January 2004 Archives

I'm going to Texas

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Yes, on purpose.

Well folks, one of these days I'm going to go visit a state worth mentioning on this blog. I'm not sure when, and I may have to blog for a few more years before it happens, but by golly, I'm gonna see to it that it does.

(You see, in that last sentence, I was practicing my "I may be applying for graduate school but I'm still down to earth and can relate to people below the Mason-Dixon line speaking style." You know, the kind politicians on both sides use to pretend like they aren't wealthy and can relate to ordinary folk." Why yes, I have been drinking, why do you ask? Well, that's technically true, but I doubt that a solitary beer counts. Sorry to disappoint. Although, I will say that the next time I'm sloshed I will post here. Misspellings and all. I wouldn't hold your breath, though.)

Um, anyway, I have another grad school audition on Saturday, so posts are going to be most likely non-existent. Although, blogging while traveling is something I've to do, so you may yet hear from me this weekend.

On another note, I lost in a glorious first-round battle over at Blog Madness. Unlike the NCAA, though, these guys are doing a double-elimination tourney. Sweet lovin'! So head on over here to vote in the next round. As per the rules, please do read both posts before voting. No, seriously, I know your IP address, I know that you live in ...ish, and I'll come to your house and make you read both posts if you don't. That's what I thought.

Well, here's wishing y'all out there in blog-land a pleasant weekend. 'Night.

Thought for the Day

I personally have never cared much for Country Music. Ok, I think it should be made illegal. (Although I really like bluegrass, weird, huh?) Anyway, as I was driving home and scanning the radio, I came across this song by Toby Keith. I must admit, any genre that can produce the following lyrics is worth a second look.

A little less talk
If you please
A lot more loving
Is what I need
Let's get on down
To the main attraction
With a little less talk
And a lot more action.

Thank God I'm a Country Boy! (It's a good thing I'm going to be a thousand or so miles away from my girlfriend. Maybe by the time I come back she'll have forgotten about that.)

It's cold outside

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Captain Obvious attempts to once again vanquish his nemesis, Doesn't-Really-Give-a-Hoot-Man.

Folks, I have to tell you, it's remarkably cold outside. According to the friendly folks over at Weather.com it is 1° outside. That's right, 1°. Go ahead, count 'em. Didn't take long, did it? Of course, the -15° windchill doesn't really help much either. Darn it's cold. Unfortunately for everyone within a 300 mile radius of here, it's all my fault.

"How can this be?" you ask. Do I somehow posses control over the butterfly effect, effectively controlling the weather. Did I, during my Native American rite of passage, learn that the rain dance is just a mumbo jumbo and it's really the icy/snowy/windy/freezing weather dance that is truly effective? Well, yes, but that's beside the point.

You see, a few days ago I declared that, "We've had a really mild winter around here so far. Only one real snow storm to speak of." Inside of 24 hrs Kansas City and St. Louis were all nailed with ice storms. Kirksville received a nice chunk of snow. To top it all off, then, fate opened up a can of windchill on our respective butts. (Oh, and for everyone that lives East of here, my bad.)

Now, it really isn't the cold that bother me so much. Really, it isn't. It's my nose. You see, for the first time this winter, I have had the snot in my nose literally freeze. I think you know the feeling. You step outside, and within about 5 seconds you notice that your nose feels funny. It is usually at this point where you either inhale deeply or scratch the offending appendage. Either action then results in the discovery that there is most certainly something frozen in your nose, and frankly, there are only so many things that can freeze up there. (That bead you inhaled in 3rd grade doesn't count. I know, I was hoping it would too.)

I really shouldn't complain, though. First, Missouri is still rather temperate in comparison to Minnesota, North Dakota, Maine, or even Alaska. (But they don't count because... um... their one show got canceled.) Also, I could literally exist comfortably within a 200 yards (182.88 meters) of my room for an extended amount of time. My classes are adjacent to this dorm, food is provided, mail comes directly to the building... I might go insane after a while, but it couldn't be worse than that time in the South Orkney Islands.

Well, I think I've made my point. The randomness meter is now officially off the scale. Oh, and if you get a second, stop by my Blog Madness match, read both posts, and then vote. As of post time I'm locked in a 14-14 tie with Wendi Milner after jumping out to an early lead. This one is going to go down to the wire.

Oh yes, I was going to bed. I think I've made up enought stuff for this evening (except that rite of passage thing, that was pretty sweet).

State of the Blog

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(I have to warn you as I start that I have just spent the last hour learning about Viennese Modernism, specifically in the context of the Philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein and the composer Arnold Schönberg. My thoughts then, are floating around in the realm of the philosophical and esoteric, and as such are a stark difference from the usual sleep-deprived, humorous writings of the past. You have been warned.)

As I celebrate the 6 month anniversary of this blog, I cannot help but to reflect on what has gotten me to this point, as well as look into the future. Certainly this landmark is the spark for such reflection, but perhaps I also find it necessary to explain, i.e. justify, why I have devoted countless hours over the last six months to this project. A brief internet search tells me that my approximately 70,000 written words is of justifiable novel-length, and anytime one writes a novel (though this undertaking is obviously not of that medium) one should certainly have a purpose in doing so. All that being said, I hope, in the course of this essay, to explore the reasons I blog as well as my opinion of blogging in a more general sense.

Already I have touched on one reason and generalization of my blogging in that last sentence. The very nature of this essay is introspective, yet I am making it exceptionally public. Such is the nature of many blogs (although blogs do fall into various categories), and indeed, that philosophy underlines the original reasons I began blogging.

I came across my first blog while searching around the internet as a lonely, single college student. At the time I was voraciously consuming any article I could find about dating, relationships, and ultimately how I could get myself out of my isolated, self-pity state. Ironically enough, the very act of seeking relationship advice on the internet furthered the state from which I was trying to escape, but I digress. In this search I came across a blog about a gentlemen in Oregon who, like me, found social interaction with strangers and specifically attractive strangers of the opposite sex to be not only frightening but also practically impossible. He had decided to set certain goals for himself, to be met on a daily basis, that were aimed at a progressive movement towards extroversion. (I use that word in the more common sense of being outgoing and not the technical sense of drawing energy and gratification from that which is outside the self. One can change behavior, but deeply-rooted personality characteristics are another issue.) Thus, he started his blog as a means of mass accountability to these goals.

I became fascinated with his story, which had unfortunately ended by the time I had gotten there. I discovered though, that I could browse the archives at will and literally retrace the entire story. I did not know that I was looking at a blog at the time, but simply a personal website that was updated on a regular basis. This was a few years ago, however, and I cannot say specifically what prompted my leap into the blogging community. I can only speculate that I rediscovered blogging and, prompted by the memory of my first experience with blogs, decided to become a blogger myself.

I had kept journals in the past, usually for a few months or so, and often had a desire for someone to read it. Of course I was presented with the obvious problem that this personal journal would hardly be appropriate for someone who knew me. It should come as little surprise, then, that my first blog posts were essentially very personal, but also very public journal entries. I did not inform anyone I knew of the blog, with the intention of keeping my audience at a safe distance and allowing myself to express my private thoughts.

