The walls in my apartment are very thin. I used to have a problem with the neighbor on the side near my bedroom. He was a 30-something that stayed still 3am playing Mortal Kombat every night. He might also have listened to Backstreet Boys loudly. He lived alone; for some reason he didn't have a girlfriend. I was so happy when I saw that he moved out. Otherwise I doubt I would been able to sufficiently prepared for my microeconomics final.
My new problem is my other neighbors on the living room side of the apartment. They are sexually active and I know all about it - their headboard shares a wall with my living room couch. I used to think after hearing the banging that someone was assembling furniture. Then I heard "other" noises that clued me in.
They do it like clockwork; every Sunday night plus a few "surprises" for me during the week...but really on the Sunday night thing - I could set my watch to it. I sort of dread that time of the week now, because I can't escape the audio...the vibrations travel through the walls even if I go to the other room. There is no escape. I hear everything. My poor virgin ears.
I think it was this Thursday that I was having a pretty heated argument with a friend on the phone. In the middle of me yelling, I suddenly hear the neighbors starting to go at it. It was very unsettling. I wanted to bang on the wall, yelling "c'mon, people...you're ruining the mood in here!!!"
Shouldn't it be the other way around?
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
Daughters of The Bottle
until i was twenty-two
i didn't think anyone else
had a drunk for a mother
then i met lori joannie and susan
i recognized them immediately
by their stay away smiles
they were leaders in their work
competent imposters
like me
who would say they were sorry
if somebody bumped into them
on a crowded street
i call on them
once in a while
they always come
children of alcoholics
always do
--Jane, adult child
taken from It Will Never Happen To Me (Black, Claudia; 1981).
i didn't think anyone else
had a drunk for a mother
then i met lori joannie and susan
i recognized them immediately
by their stay away smiles
they were leaders in their work
competent imposters
like me
who would say they were sorry
if somebody bumped into them
on a crowded street
i call on them
once in a while
they always come
children of alcoholics
always do
--Jane, adult child
taken from It Will Never Happen To Me (Black, Claudia; 1981).
Thursday, June 28, 2007
E.T. and me
Tonight I'm going to Screen on the Green at Piedmont Park; the movie showing is E.T., made back in Spielberg's hey-day (he hasn't made a good film since Jurassic Park) with a very young Drew Barrymore. It really is a good movie; an American classic. When E.T. and Elliot fly across the moon, I'm not sure if I'll be able to control my emotion.
In my backpack: blanket to lay on (check), mosquito repellent (check), Reese's Pieces to eat at the exact same time that E.T. does (check!!!).
So was E.T. like, Jesus? Remember the sermon of the good Reverend Lovejoy:
But there's something to this. He was persecuted, did sort of die, but then came back to life. Elliot's family had a single mother named "Mary". He "resurrected" that flower (one of my favorite parts!). Um, and there's that scene where E.T. gets into drag....um, I haven't read the Good Book that closely, but maybe there's something similar in there somewhere....
So, as I close, in the words of E.T.: "Be good."
In my backpack: blanket to lay on (check), mosquito repellent (check), Reese's Pieces to eat at the exact same time that E.T. does (check!!!).
So was E.T. like, Jesus? Remember the sermon of the good Reverend Lovejoy:
"I remember another gentle visitor from the heavens, he came in peace and then died, only to come back to life, and his name was E.T., the extra terrestrial. I loved that little guy."
But there's something to this. He was persecuted, did sort of die, but then came back to life. Elliot's family had a single mother named "Mary". He "resurrected" that flower (one of my favorite parts!). Um, and there's that scene where E.T. gets into drag....um, I haven't read the Good Book that closely, but maybe there's something similar in there somewhere....
So, as I close, in the words of E.T.: "Be good."
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
A Conversation Piece
Today I wore my Semester at Sea t-shirt. It's quite the conversation piece; not only does it motivate people to ask me about the places we'd docked in listed on the back (Athens, Cadiz, Oslo, St. Petersburg, Antwerp, Casablanca, Naples, Alexandria, and Istanbul), and then let me talk about the other places in the countries that I'd gone to visit, but countless times a person has seen the big "Semester at Sea" on the street, or in line at the Smithsonian, or in line (today) at the MARTA card purchase office and also in an excited voice told me they'd also done SAS. The girl I met today had also done a summer voyage. I saw in her eyes the remembrance of a shared experience that you couldn't understand unless you had gone through it. I guess having done Semester at Sea, you are in a special fraternity for life.
I remember the first day I ever wore the shirt. I went on a field excursion to an orphanage in Alexandria, Egypt. There was a little girl there with whom I was sat down for a while with and played building blocks. I would building something, then she would knock it down and giggle. I later put headphones on her and played the soundtrack of The Little Mermaid for her. Even though she couldn't of understood the words, she put on the purest smile I've ever seen on a child; everyone was taking pictures of her and her happiness. The memory of that morning even now is bringing a smile to my face. This was in 2001; the girl is probably a teenager at this point in time. I think about her now and hope that she's happy. I think about her now and I miss her.
By the way, what was I doing with The Little Mermaid? Yah, that's what this good-looking girl asked me with a raised eyebrow. I sort of started explaining something but then let my voice trail off....and then walked away...
I remember the first day I ever wore the shirt. I went on a field excursion to an orphanage in Alexandria, Egypt. There was a little girl there with whom I was sat down for a while with and played building blocks. I would building something, then she would knock it down and giggle. I later put headphones on her and played the soundtrack of The Little Mermaid for her. Even though she couldn't of understood the words, she put on the purest smile I've ever seen on a child; everyone was taking pictures of her and her happiness. The memory of that morning even now is bringing a smile to my face. This was in 2001; the girl is probably a teenager at this point in time. I think about her now and hope that she's happy. I think about her now and I miss her.
By the way, what was I doing with The Little Mermaid? Yah, that's what this good-looking girl asked me with a raised eyebrow. I sort of started explaining something but then let my voice trail off....and then walked away...
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Canon in T
I saw a clip of this kid rocking it so hard on youtube recently, and I just had to post it:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=QjA5faZF1A8
Just in case the link ever stops working, search for "Canon Rock" (the version by funtwo). Yah, 22 million people have viewed this video, soon to be at 23 million. How did I ever not know about this? I guess I was too busy watching "The Evolution of Dance".
I love the chord progression of Johann Pachabel's Canon in D:
D A Bm F#m G D G A
I used to sit and improvise over it when I would play my keyboard at home. I love the song in general...it reminds me of summers as an altar boy doing weddings for tips.
"Johann Pachabel was the first one-hit wonder." Crap. That was an original witty idea I've been saying for the last ten years. Mozart and Beethoven are famous for numerous songs, but the name Pachabel is literally synonymous with Canon in D. Before I saw down to write this post I wanted to do some research on Pachabel, so I looked into his entry on Wikipedia (it was lazy research)....yah, literally on the second paragraph it says that some bastard named Rob Paravonian also is famously known for saying the Pachabel was the original one-hit wonder. Also there's a youtube video of his Pachabel routine. I'm not posting that one, because I don't want to promote it anymore. When I first saw this, I was worried that the guy had said it in the 60's or something, but it looks pretty modern...at least in my heart I knew I said the line first. But I don't have a youtube video; I doubt my friends will believe me.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=QjA5faZF1A8
Just in case the link ever stops working, search for "Canon Rock" (the version by funtwo). Yah, 22 million people have viewed this video, soon to be at 23 million. How did I ever not know about this? I guess I was too busy watching "The Evolution of Dance".
I love the chord progression of Johann Pachabel's Canon in D:
D A Bm F#m G D G A
I used to sit and improvise over it when I would play my keyboard at home. I love the song in general...it reminds me of summers as an altar boy doing weddings for tips.
"Johann Pachabel was the first one-hit wonder." Crap. That was an original witty idea I've been saying for the last ten years. Mozart and Beethoven are famous for numerous songs, but the name Pachabel is literally synonymous with Canon in D. Before I saw down to write this post I wanted to do some research on Pachabel, so I looked into his entry on Wikipedia (it was lazy research)....yah, literally on the second paragraph it says that some bastard named Rob Paravonian also is famously known for saying the Pachabel was the original one-hit wonder. Also there's a youtube video of his Pachabel routine. I'm not posting that one, because I don't want to promote it anymore. When I first saw this, I was worried that the guy had said it in the 60's or something, but it looks pretty modern...at least in my heart I knew I said the line first. But I don't have a youtube video; I doubt my friends will believe me.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Pissed Off
On my way to or from the MARTA (subway) station, I pass a church that frequently smells strongly of urine. The courtyard on a level just lower than the street is usually occupied by the homeless at night, and I always assumed the bedroom included a bathroom, if you know what I mean. Yet, the odor was so strong although so courtyard was somewhat set apart,
On a recent afternoon, I chanced to glimpse a homeless man peeing in the doorway which was essentially a foot off the sidewalk. The church is on North Avenue, a fairly busy street and it was broad daylight. The gentlemen was not taking pains to be discreet.
