Little Meow

The Chinese word for "cat" is "mao," which I'm personally convinced is an onomatopoeia for the sound that the animal makes. The word for a kitten is just "xiao mao," where "xiao" means small/little. So in my head I think of the Chinese word for kitten as "little meow." I dig it.

I was in a restaurant a couple days ago just across the street from the college and on the second floor of the restaurant, one of the ones I don't go to very often and I'm actually not sure of the name of right now. It's very thin, with vibrantly colored floors and menu and a TV that's way too loud. I haven't had much luck with the things I've ordered there before, but I don't just want to go to the same two or three restaurants for 10 months so sometimes I try to do something new.

When I showed up, a guy who I'm pretty sure is the owner was sitting at a table two across from me, and there was a kitten on the table with him that kept poking at his food. The waitress girls - possibly his daughters - were eyeing it, and then I think he picked it up and put it on the ground. It kept running around his feet searching for bits of food or trying to pull its way back up, so one of the girls grabbed it by the scruff of its neck, opened a door to another room in the side of the eating area, and closed the kitten behind the door. I was a little sad, because I wanted to eat with him/her.

Later, after my food came out, the kitten managed to walk out of the door when someone else walked through it. It walked around for a little while, and then I think one of the girls noticed it again. She picked it up and was walking towards the door, but an older woman noticed that I was watching intently, and probably looked sad. She said something, and the girl looked at me. I put my hand out. I didn't know what to say, because I didn't know the word for "cat" or "kitten" yet. I know the words for "I want" and "it," but I don't know if it's for humans or animals. If it's for humans, I didn't want to look at some 14-year-old waitress girl and say "I want it." I ended up just saying "Wo yao!" [I want!]. It was clear enough what I was talking about, so she came over and handed the little meow to me.

It sat on my lap for the first little while and I pet it while it rested on my knee. Sometimes it was claw and knead my knee, which I didn't mind because it's just a kitten and not actually painful in any way. Eventually he got a little bit nosy and started aiming for my food, and then insisted on jumping up on the table. I held him off for a little while by putting pieces of meat on a napkin in very small chunks and letting it try to eat them, which it would manage after a bit of effort. But then it kept going for the noodles, and I didn't really have anything more to give him. He wanted the whole plate, not just the pieces. So I put him back on my knee, but he didn't like that, so he hopped down to the floor, and the waitress took him back again.

Peace out.

Not Creative, Just Poor

My desk was too low.

Peace out.

The Rules

1. The Rules are written in pencil so that you can change them if you really fucked up. They go into effect at 12:30PM, Monday, August 6th, 2012, China time. But you should start earlier than that.

2. Write a blog post every day. It doesn't need to be long, or current, or true. It can just be an idea. But you have to do it.

3. Carry your camera with you outside of class. Remember your graduation speech? Remember how happy you were to see your Digital Pictures 2 folder? Who cares if your jean pockets ruin one per year? It's worth it!

4. If something is too personal for a blog, that's why you're going to do your absolute best to take up stick figure art again. You'll be glad you did. So grab a fucking hard-back spiral bound journal ASAP and get on it.

5. Stop feeling inadequate/being a pussy and try to write some fucking songs. And don't blame the guitar. Stop being lazy, get over it, and get better at it.

6. You have 30 minutes on Reddit per day. No link hogging. DO COOL SHIT instead.

7. Email or elsewise contact old friends sometimes. You'll both appreciate it.

8. Explore more once you get a bike. Look for buildings to climb, good public pieces, places you could put your own, ways to interact with the environment.

9. DETAILSDETAILSDETAILSDETAILSDETAILSDETAILSDETAILSDETAILSDETAILSDETA

10. Spend as little time eating as you can. Be wary of lingering conversation.

11. Studying Chinese gets moved up the priority list. Now is th etime.

12. Once you get a bike, exercise at least 4x/wk. Try to get skates/stick/puck.

13. Acceptable pastime activities: Blog, photograph, draw, guitar, piano, write, email friends, study Chinese, exercise, watch a movie/lecture, read a book, do math.

Unacceptable: Reddit, Facebook.

14. You listen to to-do lists so MAKE SOME! And then follow through.

15. Read the rules sometimes to help remind you of them/enforce them.

THE AMENDMENTS

I. Program for at least 15 minutes a day. Project Euler counts; so does Udacity.

II. Aim for 3 pages of AoPS per day and 1 page of The Math Book. per day.

//

In real life, they're highlighted and underlined. I didn't write the word "pastime." I actually wrote "past-time" and realized that it was wrong, underlined it to shame myself, and draw a smiley face with equal-sign eyes over top of it.