I will also not lie and say that I was blogging merely for the exhibitionist thrill. I was also seeking a new community in which I could get involved. That is to say, I was feeling a bit lonely. I have no doubt that this is a common thread amongst a large number of bloggers, even those that write for different purposes. I am by nature a private individual that needs time to be alone, but I also derive much of my self-worth from the friendships I maintain. I'm not saying this is exclusively the case or that I'm not striving to change both aspects of my personality, rather this should be viewed as a generalization of my nature that I am aware of and consciously attempting to change.

(As a bit of clarification, I should note that while a great deal of my self-worth is derived from others, as an introvert I derive my energy from within. Indeed, I need time to myself to recharge after spending time with other people. Hence the unfortunate irony of my nature.)

That all slowly began to change, however, for a variety of reasons. First of all, I realized that it was quite boring. As a new blogger I began to seek out blogs that I would be interested in reading. I quickly discovered, though, that the personal blogs were often difficult to follow. After all, how could you understand the posts without first knowing the author's history? As I also mentioned already, these blogs were usually boring without intimate knowledge about the author.

There was also a second, more pragmatic reason for the shift in my writing--Blogger was purchased by Google. After that business deal went through, all the blogs that were hosted by Blogger were indexed by Google. (This conclusion is not derived by direct evidence, but rather from personal experience and therefore may not be valid.) As I tracked referrals to my site, I noticed a large increase in google searches. I had not anticipated it being possible to discover my site via search engines and thus did not hesitate to use my real name or the name of my college and other specific personal details. It was not too long, then, before a friend of mine discovered my blog on google.

I panicked. I quickly went back and literally censored my blog. I deleted information in posts and, in a few cases, posts entirely. Those that have been around from the beginning may have noticed this change, and those posts still reflect that purge. I was now in an even more unfortunate situation than I was before. My posts were still boring and now even lacked the 'juicy' personal thoughts. It was time for a fundamental shift in my approach to blogging.

I knew that I did not want to stray too far from my original intent for blogging, but the public, personal journal was no longer an option. I did not wish to delve into the world of pundits, for reasons that could encompass another massive post, but there was another option I was not fully considering. I could still blog about personal events, but rather than appealing the audience's voyeuristic tendencies, I could appeal to their sense of humor.

On August 12 of last year, I came across a (then) little-known blog called Where the Hell Was I?. Here I read about how this bizarre person named Charlie faced everyday obstacles in refreshingly humorous ways. Following his blogroll a bit, I found other authors dedicated to the same cause. Their intent is almost always humor, but humor that is derived from everyday life, much in the same way a good stand-up comedian derives his material. For good or for ill, I followed Charlie's example and started making light of my everyday life. "It isn't healthy to take yourself too seriously" became my motto, and I have since shamelessly flaunted (and in a few cases embellished) my life for the amusement of others.

My focus defined, the next step was to secure an audience. I registered my blog at every blog listing website I could find, but how was I supposed to stand out among the thousands of other blogs at each site? Clearly there had to be a better way. While I wanted to increase my audience base, there were two things I was determined not to do.

The first of which was to increase traffic via google. Other bloggers discovered this phenomenon by accident, while others have intentionally put phrases in their blogs to drive up hits. While I have no doubt that mentioning something about a girl named after a French capital in a multimedia presentation would bring in a great deal more traffic, there needs to be made a distinction between hits and loyal viewers. Secondly, I would not go around linking to popular blogs in the hopes that I could receive a link in return. As blogrolls continue to grow exponentially, the value of the outgoing links is severely diminished to the point where most viewers won't even skim the list of links, much less use them. I was determined to keep my own blogroll short and effective.

This inevitably meant, then, that I was going to have to earn my fans through competitions and through exceptional writing. Despite those that clamor on about the inequality between traffic and quality, I have seen several cases where excellent blogs can quickly earn a solid fan base simply by word of mouth.

I have since entered into various competitions, primarily as a way to gain further exposure for Walking Stick. Some of them have been meaningless popularity contests, others, such as Blog Madness (which has just begun), offer at least the hope of realistic results. I also recently received my weblog review, which has also brought several curious viewers to this site.

So where I am now? My average daily hits are still rather modest, but I do have several dedicated followers out there. I have also achieved my goal of increasing the number of hits to this site each month over the last six months. I am quite proud of that accomplishment and with the recent improvements, expect that trend to proceed for the foreseeable future.

The nature of my posts and the audience they seek have also changed little since I redefined my focus. I still write to primarily to amuse, although I do allow myself more personal details as I now have several friends and long-time followers of this blog checking in. I still it difficult to achieve that pleasant mix of humor and personal news, but the process has gotten much more refined over the last few months. I was very proud to read, then, my weblog reviewer when he wrote, "This blog is a must-read, because there are only a few blogs out there which succeed in giving each and every post a personality."

While the intention of the posts of Walking Stick have stayed the same for the last several months, my reasons for blogging have changed. When I began, I was seeking an outlet for my thoughts as well as new acquaintances. I was lonely and was seeking acceptance in whatever form I could. Now, most all of that has fallen by the wayside. I have a girlfriend of over four months now, I have settled into a new group of friends, and generally find my life to be fulfilling both socially, academically, and spiritually. So what is my motivation now?

That's a good question, and perhaps the reason I began this long essay in the first place. One reason, which is hardly a good one, is that I've already put so much work into making this endeavor a successful one that it would be ridiculous to quit now. More importantly, though, I enjoy doing it. I enjoy being apart of this enormous blogging community. I enjoy making others laugh and getting to know new people. I enjoy having my own small corner of the internet. I also enjoy the friendships I've made along the way. Granted, I've never met anyone on my blogroll in person, but it's been an enjoyable experience exchanging emails with people from around the world. No, these blogging relationships will never be able to replace what some might call "real" friends, but it does make this hobby worthwhile.

In all respects then, that is how I view blogging--as a society. Blogs have become so prolific in the last few years that virtually everyone is represented. Indeed, this large society in which we participate in some ways mirrors the societies which we are involved with on a daily basis. As a society, the blogging world has its positives and negatives, and I honestly have not explored enough of it to give you a nice, concise summary. I will tell you, though, that I have enjoyed finding my own niche in this society, and will hopefully continue to do so for quite a while.

Walking Stick, version 3.0

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Ladies and Gentlemen!
Trumpets, that's your cue!

Welcome to the new and improved, movable type version of Walking Stick.

Ahem. That's right folks. I, along with many others in the blogging community have made the jump over to MT thanks to a special offer from 1 and 1 hosting. (It's a lame name, but it's a sweet deal.) I hope you enjoy the upgraded design.

You see, today is officially the 6 month anniversary of my blog, and I thought that today would be an appropriate day to unveil the new website. I've been working on it for weeks now, tirelessly learning all about MT, CSS, SSH, SCP, Perl, and other goodies, so that the website could be fully functional at launch time. I've gone through and fixed all the internal links, transferred the comments from haloscan, and even fixed some dead links in the archives.

