So I'm at home now, which means that I'm suffering with an agonizingly slow internet connection and an outdated computer that's probably full of viruses that slow it down even more. My homepage is constantly set to weird sites no matter how many times I change it. And no, they're not porn sites. What does this all mean to you? That means a reduction in fancy posts with lots of links to other sites. However, I thought I should say a few things before my blog gets stale, so to speak.
Abe has recently started a blog. It provides an opportunity to look into the mind of one of the most unique and fun people I've known in my life. You should check it out if you haven't already done so. Thus far, Abe's posts have gone pretty much in the direction I originally saw this blog heading into, and it's somewhat startling to see how similarly Abe and I think about posting our thoughts and feelings for the whole world, or at least for those with computers and a knowledge of English. I think it is a form of vanity in many ways. We - and I mean all of us who have started one of these things - obviously feel like we have something to share, something to provide to people. You may notice that I've 'installed' a site meter at the bottom of the page, which is certainly an ego thing...I want to know how many people look at my blog, how many are exposed to these 'words of wisdom' or foolishness, if you like. I too have written in journals, only to begin writing as if someone else would be reading it. And when I died, it seems increasingly likely that they would have. One doesn't have to be famous to have their belongings rummaged through and perused by nosy relatives. And even if Courtney Love isn't your wife, it seems like your thoughts will eventually be known to anyone who desires to know them, as long as you've taken the time to write them down.
I may never be a good writer, because I have that flaw of writing for others and not for myself. I would think that someone who does write for a living and writes well would be writing for himself or herself first. I remember 11th grade and that "great book" for which Ben and I were going to alternate chapters. I constantly had my half with me and was showing it to anyone who expressed an interest, which must have been pretty annoying. My handwritten pages met their doom in Kilcoyne's French class (which was a glorified unsupervised study hall) when I didn't feel they were getting their proper amount of respect. Twenty-some pages ripped to shreds.
Too bad I couldn't write like that for my W. European Politics class, eh?
On that note...
So I checked my grades on Wednesday. When I saw them, I began to laugh hysterically, not believing my eyes. Despite all logic and reason, I had pulled off a 3.6 GPA. I got the A's in McCord's US History 1945-Present and Cold War Film as expected. I only got an A- in Modern British Literature, which was really dumb on my part. I had not written a minor supplement to a class presentation that had been deemed too short. Otherwise, that could easily have been another A. But the real surprises were Western European Politics, which was a B+, and in Comparative North America, which was a B.
In WestEuroPoliSci, I only turned in seven pages for the required twenty, and I had only written 800 words for the required 1250 on the take-home final essay. Professor Muller had actually emailed the class two days before and warned that the grades were higher than normal, but not due to an increase in the amount or quality of the work. He asked us not to ask him to justify some of the marks. I had an inkling that I might get something better than a C after reading that, but a B+ was quite a shock.
In Comparative North America, I had turned in about five pages for a take-home final for which there was an established 10-12 page limit. I had answered only 7/10 of Part I, about 15% of Part II, and seemingly 1/5 of Part III. The last two portions of the exam were both essay format, and made up the bulk of the points. The exam itself was worth a whopping 340 points, out of a possible 1000 for the course. I turned in a required 5-7 page paper (which was actually complete) exactly two weeks late, two days before grades had to be in. The paper was worth 240 points. Long story short, without going into the math of how I could possibly have gotten a B: I was ecstatic. I had pretty much expected a D, and before I knew I could still turn the paper in to him (Editor's Note: Due to the first comment posted here...I shall give credit where credit should have been given. I only found out that I could possibly turn the paper in late after an MSN messenger conversation with anonymous AKA Steph. A thank you is in order and I was remiss in not acknowledging her role in my unexpected good fortune), I was expecting to fail the course entirely. The professor is my advisor, and I was thinking of ways to avoid seeing him ever again while thinking of what I would have to do procedurally to officially change advisors. I may still do that, since he sent me a fairly nasty email that simultaneously chastised me and allowed me to turn in the paper late. He was pretty sarcastic in the message, and I thought, "wow, what a prick," which is exactly how people must feel about me - fairly often, I would imagine. But I have a good time with it, so I'm not likely to stop anytime soon.
I had a decent Christmas. I slept at my grandparents' house last night (and will likely sleep there tonight as well) because I don't have a bed here at my parents' house. My big, beautiful, luxurious Queen-sized bed that I love so much is at my apartment. Anyway, I was reading last night until about 1, after not having slept more than five hours at Ben's house the night before. Ben, Matt, Thom, and I had enjoyed some wine while conversing among ourselves before going into the side room to watch Napoleon Dynamite, which is a fairly amusing film. I would recommend viewing a legitimate, non-downloaded version on something larger than a typical laptop screen, if you can swing it. It's pretty funny, although the wine probably did most of the work to put me in a light-hearted mood. After the movie, Thom and Matt drove home and Ben and I stayed up talking, as we have been apt to do for the past six or seven years. Of course, Ben and I have had our strained moments, with Senior Year - Sabreena, Alana, and the great yearbook incident, which Ben likes to remind me of as often as he can manage it... but our friendship has endured basically since 10th grade or so. He and I can talk for hours about anything and everything, and spending time with him is something that I always look forward to - usually just around the holidays now that he's out in the real world with a real job.
Working in retail - assaulted with constant Christmas music while being berated by angry customers - does not put me in the 'holiday spirit.' However, this is usually the time where I can count on being around friends that I haven't seen in a while, and it's the one part of the holidays that actually puts me in a good mood. Two years ago after the whole Destini thing, nightmares galore based on that mess, desires to end it all, and with college falling apart on top of everything else - it was my friends being home that saved me. It seemed like I was at a small get-together every night at Kristen's house or Paul's house or Turck's place during that time. At that time, work was good for me too, because it was busy and it was an opportunity for me to stop thinking about things. The drawback was that I had to drive past her car parked outside of the fucking cokehead's apartment every morning on my way to work and think about what she had been doing there and why she was staying the night. Which is a hell of a drawback, of course. It ultimately cemented my move to Colorado. But yeah...so when I got to work, the mall was packed and no one was talking about anything that reminded me of her, which was rare in itself. Then I would get a call at work, inviting me to come out to Kristen's or Paul's or wherever it happened to be that night. Of course drinking certainly helped too, but I had no particular desire to turn into an alcoholic. But the drinking allowed me to come out of my reserved shell a little bit and enjoy both my friends and myself a little more. And often, it ensured that I would not be driving past her car again parked outside of the apartment, since I did that just about every night at least once, apparently to torture myself, since I pretty much knew she was going to be there. Is this paragraph long enough yet?
