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There ain't no rest for the wicked.

2010-02-23T19:36:00.004-05:00

It's just like old times tonight. Me and the kiosk computers late at night in Pew, waiting for my ride. I spent an hour on Etsy before the exam and Facebook's got nothing, and my cousin started a Blogspot blog which reminded me that I had my own blog, which hasn't been dusted off and updated in years. So, should I ever be offered the opportunity, this is my reminder never to take on 18 credits. Never. ever. again. The work is unending. A paper here, presentation there, and a project inbetween. As soon as I get through one big project there's another big deadline in about 3 days. And I start working again after spring break. And I really want to graduate magna cum laude, and as my GPA is exactly .1 above the low-water mark for that, I can't afford a goof. The difference now, though, is that although the work is on, and a little self-imposed pressure, the stress isn't. I've got a job-- I know where I'm heading. That makes all the difference. I don't need to get there fast but I need to have a destination. Something more solid than a goal. Now that I've got one I've been able to let go and just enjoy the trip so much more.

So, spring break. That's coming up in a week or so. One of those situations where you want it to just get here already, but at the same time you know there's not enough time to get everything done first that you need to. But I might get one thing taken care of tonight. I've been working hard since Christmas dieting and exercising with my sights on a bikini for summer, and I think I'm getting there. Maybe I'll get lucky tonight and find THE ONE!

A consort has been found...

2008-06-25T01:58:00.003-04:00

Well, a subsequent day of mailings introduced me to several possible love interests for Harrissa...

James Burns (might edit that, but retain the short, dignified Britishness), spy for the opposite side, not really a love interest, more of a flirtation as a half-hearted attempt to disguise their attacks and counterattacks as spies
Aaron Able, a nice guy, somewhat more sensible and realistic than handsome hero Buck. Doesn't have her wits and training, but is able to help her out, doesn't do anything stupid to make her job harder than it is.
The mysterious Jeff Flight. I have no idea who he is or what part he's going to play, just that he's on the good side, nothing dramatic.

It all started years ago, in the sleepy little town of Whitewright, Texas...

2008-06-03T11:28:00.002-04:00

So I'm back working light industrial at Acor through the Empower temp agency again. Lucky for me I ended up in Finishing again, unluckily back on 2nd. At least I know some of the people still, although they've had a bunch of staffing changes. So yeah, one of the things I love best about working manufacturing is that you get to see how things get made, from soup to nuts. In Finishing we get printed pages from Printing, and run them through various machines to get catalogs, magazines, pamphlets, and, yesterday, a small trifold-and-glued mailing for the Iron Horse Supply Co. This involved unpacking the finished pamphlets, which involved rotating half of each stack so they all faced the same way (they flip half the stack when packing so it stays even, cuz the folded side always goes higher), feeding them into the machine, which printed the address and barcode on, then packing them into post office cartons, generally one box for each city, with exceptions for bigger cities like Austin and Dallas. It was mostly Texas during my shift. Finally you secure the boxes with tape and skid them. A fellow temp introduced me to the chief joy of mailings: watching for weird names, both of people and cities. This, in turn, led to me keeping an eye out for good names, the kind that would be useful in a story. I ended up with three characters who are going to play key roles in a tongue-in-cheek kinda pulp fiction sci-fi, kinda western, kinda contemporary junior fiction: Harrisa Hassenfluke, Buck Peddicord, and Katie Seematter. Harrissa Hassenfluke's personality is going to have shades of Anastasia Krupnik and the smart girl from Recess, she's the smart girl that isn't as pretty as our heroine, the blonde beautiful oceanographer (or maybe just run-of-the-mill scientist) Katie Seematter, who catches the eye of the stereotypical star of the kiddie westerns, the fairly intelligent cowboy Buck Peddicord. There will be a man for Harrissa eventually, he just wasn't in the mailing. (Hogg, Jr. did not sound like the kind of man for her.) Watch for it.

Oh, the places you'll go...

2008-05-21T20:02:00.008-04:00

I really must get some get-up-and-go from somewhere. Much as I'd love to, I can't just drift through life like I've been doing. All of the very few career-advancing moves I have made have involved an uncomfortable amount of unsolicited effort, and they've all been worth it. I've got to grit my teeth, get the CLEP tests studied for and taken, get a few scholarships applied for, and take a chance on a few of those great jobs that seem out of reach that mom keeps bugging me to apply for. I need to write a resume. I need to stop being spineless about a trip abroad. I let them talk me out of it this summer. I can't let myself get so scared about costs and being by myself and not knowing what to do. It's good to be careful, but at the same time growing always requires getting out of one's comfort zone a little (or a lot.) So many of my friends and people I know are studying abroad, or even joined clubs that involved studying abroad. They get involved with things and run things and manage to survive on tighter schedules than I've ever experienced. I've got to stop being scared of people and start hosting parties and reaching out to people I'd like to know. I've got to start my Etsy shop and stop being nervous about bad photography or whatever else it is that keeps me from doing it. I should join that Accounting fraternity and maybe set my goals a little higher. I've got to welcome leadership. It's about time I finally give in and take that long-awaited next step toward self-sufficiency. (I try not to make a habit of growing up too soon. Anyone who knows me can probably guess this, seeing how long it took me to get a job and a driver's license.) Which reminds me, I've got to get started on that boating license too, because I want to be able to pull dad skiing this summer before he starts getting too old to enjoy it.

Simply put, summer is not what it used to be. I will say this, though. It still beats school with a stick.

I do it to myself...

2008-02-09T01:11:00.000-05:00

Well, here it is at 1 in the morning. I've been overthinking a few things, and I've had to do a bit of leadership, which isn't my thing, and maybe if I let it all out on here I won't get so down about it.

First off, nobody reads this blog anymore, except me. And a one-time visitor from England who spent 1/2 hour and 5 page views on here, which was flattering. Since then, however, 9.8 out of 10 vistors have been me or have spent 0.00 minutes viewing because they were looking for the Calvin and Hobbes quote which I used for a post title once. Seriously. You wouldn't believe how many people a month are looking for that quote! From all around the world! It has definately overtaken the Ventures Christmas Album in total views elicited. Weird.
Second, the U.S. is going to hell in a handbasket. But that's old news. We're just going a little faster now I guess. Just read the comments on any given featured YouTube video. It's just depressing. Even leaving out the idiotic things people think they need to say, the grammar and spelling is atrocious. And there's some that I know for SURE isn't on purpose. Our schools are crap. And we keep pouring money into them. Bah.
Third, I just was reminded of how horrible Valentine's day used to be. In high school the student council offered roses for sale. Guys would buy them for a few lucky (and pretty, and skinny, or related) girls, and the student council would deliver them in class. Year after year, they would walk in, my heart would race a bit because I was stupid enough to let myself hope, and then they gave them to someone else and left the room, leaving us less fortunate ones to nurse our wounds. Then one year I actually got roses. Quite flabbergasting. Hope knew no bounds. And then I found out that it wasn't one of my many crushes, but a few of the popular girls, who had bought them for me. Out of pity, I'm pretty sure. "Let's do something nice for poor old Darselo!" Yeah. It was nice of them, but I would have rather not gotten any at all. Although in retrospect, it was actually better that it was from them, if it was from a guy I probably would never have survived the shock, and what if it was from a guy I wasn't so crazy about? Or worse, what if it was? Nowadays Valentine's isn't as excruciating, mostly because college isn't very convenient for flagrant displays of affection and showers of adoration. No lockers to leave balloons and flowers in, dontcha know. Plus, I'm alright with being single. Que sera, sera, is my attitude towards relationships.
Fourth and final, I somehow ended up as the leader for our group research paper in my Econ class. Me, in charge of 5 boys. I'm actually finding that I don't mind leading. It means that you get things done your way, mostly because nobody else wants to take the lead, so if you do they'll just do whatever you want out of gratitude. :P Specimen #1 is great- responsive to e-mails, not afraid of work, always in class. Specimen #2 is fine as well- the same as #2, but at a less extreme level. Specimen #3 has been in class once. Seemed good enough the one time I talked to him, offered Facebook contact, doesn't respond to e-mails. Specimen #4 is small, gay, always in class, and has never responded to anything, or approached us any of the times we (me, 1, 2, and, once, 3) talked after class. So today I stepped up the bitchiness a notch (I took the liberty of assigning subtopics to us all, because if I asked them to chose for themseleves, it'd be even worse than chosing the topic, (nobody but me had anything to say, which went on until the week it was due, at which time I took action) anyways, I had to go out of my comfort level a bit and send them both "did you get my e-mails, and if so, do you have a good explanation for not responding as I clearly asked you to do?" messages. Only not in that wording, of course. It's not gonna be pretty, but at least there's three out of five of us on board. Luckily, my MGT group is really good.

It is now 1:40 am, and I do feel a little better. Tara.

2008-01-11T13:35:00.000-05:00

So I have 15 minutes before my Econ class, and I've had the blogging itch for a while, so here goes another ramble... Before the good stuff I have to get through the obligatory beginning of semester summary.

I have six classes, 16 credits. Last semester was a nice, easily managable 4 class, 13 credit affair that went pretty smoothly on the whole, except for my jackass of a native-French speaking Spanish prof. Considering how badly I did on some of his exams, the A- I got was higher than I expected, but my beloved 4.0 is now gone. I will miss it. It was good for raising eyebrows in the counselling office: "Well, you have to have a 2.5 to be admitted... Oh, *embarassed laugh* you'll have no problem with that, will you?" Nope. Although I guess you can't really sneeze at a 3.9 either, but it just doesn't have the magic of the 4.0. Mi professor no fue un buen tipo de professor, porque siempre gano un A en mis clases de espanol. Que lastima.

So yeah, this new semester is a bit of a rude awakening. For one thing, I have to write actual papers again. I've had a bit of a break from that and I am not looking forward to it. Especially since I'm pretty sure that the Macroeconomics research paper is supposed to be a group thing. How do you write a research paper as a group? Macroeconomics is definately the class I'm most leery of, (Prof w/ accent, projects up to wazoo) but Management Information Systems (lots of group projects, no idea what the class is about even after 3rd day, prof with accent) is a close second and Business Law (tricky subject matter, have to lead group discussion) could be a problem too. Stats seems easy enough so far, but we're only in the first chapter, it could get worse. *Since writing this sentance I have discovered that yes, indeed, it gets worse. For one thing, my mom's friend's son is in there too, and although we played together as infants, including him explaining his limited knowledge of the production process of chicken and stars soup to me, we really haven't had anything to do with eachother since. The last time we interacted at all was a year ago, I was babysitting his brothers, he walked in and yelled "Hi babysitter!" down the stairs, and went on to discuss his football game w/ the friends he had brought home. It was awkward. I am still trying to figure out if he even knows who I am. My Management Accounting class should be fine, I put my trust in good ole prof Stove from last semester's Financial Accounting class. He's a good egg. My 1 credit Accounting class shouldn't be a problem. It's just the acutal manual accounting and I get along w/ that okay.

So anyways, as usual, college leaves me with all too many opportunities to think and make observations, including but not limited to bus rides, waiting for class to start while trying not to make eye contact with anyone, and my breaks.

Observation #1: After having bought three semesters' worth of books, I have noticed an interesting trend in book binding techniques. Certain types of classes will always have softcover bindings, and other will inevitably be hard cover. Hardcover genres include all math books (including accounting) language books, and science books (when they are involved with medical majors). Softcover genres include gen ed classes (this is WITHOUT fail), computer books, and economics books. Why is this? Maybe the people responsible don't even realize what they are doing, but I like to think it has something to do with the age and permanancy of the information. Take your average math or anatomy book, for instance... The human anatomy doesn't change much, and neither do the ancient rules of algebra or geometry. They're old, they aren't gonna change, and therefore they get a hardcover binding. Your average gen ed book, however, isn't very large, or important, and is probably gonna be completely revolutionized as the fashionable ideas about the topic change. Take your average CS150 book. A signifigant portion of the content didn't exist 5 years ago. Almost none of it existed 15 years ago. In another 5 years the book will probably be completely irrelevant, so what's the point? That's kind of discouraging though... In most of my business subjects, everything I learn will be outdated in a few years. Why am I learning it at all? Why not just wait a few years and go to school then? Because what I learn then will then be outdated within a matter of months, if the exponential growth predictions are to be believed... What's gonna happen to us when we can't keep up anymore? This is annoying for other reasons too... Like buying a new computer. Buy one now, and have it become obsolete in a year, or put up with junk for another year so you can buy the latest technology and be cutting edge for a few months. But then that one will be outdated too. Same goes for speakers, cars, TV's, sound systems, etc... How is this gonna end?

Observation #2: In regular classrooms, the whatever it was in the old metaphor (chips?) tend to lie where they fall, which, being interpreted, means that within a few class periods an unofficial, unspoken seating chart has been created, to be upheld on pain of incensed glares from the owner of the usurped seat. This does not hold true for computer classes, however. The kids in my management class keep bouncing around like BB's in a boxcar, true, there is usually one or two unoperational computers each day (location varies) which tends to cause some disturbance, but honestly, why can't they pick a spot and usually stick with it? It's disconcerting to find the spot you had staked out for yourself one day occupied the next, leaving you to fend for yourself, and to have different neighbors every time.

Observation #3: I've been contemplating the ramifications of man being made of dust and woman being made from man's rib... First, that may explain why girls are on average smaller than guys. Second, I think this explains some of the big differences b/t men and women personaltiy wise. I've forgotten a lot of my conclusions about this, apparently, because none of the good ones are coming to mind, but one of them was that guys were made of earth, so they have colder personalities over all... Women were made of flesh, so they are more emotional and warm. Then again, earth isn't as strong a material as bone, which justifies my age-old theory that deep down men just aren't quite as strong as women. Another thing I think women being made of Adam's rib explains is why the sexes are so attracted to eachother. It kind of works like charged cells... Guys are missing a rib, and we have the missing rib... therefore we bond. Lol... Simplistic I know.

I'm glad nobody I know reads this blog anymore, because these observations offer a somewhat intimate glimpse into the weird wanderings of my bored mind. It's gonna be a good semester for the old blog, because I have a short break in which I am in close proximity to a few uncrowded computer labs, so expect more observations to follow.

Ice, Ice Baby

2008-01-02T22:33:00.000-05:00

Well... today was interesting. First of all, I'm on my winter break from school. Work has been slow for the past few weeks, so I haven't had to work. Which is good, obviously, because it means I occasionally have been able to sleep in during my break. It is also bad, however, because I'm spending money like a drunken sailor and have nothing to replace it with. Along with that, the schoolessness and worklessness has lured me into a false sense of freedom, to be brutally crushed next Monday. Well, possibly tommorow even, as I will be buying books. Of course, that isn't really as painful for me as it could be, since I still have scholarship overflow checks coming. Still, book-buying is about the only time college students ever see $100 bills. Well, anyway, as has been established, I'm on break.
So are other college students.
Including a lonely rocket scientist-to-be, who asked a friend to hang out, and then me (because I just had to have my tart remark, even though I could guess at the consequences). We are both to nice to openly refuse, but we are also not interested in quality one-on-one with the guy. Our solution? Maxmize the girl-to-guy ratio. Four of us ended up meeting him for skating downtown, which really was fun even though the skates were crappy. I like skating, and I wish I had some way of taking classes to get more skillz. That and gymnastics and scuba diving and body surfing and snowboarding and ballet and modern dance and the list goes on and on and on. All the things my parents didn't get me into as a child, dooming me to a life of "good enough to get by" in all things physical. So anyways, I've been distracted from the point of this post, which is, a rant about coffee shops.
So after the skating we all head for this coffee shop one of the girls knew about. This involved going the wrong way on a one way street, stopping for a red light in the MIDDLE of the intersection (with a cop directly behind us, fortunately going off-duty), several foiled attempts (due to construction-based road closures) to get across town, and another driving infraction commited in the presence of a cop.
Needless to say, we all were ready for a cuppa. Now, I'm a noob where coffee shops are concerned, especially when I can't read the menu behind the counter since I forgot my contacts (again). I've never been to a Starbucks. The most elegant coffee drink I had previously ordered would be the English Toffee cappucino at Russ's. Luckily for me they had a little flip-style specials menu thing out on the counter, and this mint mochachino thing sounded good. A friend promised me I could get it warm, as opposed to iced. I can't abide iced coffee. Any more than a quarter cup and I am nauseated, as also happens with any variety of tea or soy milk. Anyway, my turn arrives and I cheerily ask for a warm mint mocachino. The guy mumbles something involving "hot" into his headpiece, and the girl on the other end apparently has as much trouble understanding him as I do, as he was forced to repeat himself several times. He then turns his attention back to me, and says something about "Mint Condition" this I knew to be a drink with espresso, and I was (and still am) wary of espresso, since I don't like strong coffee. Is espresso a really strong coffee, or is it just extra caffinated? I was about to let it go, but then I decided that I should start standing up for myself, and should make sure I got exactly what I wanted. Isn't that what these establishments are all about? So I told him, wait, I asked for the Mint Mochachino, and proceeded to show him the picture. He muttered some more on his headpiece and then culled $4.55 from my roll of bills. I moved on down the line, anticipating a mouthfull of warm, minty goodness. Talk started up again, as it will between girlfriends, and somewhere along the way doubt was cast on my drink. The statement about being able to get a warm mint mochachino was retracted, and replaced with the idea that the "Mint Condition" was actually the warm version. Which meant that by insisting on the "Mint Mochachino" I had actually procured for myself a clear plastic cup of what turned out to be mint-flavored brown water textured with little chunks of ice and chocolate chips. I lasted for about half of it, mostly due to the chocolate chunks, but then stomachache and chills set in, from which I am still suffering as I write, even after a restoring bowl of piping-hot homemade potato soup. I feel robbed.
Moral of the story: When in coffeehouses, don't order any of those fancy schmancy drinks. Especially if you're like me--I have a little more experience after tonight, but ordering coffee is an adventure for me, since no matter what I ask for I will be at least a little suprised by the contents of what I end up getting. You will be much better off with a bowl of the soup of the day. Or if you are feeling bold maybe even a plain old mild/medium blend coffee with a hazelnut flavor shot and enough cream and sugar to incite comment.
With that I would like to wish every one a blessed New Year!!!!!! The blog (still) lives!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Measures of...