I really wanted to run over and stop him. It was really sacrilegious. But what would I have said? I'd also risk him whisking around around on me, unable or unwilling to stop, a stream of #1 soaking my legs. Anyway, it wasn't a Catholic church he was peeing on, so I didn't care too much.
OK, just kidding, that's not true.
This episode at least explained why the smell was so strong. It's odd, as I watched the man leaking processed booze onto the sidewalk, I thought of a dog marking his territory. Perhaps repressed instincts; scent-marking at its most raw and primitive. Could there be some truth in this? Maybe better to leave it at face value, as the Atlanta Tourist Loop bus patrons saw him: a homeless guy peeing on a church.
On a recent afternoon, I chanced to glimpse a homeless man peeing in the doorway which was essentially a foot off the sidewalk. The church is on North Avenue, a fairly busy street and it was broad daylight. The gentlemen was not taking pains to be discreet.
I really wanted to run over and stop him. It was really sacrilegious. But what would I have said? I'd also risk him whisking around around on me, unable or unwilling to stop, a stream of #1 soaking my legs. Anyway, it wasn't a Catholic church he was peeing on, so I didn't care too much.
OK, just kidding, that's not true.
This episode at least explained why the smell was so strong. It's odd, as I watched the man leaking processed booze onto the sidewalk, I thought of a dog marking his territory. Perhaps repressed instincts; scent-marking at its most raw and primitive. Could there be some truth in this? Maybe better to leave it at face value, as the Atlanta Tourist Loop bus patrons saw him: a homeless guy peeing on a church.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Date Night: Round II
I somehow managed to fool the girl from Thursday's date, she wants to actually see me again - tonight. So, we're going to have round two. OK, I at least haven't screwed it up yet, and so far I'm thinking this is something I might not want to screw up. It's funny; I walked away thinking I had blown it ("she's just not that into me"), but fortunately I was just reading the vibes wrong, she called me later and basically let me know I'm still in the game.
I think the plan tonight is to see a movie. Now, I hate going to the movies on dates when you're actually trying to first meet the person. Sitting alone in the dark silently looking at the screen is not conducive to learning more about somebody. Also, we're going to see "Knocked Up", which I hear is good and really funny but a but raunchy...it may be awwwwwwkward!
I'll probably blow $20 tonight, with dinner and the tickets. This is with $15 on Thursday. OK, ok...gotta get out the first few times. What I would want more than anything is to just cook us dinner and chill at home. Cheap, and big on talking. It's the ideal night...except if you invite someone you just met over to your place you sorta come across as sleazy. But I'm in that mindset, too - if a girl accepted my offer to come over, I'd sorta think she was sleazy.
I think the plan tonight is to see a movie. Now, I hate going to the movies on dates when you're actually trying to first meet the person. Sitting alone in the dark silently looking at the screen is not conducive to learning more about somebody. Also, we're going to see "Knocked Up", which I hear is good and really funny but a but raunchy...it may be awwwwwwkward!
I'll probably blow $20 tonight, with dinner and the tickets. This is with $15 on Thursday. OK, ok...gotta get out the first few times. What I would want more than anything is to just cook us dinner and chill at home. Cheap, and big on talking. It's the ideal night...except if you invite someone you just met over to your place you sorta come across as sleazy. But I'm in that mindset, too - if a girl accepted my offer to come over, I'd sorta think she was sleazy.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Pot O' Luck
About to head out to a pot-luck. This is my third in the last year, and I've sort of settled into making desserts. I'm making the same cookies (ginger-sugar-snap) I did a year ago. One other time I made carrot cake, and that was a mistake...all the frosting melted...and I had made it so pretty! The whole point of bringing a dessert is that I can make something that isn't refrigeration dependent (but I got a little cocky last time). When I previously made these cookies, I brought two batches and I think only about five cookies got eaten (everyone filled up on dinner...save some room, people!). So, this time I am only bringing one batch, if I am able to continue to suppress every Italian instinct in me to overkill on the amount of food I bring...I need to hurry up and put the extra I made away before I pack it up for the trip...
I wonder, where does the name pot luck come from? I suppose I could research this right now but instead I'll just speculate on it....um...ok, the "pot" is easy; it's from everyone putting something into the group effort ...but the "luck"? Is it from the "luck" you hope you have that someone will bring something edible?
On a related note, I'm sort of ticked only a few people from my program are coming. We are only going to be 8+, including guests and hosts (and the '+' is because I don't know how many kids the host has). I know those nerds don't have anything better to do on a Saturday night. I know you can't make people be friends, or want to come out, but I do wish there was more camaraderie in my program. I understand that everyone has their own lives, but just every once in a while it would be really nice if everyone could get together for an enjoyable occasion totally unrelated to economics.
Sigh. On the upside, more food for me...
I wonder, where does the name pot luck come from? I suppose I could research this right now but instead I'll just speculate on it....um...ok, the "pot" is easy; it's from everyone putting something into the group effort ...but the "luck"? Is it from the "luck" you hope you have that someone will bring something edible?
On a related note, I'm sort of ticked only a few people from my program are coming. We are only going to be 8+, including guests and hosts (and the '+' is because I don't know how many kids the host has). I know those nerds don't have anything better to do on a Saturday night. I know you can't make people be friends, or want to come out, but I do wish there was more camaraderie in my program. I understand that everyone has their own lives, but just every once in a while it would be really nice if everyone could get together for an enjoyable occasion totally unrelated to economics.
Sigh. On the upside, more food for me...
Friday, June 22, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Not Dressed Up, With Someplace to Go
So, I have something of a blind date tonight. Well, sorta blind. Partially blind. A "poor vision" date. It's a first date, let's just say that.
Probably only on morbid curiosity on her part have I not already scared her away. Talking on the phone earlier this week to decide where to go, I suddenly got this dreading feeling I'd be underdressed and would be spending an awkward evening in a state of pitiful self-consciousness. This scenario happens quite frequently, actually.
Thus, I began an embarrassingly unsubtle push to go someplace casual to eat, because #1 I'm as always broke, #2 she made it sound as though she's been through a string of guys lasting 1-3 dates maximum and so I see little need to make a large investment in this girl (again, see #1), #3 a casual setting would make for a more comfortable environment to just talk and get to know someone, which would be the point of tonight, and #4, especially, I am really trying to force her to dress down to "in the vicinity" of the level I will be. It's summer and I consider khaki shorts part of my Sunday's Best. She asked "will you be wearing tennis shoes?" and I wanted to say "that's all I have!!!"
I'm in this catch-22 where I have no nice clothes so I don't go out...and because I don't go out, I feel I have little need to acquire nice clothes.
Well, I do have *nice* clothes, though...the problem is they're too nice...what I'm really lacking is "casual nice", something between the jacket-and-tie look and my standard mesh shorts uniform. I keep thinking I should get to the mall to go shopping for the next night on the town, but I have little motivation to do so, because after tonight, I don't have any plans for a time when I would need them...
Probably only on morbid curiosity on her part have I not already scared her away. Talking on the phone earlier this week to decide where to go, I suddenly got this dreading feeling I'd be underdressed and would be spending an awkward evening in a state of pitiful self-consciousness. This scenario happens quite frequently, actually.
Thus, I began an embarrassingly unsubtle push to go someplace casual to eat, because #1 I'm as always broke, #2 she made it sound as though she's been through a string of guys lasting 1-3 dates maximum and so I see little need to make a large investment in this girl (again, see #1), #3 a casual setting would make for a more comfortable environment to just talk and get to know someone, which would be the point of tonight, and #4, especially, I am really trying to force her to dress down to "in the vicinity" of the level I will be. It's summer and I consider khaki shorts part of my Sunday's Best. She asked "will you be wearing tennis shoes?" and I wanted to say "that's all I have!!!"
I'm in this catch-22 where I have no nice clothes so I don't go out...and because I don't go out, I feel I have little need to acquire nice clothes.
Well, I do have *nice* clothes, though...the problem is they're too nice...what I'm really lacking is "casual nice", something between the jacket-and-tie look and my standard mesh shorts uniform. I keep thinking I should get to the mall to go shopping for the next night on the town, but I have little motivation to do so, because after tonight, I don't have any plans for a time when I would need them...
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Sesame Seeds
I'll be leaving sesame seeds out of my mother's pizza burger loaf recipe....I can't think of any use I'd have for them, and what amounts to garnish is not worth the $2.39 at a time when I am so broke.
Still, are the seeds just garnish? A "garnish", to me, is optional by definition...would you call it a hamburger bun if it didn't have the seeds on it? Or would it just be bread?
What is a sesame, anyway? A plant that just grows more sesame seeds? In the way that philosophy students can only become philosophy professors to teach more philosophy students?
Still, are the seeds just garnish? A "garnish", to me, is optional by definition...would you call it a hamburger bun if it didn't have the seeds on it? Or would it just be bread?