Unfortunately, there are still a few things that did not quite get accomplished by the launch deadline. I still need to go back and fix the rest of the dead links, but most importantly I have to go around to every single blog listing website that I use and fix the links. Which reminds me, if you are awesome enough to be linking to the old address, if you could update your links, that'd be awesome. I'll see if I can't get an email out to you all here soon.

Something I would ask of you, my lovely and loyal readers, is that if you find a dead link, see a typo (there are plenty, let me assure you), or have a suggestion that you not hesitate to leave a comment or drop me a line. I'd appreciate it very much.

Tomorrow then, I'll deliver my own State of the Blog address. Questions on the slate are: Why do I blog? Is this reason different from when I started? For whom am I writing? What are some of my observations about the blogging community as a whole? What do I see in the future for Walking Stick?
If you have any questions you'd like to ask, I'm hereby opening it up for discussion. Assuming the questions aren't too terribly offensive or obscene, I'll answer 'em all, even if they're complete bizarre and irrelevant.

That may do it for now, folks. Take a spin around the new place. Read the About Me page if you're new.

Oh, and one more thing, the voting for Blog Madness has begun. My match can be found here, so run on over there, read both posts, and then vote for whichever you feel is best.

I think that'll do it for tonight, folks. There are still several things to be done finalize the transition and I haven't been doing well on sleep lately. Anyway, here's wishing you a good night and a pleasant tomorrow.

The Audition

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I hope that wasn't the 15 minutes Mr. Warhol was talking about.

Good day, good sirs and ladies. How art thou on this blustery January morning?

Ahem. I mean, whaz uuuuuuuuuuuuuup!

No? Ok then, we'll just settle for, good morning.

Good morning? What the heck? I haven't blogged in the morning in a long time. Oh sure, I write these entries in the AM almost exclusively anymore, but never in the space between, oh, 6 AM and noon. Hence the weirdness at the start here.

My trip went very well, thanks for asking. That's a bit over 300 miles off the 2,860 miles of travel to be done by March 5th. Very exciting. Of course, it all seems a bit silly. Here I am, driving for about 11 hours total, staying overnight in a hotel, spending hours upon hours practicing for this audition, and it's all over in fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes? You have got to be kidding me! If I'm going to do all that work they had better hear me for at least, say, twenty minutes. Damnit!

Regardless, the audition went well and there isn't anything else to be done at this point, which frankly is quite a relief. I have three left to do yet, though, and 2,560 miles yet to travel, so I better be getting back to work.

I'm sorry, apparently I am completely and utterly unfunny when I'm awake and lucid. I'll try again later today. Sorry.

He he. Utter sounds like udder.

See, pathetic.

Oh, on a more blog related note, the voting over at Blog Madness is about to begin. My match is against Wendi Miller. Good luck to ya Wendi, but I'm afraid Thor is not too keen on losing. Hey, don't blame me. Oh, and before you run over there and vote, I'd suggest you read the the rules on voting before your little mouse button goes all willy-nilly on ya.

I have no idea what I'm talking about anymore.

Thought for the Day

My girlfriend got a fortune cookie that read, "You posses unending wisdom and power." Should I be worried?

Here today, gone tomorrow

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Tomorrow I go to the great state of... Nebraska? Is that a typo? It isn't? Damn.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, old people and "The Man," tomorrow I leave to have my first graduate school audition in Nebraska. Yup, good ole UNL. (Hint: not to be confused with UNLV. God only knows what they study there.) And yes, since you asked, I am going there on purpose. Yes, it's Nebraska. Yes, the climate is even colder there. Yes, the football stadium when filled is the third largest city in the state. And of course, they have a freakin' unicameral legislature. Man, what year do they think this is? Forget it! Trip canceled!

Oh wait, I don't care. I'll just be there for a few years anyway. In all seriousness, though, there is something that scares me about grad school. I won't be living in a dorm anymore.

Believe me, if it was financially viable for me to do so, I would have moved off campus years ago. Now, I'm going to be thrust into a foreign land and will have to fend for myself. What about cooking? I figure I can only eat Mac and Cheese for about 119 days straight (and I still lost the bet), so I'll have to start cooking for myself.

Now don't get me wrong, I can do breakfast foods and stuff on the grill, but that is the man's domain of the kitchen. (Oh no, there I go being a pig again. C'mon. Tell me your Dad isn't the guy to do the grilling. Thought so. Let the flame wars begin!) I've learned a few dinner recipes from my parentals and my girlfriend, but my repertoire is going to have to expand greatly if I am to survive. If my picture on this site starts looking like Ghandi, please come over and feed me.

I think that might have to be it for tonight, folks. I've got a big day ahead of me, so I'll need my rest. (-10 man points.) What?! -10 points?! You ho-bag. How dare you! (Okay, -5, but only because you used the term 'ho-bag.') Sweet.

Is that a hyphenated word?

Thought for the Day

As long as I don't forget to wear pants for my audition, it'll at least be better than the last one.

You laugh, but have you ever seen Shine or The Competition. Pantsless Pianists are a common theme in both.

(Oh, like I've never heard that joke before. Ha ha. I'm a pianist. Very funny. Did you also know I'm graduating with a Bachelor of Music? Laugh it up, funny anonymous person. I'll get you some day. I have your IP address.)

It's Official

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We've hit the 2,000 mark over here. I know that you all are just dying to know who the lucky 2,000th visitor is. Well wait no more...

It was Faz of Faz-in-a-Box. Congratulations Faz! You get... um... a virtual pat on the back!

<pat pat>

Seriously though, thanks for sticking around, even when I didn't post for about a month there, and being our #1 commenter.

Well folks, expect a regular post this evening, but tomorrow I'm heading up to Nebraska for grad school auditions (wish me luck), so I won't be probably posting again until Saturday.

Until the next post, then, head on over to Blog Madness and register your favorite post from last year. It's going to be an NCAA-style competition, but the deadline for submissions is tonight, so get your butt over there.

A dying breed

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No, seriously, these guys could go any second now.

Today was the day I went to go get a hair cut. Before I describe the experience, I should tell you a few things about myself and haircuts. First of all, I always, always wait entirely too long before getting one. I would say that the time between when I first say, "I need a haircut" to actually getting one averages about one month or so. Seriously. I often even resort to taking a regular pair of scissors to get the hair away from my ears before I head to the barber shop. Of course, after doing that, you don't want to go to the barber shop immediately, lest they notice your horrible temporary fix. So you've got to wait it out a bit more until you can't notice the unevenness and then go to get a haircut. So as I was saying, I often wait far too long before getting a haircut.

The second thing you need to know about my haircut preferences is that I will only go to a barber shop. That's right a barber shop. Not some Salon or stylist or (shudder) a wanna-be salon (those are the worst). Those aren't for me. If it doen't have a barber pole on the premises, I won't be going in there. (Well, unless of course it's a different kind of store entirely. I don't need to have a barber poll in front of a movie rental store, but it would be nice, I suppose.) This is not the only requirement, though. Oh heck no. The barber has to be at least 50 years old or so. I like the assurance of someone who's given the same haircut for the last 30 years. A large majority of the clientele must also be native to the area. It's also nice when you get people who just hang out in the barber shop for a bit every day because it's a part of their routine. Hmm... am I forgetting anything else? Oh, if the barber pulls out a straight razor and warm shaving cream, you've found your man. (Or sometimes a woman. The barber I like back in my hometown is a woman. See, we're all sorts of progressive 'round here.)

