Two Thirds of a Masterpiece is More Than Enough

I've been back on the farm for six days now, and I can say with certainty that spending a considerable amount of time here is much more enjoyable when one can go outside and sit on the porch with a cup of coffee without the threat of frostbite looming. One positive side-effect is that I've covered at least two thirds of the required reading for one my classes next semester. With two weeks left before the first day of class, I think I can safely say that I'll finish with that and be able to get a head-start on a couple other classes.

I suppose I should change the strings on my bass as well; we had our first show--holy crap!--a little over two weeks ago already. I guess time flies. Anyway, despite my halfhearted attempts at maintenance, the strings are rusting, so they have to go. The gig went very well, perhaps better than we expected, and the turnout was also surprising, considering the forecast blizzard that began in the midst of our first set. It was a learning experience, and now I think we'll really be ready to blast the roof off a place. For anyone reading this that made it, thanks for braving the weather and checking us out. For those that didn't make it, no worries; there will be other opportunities. Oh, I also got a message from Ryan, our guitarist/vocalist, that he started up a new website. Check it out and see what you think. It appears he added "Some Rare Footage" at the bottom of the main page. My bandwidth is only slightly better than dialup out here, but I waited it out and discovered that he posted a clip from one of our practice sessions; a song that pretty much came to life as you hear it there. It seems that we need to go back through some of our recordings and dig out some of those gems for polishing.

I had some things to write here other than just what boils down to a glorified Dear Diary entry. Sitting here in my old stomping grounds, a place I admittedly love to hate, there has been a constant barrage of occurrences that drag me into bouts of sappy sentimentality one minute, and then throw me into fits of rage at my perception of the general stupidity of people. I say "my perception" because there is a sliver of reason as I type this, as well as the realization that throwing everyone into the same category is at the very most untrue, and at the very least unfair. It also makes me look like an elitist snob. This snapshot came from a dynamic banner ad the other day, and I think it hints at how I've been feeling lately: as if I'm being looked down upon in a manner that reveals just how ignorant that person is.



If I have to explain the irony of this ad, then it's time for you to brush up on you're grammar.

I think I'm going to blame it on what I've been reading lately--pure Vonnegut. Between his fiction and non-fiction, there's this air of sadness even in the cheeriest of subjects. For instance, Vonnegut writes often about the need for inclusion in large groups, whether that means family or people that you treat as family--and most people know that family doesn't always treat each other very well. As soon as he makes his point about inclusion, Vonnegut's next essay discusses the suicides of his mother and sister, his father's circumstantial fade into obscurity, his son's mental breakdown and institutionalization, and how much of his own life that has been spent in isolation due to his career. Like I was saying earlier, there's a pendulum swinging to extremes and I find myself yearning to be around people only to find myself turning on my heel and beating the door down as soon as it shuts behind me. Kurt Vonnegut (Jr.) is interesting as hell, but I think this immersion in his writing is definitely affecting me.

Or is that effecting? I'm kidding...

I am beautiful in the water.

So I was just thinking back on something that happened a while ago and thought I might share the story.

My friends, Pete & Jo, have a son named Sam. They've turned him into a Dr. Who fan at an early age, and it's fun watching him geek out. I mean, how surreal is it to watch a five-year old--the age he was at the time of this story--run around and spout off details about Daleks, sonic screwdrivers, and the TARDIS? Let me tell you, it ranks right up there; almost as high as watching him freak out in his crib wearing the pair of huge green Hulk hands I bought him before he could even walk. He didn't have arms anymore, only shoulders that sprouted foam fists which growled and made smashing noises, but that's really another story altogether.

Anyway, I stopped by one day for some reason or another, and Pete took me upstairs to show me the TARDIS console that he and Sam built out of cardboard boxes, duct tape (of course), and random sciency-looking gadgets from around the house. There's a large amount of custom fabrication in this particular household, and Sam is (was) a five-year old after all, so having something built from spare parts doesn't seem all that out of the ordinary. I think what did it for me was watching him pull levers like mad, screaming about time travel and saving Earth from Daleks, and otherwise displaying an eerie comprehension of themes gleaned from storylines that should be way too complex for someone who had only recently begun spelling his own name legibly.

As I ooo'ed and aahh'ed over his creation, I did what most adults would do to someone Sam's age; I talked down to him. Well, not really down to him--it was more like polite condescension. All I said, with the pure intention of making him feel good about his TARDIS console, was, "Man, Sam, I sure wish I had one of these."

Sam paused to regard me with a strange look on his face. "Whatever," he said.

After a split-second, Pete and I started laughing and turned to head back down the stairs. Pete proclaimed in a tone that rang with both fatherly pride and pity (for me) that I just got dissed by a five-year old.

"Yeah, and I didn't even have a comeback," I said between chuckles. That was the last time I talked down to Sam, come to think of it, but he still punishes me for it by pummeling me with plastic light-sabers.

I think death by titty-twister would be pretty gruesome.

I can't read anymore. I can't write anymore. However, I can throw out a shameless plug for my band, Insignia77, and our first gig coming up on the 18th of December.



You should come to the show, and bring a friend or fifty. And feel free to save this flyer and distribute it to everyone above and beyond the fifty you bring that night. Also, visit these links for more info, or to hear a song or two beforehand.

Facebook
MySpace
Voodoo Lounge

Well, I had all kinds of insightful gems to share with the handful of people whose strange--and sometimes disturbing--search terms accidentally pointed here, but I'm really tapped out at the moment. Here, have some more shameless promotion.


Photo by Dr. Mitch Strauss

If you made it this far, I probably know you.

Spock Thoughts killed the hamster.

Seriously.

My Vitreous Humor Hurts

This happened to me a couple nights ago; true story.

I called the local Chinese restaurant--it's really local because it's only a couple blocks down from me--and ordered one of my favorite meals: sesame chicken. Hey, I usually walk to pick it up when I place an order, but sometimes I feel lazy. Besides, if they have a minimum order for delivery and I fulfill that requirement, then I don't feel guilty in the slightest.