What is a sesame, anyway? A plant that just grows more sesame seeds? In the way that philosophy students can only become philosophy professors to teach more philosophy students?
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Edmund/Shakespeare & Watterson on Astrology
From King Lear, Act 1, Scene II:
Yesterday I listened to a conversation from the BBC's In Our Time regarding astrology. It was never definitely resolved between the moderator and discussants to what degree astrology still commands influence today. I agree that doctors no longer consult the positions of the planets prior to making prescriptions, but I would what the economic value of horoscopes on a daily basis merely in terms of daily paper space forgone.
My all-time favorite line about such matters is from Calvin and Hobbes, where Bill Watterson sarcastically speaks through Calvin:
This is the excellent foppery of the world, that,
when we are sick in fortune, - often the surfeit
of our own behaviour, - we make guilty of
our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as
if we were villains by necessity; fools by
heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and
treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards,
liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of
planetary influence; and all that we are evil in,
by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion
of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish
disposition to the charge of a star!
Yesterday I listened to a conversation from the BBC's In Our Time regarding astrology. It was never definitely resolved between the moderator and discussants to what degree astrology still commands influence today. I agree that doctors no longer consult the positions of the planets prior to making prescriptions, but I would what the economic value of horoscopes on a daily basis merely in terms of daily paper space forgone.
My all-time favorite line about such matters is from Calvin and Hobbes, where Bill Watterson sarcastically speaks through Calvin:
"I decided I believe in astrology and horoscopes...It only makes sense that every facet of our daily lives should depend upon the position of celestial bodies hundreds of millions of miles away."
Monday, June 18, 2007
Victor's European Trip
"Took a charter flight on a DC-10 to London. Landed at Heathrow. Took a cab to the city center. Don't let people lie to you: hostels are for the ugly. I'm staying in Home House, the most beautiful hotel in the world. Called a friend from school who was selling hash, but she wasn't in. Met a couple of Brits who take me to, of all places, Camden Street. I flirt a bit at the Virgin Megastore, buy some CDs, then follow some girls with pink hair. I wandered around trying to get laid, until it started to rain, then went back to Home House. Ministry of Sound is dead, so I go to Remform - but it's Gay Night. I find the one hetero girl in the place and we dry hump on the dance floor. We cab it back to Home House. I strip her clothes off, suck her toes, and we fuck. I hung out for four or five days. Met the world's biggest DJ, Paul Oakenfold. Kept missing the Changing of the Guards. Wrote my mom a postcard I never sent. Bought some speed from an Italian junkie who was trying to sell me a stolen bike. Smoked a lot of hash that had too much tobacco in it. Saw the Tate. Saw Big Ben. Ate a lot of weird English food. It rained a lot, it was expensive, and I'm jonesing."
"So, I split for Amsterdam. The Dutch all know English, so I didn't have to speak any Dutch - which was a relief. I cruise the Red Light District. Visit a sex show. Visit a sex museum. Smoke a lot of hash. I meet a Dutch TV actress and we drink absinthe at a bar called Absinthe. The museums were cool, I guess. Lots of Van Goghs and the Vermeers were intense. Wandered around. Bought a lot of pastries. Ate some intense waffles. We bought some coke and I cruised the Red Light District, until I found some blonde with big tits that reminds me of Lara. I gave her a hundred guilders. In the end, she pulls me out, and I cum between her tits, even though I'm wearing a rubber. Afterward we made small-talk about AIDS, her Moroccan pimp, and herself. I wake to the sound of a wino singing. It's 8 AM and hot as blazes. I pretend to ice-skate around Central Station, while someone plays the sax. Trade songs with a Kiwi girl."
"Then split for Paris by train. Wander the Champs-Elysees. Climb the Eiffel Tower for only seven francs, because the ticket machine was broken. Got the hang of the Metro, took it everywhere. Went to a Ford model party and hooked up with a Romanian model named Karina. She chugs my cock at the Mariott Champs-Elysees, which is good. We played billiards, went shopping. I think she gave me mono. Drove a Ferrari that belonged to a member of the Saudi royal family. Made out with a Dutch model in front of the Louvre. Saw the Arc de Triomphe and almost became road-kill crossing the street."
"'Oakie' invites me to Dublin, so I catch an Aer Lingus flight and stay at the Morrison. Dublin rocks like you can't imagine. Oakenfold lets me spin some discs with him. Irish girls are as small as leprechauns. I swap hickeys with a drunk woman. After groping my abs and calling me 'Mr. L.A.', she strips for me in the bath room of the club. Sneak into the Guinness factory and steal some stout so good my dick goes hard."
"I fly to Barcelona, which was a low-rent bust. Too many fat American students. Too many lame meat markets. I dropped acid at the Sagrada Familia, which was a trip to say the least. Cruise up the coast to the Museo Gala Dali, but had no more acid, which sucked. Some girl from Camden calls me on my cell, so I let her listen to the church bells in Cadaques. Canta Cruz is beautiful, but there are no girls here, just old hippies."
"So, I went to Switzerland where I, ironically, couldn't find anyone who had the time. Took the Glacier Express up the Schilthorn, which is beautiful in a way I can't describe.Euro Pass into Italy and ended up in Venice, where I met a hot girl who looks like Rachael Leigh Cook and speaks better English than I do. She's living for a year on only five dollars a day. We gondola around, buy some masks. She think's I'm a capitalist, because my hotel room costs more for one night than she's spending her entire trip. But she doesn't mind it so much when I pay the bills.
I ditch her and hook up with a couple who obviously want a 3-some. Too much tension there, but the doofus offers to drive me to Rome, an offer I jump at. Traffic is bad and we're stopped for hours without moving. The wife turns out to be a freak. The guy starts to wig out on me. It's like a Polanski film."
"We stop for a while in Florence, where I see some big dome. A bomb goes off and I lose the weird couple, which is probably for the best."
"Ended up in Rome, which is big and hot and dirty. It was just like L.A., but with ruins. I went to the Vatican, which was ridiculously opulent. Stood for two hours to get into the Sistine Chapel, which - now that it's been cleaned - looks fake. I meet two under-age Italian girls who I try to talk into fucking each other while I jack off onto them. Bored, I buy them some ice cream instead. My hotel has a gym, so I work out. I bump into some guy from Camden who says he knows me, but I'm sure that he's a fag, so I lose him. I try to fart and instead shit my pants. Back in my hotel room, I masturbate and have a pain in my groin. That night, I dream about a beautiful girl, half in water, stretching her lean body. She asks me if I like it and I tell her she can clean fish with it. I don't know what it means, but I wake well-rested, masturbate in the shower, and check out."
"I make my way back to London and hang out in Piccadilly Circus. Hmm. Palakon. I swap shirts with some upper-crusty Cambridge chick. Hers was an Agnes B., mine a Costume Nationale. She acts stuffy and prudish, but is really wild underneath it all. She barely looks at my abs, though she wants to. The next day, I drop some acid and get lost in the subway for a full day and can't find my way out. I meet a cute girl who lets me jack off onto her as long as no cum gets onto her Paul Smith coat. We get stoned while listening to Michael Jackson records and the next morning I wake up talking to myself. I have a big bump on my head from flailing in my sleep. I get my stuff and barely make my plane back to the United States."
"I no longer know who I am and I feel like the ghost of a total stranger..."
"So, I split for Amsterdam. The Dutch all know English, so I didn't have to speak any Dutch - which was a relief. I cruise the Red Light District. Visit a sex show. Visit a sex museum. Smoke a lot of hash. I meet a Dutch TV actress and we drink absinthe at a bar called Absinthe. The museums were cool, I guess. Lots of Van Goghs and the Vermeers were intense. Wandered around. Bought a lot of pastries. Ate some intense waffles. We bought some coke and I cruised the Red Light District, until I found some blonde with big tits that reminds me of Lara. I gave her a hundred guilders. In the end, she pulls me out, and I cum between her tits, even though I'm wearing a rubber. Afterward we made small-talk about AIDS, her Moroccan pimp, and herself. I wake to the sound of a wino singing. It's 8 AM and hot as blazes. I pretend to ice-skate around Central Station, while someone plays the sax. Trade songs with a Kiwi girl."
"Then split for Paris by train. Wander the Champs-Elysees. Climb the Eiffel Tower for only seven francs, because the ticket machine was broken. Got the hang of the Metro, took it everywhere. Went to a Ford model party and hooked up with a Romanian model named Karina. She chugs my cock at the Mariott Champs-Elysees, which is good. We played billiards, went shopping. I think she gave me mono. Drove a Ferrari that belonged to a member of the Saudi royal family. Made out with a Dutch model in front of the Louvre. Saw the Arc de Triomphe and almost became road-kill crossing the street."
"'Oakie' invites me to Dublin, so I catch an Aer Lingus flight and stay at the Morrison. Dublin rocks like you can't imagine. Oakenfold lets me spin some discs with him. Irish girls are as small as leprechauns. I swap hickeys with a drunk woman. After groping my abs and calling me 'Mr. L.A.', she strips for me in the bath room of the club. Sneak into the Guinness factory and steal some stout so good my dick goes hard."