All that being said, I already had a nice barber here in the 'ville. He met all of the following requirements in spades. Unfortunately, he's really slow. In fact, given that he's the only person that works there and it takes about half an hour per cut, you could easily be in that little shop for a few hours. For a while, I accepted it. You know, some people meditate, I go to the barber shop. Of course, allotting two hours in a day for one haircut can be a bit ridiculous, so I decided to venture out to see what my other options were.

I knew of another barber shop on the square. I had seen it before and confirmed the existence of a barber pole and old barbers. I also had gotten recommendations from a few friends. Today, I was venturing out on a limb. A haircut is a big deal, as this guy will tell you. (I realize now that I've already reiterrated several of the points he's already made, hopefully things will go in a bit of a different direction now.)

So I gave it a whirl. Perhaps I was feeling rather bold this afternoon. Maybe my sense of adventure had finally caught up with me. Maybe... I should not do the same thing I just did in the post below. Anyway, I pull up to the barber shop and no one is in there. Well, actually the only person who was there was one lone, older barber sitting in the window. As I walked up I gave him a look of acknowledgment and he was preparing the chair before I even got in the door. So far so good. I also noticed that he didn't have any of those new-fangled, fancy-shmancy barber chairs. Oh no. These suckers must have dated back at least a few decades. Things still going well.

Indeed the entire experience went quite well. There was only one catch. Aside from the two of us, there was no one else in the place. Now for some people this wouldn't be that big of a deal. Personally, I prefer to have a little conversation, but ultimately not very much. My ideal barber shop situation, in addition to the aforementioned requirements, involves several people being there, carrying on about local sports teams and politics. Such was not the case here. If I were back home, it wouldn't have been too bad, at least I could have talked about what was going on locally. Kirksville is a bit of a different story, however. There are essentially two different cities in our small town consisting of the college and the 'townies.' In other words, I am fairly ignorant as to the goings on of the local community.

For the first few minutes then, there was awkward silence. Do I talk? What topic would I pick? Can I stand this silence? What is the proper barber shop etiquette for this situation? As it turns out, the proper etiquette is for the barber to introduce a topic of conversation. We talked about football.

Thankfully I was able to carry a conversation on for about 10 minutes or so about the recent NFL playoff games. Also thankfully, the haircut was fast. Indeed, that was the highlight of the situation. I was in and out of the place in 15 minutes flat. Compare that to one and a half or two hours at the other place, and I can live without the warm shaving cream and straight razor. I was so happy with the experience, I even tipped the guy, making the haircut a whopping $9. I have found a new barber.

Thought for the Day

When your girlfriend calls you and says, "Can you give me a few minutes before you come over, I'm trying on dresses," give her about an hour.

Well, as though things haven't been exciting enough around here, I think I'll add a few logs to the fire.

First of all, we're about to hit 2,000 visitors. This is especially exciting because it took about four months to reach the first thousand, and it's been less than two months since then. I doubt I can continue this exponential growth, but we'll see what happens. (Oh, and this also post number eleventy-one. And shortly I'll be hitting 70,000 words, in case you were wondering.)

Additionally, January 26th will be the official six-month mark. I imagine I'll post something contemplative and thought-provoking then, but in the interim, I'd like to go ahead and point out a few people that have been awesome along the way.

Most of my blogroll over there consists of blogs that I came across, and some I even managed to link back here through shameless whoring. There are those, however, that came across me and decided that I was cool enough to link to. I unfortunately cannot remember who came first (sorry guys), but here they are:

Gary of Terreus and Faz of Faz-in-a-box. So go on over and drive up their hit counts a bit, people. Oh, and if you're linking to this site, drop me a line and I'll make sure to get you BlogRolled as well.

Of course, I do have my 'mentor' blogs. Most notably Charlie of Where the Hell Was I and GeekMan of The Mighty Geek. Head on over there for some good times, and if you mention this advertisement, you'll receive a 10% discount off the entry fee! How awesome is that?

Answer: not very.

Stay tuned for the unveiling of the 2,000th visitor, and for a harrowing experience at the barber shop!

The blindness continues

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or, the ever-continuing quest for better vision correction

As I left you yesterday, I was wandering around with uncomfortable and relatively ineffective contacts in my eyes. Since it was approaching midnight on Saturday night, I decided to deal with what I had, enjoy the rest of The Family Guy, and worry about it in the morning.

Ok, again a fabrication. See, I like to be on top of situations (read: I'm a control freak), so putting aside this problem until tomorrow was somewhat difficult. Also, as if breaking my glasses wasn't enough, we were unable to watch the rest of the DVD. Not because I was having trouble seeing (I could always sit closer), rather the rental DVD was apparently scratched to high heaven, making episodes 4-7 unplayable. Darnit. The Double Whammy strikes again.

So Sunday rolls around. After church I decide to tackle this whole not being able to see situation. Of course, that required the aid of my beautiful and ever-helpful girlfriend because legally I shouldn't be allowed to drive. Before I could do anything, though, I needed to figure out what my options were.

First, the best case scenario, was that the frames could be repaired. That would solve the problem in a jiffy and certainly be the least expensive option.

Second, buy the exact frames again, or ones that were close enough that the lenses I had could be used again. Here again, trying to cut my losses to a minimum.

Third, buy an entirely new set of glasses. Obviously not a fantastic option, given the price, plus my choices would be limited by what I could have within a reasonable time frame.

Fourth, get some contacts. This option was never very seriously considered. I may have needed to get a new eye exam, plus I wasn't sure if I could adjust to wearing contacts within a few days, having not worn them for years. Not worth the risk. That is pretty much the last thing I need to worry about at a grad school audition.

The first step, then was to see if the darn things could even be fixed. My loving and adorable girlfriend drove me up to the local Wal-Mart (where we do all our vision shopping) to see what could be done. (Vision shopping, that's sound weird. Imagine instead of frames you had eyeballs of various colors and qualities lined against the walls. Ok, on second thought, don't imagine it. It's gross. Trust me.) I bring my demolished glasses to the lady behind the counter and the first words out of her mouth are, "I can't do anything about that." Ok, so technically she did say, "Can I help you?" first. If they were to be repaired I would have to have them soldered. Fair enough, then to evaluate option two, do you have these frames for purchasing? The answer again, no. See, these were Jordache frames and were purchased almost three years ago. Obviously no designer would carry the same style for more than, say, 10 minutes. Hmm... so far not so good. We were off then to see about a place to have the soldered together.

Unfortunately, this was Sunday in a small town, so only a handful of businesses were open anywhere. Plus, since today was a legal holiday here in the states, no businesses were going to be open until Tuesday. The fixing it option wasn't looking good, plus it would be only temporary at best, so it was time to seriously consider the second option.

I returned to my room and called the Wal-Mart back home to see if they carried the frames. Again, the answer was no. I was informed that Wal-Mart hadn't carried those frames for over a year, and that I should try and look for an internet business that might be able to order them. So I did.