December-January 2002-2003 was also my first interaction with John Bisignano, alternately referred to on this blog as John or Biz. I had a great time with John and when it came time to decide whether or not to move out to Colorado with he and Steve (Kristen's brother, whom I already knew I got along with) a month later, it sealed the deal. We had a great time out there, and even though not everything worked out as planned (when does it? and having an accident in your roommate's car isn't exactly part of the plan either...), I look at it now as an absolutely essential experience - certainly one that paved the way for me to come back to school, which I think is a good thing. It also made John into a guy I consider one of my closest friends, even though he's usually far away (and he'll be even further away in Spain, Morocco, and Tanzania over the next few months!), he's among those select people I think I'll always be in touch with throughout my life. I do not think I can pay a higher compliment.
Alright (does anyone else type 'alright,' or do you all type 'all right?' I'm not sure if I'm incorrect or if it's just a variation, or if it is not really a proper word or contraction at all and I'm just making it up...). Well, there's more to say. There always is. As is often the case, I didn't really go where I thought I was going to go with this post. But there's time for that, I think. And my readers - ha - can only stand so much at a time. I think I wrote previously about my periods of reflection and reflective moods or whatever. I guess I have them fairly often, and I think I've finally gotten a little bit of that wistful holiday spirit tonight. Too bad I have to work tomorrow. It'll probably be sapped out of me in record time with some whiny bastard with a $29 DVD player that - SURPRISE! - doesn't work...
Anyway - Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays and all that. Even though I think I'm pretty much a deist, but that's another topic entirely. We might cover that some other time. I think it's something I'd rather talk about than type, but we'll see.
In any event, enjoy the season and enjoy those around you. Take advantage of the time you have with the people that you love. You never know how much you've got.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
"Don't give me that bullshit blackmail, Leah!"
That's among the things I had the pleasure of hearing in my apartment from the guy next door. He was yelling at one of his daughters. It's not like I live in a trashy place, either. This guy's a teacher at Dunkirk and his daughters are supposedly in college.
From what I could gather (and it wasn't difficult, because the latter portion of the argument was conducted in the hallway outside my door), the daughter didn't do something that her father felt that she should have done and she decided to go to her mom's place. When she said she was going there, it prompted the comment that serves as the title for this post. She was also taking her laptop, and her dad said something like, "see how you do without a high speed internet connection" and she responded with, "well, sometimes you have to give things up."
Wow - and I thought I was getting away from domestic disputes when I moved out of my parents' house. Ha!
I shouldn't be too hard on ol' Dennis though. He's a good neighbor for the most part. He's never complained about noise (although we're really never noisy anyway). And he doesn't yell at his kids too often. I know, because I'd be able to hear it every time.
So I know Kevin's neighbor is Sam Elliott. Does anyone else have any good neighbor stories they'd like to share?
From what I could gather (and it wasn't difficult, because the latter portion of the argument was conducted in the hallway outside my door), the daughter didn't do something that her father felt that she should have done and she decided to go to her mom's place. When she said she was going there, it prompted the comment that serves as the title for this post. She was also taking her laptop, and her dad said something like, "see how you do without a high speed internet connection" and she responded with, "well, sometimes you have to give things up."
Wow - and I thought I was getting away from domestic disputes when I moved out of my parents' house. Ha!
I shouldn't be too hard on ol' Dennis though. He's a good neighbor for the most part. He's never complained about noise (although we're really never noisy anyway). And he doesn't yell at his kids too often. I know, because I'd be able to hear it every time.
So I know Kevin's neighbor is Sam Elliott. Does anyone else have any good neighbor stories they'd like to share?
Monday, December 20, 2004
Slightly Lame Quiz - "Which Led Zeppelin album are you?"
See - you guys should love it when I post stuff like this. Know why? Because now with this blog, I can put it here instead of emailing it to you, since I'm sure you don't give a damn. Just like whenever I would send you complete multi-page interviews with Robert Plant that were about 58k and clogged your inbox. But I'm sure you read every word.
Anyway, this is a rather silly quiz, and it is supposed to translate your personality into a particular Zeppelin album. As always with these things, I was not impressed or pleased with most of the choices that were presented. Then again, I fancy myself to be a unique individual whose personality does not fit any pre-existing mold. But I'm probably wrong about that, too.
So yeah - I was deemed The Song Remains The Same, which was Zeppelin's only officially-released live album until last year's How The West Was Won and DVD offerings. TSRTS was culled from three nights at Madison Square Garden (July 27-29) in 1973. The album was not released until 1976, for a variety of reasons that I will refrain from discussing at this time. The performances, while adequate, were certainly not among the band's greatest; TSRTS was not regarded highly by most Zeppelin fans who were "in the know" and could compare the shows to other recordings of slightly less legitimate origins (like the dozens of bootleg recordings I own - side note: Floyd fans are a paranoid bunch...they insist on avoiding the term 'bootleg' and calling them RoIO instead - Recordings of Illegitimate Origin).
Back to the point of this post...the results of my quiz were as follows:
"The Song Remains the Same. Hey, life's a party, right? Nobody's perfect, and nobody gets them all right all the time. Light one up, find the keg, and worry about the rest later."
Not sure that sums me up at all, but perhaps I'll try again later. You may take the quiz and post your results in the comments section if you so desire.
Anyway, this is a rather silly quiz, and it is supposed to translate your personality into a particular Zeppelin album. As always with these things, I was not impressed or pleased with most of the choices that were presented. Then again, I fancy myself to be a unique individual whose personality does not fit any pre-existing mold. But I'm probably wrong about that, too.
So yeah - I was deemed The Song Remains The Same, which was Zeppelin's only officially-released live album until last year's How The West Was Won and DVD offerings. TSRTS was culled from three nights at Madison Square Garden (July 27-29) in 1973. The album was not released until 1976, for a variety of reasons that I will refrain from discussing at this time. The performances, while adequate, were certainly not among the band's greatest; TSRTS was not regarded highly by most Zeppelin fans who were "in the know" and could compare the shows to other recordings of slightly less legitimate origins (like the dozens of bootleg recordings I own - side note: Floyd fans are a paranoid bunch...they insist on avoiding the term 'bootleg' and calling them RoIO instead - Recordings of Illegitimate Origin).
Back to the point of this post...the results of my quiz were as follows:
"The Song Remains the Same. Hey, life's a party, right? Nobody's perfect, and nobody gets them all right all the time. Light one up, find the keg, and worry about the rest later."
Not sure that sums me up at all, but perhaps I'll try again later. You may take the quiz and post your results in the comments section if you so desire.
Bob Herbert NYT Editorial War on the Cheap
Kind of like Catch-22, when they keep raising the number of missions that Yossarian has to fly before he can get the hell out:
Troops approaching the end of their tours in Iraq are frequently dealt the emotional body blow of unexpected orders blocking their departure for home. "I've never seen so many grown men cry," said Paul Rieckhoff, a former infantry platoon leader who founded Operation Truth, an advocacy group for soldiers and veterans.