"I fly to Barcelona, which was a low-rent bust. Too many fat American students. Too many lame meat markets. I dropped acid at the Sagrada Familia, which was a trip to say the least. Cruise up the coast to the Museo Gala Dali, but had no more acid, which sucked. Some girl from Camden calls me on my cell, so I let her listen to the church bells in Cadaques. Canta Cruz is beautiful, but there are no girls here, just old hippies."
"So, I went to Switzerland where I, ironically, couldn't find anyone who had the time. Took the Glacier Express up the Schilthorn, which is beautiful in a way I can't describe.Euro Pass into Italy and ended up in Venice, where I met a hot girl who looks like Rachael Leigh Cook and speaks better English than I do. She's living for a year on only five dollars a day. We gondola around, buy some masks. She think's I'm a capitalist, because my hotel room costs more for one night than she's spending her entire trip. But she doesn't mind it so much when I pay the bills.
I ditch her and hook up with a couple who obviously want a 3-some. Too much tension there, but the doofus offers to drive me to Rome, an offer I jump at. Traffic is bad and we're stopped for hours without moving. The wife turns out to be a freak. The guy starts to wig out on me. It's like a Polanski film."
"We stop for a while in Florence, where I see some big dome. A bomb goes off and I lose the weird couple, which is probably for the best."
"Ended up in Rome, which is big and hot and dirty. It was just like L.A., but with ruins. I went to the Vatican, which was ridiculously opulent. Stood for two hours to get into the Sistine Chapel, which - now that it's been cleaned - looks fake. I meet two under-age Italian girls who I try to talk into fucking each other while I jack off onto them. Bored, I buy them some ice cream instead. My hotel has a gym, so I work out. I bump into some guy from Camden who says he knows me, but I'm sure that he's a fag, so I lose him. I try to fart and instead shit my pants. Back in my hotel room, I masturbate and have a pain in my groin. That night, I dream about a beautiful girl, half in water, stretching her lean body. She asks me if I like it and I tell her she can clean fish with it. I don't know what it means, but I wake well-rested, masturbate in the shower, and check out."
"I make my way back to London and hang out in Piccadilly Circus. Hmm. Palakon. I swap shirts with some upper-crusty Cambridge chick. Hers was an Agnes B., mine a Costume Nationale. She acts stuffy and prudish, but is really wild underneath it all. She barely looks at my abs, though she wants to. The next day, I drop some acid and get lost in the subway for a full day and can't find my way out. I meet a cute girl who lets me jack off onto her as long as no cum gets onto her Paul Smith coat. We get stoned while listening to Michael Jackson records and the next morning I wake up talking to myself. I have a big bump on my head from flailing in my sleep. I get my stuff and barely make my plane back to the United States."
"I no longer know who I am and I feel like the ghost of a total stranger..."
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Hotel Rwanda
Last night I watched "Hotel Rwanda", which I had sent for through Netflix. It was about one man's efforts to save something like 1200 in a hotel during the Rwandan Genocide. I've heard it gained popularity actually directly through Netflix, where it's usually at the head of the "Top 100" list. So, with such buzz, it ended up being the third movie I received through Netflix.
Anyway, the movie itself...um...I didn't think it was that good...
And I sort of feel bad saying it. It's one of those movies, like "Schindler's List", where if you don't think it's good, it sort of makes you a bad person. I went online this morning to rate the movie and when giving it a low rating I was worried someone might somehow find out one day.
I still stand by my rating. Nick Nolte is like the worst actor and ruined the movie. There were some other low points...I think what was supposed to be moving in some places came off as dull.
I'm glad it gained such popularity though, because with so many people watching the movie, the story of the genocide will get out to a wider audience, many of whom I'm sure had no idea what happened (what did happened, by the way, is that a million people were killed simply with machetes in the fastest rate of genocide in history). Even if I didn't like the movie, if my request of the video helps it to stay high on the list so that others then view the movie and learn the history, I would be happy with that.
Anyway, the movie itself...um...I didn't think it was that good...
And I sort of feel bad saying it. It's one of those movies, like "Schindler's List", where if you don't think it's good, it sort of makes you a bad person. I went online this morning to rate the movie and when giving it a low rating I was worried someone might somehow find out one day.
I still stand by my rating. Nick Nolte is like the worst actor and ruined the movie. There were some other low points...I think what was supposed to be moving in some places came off as dull.
I'm glad it gained such popularity though, because with so many people watching the movie, the story of the genocide will get out to a wider audience, many of whom I'm sure had no idea what happened (what did happened, by the way, is that a million people were killed simply with machetes in the fastest rate of genocide in history). Even if I didn't like the movie, if my request of the video helps it to stay high on the list so that others then view the movie and learn the history, I would be happy with that.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Afraid of Success
I think I've begun to notice a pattern where I'll work hard just to have an opportunity for something (get a job offer, meet a new person) then back down right when I've secured that thing and need only take the next step to secure that job or becomes friends. Why am I afraid of getting what I once desperately wanted? Marianne Williamson writes about fear of success:
This may be more to the case of not wanting to intimidate your peers...sometimes, I won't give an answer in class or group study because I don't want to seem a "know it all". But with regards to other goals when I really could achieve them, why would I rather sit quietly in my room? I think there might be a connection. Maybe it's time to start exploring why I'm seemingly accepting a life of sub-happiness by choosing to stop before my goals. I think I may have to self-reflect on this. My one thought now is that it may be we as people get comfortable in our cycles, even if there are higher objectives that we'd like to reach. When I stop before the finish line...maybe I'm just afraid of a change in the routine?
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness,that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually who are we not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
This may be more to the case of not wanting to intimidate your peers...sometimes, I won't give an answer in class or group study because I don't want to seem a "know it all". But with regards to other goals when I really could achieve them, why would I rather sit quietly in my room? I think there might be a connection. Maybe it's time to start exploring why I'm seemingly accepting a life of sub-happiness by choosing to stop before my goals. I think I may have to self-reflect on this. My one thought now is that it may be we as people get comfortable in our cycles, even if there are higher objectives that we'd like to reach. When I stop before the finish line...maybe I'm just afraid of a change in the routine?
Friday, June 15, 2007
Comp Over, Feeling Icky
That about sums it up. I *just* got out...not feeling too great about it. Of the three I took, I'm feeling the least great about this one (next comes Macro, Micro I knew I hit out of the park). I was the 3rd to finish, not because I knew everything, but because I couldn't make stuff up anymore.
Thankfully it's pass/fail...all I need is credit so I won't have to repeat this nightmare.
I did manage to make my goal of only needing six hours, but even by noon (halfway through) I was daydreaming, and my productivity quickly feel after that. I just wanted it to be over with. I hope my rushing through the end doesn't cause me to have to repeat everything.
Although walking in I thought that I could have studied more, studying more of what I was studying would not have been helpful. Yeah, they asked literature review questions. :'(
I'm hanging out at the cubicle to see if anyone else shows up and what their impression was. The real impression will be what the professors thing, that I'll be finding out maybe even in a couple weeks. To be continued...
Thankfully it's pass/fail...all I need is credit so I won't have to repeat this nightmare.
I did manage to make my goal of only needing six hours, but even by noon (halfway through) I was daydreaming, and my productivity quickly feel after that. I just wanted it to be over with. I hope my rushing through the end doesn't cause me to have to repeat everything.
Although walking in I thought that I could have studied more, studying more of what I was studying would not have been helpful. Yeah, they asked literature review questions. :'(
I'm hanging out at the cubicle to see if anyone else shows up and what their impression was. The real impression will be what the professors thing, that I'll be finding out maybe even in a couple weeks. To be continued...
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Stale Pancakes
Today is my college roommate Joe's birthday. As I was leaving him a message this morning I began to think about fun memories we had together. Every Sunday was our ritual to go to the student center and have a pancake brunch. Then I began to think about unpleasant memories of the pancakes themselves.
A new car depreciates something like 50% of its value as it's driven off the lot. However, the quality remains unchanged: it's still effectively a new car. A pancake taken off the grill quickly loses its quality, but the value (price) remains the same.
I always hoped for fresh pancakes, and not for them to run out and begin to use the pre-made storage batch (made before the brunch-time rush) For some reason, it began that the workers at the line would make pancakes, take them off the grill, put them in storage, and then bring out the previously stored batch of pancakes to put on our plates, rather than the yummy combination of grill-to-plate. It's made for a continuous cycle of sucky pancakes.
Maybe they had their reasons...maybe the pancakes became very bad if stored even longer, so they opted for medium bad (in their view) stored pancakes. It's our own fault I've since learned; we had our own kitchen at that point, if only I had known then that pancakes are SO easy to make and SO SO SO cheap to make, we could have had fresh pancakes everyday. Maybe we liked sitting is the cozy student center, just to get out of the room. You could say we were then paying for the ambiance.