I searched all around the internet and came across several sites offering "great deals" and "steep discounts" on designer frames. Of course, none of these companies would actually list all the models I could purchase, much less any prices. To get any info I'd need to email or call. Given that I wouldn't be able to call until Tuesday, I decided that email would probably be just as slow.

Hmm... time to buy some new glasses. We drove back up to Wal-Mart, and after much debate decided on some new frames. I clearly have difficultly branching out. There was one pair that was just a little bit too cool for be, but my sweet and kind girlfriend thought they looked great. Not being one to take a risk to the tune of $200, I decided to go with a pair that were remarkably similar to the ones I had destroyed. Even the person working there noticed the similarity. Oh well, so much for living on the edge, grabbing the bull by the horns, betting my bottom dollar, seizing the moment, carpe-ing my diem... you get the idea.

The only truly good news I got was the the lenses were in stock and I could have the glasses by the next day. Indeed, I'm wearing them as we speak. Or as I speak. Or type. Blog?

So that was my saga. Hopefully I'll be able to have the old one's soldered back together so that I can have a back-up for just such an emergency.

"Oh, but where was all the drama we craved?!" you ask. Well, um, what I forgot to mention is that I had to fight off a ravenous gnome using a spork and whoppie cushion. All with poor vision. Ha! How's that for drama?

Oh, still lame. Uh. I was involved in a high-speed car chase that caused extreme damage to 13 mailboxes, 6 cars, 2 street signs, 1 puppy, and ultimately the courthouse.

Well, in case that still doesn't cut it for you, I'm getting a haircut tomorrow, which will inevitably involve a profuse amount of excitement and drama. Stay tuned.

Same blog time, same blog channel.

(Cue cheesy local news exit music. Fade to black.)

Thought for the Day

Can you trace a path of hair from your head down to your toes? If so, would you be proud of that? Also, would you feel the need to tell everyone? Oh, and would you then give yourself the nickname, "The Connector?"

If so, that make two of you in the world.

(Don't worry, I'm not even close to that accomplishment. Maybe someday... one can only hope.)

Snap!

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Now if I could find a blind guy to lead me around the metaphor would be complete.

Good evening folks. I hope you all have had a pleasant weekend so far. Mine was actually going really well up until last night.

So many exciting things were going on. GarageBand arrived and produced many hours of entertainment. Graduate applications became a thing of the past. My favorite Merlot was on sale, and I finally rented the first season of The Family Guy. Life was Beautiful.

And then it happened. I'm not sure what caused it exactly. One second everything was fine, I was sitting on the couch, laughing hysterically with my girlfriend by my side, and then suddenly I couldn't see anymore. Everything became a blurry haze, all without warning.

My glasses had broken. Okay, the above situation is moderately fabricated. Obviously the frames did not snap merely by sitting on my face. (I'm not sure how that would be possible... unless maybe I was allergic to bee stings and was attacked by a swarm. Maybe then.) No, rather I was simply putting them on. Yup, that was it. Just putting them on my face. Like I've done every day for the past three years or so. I imagine, that after years of wear and tear the frames just couldn't take it anymore. I did learn something in that moment, though. Apparently there was a bit of tension in these frames, for the right lens flung itself outward as though tasting freedom for the first time in its feeble, but scratch-resistant existence.

At that moment everything stopped. I couldn't see anymore. To give you an idea of how nearsighted I am, extend your arm out and look at your wrist. That's about the point when things start getting blurry for me. (I'm sure it has nothing to do with the copious amount of time I spend bloggin... nah.) While I may not technically be blind (or even remotely close for that matter), it is still difficult to accomplish much of anything if you can see clearly for more than a few feet.

The downside to this (aside from the obvious) is that I wasn't really sure if I had any backup vision correction accessories. So I hauled my butt back to the dorm in the really cold weather to investigate. Again, normally this wouldn't be too big a deal, but remember, I can't see more than a few feet away, so searching for anything can be a little difficult. Heck, I've spent several minutes looking for my glasses, which I know that I have. How am I supposed to find something that I'm not sure even exists? Good question.

First, I knew that I didn't have a second pair of glasses. That would have been smart, and thus not fitting with my modus operandi. Therefore I had to search for contacts. Shouldn't be a problem, right? Well, to quote a commercial, "Not exactly." Since I made the switch to glasses, I hadn't gotten any contacts. "Who needs 'em?" I figured. Well, that was three years ago. So basically I was looking for contacts that I didn't ever use that would have had to gone with me on several different moves. I've lived in six different places since then, so by this point my hopes were dwindling.

But what was this? Were these contacts? In an unopened box? Could it be true? (Do these things have an expiration date?) No matter, I was saved! Now all I have to do is get these things on.

Problem. You see, when you haven't worn contacts for a few years, it is as though you have never worn them at all. And let me tell you, my eyes were none too happy about being poked and prodded. Oh, and by some weird coincidence I also had a contact case and plenty of lens solution. See, not throwing stuff away worked for once! Now what on earth am I going to do with this one random Jenga block.

(I'd like to pretend like I didn't actually have a solitary Jenga block lying around, but after a few seconds of searching it was easily the most random thing in my drawer. Um, moving on.)

Well, contacts may not be comfortable, but at least I can see now. Well, at least I thought I might be able to. You see, when I first put them in my eyes were watering so much that I couldn't really see well anyway. That eventually stopped, though, but things were not that improved. Improved from the crying, that is. It was still a vast improvement over my previous condition. Now everything is just kinda blurry. For those of you who know much about eye prescriptions, these contacts are about .75 diopters too weak. No matter, anything was an improvement. I still couldn't exactly drive, though.

Now there's the problem. My first grad school audition is Friday, and it's in Nebraska. That means I'm going to have to drive for several hours the night before. (It also means blogging may be sporadic on Thursday and Friday.) Can I get these glasses repaired? Can I just put these lenses in another frame? Will I make it to my grad school audition? What ever happened to Sally Struthers anyway?

You may just have to wait until tomorrow to find out. Bwa ha ha ha ha.

(See, interesting things on this magnitude do not occur that frequently. I figure I better spread it out a bit then. You know, cover up the bare spots?)

Thought for the Day

A friend of mine said this yesterday. "That way it wouldn't be bad if someone walks in on you accidentally naked." (Sorry, explaining the context would make it entirely unfunny.)

Now, of course she meant "That way it wouldn't be bad if someone accidentally walks..." but instead I was left to ponder how one could become "accidentally naked."

This I did not understand. My initial reaction was that alcohol was probably involved. (Liquid panty remover I heard it called once.) But even then, it is not necessarily accidental, just a really bad idea. So, that's your assignment. Figure out how you could find yourself accidentally naked.

(No no no no no. Put your pants back on. You're supposed to imagine a situation, not enact. Sheesh, didn't your mother teach you anything about manners?)

Wha happened?

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Ugh, I had this post rolling along quite nicely, when I decided to back it up. For a while now I have periodically copied and pasted drafts of my posts in a word processor to prevent the total loss of a post if something happened. Well, that's what I started to do here, but instead of hitting command+c to copy the highlighted text, I accidentally hit the space bar. Thus, the totality of this post (as it was then, anyway) was quickly deleted. Since it is actually a few hours later than this timestamp would imply, I'm going to go to bed and give it another whirl tomorrow. Sorry 'bout that.