So I'm doing some busy work as I wait for my yummy food, and finally I get a call on my cell. See, the thing here is that I live in an access-controlled complex, so when someone dials my room number out front, my phone rings. The number calling me now is the delivery guy's cell phone. I answer, and despite my efforts, all I really understand is something about my food and what sounds like "a couple minutes" followed by a bit of nervous laughter. I say okay, hang up, and return to what I was doing, because I assumed that he said something about bringing my food in a couple minutes.

A couple minutes later, my phone rings. It's the same number. I pick it up and am greeted with, "Hey, you coming to get your food or what?!?" I didn't have any problem understanding him that time.

So here's the deal: if I order delivery, I've entered into an agreement that my food will be brought to my door, not the sidewalk outside my building. I've also decided that I don't appreciate being yelled at by the delivery guy. In anticipation of the possibility of being banned from this Chinese restaurant, I'm entertaining the idea of demonstrating my unwillingness to bow to their will and insist that they do indeed deliver my food all the way up to my doorstep.

Like I said, a worst-case scenario will end with me finding myself banned from ordering if I refuse to play fetch, but on the other hand, there will be no more midnight Chinese, which is probably the healthy alternative overall.

Lemon bars and chocolate milk.

Hi, my name's Erik. I have a blog. I forgot about it, or at least that's how it would seem to most.

I was reading something recently that made me realize something: I can't remember the last time I've been embarrassed. I mean, there are times when I've probably flushed at something I did, or tried to manufacture a slight of hand to draw attention away from something that could lead to an embarrassing situation, but even then it's been so long since I can honestly say that I was truly, deeply embarrassed, I really have to sit and ponder what it felt like. I've been embarrassed for someone else, but I think that feels different.

Maybe I should pursue situations in which I attempt to be embarrassed, but I think that would actually do the opposite, or at least not result in a product pure enough to be considered. I think true embarrassment comes from the unexpected exposure, the revealing of a secret so hidden, buried, or altogether forgotten, that the discoverer (or discoverers) will find themselves in a position to expose and exploit it for their own purposes. I guess I'm convincing myself now that it all comes down to power, or an interpretation of power that the person embarrassed implicitly grants whoever they let put them in that situation.

And... I'm spent. I believe I shall retreat to caffeinate and regain my strength. I'm so embarrassed.

Achieving the remoterate distinctory possibiliation.

I am about to put in a movie to pass out to in the first night at my new apartment. Woohoo! I looked in my fridge and found a bottle of V8, butter, hot dogs, bologna, mayonnaise, pickles, leftover hot and sour soup from Chinese delivery, and a bottle of water.

Oh, it appears that I'm already settled in nicely.

Punctuated Progress

I decided to sit in front of the fan for a few minutes and take a breather, as I'm currently in the process of moving. My new place is seriously going to be a palace compared to where I've been living, and the best part of all is that I won't have roommates anymore. For some odd reason, over the past few years I find that people tend to build non-verbalized expectations around me and then try to punish me when I don't anticipate and fulfill them. In this last case, I began to find that I was in trouble for things I not only wasn't doing, but also the things that I did do. Unfortunately, when I made the effort to discuss the situation and hopefully resolve it, I was met instead with an ultimatum. No, that's not right, it was more of a decree passed down by royalty. In doing so, I was left with an unanswered attack on my character and no discourse that would allow all of us to possibly see the other's perspective, or at the very least, save a friendship.

Ok, in a quick aside, I have to give an overview of this absurd attack on my character. For being asked to do a favor, which I did, I was informed that I was "extremely selfish" with a condescending look. The favor: to cook dinner, which I came through on so far as to buy all the food and prepare it all myself. Why I'm selfish: I didn't ask when they wanted it cooked for them. Yup, that appears to be it, but of course, I wasn't honored with the dignity of any further explanation. When I brought it up again later and denied the accusation, I was scoffed at, which should apparently have convinced me of my guilt. So I said, "Ok, explain to me how that is selfish. Convince me," to which I was answered simply, "It's debatable," and then he walked away. Yes, it was a crushing defeat, as the superior intellect apparently doesn't have to justify flagrant accusations when they know they're right.

For intelligent people that consider themselves "enlightened", I find the behavior unbelievable, and if I weren't so disgusted with them and the situation, I would be a bit ashamed for them. As with many people that I have absolutely no respect for, things basically degraded to the point where I stopped talking to them and we were happy to ignore each other. I'm assuming the oppressive atmosphere that resulted is why they have left for the weekend, allowing me to take my time getting my things together and have probably the most relaxed move I can remember. I will now take this last opportunity to offer them a heartfelt thanks for the disappearing act, because I can't foresee any conversation or light banter in the future. If I were to verbalize anything, it would probably sound more like "Fuck you."

I have to copy/paste what I wrote a while ago in the "About Me" section of my facebook page. It seems to be ringing truer all the time.

When you first met me, I might've seemed aloof and one of the biggest assholes you've ever met. After a while, I might suddenly transform into the nicest guy you've ever met. After a couple years, I'll probably find a way to reattain my original status.

Heh.

--
Disclaimer: After becoming a student of creative writing, one of my roommates gave me permission to use anything from the house as subject matter for my writing. Well, there you go, and thanks again. I'll be sure to remember that.

You mean they sell refried beans and cheese already mixed?!?

Listen closely, this is important. When it is so cold that you're standing there hugging yourself over the top of your huge coat for warmth yet still don't notice that your shorts have fallen off because your legs are so numb, it's probably a good idea to wear pants.

I just learned this in my dream last night. I wish I could remember the rest of it, because I'm assuming it would have been entertaining. I'm just surprised and happy that I can recall any of it, because my dreams don't like to be remembered. Truly, this is a day for celebrating life. And the pursuit of, uhm, dreams.

Rednecks loves 'em them whip antennea.

