Wednesday, December 21, 2005


About twelve hours ago was winter solstice, or the moment of the year when the northern hemisphere is at its maximum tilt away from the sun. This means the days will get longer and longer from now until the summer solstice (at 5:26 am on June 21). A poem:


I am hibernating.
I am so cold that I can't run, not even to a warm place. So cold I can't get out of bed to get another blanket. I can't remove my shirt to put on a warmer one. I can't leave the house to go to a house with a fireplace. I can't stand under the cold water and wait for it to turn hot. My roommate is a cheapskate and keeps turning the thermostat down to 60.

Ha! You thought it would be about the timelessness of space and rotation of planets or about the changing seasons and fleeting nature of existence itself. But it was just about being cold.

If the days are getting longer now, why doesn't it start getting warmer until after February? I have thought about this. Perhaps a little demonstration.

So you are sitting in a bathtub full of tepid water and I walk right in without knocking. To keep things simple, let's just assume you are fully clothed, for whatever reason. Hey, if you want to bathe in your clothes that's your own business. I don't want to know anything about it.

So you and I begin a conversation that you would deem rather ordinary except for the fact that I am dropping an ice cube into your tub every ten seconds. We continue discussing the weather, movies, school, and work (but not politics, religion, or art of course) until your teeth are chattering. I notice and say: "Oh, I'm sorry. Is this making you cold? I am out of ice anyway." Then I turn around and walk out leaving you alone in a pool of ice water. It will take you quite a while to warm up again, don't you think?

Monday, December 19, 2005

The Epic Saga of the Unjust Ticket (Chapter Five and Conclusion) or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Courts

It has been two and a half months since a near-sighted cop made a (bad) snap decision to pull over a red subaru on a rural Lindon road. And for two and a half months its driver has sought justice. Today his struggle ended. There is no more to be done. The courts have made their decision and it must stand regardless of the opinions of the Lindon City Police, the defendant (that's me), or anyone else. Has Justice been served? Each person reading must decide for him or herself.

How did it end? Gather round and I shall tell you.

Lindon Justice Court was in session at 9:00 am. I was early, the first one in the courtroom. As the proceedings began I noticedthe prosecutor coming in and out of the courtroom escorting people out one at a time. These were people meeting for their pretrial, like me. My turn came. I remembered back to practicing my meltdown stare in the mirror this morning. I was going for a "Shane" type of persona. You know, honest, self-assured, fearless. Rather than sitting down in any sort of office as I expected, we stood in the hallway and he explained that the officer had not answered any of his calls or emails. "Let's hear your side of things." Ok. I explain to him essentially what I told you in earlier posts, except with much more professional language. I casually (but intentionally) mentioned that I had taken photos of the street.

He asked to see them. Crap! What do I do? Do I show him my evidence so he can prepare to shoot it down in a trial? I take a chance. "They're in my car. I'll be right back." Crap, is this a good idea? I bring them in. While he looks at them, I mention that this is a 5 megapixel camera, and these shots can be made into the size of a cereal box before they become pixelated.

His response was surprising. "I'll tell you what. I'll drive out to the address on the ticket. If the line is dotted, I'll ask the court to dismiss the case. If its not, I'll schedule a trial" Wow. Cool. He's calling my bluff, except I am not bluffing! I mean, woohoo! We go in and he tells the judge. I leave.

Did that just happen? I hoped he didn't go to the wrong address or look at the wrong part of the road or anything. Well that was last Monday. Today in the mail I got a document which said my case had been dismissed.

HOORAY! I WIN! As my friend John Christensen would say, "You gotta have faith in the system."

It has been a long journey my friends. I would like dedicate my victory to my brother English, who suggested I fight this ticket, my home teacher, who gave me some tips for trials, my uncle Cy, a state prosecutor, for arming with knowledge and bureaucratic paperwork that I would have used had this thing gone to trial, and finally, to the prosecutor, who was after the truth and not a broke college student's textbook money.