The wait is finally over

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Well folks, my review has finally come in. I must say that my reviewer was most generous. My favorite quote from the review would have to be:

He has this, as I dub it, a Blogger's Humor. It's like a Oh-Life-is-so-Messed-Up-but-I'll-Use-That-For-My-Own-Good kind of humor... He makes use of uncanny but funny coincidences and incidences that happens in his life and turns them into entertaining posts which makes you crave for more. It also makes you think, "How can this be for real? Then again, how could one be so gifted with such dog-eats-world life?"

So on over there and have a read. You can also rate the blog yourself on a scale of 0-5 if you want to chip in your two cents. Anyway, I've got to be going. I'll have a real post up later today (assuming I can stop playing with GarageBand).

And now I have no life

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Well, as it turns out my iLife software arrived at my dorm, and thankfully not at some random person's house as I had originally addressed it. The problem is that GarageBand is entirely too much fun. I haven't really had much any free time thanks to that, so I figure I'd post a link to the first song my girlfriend and I created. Although, I don't have a title for it yet, so if you want to help me out that would be great.

The first song!

See you guys tomorrow.

Getting a life

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I ordered one, and it should be arriving tomorrow.

Ladies and gentlemen, despite my impending review I find it once again necessary to make the errors I commit in daily life known to the world. (Or at least the 15-20 people who visit this site every day.)

I recently ordered Apple's new iLife suite. (Yes, I know that the title of this post is really lame, but work with me folks, I haven't gotten much sleep lately.) I'm really excited about it's impending arrival, especially with the new GarageBand program. I'm assuming this is a less-awesome version of Soundtrack, which I got to play with on a recent visit to the Apple Store in St. Louis. (I wonder if there's some way to get Apple to pay me for all this advertising...)

There's a slight catch, though. I inadvertently gave them the wrong address to send it to. I first noticed the error when, while checking MacRumors I read that iLife had begun shipping. I then immediately checked my order status online and was disappointed to learn that mine was not going out with the first batch. Then I saw the typo. It was simply one digit of the street address, but after a brief internet search I discovered that the typo address actually existed.

No problem I said. I'll just call this little help line and get everything taken care of. I dial the toll-free number and am greeted with an automated response. Ok, nothing out of the ordinary there. After making my selection I am routed to yet another menu option. Fair enough. That automated menu, though, was followed by another, and still another. To be honest, I wasn't keeping track of how many I went through, but five or six is a modest guess. Ah, I finally made it through all the menus.

And was on hold.

For about 10 minutes.

On the plus side the cheesy background music was pretty good. (Dripping sarcasm.) Hey, at least it's a toll-free call, right? Well, thankfully I was at my computer, so I did some browsing. When I was finally greeted by a real life, genuine, grade A, FDA approved human being, I was reading BBC World News rather intently. It was quite a jolt when suddenly I heard, "Hi, could you give me your order number?"

Now I have to spit back to this anonymous lady a random 10 digit number after being jolted out of my reading. I needless to say, botched that pretty good. The true plus side of all this is that she was one of the friendliest strangers I have ever dealt with over the phone. After finally telling her the right number and confirming my billing address, we got down to the nitty-gritty.

"My order hasn't shipped yet, and I was wondering if it would be possible the change the shipping address."

"That shouldn't be a problem, what do you need changed?"

"The 209 should really be an 809."

"Ok, give me one second..." (Awkward silence where I'm not sure if she's doing anything or just waiting for the computer. Do I make small talk or just wait it out? I didn't know. It was like a bad first date.) "Oh no, I'm afraid I misspoke earlier. It turns out your package is getting ready to go out as we speak. Sorry about that. You should be receiving an email with the tracking number, so that you at least know where it's going."

"It shouldn't be too big of a deal. I'll get it figured out."

"Well, hopefully this will turn out ok. If there's anything else we can do for you, don't hesitate to give us a call. Sorry I couldn't get it straightened out for you."

"Thanks for your help."

"Bye."

In all honesty, I was not expecting to be treated with such dignity, especially since I was the moron that couldn't enter my own address properly. Well, I may go ahead and try to get in contact with whoever it is that lives at 209 and give them a heads up. Of course, how do you start that conversation?

"Hi, you don't know me, but I accidentally shipped a package to your address. Could you possibly hang on to it for me and give me a call when it gets in?"

Thought for the Day

I'm a classical pianist, who just recently purchased and Outkast CD, and who can't wait to create awesome techno songs with GarageBand. Did I mention that I also like bluegrass music?

Thor Testosticlese to the rescue!

Is it possible to have writer's block with a blog? Here I have a forum for writing about whatever the heck I want to, and I still get writer's block? What's the deal? I think it's all this pressure. I have two competitions that are about to get underway, plus I'm third in the queue for a Weblog Review, so I'm naturally under pressure to deliver something witty and amusing. I should be blogging about irony I come across ("I just can't seem to remember all the names Dory uses for Nemo") or bizarre occurrences (hearing a bad combination of 20th Century Art Music and British Rock) or even the life of a made-up deity.

Actually, that isn't a bad idea. I guess sometimes you've just got to get the proverbial juices flowing. In this case, straight on to your computer. (Careful, brain juice can stain. I'd recommend cleaning that up before we continue.)


Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Most of you know me as Thor Testosticlese, God of Thunder, but today I am just Thor. Oh sure, I still have my title (even if that Chico Dashing brat thinks he's better than me), but today I think I'll put away the thunder and plagues so that I can better express my feelings. At least that's what my shrink asked me to do, and at $75 an hour, you can better believe I'm going to try to do what he says. Money grubbing piece of...

Right, so I was talking about my feelings. Well you know what? It's lonely being the God of Thunder. Oh sure, I have some sweet supernatural powers, I'm immortal, and have this beautifully decorated living room (I think that light salmon paint compliments the decor splendidly... I mean, FEAR ME! <deafening sound of rolling thunder>) I don't get a lot of company, though. First of all, I haven't really been revered for thousands of years. Apparently everyone thinks that thunder is caused by the rapid expansion of air molecules from the intense heat of lightning. Puh-lease. Everyone up here knows that light does not have heat. Otherwise you'd be vaporized every time you turned on the light. Duh. Plus Chico Dashing, God of Lightning thinks he's better than me, so he's been propagating these lies. That's right, filthy, disgusting LIES!!

<Pause>

(Whispered)

1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10... I'm now in my happy place. I'm relaxing on the beech, the air is temperate, the sun warm against my body... Chico is getting eating by hundreds of sharks...

(Spoken)

Ok, I'm better now. I guess more than anything I'm just asking for a hug. That would... (holds back tears) mean so much to me.

(Enter Chico Dashing, God of Lightning. Chico is the essence of South American tall, dark, and handsome. He's holding a martini... that was stirred. He thinks James Bond was a pansy.)

I've got your hug right here.

Would you please just go away you arrogant little deity. Can't you see I'm sharing my feelings here? I swear if you tell Clarissa, Goddess of...