I was actually listening to the radio as I was driving earlier today. This is something I don't normally do, considering I'm not usually in my car long enough to hear more than one song per trip, so I don't even bother listening to the crap that some demographic study has decided would be the most popular and draw the most ad revenue in that particular listening area. As it so happens, I had a couple miles to go, so I turned up the volume and caught a commercial break. The first commercial played was using an emotionally charged narrative of a father describing in a passionate voice how he had "put his son in a salvaged vehicle" that had caused another accident. It was almost disturbing how mad he sounded, as if he would beat down the person he bought the car from if he ever saw him again.

Now, a couple commercials later, there's an ad for an auto repair place, and their angle was that some guy had an accident and they fixed it so that it looked like nothing had ever happened to the car. The background singers from the jingle said something at the end about "What accident?" to which he answers, "Right," in a sly, nudge nudge, wink wink voice.

I hate marketing.

Mr. Impressive. Check him out. No, seriously, check him out.

I couldn't take the hype any longer and finally braved it to the local movie picture show house to see if I couldn't sneak me a seat to watch the summer's blockbuster.



Yes, I stole that picture, and considering it was from some random guy's blog, I'm assuming he stole it as well. I guess that makes my guilt compounded, or something like that. Anyway, just see this movie, it's worth it. I have to admit, I was never that big a fan of Heath Ledger, and all those public displays of mourning were almost enough to make me dry heave. I know, I know, I sound extremely callous, but think about this; of all the people that wail and moan when the latest darling of the spotlight passes on, how many knew him, and I mean really knew him? Not all that many, would be my guess. Imagine if all those people would be anywhere near as affected by the death of, say, a soldier overseas, or maybe even one of those nameless faces they see semi-regularly during their daily routines. Oh, that's right; those guys are nobodies.

Yeesh, I've apparently got some venom pent up that needed to get out. Sorry, Heath. To quote your last character, "Nothing personal." Hell, I even have to agree with one of my friends who said that he kicked Jack Nicholson's Joker all the way to next week and back. And he did.

So back to the flick, and the rest of this paragraph deals with subject matter from the film, not specific details. If you haven't seen it and would rather not know anything, then skip to the next paragraph now. There was some interesting content that I was watching for after talking to another friend from school who writes movie reviews. He mentioned something about how people of the Republican and/or sick in the head persuasion who think that torture and invasion of privacy are justifiable means to an end are rumbling on the Intertubes about how this movie exemplifies their viewpoint, which it does - sorta. Funny how a movie made in an age when these are extreme hot button topics is actually only using current examples of themes the Batman comics - sorry, graphic novels - have been using for quite some time. Batman has always been one of those characters with questionable morals. Keep in mind, his primary motivation was to kill someone for revenge. It must've been that damn Adam West and his hippified version of Batman from the 60's that turned everyone's memories all saccharine and made them forget that Batman could probably be more accurately defined as an anti-hero, something that isn't necessarily such a good thing to be, whether it's in reference to a person or a country. That, and Adam West makes for a kick ass mayor of Quahog.

I also had to fight the urge multiple times to run out to the snack bar and buy the largest beverage I could in order to throw it as hard as possible at someone's head. As an open letter to the general populace, please refrain from texting, or for that matter, from simply opening your damn cellphones and creating a small spotlight during the movie. I tend to like to sit towards the back, and as much as I try to stay away from people, it never fails that some dirthead is so important that communication with the outside world cannot be put on hold for the two hours of the film that they voluntarily paid to see. How, oh how did humanity suffer through a movie before all these miraculous advances in communications technology? Some days, I think I'd just giggle my ass off to see something that would take it all away, if only for a day or two. All the poor, poor people. I guess it's easy for me to say, sitting here in front of my computer, but at least I'm confident that I'd take the opportunity to tear into this stack of books I've been wanting to read that almost seems to grow faster than I can get through them.

That's it for now. I have no idea why I'm in such a sour mood today, but maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and not feel like snapping at everything. Wish me luck.

He had a cop mustache.

I'm sure strange things happen on a daily basis to plenty of people, but it just seems sometimes like the simplest things just put a spin on my day and won't get out of my mind. This just happened today. I ran into someone that I haven't talked to in at least 2-3 years. I have to admit, I've seen this person since then, but sometimes I can call upon my ninja talents and blend into the crowd with a puff of smoke, disappearing from view. Unfortunately there was no crowd today, so I was caught in the open and forced to access my conversation files and scan them for categories of chit chat that were polite yet gave the impression that I was pressed for time. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy at heart, but also one of those people that can trap you forever once he gets going, much like some of my blog entries. I assume that just about anyone can relate to this type of situation, so take a moment to imagine a person in your life that fits this bill while I construct the setting.

I was in one my favorite haunts, the local coffee shop, listening to music and staring at my laptop as I tried to pry the current story idea from the murky haze in my brain and hoping that caffeine would be the catalyst I needed to make it happen. When I gave up and started packing everything into my man purse to retreat home, I heard someone say, "Erik?" from somewhere close behind me. I was caught. I won't go into the details of the entire conversation, because it was basically just small talk and catching up, but there was one thing at the beginning that just keeps rattling around in my memory, and I had to write it down. One of the first things he said to me as I was shutting down my laptop was, "I didn't know you could type."

For people that know me, this is obviously an absurd observation, as I practically live at my computer desk with (usually) no less than two, sometimes three computers running random processes simultaneously. That, and I'm currently an English grad student in creative writing. But to have someone, especially this day in age, be surprised that someone can type and feel they need to comment on it just spiked my strange-o-meter into the red zone.

I'm currently self-medicating with a cold beer and some metal music, and I think I'll pull through. Please, no donations or gifts.

Cream Cheese, Texas & Farts.