A new car depreciates something like 50% of its value as it's driven off the lot. However, the quality remains unchanged: it's still effectively a new car. A pancake taken off the grill quickly loses its quality, but the value (price) remains the same.
I always hoped for fresh pancakes, and not for them to run out and begin to use the pre-made storage batch (made before the brunch-time rush) For some reason, it began that the workers at the line would make pancakes, take them off the grill, put them in storage, and then bring out the previously stored batch of pancakes to put on our plates, rather than the yummy combination of grill-to-plate. It's made for a continuous cycle of sucky pancakes.
Maybe they had their reasons...maybe the pancakes became very bad if stored even longer, so they opted for medium bad (in their view) stored pancakes. It's our own fault I've since learned; we had our own kitchen at that point, if only I had known then that pancakes are SO easy to make and SO SO SO cheap to make, we could have had fresh pancakes everyday. Maybe we liked sitting is the cozy student center, just to get out of the room. You could say we were then paying for the ambiance.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Episode III: A Final Push
It is a period of preparation. PhD candidates ready themselves for the FIELD EXAMINATION. It is the penultimate obstacle before the final effort of the DISSERTATION STAGE be undertaken in order that if completed peace and harmony may finally be restored to their lives. Tensions are high in anticipation for Friday's exam, and in the stress the cohort's cohesion begins to break down...
In their ivory tower, the PUBLIC FINANCE EXAMINATION COMMITTEE readies the examination. They need only select a question requesting a review of the literature to psychically ruin the examinees' mental states and completely destroy any remaining fragments of hope...
Meanwhile, halfway across the world, factions in PALESTINE battle for control in the Gaza Strip...
In their ivory tower, the PUBLIC FINANCE EXAMINATION COMMITTEE readies the examination. They need only select a question requesting a review of the literature to psychically ruin the examinees' mental states and completely destroy any remaining fragments of hope...
Meanwhile, halfway across the world, factions in PALESTINE battle for control in the Gaza Strip...
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Coming out Ahead
Often at J Street's (the primary GWU student cafeteria) checkout lines a worker would incorrectly charge me such that my order would be slightly more expensive than what I actually bought. I always let it go, because (#1), a dollar or so was never worth the hassle of having the clueless register worker having to get the manager to take the incorrect order off the machine while snobby GW students gave dirty looks to the cheap bastard at the front of the line making them late for communications class....but even more than that, (#2) for every time a worker made an error where I was worse off there were at least two times when a worker screwed up in my favor. I never complained because I knew I was still coming out ahead.
It's funny that random error would favor me; I'm not that lucky of a guy. My long run win streak was likely in part due to unskilled but sympathetic workers erring on my side. Usually register workers are nice people, we give the benefit of the. I know because I spent many an hour working a register. Contrary to popular old-lady belief, we are not out to screw you: it's not like we get a commission on every nickel we "cheat" you out of. I always believed the customer and put things through at lower prices even if it didn't ring up that way (unless they were being a jerk to me)...what do I care? And Stew Leonard can afford it, anyway (that whole family are tax cheating bastards, by the way).
Currently, I am still receiving the full cable lineup although I canceled my service over a month ago. I am not paying for it. I know now I am not paying for it because I've received a bill in the interim that isn't charging me for cable. But I am still watching cable. I was watching cable on my television right before I sat down to write this. I have even called the cable company and told them, because before I got the new low bill I was worried I was still being charged for cable. The lady on the phone told me her computer was showing it was canceled a week ago, but "I'm looking at it right now!" I told her. So, we kind of gave each other a verbal "oh well" after that and hung up.
Ah, the grossly inefficient cable monopoly and its disinterested employees are finally screwing up in my favor.
It's funny that random error would favor me; I'm not that lucky of a guy. My long run win streak was likely in part due to unskilled but sympathetic workers erring on my side. Usually register workers are nice people, we give the benefit of the. I know because I spent many an hour working a register. Contrary to popular old-lady belief, we are not out to screw you: it's not like we get a commission on every nickel we "cheat" you out of. I always believed the customer and put things through at lower prices even if it didn't ring up that way (unless they were being a jerk to me)...what do I care? And Stew Leonard can afford it, anyway (that whole family are tax cheating bastards, by the way).
Currently, I am still receiving the full cable lineup although I canceled my service over a month ago. I am not paying for it. I know now I am not paying for it because I've received a bill in the interim that isn't charging me for cable. But I am still watching cable. I was watching cable on my television right before I sat down to write this. I have even called the cable company and told them, because before I got the new low bill I was worried I was still being charged for cable. The lady on the phone told me her computer was showing it was canceled a week ago, but "I'm looking at it right now!" I told her. So, we kind of gave each other a verbal "oh well" after that and hung up.
Ah, the grossly inefficient cable monopoly and its disinterested employees are finally screwing up in my favor.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Arrivederci
The final episode of The Sopranos was on last night. I don't have HBO, so I wasn't about to watch it. By the way, because the show was my primary motivation to someday get HBO, I now probably never will (what with netflix being invented and all).
I made grand plans to start getting all the DVDs and being watching with season 5 where I wasn't able to continue watching. I sort of already had some spoilers..I knew Adiana and later Christopher would be killed...in between I knew that fat gay guy would be killed...I suppose it was even spoiled for me that he was gay.
Season 4 kind of sucked...so I didn't feel too bad not watching. But I heard it got good again. But apparently the the ending was a let-down, so much so that it was headlines on the morning news: "'Sopranos' ending blows it!" (I'm paraphrasing).
I suppose that I would want to keep some series finale surprise for myself if I ever enacted this plan to spend a couple weekends purely watching TV. I gave up late this morning though and read the reviews of last night's episode in the papers this morning. Eh, it sounds like the story didn't really end..the hour just sort of ran out and the credits came off.
If the ending isn't really an ending, I don't feel bad on not watching. All I ever really wanted was the Russian guy from the "Pine Barrens" episode to come back and tear stuff up. With the writers forgetting/ignoring all that, the show jumped the shark since 2001 as far as I'm concerned.
I made grand plans to start getting all the DVDs and being watching with season 5 where I wasn't able to continue watching. I sort of already had some spoilers..I knew Adiana and later Christopher would be killed...in between I knew that fat gay guy would be killed...I suppose it was even spoiled for me that he was gay.
Season 4 kind of sucked...so I didn't feel too bad not watching. But I heard it got good again. But apparently the the ending was a let-down, so much so that it was headlines on the morning news: "'Sopranos' ending blows it!" (I'm paraphrasing).
I suppose that I would want to keep some series finale surprise for myself if I ever enacted this plan to spend a couple weekends purely watching TV. I gave up late this morning though and read the reviews of last night's episode in the papers this morning. Eh, it sounds like the story didn't really end..the hour just sort of ran out and the credits came off.
If the ending isn't really an ending, I don't feel bad on not watching. All I ever really wanted was the Russian guy from the "Pine Barrens" episode to come back and tear stuff up. With the writers forgetting/ignoring all that, the show jumped the shark since 2001 as far as I'm concerned.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Henry George on the Middle East
Forty years ago was the middle of the Six Day War, and there is much talk of the legacy this week. Honestly, I know nothing (relative to others); I was neither alive nor have extensively studied Middle East, so far be it from me to say anything on politics or history. At the essence, however, the issue seems to revolve around a question of ownership rights to portions of land. This, I think, I am qualified to make some very general statements about.
This past fall semester I researched and wrote a paper reviewing the literature on Land Value Taxation. The concept was popularized by Henry George, who questioned the morality of (land) property ownership. Much better, George claimed, it would be if the government taxed not the sweat of one's brow (wages), for which ownership is clearly defined and so taxation is truly confiscatory, but instead taxed a commodity that individual people don't really have a right to own, anyway (land).
When I actually thought about it, what is the rational for ownership of land? One what basis should an individual be able to draw a circle around himself in the sand and then exclude others? Now, what basis does a group of people (a country) have to draw that same circle in the sand? When you stop and think about it, there really isn't a good reason. At least, I haven't heard one yet.
Of course, I know that the implications of following this line of thought imply uprooting the basis of society as we know it. I'm not that much of a radical (I'm actually a nerd - I admit it). It's funny, I imagine a conservative pundits bashing my revolutionary student "crazy talk". We'd both be biased, I suppose...they would own land and I don't.
Although an anarchist I am not, the unresolved thought that social structure basics are founded on unjust principles remains troubling. Perhaps southern slave-holders had similar worries late at night concerning the justice of ownership rights of 'certain portions' of their property. John Locke did devise a rationale for land ownership, that farmers tilling a field mingle their labor into the soil and thus derive ownership rights to the land, as labor ownership is clear. This theory was written in the 1600s, however, when "uninhabited" land seemed infinitely available, and makes no sense whatsoever in the present day. Now, I would guess all the land on Earth is already claimed; and why do past generations who did the "claiming" have precedence over future generations? For this reason a "first-come-first-serve" principal of ownership rights is unsatisfactory to me.