2007-09-18T11:59:00.001-04:00

So yeah... as occasionally happens, I fell into a bit of a transcendental state last night- something about a dark campus, I guess. Just to warn you, then, this post is a bit random and maybe pointless, but it's deep man, it's deep. Anyway, here's the thing chronologically. I was getting out of accounting class at roughly 8:30, and the guy who sits behind me and I both had questions for the prof. He got there first, talked, and left, and then I asked my question, exchanged some pleasantries, then left. By this time there was just a small trickle of people leaving the building, and once we got into the straightaway I was able to see the guy who sits behind me walking ahead of me. Roughtly... oh, I dunno... 75-100 feet ahead of me? Anyways, I got to thinking that that 100 feet represented the minute and a quarterish that I had spent talking to the prof. Within the spacing lay a conversation-- it was a measure of time really, not distance. So yeah, my deep, meaningless insight. Alas, it will go to waste because I don't have a writing class to draw it out in, but it really was striking for some reason- that the distance = my conversation... And that's really all that's new. Except that I'm working on preparing my mental state for a canoe trip this Saturday. If I anticipate getting tipped, maybe I can even look forward to it... or--dare I say it-- not mind?!

Back In The Saddle Again

2007-08-28T17:00:00.000-04:00

Hmmm... It would appear that blogging is a strictly college-related activity, at least for me. 'Cause I didn't post all summer, and here were are, 2nd day of classes, with a new post! Very little has changed, actually. Looking back at my "What I've learned from College" post, I'm seeing some horrible similarities. Most pressing is the whole "walk into Manitou = developing sudden need to hit the restroom" thing. I'm also on track to beat last years towering list of embarassing moments. Envision this scenario:

I'm heading for the bus stop. Bus is there, but isn't moving. Therefore, I don't speed up much. I start to get nervous, and quicken my pace. Bus begins to inch forward. I run. Bus continues to move, I continue to run. Bus never stops, even as I run along side it for a second. This all in front of a mildly interested multitude of about 30 or 40 peeps.

In other news, the Padnos steps continue to be a menace, even without slush. Last year I believe the score was Steps - 3, Me- 60. A new year means a new score, and it is currently Steps- 1, Me -0. This time I was walking up the steps and I attempted a left dodge to avoid a stream of pedestrians heading down. As my eyes met the beautiful blue optics of a male of the aforementioned stream, I realized that they weren't leaving enough room for me on the left so a sharp, emergency duck right was in order, while at the same time my left foot hit smooth tile and almost (not quite) slipped out from under me. I stumbed, and a full collision with the blue eyed guy was avoided, but it was a near thing. If either of us had on one more layer... Then dialouge ensued:

Simultaneous: "Sorry!"

Him: "Are you alright?"

Me: (No bodily harm, but the pride is heading to the nearest E.R.) "Yep, I'm fine."

Oh, and it looks like this years classes are all hard and boring. Really. There isn't one class I'm pumped for. And I'm still going for Accounting. Hm. Not good. But then again, I haven't really gotten into any of them yet, maybe they'll improve. At least it doesn't sound like I'll have a whole bunch of papers this year.

So WhoooHooooo! New Post! The Blog Lives!!!!

What I've learned in College...

2007-04-24T17:01:00.000-04:00

Hey y'all, time for an update again, I guess. Thanks to my 3 or 4 faithful readers for checking in from time to time, it makes it all worth it, lol.

What I've Learned In College

You DON'T use conjunctions in formal writing.
If you enter a GDSU computer lab, you will feel a strong, sudden urge to go to the bathroom immediately upon login. This is not an exaggeration, it is an unescapable fact of life- be prepared.
If you are like me and are uncomfortable using crowded public restrooms, it is important to know which ones are most likely to be empty. At GDSU these include the bathroom in the Southernmost end of the 2nd floor of Mak, the one hidden in the vending machine room to the right of the MAN entrance, and the 2nd level bathroom smack in the middle of KirkHoff.
Bathrooms built after the 80's will not have an anteroom where you can dump your backpack- in these situations the proper thing to do is lean it against the door in your stall. Ew.
Register the very first minute you possibly can. I know this, I just haven't put it into practice yet. But it seems like it would really help.
Don't plan on using a college computer the week before finals.
With the exception of above, computers are readily available any time after 4 pm.
Lunch in the Landing is easiest to come by at 3 pm. The pizza is good, the ice cream is not. Pop is the same everywhere.
The best bus seats are the two back corners, because you can prop your feet up. Unfortunately I didn't discover this until recently. The absolute worst seats are the first two seats where the back of the bus rises, because basically your at the eye level of anyone who is standing, or any of the sideways seats on a crowded bus because the view is inevitably an eyeful of posterior. The exception is if it is a good lookin' posterior. But still.
There are some good points to Classical Music, particulary this once piece by Bach and Appalacian Spring by this one composer, but there are also pieces that should have been left to dissapear into the mists of time. I speak of the musical contemporaries of modern artists, particularly the opera Wozzak and the Hiroshima thing, where violins basicaly are made to imitate an atomic bomb and air raid sirens. My ears will never be the same.
Book buyback can make you feel rich and cheated all at the same time.
Ratemyprofessor.com is the brainchild of a very intelligent and benevolent person.
Spanish classes are best taken with people you know, late at night.
However, it is not a good idea to schedule days where you only have one class from 6-8, the timing is awkward, really splits your day up weird.
One of our presidents died from food poisoning from rotten cherries.
Spanish speakers have a very definate idea about what a pretty girl/heroine voice should be in animated movies. I'm pretty sure the same woman does the voices for Jasmine, Beauty, and the various other animated princesses and love interests in the Spanish films I've seen. Either that or all beautiful Spanish girls have the same voice.
College isn't as great as it's cracked up to be, but not as bad either. It's survivable, as long as you have enough money and or brains, food, support, and manly fortitude.
College Algebra is so much easier than high school Algebra. Go figure.
It's really amazing how often you see people you know, even if, like me, you don't know all that many people. Just to prove me right, my cousin saw me in here and popped in to say hi. We have our Spanish exam in 1/2 hour.
The best part about college, is, of course, break.

Happily, I will be on break in 3ish days, which will start a flurry of applications and resumes, and hopefully land me a job. I will also be working on (YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!!) OUR COTTAGE!!!!!! Yep, you read that right, my fam bought a cottage on a lake about 20 minutes away from our house, right next to our cousins' cottage. How we came to get it is a long story, as is our refurbishing efforts and, hopefully, our adventures while spending time there. Hopefully I'll get around to telling this story sooner or later, and I also plan on updating the Clyde blog w/ Darren, so stay tuned for that, and check out Dren's profile to find the link if you haven't seen it! And I quote Scarlatti, "Tara!"

It's not Shakespere

2007-03-20T15:53:00.000-04:00

Well, then. As promised, here is an update, finally. It will please you all to know, I'm sure, that I'm in a much more felicitous frame of mind. School is out in three weeks, we have a cottage (such as it is), I have a babysitting job (along with my mom and sis, but what a GRAVY gig it is), and I'm gonna be workin and gettin money, and who knows, maybe I'll even end up in the U.P. this year...
Anyways, I've been meaning to improve my post quality, trying to get away from constant gripes and onto something cooler and more meaningful to others, etc. This may not get me there completely, but it's a start. It's my first, and hopefully only sonnet, that I wrote for my Brit Lit class. Sonnets are, frankly, exasperating, but I still kinda liked writting them. They're like a puzzle- you need to have a certain number of syllables in each line, with a certain pentameter (pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables) and certain lines have to rhyme. It's tricky getting just the right combination of words to have it fit AND make sense. Shakespere and other Renaissance men wrote lots of these, usually to impress the ladies. Having written one myself, if I ever get an original and good sonnet dedicated to me by some guy, that's gonna be some major, major points in his favor. I might even give him a title or something, like Queen Elizabeth... Anyways, I digress...

Untitled Sonnet
That damsel's countenance doth look, to me,
As one too colorless, ashen, and pale.
Indeed! A face of death is what I see.
But what can be the plague which so doth ail?
Alas! Her eyes of blue begin to dim.
Alack! Her knees (well-shaped and fair) do bend.
The objects in her view begin to swim.
Again I ask- What means caused this, her end?
The maid now sways, now falls! But quick is caught,
And speedily to nearby couch is borne.
At once her limbs are rubbed, cold water's brought,
While slow the circumstance 'pon me doth dawn.
For now its telling picture truth doth paint,
'Tis clear her gift of blood has made her faint.

This was inspired by a real life event- a classmate of mine really fainted- which was pretty big news the day it happened, and always got mentioned whenever the blood bus rolled into town. It happenes to you once, and you never live it down. Poor Melvie. I got lightheaded once, but I've given a gallon so far... Everybody get out there and give blood! It's the easiest and fastest way to save a life,plus you get cookies, Coke, and sometimes a free t-shirt or boxers. Some people even will pay you for plasma.

All My Life's a Circle...

2007-02-08T01:03:00.000-05:00

...sunrise and sundown. ~Harry Chapin.
I (although I could be doing more productive things like the homework I've been freaking out about all day, or, even better, sleeping) have been reading the archives. And I have come to the conclusion that my life pretty much runs in a circular pattern. It starts off with hope and happiness, goes to despair, stress, and a ton of homework, even more despair and stress, mostly brought on by my bad time mangagement (see first sentance), then things start looking up, hope returns and happiness ensues, until another crushing blow falls upon me. It is a viscious cycle, and no wonder I've gotten so cynical, pessimistic and escapist. And- since I'm a good little Anthropology and Sociology student- I know this isn't my fault, it's the result of the the horrible American culture creating an environment that is influencing me. Seriously- all those classes consist of is the implied understanding that white American culture is of no value, that no other culture in the world is capable of doing anything wrong, and that, quite possibly, nobody has a right to say anything is "right" or "wrong." Bah. A pox on college, and on American culture, which encourages people to attend it. And now to bed, where I should have been 2 hours ago.

There's some days even my lucky rocketship underpants don't help. ~Calvin, of Calvin and Hobbes

2007-02-05T22:15:00.000-05:00

The fury of the blizzard had ebbed, leaving a deep coating of dusty snow to muffle a world frozen to the negative 4 degree. She pulled her coat on over her pajamas, stuffed her feet into a pair of shoes and slipped out of the dark basement. Few things are more beautiful than a winter sky. The air is dry and clear-- all the water has frozen and fallen, and the stars are at their most reachable. Orion was the only recognizable constellation; a waxing moon and the nearby city blocked out lesser stars. The snow crunched as she angled for a better view. She thought about perfection, and how man had so completely ruined God's perfect world. Even now, in all the beauty of the black sky and the white snow, moon and stars, lay man's smudging, marring fingerprints. The city light blocked out the stars, and it's toxins lay in the glittering dust. Breaking the silence of the snow was the hum of the highway and the crunch of a snowplow across the woods. Woods (don't think about it) that had (it hurts, but I can't help it) more or less been doomed to be sacrificed on the altar of urban sprawl and human greed. It was, and is, a thought that panicked her. Her childhood, the precious memories that made life livable, chopped down, buldozed, and replaced with the proposed 20-house development where people would make memories of their own, never realizing that they had destroyed hers. The fragrant patch of wild lilly-of-the-valleys, the various forts she had built with the friends she no longer knew, the place she had buried her pets, and fled to when all seemed wrong with the world. She remembered how it had felt when another woods, equally precious, had been destroyed, and a few tears flowed down her face for the old pain of the little girl was, and the present fear that little girl had never anticipated.
To some people, change is a friend, but to her it was always an enemy, forcing her forward when all she wanted was to stay where she was, then retreating for awhile and lulling her into a false security, before whipping her world around again. It even had the gall to change her. This was why--although by most people's standards she was young--she felt old, defeated, and helpless, unsure of where she was going, what she was doing as she tore herself away from the world of snow and stars, and headed back into the house.
"Help me, Lord. Please... just help me."

Back at it...

2007-01-08T12:34:00.000-05:00

There is one thing I like about returning to college. One thing, and one thing only. They always start things off on Mondays, as opposed to my high school, which would start things off on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and occasionally Thursdays. It just really throws things off when you don't start on Monday. Monday- even though it remains a "no man's land" of unpredictability- is also the day for starting things. It just makes sense starting on Monday. Perhaps it's a cultural thing, like in my Sociology 101 class. Maybe for my culture-breaking experiment I can start my week on a Tuesday!

Anyways, the good news first:
~It snowed!
~As far as non-class life is concerned, nothing has changed.
~I'm still having frequent sightings of the Language Lab tech and a Writing Consultant. Although that might not be good news. I'm gonna say it is though, b/c it's something familiar.
~I'm getting better at knitting.
~I'm not going to have any big tests/projects/papers/exams in Ant 204.

Bad News:
~It snowed~
~I'm hungry.
~There's no one to talk to in any of my classes. Yet.
~People I sit by tend to have 1 or 2 friends in the class with them, eliminating any possible chance of them talking to me.
~So far I have speeches in 2 of my classes. Gulp.
~So far I have chronic group discussion in 2 of my classes.
~So far I have constant readings scheduled for 2 of my classes.
~I've got a ton of pesky 3 pager essays slated.
~I still have 2 classes to go.
~I have to do a "breaking social norms" project for Soc 101, which involves, well, breaking social norms. Seeing as my life's mission is to blend in, this does not sit or bide well for me.

I can't dance... trust me, I'm not just saying that.

2006-12-29T23:36:00.000-05:00

So yeah... the third to last first cousin was safely married off today. I wish nothing but the best for them, I've always been on friendly terms with her, and the guy she picked always has a smile and a friendly greeting for young in-laws. Even AFTER going out to eat with all of us MORE than one time. This requires a certain degree of good-naturedness, patience, and manly fortitude, as the wait for the food seems to bring out the worst of the sick humor in the Vanderbeanies.

The ceremony was cute, quick, and everything Non-Netherlands Reformed that a ceremony presided over by a youth pastor of a mega-church with a shiny eagle on the back of his tux would be expected to be. (Note to self: strapless dresses are not fit for human consumption.) The church was HUGE- think VanAndel. But anyways, we got through all right. Then came the reception. I...survived. They say time heals all wounds.