I recently took a quick peek at some of the stats for my blog, and found an interesting list of the Google search terms people used that have led them here. They are as follows, and in order of how many times they were used (yes, some of them were used more than once):

klingon freak show
freak nipples
buttcakes
"and he kicked him"
freak pain show
freakshow doll
i kicked him in the ding ding
iv caffeine
joan nixt
klingon degree grads
methods to notify next of kin
sleeper has awakened

This may sound strange, but it makes me proud to see such a weird collection of phrases with which I can claim some sort of relationship. I mean, to have a majority of obvious words like "klingon" and "freak" coupled with things like "nipples", "buttcakes", and "methods to notify next of kin" makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. By warm and fuzzy, I mean horrified, but in a good way.

Possibly the most disturbing of that entire list, at least in my opinion, is "klingon degree grads." I just picture some Trekkie geek sitting there and having this grand idea of having a postgraduate degree in Klingon studies. The more I think of it, the more it seems possible, and I shit myself just a little. I mean, a couple years ago someone actually convinced a panel of, uhm, educated people to let them work for a degree in air guitar. I guess anything's possible.

I actually feel a little bad for my friend, Joan, because she's an awesome musician, and it doesn't seem right somehow for her name to be in that list. Oh well, if I know her, she'd probably get a good guffaw out of it.

Just in case, I'll link to her MySpace page again. Click it and listen to her music. Then watch Mr. T talk about 80s fashions.



I hate to say it, but I think Mr. T looks like he's dressed far better than any of those chumps or chumpettes in that video. And he's surprisingly calmer than anyone else too. They must have fed him some sort of tranquilizer before filming. That would explain why he'd even agree to hosting a fashion show in the first place.

Insanity comes in many flavors.

I mean, seriously, how is anyone in this video not cracking up? I'd never be able to make it through an entire take.



Sorry for this blog turning into a simple video-sharing site. I'll fix that eventually.

Wesley Crusher = Mushy Shorts

My friend, TR, sent this to our email list today. He accused me of having seen it already. I'm considering taking offense, but first I shall assault you with it.



Now I'm going to run away before I start watching more episodes.

Leave it behind.

Time slips away from me so easily anymore. Since finals ended, I had such good intentions of updating this blog with all the spare time I was going to have. Was going to have.

Short update:

- The semester went great and I'm looking forward to this fall. I've got story ideas in my head and have finally started writing one now. So far, the direction it's taking is all good. I also sent off two stories for publication. Who knows if they'll be accepted, but it felt good just to send them.

- The band situation is keeping me pretty busy, but as of now it's my main focus for the summer. Things are going better than I ever could have imagined. Seriously. Recordings are in progress and hopefully full songs will be available for public consumption very soon.

- Gas prices suck my ass. Ok, so that's not news, but it's looking like I won't be going anywhere major this summer unless I want to reduce my diet to rice, canned tuna, trail mix and various fruits and veggies. Actually, that doesn't sound all that bad. Hmmm, maybe I'll have to rethink this. Either way, it won't be anytime soon.

- Service Pack 3 for XP is out. Uhm, yeah.

- It's nearly the end of May, and that means some partying is going down at the end of this week.

- The end of days is upon us. The New Kids on the Block have reunited. We must now choose sides for the coming apocalypse. I'm glad I have my chain mail armor and swords.

- I've been terrible about getting in touch with people lately. Well, for as long as I can remember. I haven't forgotten about any of you, and I'll do my best to try and touch base individually.


Here's a video from Tool. Sorry about the sound quality, but you can listen to it from my playlist on the right.


Also, here's a picture that I made in photoshop that was inspired by that song.


I'm going to pack up my laptop and go get some coffee now. The writing calls.

Fish smell.

So is that a description, or a statement listing an unknown ability? Hmmm.

Apparently I have been summoned to entertain and distract. Here then, is a demonic picture of my roommate's schnoodle (schnauzer + poodle = schnoodle) taken with my recently acquired phone. Heh, the link says that they're easy to train. Further proof that there are exceptions to every rule. This one's name is Oscar, and if you're not Jeremy (his favorite owner) or have food (which also includes making him think you have food), then the chances of getting him to do something are relatively slim. He is a blast though.


Here is a potential dose of cute overload.



And here's an old classic that I just now thought to post. Is it stupid or genius? Is there a way it can be both? Circly square, squarely circle.



Ok, I'm going to curl up and watch this romance film I just rented. It's called Cloverfield and has me quite worried that I will come away disappointed. I just watched Iron Man last Friday, and that's going to be a hard act to follow. Enough with this; on with the viewing.

Doll Face

So, I haven't been here for a while. I've been here, just too busy to actually acknowledge the blog though. Only a few more weeks, then the freedom of summer will allow me to wander around penniless, wondering what I'm going to do besides biking and reading. Well, I will have the band, so that'll help a lot. Hopefully we'll be able to get some more material down so we can start playing some shows very soon. I'll be posting info when that happens. Notice that I didn't say 'if'.

Ok, the real reason I logged on was to share this video that was sent to me earlier. Holy crap, is it cool. Yeah, I'm a writer too. Marvel at my powers of description.

They watch on, evil, incredibly stupid, enjoying my destruction.

Yeah, haven't posted for a while; lots of things going on now that Spring Break is over. I meant to post something over the week, but I just never seemed to find the time. I read a lot, some of it for school, but most of it for myself - which was great. I ran a few miles too, and this time I took my camera along to show a bit of what I see on my usual route. It's just under three miles, and the quiet is surprisingly enjoyable. Usually when I run in the gym, I have my iPod blaring to the point where I hear absolutely nothing else.


Anyway, this first one is of my frequent view of the running team. Actually, they're normally running through the ditches and exploring the fields. I just wanted to take the opportunity to get a shot of them when they were both running together. The second shot is of my view that last morning I decided to hit the road. I was pretty pleased with how the rays of light were caught shining down out of the clouds.


I also had to stop for a while on my way back and take a few shots of the old house near where I grew up. I actually remember this house being, well, habitable at least. Not so much anymore. Just about every other building on the acreage has fallen in on itself. I took quite a few pictures, but these are just a couple that I thought stood out. I might put a few others up later.