I still like to refer to my "circle in the sand" logic occasionally, because there are some policy implications, both for immigration and the moral right any country has to prevent others from moving there, as well as the Israeli-Palestinian situation in the Middle East (well, more broadly all countries who think that they should own a particular parcel of land). Which people should own Israel/Palestine/the Holy Land? My opinion is that no one should. There a proposal on the table to make Jerusalem an international city, that people of all countries should own it. Why only stop at the city limits? The broader region should be an international region, also belonging to all the people of the world, and when you really think about it, the "internationally"-owned borders should then just be expanded to include the whole world. Really, the Earth belongs to all its people.
And then of course, you would phrase this properly: the Earth belongs to no one.
This past fall semester I researched and wrote a paper reviewing the literature on Land Value Taxation. The concept was popularized by Henry George, who questioned the morality of (land) property ownership. Much better, George claimed, it would be if the government taxed not the sweat of one's brow (wages), for which ownership is clearly defined and so taxation is truly confiscatory, but instead taxed a commodity that individual people don't really have a right to own, anyway (land).
When I actually thought about it, what is the rational for ownership of land? One what basis should an individual be able to draw a circle around himself in the sand and then exclude others? Now, what basis does a group of people (a country) have to draw that same circle in the sand? When you stop and think about it, there really isn't a good reason. At least, I haven't heard one yet.
Of course, I know that the implications of following this line of thought imply uprooting the basis of society as we know it. I'm not that much of a radical (I'm actually a nerd - I admit it). It's funny, I imagine a conservative pundits bashing my revolutionary student "crazy talk". We'd both be biased, I suppose...they would own land and I don't.
Although an anarchist I am not, the unresolved thought that social structure basics are founded on unjust principles remains troubling. Perhaps southern slave-holders had similar worries late at night concerning the justice of ownership rights of 'certain portions' of their property. John Locke did devise a rationale for land ownership, that farmers tilling a field mingle their labor into the soil and thus derive ownership rights to the land, as labor ownership is clear. This theory was written in the 1600s, however, when "uninhabited" land seemed infinitely available, and makes no sense whatsoever in the present day. Now, I would guess all the land on Earth is already claimed; and why do past generations who did the "claiming" have precedence over future generations? For this reason a "first-come-first-serve" principal of ownership rights is unsatisfactory to me.
I still like to refer to my "circle in the sand" logic occasionally, because there are some policy implications, both for immigration and the moral right any country has to prevent others from moving there, as well as the Israeli-Palestinian situation in the Middle East (well, more broadly all countries who think that they should own a particular parcel of land). Which people should own Israel/Palestine/the Holy Land? My opinion is that no one should. There a proposal on the table to make Jerusalem an international city, that people of all countries should own it. Why only stop at the city limits? The broader region should be an international region, also belonging to all the people of the world, and when you really think about it, the "internationally"-owned borders should then just be expanded to include the whole world. Really, the Earth belongs to all its people.
And then of course, you would phrase this properly: the Earth belongs to no one.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
The Places I'll go...
On Facebook, a new add-on allows users to map countries around the world they've visited. If I were to add it, my shaded countries would be: Greece, Spain, Norway, Belgium, Russia, Morocco, Italy, Egypt, and Turkey. And America.
What I've loved about graduate school has been all the international friends I've met; I've learnt more more by talking to foreign friends than probably I could by reading a book. It's a much richer form of knowledge acquisition and makes for a more enjoyable experience, perhaps because a human element is necessarily added because the narration is most often through personal experience.
Secondly, it gives me an excuse to visit all these countries. I'll be able to not only catch up with old friends but have the best tour guide available (or even just a friend that speaks the local language, an invaluable asset). I'll have four continents to visit when all is said and done, in additional to within North America travel.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't in graduate school so that I could be making enough money to be traveling around the world. But if I hadn't gone to graduate school, I never would have met all my foreign friends. So it's worth it to postpone my world travels a few years. I'm independent enough to be comfortable traveling alone, but often a major part of the experience is being with someone to share the moments with. And graduate school, with all the friends I've met there, will have given me that.
What I've loved about graduate school has been all the international friends I've met; I've learnt more more by talking to foreign friends than probably I could by reading a book. It's a much richer form of knowledge acquisition and makes for a more enjoyable experience, perhaps because a human element is necessarily added because the narration is most often through personal experience.
Secondly, it gives me an excuse to visit all these countries. I'll be able to not only catch up with old friends but have the best tour guide available (or even just a friend that speaks the local language, an invaluable asset). I'll have four continents to visit when all is said and done, in additional to within North America travel.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't in graduate school so that I could be making enough money to be traveling around the world. But if I hadn't gone to graduate school, I never would have met all my foreign friends. So it's worth it to postpone my world travels a few years. I'm independent enough to be comfortable traveling alone, but often a major part of the experience is being with someone to share the moments with. And graduate school, with all the friends I've met there, will have given me that.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Ah, Friday night...
Mmmmm.....soooo meaty....
I love The Soup; Friday night at 10, a bag of kettle korn, and Joel and it's the perfect beginning of a weekend...
It probably will be talked about, but Paris got out already? I saw that on the TV in the diner yesterday. WTF? Was it like two days? Maybe the jail was sick of the TV people probably reporting outside? I'm sure where ever she lives isn't really a punishment; at least she won;t be able to profit from whatever "jail diary" she was planning to write.
If only I could find a way to profit from this blog. Oh wait, I do know: step 1 is "achieve Paris-like celebrity status)
PS: [updated one minute post-posting] - CNN says a crying Paris was ordered back to prison to fullfill the rest of her term whining "it's just not right!"...heh heh heh...good times...
I love The Soup; Friday night at 10, a bag of kettle korn, and Joel and it's the perfect beginning of a weekend...
It probably will be talked about, but Paris got out already? I saw that on the TV in the diner yesterday. WTF? Was it like two days? Maybe the jail was sick of the TV people probably reporting outside? I'm sure where ever she lives isn't really a punishment; at least she won;t be able to profit from whatever "jail diary" she was planning to write.
If only I could find a way to profit from this blog. Oh wait, I do know: step 1 is "achieve Paris-like celebrity status)
PS: [updated one minute post-posting] - CNN says a crying Paris was ordered back to prison to fullfill the rest of her term whining "it's just not right!"...heh heh heh...good times...
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Transitions
We are losing another from the program. Hien will not be returning in the fall; he's actually leaving this Saturday to go back to California. A bunch of us went out for lunch today with him for his sending off. Probably won't be seeing him again.
My cohort is nearing the end of our second year of the PhD program; we've lost four now: Julia left halfway through first semester midterms, Lori didn't come back after that first fall (although I think had been through a year of the master's program), Manjola didn't show up for summer classes, and now Hien is leaving after the end of the second year.
I'm actually sad that any of them left. More people is always preferable to fewer; it makes for a more varied and interesting academic setting. But I suppose if they don't like it they should have left and not stayed for the rest of our self-interest. I think it could only have been better for those of us still here if people weren't dropping out (but of course, maybe not better for the people who did drop out).
PS - Saying goodbye today, Hien said he would come back and visit. I sincerely doubt that is true. When people are making what is commonly understood to bye long-term (or final) goodbyes they always say something like "I'll keep in touch" or "I'll come back to visit lots". Do they really mean it? My sense is everyone knows it's not true; is it a mechanism to soften the transition? I never liked this "custom", it always seemed so fake to me.
My cohort is nearing the end of our second year of the PhD program; we've lost four now: Julia left halfway through first semester midterms, Lori didn't come back after that first fall (although I think had been through a year of the master's program), Manjola didn't show up for summer classes, and now Hien is leaving after the end of the second year.
I'm actually sad that any of them left. More people is always preferable to fewer; it makes for a more varied and interesting academic setting. But I suppose if they don't like it they should have left and not stayed for the rest of our self-interest. I think it could only have been better for those of us still here if people weren't dropping out (but of course, maybe not better for the people who did drop out).
PS - Saying goodbye today, Hien said he would come back and visit. I sincerely doubt that is true. When people are making what is commonly understood to bye long-term (or final) goodbyes they always say something like "I'll keep in touch" or "I'll come back to visit lots". Do they really mean it? My sense is everyone knows it's not true; is it a mechanism to soften the transition? I never liked this "custom", it always seemed so fake to me.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
One Number Off...
Today...is 6/6....07! One number away from aesthetic uniformity. Sigh.
Or one number away from demonic significance, so maybe it's for the better...6/6/06 would sort of be a bad omen and I have major events upcoming (comps, surgeries, etc) that I don't need jinxed. I'm not the only one to notice, I think the news made something of it when June 6th happened last year.
There's something about "special" numbers....much more often than dates I'll observe particular "times" of the day, what seems like every time I check my watch: 4:11, 4:20, 5:13, 5:26, 9:11...and anything that's a straight: like 12:34 (oh look, what time did I post this?)....or I'll get nerdy and think 5:27 is special because 5+2=7.