We rode with our aunt, the mother of the bride, so we arrived first. It was pretty, so once we had the seating arrangement settled, I got down to business with my cameras. I wanted to get the whole scene in the picture, so I climbed up to the second story balcony. I flipped over my camera case to get it out, forgetting I had batteries for the digi-cam stored in it, leading to a battery-based carpet bombing of the ground floor. Luckily, nobody was there yet, and they fell harmlessly. With that encouraging start, I decided to sit down, shut up, and wait for the food. Nothing, I repeat, Nothing (except perhaps a baseball game or Chicago traffic) goes slower than a wedding reception. After 20 minutes, the bridal party showed up. There was a mad rush for the cash bar, then a formal seating of the bridal party. 20 minutes later the white-uniformed servers brought out water. After another 20 minutes we were given bread baskets. Then a couple ding-and-kiss sequences, and the salad. A twenty minute wait, broken up by some scattered camera fire and more ding-and-kiss, and the main course. Garnishing the stuffed lasagna??? was some sliced summer squash and zucchini. If there is one thing you can't accuse me of, it's being vegetarian, and to kill time during the seemingly endless wait for the dessert buffet, I amused myself by pushing all the slices into a green-yellow pattern around the edge of my plate. I was one of the first to patronize the "coffee station," and was just relaxing with a pretty strong cuppa when I hear a rather droll, "Nice design." I had forgotten about that, and was rather embarrased as the bald, Simple-Plan bassist look-alike waiter smiled indulgently and asked me if I was through with my plate. Heh-heh... "Yup, thanks." Anways, the Cannoli and Tiramisu course passes peacefully, until the sound guy throws in a left turn. "Okay folks, now it's time for Mr. and Mrs. D's first dance as a married couple. This would be my first dancing wedding, btw. Next was the bridal party, then *shudder* snowballing time. Everyone on the floor had to grab someone from the tables. Unaware of my peril, I laughed when the super-tall bridesmaid grabbed some little boy of her aquaintance. Then came the second snowball round. I had a slight apprehension, and was keeping my gaze focused away from the dance floor, my attention concentrated on my water glass. Then *BAM!* Two hands on my shoulders and an unfamiliar male voice, "Okay darlin, let's go!" (OH NO, NONONONONONONO, ^&*()*^, PLEASE, PLEASE, NO! GAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!) "Heheh... ahahaha... I really can't dance..."
"Oh, that's okay, I can't either!" *Grins* (GAAAAAHHHH!!!! WRONG RESPONSE BUSTER!!!! I'm NOT kidding... I've never danced in my life- at least not successfully, or in public. Apparantly he was one of the twins in the bridal party who were next-door neighbors to the groom.)
"Uh, okay..."
So I get up in a daze and we sorta bounce around to "Me and My Gang", I go for a twirl thing, which we kinda pull off, then he tries the 'ol country kick thing, with some success, I half-heartedly try it, then I guess he realized I hadn't been kidding him, and we sorta just shuffled around for a while and watched the 3 or 4 people who were actually dancing, and kinda joked around about not being able to dance. Then the song changed and he nicely let me go sit down. "Thank you!" Soon after we left, with me totally freaked out. I mean, I'm not really used to the whole dancing thing. As I told the dude, most people's dancing ablility is direcly correlated to blood alchohol level, and mine wasn't elevated. Also, I've seriously never danced before, at least not with non-brother guys anywhere near, much less WITH non-brother guys. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! But oh well, several key witnesses told me I did fine, and I shouldn't ever run into the dude again because he lives in Chicago, and, of course, time heals all wounds. Still, I can't stop laughing at myself, him, and the whole shebang.

After that we left, watched the skaters downtown, and took a look at Gerald Ford's memorial, which was kinda cool, first time I've ever seen a full-size general-public tribute up close like that.

GAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! How am I EVER going to get to sleep again with that whole episode playing around in my mind?! It's bad enough with all my high-school memories.

Well then.

2006-12-20T17:11:00.000-05:00

Ah... what is it about having the time to get things done that takes away the desire to get things done? Break is upon us, and the sloth in me reigns supreme. Having recently learned that listing things that need to be done is bad blogger ettiquite, I will refrain, but there are things I should be doing that I am not. I'm good at finding more important things to do than what I should do. Blogging, for instance, and You Tube, which may be my current biggest time-waster. And I find myself getting back into Neopets... Stupid of me. Funny how things change. Neopets was what got me interested in the internet in the first place.

This was oh... 1999, I believe. I had a friend back then that I am no longer in contact with, and she was the one who discovered Neopets, and pushed me into it. Those were the old days, with K-mart's Blue Light internet, which allowed us a whopping 12 hours per month. I treasured my 15-minute sessions dearly, and the times I was allowed a whole-half hour of feeding, buying and selling in a virtual world about drove me wild with happiness. Not quite. But still.

Internet is like meth- one whiff and you're hooked, and the longer you're on it the more you need. It took a while- Blue Light was cheap, and so is my dad- but eventually the bad service, limited hours, and the fact that K-mart was switching to Dad's arch-nemesis AOL, we jumped ship and signed on with AT&T for 150 hours a month. This was still in the age of dialup, and those of you who weren't born this millenium will remember the siren song of the connecting modem, the slow loads, and-most hated of all- getting bumped off due to a phone call. Oh, and did I mention slow loads? Everything seemed to take ages- Neopets games took a good minute or two, downloading was not for the faint of heart, and video was out of the question. In spite of it all, I grew in knowledge- HTML became a good friend, I learned how to ferret out the information I wanted, and life was good.

Of course, human nature doesn't let us remain contented for long. DSL came along, and we were slowly exposed to it's wonders. Again, it took awhile, but when unlimited DSL was offered for 15 bucks a month, compared to 10 bucks for 150 hours of dialup, Dad cracked. The first few months we were in awe, poleaxed by the blazing load speeds, the dizzying video abilities, and being able to talk on the phone while checking our e-mail. Not all the changes were for the best- the strange CSS took the place of my familiar HTML, rendering me nearly helpless where website personalization was involved. Neopets froze my 7-year old account, shutting me off from my fake pets, my very real high scores and honors, and my huge stock of NP. And all my secret avatars. It was a crushing blow. But I had You Tube to soothe me, with all it's obscure TV show episodes, it's anime comedy dubs, it's obscure music videos, and I discovered blogging, to my great happiness and everyone else's complete lack of interest. And now, here I am, more or less settled in to the wonders of DSL. I am no longer startled by blazing load speeds. In fact, I occasionally finding myself irritated with our "slow" computer, having already forgotten that the "slow" computer could still whip the pants off our dialup plan, and could pretty much hold it's own with the old HP. But that's humans for ya, never satisfied. A good thing is never enough, we're always reaching out for the next thing, never being happy with what we have. And then you read the winter issue of the Come Over and Help Us magazine about people who don't have enough money to pay for heat, clothes or medicine, who are so happy and overwhelmed at recieving winter boots, oranges, or a Bible. Can you imagine what they would think even of the old Blue Light internet? Are we happier for having it? Is happiness possible without God?
See what college has done to me? It's made me cling to my past, think seriously about the present, and plan for the future. Bah. I'm getting so sick of all this social awareness. And look at me carry on. All I orginally intended to say was that I survived my first semester of college with a 4.0, and that I Aced my Writing class.

Latte boy, bring me java, bring me joy...

2006-12-12T16:36:00.000-05:00

Well, I had some bad java this morning. As far as the McLatte's go, McDonalds is a national chain. They can't rise above that. Get your coffee locally, says I. But, since we're on the subject, here's a little gem I heard on the community radio station on the way back from the cottage a couple of years ago. For some reason it popped back in my head today, I looked it up, and VOILA! Taylor the Latte Boy!

Okay, okay, okay... Yes Mom, yes, I will finally start studying for my *gulp* Math 110 exam tommorow. Buh-bye peoples, let the song warm your heart in this wet, bone chilling weather.

Onwards and Upwards...

2006-12-08T09:51:00.000-05:00

Yahoo! Blogger has finally given the go-ahead to switch to Blogger Beta! You can view an updated profile, and be expecting some layout changes shortly as I figure out all these great new options!

Monday a la Mode

2006-12-04T16:30:00.000-05:00

Well, as of two days ago chalk up one more hit for the Ventures Christmas Album. Some Dutchman was looking for it on *dah dum* company time. Well, if you one of these European Ventures fans, I highly reccomend this album, it is a showcase of quality musicianship, but you'll have better luck finding it on E-bay. Unless... I'll burn you a copy for $3 and some of your chocolate. Deal?

Anyways, it has been a Monday of note. Lake-effect snow has made walking somewhat of a challenge. I really must give up my scruples and wear a hat and scarf, dorkiness regardless. Hip waders might be a good option too, since the college snow shovelers can't prioritize. There's this lovely bare patch in front of the near-deserted student services building, while the hugely traffiked walkway between Mak and Man is nothing more than a swamp of slush. My jeans are suffering.
As is my pride. I have no wish to see the insides of Manitou again until next semester. Twice, TWICE today I have had the person behind me in line need to point out an open computer that I had totally missed. Bad enough. Then, as I was getting up to leave I stepped on the backpack of the chump sitting next to me, which has sneakily fallen against my chair. The combination of the uneven footing with my haste to get off said backpack before I destroyed a senior thesis or something slowly pushed me off balance, the plastic chair I grabbed did nothing in the way of support, and together we made a nice, curling slow-motion fall. In the middle of the packed-to-the-gills computer lab. Ugh. The chump asked me if I was okay. Well, I kind of laughed, but there is no recovering from something like that. I wrestled my coat on and fled.
So here I am, wasting time in my Writing class. My Spanish class was cancelled. Which I should be happy about, only it was fiesta day today, and I am carrying $4 of now-useless Salsa con Queso in my backpack. The buying of said Salsa con Queso was the cause of some familial friction, so I am a little miffed at it all being for naught. Oh well, at least I can go home and drown my sorrow in some authentic imitation Mexican food.

It's a mad, music loving world out there...

2006-11-29T21:33:00.000-05:00

I've had site feed for a couple months now, and it's pretty much great. It satisfies my stalker tendancies... oh... heheh... *ahem* ... that is to say, my curiosity. No really, don't wory, I just really wanted to know if anyone reads this blog. Turns out there's a few of you that do. It's pretty gratifying, now I just wanna know who reads my blog with the Cornerstone server. And how the guy from Hawaii that's a member of the Indiana Smallmouth Forums ever found my blog. That was pretty random- he linked to my Right Brothers post, and I guess he thought it was funny that I posted about smallmouth bass and right wing punk rock in one post or something. Anways my post went against their Religion and Politics taboo, so the link was removed, but that was a record week for hits. Interestingly enough, the majority of unknown hits have been people looking up obscure music titles, Europeans in particular. (And on company time too- they've all been on company computers.) I've gotten hits for my random mentionings of The Ventures Christmas Album, Aeslin Debelin, and Mannaheim Steamroller, among other things. It's quite odd. Maybe I would have better success if I started a music database. Or maybe it's just that music is an important part of my life, and is therefore given a prominant role in my blog. I would say that it's the latter, particularly since I was spurred to a post by finding an absolute gem on You Tube yesterday. It's one of those videos that you just have to see to believe. Somehow, this song called "I Was Kaiser Bill's Batman" (batman being some kind of commando soldier thing) went pretty high up on the charts in the 60's. The funky thing, besides the title, is that the main instrument is a human whistle. The success of this song suprised the producers, who quickly hired a poster boy for the song. Thus Whistling Jack Smith was born. One fine day, when my dad's neurons were in particularly fine form, he remembered this hero of his youth, and purchased the record. Yes, the vinyl. Much of best and brightest of our family's collective music collection can be found on records. There's always something special about playing records. Songs just don't sound the same without the crackle. Anyways, I digress. The record was chock full of Whistling Jack goodness, and as I was idly browsing YouTube yesterday, I made this startling discovery:

DISCLAIMER: THIS SONG HAS DANGEROUSLY HIGH POTENTIAL TO GET STUCK IN YOUR HEAD. AS THIS KIND OF SONG GOES, IT IS UPBEAT AND MOST PEOPLE DO NOT FIND IT ANNOYING, BUT I DECIDED TO WARN YOU ANYWAY.

Pretty vintage, no? He's actually kind of cute, in that 60's kind of way. Probably ain't so cute now though.

Vida es buena... este dia at least.

2006-11-23T22:24:00.000-05:00

I'd have to go back a ways to find as good of a Thanksgiving as this one was... Way back to age ten, or possibly less. It was a wonderful day- we were all outside in t-shirts playing touch football, as opposed to last year's snowball fight. Weather sure is quirky. But anyways, it was a Thanksgiving to be thankful for. I hope that my regular readers (all 5 of you) can say the same.

Cure for Writers Block?

2006-11-14T21:31:00.000-05:00

Well... I'm supposed to be writing a paper, but it just isn't coming out, so I'm hoping a whiny freewrite will help loosen up whatever it is that's stuck. I like only having to write three papers, but I dislike the fact that I'm always working on them, and working on them. Polishing, revising... or, more frequently, just plain finishing. The paper I'm working on now is about 13 pages long (we have a 6 page minimum) and I still have to finish 2 paragraphs and the conclusion. Another thing about these papers is that I have to think big thoughts. Which, although I can do, takes time, stress. I've always got these papers hanging over me, so whenever I try to relax, its "You should be working on that paper..." There are only 16 days left, and I need to finish, do detail work, get creditable sources and MLA format on the film analysis, detail work on the ad analysis, and then brainstorming, revision, detail work, sources and MLA the person analysis. The detail work is the hard stuff- you have to go through every sentance and rework it for conciseness, a & b lists, alliteration, metaphor, generalization, claim and explain, all that sort of thing. I seriously spent about 10 hours one day just doing detail work on the ad analysis. It's insane the amount of time I spend on these papers, if not working then at least stressing. Good thing my other classes are easy. Or not. And I have to get a job somewhere, and re-arrange my schedule for next semester, plus decide on a career. All this, and I'm really bad at taking compliments. I need to develop a method of accepting the compliment and agreeing, while still being calm, cool and modest. If there are any proven methods or suggestions, please let me know.
So, sorry about the whiny, self-centered post. I just needed to vent, and if I get a little sympathy on the side, that's always nice. I would just tell the "dear diary" this, but it's so much easier to type. Plus, you can actually read the things I type.

*BONUS*
These are the songs (so far) that I can listen to over and over and over again in a row, without getting sick of them: (We're talking, like, 10+ listens in a row)
Life Ain't Always Beautiful, Best I Ever Had (Gary Allan) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-87iBIEohhI
Different Drum (Joe Scruggs- it's a kids song, but back then, it was my anthem.)
Eternal Memory of Lightwaves- Intro to FFX-2, very sad, pretty song, feels otherworldly... I have the piano music, but it's slightly different and doesn't have the cool sound effects. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_KZyhlOAg-Q
Only Time (Enya)
Complicated (Avril Lavigne)
Memory (from Cats, but the piano version by Sally Harmon)
Wintersun (Bond)
Listen To Your Heart, I Can't Be Your Friend, Someone, Seventeen... not individually, but in rotation. (D.H.T. is easy on the ears.)

Many of these are great songs to do homework to. Particularly Enya.

There, hopefully I'll be able to concentrate.

A Day Late...

2006-11-09T19:17:00.000-05:00

It's a day late, but still a great song...

When Common Sense Was An Uncommon Virtue

2006-11-07T22:00:00.000-05:00

Election Day 2006

"Lord, forgive us, for we know not what we do."

Christmas comes earlier every year...

2006-11-03T20:39:00.000-05:00

Well, the radio is playing Christmas songs now. (Nov. 5) Some people make a big deal out of this, but I don't really truely mind. So long as it's just the one station. Although I really thought that the "Day after Thanksgiving" rule was working well... I do wonder when they are going to draw the line. I mean, as far as I can see, there is a increasing linear function since 2001 associated with when they start playing carols. Every year they start about 2 weeks earlier. In 25 years or so, we'll end up with an "All Christmas, All the time!" station if we're not careful. Which would not be a good thing. The thing that makes carols so special is that you only hear them once a year. And snow. Snow is essential to Christmas carols. So as I sit here on this 50 degree day in the fall, with green grass and some leaves left on the trees, Christmas carols are just out of place. The closest I can get is Snow Patrol... Chasing Cars. But, the dear aunties and grannys want their Christmas music and sob stories... so here we are.

Prescision Bike Chucking

2006-10-24T10:49:00.000-04:00

Mondays, at least to me, are 24 hours of uncharted territory. The unexpected and the unprecedented. Take yesterday for instance. It began, as always, at 12:00 am, which found me cleaning my room and getting ready for bed. Somewhere between 1 and 2 AM, my mother got the flu (passed on from my sis) which was worrisome because she is the sole means of transportation for my bro and I. I wake up at 6 to offer to drive my bro to his class, offer declined. I wake up at 7, realize I can sleep in, then wake up at 8. Due to an erroneous interpretation of my schedule, I arrive at class an hour early. Most of my day is extremely boring to anyone who is not me, but there were some notable occurances.

I left my flash drive in a computer. Again.
I realized this an hour later, when I had just settled down in the Writing Lab, which is a great many longitudes away from the lab I left my flash drive in.
On cross-campus hike to retrive flash drive, I overhear a pretty funny conversation:

Time: 1:45ish. Place: Supportless bridge over deep gorge.