I guess it's nice to be back to feeling productive again, but I wasn't prepared for how used to taking it easy I'd become over the break. The transition back hasn't been all that smooth for me either. My immediate family and most of my closest friends have already heard the news, but my Monday morning started off with a bang, or a crash-tinkle, or something like that. In a state midway between sleeping and waking, I could have sworn I'd heard something outside at around 7:30-ish. I decided to get up and stumble down the stairs for that first-thing-in-the-morning pee when my roommate almost ran into me coming up the stairs.

"You need to put on some shoes and a coat," he said. Yeah, shit was going down, I could see it in his face. So, I mumbled something about peeing first, then threw on some pants, shoes, and my hoodie and headed outside to see some dude I've never seen before standing awe-struck in front of his Sonoma, the bumper cracked and dented pretty badly. Then I realized that my car was resting with the passenger side wheels on the grass about twenty five feet away from where I'd parked it the day before. Yup, this guy was driving to work on the morning after a heavy frost and hadn't let his windshield warm up enough before turning onto my street to drive straight into the sun. This is what he did to my car.


Now you might see this and think, geeze, that doesn't look so bad. Well, he hit the back of my car, and the front you see here is what happened after he launched it into the utility pole in front of where I live. Yup, smacked the tire hard enough to dent the hubcap, then slid down the panel and door, shearing off my side mirror. Good times. Here's what the back looks like.






Needless to say, when I called my insurance company to report the claim, I could almost hear the smile in the guy's voice after I told him that the other guy hit my parked car. As the story stands right now, I've been told by both my company and the other guy's that my car will most likely be totaled out, but I have to wait for his company's local agent to come here personally to assess the damage and get the ball rolling on my compensation.

The most ironic thing about this is, like I told my dad when I called him to tell him about it, this has been a dream of mine over the years of shitty cars I've owned, but when I finally have a car that runs great, gets good gas mileage, and doesn't burn or leak any oil, it gets totaled. It's just not fair. Boo hoo. I must've manifested the incident too late because I didn't wish for it hard enough when it really mattered.

Oh well, I guess as long as his insurance company doesn't try to screw me, everything will turn out alright. In fact, I've been halfway considering going Alexander Supertramp-style and just not get another car. I have a mountain bike that I could use to get everywhere I need to go, but those winter months might get a little long without an enclosed vehicle. I'll be sure to post the end results when I get this mess all wrapped up. Until then, back to the homework grind...

King of the Road

Ah, spring break; so far I've drunk superhuman amounts of coffee, drank a few beers with my dad, caught up with a few old friends that I haven't seen in years, ran a few gravel road miles with the dogs, finished one book and read another in two days (for purely recreational enjoyment, finally - I almost forgot what that was like), and I found out that I'm a deranged movie character:

Which Random Cult Movie Character are you?

I am Alex, from "A Clockwork Orange." Real Horrorshow.
Take this quiz!

Whee! A bit of the red, red groovy for me! Oh, the book I just finished was written by one of my current professors, so it feels a bit like brown-nosing. I guess it depends on whether or not I tell him that I bought/read it.

I also bought Into The Wild less than two weeks ago and have seen it no less than four times so far. I think I might be good for a while. And yes, I actually bought it. For those that know me very well, the seemingly simple act of me traveling to a store and purchasing a movie to own holds enormous significance. It doesn't happen often.

Well, the half pot of coffee that I drank this morning is telling me that it's time to hit the bathroom and then go for my run. I was going to skip it today, but tonight I'll be having grilled steaks and other goodies (translated as booze and a few rounds of cards) with Mean Mikey Meatloaf and TR. It snowed yesterday morning and rained last night, but we must invoke Spring by firing up the grill. I take partial blame for Winter hanging on as long as it has, because I have yet to partake of animal flesh that has been prepared over an open flame this year. I know, it's a lot of responsibility to take on, but I feel shame and had to fess up. I'm a stand up kinda guy like that.

Ok, the caffeine appears to be taking over, so I'll wrap this up and go burn off some excess energy before my head asplodes.

My nipples explode with delight!

Busy, busy, busy, but happy, happy, happy. I'm walking, no floating, around in this state of bliss right now. Today marks the first time I've had a piece of fiction workshopped, and let's just say that I'm feeling like I've won English. Of course there were a few negative things (although a couple of them came from an individual that I and most of the rest of my class don't care to take seriously on anything), but for the most part it went spectacularly. I have to admit, my hands were starting to shake a bit while I sat there trying to contain myself. Yeah, it was like that.

Well, I guess that's all I have. Here's a picture of a monkey thinking.

I actually stole that picture from here.

WTF, damn Beatles already?!?

Yeah, so I log in to pop a little update on here and I see one of those friggin' Asian lady beetles resting comfortably on my keyboard. It's below freezing, why aren't they all still dead? They're one of the only things I hate about summer. Other than that, I'm nearly frothing at the mouth to unpack all my shorts, get my Birks out, and save socks for the gym. Speaking of Beatles, I just watched Across The Universe a couple weeks ago. Awesome, pure awesome. I'm not someone who's particularly into musicals, but I check one out from time to time. This was a good one, especially if you like the Beatles.

So, getting into the mood I'd originally intended when I started (damn beetle), I'm starting to get into that insanely busy mode that most people associate with grad school. I'm getting by, although it's been a while since I've worked myself into being this tired. I suppose it's not too bad though, considering I've still been having a pretty good time of it. I've also had some things going on behind the scenes that have put me in one of those good moods when you just feel like walking down the street and saying, "Well, hello there, how are you?" to everyone you meet, kinda like one of those cheesy 50s movies when guys tip their hats to strangers and smile a little too big. That sounds excessively sentimental, but I speak the truth.

I also found out that I had a piece sell at the River City Artists' Winter Art Sale. That was cool, and I was flattered to even be asked to contribute in the first place. By the way, Jeffrey, the manager and close friend of mine who organized the event, finally a has page up, and it's about time; I've been waiting to see him do this for a while. Check him out.