And thank you, loyal reader, for joining me on my quest. We laughed together. We cried together. Together we wondered why Lindon Justice Court has a hitching post for horses. And in the end, we were victorious. We came, we saw, we didn't pay. Then we stopped at DI afterwards to celebrate. Thank you. Amen.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005


Why I am writing a blog entry when this take home final is due so soon?

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Elixir of Life

After class yesterday I stopped in at the computer lab to do a few uninteresting things. I stayed for about thirty minutes hoping the mucous-hardening wind and stinging driven snow would calm slightly and give us all a fighting chance.

Hold that image of the weather in your mind for a minute. Romantic isn't it? Now add a lone figure with squinted eyes and huddled shoulders clasping his lapels and flipped collar to his throat as though for survival. The sun is blocked by cloud cover, but its that part of the day where Apollo, probably distracted by a vibrating cell phone, has been shoved off balance by envious Nyx, and is in that frantic but strangely elegant act of teetering. The moment seems eternal, but in fact it is ending so gradually that nobody notices until Apollo tumbles gracelessly over the Oquirrh mountains and we all have to switch on our headlights.

Well the romance vanishes immediatly once your face and hands are greeted with an unexpected shock of pain rather than cold. Yesterday in my Sensation and Perception class we had talked about why extreme cold feels like pain, but this information does nothing to alleviate it. And while one might reasonably assume that some sturdy canvas pants will block the wind and least soften the biting cold, one would be wrong.

Wait a sec, I am forgetting something. Before I step out the door a small reminder bell is ringing in my head. There is some sort of secret weapon...what was it? Instinctivley I swing my backpack across one shoulder and unzip the middle pouch. Of course! The Union Building had given me my annual made-in-china christmas gift, and this year it was something worthwhile. Sleek, polished, confidently nestled in my bag was my new insulated steel thermos. And even better, I had had the forsight to fill it with hot water and a teabag before leaving the Christmas party. It didn't matter that I had used Orange Ginger Mint, a flavor blend with one too many, or that it had this ugly Union Building logo on the side.

I sipped and pushed the door open, beginning the journey across campus back to my car. The wind still bit deeper than an ill-mannered three year old. The snowflakes still pelted my numb face, but liquid heat was flowing into my body faster than the weather could steal it. Yes! Up the to the business building.....I am halfway there! Crosswalk.....toward the intersection.....Oh no, I am going to miss the little white stick man! The orange hand won't even be blinking by the time I get there! I'll have to wait in pensive agony until Stick Man returns.

The pause in stepping allows me to drink more deeply than before. YES! One passionate gulp, then another, and then the cautious exhale with closed eyes.....and more, MORE! My frenzy is interrupted by Stick Man, who gives permission to resume walking. Soon I am at my car, then driving home.

The more you think about what you have read, the more you will realize this is an advertisement for insulated thermoses. But it was intended to promote herbal tea, because really it was the tea that was that saved my life, not the thermos. Yes, I know. You've tried herbal tea before and were none too impressed. Fine, I can accpet that. But realize that you have matured since then, and so have your tastes. You are older and wiser, and the long awaited time has arrived wherein you will, from now on, enjoy herbal tea. It is here to stay.

Don't fight it.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Target smell was "day old egg nog pancakes"

One of my professors today said that it is impossible to imagine a smell (Slide #9). I wanted to ask her how anyone could ever know that, but she advanced her powerpoint presentation to the next slide, and the moment was lost forever into the impenetrable dark void of the past. It may as well have been six million years ago, when aliens ruled the earth. I couldn't ask the question now.
But still, I think I can imagine a smell. It might be more difficult to imagine a smell that a sound or a sight but I think I can do it. Let's try.


Crap, I almost had it that time. Obviously this is possible. I almost did it on my second try.

And according to this diagram, not only can you imagine smells, you can dream about them and then save them in jars for six to eight weeks as long as you do it in that order.

Sunday, November 27, 2005


I found my wallet in a pair of pants that I never wear. Looks I'll be keeping the donkey (and oil).

