has the only guy who can make Richard Simmons look straight). No one, however, is safe from the ever-present downward spiral of television. Everyone knows that sex sells, so why not get Heidi Klum (sorry, I'm not even going to venture that google search) herself to help host one of the shows, because obviously I as the viewer will be learn a lot more about her br...er...the sharks that way. The only thing that remains is to have Heidi Klum actually eaten by the sharks. Sex and violence...hmm...how to work in drugs...

Now on FOX: When Sharks Attack Coked-up Supermodels 4!

(I can't even imagine what kind of traffic this post will bring in)

First, before I get too far into my post, I have to point you in the direction of my new favorite blog, Where the Hell Was I? Instead of all the annoying "I need a girlfriend/boyfriend," "I hate republicans/democrats/baby seals," "OMG! I had the best jelly doughnut today!" sh...tuff, this is pure entertainment, with a full serving of wit and small helping of reality. The posts are a bit long, but well worth the read. Go there. Now.

(You know, by actually linking to these blogs, I'm sort of undermining my own position, no? But making fun of people exists beyond the realm of rhetoric.)

So, my life is irony, personified.

Some examples... all unintentional...

After being dumped by college girlfriend, Kate, I ask out her roommate the next semester. Good call.

Later on, I find out that another girl I'd been interested in for a while, Jessie, and that I asked out recently, had the dated the guy who dated Kate right after I did. I'll pause while you process.

I hear that another Jessica, the former roommate of my roommate's then fiance (they're married now) said that I would be "the perfect guy to marry." The feeling was not mutual.

Most recently, I ended up roomming with the quasi-ex-boyfriend (don't ask) of my good friend Laura for a short time.

Phew...time for that jelly doughnut

Now, while today witnessed nothing of that level of excitement, I think the following ironies are worth mentioning... Ahem.

While I really enjoyed another random search finding its way to my site, I'm not sure if searching for "ignorance and stupidity" is a compliment to me.

I found myself torn this evening between watching the Royals game and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Freud is having a field day.

On a more serious note, I heard a rather sad comment today (no, honestly sad, not pathetic sad). The company I work for is primarily responsible for just about anything dealing with foster kids, but in accounting I get to at least avoid most of the horror stories (although a quick glance through the database of children is depressing enough). Today however, as I was walking to another part of the building, I heard a mom say to a kid, "Stay strong, you're gonna be home soon." I really wished that were true, but if the odds were in her favor, I wouldn't have a job. It's just sad the situations these kids face. Sometimes the parents are good people, just aren't able to properly raise a child. More often there is serious abuse and neglect. The foster parents can be bad too. Some do it for the money, which is usuall $500-$1000 per kid per month. They see it as another source of income. Why do we keep them on? Well, I'm not in a position to give an honest answer; money has a tendancy to bring out the worst in everyone, so hopefully I'm simply wrong. But when we get foster parents on the phone, demanding their payment immediately so they can pay for x item unrelated to the kids, you start to figure it out. I also by no means intend to give all foster parents a bad name, or my company for that matter (whose name I have edited from this blog). It just really is a shame for those kids.

And there is no easy solution.

Today started on a very sad note, Gregory Hines has died at age 57. Why do I mention him, and neglect to comment on Bob Hope's death, you ask? Well, I actually had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Hines a few years ago. During one of his shows, he invited anyone who could tap dance up to the stage. My brother, anticipating this, was the first to perform. Afterwords, he invited all who came up on stage to join him after the show backstage. I must say that he was an absolute class act. It is a shame to see him go. I think I'll go rent White Nights in his honor.

A moment of silence, please...

In case you haven't noticed, I've also just realized that Blogger is cool with html in these posts, so I'll be linking much more frequently from now on.

Let's see, today I returned to work doing accounting in Kansas City. Hmm...good times. The accounting work is boring, but at least it pays decent. That and my boss and co-workers are pretty cool.

Um...I practiced, ate, went to wal-mart, had a glass of wine, watched the royals game, and am now here.

Mmm...linking...

Ok, so that isn't until tomorrow, but I can feel it quickly approaching.