I'm sorry, did I interrupt your widdle sharing session? And who the heck you are calling little anyway? I stand over 9 feet tall, whereas you... let's just say I'd give Gary Colemen even odds against you.

You son of a motherless hamster!

How dare you!


Thought for the Day

And that's why thunder always accompanies lightning.

Note to self: Do not begin XHTML validation process without a copious amount of free time.

Golly folks, turns out I had a thing or two to learn about XHTML 1.0 Transitional. The good news is that with the help of this site I was able to decrease the number of errors on my sight from 150+ to 11. Those last 11 are kind of pesky, since they are all contained in blogger code that I have no control over, i.e. that stupid banner add.

The good news was that my brand-spanking new CSS code was flawless. At least by that site's standards.

Apparently IE 6 for WinXP has a different opinion. Here I've spent several hours tweaking the look of this site, even going so far as to use a CSS Editor. When I was over at my girlfriend's house, I checked my blog, as I often do during the day. I must have refreshed that page a dozen times and it seemed like I got something different each time. If this site looks really funky to you, please email me or leave a comment with a screenshot.

It's weird, the only problem I've had is with that browser with that operating system. Perhaps I'll just add the following to the top of this page - "This site is best viewed with any browser other than Internet Explorer."

In other news, I'm just a few days away from being reviewed over at The Weblog Review, hence the constant tweaking of the site as of late. Expect more sucking up in the next few days.

Finally, Blog Madness 2003 is still accepting submissions if you want to get in on the act. I hope to see you there.

Hit the ground running

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Or perhaps maybe just hit the ground, period.

Woah boy that was rough. Today was the first day of classes, and I must say that it was hands-down my busiest first day in my undergraduate career. First of all, I had to wake up early. Perhaps I should rephrase that. First of all, I had to wake up earlier. Instead of a comfortable 10:30 or 11:00 that I became accustomed to over break, I had to wake up at 8:30!!!. Oh the humanity! Still it wasn't quite what I've been used to. On top of that, I also am not used to the noise that is produced in my hallway. Apparently we have a 'quiet hours' exemption of which I was unaware. So what little sleep I did get was interrupted a few times. Which reminds me, as macho as all these guys act, someone was definitely blasting Cher last night. Hmmm...

(Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it!)

Another wonderful part about winter break was the sedentary lifestyle. I know that there was at least one day where I didn't even leave the house. Well, all that lounging around has caught up with me. We have a relatively small campus here, but after walking around it about 5 times or so with all my errands, I am quite tuckered out.

(Oh no! Somebody call the whaaaambulance!)

Oh, and the errands that I had to run. While I may have already sent off my graduate applications, there are still a few details to work out. Additionally, there are always administrative problems to be dealt with upon returning to campus. Oh, and please, someone tell me why I had to be in meetings for about 3 1/2 hrs today. Honestly, give me a freakin' day to get settled or something!

(Ok, that part did suck.)

The time is now 12:24, and that means I have class in 7 hrs and 36 minutes. That's not right. Not right at all, I tell you. So, I may end up cutting this little entry short.

Hey! You should be thanking me. That's right. I've had a hard day, after having no hard days for a whole month, and I'm still here, blogging for your pleasure. (Ok, so maybe the word choice of that last sentence leaves something to be desired. I mean... oh forget it.) Granted, instead of trying to illicit a laugh from my audience, I mostly whined about how tewwible my widdle day was. *sulk*

My bad.

On another note, I have added my senior recital to the My Piano Playing link up and over there on the right.

Thought for the Day

A question that was posed in a friend's ethic class -
"If you had to skin someone alive, or skin someone else alive, which would you pick and why?"

I hope that don't ask that during a grad school interview.

Sleeves are for pansies!

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Wait, how cold did you say it was going to be?

Well folks, I do believe that I am footballed out. For those of you who did not catch the Rams/Panthers game, you can probably go read a summary on CNN-SI. I personally have no doubt that I'll be watching the condensed version of that game on ESPN Classic here in a few years. A successful onside kick, two-point conversion, a game-winning field goal canceled because of a penalty, two missed field goals, a second overtime quarter, and then a 70 TD pass. It was glorious. I was just rooting for the wrong team. I thought it would be nice to have a chiefs vs. Rams Superbowl, but then no one on either coast would be tuning in.

Then there was the Patriot/Titans game. Here I am, sitting in the comfort of my climate-controlled house watching these men play football in sub-zero windchill. Sure, it wasn't quite the winter wonderland that the game against the Raiders was a few years back, but when you can see everyone's breath on TV, then you know it's cold. Now, I don't need to emphasize that these must be some of the most devoted fans in the league (I'm not trying to take anything away from Green Bay here), but I think I'd rather focus on another subject.

Sleeves.

Maybe this is a macho guy thing, kinda like playing freeze-out in the car with your buddies. You know, where you're driving around with the windows down and your shirts off, seeing who can stand it the longest. Oh sure, I imagine the game would have worked better if it wasn't late August, but then again I wasn't a very manly high-schooler.

I mean, what, that is, I'm still awesome!

But I digress. You see, these football players have the option of wearing what I would imagine are fairly insulative against the cold, but most of these guys don't wear them. Oh sure, there are the 400 lb gorillas on the line of scrimmage who could probably play naked (DO NOT think about that too much), but I'm talking about these skinny little wide receivers and cornerbacks. I mean, c'mon fellas. What are we trying to prove here?

Darn it, I should have never mentioned the naked linemen thing. Not only will the rating on this blog go up and carry some sort of warning about icky icky icky nudity, but everyone in the audience is now trying to gouge out their mind's eye.

Good luck folks.

So, I think that's pretty much all I had to say about that. Tomorrow I head back up to school to begin my final undergraduate semester. My last semester in the dorms. My last semester eating crap for food. Finally, my freedom is before me.

Then there's grad school.

Thought for the Day

All-nude linemen, bringing new definition to the XFL™.

A diamond in the rough

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Or maybe just a good buy at Wal-Mart

Howdy there folks. I've had a remarkably good day, and I attribute it all to Wal-Mart. (Do keep in mind that this blog is intended for humor and should not be considered serious... ever.)

For those of you on either coast who may have never heard of a Wal-Mart, or live in another country and are blissfully ignorant of this behemoth company, allow me to explain. (Although I do think that The Simple Life may have helped people out a bit.) Wal-Mart is the be all and end all of everything-under-one-roof shopping. As the largest retailer and employer (short of the federal government) in the US, you can buy most anything you could need or want. From groceries, to clothing, to electronics, to 'fine' jewelry, these people have it going on. Or something. I'm not sure, remember that I'm white.

One of the more recent features of the Wal-Mart is what I have termed the DVD bin. It is literally a large bin full of DVD's that look like they were organized by a toddler. That is, they were simply thrown in. People then gather around this bin of mystery to see if they can't find a good DVD amidst all the trash. Hey, for $5.50, most people will take a decent movie.

Anyway, there I was, searching around the bin of DVD's like a raccoon going through someone's trash. My brother was doing a one-hour photo dealy so I had time to kill. Then, beyond my wildest expectations I found a great DVD. The Samurai Jack movie. Oh heck yeah! Here this DVD has been on my Amazon.com wish list and there it was, lying idly amongst the trash. Oh, but the good times don't end there. Nosireebob.