Peace out.

The Mobility Myth

I just happened across this post at SomethingAwful in their prison thread and thought it was pretty interesting, so I'm just keeping it for posterity... of myself.

"There is political opposition to asking questions like 'Why do people commit crime?', because the answer- 'In many communities, the best choice for an ambitious hard-working upwardly-mobile youth is organized crime.'- doesn't fit into our national myth of egalitarian upward mobility through hard work. So the very idea of trying to understand social issues at all is demonized and ridiculed."

Peace out.

Long Exposure

I hope the formatting on this doesn't come out like poop.

((O_O))

//

Edit: Holy yay! I can email pictures to my blagonet!!! So ya'll can expect from pictures from China/Cambodia.

Peace out.

Long Division

From Steve Yegge:

"I went back and looked at the long-division algorithm they teach in grade school, and damn if it isn't annoyingly complicated. It's deterministic, sure, but you never have to do it by hand, because it's easier to find a calculator, even if you're stuck on a desert island without electricity. You'll still have a calculator in your watch, or your dental filling, or something."

Peace out.

Handwritten

One bad thing about handwritten letters is that I can never remember what I said in the ones I sent out.

Peace out.

The Website is Down

The power in the dorm flickered on and off yesterday in the afternoon, and the internet remained down thereafter for about twenty-four hours. I sent an email to ResCom which read as follows:

"Please reconnect the internets in simmons hall. There have been no blogotubes for the past 24 hours.

Thanks"

Things still didn't get fixed after that, so Matt and I made this comic, and sent it to ResCom.

Click here for comic

We did not get a reply.

But the internet came back.

Peace out.

A Goon's Summary of Ayn Rand

Since you haven't read the books, let me summarize:

Evil non-WASP liberals with spooky names: we're outlawing money because we're terrible straw men.

Sexy Elite WASPs with heroic names like Max Powers and Jon Thor: BUT WE DESERVE TO HAVE ALL THE MONEY BECAUSE WE ARE SPECIAL!

Liberals: No. No money for you. We're going to melt your mansion down and feed it to the homeless.

WASP: BUT I WANT MONEY!

//

part 3 is just going to be a 3 hour long scene where a guy reads Galt's speech over a post-apocalyptic soundtrack

And a boxing glove attached to a spring-loaded mechanical arm punches you repeatedly in the balls while sitting in your theater seat.

Peace out.

Why I Don't Like Pro Tools

Before when I wrote songs, every song had its own feel. Snow and Lights made me think of looking out the bay window in the winter down toward the street light in my front yard doing a snow storm. Sleep in Peace made me think of a young couple in a small house packing their things up and moving to a neighborhood like mine. Meaning to Write made me think of driving in my car on an open back road on a clear night. One Day One Night made me think of getting on a plane and flying home and my neighbor's basement and how I would get to and from the airport and how I excited I was to write that song.

Now every song feels like this:

Click for full-size

Boring. Dumb. Emotionless. Empty. Mathematical. MIDI. Plastic. Edited. Talentless. Computerized. Ugh.

Before, whenever I would write a song, I would just close my eyes and practice it over and over and over again at the piano, and recording was done in one shot, over and over and over again, until I played and sang the whole thing through with (almost) zero mistakes. I wasn't micromanaging. I wasn't editing. Plastic perfection wasn't the aim. Just the correct essence of the song. Pro Tools kills that. Now the aim is synthetic perfection. It doesn't matter if your song has a soul or not; Rebecca Black's Friday is regarded as better than Apathy by The Stuff because it's been airbrushed.

If Pro Tools was the only way to record songs, I don't think I ever would have started. And if I ever use it again, it will be long, long after I've cemented what a song is to me, so that its image in my head is of what the song really is, instead of some gray and black computer screen.

Peace out.