So, this weekend, good times. On Friday, after my last post, I went to dinner with my friend Laura, and all the upper-level residential living staff at my college. It's weird that I know so many of these people, but have actually never been involved in res life myself. Anyway, I got a dinner on them (bout time I got something from those bureaucratic !@*^#%& :). Afterwards I saw American Wedding. Aside from a totally unnecessary nude scene the movie was quite funny. I hadn't seen any of the other movies, so I imagine that a few jokes were lost on me.

Oh, something that happened at dinner that I was proud of myself for. Our waitress was really cute, probably 23 yrs old. We were having a bizarre conversation at the table about what color my shirt was (don't get me started), so to settle the debate I asked our waitress. That got us chatting for a few seconds anyway. Now, I realize that you are saying, Andy, that's what normal people do everyday. Well, I'm not normal. This is part of a long process of trying to be more outgoing and unafraid to chat with cute girls. That I even did this was a great success for me (stop smirking). A quote from my INTJ profile (see about me -->)

"Personal relationships, particularly romantic ones, can be the INTJ's Achilles heel. While they are capable of caring deeply for others (usually a select few), and are willing to spend a great deal of time and effort on a relationship, the knowledge and self-confidence that make them so successful in other areas can suddenly abandon or mislead them in interpersonal situations"

I don't think I could have said it better myself. The last part is especially true. But I'm on a mission, damnit, and no one can stop me, bwa ha ha ha ha.

Moving on. Like I had mentioned before, this evening was a celebration of Alicen's birthday, which came at a wonderful time to celebrate the ending of my interim class. Not to much to really say about the evening. I can say one thing though, "Vodka shots = bad idea."

Sat. I came home, did laundry, ate food. That's about it, really. Oh, I got some sleep, too.

Today I went to go see my sister in a play. She goes to this camp every summer where these highschool kids learn and put on a musical in a week. It was, needless to say, boring. My sister had only a bit part this summer, so even that small joy was diminished. She was surprised to see me, though, so that made it worth it. (Everyone now: Awwww. )

That about does it for now. Tomorrow I go back to work (joy of joys) and then Thursday I go to the University of Nebraska for another grad school visit.

See you tomorrow

Finally, after two weeks of doing little else but study Alexander, the class has come to an end. I still have to write the final paper, which is due in one week, but no more class! Which also means no more contact with Jessica, the cute girl of the class, but I'm willing to sacrifice her for my sanity :)

Yes, last night I stayed up until 3 am working on my presentation for today, which I am pleased to say went rather well. I did not consult my notes very much, and spoke both extemporaneously and with authority. Boo yah!

More good news, I get to help celebrate the 21st birthday of another cute girl, Alicen, which is a great way to cap off these two weeks. Rock on!

Um...that's about it actually. I've spent the vast majority of my time since my last post either sleeping or working on this presentation. So nothing else to report here. Tomorrow's post should (knock on wood) have some good stories. Stay tuned!

Why aren't more people happy.

Sorry, I've got a few problems with my class, but I'll get to that...

Last night...um...I finished all my reading, well, almost, and outlined all the different evidence for whether or not Alexander the Great thought himself to be a god. I also had a Myers-Briggs test given to me. I am an INTJ, in case you are wondering.

Let's see, that is about all the excitement I had for yesterday (after the previous entry, that is).

Oh yes, I also watched Reservoir Dogs last night. That was not quite what I was expecting, extermely dark. Overall, if you don't mind language and graphic violence, I'd give this my thumbs up.

Today I slept in for too long, and consequently didn't get to start reading the last bit about Alexander, that of Diodorus. I just finished printing out the relevant parts, 67 pgs Times New Roman 12 pt font with 1" margins. Guess what I'll be doing tonight!

Finally, the ignorance comment. Four people gave presentations today, one of which was interesting, two of which were completely insufferable. I got to hear spoken back to me what I've been spending the last two weeks reading. I don't need to hear it again, give me some insight for pete's sake! Let's try and move past a base level analysis! One of my faults is that I have very little patience for ignorance and stupidity. I'm the only one that isn't a history major in this class, and there are definatley people that I could be helping out. Ok, sometimes these ancient authors are not the most clear, but it isn't anywhere as confusing as some people are making it out to be. I'm done. Stopping....now. Hopefully I won't make myself out to be a complete fool tomorrow, after this little rant.