"Soldiers will do whatever you ask them to do," said Mr. Rieckhoff. "But when you tell them the finish line is here, and then you keep moving it back every time they get five meters away from it, it starts to really wear on them. It affects morale."
Troops approaching the end of their tours in Iraq are frequently dealt the emotional body blow of unexpected orders blocking their departure for home. "I've never seen so many grown men cry," said Paul Rieckhoff, a former infantry platoon leader who founded Operation Truth, an advocacy group for soldiers and veterans.
"Soldiers will do whatever you ask them to do," said Mr. Rieckhoff. "But when you tell them the finish line is here, and then you keep moving it back every time they get five meters away from it, it starts to really wear on them. It affects morale."
Friday, December 17, 2004
Abraham
I bring you the one and only Abe, from his most recent email:
What's up everybody? Awesome Abe here.
So get this. I'm the King of freakin' cool right?
Yeah, and what's more is that now I'm even more
freakin' cool. Yeah, and ya know why? Well let me tell
ya why. It's because I got this neat little gadget
that makes me look as cool as I really am. What? No, I
got a razor, I've had one, I'm freakin' cool ya know.
Anyway, yeah, I got this handy little tool that goes
on my waist. What! You crazy man? No, and there's
nothin' little about that tool. Sheesh! As I was
saying, you know how cool I was before, but now
everybody's gonna know how immensely cool I am when
they see me, hee hee, that's funny, but I don't need
to expose myself to get attention anymore because
everybody's gonna know they're in the realm of the
king of cool when they see me talking on a freakin'
cell phone!
That's right ladies and gentlemen. Abe presents the
new chapter of cool, but don't think he's only a few
lightyears ahead of his time because his cellular
phone is equipped with voicemail and a freakin'
camera. Imagine that! Oh, you can't, but that's okay
because you won't be left completely in the dark
because Abe was generous enough to leave his cellular
phone number so that you may contact him at any time
that he's not busy doing something even cooler than
answering his phone, and even I can't imagine what
those things could be. So with no further delay I
present to you (drums rolling) Abe's cell phone
number!
397-1266
(Please note that you are under no obligation or peer
pressure to send or receive phone calls to and from
this number, and Abe knows in his heart (because he
told me and he's honest) that you like him and nearly
worship him no matter the amount of airtime, if any,
that you spend together. And likewise, he knows that
just because he's oftentimes, actually always, cooler
than you (c'mon, he is the King of cool and needn't be
conceited in acknowledging that, plus he's honest) he
still likes you and nearly worships you even though he
rarely, if ever, or will, call you.)
Now, since it's the Christmas season and Abe happens
to be in his holiday spirit, he wishes you a Merry
Christmas despite and because of the religious
connotations. But he won't simply let this season pass
without extending an invitation and a chance at a real
life! Yes, I know you're as excited as he about his
departure for New Orleans shortly after the new year
begins because for one, Abe is always excited, and
two, you simply will be excited when you hear this:
Abe is offering a front bucket seat with manual leg
space and back adjusters, and.. Yep, you guessed it!
Abe is offering a once in a lifetime opportunity to be
his company on a ride and/or stay in New Orleans! All
you have to do is drop by Stockton on your way to
either Fredonia or Jamestown, (because Stockton is in
the middle of these two great towns and nobody ever
plans to stop in the town of Stockton, at least not
til' now, as Abe is likely to kick up the number of
tourists from zero to around one million or so with
this extraordinary offer and his willingness to
finally offer a glimpse of his extreme cool to a
select few) and that was a long gap between the same
thought, so let me restate that all you have to do is
drop by Abe's house to pick up an application or give
him a ring on his brand new out of this world too cool
cellular phone and explain to him or his sexetary why
you think you're cool enough to be his company, and
why you think the people of New Orleans would agree
with that. Thank you and goodbye [click]
________________________________
What's up everybody? Awesome Abe here.
So get this. I'm the King of freakin' cool right?
Yeah, and what's more is that now I'm even more
freakin' cool. Yeah, and ya know why? Well let me tell
ya why. It's because I got this neat little gadget
that makes me look as cool as I really am. What? No, I
got a razor, I've had one, I'm freakin' cool ya know.
Anyway, yeah, I got this handy little tool that goes
on my waist. What! You crazy man? No, and there's
nothin' little about that tool. Sheesh! As I was
saying, you know how cool I was before, but now
everybody's gonna know how immensely cool I am when
they see me, hee hee, that's funny, but I don't need
to expose myself to get attention anymore because
everybody's gonna know they're in the realm of the
king of cool when they see me talking on a freakin'
cell phone!
That's right ladies and gentlemen. Abe presents the
new chapter of cool, but don't think he's only a few
lightyears ahead of his time because his cellular
phone is equipped with voicemail and a freakin'
camera. Imagine that! Oh, you can't, but that's okay
because you won't be left completely in the dark
because Abe was generous enough to leave his cellular
phone number so that you may contact him at any time
that he's not busy doing something even cooler than
answering his phone, and even I can't imagine what
those things could be. So with no further delay I
present to you (drums rolling) Abe's cell phone
number!
397-1266
(Please note that you are under no obligation or peer
pressure to send or receive phone calls to and from
this number, and Abe knows in his heart (because he
told me and he's honest) that you like him and nearly
worship him no matter the amount of airtime, if any,
that you spend together. And likewise, he knows that
just because he's oftentimes, actually always, cooler
than you (c'mon, he is the King of cool and needn't be
conceited in acknowledging that, plus he's honest) he
still likes you and nearly worships you even though he
rarely, if ever, or will, call you.)
Now, since it's the Christmas season and Abe happens
to be in his holiday spirit, he wishes you a Merry
Christmas despite and because of the religious
connotations. But he won't simply let this season pass
without extending an invitation and a chance at a real
life! Yes, I know you're as excited as he about his
departure for New Orleans shortly after the new year
begins because for one, Abe is always excited, and
two, you simply will be excited when you hear this:
Abe is offering a front bucket seat with manual leg
space and back adjusters, and.. Yep, you guessed it!
Abe is offering a once in a lifetime opportunity to be
his company on a ride and/or stay in New Orleans! All
you have to do is drop by Stockton on your way to
either Fredonia or Jamestown, (because Stockton is in
the middle of these two great towns and nobody ever
plans to stop in the town of Stockton, at least not
til' now, as Abe is likely to kick up the number of
tourists from zero to around one million or so with
this extraordinary offer and his willingness to
finally offer a glimpse of his extreme cool to a
select few) and that was a long gap between the same
thought, so let me restate that all you have to do is
drop by Abe's house to pick up an application or give
him a ring on his brand new out of this world too cool
cellular phone and explain to him or his sexetary why
you think you're cool enough to be his company, and
why you think the people of New Orleans would agree
with that. Thank you and goodbye [click]
________________________________
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Killer Queen
I'm not sure any of you care, and I don't even own any of their music, although I like a few songs - but Queen (or at least guitarist Brian May and drummer Roger Taylor) will apparently tour next year with Paul Rodgers on lead vocals.