The Duck

Rigatoni's got rid of the fake plastic candles on their tables. Today was the first day I noticed. I stayed late to talk to Hortense and a friend of hers visiting from Cornell at a different table, one towards the window and the back. When we were eating, Hortense looked over my shoulder and shouted "DUCK!" and I looked out the window behind me and saw a cute mallard walking up and down the window that went all the way to the ground, quacking as it went, even though I couldn't hear it. It wanted to come inside because it knew there was food here, but it couldn't figure out the way in, architecture was simply too complicated for it to handle. Other people got bread on their way out, and we saw them break bits of bread and throw them towards the duck, and he ate them, and I decided I wanted to be like them and feed him too, so on the way out I went to get some bread from the very quiet bread girl who never gives you enough oil or cheese, right next to the cute Chinese girl with the well-defined jawline, and asked for a slice of bread, she asked which kind, and I didn't know which one to go with, but I thought the baguettes would be too tough for the duck, so I got rosemary instead because it looked softer. It was softer. But when I threw it to the duck, he ignored it, and the ignored it again, and then I threw one that I know he saw, and he put his beak up to it for a second, shook it, and ran away. It was too strong for him.

Peace out.

I Don't Know

I came back to visit the high school during my freshman year of college to tell Mr. Trabocco that I had transferred from Brown to Penn State, and his reaction was an incredulous, "What is wrong with you?!" I didn't have a defense prepared. He said, "You just wrote yourself a one-way ticket to the proletariat, buddy."

//

Today I went to talk to a random computer science honors advisor about a career in software engineering. I told him that I was interested in computer science, specifically in being a code monkey, just sitting down at a screen and writing programs that do cool stuff, and his response was, through chuckles, "What is wrong with you?" Again, I didn't know.

Peace out.

Joe

Just so that I remember: I asked the folk singer Joe Crookston at a house party how I could actually get into the music scene without my parents killing me for wanting to be a starving artist, and he said to work at music camps. Residential, work with other artists, get paid, do something cool, meet the big times. Good advice.

Peace out.

Throwing Away

We cleared a bunch of stuff out of the basement today. Included: A puzzle of three white kittens that my mom completed and framed when I was in middle school sometime. A tiny kid-sized drumset that my dad got me for Christmas when I was in elementary school, and I thought that a drum solo consisted of hitting each drum once, in order, as fast as you could, and I thought that you could march a concert snare by tying a length of rope around it. A styrofoam "bubble" that you could strap around my back when I was about five years old, because I was afraid of swimming, and I think I only used it once or twice; I remember one of them was a sunny day in my mom's friend's backyard pool.

I have a tiny bit of hoarder/pack-rat tendencies. But not too bad.

Peace out.

Coldstone

Tarik: What's "Ayn Rand?"
Collin: Satan.

Peace out.

Pointers

Oh man! I just encountered my FIRST REAL LIFE POINTER!

>>> Last

<function Last at 0x00D39C70>

yyyyyyyyeeeeessssssssssss

Peace out.

Status

With all of these bridges I've burned

And these badges I've earned

And the pages I've turned, well

You'd think that I'd learned.

All of the marvels I've seen

And the oceans between

And the stories I glean.

It's a shame

That I still feel the same.

Peace out.

Let it Out

I walked into McLanahan's the other day, I forget what I was going to buy, probably milk or something like that. It's cold and I think I had somewhere else I wanted to be, so I walking as quickly as possible. Like usually of late, I was wearing the black zip-up sweatshirt that Ryan got me this Christmas underneath the black paramilitary jacket that Jess got me Christmas of 2007. Right as I walked in the door, I saw two employees walking down the aisle toward the front of the store. I didn't hear anything of their conversation except for when the one in front said to the other, as he was walking away from him, "You know what I always say man: If you've got hate in your heart........ just let it out."

Peace out.

Whoaldorf Schools

A 2007 study in Sweden comparing Waldorf and state schools reported that Waldorf pupils were more likely to have a positive learning attitude, less likely to have passing tests as the goal of their learning, and had a "more in-depth study style" in higher education. They also showed more tolerant attitudes to minority groups and less tolerance of racist ideologies, were more involved with social and moral questions and were more likely to believe in the social efficacy of love, solidarity, and civil courage as opposed to legislation or police control.

(In addition, Waldorf students tended to wait longer before attending university.)

Peace out.

A Secret

When someone really likes you, they kiss you with their eyes open.

Peace out.

Sadness of

The sound of high heels clicking against the ground has always made me sad; it reminds me of girls not thinking they're pretty enough, of stumbling back "home," of mom going out on the weekends and being left alone.

Peace out.