I suppose certain numbers are "beautiful", others invoke a comfortable sense of familiarity. The reason that e-mails circulate when it's going to be 12:34 on 05/06/07 might be because as human beings with enjoy order and structure. Consonance not dissonance. In places as mundane and ordinary as our wristwatches.
Or one number away from demonic significance, so maybe it's for the better...6/6/06 would sort of be a bad omen and I have major events upcoming (comps, surgeries, etc) that I don't need jinxed. I'm not the only one to notice, I think the news made something of it when June 6th happened last year.
There's something about "special" numbers....much more often than dates I'll observe particular "times" of the day, what seems like every time I check my watch: 4:11, 4:20, 5:13, 5:26, 9:11...and anything that's a straight: like 12:34 (oh look, what time did I post this?)....or I'll get nerdy and think 5:27 is special because 5+2=7.
I suppose certain numbers are "beautiful", others invoke a comfortable sense of familiarity. The reason that e-mails circulate when it's going to be 12:34 on 05/06/07 might be because as human beings with enjoy order and structure. Consonance not dissonance. In places as mundane and ordinary as our wristwatches.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Fed Up
Yesterday I basically gave up a job at the prestigious Federal Reserve Bank, Atlanta branch. I feel sick now. I couldn't sleep last night.
Well, the job wasn't quite what I thought I'd be able to take on...by the listing description "temporary" they meant "a full year commitment". Now it's looking like I'll be taking a third class in the fall and so was uncomfortable adding what would be effectively be a third job (after classes and my school job) to my workload without thinking something would be giving out.
Maybe I'm too chicken to take on another job, thinking my grades (or mental health) will suffer from an additional 20 hour per week loss of time. Maybe I'm being lazy by not being willing to work extra; I'm not that rich, I have huge student loans and upcoming surgeries to think about...am I that well off that I can't work? No, I'm not. I hear about people working three jobs to feed their kids and is that media-hype or am I just a prissy college boy?
Oh, but that $12 an hour x 20 hours a week = $800 a month would have been sooo sweet. I think this is partially the increasing frustration I'm feeling being continually poor. I really know I should fight the increasing urge to substitute school with work (for income's sake) because I don't want to end up ABD, a not uncommon tale I hear.
Probably every week that passes during July I'll be thinking it's $200 I gave up. It's not just the money, too, it's the boredom. I'll have to try and find productive means to occupy my time. Refining my term paper for publication is one means. Maybe I could volunteer or something. Ideally, I'd find a ten week (paid) internship, but the good ones are in Washington, and already started. My summer is really shot with having my comprehensive exam so late.
So, I could have lied and said "yes" to the commitment of taking the hourly job at the Fed, knowing I'd leave as soon as the first problem set was passed out fall semester. But, Jiminy Cricket jumped on my shoulder and told me not to do it, and I had to listen. I guess nice guys finish last.
Whatever, I don't have the job.
Well, the job wasn't quite what I thought I'd be able to take on...by the listing description "temporary" they meant "a full year commitment". Now it's looking like I'll be taking a third class in the fall and so was uncomfortable adding what would be effectively be a third job (after classes and my school job) to my workload without thinking something would be giving out.
Maybe I'm too chicken to take on another job, thinking my grades (or mental health) will suffer from an additional 20 hour per week loss of time. Maybe I'm being lazy by not being willing to work extra; I'm not that rich, I have huge student loans and upcoming surgeries to think about...am I that well off that I can't work? No, I'm not. I hear about people working three jobs to feed their kids and is that media-hype or am I just a prissy college boy?
Oh, but that $12 an hour x 20 hours a week = $800 a month would have been sooo sweet. I think this is partially the increasing frustration I'm feeling being continually poor. I really know I should fight the increasing urge to substitute school with work (for income's sake) because I don't want to end up ABD, a not uncommon tale I hear.
Probably every week that passes during July I'll be thinking it's $200 I gave up. It's not just the money, too, it's the boredom. I'll have to try and find productive means to occupy my time. Refining my term paper for publication is one means. Maybe I could volunteer or something. Ideally, I'd find a ten week (paid) internship, but the good ones are in Washington, and already started. My summer is really shot with having my comprehensive exam so late.
So, I could have lied and said "yes" to the commitment of taking the hourly job at the Fed, knowing I'd leave as soon as the first problem set was passed out fall semester. But, Jiminy Cricket jumped on my shoulder and told me not to do it, and I had to listen. I guess nice guys finish last.
Whatever, I don't have the job.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Celebrity Edition: Playing Both Sides
Paris Hilton went to jail today or yesterday or whatever. I know this because it is ubiquitously mentioned on every channel, "reputable" media included. Pundits report on the issue then hypocritically in the same sentence lament that such a story is being covered out of proportion to its actual significance. I believe they feel that adding that second parts gives them street cred.
Or are they playing both sides? Say what everyone else is saying to get it in then whine-whine-blah-blah-our-celebrity-obsessed-culture, regardless of the fact that they are contributing to the hype. "Hello, I'm reporting on Paris/Anna Nicole/Britney's hair/_____...now, I'm complaining about the coverage of _____." It's so scripted. I would often eat dinner during the 7:00 hour and hoping to flip on Headline News to get some news headlines Glenn Beck's fat head it often saying: "Hey, isn't it a shame all the coverage _____ is getting? What is happening to our country? [Well, I'm going to talk more about it]...joining me now is [so-and-so to talk more about it]..." This is one of the reasons I cancelled cable. Even CNN sucks now.
Also and anyway, Paris Hilton is not even that pretty, anyway. What's her appeal?
Or are they playing both sides? Say what everyone else is saying to get it in then whine-whine-blah-blah-our-celebrity-obsessed-culture, regardless of the fact that they are contributing to the hype. "Hello, I'm reporting on Paris/Anna Nicole/Britney's hair/_____...now, I'm complaining about the coverage of _____." It's so scripted. I would often eat dinner during the 7:00 hour and hoping to flip on Headline News to get some news headlines Glenn Beck's fat head it often saying: "Hey, isn't it a shame all the coverage _____ is getting? What is happening to our country? [Well, I'm going to talk more about it]...joining me now is [so-and-so to talk more about it]..." This is one of the reasons I cancelled cable. Even CNN sucks now.
Also and anyway, Paris Hilton is not even that pretty, anyway. What's her appeal?
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Where there's fire, there's smoke
...and there's been a pretty big fire in southeastern Georgia. Even though I'm nowhere near that, I've still been affected these past few weeks:
May 21st I walked out of my apartment into the hallway and smelt wood burning which could only imply that a raging fire would soon consume my apartment, bedroom, computer, and my music library built since 1999 contained therein. Not seeing smoke or hearing a fire alarm (or cries of help), I went to my patio just to be sure and it was smoky outside, too. So, I thought maybe it might be the apartment complex next to mine. I walked outside and it was smoky everywhere and really smelled strong, and I wondered if it really wasn't wood burning but maybe a car on fire (I've seen several accidents at the intersection near my place, including a biker getting hit my a car, and have accepted my death will likely occur crossing that street one day). As I get around the corner of the grocery store, but see no blazing automobile, but *all* of the downtown is in a cloudy haze, and the smell is very strong I figured whatever it was, it had to be big, such as perhaps a plane had crashed at the airport because it was incredibly smokey. You see, at this point, without evidence of a burning apartment, I was willing to accept that burning jet fuel (an an exploded car wreckage) would share the scent reminding me of childhood summers making s'mores. There was no panic on the subway, no talking about "the tragedy" between strangers. Could they not smell it? Getting off the train, it was also very smoky downtown: the tops of the skyscrapers were all clouded out. At the school, I got on the Internet and learned that winds had carried the smoke from forest fires in southeastern Georgia all the way to Atlanta.
If you imagine the state, these fires are on the exact opposite side, but one could imagine the scale of the blaze because the smoke permeated my building such that I thought it was on fire, even when the real fire was hundreds of miles away! So far away, this was even health problem for some people, that morning a lot of elderly people were wearing surgical masks. It was pretty much gone by that afternoon, but there would be more days in the future when the odor was again in the air. I'm in good health, and even I found the air heavy. How were people breathing that were closer by?
Tropical Storm Barry graced the southeastrn portion of the state with its purifying rains yesterday, and I haven't seen anything on the news but wonder if the fire was diminished. I actually thought there might be more smoke from the extinguishing of the fire, but nothing has blew this way today. It's amazing how the wind can carry scents so far away. Did rural Europe/Japan smell the devastation of WWII bombings of major cities? They say wind carried radioactive participles into cow's milk hundreds of miles away from nuclear explosions (I can't recall exactly who "they" are). With a strong enough wind, the world has been small long before what we call globalization.