I found a Jackie Chan movie. First Strike, to be exact. You know, back when Jackie Chan was doing movies that had to be dubbed and had the best action sequences money could buy. Or rather, the best action sequences that could be bought on a low budget. This isn't exactly the Matrix here folks. Then, I ended up finding two other old movies, Rumble in the Bronx, and Mr. Nice Guy. I was in hog heaven. My day could not get any better.

Until...

I decided to splurge a bit more and purchase the new Outkast double CD for only $11.98. What a day. My materialism satisfied until I saw another television commercial, I decided to leave electronics section as quickly as possible.

Ah, what a wonderful day.

Thought for the Day

"Lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor" apparently only works in the video. At least the red mark on my face will go away eventually.

I have just spent the last two days finalizing and sending out all my graduate school applications. All four of the freakin' things. I've also spent a few hundred dollars in the process, and with transcripts costing $5 a pop to send, I'm looking at another hundred really soon.

It is all such a hassle. For one school I ended up filling out three, yes, three applications. General App, Departmental App, and Assistantship App. Oh, and for these four school I was dealing with six different addresses. My mom made the comment, and I do believe that she may be on to something, that all this mess with send this to so and so but this other stuff to this other guy stuff and send your transcripts here but your letters of recommendation here is basically a weeding out process. That is to say that they make the application process quite difficult so that they can weed out the regular folks who are likely to screw something up. I mean I actually listed everything that went to every address before even putting addresses on envelopes. I also triple-checked the contents of said envelopes before sealing them.

The good news is that they are done, and I don't have to deal with them too much anymore. Oh but wait, the auditions (remember, I'm a piano guy) start in two weeks. So I also get to throw in approximately 2859.88 miles of travel during the start of the semester.

Ok, rant time over. It is time for happy thoughts.

Here's an assignment for you:

Work the phrase, "poor form" into your daily conversation as much as possible. And do use a British accent when doing so.

Thought for the Day

"I hate people. People make me pro-nuclear."
-Margaret Smith

First of all, you may be wondering how the ole King of the Blogs tourney went. Um, don't ask. I took dead last, which thankfully isn't as bad as... oh wait. I did in fact take dead last. I attribute this mostly to the fact that one of the judges was unable to find more than 12 posts over the last 6 months and consequently gave me a big, fatty zero. Whatever dude, I just hope you don't mind boils and plagues of gnats. (Thanks to Bad Money for his comment on my plight.)

In the spirit of shameless self-promotion, though, I am obligated to mention that which has already been mentioned on probably every blog you read. It is time again for the Fourth Annual Bloggies. This, the pinnacle of blog awards, is kind of a long shot for one so small, but I figure it's worth a go. If you feel so inclined, go ahead and nominate me in any of the categories that you find fitting. The most appropriate in my opinion would be the "Best-Kept-Secret" award. I would also, of course, ask you to vote for your favorites in the other categories as well, especially considering the fact that the rules seem to state that for a vote to count a total of at least three blogs must be nominated. That is, you can nominate a different blog for each of three categories or nominate three different blogs in the same category. Either way, make sure you nominate at least three blogs so that your vote will count. (If I'm totally off base, let me know.)

Oh, and one more. Another blog tournament is accepting nominations. This one is called BlogMadness 2003, and is an attempt to capture the spirit of March Madness with blogs. Head on over and submit an entry, and I'll see you there.

got brains?

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Hopefully that doesn't become a permanent heading.

Well folks, I must once again apologize for my absence. My little vacation turned out to be much busier than I anticipated. I didn't even have time to read my favorite blogs, much less post a decent entry. I'm here now, though, so let's get right down to business.

I think that I may have mentioned before that I have a bumper sticker on my car that reads "got brains?" I enjoy this bumper sticker immensely, but unfortunately, in times such as the following, it inevitably comes back to haunt me.

Allow me to set the stage:

The weather was bitterly cold. The temperature was about 7°, with a windchill of -8°. Roads were for the most part clear, but remnants of an ice storm were still quite prominent in areas that were not thoroughly salted/sanded/torched. The place was Kansas City International Airport, henceforth referred to as KCI. The time was mid-morning.

To fully understand the scene, though, you need to understand something about the set-up of KCI. KCI is unique in that there are three completely separate, circular terminals. Each airline has all of its gates in one particular terminal, so theoretically flight changes would not be too big a deal. In the center of the circle is a parking garage, the circle itself consisting of the road and terminal building, while the outside of course has the actual planes. Of course, it would be rather difficult if all the planes had to go to the inside of circle, now that I think of it. Here, this should help. I suppose sleep-deprivation can lead to both humorous writing and completely incoherent writing.

Or is that redundant?

Anyway, that is our scene.

I drop my girlfriend off in the building, and then, since there is free parking for half an hour, I go to park the car in the center garage. The entrance to the garage is actually the top floor, and I decided to go ahead and park there on the ice coated roof, because I'd just be running in an out.

I found a parking spot close to where I would find I dropped off my girlfriend. I questioned the sanity of parking on the ice up there, but figured I'd run with it anyway. I then had to do a few things before actually stepping out of the car. First, put on my coat and "all of my least favorite colors" scarf (I hate driving with my coat on). Then, I had to put the cell phone I was carrying in said coat. My brother sternly informed me that if I left the cell phone in the car he would kill me... slowly. Finally, I had to make sure I put the little parking lot ticket somewhere where I wouldn't forget it.

At this point I opened the door, locked the car, and closed the door as I always do.

Then it hit me.

Where were my keys?

I checked my hands, which would be the obvious place. I did the quick pocket pat-down to see if I had already transferred them. Then I checked the place I wanted to check least... the car. Yes, there they were, sitting comfortably in the ignition. I was locked out of my car, in absolutely freezing weather. I couldn't believe it. The last time I did that was right after I started driving, years ago. This is the reason I am very habitual about everything, including getting out of the car, so that I won't accidentally forget something important.

I decided to play it cool and hang out with my girlfriend until she got through security. Of course, by 'play it cool' I mean not worry about it too much. I still told my girlfriend, and she still made fun of me.

After she got through security I went back out to my car. I couldn't remember if I had a hide-a-key or not, so I decided to look. I felt underneath the car for a while, but since that produced no results, I thought it would be best to take a look myself. So there I am, lying on the ice, in sub-zero temperatures, looking for any means of entrance to my car. Frankly, with the ice coated parking lot, my main concern was not having my legs run over. That would have been a double whammy.

After a few minutes of fruitless searching, I relented and called home. Thankfully, we live about 20 minutes away front the airport, so a spare set was available in short order.

Unfortunately, I doubt my family or my girlfriend will ever let me live down my bummer sticker now.

Thought for the Day

"Everybody makes the wrong kind of New Year's Resolution. All they do is promise to stop bad habits and start good habits. It's not enough to change a few little habits! Everyone I know needs a complete personality overhaul! That's why I'll be telling people what I hate about them and how they should change."

-Calvin, of Calvin & Hobbes