The Comet

When I was really little - like before 2nd grade - my dad got me this computer game/information game thing, I don't really even remember, but it was all about dinosaurs. I think it was just called "Dinosaurs." I can recall that there was one part where you could just click on different little icons, and it would take you to a new window/screen that just played a short animated movie about some part of dinosaur history. Dinosaurs in the air, large ones, predators, herbivores, whatever. I don't actually remember any of those in particular.

The only one that I do specifically remember is the one about dinosaurs going extinct. Most notably, the image of the comet crashing to the earth and how incredibly scared it made me. The image was of a bunch of brontosauruses chillin' like villains on a reddish plain, eating from some trees, with a stormy looking dusk sky in the background. It was mostly a reddish and orange image, possibly with some grays in the sky. Then something started lighting up behind the clouds as it moved closer to the earth and the dinosaurs turned their heads. The image of it behind the clouds really sticks out - it was well done, you could see an amorphous colored orb dilating in size and brightness as it went through different thickness and gaps in the clouds. Finally it touched down, and there was just a flash of white. Then everything changed, and it talked about the eventual extinction of all the dinosaurs, but when I remember most about this part is an emaciated t-rex stumbling to take its last few steps, and then falling over sideways and dying. Everything in the frame was grayish, gray dinosaur, gray sky, gray sands, and it was very eerie and scary to a 6-year-old me.

For a long time I was very very afraid of the earth getting hit by a comet and everyone dying out. I would look up at the sky - especially when it looked like it did in that video - and wonder if some light would start to shoot down the sky and be followed by a flash of white, and then I'd walk around and stumble to take my last few steps before falling over and dying in all gray. Sometimes I still worry about the first part. Sometimes I'm walking or driving or doing homework and I just imagine that orb of light crashing down in the sky wherever I can see the sky.

("Did anyone ever teach you to visual success?")

Peace out.

ArbitRage

This is the story of how to get screwed by Amazon. I think this is going to be another post that lands near the top of Google searches for related terms, which is unfortunate, but oh well.

So I was looking for a book called A History of Cambodia by David Chandler, which is supposed to be a really great history book that focuses on people instead of just great men and also focuses on times before Europe got there, instead of treating them as a prologue to Cambodia's real (white) history. A new copy of the book can run anywhere from like $35 to $100 depending on hardback and edition and all that jazz, but new copies were typically in the range of like $10 - $20. I found one in Amazon Marketplace for like $4 (+ shipping) and considering the description of the condition, figured it was the best deal I could find and went for it. Hooray! I couldn't wait to read about the people's history in Cambodia!

(To explain why: the orphanage I'm working at said that I may have an opportunity to teach history, and if that's the case, I want to make sure I have a thorough knowledge of Cambodian history in particular)

Anyhow, I came back to my house from a New Year's Eve party at about 2:00AM and saw a manila package with my name on it. A book! Hooray! Except it didn't look big enough to be the history book, nor did it feel heavy enough. I opened it up and found Mad Mary: A Workbook for Groups or Individuals, from the Bad Girls of the Bible series. I wondered what the hell had gone wrong. I went to my computer (keep in mind this is 2AM on Jan 1) to check what I had purchased. Definitely A History of Cambodia and definitely NOT anything close to Mad Mary. I kept looking through my email accounts and the Amazon account and my debit card's payment history to see if I had bought anything like this, but nothing was turning up. I looked through the package and saw the order slip inside, which seemed to imply that I had ordered Mad Mary, but I was putting together that something wasn't right here. I then noticed on the order slip that it appeared the seller was some name I had never seen before, and milde4 was the listed buyer. I wondered briefly if this was a joke gift from milde4, and wondered, "Whose initials are MIL that I know who lives in Delaware?" After running through my mental rolodex and coming up empty, I decided to try other options.

This was after I had taken a shower. It's now about 2:35AM on Jan 1.

I went to the sites for the listed seller, I thought about trying to contact them, I even went to the live help section to see if I could find what was going on. It was too late at night for that, so instead I typed milde4 into Google to find their page.

This is where I started to put it together.

People had posted questions often in the past on Amazon forums and jazz like that about milde4 and who they were and what they were doing and why they had so many sales and why something went wrong with their sale and why they got the wrong item. People who knew what they were talking about more would respond to them and claim that milde4 is a prolific drop-seller. I kept reading on for a little while, trying to figure out exactly what the hell was happening, but even after a number of pages and forums I was still a little confused. It was 3AM now, and I crawled in bed still trying to figure out exactly what had happened.