Rodgers was the lead singer for the band Free before joining Bad Company (Bad Co. was the first band signed by the Atlantic label subsidiary formed by Led Zeppelin, known as Swan Song). Rodgers left Bad Company to do some solo work before linking up with Jimmy Page to release two albums as The Firm in 1985 and 1986 (self-titled debut and sophomore effort Mean Business) and do two tours. You might know their lone radio hit, "Radioactive," although it was far from the best song on the album. It might tell you something that the CD is under 10 bucks on Amazon. The band received some acclaim but ultimately flopped. The live shows were a little lackluster and no Bad Company or Zeppelin songs were performed.
I should also mention that Robert Plant sang a couple songs (notably "Thank You" leading into "Crazy Little Thing Called Love") at the Freddie Mercury tribute concert in 1992. He was pretty well-received, I think.
Anway...are there any Queen fans out there who have an opinion about Rodgers singing Freddie Mercury's songs? I haven't heard any of his attempts, but I wouldn't think he'd have anything near Mercury's almost operatic range/delivery.
Rodgers was the lead singer for the band Free before joining Bad Company (Bad Co. was the first band signed by the Atlantic label subsidiary formed by Led Zeppelin, known as Swan Song). Rodgers left Bad Company to do some solo work before linking up with Jimmy Page to release two albums as The Firm in 1985 and 1986 (self-titled debut and sophomore effort Mean Business) and do two tours. You might know their lone radio hit, "Radioactive," although it was far from the best song on the album. It might tell you something that the CD is under 10 bucks on Amazon. The band received some acclaim but ultimately flopped. The live shows were a little lackluster and no Bad Company or Zeppelin songs were performed.
I should also mention that Robert Plant sang a couple songs (notably "Thank You" leading into "Crazy Little Thing Called Love") at the Freddie Mercury tribute concert in 1992. He was pretty well-received, I think.
Anway...are there any Queen fans out there who have an opinion about Rodgers singing Freddie Mercury's songs? I haven't heard any of his attempts, but I wouldn't think he'd have anything near Mercury's almost operatic range/delivery.
The Toll of the War or: How to Win Friends and Influence People, by George W. Bush
Yet another article that will make you rush to the recruiter's office. Of course, this sort of thing doesn't get too much play on CNN or MSNBC. Fox News? Ha.
However, as this war drags on (which it undoubtedly will), I think we'll start to see more stuff like this. The reason? Well, as public approval for the war continues to dip below 50%, the media will seek out stories to tell that reinforce public notions that the campaign in Iraq (as well as in Afghanistan) has been a failure.
We will only see the number of Americans killed begin to rise more sharply if the US decides that it needs to go back and "pacify" (translation: completely obliterate) more cities like Fallujah. And of course, efforts like those only serve to scatter the insurgents across the country, not to wipe them out. Due to the improved technologies developed by the US military since Vietnam, we're just likely to see more "seriously wounded" people, as the article says. Seriously wounded means that these people are missing limbs. Sure, you'll survive - but you might not be able to feed yourself when you come home.
It seems like there's a new prisoner/detainee abuse story every day. It may seem naive or hopelessly simple minded to some people in such an exercise, but humor me and just ask yourself how you might respond if this country was being occupied. If you say, "well, that would never happen - we'd nuke 'em!", then please get the fuck out and go somewhere you're appreciated. Now - what was I saying?
Iraq has roughly one-tenth the population of the United States. Conservative estimates on the average number of Iraqi deaths (not casualties [injured + dead], but deaths) at roughly 300 per week since the war started. Again, that's an average. Some weeks are worse than others. If Iraq is one-tenth the population of the United States, then that means the equivalent in this country would be 3000 dead every week. How many people died in the WTC attacks? About 2900 or so. How would the citizens of our country respond if we were experiencing a 9/11 type attack every week?
Draw your own conclusions. Do you truly believe that each week, the overwhelming majority of those 300 dead Iraqis were members of Al Qaeda or the insurgency? I would say it's not too likely.
But hey - it's all justified, because Americans are far safer now that Saddam Hussein is no longer in power. Right? Don't you feel safer?
Can't wait until we invade the next country. We're winning new friends all over the planet.
Posts like this will likely get outgoing Attorney General John Ashcroft to pass my name along to the incoming Alberto Gonzales. So if I disappear mysteriously, you'll know what happened.
However, as this war drags on (which it undoubtedly will), I think we'll start to see more stuff like this. The reason? Well, as public approval for the war continues to dip below 50%, the media will seek out stories to tell that reinforce public notions that the campaign in Iraq (as well as in Afghanistan) has been a failure.
We will only see the number of Americans killed begin to rise more sharply if the US decides that it needs to go back and "pacify" (translation: completely obliterate) more cities like Fallujah. And of course, efforts like those only serve to scatter the insurgents across the country, not to wipe them out. Due to the improved technologies developed by the US military since Vietnam, we're just likely to see more "seriously wounded" people, as the article says. Seriously wounded means that these people are missing limbs. Sure, you'll survive - but you might not be able to feed yourself when you come home.
It seems like there's a new prisoner/detainee abuse story every day. It may seem naive or hopelessly simple minded to some people in such an exercise, but humor me and just ask yourself how you might respond if this country was being occupied. If you say, "well, that would never happen - we'd nuke 'em!", then please get the fuck out and go somewhere you're appreciated. Now - what was I saying?
Iraq has roughly one-tenth the population of the United States. Conservative estimates on the average number of Iraqi deaths (not casualties [injured + dead], but deaths) at roughly 300 per week since the war started. Again, that's an average. Some weeks are worse than others. If Iraq is one-tenth the population of the United States, then that means the equivalent in this country would be 3000 dead every week. How many people died in the WTC attacks? About 2900 or so. How would the citizens of our country respond if we were experiencing a 9/11 type attack every week?
Draw your own conclusions. Do you truly believe that each week, the overwhelming majority of those 300 dead Iraqis were members of Al Qaeda or the insurgency? I would say it's not too likely.
But hey - it's all justified, because Americans are far safer now that Saddam Hussein is no longer in power. Right? Don't you feel safer?
Can't wait until we invade the next country. We're winning new friends all over the planet.
Posts like this will likely get outgoing Attorney General John Ashcroft to pass my name along to the incoming Alberto Gonzales. So if I disappear mysteriously, you'll know what happened.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Robert Plant/Leadbelly - Cleveland
Just one more -
I keep forgetting to post this. It's a little review I wrote for www.tblweb.com about the Robert Plant performance at the Leadbelly Tribute show I went to see.
http://www.tightbutloose.co.uk/tour-watch/robert-plant-tour-watch/leadbelly-tribute-concert-severance-hall-cleveland-ohio/
I went with my good buddy Abe (of Stockton, USA fame) and Stephanie. I wish I could direct you to their respective blogs, but regrettably they're behind even me in the world of blogging, which is to say they don't have one - yet.