So yeah, I'm stepping along briskly, and as I am reaching the bridge I begin to catch up to this mis-matched group of guys. There were two jocks, an African American, and a short geeky guy. On the narrow bridge, there was no getting around this Phalanx, so I just kept pace behind them. About halfway across, one could see a bike stuck in a tree, and the guys adopted it as a subject of conversation. From what I could see, they were in dead earnest.

"Haha... Someone chucked a bike in the tree." (scattered chuckles)

"Haha... It's hard to get a bike up there"

"I know, and they have it stuck up there just by the seat!!! That's precision bike chucking!!" (scattered noises and exclamations of admiration)

"Haha, seriously though, they do that every time there's a bike in the ravine. Someone picks it up and throws it in a tree."

"Oh I know... We went down there once, at like 10:30 at night."

"Yeah, it was pretty sweet, but then we lost Johnny. And we were like 'S**T!!! We lost Johnny!!!"

"Yeah, and you were all wearing flip-flops. I was the only smart one, I had traction."

It faded out after this, but that conversation, and the recovery of my flash drive, really made my Monday.

And do you realize that this month marks my blog's first anniversary? No? Well, now you do. Happy Birthday Bloggie! And I know I promised a lot of big thoughts for a first anniversary post, but I'm about drained dry of big thoughts. Bike chucking is more my speed at present. I can appreciate now why brainless humor is so prevelent among college students. There is no brain left to waste on humor.

A Wednesday in the Life

2006-10-11T15:49:00.000-04:00

I know that I shall not finish the post in the 5 minutes I have before calss,\\\\ class, but I would like ou \\\you all to realize how m\\ the crapiness of this computer. Ana\d a\And all of the cheap com \ computesr. Act. Okay, I give up.

And now, a couple of hours later... I have decided to share with you the details of the typical Wednesday in the life of Darselo. Remember that messy paragraph above. I will explain it eventually.
My Wednesday began, as everybody's does, at 12:00 A.M. This unearthly hour found me typing stoically away on my ad analysis. Which, although it doesn't have a intro or a conclusion, came out very well for something I wrote in the subconscious. I must admit to spending as much time on Facebook as on my paper. It's addictive. At 1:00 the creative juices ran dry, and I switched computers to finish and print my Spanish portfolio. Then I remembered that I needed color copies of my ad for my analysis. Printer 2 doesn't work. Computer 1 won't open the document. At 1:30, I give up, and stumble off to bed.

At 7 my faithful alarm clock alerts me that it is seven. I push snooze, and snuggle back in for 10, then 20 minutes more. Then mom yells down at me, and I muscle myself out of bed. By 8, I'm ready to head out to the bus stop.

8:20: It is raining. It has rained on every Wednesday since I started college. This is because it is one of the days when I do the most running- an extension of the VanderBoon rain-bringing curse. Farmers love us- that's how my dad got my mom, I think. Anyway, it's pretty crowded on the bus- always is between 7-9. When the bus heads into the river valley, it's pretty much trucking- a little scary- you can hear the strain on the engine.

8:40-50: The bus dumps us off at Mak, and I hoof it over to Padnos and HH. A quick check of the Facebook, then I finish my Geo assigment for Friday. I then have nothing better to do than plop down on one of the benches and wait for 10:00. The H.H. isn't a bad place to sit around in that early in the morning, if you happen to hit it well inbetweeen the class changing. It's quiet, with a soothing fountain. The benches are okay for the first ten minutes, then you start cramping up. I always start leaning against the pillar with my knees up, then knees down, cross and uncross, then give up and sit normally. By this time, all available bench space (within reasonable personal space limits) has been filled.

10:00- File into the lecture hall, wind myself into the awkward, swiveling lecture hall chairs, and take out clicker and notebook. Clickers are kind of cool- it's like a remote where you choose the answers to questions on a powerpoint. It compiles the answers and shows the percent that chose each answer. Hobbes and Mel enter and plop down next to me. Other than that, the class is pretty boring right now. We're into weather as opposed to biology/history. I was geeking out for a while there though.

11:00- Done with Geo, head to Language Lab to put in my required 50 minutes. Do some Lab Manual work, then watch Spanish movies. Pointless.

11:50- Gather with other people in front of the Algebra classroom. Catch up on who's getting the work, who of all our aspiring nurses/doctors passed yesterday's chemistry exam, and express Tigers pride.

12:00- Begin Algebra class. It's a running sequence of me figuring it out, then explaining it to two or three of the girls around me. They're great people, but that's the downside to being smart.

1:00- FREEDOM. Over to Mak where I do what I can to finish the paper and print everything out. IM TB and Henk, check Facebook. The person next to me holding a cellphone conversation in hushed tones. Very annoying. I looked to see if her comp had one of the "Cell Phones Prohibited" stickers on it, think of the irony, but no, hers was "This is a QUIET lab." It aaaaallmost works as well.

3:00- Kirkhof for lunch. On the way, I stop at the 2020 to ask about color copying. Appantly there is a copy room in the basement. I locate said copy room. They provide a valuable service, and are extrememly nice, but the people in there are crazy. High on something... Toner probably. Whatever it is, I want some. Got my ad copied 4x for $1, then lunch. Finally. The one flaw in my schedule is that I don't really have time to wash my hands before lunch. The fuss with the back pack is more than I like to take on for frivolousness, but when you get a greasy mouse and let your mind wander, you will find it is easy to become a germophobe. My lunch was, as usual, pizza and water. They have pretty good pizza at college- it always sounds good, and I have it two days out of the week. Today I managed to snag a slice that was almost $2.30 size. Pretty big, but all I eat from 8-8... No wonder I've lost 7 pounds.

3:40- Head to LSH and take my bathroom break. Then, with time left on my hands, I decide to see if I can get on the internet on the crappy computers they have lying around in LSH. Yes,you can. So I decide to start a blog post. Enter the messy paragraph. The keyboards are of an old mouseless variety, with a greasy spacebar and a backspace bar the size of a normal letter key. In the space where I am accustomed to hittin the space bar there is the /// key. Most disturbing. The moniter also has issues. It has a bubble distortion or somthing.

3:50- Walk around in circles until I find a staircase. Climb staircase and check the doors. It took a while, but I have learned that the double door entrance leads to the office hallway, and the open entrance leads to the classroom hallway, no matter where you are. Every thing else changes position daily, but not those doors. I've also learned that LSH is the home of Philosophy majors. They probably designed it.

4:00- Writing class. Same old... Read and trash an example paper, then read eachother's papers and critique. Freshmen are more insightful than you would think.

5:50- Exit down nearest stairs, then nearest door. Begin cross campus hike in the rain.

6:00- Enter Spanish class, usually I'm late but today I seem to be on time. Today we basically were just passing time. Divided into new groups- the only non-scary guys are in another group this time. Sniff. They talk about waterskiing, double sniff, since the chick they were talking to didn't waterski. Did group activities, watched Spanish news TV, played game. My team soooo dominated. We had seven, our nearest competition had three.

7:40- FREEEDOM!!!! As I'm waiting for the bus, one of the non-scary guys passes, and initites a few quick observations about the weather. Cold. A balm. Get on bus and read comments on my paper. Some good ideas, and someone appreciated my humor. Even more balm.

10:00- Now, after some supper and etc, I'm here blogging and occasionally glancing at the Tiger's game. Life is good. Sorry, I know this post is less than what I like to think of as my normal decent quality posts, but it's for posterity.

Of Thunderstorms

2006-10-02T13:28:00.001-04:00

I have always liked a good thunderstorm. Let us make that clear from the beginning. In summer especially, they have a way of clearing the air and giving the grass some zing. However, they can really mess with your routine if you are in school. I was sleeping peacefully, when all of a sudden I started dreaming that someone was saying, "This is what the Last Day will sound like." Then there was a long, loud and very real crash of rolling thunder. "Great," thought my sub-conscious, and went back to sleep. The storm, however, continued, and when I got up in the morning there it was. And when we left for the bus stop, it was still going at it, with some gorgeous lightning. Some poor innocents got into a tangle on the freeway, so it suddenly got bumper to bumper, and we had to re-adjust our route. I got off the bus in the pouring rain, popped up my umbrella, and straggled over to Padnos. And may I add this sidenote: The tile in Padnos is crazy slippery when wet. You'll be walking along one of the rugs, when all of a sudden you just loose traction. However, it is the stairs that you really need to watch out for. I've been on them three times, and so far the score is stairs: 3 me: 0. Very embarrassing.
Anyways, the storm picks up again during my Geo class, and booms away for the next couple hours. Nature has no pity for the poor blighters without umbrellas, yet another example of natural selection. Those people who have not the mental capacity to carry umbrellas will be killed off by pnemonia, which inevitably will occur when you get drenched and then sit in a 65 degree classroom. But during my Algebra class the storm broke, and now we have sun. It is a true example of CENSORED weather.

Of Thunderstorms

2006-10-02T13:28:00.000-04:00

Hugs

2006-09-26T17:54:00.000-04:00

Another You Tube gem:

As Promised

2006-09-23T12:49:00.000-04:00

So I'm sitting here in one of the classrooms at MAK, having taken the advice of a fellow blogger. There are no computer labs open on Saturday, apparantly, so this will have to do. Nothing to complain about except for the tour groups that keep coming by. All the wee high-schoolers keep staring at me like I'm a featured exhibit or something. Which is a nice lead-in to the first item in this sequel list of college experiences:

These people are BIG on tours. There's tours connected with everything. So far I have been on 3 general tours of the campus, 2 tours of the Art building, and 1 tour of the Language lab. This is not counting the self-guided walking tours of the Mak building and LSH. My brother just had his first tour last week, in connection with good 'ol TCTC. So, as you can see, tourism is a big industry here. Some (loosely estimated) 10% of all working students work as tour guides for the college. (No less than 5 seperate tours have passed by in the past hour.)
The computers, although admittedly several steps above any school-related computers I've ever used, have their idiosyncracies. When I try to log into my e-mail account in HH or Manutoo? I will type my login name then tab down to the password where I get three letters in and it bounces back up to the login blank. Very annoying. In HH the messenger icon is actually a "Research" link. Also, they don't seem to encourage using messenger, because you usually have to go through a bunch of hoops to get the sign-in link to work.
Flash Drives... wonderful little pieces of technology with an incredible potential to get lost. Imagine the fright of me as I check my e-mail yesterday and get this startling e-mail- Darseylo (notice the misspelling) Someone turned in a Flash Drive that may belong to you..." Sure enough, I had left the silly little thing in stuck in a computer, and some kind stranger (to whom I owe $50 worth of gratitude) turned it in to the techs. Lesson learned.
Bus rides. *Sardonic laugh.* Actually, I don't find them that bad, except for the highly complex protocol that one has to learn as one goes. I saw the most amazing sunset I've seen in a while coming home on the bus, and it's a great time to catch up on reading or *sigh* homework. If nothing else, there is usually a highly interesting conversation going on somewhere. This week, for example, I learned all about micro-brewing, and the alchoholic content of the different home-brewed beers served at some restaurant in Holland. It was *ahem* informative. And one morning the bus driver lady was feeling perky, and she told us corny jokes the whole way down, none of which I can remember. I've learned a lot about bus ettiquite, and I shall share it with you:

-First, the back doors don't open. You have to push them open. Staring at them and wondering when they will open is not very effective.

-There are times when you can put your backpack on the seat next to you, and times you can't. There are also times when you can put it next to you for a while, then pick it up when you reach the next stop. I am still working hard on figuring this out.

-You don't talk to anyone on the bus unless you know them, almost without exception.

-The Aisan bus driver brakes and accelerates very hard. You are warned.

- If you want to be garunteed a seat don't take 8, 9 or 10 o'clock classes, and don't go home until 8. If you want to be garunteed a place on the bus at all when heading to Allendale of a morning, get on at Pew.

-Chivalry is dead, and all's fair in love, war, and getting bus seats. If you are a girl, don't expect guys to let you get on first, to let you have the seat in a tie, or especially to offer you their seat. If you are a guy, don't worry about letting the girls get on first, giving them the seat in a tie, or offering them your seat. You should, however, always offer your seat to the little (or big) old ladies. That rule is still in effect.

One of my most unique bus experiences happened after I forgot to call my mom to pick me up one night. I got all the way to Pew before I remembered, so I had to wait there awhile. I sat down on the bench, and started to read a book when this tall black guy came walking up, smiled at me, and started a conversation, and he didn't seem to be trying to hit on me. We talked for 20 minutes, and it was pretty cool. Most people won't give you more than one-syllable answers, and that's only if you have a legitimate reason to be talking to them in the first place. It scared my mom, though. :P Actually, the bus stop at Pew is pretty safe- it's well lighted and there are always people there.

It's a great big world out there for the people-watchers among us, and I get a private smile or two a day from my observations. One of the guys in my Writing class looks and acts like my cousin Jeff- they are both small, have the same faces, this weird "earnestness" when they talk. The kicker? They both are named Jeff. The only big difference is that Writing class Jeff has a very long and girly pair of eyelashes.
The Writing Lab is a struggling Writing 150 student's paradise. They have free coffee, Kleenex's, hand sanitizer, pens and candy. Plus, they are very nice about your writing, and really do give you great suggestions. A very comfortable, homey kind of environment.
You keep noticing the same people in different places. I've seen at least 2 kids from my transitions class more than once, and I can't seem to go anywhere without seeing the Language Lab tech. (He is a true computer tech- has a full beard, neuteral plaid shirts, khakis and glasses.) I've seen him on the bus twice, in the lab (of course), getting pizza...
The pizza isn't that bad, and for less than $3 it's about all my cheap self can afford to eat there, along with soup and grilled cheese. So that's lunch, 2 times a week.
You learn how to go for long periods with little to no food. I'm only just starting to get hungry now at 1:30, and all I've had to tide me over is 2 cookies on this morning's field trip. Which was cool, but not really something to blog about, except that it pulled me out of bed at 5 in the morning on a Saturday.

But now, I can go home. There is a bus arriving at 1:40, and I must needs get on that bus or languish here for yet another hour. Fare thee well, dear readers.

Campus Life

2006-09-15T09:24:00.000-04:00

College is different. Yes, I've been told that, and I understood that going in, but boy howdy is college ever different. Overwhelming, probably not, but completely encompassing? Yes. It has a way of taking over your life that not even primary school had. Primary school was after your effort. College is playing for your entirety. To survive in college, you must accept it's way of life, or fight a very hard internal battle while pretending to accept it's way of life.

I'm sure I'll look back at this and say, "Spoken like a true, cowed, 3rd week freshman." Because that's what I am. Oh well. College is interesting though. I've been learning alot about crowds, and walking into rooms full of strangers. Here is a rundown of some of my typical college experiences:

I spent a week, minus a day, as an Art Major. I don't regret those 4 days of class. I now understand the reason for fine art, I made a friend I think I'll keep, and I learned a lot about myself- about what I'm not that I thought I was, and vice versa. Here are a couple of key quotes that helped me figure out that the Art Department and myself were not heading in the same direction:

"I just keep a pillow in my locker- some weekends you'll be here until 2 in the morning." ~ Student (I ride the bus, which stops at midnight. I would have had to sleep there.)
"Words, for art students, are not a very important language tool. I am going to teach you to think visually, and to communicate visually." ~Creative Problem Solving Prof (Reading is the love of my life.)
"You are art students. You are not here because you are going for big money. You are going to be poor, and you'll probably always going to be poor. You are doing this because you love art, and couldn't imagine life without it." ~Drawing Prof (Whaaaaat? Money is one of the ONLY reasons I'm going to college. I want a well-paying, respectable job, which Graphic Design was purported to be. I can imagine life without art. Very easily, and without much pain.)
"I don't want to see visual 'triteness'. No Hallmark moments. I don't want to see kittens in a basket. Well, okay, you can draw kittens in a basket- as long as they're dead." ~Drawing Prof
"We're a family. Being in the Art Department is a Mafia thing." ~Random Prof (All too true. It's Art students together vs. the world, but also Art students vs. eachother. And I am not a competitive person.)

There was more than just this, and 4 days was enough. I escaped with my life, plus 12 works of original 2D design and a toolbox full of expensive and unreturnable materials. Anyone need a set of French Curves? I only regret leaving behind the friend, the cool classrooms and all the easily-accesible microwaves. The Art Center was built to live in.

On Thursday I marched upon the Student Services building, and came out with a completely revamped schedule. Now I'm in Writing 150, Math 110, Geo 105, and Spanish 101. Life is busy, (I've been writing well-thought-out 2000 word papers all over the place.) but soooo muuuch better. I've never been higher than when I walked out of the counselor's office, and it was completely without drugs. I didn't stop cheering for the rest of the weekend.