It was actually in bed that night that I did lay out the truth of the situation, which is like this.

Milde4 is one of the many names of an arbitrageur who operates a few sites. Arbitrage is when there exists a price difference for a single good in two different locations at the same time from different ends of the transaction. That is to say, suppose that Alice want to sell Book X for $3 and Bob wants to buy Book X for $10. This is an arbitrage situation, and a skilled arbitrageur would jump in, buy the book from Alice at $3, sell it to Bob for $10, and keep the $7 profit.

That's exactly what was supposed to have happened here. Alice was selling "History" for $.75 on Half.com and I was buying "History" for $4 on Amazon.com, so milde4 was supposed to make $3.75 by just buying the book from Alice but telling her to ship it to me, when I had just paid milde $4 for the book.

The only issue is that this operation is all carried out by software, is rarely ever checked by humans, and they make bugs a significant number of times. Like, from 3-10% of the time. In this case, the software's issue was that it thought Mad Mary was the same item as History. I don't know why it got this wrong - no parts of the book are similar at all - but it did.

So now I'm stuck with a book I don't want, and I want to correct this. I also feel pretty pissed off because arbitrage is a sort of juvenile thing to do in the first place and a way that leeches in society can make money, and I'd like to get back at whoever is behind the milde4 account. So I talk to customer support at Amazon to see if I can compel them to give me a copy of History. After all, the deal was I give you $4, you give me History. I don't care if you screwed up, I'm not liable for your mistakes, I held up my end of the deal and now you have to hold up yours. On top of that, you're a scammer and deserve to be punished, so I'd like a new copy of the book, hardback, please.

Unfortunately it's not in my power to do that. So I just have to settle for sending it "back" to him (for the first time) and get a refund. And hopefully get a refund on the shipping too. He asked me to print out a copy of the email saying that I had a defective product along with the product.

However, my printer was having serious issues. I don't want to go into too much detail, but it involved waiting for my mom to return from all her errands with the ink, changing it, putting the printer back online, sharing it, seeing what was wrong with our network, calling the computer guy at my dad's office, and waiting for him to fix it, all of which took about 5 hours. And I get tunnel vision with things like this, so I did nothing else all day.

Knowing that I have tunnel vision though, I personally gave up on the printer at 3PM, put the email on a flash drive, and decided to print it at Kinkos. The girl there, who was about my age, definitely thought I was a little bit crazy. I justified my actions to her by saying that "I'm away from home and my printer is broken," which are sort of disconnected and doesn't really make sense if you think about it, but I didn't really care. It cost $.11, which I don't think will ever be recouped, sadly.

Then I went to the post office, which I thought was a sleepy place for old people, but it was JAM PACKED. Seriously the line was like 20 deep. I couldn't believe that I had to try to fix my printer for 3 hours, step into a Kinkos, pay to print something, and then wait in a 20-person line all because this milde4 asshole had screwed up their algorithm and never bothered to check. I texted a few people while I was in the line - Kristin to see if I could hang with her; Tarik to see if his mosque was fixed; Haley because now I was bored in a long line.

Eventually, twenty minutes later or so, I had bought the necessary envelope and gotten it shipped. A girl who I had noticed on the way in - who I think was a senior in high school, judging from the "SENIOR" written on the back window of her car - walked in and out at the same time as me. She looked at me, definitely clearly as surprised as I had been that there would be 20+ people in a dinky post office at such a time of day and year, and we exchanged a few words about how trippy that had felt.

I went home.

And this is why I will always Google the people I'm buying from before I buy from them.

Peace out.

We Suck

"In his book The African Slave Trade, Basil Davidson contrasts law in the Congo in the early sixteenth century with law in Portugal and England. In those European countries, where the idea of private property was becoming powerful, theft was punished brutally. In England, even as late as 1740, a child could be hanged for stealing a rag of cotton. But in the Congo, communal life persisted, the idea of private property was a strange one, and thefts were punished with fines or various degrees of servitude. A Congolese leader, told of the Portuguese legal codes, asked a Portuguese once, teasingly: 'What is the penalty in Portugal for anyone who puts his feet on the ground?' "

[Howard Zinn, A People's History of the United States]

Peace out.

New Years Eve

New Years Eve this year was a party that Chloe took me to, where I knew some of the people, and didn't quite know the rest, but in many cases had heard of them. I was rather worried when I showed up at first, but ended up having a really great time.