Steph did suggest that I provide some games for people who visit my site. Her love of any and all games has come under question recently, but I can tell you for sure that she loves playing categories and word association more than anything else.
Alright, so she hates games and she resented having to play along. Abe and Stephanie were joined in my Plymouth Breeze (which recently encountered a deer, by the way) by two sisters hailing from Louisiana - one of whom I work with on an irregular basis at Sears, and I thought that it would be a nice way to get through the 2.5 hour ride back from Cleveland if we played some games. As it turns out, Stephanie is not a big fan of participating in these activities, and she's going to be even more angry when she finds that I've made her the subject of this post. Anyway, what followed was some of the worst play at categories or word association (by the whole sorry lot of us, not just Steph) that I had ever witnessed. Since no one wanted to talk to each other, I thought the games would be a good idea. I was apparently quite wrong, and I've apologized for putting all of them through such an ordeal. I can say with virtually all the certainty in the world, due to one situation in particular, that the same cast of characters will never be assembled again, so they won't have to worry about it.
Los Lobos, Justin Adams, Robert Plant, Alison Krauss
I keep forgetting to post this. It's a little review I wrote for www.tblweb.com about the Robert Plant performance at the Leadbelly Tribute show I went to see.
http://www.tightbutloose.co.uk/tour-watch/robert-plant-tour-watch/leadbelly-tribute-concert-severance-hall-cleveland-ohio/
I went with my good buddy Abe (of Stockton, USA fame) and Stephanie. I wish I could direct you to their respective blogs, but regrettably they're behind even me in the world of blogging, which is to say they don't have one - yet.
Steph did suggest that I provide some games for people who visit my site. Her love of any and all games has come under question recently, but I can tell you for sure that she loves playing categories and word association more than anything else.
Alright, so she hates games and she resented having to play along. Abe and Stephanie were joined in my Plymouth Breeze (which recently encountered a deer, by the way) by two sisters hailing from Louisiana - one of whom I work with on an irregular basis at Sears, and I thought that it would be a nice way to get through the 2.5 hour ride back from Cleveland if we played some games. As it turns out, Stephanie is not a big fan of participating in these activities, and she's going to be even more angry when she finds that I've made her the subject of this post. Anyway, what followed was some of the worst play at categories or word association (by the whole sorry lot of us, not just Steph) that I had ever witnessed. Since no one wanted to talk to each other, I thought the games would be a good idea. I was apparently quite wrong, and I've apologized for putting all of them through such an ordeal. I can say with virtually all the certainty in the world, due to one situation in particular, that the same cast of characters will never be assembled again, so they won't have to worry about it.
Los Lobos, Justin Adams, Robert Plant, Alison Krauss
 |
| [Photo by Neal Hamilton of Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Museum] |
Lullaby
I can't really think of a Zep album that's mellow enough to fall asleep to. There are good acoustic songs on just about every album (except Presence, which is a somewhat more dirty and harsh album in many respects), but most of them rock a little too hard to make you want to lie down and slip away into your subconscious. I guess 1979's In Through the Out Door would probably be the best one.
It should be noted that even The Division Bell is not devoid of songs that have a little bounce to them. When I say that an album is good to put on when you want to fall asleep, I don't mean that in a negative sense. Even when you talk about a particular person you would like to fall asleep listening to, that shouldn't mean it's a negative thing about them. Think about bedtime stories read to you when you were a child. It just refers to the overall soothing quality. I think many Pink Floyd albums are generally good for this purpose for some reason. Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, and even Animals, though Animals has a little bit of the same anger behind it as Zeppelin's Presence does, although for different reasons. I wouldn't want to try to fall asleep to The Wall though - I think I'd have nightmares.
Okay...so how about that take-home test.....................................?
It should be noted that even The Division Bell is not devoid of songs that have a little bounce to them. When I say that an album is good to put on when you want to fall asleep, I don't mean that in a negative sense. Even when you talk about a particular person you would like to fall asleep listening to, that shouldn't mean it's a negative thing about them. Think about bedtime stories read to you when you were a child. It just refers to the overall soothing quality. I think many Pink Floyd albums are generally good for this purpose for some reason. Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, and even Animals, though Animals has a little bit of the same anger behind it as Zeppelin's Presence does, although for different reasons. I wouldn't want to try to fall asleep to The Wall though - I think I'd have nightmares.
Okay...so how about that take-home test.....................................?
Overtime
Let's take a gander at my sleep history over the past few days, shall we?
On Saturday, I woke up at 11am after about 7 hours of sleep. I stayed up until 6am Sunday pretending to myself that I was about to get something done. I woke up 6 hours later at 12:30 and worked until 4am Monday, when I went to bed for 3.5 hours and woke up at 7:30am. Then I was up until about 9:30am Tuesday working on yet another of those lovely take-home final exams. When I came home from class, I had to wait for the fire inspector to come over and lumber through our apartment with his shoes on...
Let me pause here for a little gripe. If you go to a person's house/apartment/place of residence and see multiple pairs of footwear outside the door, and the person who greets you at the door is not wearing shoes, aren't you kind of clued in as to what the situation is?
I grew up in a house where we always took our shoes off before coming in the house. It just makes sense. If you have a clean house and want it to remain clean, you don't drag everything into the house that you've walked in or through that day, from the sidewalk or the street or the driveway or whatever. It boggles my mind why anyone would want to wear their shoes in their house.
Alright. So back to what I was saying...I had been on the couch waiting for the fire inspector and finally got to actually get in bed after like 26 hours or so at about 10am. I slept (not straight through, because Aaron came into my room so he could place his bonsai tree on my fire escape for the purposes of "winterizing" it) until 7pm. And now it's after midnight and I have another take-home final due at 6pm today (Wednesday). My concept of night and day is absolutely screwed and I'm not sure when I'll be able to rectify it because I have so much to do (which is why I'm taking the time to post this, naturally).
So that's that. I will commence work shortly and see how far I get before I have the overwhelming urge to crawl back in bed where it is so deliciously warm and comfortable. I love sleep. Fill in your own astrological connections (Wyatt=Leo=lion=big cat=love of sleep) if you have them.
Congratulations must be given to Brett for leaving the first, and thus far only, comment on my blog.
Wow - so I was just going to give the link to his site (http://alucardblenades.blogspot.com/) and talk about how thanks to Brett, I got into listening to Floyd's The Division Bell as an album to put on when falling asleep...and when I went there, he had just posted about the same damn thing. Freaky, eh?