Thursday, November 17, 2005


Seriuosly though. I need that wallet.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

The Epic Saga of the Unjust Ticket (Chapter Four)

So I just got back from the Lindon City Court. First they had a hearing for a DUI guy who had his charge reduced to "driving while under the influence of metabolife". Hmm. Then were a couple of probation violators. They were cuffed. Then a disorderly conduct guy. Then me.

I felt silly standing up, and sillier still when the judge said "It is alleged that on the seventh of november you did a..." (judge looks down at his paper) "unsafe lane travel". I plead not guilty, and he gave the option of scheduling a trial or a pretrial deal. At my request he explained that the pretrial thing was basically a meeting with the prosecutor in which we try and hammer out some sorta deal without going to trial. I opted for that one, figuring that it was the less risky choice. It is scheduled for the 7th of December, fully two months after my ticket.

In talking with people who have contested traffic tickets, it seems like at the very least the prosecutor will offer for me to pay the fine without it going on my record. That would be nice. But I want more, dangit. Is the cop really going to show up after to testify after two months as though he really remembers this ticket out of the brazilian others he has written since then? I'll mention this to the prosecutor and show him my evidence. If he will reduce the fine signifcantly (I'm talkin half) then I think I'll take it. If he wants the full price then I will probably act like I am going to take it to trial to see if he's serious, and if he is, I will probably back down. 80 bucks though, come on.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

A Shiny New Donkey

to whoever finds my wallet for me.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Now we're juicy!

Now, in addition to this site's recently discovered Moxie, we have Google Juice!

This is a proud day in the history of the blog you are reading. This site is now Google's first hit for the words Swirly Patterns.

Try it.

(And, if you do a google image search, the picture of the back of my head is hit #41, with Rocky Anderson at #38)

Google's technology is such that the more times a phrase is linked to a certain site from other sites, or the more times a link is visited from a particular search result, the higher it will be rated in relevancy to that search topic. In other words, if lots of people do a search for a certain word or phrase, then click on a certain link, google moves it up higher in the search results. There can be hilarious consequences to this, as you can imagine.

So thank you linkers, dilligent searchers, and google bombers. I'm going home to have a nice tall glass of Google Juice.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005


Bah, that last entry is so boring. I hate having it be on top.

Monday, October 31, 2005

The Epic Saga of the Unjust Ticket (Chapter 3)

So today I pushed my court date from this Wednesday to November 16. The end (for now).

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Indian Fall

This post was suggested by jackie smaz, but I had already decided to do it before that.

Some of you may have noticed my fanatical insistence that we undertake a raod trip to various exotic locales, including Vernal, Zion's and central Utah. Some of you were busy. Some I didn't have a chance to talk to. Others of you gave me the shaft. Still others I didn't invite because I don't like you. Whatever the reason, my dreams were shattered one weekend at a time, until there was no hope left. Until...

Waylon, one of my roommates, to the rescue. We went to Escalante for some hiking. Of course there were drawbacks. I'm all for eating a couple slices of bread and heading out, but one of the participants wanted to cook breakfast. On a slow, propane grill. That wasn't assembled. After he got up at 10:30.

So about 1:00 pm we start our hike. 3 Slot canyons! You know how I feel about slot canyons. These were particularly awesome because they were the type that touches your belly on one side and your backbone on the other as you slither along its deep floor.

Waylon tells me that Indians from some tribes would come down into these slot canyons to commune with the Great Spirit. I could see why. You feel like you are crawling through Earth's arteries. And the metaphor of going into a dark valley, deeper and deeper, until you emerge into the sun whose brilliance you almost forgot while you were away, is one of death and rebirth that is too perfect to ignore.

So while I love when the seasons change, I have enjoyed our indian summer that has lasted well into fall. It rained tonight and is kinda cold, so its probably just ending at last. But I was glad to give it a proper farewell rather than watching it fade away from behind a desk.