Oddities of Campus Life:

-Comfort takes the place of cool. Backpacks are worn using both straps, and hoods are used in the rain. The exception being rolling backpacks. I tried it for a day. It was sufficient.

-It is pretty easy to tell freshmen apart from upperclassmen. There's just an aura- a filled-outness- about upperclassmen.

-You try as hard as possible not to sit next to anyone unless you know them.

-There is a reason nobody uses the "Exit to Outside" in the stairwell of Mak. It leads to a swamp.

-This is not confirmed, but I have strong suspicions that the architect of dizzying, circular LSH is the same dumb brick the hospital paid to put revolving doors in the main entrances, and to put no doors in at all between the old and new building. Senseless. Just senseless. What did Patient Transport and Writing 150 students ever do to him????

More irregularities on college life and riding the bus to come as events warrent.

Carefree Highway

2006-09-09T09:15:00.000-04:00

YEEEEEEEEHHAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!! I am, FINALLY, licensed to drive. As far as I know, I'm the last person in my graduating class to get my license, but oh well. I suppose the chagrin will wear off someday. For some unfathomable reason, I was not too nervous. My stomach decided to take up knitting for a couple hours, but my hands weren't shaky. I was granted 6 points on the preliminary parking torture, and quickly accumulated six points. ($%^&* parallel parking. I could #$%^& parallel park last night, in the dark, without the helpful pylons.)With this not so auspicious start, we began the test. Nothing too serious- the instructor and my dad had a running conversation going about Boeing's new 800 passenger Dreamliner, which her son is apparently an engineer for, the sad decline of complimentary food on airplanes, and also various accidents that occured last night. Cheering and heartening topics all. It all went pretty good, give or take a few missing left shoulder checks, an "almost" stop at a blinking red left turn, and a rather hot entrance to an exit ramp curve. I accumulated only 8 out of 25 possible points, the lady said that at the beginning she had me figured for a perfect test, (I think she says that to everyone) and the parting was made in mutual cordiality, plus one driver's license certificate. Glad to have that done, of course. However, it opens up a whole new area of worry. Do I want the Javelin, or the Lamborghini?
Eiher way, the songs of Gordon Lightfoot are the ULTIMATE road trip music, particularly Carefree Highway. Tied for second are the Beach Boys, Keola Beamer, Lefte Banke, and the Ventures Christmas album. (This last, of course, is seasonal.)

Welcome to our fair village. No StAr SyStEm. Village. StAr SyStEm.

2006-08-30T20:01:00.000-04:00

Yo! Dorothy! You ain't in Kansas anymore. You in college. You also in the Art Department. And guess what that means, suckah. Yeah.

#1: Your world now consists only of your bedroom, the city bus, the far corner of the university bookstore, and Cadwallader Art Center. If the art people had their way, your world wouldn't also consist of the LS Hall and your writing class, but it does.

#2: Your time is now devoted solely to homework. Yep, that means that the Friday you thought you had off. Uh-uh. You're still gonna be bussin in and punchin' your 9-5. Saturdays too, seeing as you insist on observing Sundays traditionally. We'll have to cure that eventually.

#3: You don't know anyone in the Art Center, and anybody you do know is taking classes all the way across campus, and you'll never see them.

#4: Your professors swear, and paint pictures that make a mockery of the Bible. Also, you'll have to learn the Art professor's language.

#5: All those "Mariner Late Nights", excercise classes, and anything else recreational? Forget it. Oh, and those long "breaks"? They're for catching up in your writing class, if you aren't too far behind in art. Eventually you'll end up living and even sleeping in the Art building, unless you make a friend who has a nearby apartment who will let you use their couch.

So... what does this mean for the blog? I suspect that I won't be able to post a whole lot, but I am not quitting blogging. Even if it is just linking to YouTubes until something better comes along, the Gunfighter shall prevail!!!!!!

Cabaret...

2006-08-26T19:12:00.000-04:00

There's a Murphy's Law out there that says "If you have just learned the meaning of an obscure word that you could live a whole life without knowing about, but somehow found out about it and wondered halfheartedly what it was, it is going to pop up at frequent intervals for the rest of the month." Take cabaret, for instance... I first came across this word in the paper, as part of the self-proclaimed description of some little band that was going to open for the Panic! At The Disco show. "Cabaret-rock," they called themselves, and apperently were trying to mix classical into it or something, which heretofore has only worked in metal opera. Anyways, I asked myself what "cabaret" meant, got the reply of "I don't know," and dropped the issue. Well, as I, a couple days later and out of sheer boredom and laziness, was thumbing through the hinter pages of the Your Life section of the newspaper, I came across a review of a play. Can you guess the name of this play? Very good- "Cabaret" is correct. From this review, I learned that cabarets are some specific form of bar/speakeasy sort of thing, with dancing, performances and whatnot. The cabaret mentioned in particular being of the "located in pre-Nazi quickly becoming Nazi Germany" variety. And it came as little suprise to me, a week or so later, that when I looked up "beatboxing" on You Tube, one of the titles caught my eye. Taylor Aldredge, performing at Hunterdon Central Caberet. And I make no apologies for sticking You Tubes into most of my recent posts. I happen to think that You Tube is almost as useful and revolutionary as sliced bread. Except it's meat and drink to the sense of humor, not to the corpus.

One more Right Brothers Video

2006-08-15T16:44:00.000-04:00

I had to post this... just had to. So ignore what I said in the last post about scrolling down to see "I Want To Live". Here it is.

Here fishy fishy fishy!`

2006-08-15T14:45:00.000-04:00

I went fishing last night, with my brother, my dad, and my dad's friend, on the Applethorn River. Dad's friend lives on the river, and it's been something of an annual tradition of ours since Dren got bit by the fishing bug. Being as it's a river, the fishing and fish are somewhat different than what I'm used to. Your hook and sinker are always bumping against rocks, so I have trouble telling what is a strike and what is just a blinkin' rock. Also, you have trees and snags and a current to work with. All this notwithstanding, we have a great time. Last night was pretty much the greatest fishing I've ever witnessed. Darren pulled 4 smallmouth out just from the dock as we were loading up. Then we just crossed the river, illegally tied up at someone elses dock, said hello to the neighbors and proceeded to pull another 20 smallmouth out from the immediate area. One could conclude that they were hungry. After a while we decided that it was just too easy, and we had to actually do some fishing, so we headed down the river, catching just enough fish to make it interesting. We even got a totally random bluegill and a couple catfish. Catfish are cool. They are grey with pink and black spots, and their tails look like shark tails... Seriously sweet. The crowning glory of the trip, however, was earned by Dad, who bears the distinction of having caught a duck and a nice smallmouth in one cast. The duck was of the dim-witted strain of mallards, and was under the delusion that our bait and lures were actually bread. It had been follwing us for a ways, darting hither and thither after our lines. Dad, in blissfull ignorance of the determination of hungry ducks, cast a lure out very close to it. The duck sprinted over, and dove for the lure, coming up with it in his mouth. After a few moments of close scrutiny, the duck realized that the organic whole grain hoagie bun he thought he had was actually some low grade environmentally hazardous plastic and rusy metal hooks. He spat it out in distain. However, a bass saw no reason to pass up some perfectly good junk food, and promptly went for it. He let go just before Dad got him to the boat, though. There would be a lesson here, but the ducks apparently weren't interested in lessons learned, as they kept following us. The evening closed with me getting a nice cut when my lure snagged and the line I was holding suddenly and forcefully wrapped around my finger, causing a paper-cut like wound around my finger, from the edge of my nail to the edge of my nail.

Now, you may be wondering why I wrote a post about fishing. It is rather unlike me, and rather like my brother. Well, I did it, ladies and gentlemen, to provide the backstory for the following paragraph. The real post:

Last night, as my dad, brother and I were returning home from a fishing trip, we were listening to the Laura Ingram show. It's a really great show, and my Dad prefers it in some ways to Rush, Hannidy and Savage. Only problem is, it plays at 8-9/10 or so at night, and who listens to talk shows at that ridiculous hour? Anyways, we (happily) were listening tonight. One Tammy Bruce was filling in, and at some part of her show, she said she was going to play a song I had never heard of before. "Bush Was Right" by The Right Brothers. This is what we heard.

All I have to say is: FINALLY!!!! People can rock out without compromising their political beliefs!!!!! Right Wing Punk Rock!!! WHOOOHOOO!!!!!!!

Catch more of their songs on their MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/therightbrothers The only good MySpace I've ever seen. Scroll down to find the "I Want To Live" video. You'll cry. LINK TO 'EM AND SPREAD THE WORD!!!!!!

50th Post

2006-08-10T11:40:00.000-04:00

Egad! It's the 50th post already. There are many sentimental and reflective things I could say to mark this somewhat auspicious occasion, but I'll need them for the upcoming 1-year anniversary so the 50th post will instead be marked by the new header and link updates. The header was a pretty big victory for me, I couldn't find the piece of code specified in the tutorials. Now that I've got it figured out, I hope to change the header every now and then when I find cool pics. I also have my links organized and updated. My muses are on vacation at present, but if you want to hear about how my summer is going check out Dren's exensive report on our week at the cottage. He spent a week writing it, and would appreciate feedback.

DaDaDa

2006-07-07T19:03:00.000-04:00

This is the most recent offering from The Dormitory Boys, champion lipsynchers... (link to your right). In honor of the World Cup, I made a slight effort and figured out how to put in a YouTube vid.

If ya 'aint Dutch, ya 'aint much, ja?

2006-06-14T21:59:00.000-04:00

They fight the establishment, they fight for honesty, and most of all, they fight for every last penny that the local grocery stores try to sneak past them by way of inept cashiers. Their life is one of clipping coupons and poring over advertisements which they use to keep a running talley of prices at competing stores. They fill out rebates, demand rainchecks, and make sure that each slip of paper end up among the redeemed. These people enter a grocery store with list in hand, eyes scanning the aisles like a radar- ready at any minute to launch an assault upon a hapless "Buy One Get One Free" special or a fat, juicy clearance rack. They will not be tempted by shiny new products or spiffy packaging, and it is beneath them to glance at any sale less than 50%. Unless, of course, they have to buy the sale item regardless- then it turns into a double bonus, advance three spaces. Add a coupon and you get to roll again. These people are Dutch. No, they are not from the "fatherland"- some may not even have Dutch ancestors. But Dutch they are, and the preceding description details only their strategy and tactics. Even the best laid plans of coupons and sales can go awry when they come up against a courteous-if-distant cashier and his/her deadly scanner gun.
Yes, folks, this is when the action really starts. As they approach the checkout lane, they pause for a moment in consideration of what they are about to do. From here on out, it is all improv. There is no way of knowing what sale isn't going to ring up, what coupon will end up being expired- all one can do is brace oneself and put on a brave front. They carefully shape their mouths into a pleasant, bland, "I'm just your average supermarket customer" expression. (No need to tip the cashier off about their true identities as heroes of the underpaid and overcharged.) When their turn in line comes, they smile blandly at the cashier, who smiles just as blandly back at them, and makes some trite statement, usually "Hello, do you have our charge card yet?" or "Hello, have you found everything you need?" There are varying answers to these questions, but a "Yes" usually ends up being the safest. As the cashier begins to process their purchases, our heroes tune with all five senses, hoping to score with the early-detection tecnique. It is the mark of a well-trained and discliplined person to notice errors on the scanner screen while still keeping a polite conversation going with the cashier, and it happens rarely. Usually the errors are only detected after they have been printed out on sales slips. This is when the Dutch blood of these people begins to boil in their veins, and the blood of their non-Dutch friends starts to run cold in embarassment.
Case in point:
During the last Olympics, the Coca-Cola Company ran a promotion where they made a code for each event, then stuck these codes onto their products and gave out three free codes per day. You entered the code, and if the U.S. won a medal of any kind in that event, you won 5 free 2-Liters. My Accounting teacher tipped us off one day in class, and my family was, of course, interested. We ended up with 75 free 2-Liters of any Coke product. Not bad, eh? So just recently the coupons came trickling in, proving once and for all that it wasn't a scam. I, along with a Dutch aquaintance, went to the store to get come Coke for my grad party. You can only use one coupon at a time, so the Dutch had us split up going through the checkout. This was a mistake, as I am quite inexperienced at haggling with cashiers, and the cashier, in her turn, had never before encountered one of the coupons. She stared at it, called over an associate to verify its validity, then tentitively punched it in. It took off $1.75 off. "Okaaaaay- but the coupon says it should be free." She stared some more, then got an idea. She punched it in again. Another $1.75 off. She continued punching while I shuffled my feet and whistled an innocent tune. When she finished, she asked me for $1.75 plus tax. This was unexpected as I had bought were the 5 "free" 2-Liters, and here is where my inexperience shone through. Instead of arguing the "free" point, I handed over the money, grabbed my bags, and rejoined the Dutch. Upon learning of my story, she was incensed. She thrust her purchases at me, grabbed my reciept, and led me to customer service where I stood sheepishly while she worked out a solution to the $1.75 (apparently my cashier hadn't punched the coupon 5 times), and put in her complaint about the Produce people not cutting open watermelons for customers. Lesson learned and money reclaimed, we headed for home.

Commencement

2006-06-10T01:13:00.000-04:00

I just graduated. Like, oh, 3 hours ago. It is strange to have graduated- strange because I do not feel strange. Just like I've been to a party, stayed out late, gorged, and am crashing at home. There was no tingling, no earthquake- just bright lights and royal blue gowns. It had much the same feeling as the Christmas Programs of old. Except the stage was much more state-of-the-art. It made one feel like he was participating in some choice piece of drama or somesuch. We even had a rehearsal, which was really a rather discouraging session. However, the actual ceremony went well, except for the attempt to combine the graduates, band and audience in a rendition of America the Beautiful. Each party had different ideas on the timing of the song. It got so bad, we were almost singing it as a round. Such is the curse of the school band though. Music has become stagnant in the old hallowed halls of the PC. Which I will never be in again as a student. Which, given a shade more contemplation, will probably get me sniffly. Although the school has done little to deserve a claim on my affections, it does. I imagine that the feeling is the same as that which people feel for their old junker cars- they miss them a little, even though they broke down every 3 miles, didn't have AC, and could only get the Spanish radio station. It's not about the defects- which are legion- but about the people, and the memories, and those wonderful old books in the school library. Funny how that works- how you can hate something so much while you have it, and then miss it when you don't. Defies logic. But now- BRING ON SUMMER!!!!!!!

More "footage"...

2006-06-03T22:53:00.000-04:00

Mis primas bonitas...

This shot depicts a favorite activity at Banquet- forming organized gangs and going around shooting at people.

I put this picture up because it is a picture that none of the Yearbook students could get- Herb and Skeet, well dressed and with pleasant expressions. Note that one them is even looking at the camera. Truely this is an image to be prized.

Walms always has a poofy dress... look at the wingspan!!!

And again...

Awwwwwwwwww... The light was just perfect while we took the outdoors pics. I was able to catch the elusive "sweetlight."

The brains behind many successful operations at PCHS, posing with a former blogger that I got to meet for the first time, bringing the total count of bloggers I know to 3.

And Blogger once again refused to upload any more pictures... But it did better than last time, so perhaps we'll have worked up to a complete cure by the time I get back to the Washington pictures.

Shimmering Reflections

2006-05-29T20:40:00.000-04:00

Banquet was... nice? Fine? Pretty good? Something like that. Congrats to the Juniors for pulling of a Banquet that definitely trumps last years. Also for not giving me a book as a Senior gift- way to think outside the box with the sketchpad. How did you get the pumpkin seeds for Herb and Skeet to pass with the Senora?

Anyways, selfishly moving back to me and my ongoing problems... A row of beads on my dress popped off 10 minutes before my date showed up, so there was a mad scramble to get those sewn back on. Then, we got pictures and the awkward corsage thing over with, got on the highway, and promptly got off the wrong exit. No big problem since I knew the area fairly well, we got there in good time- second people there actually. More people began to arrive, and compliments were spread around like fertilizer in a cornfield. It amused me that of all the lovely things I had on, I got the most compliments for the flower I stuck in my hair. Not the brand new ridiculously high-priced dress, nor the jewelry I bought specially to match it. Nope, it was the cheap sequin flower. It barely matched the rest of me, and it wasn't even meant to be a hair piece-it came on a skirt I bought a year ago. Sigh. Such is life, I suppose. But oh well- apparently it looked nice, and that's all that counts.

Along with the compliments came the hugs and various photo ops, the fruits of which I will present you with here.

I pity the people who sit across from me at Banquet- I take bad pictures of them. But it's their fault. If they would only wait for me and my stupid slow camera before they broke their poses...