On Saturday, I woke up at 11am after about 7 hours of sleep. I stayed up until 6am Sunday pretending to myself that I was about to get something done. I woke up 6 hours later at 12:30 and worked until 4am Monday, when I went to bed for 3.5 hours and woke up at 7:30am. Then I was up until about 9:30am Tuesday working on yet another of those lovely take-home final exams. When I came home from class, I had to wait for the fire inspector to come over and lumber through our apartment with his shoes on...
Let me pause here for a little gripe. If you go to a person's house/apartment/place of residence and see multiple pairs of footwear outside the door, and the person who greets you at the door is not wearing shoes, aren't you kind of clued in as to what the situation is?
I grew up in a house where we always took our shoes off before coming in the house. It just makes sense. If you have a clean house and want it to remain clean, you don't drag everything into the house that you've walked in or through that day, from the sidewalk or the street or the driveway or whatever. It boggles my mind why anyone would want to wear their shoes in their house.
Alright. So back to what I was saying...I had been on the couch waiting for the fire inspector and finally got to actually get in bed after like 26 hours or so at about 10am. I slept (not straight through, because Aaron came into my room so he could place his bonsai tree on my fire escape for the purposes of "winterizing" it) until 7pm. And now it's after midnight and I have another take-home final due at 6pm today (Wednesday). My concept of night and day is absolutely screwed and I'm not sure when I'll be able to rectify it because I have so much to do (which is why I'm taking the time to post this, naturally).
So that's that. I will commence work shortly and see how far I get before I have the overwhelming urge to crawl back in bed where it is so deliciously warm and comfortable. I love sleep. Fill in your own astrological connections (Wyatt=Leo=lion=big cat=love of sleep) if you have them.
Congratulations must be given to Brett for leaving the first, and thus far only, comment on my blog.
Wow - so I was just going to give the link to his site (http://alucardblenades.blogspot.com/) and talk about how thanks to Brett, I got into listening to Floyd's The Division Bell as an album to put on when falling asleep...and when I went there, he had just posted about the same damn thing. Freaky, eh?
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
In The Light
This is a very uplifting song. Some of you might not know it, especially if you haven't spent much time around me. I guess it's one of the greatest but slightly more obscure Zeppelin songs around.
Led Zeppelin never performed this song in concert, but I had the pleasure of seeing it done live on four different occasions -
Jimmy Page & The Black Crowes on June 28, 2000 in Pittsburgh
Robert Plant - May 25, May 27, and June 3, 2001 in Boston, Philadelphia, and Toronto, respectively.
Anyway, if you don't know the song or can't think of what it sounds like, seek it out as soon as possible. It's a great song, and it will make you feel good, which is really what great music is all about.
In The Light
(Jones/Page/Plant)
And if you feel that you can't go on -
And your will's sinkin' low
Just believe and you can't go wrong.
In the light you will find the road.
You will find the road
Oh, did you ever believe that I could leave you, standing out in the cold?
I know how it feels 'cause I have slipped through to the very depths of my soul.
I just wanna show what I'd give you it is from every bend in the road
Now listen to me Oh, whoa-oh, as I was and really would be for you, too, honey
As you would for me, oh, I would share your load.
Let me share your load.
Ooh, let me share, share your load
And if you feel that you can't go on
In the light you will find the road
Though the winds of change may blow around you, that will always be so
When love is pain it can devour you, but you are never alone
I would share your load. I would share your load
Baby, let me, oh, let me
In the light
Everybody needs the light.
In the light, in the light, in the light
Light, light, light, in the light
Light, light, light, in the light, ooh, yeah
Light, light, light, in the light
Led Zeppelin never performed this song in concert, but I had the pleasure of seeing it done live on four different occasions -
Jimmy Page & The Black Crowes on June 28, 2000 in Pittsburgh
Robert Plant - May 25, May 27, and June 3, 2001 in Boston, Philadelphia, and Toronto, respectively.
Anyway, if you don't know the song or can't think of what it sounds like, seek it out as soon as possible. It's a great song, and it will make you feel good, which is really what great music is all about.
In The Light
(Jones/Page/Plant)
And if you feel that you can't go on -
And your will's sinkin' low
Just believe and you can't go wrong.
In the light you will find the road.
You will find the road
Oh, did you ever believe that I could leave you, standing out in the cold?
I know how it feels 'cause I have slipped through to the very depths of my soul.
I just wanna show what I'd give you it is from every bend in the road
Now listen to me Oh, whoa-oh, as I was and really would be for you, too, honey
As you would for me, oh, I would share your load.
Let me share your load.
Ooh, let me share, share your load
And if you feel that you can't go on
In the light you will find the road
Though the winds of change may blow around you, that will always be so
When love is pain it can devour you, but you are never alone
I would share your load. I would share your load
Baby, let me, oh, let me
In the light
Everybody needs the light.
In the light, in the light, in the light
Light, light, light, in the light
Light, light, light, in the light, ooh, yeah
Light, light, light, in the light
Monday, December 13, 2004
Second Chances
So... remember that 20-page West European Politics paper? Well, after working on it from about 5pm Sunday to 4am Monday, and then from 7:30am to 12pm Monday, I had completed approximately five pages. But I sent it off by email to my instructor, because that's when it was due. I then took a hard copy to deliver to him before 2pm, after I had taken a much-needed shower.
I happened to encounter him in the hallway, whereupon he simply stared at me, apparently waiting for me to gush excuses. Of course, I couldn't really offer any. He stared at me for about ten seconds (which is a lot of time to stare if you really think about it). He finally asked in an exasperated fashion, "what happened?"
I had no real answer, just shrugging my shoulders and replying, "I'm at a loss. I don't know."
He continued to stare. I motioned that I was going down the hall to deliver the paper to his mailbox, and we both turned and walked in opposite directions.
I had taken about 5 steps when I heard, "BRAKE!" shouted at me. Professor Muller and I were about 20 paces from each other and he asked me, "would another week help?"
I had already emailed him my plight - that I'm going to have to average over one paper per evening until Friday, and my mind was silently crying out, NO! I just wanted it to be over - to take my shitty grade on my half-assed research paper (hmm...5/20... make that "quarter-assed") and be done with it so I didn't have to devote any more waking hours to it. I don't really even have enough research to make it into 20 pages if I wanted to.
But I said, "It might." He informed me that his grades didn't have to be in until next Monday and to get it to him by then. The poor guy is under the impression that I'm a good student.
Before you laugh at that, I did get a B on the first exam (consisting of three separately graded essays written in class -B,B, and C) and then aced the second (A, A, and A), which earned me the first smiley face from a college professor that I've received or am likely to ever receive. The point is, I had gotten his hopes up, and now I was dashing them.
As much as I want this freaking semester to be over, now I'm stuck with one more weekend. And I'm sure that won't be especially productive, because I'll be working late Saturday and Sunday and in no mood to write this awful paper on the Socialist parties in the European Parliament.