Thursday, October 20, 2005


It has come to my attention that I have run out of things to write about. I have been at work for six hours and cannot think of a blog entry. Goodnight.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

The Epic Saga of the Unjust Ticket (Chapter Two)

Alright. Yesterday I called the traffic court. No answer, except for a recording promising to call me back as soon as a line opened up if I left a message. I did, they didn't. So I called again after about an hour and set a date for a hearing: November 2nd at 5:30. She said I could call back anytime up until about October 31 if I need to change it.

I will.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

The Epic Saga of the Unjust Ticket (Chapter One)

Crap, crap, crap, I say! Crap. Crap. I got a ticket while on my way to Urinetown (a.k.a. Provo) today. Crap. The freeway traffic was moving slower than a drunken snail riding backwards on a turtle riding on a two-toed sloth crawling the wrong direction on a moving sidewalk made of frozen molasses. So I exited and was making some reasonable progress on some rural frontage-type roads. When I got stuck behind someone slow, I would pass them. There was always plenty of space and I always had a single dotted yellow line. No problem, eh? Until I passed a blue pickup. My spirits and jaw dropped in perfect unison as the familiar nausea-inducing whirl of cop lights turned on behind me. Crap.
Crap! He walks up to my window. Now you will recall that I am in a hurry. Wait, I haven't mentioned that yet. Yes well I was in a hurry to meet my sister in Provo to watch a silent movie with a live organ player. It was very cool. Man, that guy (Buster Keaton?) sure can climb building. The best part was when was fencing with that lady who had the umbrella. Hilarious.
Where was I? Oh that's right, getting a ticket. Crap. So he says the usual sickeningly casual things that traffic cops say. "Y'in a hurry?" "Y'know why I pulled y'over today?" "Y'know that I'm a buttface"? Ok, I've never heard that last one said before, but you you get the idea. So I don't remember precisely what his (stupid) reason was for stopping me because I was too busy agreeing with him so that he would just SHUT UP for heaven's sake and let me get on my way. I was sure I would get a stern talking to and nothing more, but instead he acts all friendly and then writes me a ticket. Crap. He doesn't even know how much it will cost.
He drove off and I gathered my dignified composure and I......did.....something.


I cried, alright? Are you happy? I told you. Yeah, so I'm a pansy, so what? Big deal. Like you are real tough. It was a crappy thing that happened at the end of a worse day at the end of an even worse week, all during some of the hardest months of my life. So there.

ANYWAY, moving on and completely forgetting that thing that I just told you about that we shall never mention everevereverever again, the silent movie was awesome and Cate and I met up with my brother and his wife. My brother English had some most encouraging advice. He said that if I
(a)call the phone number on the ticket and set up a court date to appeal, then
(b)wait until the last possible day that I can change the court date, then
(c)change it, so that by the time it arrives it has been like a month and a half, then
(d)show up for my hearing,
the the cop will probably not even care about it and not show up, in which case I get off without having to pay
the cop shows up and can barely remember what happened, and my case is ambiguous enough that I can be found innocent.

And so, the saga begins...

Monday, September 26, 2005

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Them wristbands

This post was suggested by _First Floor Mondays.

Ok. Good point. The wristbands are outta control. Even those Lance ones were never my favorite. Yes, it was for a good cause and all, but they were ugly. And they were Lancevertisements, which is one thing this country does not need right now.
Alright, I will admit right now that I have owned two so far, a blue and a red. Blue represented some spare change I dropped into a tsunami relief bucket at the U, and Red represented an extra pint of blood that I had lying around and wasn't using, so I gave it to ARUP. I tried wearing them to broadcast my selflessness to friends and strangers alike, but they pulled my arm hairs and got caught on things. Plus they would always wind up on the floor of my room by the time I woke up in the morning, evidence that they had been utterly rejected by my subconscious nocturnal self.

Its not all bad, though. Next time you are offered one and are too polite to decline, take it and use it as an ordinary rubber band. I have a travel soapdish whose period of usefulness was extended just by putting the ARUP one around it.

Compare the wrists. Is it any wonder Matheson lost the election?