And that's all the pics that Blogger is gonna let me upload today. For some reason it just ain't working. So enjoy this for now, there'll be more later.

Intermission

2006-05-26T14:44:00.000-04:00

Banquet goes down in 5 hours, and I'm getting pretty nervous, as well as excited. Despite being forced to get an expensive dress, destroying my nice freshly manicured thumb, the Big Seating Chart Fight of '06 and having a serious communication problem with my date, who asked late enough to leave me rather unprepared, it's gonna be a good time. 'Cause there are positives too- my dress is black (yay!), my other 9 nails are nice, I got all my jewelry and shoes for a grand total of $7.50, the Fight is 5 hours from being ended, and the missing communication is going to give us something to talk about in the car. Plus, my hair seems to be coming along well- it's being done as I type. It's gonna be awkward, awkward, awkward. But fun, hopefully. Aaaack... I think I'm going bobby pin crazy.

Day the First

2006-05-10T16:28:00.000-04:00

So, the long-awaited D.C. posts begin... The first fact of note is that I did not sleep at all Sunday night. Nope, not a wink. When the family went to bed, I changed into my travelling clothes and worked all night/morning on a drawing for my college portfolio. (Which ended up being destroyed by my brother and my cat 7 days later. Even so, I was accepted yesterday!!! :D) Anyways, I was feeling tired but not sleepy at 3:00, which set the tone for the rest of the week somewhat. Anyways, we all congregated at school, heaped our stuff in the parking lot and sat around hugging our pillows and trying not to freeze to death.

Then we all had devotions and the bus came... Brooke and I got rather bad seats at first, with only a bunch of food seperating us from the chaperones, although that didn't really bother us, we were just sleeping anyways. Well, trying to. The bus was suprisingly quiet for the first 3 hours though. One of the coolest things about a long trip in the early morning is that you get to see the sunrise...

Everyone gave up on sleep at about 6, so things got noiser. We hit up a rest stop on the turnpike, which was really nice... Panera for breakfast. They really have classy rest stops in Ohio and Indiana. Travelers tip #1. We switched drivers in Pennsylvania, so enter Steve, and adios to Charlie, who was a rather questionable driver. Steve is about all you can ask for from a bus driver, really. I'm glad they hired him again. Pennsylvania has always been a favorite state to drive through- where else do highways curve and go up and down? So exiting. Plus, it was the destination of my first road trip, and it was the last trip for my dad's old Javelin. He had sold it to some guy in Orbisonia, PA, and was hand delivering it. I got to ride up front in the carseat the whole way, and I don't remember it at all... *sniff*.

Well, on with the subject at hand. The drive through PA was all gray trees and purple redbuds, and after several hours and about 5 runs of my Smashmouth collection we got to Shenandoah. It's gorgeous, and I wish I would have been with my family for this and not my class- not all of 'em are nature lovers, and when you hear people complaining about something like this:

It makes you kind of sad. Oh well, can't expect everyone to get the same rush out of nature as me... :P Anyways, cool pics no? Sorry, but I'm going to try to keep people pics out, to foil all the stalker types that frequent the blog. Lol. Let me know if you're foiled, so I can chalk up the victory. Time constraints force us to end this post for now, but hold your breaths... Next stop- Derek and Derek and the Luray Caverns!!!

HI FROM WASHINGTON DC!!!

2006-04-20T23:07:00.000-04:00

My collections of pics coming shortly... I have over 150. :D

A Revalation Regarding Reviling Reveille

2006-04-13T17:11:00.000-04:00

I am firmly convinced that it is no coincidence that "revile" and "reveille" are so similar. One could even persuade me that the similarities are the result of the direct manipulation of a cunning ancient wordsmith, who knew that the time was coming when so many citizens of the English-speaking world would need these two words to form a profound soul's-cry that used alliteration.

"I REVILE REVEILLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Buh-bye now y'all...

2006-03-29T22:03:00.000-05:00

Well... your local gunfighter is going off on a long-distance hiatus for a week. Just so nothing happens, I am leaving dear little Ghandi here to keep an eye on things. And I am proud of me- I didn't post a beach picture. ^^

Ironic, isn't it...

2006-03-27T19:33:00.001-05:00

...How you can ace a class for 6 marking periods, without trying, then loose it all when it really matters. @#$%^&* A-. Now I get to take the exam. *Yay.* Maybe this will teach me to be alert, but I'm not betting on it. Would you?

Ironic, isn't it...

2006-03-27T19:33:00.000-05:00

Darselo's Infallible Top Ten Signs of Spring

2006-03-17T21:21:00.000-05:00

You Know It's Spring When:

Seed Catalogs begin to arrive, and the father figure and I cook up plots for the upcoming dahila season. This year, after a two year struggle, we have finally secured my namesake dahlia. Hy Darseylo. Spelt wrong, but I since so very rarely see my name on anything I shall ignore this annoyance.
All winter clothes hit the clearance racks, and the summer's trends begin to appear.
The search for a Banquet dress is on. A perilous quest indeed, for the dress must have attached sleeves, high back, and be at least remotely in style. Last year was a stylin' $25 dollar victory. This year's model is looking to be more expensive, but we have a $20 off coupon and if we wait a while longer there may be a 20% discount.
First crocus blooms- March 11
Tulips and Daffodils start sprouting.
You know fo' shizzle where you are going to be on Spring Break. For me, this is FLORIDA with the galpals!!!!!!! Really awesome, b/c it's my first trip to Florida, but a little weird b/c my parents won't be along...
All of a sudden the Washington D.C. trip, such a distant date for the past 4 years, draws nigh...
The Pussywillow tree in the back" fourth" blooms. It has grown (as trees are wont to do) over the years, so getting the buds is much more of a challenge than it used to be. The tree-climbing and ladder wrestling are worth it though, for as Christopher Robin might say, they are "So cute and fuzzy!!!!!!"
Dren hangs up the snowboard and hauls out the scooters.
You almost hit the first two robins of spring because they are fighting in the middle of the road at 6:00 in the morning.

More whacked upness...

2006-03-11T19:04:00.000-05:00

Last week began with some major excitement... On Monday I came home to find that my church was on fire. Which was, understandably, rather disturbing. From what I was able to gather, it was an electrical problem, something about heat building up but the breaker not shorting out, so it ended up catching some of the wood or something on fire. The consistory room, which doubled as my class' chatechism room, is gone, and the rooms directly above and below it are pretty much toast too. (Above it was a room holding some of the organ pipes, and not much else, and below it is either the ladies bathroom and coatroom, or the boiler room... Not exactly sure which one is right below.) I am really bummed about that chatechism room, because it was deeeeelux. We had uber comfortable leather chairs, and the coolest varigated green carpet, with elegant drapes to match. And there was a beautiful white piano, with lots of scrollwork and filigree. Everything in the building suffered smoke damage, but thankfully the stained glass windows all made it unscathed. They are really beautiful although they do have images of Christ on them. The whole building is really old and really cool- the doors are all huge, and they all have old-fashioned spider key locks. There were a whole bunch of books when we first came, lots of really nice old Schoolastics, which I wanted for my collection but didn't know how to ask for. There also is this giant cupboard of sheet music, that nobody has had time to look over yet. I have yet to know if it made it through the fire. It might not have, because the cupboard is really close to the boilder room and the bathroom... All in all, there is about $150,000 worth of damage, and we're going to be out of the building for 6 months. Right now we're in the Seminary, which is a bit of an awkward fit, for multiple reasons, although much better than the school gym. When the service ended, there were 3 deer grazing outside, which was pretty cool. Then we had chatechism, and my class had to make do with a hallway. It's one of those things that you think will never happen to you, so it is really hard to believe that my church is all sooty and burned right now. Can't get my mind around it.
Anywho, if that wasn't enough, the next day a convict escapes from the jail a few blocks away from our school, so we go under a lockdown and have to wait for the police to escort us out to the buses. There were helicopters everywhere, and a whole lot of hulabaloo. It was Tuesday, which is my hospital volunteer day, so I get there really late. Business as usual, I go out on break with Brooke and Deer blah blah blah. When I get back, I find out that my department is on lockdown, because they thought that Odius, the son of Nel (the convict) was in the hospital. Kind of freaky because I was out and about for most of the lockdown. Then, when we're moving again, the patients I bring down had had to wait for half an hour, and were minorities, so they had a few bees in their bonnet. Somehow I got things smoothed over, and in the end we parted friends.
Monday a church fire, and Tuesday a convict... I had some reservations about taking on Wednesday, but that was the end of all the goat roping for that week. Very thankful to have been spared through all that- it could have been a lot worse.

Down dooby do down down...

2006-03-10T23:42:00.000-05:00

Finally, I have the time for a really truely post... Lot's of catchup work to do, so let's start with the Olympics. Overall impression: Dissapointing. Why?

NBC did a less than stellar job. They have this thing for dividing up events, and then mixing and matching the pieces, so maybe two ski runs here, 15 minutes of skating there... This means that those of us who tape the Olympics must either watch the whole 3 hours, or use up a ton of tape and live with all the commercials. Also, they pared down their medals ceremony coverage to just showing the national anthem. I kinda would like to see the athletes getting their medals, which, after all, is the point of the medals ceremony.
There weren't any real stellar American heroes, outside of Joey cheek. Nobody to really root for. I thought maybe we had one in Chad Hendrick, but then there was that whole Shanni Davis thing. Then maybe Shaun White, until he declared his love for Sasha, which was weird enough, then went home and messed around with Lindsey Lohan or whatever... My favorite athletes of the games were Shizuka Arakawa (women's figure skating gold medalist) and the figure skaters from Georgia and Turkey. All foreigners.
I've been looking forward to these Olympics for 4 years, and back at Salt Lake I was wondering what I would be like now, and what life would be like. Some expectations weren't met, and it just makes me feel old. Something I used to think was so far away is now done and gone. By the next Olympics I will be almost graduated from college. Man I'm old. I can still remember a teeny bit of the first Olympics I watched, at my Grandma Putter's farm, and WOW, have there been changes. That house has been sold for years now, and that TV saw it's end a while back as well. It was one of the kind where you turn a knob to change channels. So yeah, those kinds of feelings don't mix well with the Olympic spirit either... oh well. Vancouver is coming, and we have Bejing to mix things up a bit in 2 years. Wonder what I'll be like as a college grad? Hm...

Wild nights, wonderful mornings...

2006-03-02T16:04:00.000-05:00

These are some around the house shots of the lovely ice we had after a day of really whacked out weather...

This is just the sunrise, all the white stuff in the trees is ice...

A little closer...

Even closer...

And closer still...

I miss Mayberry...

2006-03-01T16:47:00.000-05:00

Don Knotts

July 21, 1924 - Febuary 24, 2006

Just wanted to wish a fond farewell to one of the greatest actors ever, Don Knotts my favorite "G-man." So long Barney, Mr. Chicken, Bert, Theodore, Mr. Furley, Coach Venner, Sherrif Kid and all the rest that I'll have to meet posthumously. It's was nice knowing you.

Another New Policy

2006-01-28T23:43:00.000-05:00

Another *New Policy*... Comment moderation is hereby and hereafter not going to be used on this blog. Word verification will be used instead, to keep down my non-existent-but-probably-waiting-in-the-wings spam. Thank-you.

Why'd ya have to go and make things so complicated?

2006-01-28T16:25:00.000-05:00

Ahhh... big sigh of relief. Half of my pre-college stress is OVVVVEEEERR!!!!! BOOYAH! I got my scholarship competition over with today, and while I probably wasn't the brightest crayon in the Presidential Scholarship box, I at least have $4200 which is somewhere around 2/3 of tuition, so I'm good. I'll probably get a little more than that, although I'm not counting on a full ride since I'm not a minority from la Ciudad de Motors. We had to write an essay, and I chose the death-penalty question. I think I did ok, although in retrospect I realize I didn't come back to the original issue in my conclusion. My content was pretty good though. The interviews also went pretty good, I think. I found out that they will pay me to proofread and critique people's writing... *Evil laugh* I probably will never be a really good writer, I mean REALLY good, but I can tell what is good writing and what is not. I've got an eye for it too. When I read books I notice when they forget their end quotes. Drives me nuts. So I came out of the whole shebang a lot more optimistic about college, $3000 richer, and a new appreciation for Italian dressing. And soooo much less stress. I am not going to do one more scholarship essay until next year. So there.

Things I'd Like To Say

2006-01-27T21:22:00.000-05:00

This is a great blog post on a Christian view of Brokeback Mountain/Homosexuality. I love it when people say what you would like to be said. It saves you from having to say it yourself, which results in a much shorter post.

Return to Normal...

2006-01-21T21:34:00.000-05:00

Finally... January is once again January, and not some late-February nightmare. It's been melty for a few weeks now, and it is weather I absolutely hate. That early-spring weather, when everything is brown, muddy, squashed and ugly. You can't snowboard, and it's a long time before any sane person thinks of tubing and skiing or hauling out the trampoline. We have an unprecedented 6 crocuses popping up already, deceived by the mild weather, and doomed to frost-burned leaves for their stupidity seeing as last night we got a nice 6 inch dump of snow. Of course, it didn't happen during school, and it's already getting melty again, but we sure had a glorious day of snowboarding. It was an early Saturday for me, up at eight, but there was a lovely sunrise, especially with all the snow.
We got to Artillery around 9, and arrived just in time to walk in with the Marines and the ski teams. It was cool but kind of weird having the Marines there. A lot of them were just learning, and it was surreal hearing announcements like "All Marines who would like a lesson, please report to the small hill, your instructors are waiting for you." and "Gunner Sgt. Somebody, please report to the main office." I did my bit to support the troops- I showed a struggling soldier an easier way to walk with one foot strapped in your snowboard.
Our group ended up being Manuel, Dorito, Crispy, TB, Rinita and myself, and later we had a rendevous with JR. Because of the big snow, there was a lot of powder, the most I've ever been priveledged to board on actually. About two runs in we suffered our first casualty, a "skis meet spine" incident that sent Dorito home early. This put a dent in the day somewhat, and I believe we are still waiting for a day when he goes home with body AND snowboard in one piece. Anyways, Manuel and Crispy had a jolly ole time running around shirtless and talking in accents. I must confess to taking part in the accents a little.
It was Rinita's second time out, and I am happy to say that she's getting a lot better. Next time you'll have it! Learning to snowboard takes three trips to the hill, it's one of Murphy's Laws. One to learn the art of falling on the posterior, one to learn the art of falling on the cranium, and one to learn the art of snowboarding.
I tried a couple jumps, but with all the confusion I never got around to trying a 180 like I promised myself. I did learn, however, that something must be done about the lump in my boot. My right boot has this strange bulge in the liner that rubs against that bumpy bone on your ankle. This makes walking, turning and, eventually, so much as standing on the foot a painful experience. The closest comparison would be constantly tapping a fresh bruise. I also lost all my calluses since we last had snow, so that didn't help any. I'm a bit of a pansy about stuff like that, so I probably did more than my share of complaining.
TB was nursing a sprained and re-sprained ankle, which she said did ok, so that's all good. She also found a pair of gloves that stay dry. They were only $5, but I will still vouch for my "mitten exteriors, glove interiors" as being the best option.
Anyways, we wrapped it up around four, and I actually got some reading done. The Flying Carpet, by Richard Halliburton. Old fashioned, but rather interesting, especially since it's a true story. It's a sort of journal of a man and his friend who just take of in his plane one day, and go wherever their whims lead. Something that isn't feasible today, unfortunately. Red tape... everywhere there is red tape. Phooey on civilization.

Brother Blog

2006-01-20T14:12:00.000-05:00

This post is to announce the start of my brother Dren's blog. When I get a chance I shall put it on my favorite blogs list, but until then, this is the link. We also are considering a blog on the infamous Clyde, but I believe that shall be taken down, so read the single post while you can! Dren's blog is advertised as "Mixture of words of wisdom, crazy adventures of friends and me, and random humor" A bit of false advertising on the "wisdom" part, but understated on the "crazy adventures" part, so it balances, I suppose. Things just seem to happen to that boy. Anyways, grammatical errors aside he can be pretty funny in a sugar-high sort of way so it's a fun read.

Speaking of which

2006-01-19T18:35:00.000-05:00

These are the pics I made last year in my Graphic Design class at TCTC... If these don't look that great to you, bear in mind I made them at 7 in the morning, never a time of great alertness for me.