I suppose I should wrap this up and start thinking about heading to see another old friend of mine who'll be playing a set at Cup of Joe downtown tonight. Her name is Joan Nixt, and she's got a voice and a half. Check out her myspace page and listen for yourself. Last time I went to watch her, I got drunk; this time I'm going to get obnoxiously over-caffeinated. I think she's a bad influence on me...

Ok, that's that for this one, kids. Squash an Asian lady beetle for me, but don't do it bare-handed, they stink.

And lettuce ruled the day!

Expectations. We all have them, and people have them of us. What happens when those expectations aren't met? Usually not good things, that's what. I've noticed lately that the relationships I have, both now and in the past, that involve a high level of expectation (from either side) are the shortest lived, and the ones I have with little or no expectation are the most satisfying.

I say this because I've had a fairly surreal last few weeks, and it's giving me that feeling again like everyone around me is going totally whackbat insane. I mean apeshit woogy woogy insane, and I am the eye of the storm. Whodunit? Unrealistic expectations are the culprit for what I'm interpreting as loose grips on reality. Ironically, it's usually the people that swoon and feign some level of insanity that appear outwardly to be the most grounded, and in turn the people that I'm tending to get along with the most bestest. I think that should frighten me. If it weren't for the fact that I've learned to appreciate certain friends that much more because of this recent past, I would be scared out of my britches. Ah ha, I bet you read that quick and thought I said "bitches". Ok, so I guess I am a little crazy.

One new relationship that I have is with the band I've just been officially accepted into as lead vocalist. Because of past experiences, I had imagined that there were mountains of expectations heaped on me in the sense of performance and production. Don't get me wrong, I still think that there are, but not to the level I've been letting myself believe. These guys are content to start from scratch and reinvent themselves as we all get used to working with each other, and this new atmosphere of relief is actually making me feel that much more inspired to dig in and hit the stage as quick as we can, ready to dump my guts out and kick some ass. Oooooo, aw yeah, feel the melodrama.

I suppose the gist of what I'm feeling as I write this is that with the limited time I have at my disposal anymore, I'm getting urges to do things with my free time that feel worthwhile to me. It's amazing some of the stuff I used to do that seems so pointless now that necessity dictates I streamline. These are yet more of the signs as I go telling me that I'm where I need to be and doing what I should be doing.

All hail the sock monkey!

You know what it was? Voodoo!

I made this a while ago, and I don't really know why I'm putting it up now. I just am.

That is all, goodnight.

I'll bite you harder than Marv Albert!

It's getting to the point that I have all sorts of things going on in my head all day long, chomping at the bit to get to the end of the day and type it all feverishly down here for all to see, and then my mind draws a complete blank. I've been reading literally almost the entire day, and the process is drawn out by a few minor distractions along the way. Sure, email cries to be checked every once in a while, and I have a bit of data transfer going on right now as I reshuffle things a bit with my digital fortress. I recently bought a Western Digital 1TB external hard drive, and I don't need to tell you that it's damn sexy.

It's true, I'm a storage slut. I live for excess gigabytes, and this baby scratches my itch. The best thing about it is the ethernet hookup, so basically I have it connected to my switching router rather than directly to a computer, and that way each of them can share in the magic! What's better is that I got it at a relatively good deal, so I can fool myself into not feeling guilty about buying it.

Let's see... Oh! I almost forgot to mention that the local movie theater here is having a two night showing of Army of Darkness this weekend. I guarantee, I'm ready to kill some brains cells and then go manually turn the survivors off as I sit and watch that this weekend. I've seen it so many times, brain cells are no longer required - not that they probably were at the first viewing. My friend, Pete, is having "one of those weeks" at work, so it sounds as if he'll be tagging along. I doubt we could drag his brother there on this short notice, which is kinda sad because this used to be one of his all time favorites. Still might be, for all I know. Anyway, it's gonna be a hoot, and a much needed one at that. Hmm, maybe we should take his five year old son with us and introduce him to the legend that is Bruce Campbell.



I suppose I should've had a notion that something wasn't right this week when I looked at my weather program on my linux box. As anyone who either lives in the Midwest or watches news reports has seen, there's been a tad bit of snow coming down these past few days. As opposed to the snowfall we had a couple weeks ago, this one was accompanied by much warmer temps. I don't think it was quite as bad here as we were told to expect, but my linux box seemed to think otherwise, because this is what it had to show me. First off, it was snow on the forecast, but it was warm enough that the little rain image didn't seem that strange. I don't think I've ever seen this program show me a dark gray cloud like this one though. Ominous, isn't it? Well, I've made it over the halfway point this week; just a few more days and I should be free of its shadow. Ah, I get it, it's in homage to Army of Darkness this weekend.

"Okay. The words. Say the words.
KLATOO!... VERATA... uh... Uh...
Necta... uh... Nectar...
Necktie... uh...

KLATOO... VERATA...
NECTtphhhhhhhhhh...

Okay then."

This brand of pain tastes so sweet to me.

Well, it's looking like I got too busy and won't be able to hit the goal I'd set for myself; to match my posts for 2007 by the end of January. I made a decent show of it though, considering I've made over half. The past two nights had all the intention of writing something, even had a mental outline of some things I wanted to talk about. This was all after doing my reading for the day, so really what happened was me catching up on emails and then spacing out pretty hardcore for the following hour or so.

I was sort of hoping that tonight would find me enjoying a couple martinis, but I procrastinated too long on things I had to do today. That, and my martini buddy, I assume, was understandably hesitant to go out in the subzero temps (made even more butt cold by the 25-30 mile per hour sustained winds) even for one of my tasty homemade drinky treats.