"The Lists" entry for wristbands.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005


Yesterday my brother and I were stuck up Big Cottonwood Canyon with frame packs and no ride, so we traveled by thumb. It only took about ten minutes before a little two-door Nissan pulled over and we squeezed in between three Mexicans. At the bottom of the canyon they let us off and we stuck out the thumbs again. As we walked up the hill, we noted how it always seems to be people with small old cars that are already full of people who pick up hitchhikers, and how this has been the case whenever either of us had done it. This of course conjured up reflections on possessions, humility, compassion, etc. I'm sure we both had some great insights.

Which we abandoned several minutes later when a man pulled over in his brand new four door pickup to let us in as he drove home to his estate behind La Caille.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Cereal Ccandal!

A new study by an esteemed cereal researcher, me, indicates that Marshmallow Mateys are actually better than Lucky Charms, due to the former's higher marshmallow content.

As you are no doubt aware, the implications are staggering.

Monday, July 18, 2005


No, not that dumb movie with dumb Goldie Haun. I am house sitting this week for my boss and her husband.

Deena has two cats. One is named Alex and probably made two appearances
the whole time I was there. The other was Frank.

Frank is obese and diabetic, but what a friendly guy. He follows
you around and wants you to pet him all the time, sort of like a dog.

Frank needs two insulin shots per day. I have to sneak up on him while he eats,
then lift a fat roll off of his back and stick him! Sometimes he meows
in annoyance, other times he just takes it like a man.
Deena told me to make myself at home, and I took this admonition to heart.
I helped myself to all kinds of food and snacks, including the fanciest
glass of chocolate milk ever.

I watched as many movies as possible, and some Quantum Leap reruns, with
a little help from my new friends, Comcast and TiVo.

But man, what a mess I made. I spent the whole morning cleaning up my dishes, the coffee table,
my many Vanilla Coke cans, etc. Oh, and the litter box I had to clean out everyday. That is pretty
gross. How could two little cats produce so much in just one day? Incredible.
What a deal though. A free mini-vacation from human contact. I just basically read and watched movies all day. And ate. And got $50! Plus Deena left me two movie passes for Larryland. I definitely got the better end of this deal. Does anyone need a housesitter?

Uncivil Servants

Seriuosly, this is out of control. It was last Thursday, right after The Child Who Was A Keyhole had played a show at Sugarbeats. We were heading to my car to go buy Frosties from Dave Thomas. As we approached we noticed several (three, in fact) officers of the law interrogating a disheveled looking man who had propped himself up against the west wall of Barnes and Noble as he sat on the sidewalk drinking an amber colored, probably alcoholic beverage. Actually, one was interogating the man, while the other two seemed to be discussing with each other something entirely unrelated. Also we noticed several (three again, oddly enough) police cars double parked, blocking a couple of cars into their spaces. One of the cars was mine. As we passed by these civil servants, I politely (I think) asked one of the officers who was not talking to the drunk guy if I would be able to get out. Barely glancing at me, and in a very irritated tone, he answered "In a minute you will". He just.......If was....AAHHH! What a buttface, seriously. These guys get paid to act like this!
But you can bet we thought of some great comebacks once we were driving away.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Wait, don't go!

Okay, it is very important that you not stop checking for updates. I have not stopped blogging. Far from it. In case I didn't email you or you were too lazy to follow the link, I have blogged my entire European Adventure. There is a link on the right if you want to read about our foreign exploits. Also I have been working on my site more, and it is getting cooler by the day. Also linked on the right.
But since I don't want this entire blog entry to be about blog entries, I went on a hike the other day up Mule Hollow. Here's JC hikin' it maximum old school. Whatever that means.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

More Disobedience

What have local politicians got against me? First Rocky swerves in front of me like Evel Kinevel playing quidditch (see 7 April's entry, and notice how the story is already getting more exaggerated), now this. Cate had taken the car that she and I share over to her friend's house. Then the Mayor of Cottonwood Heights backed out of his driveway and ran into our Subaru (which I have named Tijuana). Poor Tijuana.

I mean seriously.
When will the persecution end?

Actually he was really cool about it, and it's all fixed now. You should all vote for him based on his honesty and incredibly precise haircut.