This is half of a rollover button. It was supposed to be a butterfly, but the wings just aren't quite right. I was using a tutorial and everything, but oh well.
This is a collage I made for Coogi, my Dutch penpal.
This was the last piece I made that semester, and the biggest thing I accomplished was getting the guy who sat next to me to talk to me. I sat next to him for a whole semester and he didn't say anything to me, outside of the odd "Hi" or "Excuse me". He asked me how I got the light to "come out at you"... Flabbergasted, I explained about radial zoom and blurs...
This is just a posterization of a pic of one of our band members that I thought came out really cool.

This was a rollover button for my final website. The deal was you would put your mouse over the first image, and *poof* goes the snowglobe. I probably spent more time on this than any other picture I made. The tutorial was written for people w/ a lot more skills than me. :P

This was my original layout, supposed to be a bulliten board sort of thing, but just didn't work out. I went with a much simpler plain black model.

This was going to be the websites splash page... The tack and notepaper was going to be a recurring theme.

Speaking of Which

2006-01-19T16:40:00.000-05:00

This is a collage I did featuring Olympic Champion Alexei Yagudin.
And one of his mentoree, Brian Joubert, who is always blurry in his photos.

This is half of a rollover button I made for my website. I had to hand draw that feather, which got rather aggravating. Another button, for the friends page.

Our class had a band, so one day we went down to Skills' auditorium and they had a bit of a jam. For five minutes they actually had something going too. Then we came back and had to get into groups and make a band website. This was my group's layout. I messed up a bit in the chrome around the speaker, I could make it a lot smoother now.

This cute little thing is not only cute, but functional and educational as well. It is a "creative color wheel." One of my earlier works.

Mindless drivel is the world's greatest blood pressure reducer.

2006-01-19T13:09:00.001-05:00

Ahh... Freedom. Long weekend, pizza fresh out of the oven, watching Red Green and using absolutely ZERO brain muscles. Lovely.

Mindless drivel is the world

2006-01-19T13:09:00.000-05:00

Ode to Anger

2006-01-17T12:36:00.000-05:00

I would be feeling just about as low as I've ever been right now, if I wasn't too busy battling exams to have emotions. Two people I was really starting to like a lot and get comfortable with walked out of my life forever this week. No more humor from Knave, and AE is another fond memory. I don't have time to mourn- any other time I would be crying as I write this.
I was up until 12:30 last night, and it was straight studying from 4:30. The worst is yet to come. Bible is a half-a-binder plus notes nightmare. I get about 5 pages of typed notes per QUIZ. This is oooh... lets see... 8 quizzes counting the quizzes on daily devotions. 40 pages. Plus the exam is going to be all essay questions he said. That's really not fair, because I won't have any fingers left to take my Government exam with. It takes a while to regrow appendages, but I guess school doesn't realize that.
I also recieved my very first official school discipline today- 3 tardies from Artie. I know that it's fair and square, but I wish he would have realized that Powerschool is a place to let students know if they have tardies, and I wish Mr. Buzz would change the break bells to something that can be heard over a dull roar. I never hear any bells until the minute bell, and nobody else does either. If they give me a discipline essay I will bring these points up. I'm barely even mad though, which will alert Brooke and Devious to the fact that I really am out of it. Last time this almost happened I freaked.
I have discovered a pretty good temporary cure: take a spoonful of cold hot fudge every ten minutes until crisis is over. But I must bring this little pity-party of mine to a close, as I've got things to do, specifically re-learn Indirect and Direct Objects in Spanish, and commit to memory each and every stem-changer verb, in past and present tense, along w/ indivdual spelling exceptions. I take this challenge on armed with Trident Cinnamon Gum and Keola Beamer. Will I have the victory? El tiempo voy a decir. Feel free to do your own venting in a comment- I notice the numbers have been dwindling.

Why the Bad Boys are the Good Boys...

2006-01-13T16:25:00.000-05:00

First off, let me direct you to a very funny blog I happened to spot on the "Recently Updated" thing... The Dormitory Boys are two Chinese guys lipsynching popular songs. They have got the moves down, let me tell you. And quite the fan base.

And now for the subject at hand. The Detroit Pistons whipped San Antonio at home the other day, by a healthy, dominating 15 points. Incidentally, they beat them by 15 points on Christmas as well. This was a very important game for them, as it was more or less a foreshadowing of what would happen in the Playoffs should the two teams meet again.
Good Signs:

Sheed was hot, but kept himself under control. No techs, and he didn't foul out.
Wallace is back to double didget rebounds.
It was a low-scoring game, which means that the Pistons more or less had their own way. Their style of play focuses on defense, so if they have 100 point games, it means they had to adjust their normal style of play, which isn't good.
They out rebounded the Spurs something like 57-32, which meant that they were really being aggressive, and staying focused.
They bet them at home, incedentally for the first time since 1997.
This makes two straight wins, which is a major mental victory for the Pistons as far as the playoffs.

Not the longest list I've ever made, but it does show that this was a real good thing for the Pistons. And if you haven't guessed yet (which means you never will and so I will have to tell you or leave you ignorant) I'm a huge fan of the Pistons (The Bad Boys and the present team). I'm not into the technical aspect of sports that much, so I inherit a lot of knowledge from my dad, who is really insightful on a lot of things. He's the one who explained to me about the Pistons defensive style of play for instance. I think that back in his younger days he was more into the Pistons than I am now. He doesn't waste money, and he hates crowds but he went to games and bought shirts and yearbooks and stuff. That was back in the Bad Boys days.

What is the main reason we like this team? Because they are a team. They play team ball. Name the one main talent on the Pistons. Go ahead, try. Having trouble? That's my point. The team isn't good because of one player, like Shaquille O'Neal or Michael Jordan. The players would have a hard time carrying a team individually. But put them together, and then you have a legendary team. The players are friends- none of this Kobe/Shaq. soap opera crap. They work hard. Look at Ben Wallace, look at Chauncey, who doesn't stop practicing free throws until he can get ten straight in a row. The team has heart- look at Rasheed. However, you can take any player out, and the team can still win games. That's how basketball should be.

I guess my favorite player on this team is Ben Wallace. For his work ethic, his cool hair, his blocks... He's just a great guy, on and off the court.

My next favorite is actually Carlos Arroyo. He has got some really tricky ball handling. It doesn't show up in the stats, but he has helped the Pistons a bunch, from what I've seen. Steals, saves... He's good. They should give him more time. They should give all the bench more time, because if they want to be playoff contenders, they need to have a deeper bench. They might not have Lindsey at 100% for the playoffs, and they need the bench to be able to step up. The starters are really good, but if one or two pick up injuries that keeps them out of the playoffs, the Pistons are done for with the bench they have now. McDyess is good, and so is Arroyo, but Evans, Maxiell, Delfino and espcially Dorko need more experience in actual games. Darco Millicic I do not like, simply because he is a lazy player. Sure, he only gets put in if they are up by 100 with one minute to go, but he could give it an effort. No followthrough, doesn't try for the rebounds, doesn't play hard defense. Just sad. I like this picture though, a huge contrast...

Anyways, I'll get off my soapbox, but not before putting in a plug for the Bad Boys. They could beat the pants off any team in the NBA today, even our Pistons... This post is already far too long, but I'll be back with more of my sports opinions on the Pistons and figure skating- the only two sports besides soccer I pay attention to.

Home Away From Home

2005-12-31T18:02:00.001-05:00

We place too much of a stigma on homelessness. I was thinking the other day about how a person could lead a satisfying life containing most earthy comforts with no more than an ok job, an SUV or van and a gym membership. Maybe not even a gym membership if you play your cards right. You would have to live by yourself, and it would be easier for guys than girls I suppose, but it is possible. If you take all but the front two rows of seats out, you could fit a very small table, a comfortable folding planet chair or two, and a few of those rolling plastic drawer things for clothes. You could sleep shotgun, and have the second row for guests or whatever. The gym membership should give you access to a good locker room, complete with showers, sinks, toilets and your own personal locker. Preferably, it would be a 24 hour gym, with private showers. All hygiene items (toothbrush/paste, razor, towel etc...) can be stored in your locker, and you could take care of all hygiene related things here. I actually read a book once where one of the characters secretly lives in a gym, and it works pretty good for him. And then, of course, the job to pay for all of this. You would have to eat out all the time or buy pre cooked food, but that wouldn't be all so bad. This lifestyle would mean giving up a few material things, but not many. You could still have CD and DVD, you'd have space for one or two hobbies, more if your hobbies don't take up much space... You would just have to get used to living smaller and using public facilities (library or hospital for computers, internet access, gym, restaurants...) Some things might get expensive, but in the end you would actually save money- no mortage, energy/water bills, tax, garbage bills, telemarketers, solicitors... Plus, think of the mobility. All that is required to move is a new gym membership. Also, you could get by temporarily by going to any self-respecting athletic center. Hmm... I'm almost convincing myself to try it, but not quite. Makes for a fun think though.

Laughs from the family...

2005-12-28T20:30:00.000-05:00

Humor from Knave:
I always check the obituaries to see if I have to go into work or not.
That's funnier than an ejector seat in a helicopter.
That's funnier than a screen door in a submarine.

Humor from Carebear:
That's funnier than a handicapped parking space at an ice rink.

Dead Serious Statement from Dairy Farm:
A headache is a pain in the head.

(Keep watching- someday that boy will be a rocket scientist.)

New Year, New Policy

2005-12-28T12:09:00.000-05:00

Hiya... I regret to inform all my concerned readers that in spite of all my anticipation and planning and such, I did not have the most enjoyable Christmas. Acutally, the first half went rather well, Dairy Farm and I won two straight games of pool, one from a scratch and one from pure undeniable skill, beating out Aunt: Armed and Masked with her boyfriend Knave and my sis Carebear teamed up w/ my father's father. Dinner also was splendid, although the ham didn't make enough juice for gravy, so we had to settle for store bought. Nothing in the world is better than a good ham gravy. I finished my scarf while the older women washed dishes, then we all did presents. This is when things started downhill. I recieved a new perfume set, and promptly tried it on. A few minutes later I had a headache and I started to get really cold. I felt horrible the rest of the day and only a little better the day after, and I can't stand the smell of my new perfume anymore. Hopefully New Years goes better.

Oh, and there is a *New Policy*. Any comment containing my real name will be promptly copied, edited and reposted. Darselo and Darselo VanderBeanie will be acceptable substitutions. Anyone who repeatedly breaks this policy will be given a very disagreeable fake name on this blog. Thank you for your cooperation.

Be Grateful For Your Name

2005-12-27T10:23:00.000-05:00

Sometimes a name change is the best idea...

Comic Relief

2005-12-26T09:02:00.000-05:00

Got a bunch of funny pics in one of those forward e-mails, and decided to post them here and there...

Major dilemma in California.

Your choices are College of the Siskiyous or "downtown" Weed.

Top Holiday Songs

2005-12-24T18:07:00.001-05:00

While we are on Christmas, I suppose I had better make a list. The subject? My personal favorites in the Christmas song department. I will limit myself to 15, and they do not go in any particular order.

Christmas Bells - The Royal Guardsmen (not complete w/out first listening to the 2 songs preceding it on the record, as well as the band's comic spoof of WWI radio.
Sleigh Ride- The Ventures (they can make guitars hit some pretty low notes)
O Holy Night- Various (it needs a voice- its not as good instrumentally)
Silver Bells- Various (the older versions, Bing's and the Supremes' I think)
The Merry Christmas Polka- Forgot (get sugar high, grab a sibling, and polka)
Silent Night- Various (i guess my fave is the one w/ the low voiced lady who keeps throwing in "well it was a..." but is so easy to harmonize to)
What Child is This/Greensleves- Various (only hear it once a year)
We Three Kings- Manaheim Steam Roller (just so cool)
Adorar al Nino- Various (sing in Spanish, sticks in the head)
Ukranian Bell Carol- Various (hard to play, even with lower-level music)
Please Christmas Don't Be Late- Alvin and the Chipmunks (fun to sing to)
Ring the Bells- Various (sooo pretty)
While Shepards Watched their Flocks By Night- Various
You Yust Go Nuts At Christmas- Forgot
The Gift- Aselin Debelin? (Makes me cry every time I hear it, which isn't often. It's a happily ever after Carolina!!!!!! )

One more list, this time of favorite Christmas artists.

Manaheim Steamroller
Trans-Siberian Orchestra
The Louvin Brothers
The Ventures
Booker T and the MGs

With that, I wish you all a happy blessed Christmas and the ability to feel like a kid again for one day. To be able to lay down responsibilities and worries and participate fully in whatever celebrations you take part in.

A van der Beanie Christmas...

2005-12-24T13:03:00.000-05:00

Being that this is probably my family's favorite Christmas song (note: I didn't say carol) and that we listen to this song on a record, one can reasonably conclude that my family likes music that isn't quite ordinary. Our favorite Christmas album happens to be by the Ventures. They take perfectly normal and legit Christmas carols and blend in songs like Tequila and My Marie to make a lovely instrumental collection. They were geniuses on guitar, they really were. Get the album from the library sometime. And visit that link.
I don't care what anybody says about the overcommercialization of Christmas, I still get a warm fuzzy feeling from carols, family, whoopee pies and hot chocolate. I love lights, making Christmas stuff, poinsettas and snow. I love having at least one chapter of the Bible memorized by New Years because it gets read so much. I love candycanes. So there.
And I think it is utterly ridiculous that the mega-churches are closing for Christmas on Sunday. In their own peculiar language: It's Christ's party. You're invited. It's at HIS house. Savvy?

Dialing all tabletops!

2005-12-23T16:01:00.000-05:00

"Soursalt" will always be "bittersweet" to me, b/c of a certain devastating "first time- twisted knee- ride left w/out me" incident. Whenever I go there now, I always break out in a cold sweat on the ride there, and my stomach gets queasy. Once I hook up w/ Brooke or whoever, I'm fine, but I always get soo nervous. Goes to show how powerful the mind is. It's been 3-4 years now, and I still subconsiously recall the absolute terror. I'm just fine at Artillerytown. Anyways, it still ended up being a good time. I acheived two of my goals for this year's snowboarding season: I didn't fall coming off the lifts except for once when I had to put my knee down, and I conquered my fears of the tabletop. Not that I got huge air, or landed everything, but I got used to the feel of it and gained some landing confidence. Knowing you are physically capable of doing something makes doing it a whole lot easier. It was the first time I was out on my own board this year too. I found out at Artillery that my junior size bindings would not fit my new boots. (I bought the wrong size boots last year, size 6 as opposed to 7, so I had to put thinner liners in them, so they fit the tiny bindings that came w/ the board.) So anywayz I ended up getting a pair of last year's model Morrow Dimensions, with good solid plastic even my dad thought was quality. Anways, it was the first time out with my full gear, and I am pleased and infinitely relieved to say everything works and feels fine. I went out w/ my bro, Dairy Farm (a.k.a Manuel, chair lift partner of Dorito) to his little terrain park in the woods behind my house, and my board had felt weird, so I was a bit worried about it. But I quote Carolina... "It all came together." Not so for (I quote B. Raisin) "gentle giant" Dorito, who broke ANOTHER baseplate. Luckily, the ski shop guy was able to put it back in useable condition.
Besides boarding, I also got to catch up with peeps I haven't seen in a while, and I don't think I did anything stupid which is a step up from last year. I wore my white GDSU sweatshirt under my coat, and when I go to eat my hotdog it's ketchup all over, first thing, but that is only to be expected. This is a bit random, but I notice that the ski corral dude from last year was back again. The hispanic dude w/ the blonde highlights that looks like J.Rosie... Pretty cute, reminds me of A.E., but that's a whole nother post.
They played oldies the whole night, so I got to hear a bunch of songs I hadn't heard in forever. I went through an oldies phase somewhere around 9th grade. Still like 'em, but ever since the oldies station changed hands I stopped listening to them on the radio. So I only hear the ones my dad has in his extensive CD collection. Anyways, other than the above mentioned things, the night was pretty average, so I might as well make a list of my past Soursalt experiences. I like lists, if you haven't figured that out yet. They are a lot more organized than my writing.