When are these people going to realize that when they give me second chances, they're just giving me another opportunity to disappoint them? AAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!
I've worked out a nice little schedule for myself for the rest of this week, though. If I stay on task - no, that's not funny...stop laughing - then I should have enough time for everything.
The only problem is that I'm not quite sure when I'm going to be able to sleep.
I happened to encounter him in the hallway, whereupon he simply stared at me, apparently waiting for me to gush excuses. Of course, I couldn't really offer any. He stared at me for about ten seconds (which is a lot of time to stare if you really think about it). He finally asked in an exasperated fashion, "what happened?"
I had no real answer, just shrugging my shoulders and replying, "I'm at a loss. I don't know."
He continued to stare. I motioned that I was going down the hall to deliver the paper to his mailbox, and we both turned and walked in opposite directions.
I had taken about 5 steps when I heard, "BRAKE!" shouted at me. Professor Muller and I were about 20 paces from each other and he asked me, "would another week help?"
I had already emailed him my plight - that I'm going to have to average over one paper per evening until Friday, and my mind was silently crying out, NO! I just wanted it to be over - to take my shitty grade on my half-assed research paper (hmm...5/20... make that "quarter-assed") and be done with it so I didn't have to devote any more waking hours to it. I don't really even have enough research to make it into 20 pages if I wanted to.
But I said, "It might." He informed me that his grades didn't have to be in until next Monday and to get it to him by then. The poor guy is under the impression that I'm a good student.
Before you laugh at that, I did get a B on the first exam (consisting of three separately graded essays written in class -B,B, and C) and then aced the second (A, A, and A), which earned me the first smiley face from a college professor that I've received or am likely to ever receive. The point is, I had gotten his hopes up, and now I was dashing them.
As much as I want this freaking semester to be over, now I'm stuck with one more weekend. And I'm sure that won't be especially productive, because I'll be working late Saturday and Sunday and in no mood to write this awful paper on the Socialist parties in the European Parliament.
When are these people going to realize that when they give me second chances, they're just giving me another opportunity to disappoint them? AAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!
I've worked out a nice little schedule for myself for the rest of this week, though. If I stay on task - no, that's not funny...stop laughing - then I should have enough time for everything.
The only problem is that I'm not quite sure when I'm going to be able to sleep.
The Dude
"What makes a man, Mr. Lebowski?"
"Uh...I don't know, sir."
"Is it being prepared to do the right thing, whatever the cost? Isn't that what makes a man?"
"Sure - that and a pair of testicles."
"You're joking. But perhaps you're right."
"Mind if I do a J?"
__________________________
"Uh...I don't know, sir."
"Is it being prepared to do the right thing, whatever the cost? Isn't that what makes a man?"
"Sure - that and a pair of testicles."
"You're joking. But perhaps you're right."
"Mind if I do a J?"
__________________________
Sunday, December 12, 2004
Radiohead
So I've had Pablo Honey and The Bends for years, and I enjoyed both albums. However, I never quite made the leap into Radiohead that many of my friends did. Recently though, I went on a little BMG streak (as mentioned in a previous post) and bought OK Computer, Kid A, and Amnesiac. I've heard all the albums before, but never listened to them on my own. I've been listening to them non-stop now for a little less than a week. I've had "I Might Be Wrong" from Amnesiac on repeat for the last half-hour or more - something I hardly ever do with songs or albums. Good stuff.
Sign Me Up!
Here we have further evidence of just what kind of all-volunteer military President Bush kept insisting that we would always have...
http://www.marionstar.com/news/stories/20041211/localnews/1731211.html
http://www.marionstar.com/news/stories/20041211/localnews/1731211.html
Fate
Democrat Adlai Stevenson ran against Eisenhower in 1952.
A woman at a campaign rally said,
"Mr. Stevenson, you have the vote of every thinking person."
Stevenson deftly replied, "That's not enough, madam. We need a majority."
I don't know if I became so interested in history because I saw parallels in the past and current events, or if I continually see parallels because I'm a history major.
Of course, I won't be majoring in anything soon, because I have a disease that prevents me from doing any work that I absolutely must.
Anyway, I think I was probably attracted to this field because I'm always focused on what has already taken place and how it constantly affects everything that comes afterward. It is the very nature of time, I suppose. Time's Arrow. Now I DO sound like Brett-Dogg, Philosopher Extraordinaire...
I've had people, specifically in relationships or - ahem - just after them, tell me that I was obsessed with the past. I usually just give the smartass reply that "well, I am a history major."
I'm not sure where it ends, though. Does it end? While on the 1999 Senior Trip in Cleveland, we encountered a palm-reader ('Palmist?') on the docks before boarding that wonderful - cough - "Dinner/Dance Cruise." She was an Indian woman ("dots, not feathers" as Robin Williams would say) who, for a mere five dollars, had something like this to say: "you will be very happy in life...eventually. First you must let go of your past so that you may move on and find your happiness."
Now, that may seem like pretty general advice, but as is the case with any successful fortune-teller or palm-reader or psychic, your clientele must be able to relate your general message to something specific in their own lives. I was able to do just that. At that time, I was very much stuck on the whole Leigh Baumgart situation (the bulk of which had ended almost a year before) and was very much still stewing over her, alternately angry at her and then desperate for another opportunity. The advice from the palm-reader made perfect sense to me. Did I follow it? Of course not. I spent that evening being terse and especially unfriendly at dinner to Leigh and my best friend Ben, with whom she had attended Senior Prom. After dinner, I left the cabin to go up on the deck. I remember talking to Michelle Ribaudo and Mr. Paterniti about my future and complete lack of any idea as to what I was going to do (wow...things have changed so much in five years....) and stalking around the ship for the whole night as seemingly everyone else danced and had a great time.
So have I started to take that advice yet? No, not really. In reality, despite periodic assertions to the contrary, I am still obsessed with my relationship with Destini. I think of her on a daily basis. We have now been apart for longer than we were actually together (by a score of roughly 27 months to 26 months, or something very close to that). I compare every subsequent "relationship" or "interaction" that I have to what she and I had together, which - while not always completely stable - was always incredibly fiery, and passionate. Everything else pales, and fails in this comparison. I bring her up in conversation frequently because I am frequently reminded of her and the things that we did. I use her name less often than I could - many times I stop myself because I realize I must sound ridiculous. I would feel much worse about still thinking so often about her if I could actually believe that it was nothing more than a failed relationship. Instead, to me, it is a failed opportunity for true happiness. I realize I did not do all that I could to keep her, and I realize how much she loved me. And finally, I realize just how badly I fucked it up. So I don't feel too badly about not getting over it yet, because I don't really see myself ever completely reconciling myself to what I did to end the greatest thing I've ever had.