Saturday, April 23, 2005


I took an amazing class this semester which I would recommend to anyone. It was called Mind and Nature. If you are not a student at the U and/or you don't want to pay extortionary rates to take classes here, you can get the gist of the course by reading the Curtain of Dawn essays.

Anyway we had our last day of class on Thursday. Our professor, who was one of the best I have ever had, read a poem at the end of class and by the time he finished he was near tears. He folded up his paper, looked up, and said thank you. Before he was finished people had already begun standing up and filing out of the room.

I felt a little unsatisfied with us as a class giving that sort of response and felt like something was missing. It wasn't until later in the day that I realized what it was. We should have applauded. Should students applaud for their teachers if they liked the course?

Monday, April 18, 2005


So I have a paper due tomorrow that is worth 25% of my grade in that class. Which means that its importance rivals (but does not supersede) this blog post.

Let me help you get a feeling for my situation. This paper is actually a rewrite. The original grade was a 'C' which, when you consider grade inflation, is quite a crappy grade. So of course the main question on my mind is "what can I do to improve it?" The obvious solution is to read the teacher's comments throughout the paper and follow them. Just one slight hang-up with that though. At the end of my paper, he writes, "Everything you said in this paper argues against seem to have your whole argument backwards."

Wait, this might be really simple. Maybe I forgot to put the word "not" somewhere in my first paragraph. Let me check...Damn! No such luck. That means there is only one other explanation. My brain must be wired incorrectly, such that my whole process of logical thinking is the opposite of what it should be (or least the opposite of the professor's).

A quick fix: change my thesis to the opposite position. So I asked my professor if I could "alter my thesis slighty". His answer, "if it is only slightly, yes, but I want you to really try and stick to your original thesis."


Thursday, April 07, 2005

Civil [Servant] Disobedience

Don't you just love stories about famous people doing bad things? I have one for you.

Okay, he's not famous, and this isn't really bad, but yesterday as I was walking past the UMFA, I saw Mayor Rocky turn into the parking lot WITHOUT USING HIS TURN SIGNAL!

Before you think to yourself that I only thought it was Rocky, I watched him then pull into a parking space labeled "RESERVED FOR MAYOR ANDERSON".

And yes, not using your turn signal is a minor thing, but this is funny just because it was Rocky.

Thursday, March 10, 2005

Wow, I am famous.

Sort of. When I say "I am famous", what I mean is that there was a blurb about my website in the Daily Herald. And of course the URL of my website includes my full name. So yes, famous. And you can say that you know me.

So what does this mean? Well, the most imprtant thing here is that if you put my full name as one long word into google, there is a result now! YES! FAMOUS!

Friday, March 04, 2005

I suck at raising invertebrates.


Tito died this week. Tito is my pet scorpion. Was my pet scorpion. According to people who don't suck at raising invertebrates, they are supposed to live 5 to 8 years. I only took one year to kill mine off. The really sad thing is that I still don't know how it died. I have several theories though:

~Didn't feed him enough.

~Fed him too much.

~Kept terrarium too humid.

~Kept terrarium too arid.

~Gave him tap water in his dish instead of distilled water.

~Didn't sing to him often enough.

~Used fungicide in to clean out shower which made the air in the bathroom (where Tito lived) toxic.

~Basement is too cold to support African arthropods. And subarbanite humans, for that matter.

So its on to a new hobby, one which will not cause arachnids (or anything else) to suffer if I am not good at it.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005


that's all.

Friday, February 18, 2005

The Indecision of Vomitting

For the last fourteen years, I have been The Man With The Iron Stomach. Despite eating lots of things that have made guts churn, I haven't thrown up since 1991. Cool, eh? But my streak ended last night. And I mean ended. It began with a trip to Chili's. That name still tastes like stomach acid as I say it. The chicken tacos seemed fine going down, and I went to practice with The Child Who Was A Keyhole with no trouble right afterwards. Then I got up and went to the bathroom, and after several semi-dry heaves felt much better. There, I thought. No vomit. I am still the King Of Not Vomitting. But the relief lasted only one hour. I ran back in and my insides squirted into the sink over and over. This second episode repeated itself six more times in between 1:00 am and 6:00 am. Where does it all come from? How could there still be more? Are you kidding? There's no way my stomach holds that much!
And now I have decided the two worst things about vomitting.