Learing (sort of) to ski, not knowing proper stopping procedure and ending up a foot away from the lodge.
Twisting my knee real bad trying to turn without knowing proper turning procedure. My *ahem* "friends" did not wait for me, and I didn't see them the rest of the night.
Having to ride home w/ the now Mrs. Little and a bunch of older boys b/c the same "friends" didn't wait for me afterwards either. (Yeah, I'm bitter.)
Learing to ski w/ TB in a formal lesson. Incidentally, Manuel learned to snowboard during this time. On his $25 dollar what-we-now-know-is-one-of-the-earliest-Burtons board. More on that in the forthcoming Artillery list.
Coming with Brooke for the first time, and the endearing sensation of having someone waiting for you at the bottom of the hill.
Brooke playing chicken and me subsequently playing limbo with the lifts. That girl is nuts, and that Hawthorn lift is crazy fast.
My first tabletop try. Keeps me humble to this day. I got just enough speed so my board reached the top, then I slowly started back down, fell on my back, rolled awkwardly off the side and ended in a heap on the ground. I didn't try it again that year.
Landing my first airs- I went of the sides of one of the jumps farther down the hill, but b/c of the tabletop incident under the anonymifying cover of darkness.
Falling getting off the ski lift, hitting the people's shed thing, and the stoner inside completely missing the whole episode. I fell right against his door, and he didn't stop the lift or anything. Brooke gets a lot of laughs at my expense on these little outings, btw.
I was minding my own business when some dude behind me yells "Watch Out!" or something. I'm not about to look behind me b/c I wasn't exactly at a standstill, so I just stop carving and go straight, thinking anyone on a blue square hill can steer. Two seconds later, a well-fed young man who had apparently been bombing down the hill clipped my snowboard from behind, and we both ended up on the ground. He lost his hat, and I luckily got a whole bunch of snow in it when I fell. I didn't have the presense of mind to direct him not-so-nicely back to the bunny hill, as I now wish I would have. I think I said sorry, although it wasn't my fault.
I was sitting on this same hill on the same night, chilling w/ Brooke and fam, when all of a sudden some dude just ollies over me. Just "BAM!" and some dude is landing right in front of me. Gave me the willies.
Oh yes, and when recounting this year's adventures, I forgot to mention the two times I came withing 2 inches of a serious collision. 7bergen and I started down the hill at the same time, and he carved right in front of me, so I had to sit down fast or knock him over. Just missed him. Then Brooke and I were cutting over to another hill and some dude about took us both out. I was in front, and she was just behind and a bit to the right of me. This guy comes zipping right smack dab in between us. One more inch on either side and it could have been a painful experience.

Anyways, that's all for now, but I have a lot of stuff to post, and I might even have time what with it being Christmas break and all... Yay!

Hospital

2005-12-06T21:17:00.000-05:00

Volunteered tonight at the hospital. Always eventful but today set a record, I believe. A list:

Arrive, sign in, sit down... Dispatcher-that-can't-remember-names (The DTC RN) forgets my name again. I am engrossed in my Spanish homework. They finally make a combined effort and get my attention. "Oh, what?" #1. (Note: Must learn to respond to "Volunteer".) Apparantly she also calls by color worn. There is one girl who seems to go by "You in the blue."
First discharge, definately wrong number, as the area specified is in the operating section. Go to where I think right place is, # is right, name is wrong. Go back, check number w/ the DTC RN, and verify that I guessed right. Get patient, patient is older woman who cannot weigh more than 80 pounds.
While waiting with the lady for her ride, overhear another dischargee w/ baby talking w/ her discharger about how they almost forgot to take her baby's alarm off which would have caused a hospital lockdown. That would have been... interesting.
Next discharge. I have my chair and I'm in the elevator. (I have bad habit of just walking out when the elevator stops, without checking the floor #.) The elevator stops, and I walk out. Almost get flattened by a cute over-eager intern with a double decker loaded cart who shares another of my bad elevator habits: assuming it's empty. We exchange sorries, and I go on to find out that I am on the wrong floor. Get back on elevator, thinking that it would be very embarassing and ironic if I would see the intern on the floor I was going to. Elevator door opens, and there is intern, waiting for the elevator. It was embarassing, ironic, and looking back, mildly funny. I did have the wits to notice that the young man had learned a lesson from the event- he was waiting the approach of the elevator from a safe distance.
Reach room, forgot cart.
Reach room again, everything goes normally. Get to main lobby and wind up standing for 10 minutes holding a vase of rather bulky flowers. Mea culpa, though.
Off to lunch with Brooke and Deere. Brooke gets her normal ice cream and complains of being cold. Me: "Even after ice cream?" Stunned silence, then inquiries about my mental health.
Back to dispatch room. Finish Spanish, start magazine. "Oh, what?" #2. And the DTC RN even had my name right.
Off on dispatch, nice old man, all goes smooth and quickly until we get in confusion about where his relatives are parked. La puerta front is empty, and his relatives got a 10 min head start. Go to la puerta del corazon, still no relatives. We are kept from boredom by a mysterious Geo, whose driver has abandoned it. This is quite puzzling and disturbing to the valet parking guy, who did not notice the arrival of the car nor the departure of the driver although he faithfully keeps a constant watch- part of the much loved universal valet parking person's code.
The relatives of my patient materialize. They have been parked just out of sight. I wheel him out and get him squared away, and on return smile at the valet guy. (I'm always in a good mood at the hospital, so I'm always smiling.) "Sorry you had to wheel him out so far," he says. I thought that was rather sweet, seeing as it was somewhere around 25-30 ft and not that big of a deal. So I know have a nameless aquaintance with two valet guys (the valet guy at the front helped me out in a complicated cart/chair/revolving door situation). I also have a more involved but still nameless aquaintance with the lady security guard at TCTC. I have special drop-off parking priveledges, and we exchange greetings regularly. It's nice having friends in higher places. Lol.
Back to room, on the way receiving a "Hi" from a random person. "Oh, what?" # 3, this time with good natured laughter.

And that is the end of my list. There were other things to write, but I forget them, other than that I want to formally recognize Erika (whose fake name will be coming shortly. Didn't think Ricka from Flicka, Ricka and Dicka was gonna cut it. Suggestion?) Anyways, wanted to formally recognize her for being my sole commenter. *The most thundrous applause one person can produce* Thanks a bunch! :D

Photograph

2005-12-03T23:17:00.000-05:00

I'm listening to the new Nickelback song, Photograph, and feel the need to just say how disgusted I am with good writers for taking the little step that makes a song go from class to crass. By this, I mean putting in profanity. It really is not cool. In my opinion it is degrading to the writer- they are showing they need to put in filler words, or be shocking so their work has appeal. I don't just mean songs either. Bathroom talk, okay, still crass but tolerable. But why profanity people, WHY? You are just insulting your talents. Instead of "crappy", invent something "snappy". And yeah, I know that was tacky.
I love Photograph, I really can't help it... It touches the heartstrings. It's not your run of the mill song: it has an original theme, it has somewhat of a point, it does not degrade my gender and the music video is very well done. All of which are very rare in this decade. But I can never listen to it with a clear conscience. I hate feeling like I should hit the mute button. If they could just take out two words, it would be perfection. Someday I'll get me a big 'ol soundboard/system thingy and learn to edit songs and movies so I can salvage some of the strokes of genius I encounter. Yup, right after I learn to burn CD's off of tapes and records, how to successfully use audio files in any HTML/CSS format, and become the 345th person to fly to the moon.

Good things come in pairs they say...

2005-12-01T16:23:00.000-05:00

So what do the bad things come in. Today was no better than yesterday. Not only is the world against me, but I also can take comfort in the knowledge that I am definately stupid.
The UGLY:

Forgot to print essay. Dyke said I could e-mail it to her. Put address in book. Forgot book.
Missed assignment in Brit Lit.
Left a couple questions blank on the Bible quiz.
As I noted before, I didn't know the rounding on my accounting test. -28 1/2, C-, worst grade I've ever gotten on a test.
Getting a 3.7 cumulative GPA, need 3.8 by semester to get Presidential Scholarship... nooooot good.
Still have to do the announcement at Music night.
Brit Lit test to do.
I can't relax over the weekend because every waking moment must be spent selling candy and doing accounting plus whatever other school drudgery I may recieve. Wanna buy a box of candy or nuts?

I'm seriously going crazy here. I stay up late doing homework, and don't get quite enough sleep, so I loose an hour every day, so I start forgetting things, not being alert and it all falls apart. College will probably kill me.

Oh lands, what a day!

2005-11-30T16:10:00.000-05:00

Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day
You had a bad day
Well you need a blue sky holiday
The point is they laugh at what you say
And I don't need no carrying on
You had a bad day
You had a bad day
Daniel Powter
Bad Day

I had a bad bad bad day today, so I am going to indulge in a half-hour of self-pity, if no one minds. I need to get out all of the drama and mental agony. So, in numerical (and mostly chronological order)
THE BAD

I got somewhere around 5 hours and 40 minutes of sleep last night, and my cat woke me up 5 minutes early.
Had to wear the sweater that makes me look fat b/c it has a bulgy front pocket, b/c it is the only shirt that matches my favorite skirt.
Found large hole caused by unravelling in sweater. Was able to fix, but that is 3 minutes less for my hair and threw my delicate schedule off.
Gout (*Note, no names on here are real.) hugged me today at Technically a Career/Trade Center (TCTC). Grossed and Freaked out. Listen buster: Talking to you does not make me a potential love interest, I have tried to make it clear by blatantly ignoring you and shunning contact but I AM NOT INTERESTED. BACK OFF!!!!!!! I would hate to be expelled for slapping a person, but if it happens again I am willing to risk it.
Talked to Great Depression State University (GDSU) rep at college expo at TCTC, and found out that I can't get in the December scholarship competition, which supposedly has an advantage over January and Febuary.
Forgot gum and had egg and coffee breath.
Got to school, got in Government class, realized there was quiz on newspaper articles I hadn't read. And just when my grade was back up to an A. I know I got at least 1 question and the essay wrong. Then, we were assigned a 200 word essay on the Reality and Racism video we had to watch. Then assigned study guide 7.2, plus quiz.
Got involved in racism discussion which made me late for class. Teacher said she would excuse.
Get to next class, get 3rd tardy, which is a demerit. Supposedly I freaked out, but I didn't think it was that bad. Explained somewhat about the excuse, didn't get far. Everyone got a good laugh. Deportista: "Your face is red." Me: "Uh, kinda realize that. Thanks ever so much." Then, remember that we have a devotions quiz. And by that I mean test. And by that I mean about 20 essay questions. And by that I mean a SORE SORE hand. Not to mention my poor brain.
Study hall passed and noon hour comes. Approach the Dyke about the tardy. "Oh I can't excuse that!" Huh? When she promised she would? Anyway, too shocked at the injustice to fight it much, too busy fighting tears. (I tear up quite quickly in such situations. Which is wierd, because I usually don't cry for the really bad stuff. But stupid little thinegs set me off.) Anyways, I run to the library to try and get control, but loose it again walking into lunch room, so quick duck in next room where some of my friends were and talked it out a bit and finally got control. I HATE crying in public.
Get back from lunch to find detention slip and slip asking me to see Mr. Buzz.
See Mr. Buzz, he has the lines I am supposed to read with a microphone tommorow night at the Music Night. With I microphone. I knew it was stupid even when I signed up to do it. WHY DO I LET MYSELF TALK MYSELF INTO THINGS!!!?!?!?!?! Oh yeah... I needed the extra credit in Bible class.... Esp. with that quiz tommorow.
Off the hook for detention, but get a whole new round of mockery in Spanish. Thanks Brooke. Thanks a lot. You too Devious. And a test tomorrow.
Accounting Test. Never figured out where you round. Not good.
Total homework tally: Government Essay, Quiz and study guide, Bible Quiz/Test, Spanish Test, Brit Lit Reading and Questions, practice lines.

The Good

Some good things did happen... I guess.

Got my notepads back at TCTC.
Mom made me an egg sandwich for the second day in a row for breakfast, plus a nice warm cappucino. LUV YA MOM!
Mom also got in touch with the GDSU admissions, and supposedly I won't loose too much by missing December and I'm all but accepted to boot.
I got out of the demerit.
I got to eat a Dove chocolate!
I got an A+ on the last Spanish quiz.

I hope this makes you feel that you had a good day. Now it's off to work with me, on that essay. I'll post it on here if it turns out any good. Racism is a subject I've been wanting to touch on anyways...

"Quote"

2005-11-28T16:12:00.000-05:00

Isabel Colgate
It is not a bad ideato get in the habit of writing down one's thoughts
It saves one from having to burden anyone else with them.

Quote is a weird weird word. It doesn't look quite right with the Quo. Quoth, Quote, Quotes. Strange. But then, the English language is strange in itself. Anyways, this could pass for my blog thesis statement, although it isn't. Getting down thoughts in writing so you don't have to bring them up in conversation. I'm trying to cut down on talking about myself to anyone but myself. Maybe even talking in general. I always end up making a fool out of myself when I try talking to people.

The Cleansing of the Sleeping Quarters

2005-11-25T17:04:00.000-05:00

Taking a break from cleaning my room to expound upon the refreshing benefits of the aforementioned action.

First off, there are few better feelings than knowing your room is organized. It's a feeling of being in control, of having all the loose ends tied up again. You can basically tell my state of mind from the degree of neatness in my room. If everything is on the floor, the bed's not made and drawers are open and spilling over then I am being rushed along and am feeling very much harrased and frazzled. Beware of suggesting I put away the clothes lying around- I'm not in the mood to hear it! But if everything is put away, and the floor is vaccumed, it means I have a lot of free time and hence am relaxed and usually happy.
Second, cleaning your room gives you the chance to rediscover the contents of your music collection. Today, for instance, I found out that one of my dad's CD's (Sally Harmon) had the song that plays on one of my old carosel horses. I had been wondering the other day what the name of the song was, and now I know- Memory, from Cats. (if the CD insert is a creditable source) Something about old favorites and a dustrag on a snowy day makes for a good "me" time.
Third, you generally find things you forgot you had, or something that brings up a good memory. Like the Harry Potter book I accidentally won or the pin I got from some lady that owned a hat shop in Canada. We talked for about 20 minutes and then she gave me the pin before we left. It was a great trip and the pin brought it back.

And I could mention a lot more things, probably, like how nice it is to get into a freshly made bed, or the warm fuzzy feeling you get when you know that your fish finally have a clean tank with the proper amount of water in it. It is a sense of accomplishment, of overcoming the eternal enemy of sloth. With that in mind, go clean your room! Play the songs you love that you can only listen to alone. Bring back your memories and have a great time.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2005-11-24T18:42:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here at my aunt's house, watching Lions and recovering from what I now realize was a scoop too many of mashed potatoes. Soft drinks happen to be a good cure for this, btw. Lions are loosing, par normal. The sad thing is that this year they are even loosing the shoving matches... Anyways, I'm really posting to do kind of a Thanksgiving sermon recap. We had some minister from New Zealand, and he brought out some really good points that I think are really worth mentioning here. For instance, do you grumble when you are brushing snow off your windshield at 6 in the morning before you head for work? You shouldn't- there are plenty of people who would love to have your job, or any job. There are people who would love to even have a car. Are you grateful that you had the privilege to wake up, and didn't die during the night? How about your food? Did you make a big fuss over pineapples in the jello or lumpy potatoes? Because 30,000 kids died today for lack of food. Have you ever really thanked God for the things you take for granted? There was a great verse that the minister quoted to describe America. In II Timothy somewhere. I'll look it up and put it on here in it's entirety. The context was describing a people who were proud, covetous and unthankful. And that's us. We are the people who COMPLAIN when CHARITY comes too slowly. We are the society that think we DESERVE the good life. Pfft. Sad. And I include myself under that. I take a TON of things for granted. I complain a LOT. I will never understand how people can say they turned away from God because He didn't help them, didn't seem to care. Every person ever born owes God thanks for something, if only for being born and having the chance to serve Him. Even the bad can have some good in it. Fire serves to purify gold. Find that gold, and be grateful. Oh, and on a lighter note, I hope you have/had a great Thanksgiving.

Quotable

2005-11-23T21:02:00.000-05:00

David Wallace
...When you don't have time to think there isn't always
a thought process involved...

This was a gem I came across in the paper the other day from David Wallace (brother of my man Ben Wallace) in regard to the Pistons/Pacers brawl. He speaks truth, no?

Back in Action! (And now able to use the Title Tool!)

2005-11-22T21:25:00.000-05:00

Yehaw! Gunfighter is saddlin' up again! I had deleted my first blog b/c my parents had misgivings about safety and my need to blog, but we talked it out and I am back on again and trying to be careful and not spend to much time on it. My parents are very reasonable- they are willing to debate things and allow themselves to change their minds. So I do what they ask, and try to see it from their side. If I can't, we talk it out. They still don't understand why I need to blog, but they'll work with it. Which is an attitude that could solve a lot of people's getting along problems. Everybody has eccentricities, and the best way to handle that is just to play along without challenging it. By eccentricities I mean little things like insisting that chairs get pushed in, or if you are a teacher making your students put 1st and last names, then hour and row... You can avoid so much friction if you just laugh to yourself and play along. It makes me so frustrated to see people make such a big deal out of little things. C'mon, bend a little!
Running spell check just now, I reaalized that the spell check of a major blog host doesn't recongnize the word blog. Go figure.