Wow, so it wasn't too long before she showed up on here, was it? I was going to make a post about how this wasn't just going to be a spot for me to try in vain to be funny - it was also going to be a spot where I would always try to be my brutally honest self, in spite of any and all consequences and repercussions. But now I guess I don't really have to write that, because who else puts this kind of shit out there for everyone to see just how screwed up they are? Just me!
Anyway, after I finish not writing my papers this week, I'll have plenty of time to post on here about what an utter failure I've become. And in the meantime, I'm sure I'll find time to throw some other thoughts up as well.
Goodnight everyone. If you have someone dear to you, hold onto them. They might not come back if you let them go.
A woman at a campaign rally said,
"Mr. Stevenson, you have the vote of every thinking person."
Stevenson deftly replied, "That's not enough, madam. We need a majority."
I don't know if I became so interested in history because I saw parallels in the past and current events, or if I continually see parallels because I'm a history major.
Of course, I won't be majoring in anything soon, because I have a disease that prevents me from doing any work that I absolutely must.
Anyway, I think I was probably attracted to this field because I'm always focused on what has already taken place and how it constantly affects everything that comes afterward. It is the very nature of time, I suppose. Time's Arrow. Now I DO sound like Brett-Dogg, Philosopher Extraordinaire...
I've had people, specifically in relationships or - ahem - just after them, tell me that I was obsessed with the past. I usually just give the smartass reply that "well, I am a history major."
I'm not sure where it ends, though. Does it end? While on the 1999 Senior Trip in Cleveland, we encountered a palm-reader ('Palmist?') on the docks before boarding that wonderful - cough - "Dinner/Dance Cruise." She was an Indian woman ("dots, not feathers" as Robin Williams would say) who, for a mere five dollars, had something like this to say: "you will be very happy in life...eventually. First you must let go of your past so that you may move on and find your happiness."
Now, that may seem like pretty general advice, but as is the case with any successful fortune-teller or palm-reader or psychic, your clientele must be able to relate your general message to something specific in their own lives. I was able to do just that. At that time, I was very much stuck on the whole Leigh Baumgart situation (the bulk of which had ended almost a year before) and was very much still stewing over her, alternately angry at her and then desperate for another opportunity. The advice from the palm-reader made perfect sense to me. Did I follow it? Of course not. I spent that evening being terse and especially unfriendly at dinner to Leigh and my best friend Ben, with whom she had attended Senior Prom. After dinner, I left the cabin to go up on the deck. I remember talking to Michelle Ribaudo and Mr. Paterniti about my future and complete lack of any idea as to what I was going to do (wow...things have changed so much in five years....) and stalking around the ship for the whole night as seemingly everyone else danced and had a great time.
So have I started to take that advice yet? No, not really. In reality, despite periodic assertions to the contrary, I am still obsessed with my relationship with Destini. I think of her on a daily basis. We have now been apart for longer than we were actually together (by a score of roughly 27 months to 26 months, or something very close to that). I compare every subsequent "relationship" or "interaction" that I have to what she and I had together, which - while not always completely stable - was always incredibly fiery, and passionate. Everything else pales, and fails in this comparison. I bring her up in conversation frequently because I am frequently reminded of her and the things that we did. I use her name less often than I could - many times I stop myself because I realize I must sound ridiculous. I would feel much worse about still thinking so often about her if I could actually believe that it was nothing more than a failed relationship. Instead, to me, it is a failed opportunity for true happiness. I realize I did not do all that I could to keep her, and I realize how much she loved me. And finally, I realize just how badly I fucked it up. So I don't feel too badly about not getting over it yet, because I don't really see myself ever completely reconciling myself to what I did to end the greatest thing I've ever had.
Wow, so it wasn't too long before she showed up on here, was it? I was going to make a post about how this wasn't just going to be a spot for me to try in vain to be funny - it was also going to be a spot where I would always try to be my brutally honest self, in spite of any and all consequences and repercussions. But now I guess I don't really have to write that, because who else puts this kind of shit out there for everyone to see just how screwed up they are? Just me!
Anyway, after I finish not writing my papers this week, I'll have plenty of time to post on here about what an utter failure I've become. And in the meantime, I'm sure I'll find time to throw some other thoughts up as well.
Goodnight everyone. If you have someone dear to you, hold onto them. They might not come back if you let them go.
Saturday, December 11, 2004
Wading into the World of the Blog
What to do when you have a 20-page paper due on Monday that you haven't started, in addition to two papers you haven't completed that were due this week?
If you answered: "why, you would update your blog for the first time in eight months, of course," then you're a winner.
So I recently found out my good friends Kristen and Biz were heading to Spain and Morocco next month. When John comes back, he's going off to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. Since that's in Tanzania, I thought of Joe Holler and checked out his blog, especially all the places he's been. And I've come to the conclusion that my life sucks. Well, let me rephrase that. I have arrived, once again, to the conclusion that my life sucks. Yes, that's more accurate.
I can talk all I want about the books I've read and my thoughts on the Ukrainian elections and even wax philosophically on the color of traffic lights like my friend Brett...but the fact remains that there are other people out there, many of whom are pretty good friends of mine, who have had real life experiences.
Meanwhile, it's all well and good to go to another concert and to buy fifty more CDs from BMG and then figure out that I need a new giant CD case...but where is this getting me? Well, it's getting me to complain, I guess.
I think this blog might be a good idea, since it will allow me to bitch almost non-stop, but you guys will only read it if you want to. So it's a win-win proposition. I get to complain and you don't have to hear it. Or read it. Unless you really want to.
With that said, I shouldn't really be updating it until I actually get my work done. But we know what will happen there, don't we?
Stay tuned, and I'll tackle more pressing issues in the future....
If you answered: "why, you would update your blog for the first time in eight months, of course," then you're a winner.
So I recently found out my good friends Kristen and Biz were heading to Spain and Morocco next month. When John comes back, he's going off to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. Since that's in Tanzania, I thought of Joe Holler and checked out his blog, especially all the places he's been. And I've come to the conclusion that my life sucks. Well, let me rephrase that. I have arrived, once again, to the conclusion that my life sucks. Yes, that's more accurate.
I can talk all I want about the books I've read and my thoughts on the Ukrainian elections and even wax philosophically on the color of traffic lights like my friend Brett...but the fact remains that there are other people out there, many of whom are pretty good friends of mine, who have had real life experiences.
Meanwhile, it's all well and good to go to another concert and to buy fifty more CDs from BMG and then figure out that I need a new giant CD case...but where is this getting me? Well, it's getting me to complain, I guess.
I think this blog might be a good idea, since it will allow me to bitch almost non-stop, but you guys will only read it if you want to. So it's a win-win proposition. I get to complain and you don't have to hear it. Or read it. Unless you really want to.
With that said, I shouldn't really be updating it until I actually get my work done. But we know what will happen there, don't we?
Stay tuned, and I'll tackle more pressing issues in the future....
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