May 21st I walked out of my apartment into the hallway and smelt wood burning which could only imply that a raging fire would soon consume my apartment, bedroom, computer, and my music library built since 1999 contained therein. Not seeing smoke or hearing a fire alarm (or cries of help), I went to my patio just to be sure and it was smoky outside, too. So, I thought maybe it might be the apartment complex next to mine. I walked outside and it was smoky everywhere and really smelled strong, and I wondered if it really wasn't wood burning but maybe a car on fire (I've seen several accidents at the intersection near my place, including a biker getting hit my a car, and have accepted my death will likely occur crossing that street one day). As I get around the corner of the grocery store, but see no blazing automobile, but *all* of the downtown is in a cloudy haze, and the smell is very strong I figured whatever it was, it had to be big, such as perhaps a plane had crashed at the airport because it was incredibly smokey. You see, at this point, without evidence of a burning apartment, I was willing to accept that burning jet fuel (an an exploded car wreckage) would share the scent reminding me of childhood summers making s'mores. There was no panic on the subway, no talking about "the tragedy" between strangers. Could they not smell it? Getting off the train, it was also very smoky downtown: the tops of the skyscrapers were all clouded out. At the school, I got on the Internet and learned that winds had carried the smoke from forest fires in southeastern Georgia all the way to Atlanta.
If you imagine the state, these fires are on the exact opposite side, but one could imagine the scale of the blaze because the smoke permeated my building such that I thought it was on fire, even when the real fire was hundreds of miles away! So far away, this was even health problem for some people, that morning a lot of elderly people were wearing surgical masks. It was pretty much gone by that afternoon, but there would be more days in the future when the odor was again in the air. I'm in good health, and even I found the air heavy. How were people breathing that were closer by?
Tropical Storm Barry graced the southeastrn portion of the state with its purifying rains yesterday, and I haven't seen anything on the news but wonder if the fire was diminished. I actually thought there might be more smoke from the extinguishing of the fire, but nothing has blew this way today. It's amazing how the wind can carry scents so far away. Did rural Europe/Japan smell the devastation of WWII bombings of major cities? They say wind carried radioactive participles into cow's milk hundreds of miles away from nuclear explosions (I can't recall exactly who "they" are). With a strong enough wind, the world has been small long before what we call globalization.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
I wasn't a total slacker: Dream Journal
I wasn't totally non-journalistic this past year. Right when I quit this I started a "dream journal" the very next day. I did manage to keep that up through the summer (with some off weeks when I took a road trip and it was hard to copy down what I dreamed. I was going to title the journal "Summer Nights' Dreams" but was worried someone else would see it and think that title was gay (not withstanding the concept of a dream journal itself would be gay).
For what it's worth, last night I dreamed that it was the afternoon wrestling match in high school. I went to weigh in, and was twelve pounds overweight for the class which the coach wanted me to be. I told him it was impossible to lose twelve pounds in four hours (or I'd most certainly lose the match even if I could lose the weight, given how much that would take out of me!)....with my pleas he just sort of kept starting back on me, his unblinking eyes saying "TF". I went back to my locker with plans to go into the humid pool room, or at least turn the showers on. I suddenly was in my underwear in front of my locker (at least this wasn't a dream where I was naked in public...oh I've had those...). Teammates Andrew and Pete were teasing me for wearing briefs, saying "why are you wearing 'tightie-whities'?"...I yelled back that the much more socially-acceptable boxers got bunched up under my singlet. I wouldn't really know that, it was just my excuse...I always wore briefs in high school.
I remember high school as being some of my favorite years yet there seems to be enough traumatic material subconsciously stored in my brain to provide sufficient material for anxiety-related dreams to haunt me almost a decade after I graduated...one reason I kept the journal was to confirm what I already knew: I have this reoccurring dream in some variation where I show up to a band competition (or am going to fill-in or something at finals in the present day) but as we are about to start the show, either in practice or competition, I don't know the music (fakeable/cover up-able) or where to go (not fakeable/cover up-able)...so I'm running around following everyone, always a beat behind and clueless on where the form is going next.
The biggest surprise to come out of the journal was a reoccurring setting in my dreams: it was always the night before a big snowstorm was predicted to role in. During my New England childhood, snow days were the biggest theme of the winter after Christmas, and the night before was always full of uncertainty...will it snow enough to cancel school? Will that stupid plow come and clear the streets in enough time? Should I do my homework? Apparently all these anxiety-related feelings implanted themselves upon my psyche. Friends in Florida didn't have snow days, but sometimes had "hurricane days"...I wonder if they dream about the night before a hurricane is supposed to role in?
For what it's worth, last night I dreamed that it was the afternoon wrestling match in high school. I went to weigh in, and was twelve pounds overweight for the class which the coach wanted me to be. I told him it was impossible to lose twelve pounds in four hours (or I'd most certainly lose the match even if I could lose the weight, given how much that would take out of me!)....with my pleas he just sort of kept starting back on me, his unblinking eyes saying "TF". I went back to my locker with plans to go into the humid pool room, or at least turn the showers on. I suddenly was in my underwear in front of my locker (at least this wasn't a dream where I was naked in public...oh I've had those...). Teammates Andrew and Pete were teasing me for wearing briefs, saying "why are you wearing 'tightie-whities'?"...I yelled back that the much more socially-acceptable boxers got bunched up under my singlet. I wouldn't really know that, it was just my excuse...I always wore briefs in high school.
I remember high school as being some of my favorite years yet there seems to be enough traumatic material subconsciously stored in my brain to provide sufficient material for anxiety-related dreams to haunt me almost a decade after I graduated...one reason I kept the journal was to confirm what I already knew: I have this reoccurring dream in some variation where I show up to a band competition (or am going to fill-in or something at finals in the present day) but as we are about to start the show, either in practice or competition, I don't know the music (fakeable/cover up-able) or where to go (not fakeable/cover up-able)...so I'm running around following everyone, always a beat behind and clueless on where the form is going next.
The biggest surprise to come out of the journal was a reoccurring setting in my dreams: it was always the night before a big snowstorm was predicted to role in. During my New England childhood, snow days were the biggest theme of the winter after Christmas, and the night before was always full of uncertainty...will it snow enough to cancel school? Will that stupid plow come and clear the streets in enough time? Should I do my homework? Apparently all these anxiety-related feelings implanted themselves upon my psyche. Friends in Florida didn't have snow days, but sometimes had "hurricane days"...I wonder if they dream about the night before a hurricane is supposed to role in?
Friday, June 01, 2007
Back for the second time
...a new beginning? Like that Friday the 13th movie...it sucked and made me afraid to go around corners for a good year of my childhood on the possibility that Jason might be there with a machete raised...
I thought I'd give the blog thing a try again, at least for the summer. In some way I know that my future self will appreciate that I time-capsule myself for reading...one year? Five years? Fifty years from now? I was home in Norwalk a couple weeks ago and going through some things found a diary I kept during the summer of 1991 (so I was ten). I only kept it for about seven days, I guess ADD set it (and I think my mother making me was the only reason I did that much). Reading it I couldn't help but thinking what an idiot I was...no sentence structure! I am sorry to my teachers and parents I much have been so boring/annoying. The cliche is children not being proud of the adults they grow up into but I am embarrassed by the child I was. OK, not really. I did like reading that and thinking the boy who wrote it was me long ago.
So, the downfalls of the last attempt at this were:
(1) I didn't think anyone was reading it. That shouldn't matter, because it's not just for other people, and I can make a crack at obtaining site statistics.
(2) I didn't have time...well, I think it's a good use of time, and I can knock-out short little random tidbits pretty easy. Time is the one commodity we're all born with equal amounts of, and how much effective time we have is just skills in time management...
So, here's a resolution to keep it up until summer's end...is that unofficially Labor Day? I didn't start with Memorial Day, but I'm pretty close. Calender summer starts today. We'll see how it goes...
I thought I'd give the blog thing a try again, at least for the summer. In some way I know that my future self will appreciate that I time-capsule myself for reading...one year? Five years? Fifty years from now? I was home in Norwalk a couple weeks ago and going through some things found a diary I kept during the summer of 1991 (so I was ten). I only kept it for about seven days, I guess ADD set it (and I think my mother making me was the only reason I did that much). Reading it I couldn't help but thinking what an idiot I was...no sentence structure! I am sorry to my teachers and parents I much have been so boring/annoying. The cliche is children not being proud of the adults they grow up into but I am embarrassed by the child I was. OK, not really. I did like reading that and thinking the boy who wrote it was me long ago.
So, the downfalls of the last attempt at this were:
(1) I didn't think anyone was reading it. That shouldn't matter, because it's not just for other people, and I can make a crack at obtaining site statistics.
(2) I didn't have time...well, I think it's a good use of time, and I can knock-out short little random tidbits pretty easy. Time is the one commodity we're all born with equal amounts of, and how much effective time we have is just skills in time management...
So, here's a resolution to keep it up until summer's end...is that unofficially Labor Day? I didn't start with Memorial Day, but I'm pretty close. Calender summer starts today. We'll see how it goes...
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