There's something I've noticed about reading all the short fiction I've been blazing through lately; since the days are spent in roughly the same manner, it feels like the semester just started yesterday. I mean, there hasn't been really very many significant events that have made marking time easy for me. However, the head full of stories gives me this ghost impression like I've watched tons of movies and television, or that I've had the sudden resurgence of memory from past lives that belie more activity than has actually taken place. I can't help but wonder if my two years of grad school will all be like this, and then I'll just wake up one day and realize that I have to make a choice between the next step up with a doctorate, or scrounging for a job. On the other hand, I'm starting to suspect that my timing couldn't be better, considering I'll have only one full school year in this Master's program sandwiched between a semester and a summer. That should give me a bit of time in there to stretch my rubber brain. Maybe even get some traveling in. I have been a bit obsessed lately with the idea of a motorcycle; I could see a nice summer road trip on two wheels with a tent and sleeping bag strapped to the back as I disappear until I feel like being found again.

I think maybe I'm just tired and I'm rambling on my keyboard in lieu of someone here in the flesh to puke out my stream of consciousness to.

Poor, poor keyboard.

Holy buttcakes!

Ah, a three day weekend is drawing to a close, and I'm sighing the sigh that only comes after a good constructive day. I read probably a little over half of what I've been assigned for this next week, and I even had a chance to mess with my linux machine and make some customizations. Sure, sure, super linux geeks would laugh at the fact that I'm giddy over setting up a Samba printer share, but I'm a big fan of small victories.

I now have this strange urge to sign off and keep reading, but at this point, I think everything I read would just end up leaking out my ear. I think I should treat myself to a bloody mary and a movie, then pass the hell out. Yeah...

Death Valley Ballerina

Ok, my brain is officially 'sploding after this first week of classes. It's okay though, I'll get used to it. I've actually enjoyed all the reading that I'm getting to do now; for once the bulk of my reading is fiction rather than tons and tons of textbook chapters. I can't complain, but I guess I sometimes do anyway.

Speaking of reading, I just came across a book that I haven't read for years, The Alchemist. As with many books I've lost over the years, I loaned it to someone and never got it back. I actually remember who it was in this case, but we lost touch and by the time I remembered it was too late. In this case, the circumstances were also unique in that the book wasn't actually owned by me. I borrowed it from my friend Jo, and luckily she just never asked for it to be returned. Well, I guess if you ever read this Jo, I'm busted and you have dibs on this copy.

Yesterday I was catching up on tons of old email and finally watched a YouTube video that a friend sent to me. I'm a huge Tool fan, and am quite proud of the fact that I've turned him into one as well - all it took was dragging him to a concert. Anyway, he sent this link about how someone took one of their songs and deduced a Fibonacci sequence from it. Eh, maybe so, but it's worth it at least for the song itself and the Hubble images used.



After watching that, I had to follow a related link that highlighted some of Maynard James Keenan's (vocalist for Tool) witticisms. If you're not familiar with his brand of humor, I'm sure this will fall short on you. Watch it if you want, or don't.



Now I'm off to do more of my reading for class, then I've made plans to watch Paris, je t'aime with a friend. I can hardly wait. Now go, find something to do. Unless it's you planning on taking my new book from me, Jo. In that case, you go do something else.

Wrooooong! Do it again!

A friend of mine sent a shorter version of this out to our email list today, and I nearly shat myself in fear. I think it was a mixture of the message itself and the fact that people actually cheered for it.



No no no no no no no, wrong! Bad Republican! As mentioned later in the video, this is definitely a violation of the separation of church and state. I was raised and have friends that still are Christian, but I'm sorry, in no way should the law of the land be modified in any way shape or form to be representative of some imaginary invisible person's whims, no matter how strongly you believe in him/her. No way. I don't care what religion it is, it's wrong. I mean, my imaginary friend wants me and everyone else to wear mismatching socks, drink tuna fish and pomegranate smoothies, and listen to The Aquabats every day, but I assume that this would go over poorly with the general populace.

You see, I'm doing this thing now where I'm trying fairly hard lately to let people be the way they want to be without having to suffer my unsolicited commentaries - and that goes especially double when it comes to religion. I even had a friend tell me that she considered me an evangelical Atheist*. That wasn't what inspired me to turn this new leaf, but I have a decent memory and that has stuck with me. The way I try to see most things anymore is that you can believe and do whatever you want as long as it doesn't affect me. Changing the Constitution definitely does that. Please oh please oh please don't let people be naive enough to allow something like this to happen, because I think the result will be very, very ugly. And yes, I do realize that before I posted this Romney already won Michigan, where this occurred. As they say, it's not over until the fat lady sings, or Huckabee drops from the race. And no, I don't endorse Romney either.

*I found it interesting that the built in spell-checker gives me a big red underline when I don't capitalize Christian, yet atheist is fine. I realize that the root of the word is Christ, which is a proper noun. In the spirit of equality, I capitalized both anyway.

The storm is brewing.

To take advantage of this first paragraph, I regret to inform that there are absolutely no pictures of the party I mentioned in my last post. That's ok though, because all they would've shown is drunk people talking and playing Apples to Apples. In fact, we played that game all night. It seemed like we played a round until someone got six cards, dispersed for conversation and to refill drinks, and then came back to play yet another round. By the time we quit, we suspected that we had used all the adjective cards. Of course, we realized this after berating random individuals for not putting the old cards back on the bottom of the stack. I'm sure the alcohol was responsible for our sluggish epiphany - and there was plenty of that to be had. There were gin and tonics, a bottle of rum, bloody marys, Dewars on the rocks, a bottle of some sort of Phillipino rum that smelled like Saki and received reactions varying from passive to outright disgust, and plenty of beer. It was fairly low key and no, there was no need for pictures.

Now back to the present; this is day two of my tour as a grad student, and I'm already starting to feel as if I've infiltrated the ranks of some secret club. It wouldn't be so bad if I actually had earned an undergrad degree in English, or even taken an English class for that matter. No, I had to start in computer science (which doesn't mean computer geeks don't read, it just means that they're not stereotypically a crowd that gets into literary discussions) and then end up in German. Thankfully, the beginning of the semester so far is going to be chock full of reading reading reading. I can handle that. In fact, no offense against any of my German classes or teachers, but it looks like even though I'm going to be busy all the time, this is going to be worlds easier than translating nearly everything I read or write. It's going to be the last half of the semester that's going to get a little hairy, I think, because that's when most of the writing is going to be done. I also learned that us grad students from one of my classes are going to be making a wikipedia literature review. I'll be sure to link that when it comes to fruition.