(1) The indecision that precedes it, during which you wonder: Is it coming? Should I try and fight it? Then, before each heave you must repeat the feeling, wondering if you've finished your heaves for that session or only scratched the surface.

(2) How strikingly similar are the tates of vomit and cheap spaghetti sauce. C'mon people, to take the edge off the acid in spaghetti sauce all you need to do is add a little sugar.

I think its over now. It has been about six hous since my last episode. Which is good, because this was the violent kind of vomit wherein my sinuses were filled with the stuff. Sorry, I'll stop now.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

second post

In Scotland sometimes mail would come twice a day. We called it "second post". The entire nation quit doing second post about 1/3 of the way through my stay there. Very sad. Anyway I am experienceing early burnout this semester. It just might kill me. Otherwise it will make me stronger, according to this guy.
This, I guess is what they call sandpile theory. So this semester could totally tear me down and make me into a vague semblance of the man I once was. But if people really are like piles of sand (if you add to many grains, the pile falls down and is shorter than before. But the base is now bigger, and will tolerate more grains than ever before, allowing to reach new heights) then I might be in good shape.
Alas, here I am, almost totally exhausted, at 11:00 pm, still with two papers due tomorrow which I haven't written. And I choose instead to write a second post on the blog. Tsk, my friends.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005


okay so I am transferring my blog to blogspot for one reason: so people can comment on it. so you guys better comment on it.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

making it up

Did it surprise also surprise you, as you "grew up" (whatever that means to you), to learn that as adults we would be improvising at least as much of our lives as we did as young children?
Sorry that I allowed all of the blog-related opportunities presented by Groundhog Day to pass by unused. Next year, maybe.

Saturday, January 29, 2005

dreams and dropouts

So its been like a month. And uh.....I still have nothing cool to write. Let's see.....I guess I have discovered the most annoying thing in the entire world. And that thing is....are you ready? Not knowing what you want. And by you I mean me. Not knowing what I want. When we are little kids all the adults tell us that we can accomplish whatever we want to, if we want it bad enough and work hard enough. And one of the most amazing things that I've discovered in 22 and 1/2 years in this place (Earth) is that what those adults told us is totally true. Without wanting to sound too trite, I really think that is true. But what if you don't know what you want?
Let me back up for just a minute....when I was in high school, I was, on some level at least, miserable for a good portion of the time. Just for spite, I became one of those people who thought he wasn't conforming (when actually I was conforming to everyone else who thought they also weren't conforming) and as a result I avoided doing a lot of things that I wanted to do. Anyway while I pretended to be independent of everyone else I was actually envious of them, and to some extent, wished I was them. Then comes yearbook day. Ah yes, yearbook day. I feigned indifference despite how nostalgic I actually felt. Or at least how nostalgic I thought I should feel. After we were done I read a few entries. What? Him? He admired me? He looked up to me? I was always thinking how great it would be to be him. He was so smooth, so at ease wherever he was. He dated such beautiful women, and it was obvious he didn't have a care in the world. Yet apparently it sucks to be him. It must, considering he wished he could be more like me. To be fair, it was more flattering than it was depressing, at least at first. As I thought about it later, I wondered if, given that one of my classmate's aspirations was to be more like me, maybe the things I desired were also things which, if achieved, would turn out to be not as great as I thought they would be (and I mean this in addition to the "now what?" feeling that is inevitable with the realization of a goal that has taken so much time and effort.It's not all bad though.....I look forward to the day when I am not so childish and learn how to enjoy the finer things in life. Hopefully by then I will not have lost this conviction that we can accomplish anything. Maybe the condition of knowing what I want and believing I can get is what I want. Did that make sense? I don't care, it was the perfect, sappy, ending to my sappy blog entry this evening. And cut.