After class I came here, looked up Book XVII of Diodorus' great work, printed it off, and started typing. Tomorrow I go out to help celebrate Alicen's (pronounced Allison's) 21st birthday party. I could really use it right about now :)

Sorry guys and gals. The library hours here on campus have become very restictive, i.e. not open on weekends, barely open otherwise. So what have I been up to, you ask?

Well, the most memorable event was the celebration of Laura's birthday party. Laura has been a friend of mine since highschool, one of my weirder friends, but a great friend nonetheless. So we hit a few bars with some peeps. Got to see a few people I haven't seen since last semester. It was all around good times. Boulevard Wheat beer is good stuff, but scotch on the rocks (I think it was a J&B that I had) was definately not.

A few drinks and a few bars later, our disignated driver took us all to Pancake City, a staple of the our community. What is this Pancake City, you ask? Well, it is the only place aside from Country Kitchen that is open that is open 24hrs a day. Mmm...chocolate chip pancakes. During our meal I was sitting across from a very cute friend of Laura's. I honestly know her name, I swear, but I'm having a brain blackout at the moment. (Which reminds me that the cute girl in my class is named Jessica, no, not the annoying Jessica who was roommates with Melynne, nor the Jessie I asked out last semester, or the Jessica that I'm leading a small group with this next semester, am I forgetting anyone?) Regardless, aside from being a vegetarian, she's pretty cool.

What else, what else. Things have been really quiet around the house lately. Two of the guys left, leaving just me and Jason, who works 8 hrs a day. So, that means I've enjoyed listening to my music in the livingroom while reading book upon book about Alexander the Great. I've finished Green, Quintus Curtius Rufus, Plutarch, am almost done with Arrian, and then Diodorus tomorrow. Good times had by all!

Oh, one last thing to note, the basement of this house I'm staying in is about the creepiest thing I've ever seen. Rock walls, dirt floor, more cobwebs than you can shake a stick at. Two little rooms that look more like jail cells than anything. The whole thing was very reminiscent of Silence of the Lambs. You know, that creepy guy's basement. Yeah, that's what we're dealing with, minus the pit of course.

I think that's about all the really interesting stuff, four days is hard to summarize succinctly.

Aren't alliterations fun? I did an incredible amount of reading yesterday. I ended up in the library from 3:30 to somewhere around 7:00 just reading. I wouldn't recommend it. Sleep will always creep up on you. Then after that...not much. To be perfectly honest (and that's the point of these blogs, isn't it?) I played Civilization II for the rest of the evening, so I could conquer the world, if only on my mac. Yeah, that was pretty much it. (I hear there are some lives going cheaply on ebay.) (You know, "get a life"...geez guys, I'm doing my best here).

Today has so far been as interesting. I spent most of my morning finalizing the details for my presentation on "Alexander's Feast" by Handel. Good stuff, yo. (I have just been informed that my being white excludes me from the usage of the word 'yo'. I apologize to anyone whom I may have offended.)

The presentation went quite well. If you're wondering about the enigmatic title, it is a line from the text of the music. It is actually a pretty cool piece, if you like baroque oratorio's that take up 2 CD's :)

After some presentations, we were informed that we have tomorrow off, which unfortunately for me means that I'll be available to help a friend of mine move. The japanimation I was talking about yesterday is weird, but kinda cool. It's called Reign, or something to that effect if you're interested. Uh oh, computer games, Japanese cartoons...my life has just reached a new low.

On the other hand, this guy in our class invited everyone to a party, and the only reason I considered it for a second was this cute girl whose name I can never remember. Oh sure, I can remember that my prof's dog is frank, but I'll be damned if my waoisdo brain can remember the name of a cute girl. I mean, come on! The party scene is not for me, though. I enjoy a glass of wine or cold mug of beer every now and then, but drinking with the intent to get drunk and/or sick is not my cup of tea. The guys I'm living with, however, have set up a nice theater system in their house (considering we're broke college kids), so I'm thinking movies this weekend, preferably something better than Pirate of the Caribbean.