And speaking of translation, I did actually sign up to audit the translation course that I took as independent study last semester. I was invited to take it if I had time to see how it is in an actual classroom setting. It will be good to keep the German somewhat fresh in my head, considering I still have some books in German that I haven't read yet and would like to be able to tackle them without feeling like I need to relearn the language. Auditing will be nice, because I'm already suspecting that I won't be able to make one of the two weekly times, so I can still get the refresher without stressing about making up work that I miss.

As a closer, the reason I might be missing my class is because of my GA responsibilities. I have a meeting later this week to get more details and iron out a schedule, but the links my professor gave me reveal that I'll be assisting with the Final Thursday Press and Final Thursday Reading Series. I have to say, I am pretty psyched to be a part of this, because I've always meant to attend and never did. Now I have reason, and who knows, maybe I'll even take the opportunity to get in front of the mic and convince some friends of mine that should to do the same.

I need to stop typing now, because things keep coming to my mind, but time is working against me and I have places to be. Time is something I'm finding that is going to be a rare commodity very soon. I need to fully enjoy this week while I can.

Notify next of kin.

I'm a few minutes away from being picked up to head to a remote acreage a couple hours south of here. It belongs to a couple friends of ours, and it's about to house a postponed New Years/solstice party comprised of a handful of some of my oldest friends. Considering it's an acreage, we will be sufficiently far enough away from civilization, which means that this could end up being a weekend from which legendary tales spring. I understand that there will also be some excellent scenery shots on the way, so I decided to bring my camera. I wasn't going to at first, mainly because it seems that everyone gets rather annoyed when they get their pictures taken in full party mode. I can't say that I blame them. So that said, I doubt I'll have any pictures to document the occasion, but you never know.

I also had to pass this oddity along. I have quite a bit of music and an iPod, so obviously iTunes seems to be the appropriate application to use. Well, I got a sexy new computer a few weeks ago with some funds that had originally been budgeted for other priorities that never came about, so I used them to treat myself. Oh man, it's got an AMD dual core 64 bit processor, a 400GB hard drive, and 3GB of RAM. It's unbelievable how fast this thing is, and believe me, I've been pushing it trying to test its limits. I haven't found them yet.

Oh, sorry, back to what I was saying. So I took the 120GB SATA drive with all my music on it out of my old desktop and dropped it into the new hotness, then changed my iTunes settings accordingly to import all the music into its library. Because of this new level of performance available to me, I've started using the visual setting that scrolls and displays the album covers along with your song listings. As I listen, I'll import an album cover here and there, finding that sometimes iTunes isn't all that accurate. I happened to try to retrieve the album cover for Megadeth's Hidden Treasures, and I got this.



I did a search on this album, and all I found was what appears to be Heavy Eric's website, which I've honestly been a bit too afraid to really dive into. This is just the latest in a long string of borderline surreal things that have popped up these past couple weeks.

I kinda hope it keeps up, because I think I'd be really bored otherwise.

One big holiday.

I'm one of those people that hates to see Xmas crap get rolled out onto the shelves right after Thanksgiving. It's not that I go looking for it, but over the years it basically jumps out at you whether you're prepared or not. To me, it feels as if we can barely get one holiday out of the way before the marketing strategies shift and we're getting ads for the next holiday's hot items. But now I see that some genius has decided to push the Easter holiday a bit further ahead in the year, and I have to say that I'm just as concerned, but for an entirely different reason. It's not even mid-January yet and I see that the Cadbury Creme Egg is already on the shelves.

Now when it comes to little candy eggs as opposed to lights and carols, I can say without a doubt that the eggs are something I'd much rather endure. In fact, I'm helplessly drawn to them whenever I see them. I'm going to have to muster a superhuman level of control these next couple months, or I could just throw my hands up and just start making the giant, homemade version.

I wish I could find the YouTube video of the old commercial with the two kids at the end; one of them is a chicken and yells, "Thank you, Easter Bunny. BAWK BAWK!" Uh, yeah...

*sniff sniff*

I just saw this movie, I think it was almost three weeks ago now, and although the movie itself was great, the soundtrack has just been haunting me. I like a lot of music, and if given the choice, I'll usually pop in some metal. My collection has plenty of classical in it, which I enjoy thoroughly, but this one has just taken me into its jaws since I bought it and is shaking me around like a favorite dog toy.


The movie is Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, and I can't get it out of my head. My favorite song by far is track #9, Meeting Laura. It's just haunting, as is the scene in the movie where it appears. I found a relatively lengthy trailer for it on YouTube, and was surprised to see that it was directed by Tom Tykwer, the same guy who did Lola rennt.



Go rent it, see it. Then find the soundtrack. Trust me.

Cultural difference?

I was sitting with some of my friends earlier tonight and we decided that there was no other alternative than chinese delivery. A few short minutes later, we were chowing on spicy broccoli, egg rolls, and crab rangoons. A couple hours later we remembered that the fortune cookies still lay on the kitchen table, unmolested. Well, after molesting them, we read our fortunes out loud. My fortune was disturbing, as I don't think it really counts as a fortune, but rather as a testament to chauvinism - or at the very least an invitation to getting punched in the eye. Please, gaze on my fortune and then try to convince me that anyone who would call a wife a 'possesion' isn't a raging redneck.



Classy. At least I now know how to say 'student' in Chinese. And I have lucky numbers for the next lottery ticket I buy. Oh, I get it; when you win the lotto, then you'll have enough money to own a wife. Well now it all makes sense...

Sleep, please release me.

Gonna sign off on the partying to post this video I just rediscovered. I like it anyway.



Oh yeah, happy new year.