//

"DUDE. THIS GUY DID THE BEST STAGE TRICK. HE WAS SMOKIN A CIGARETTE -- HE ATE THE CIGARETTE!"

//

Talking with Dave about history and why America sucks and health care and morals, and everyone sort of paying attention and talking for the first bit, and then people slowly filtering out, and then realizing that Gab I was completely engrossed in the conversation and listened intently without saying a word until Dave and I were done talking.

//

"I hope they don't ruin Tron!"

"...Did you see the first Tron? It sucked. You can't ruin Tron."

//

His family tried to have an intervention on him to get him to stop drinking... while he was high on shrooms.

//

Oh man, the strip club story. They paid the cute girl in the strip club $40 to get their friend, K-hole, into "The Hot Seat," which they were not sure what it was. And yes, you know there's a problem because I said they got the cute girl in the strip club. The next thing they hear is "K-Hole to the hot seat, K-hole to the hot seat," but he freaks out, so they made another roommate go. He goes up on stage to the chair, and they tie him up in it. Then the cute girl says, "Alright Trisha, come on out."

And Trisha is not the cute girl. At all. Apparently she's some Amazon-sized Vietnamese girl with a not-so-great face, and she proceeded to beat and humiliate the kid in front of everyone. Apparently the worst move that she did was put whipped cream on her thigh right on the edge of her underwear and then force the kid to lick it off, which made him gag and almost throw up.

//

I was the first one to buy from the Wawa on Route 1 this year! $.20 for a Peppermint Patty.

Peace out.

Untied States of America

It's sort of funny how America, perhaps the only nation to be founded on the extermination of one race and the enslavement of another, fails to recognize the irony of making its creed "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

Peace out.

Gingerbread Wat

Edit: Ginger Wat was JULIA's idea. JULIA's.

There was a gingerbread house study break recently in the dorm. Jen had asked me to go as part of our night of exciting things (!), plus I kind of wanted to go anyway, so I said I’d see her there. Since I actually had time to think about the fact that I was going to it, I had time to think of ways to “do it wrong.” In the early evening I had thought about building a replica of F. L. Wright’s “Falling Water” (Waters?), but upon inspecting the plans of that, decided it would be nigh on impossible to make a recognizable facsimile from the materials at hand. I think because of the painting Julia had made for me, I thought of making a gingerbread model of Angkor Wat instead. I got a few nice pictures of it up on my computer, and we went upstairs when it was time.

The crew consisted of Jen, Haley, Julia, Matt, Nick M, and myself. Matt and Nick both have engineering backgrounds, so that was nice. We were given a paper plate as a foundation, but we immediately knew that was NOT good enough. So I went to my room and got the base piece of cardboard from the pizza box Tarik and I had used last night. The person running the program thought we were kind of crazy, but we knew it was worth it.

We worked on the border first, using the graham crackers they provided. Jen and Haley worked on the inside square pagoda, which we realized was not going to be sufficiently tall at some point, so they needed to work on yet another base for it, and then a support column, which Matt and Nick also helped with. I worked on the spires with Julia, which were made out of Dots, and when that was finished, Julia used my Pokey Sticks to make the columns, and a candy cane to make the gate.

We were the last ones there. When we were done, it actually did look somewhat convincingly like Angkor Wat. Julia made a banner/plaque for it, two graham crackers next to each other, covered with white frosting, with “ANGKOR WAT” written in red, and a line of nerds at the top.

When we were done…

We decided we were the coolest.

Peace out.

Hits and Mrs.

Shortly after the second creeper-peeper incident occurred in Simmons Hall, the police decided it was time to start taking this thing seriously. Papers with descriptions of the suspects and crimes were posted all throughout Simmons Hall, people went in to discuss leads, and cops and RAs roamed the halls frequently.

I, being my normal self, continued to visit friends at night. At this point in the year – possibly October? – that meant a mix of going to see Julia/HK, Hortense/Haley, and Kerry. I forget exactly why on this particular night, but it was around 1AM and I felt like saying hey to either of the last two rooms. Perhaps I had already seen Julia/HK.

So I ran up the stairs to the second floor and popped out of the stairwell to see two police officers walking past. Surprising, to say the least, and I was immediately sure that they would suspect something was going on. “Hey,” I said to them, trying my best to be not-inconspicuous, before continuing down the hall to see Hortense/Haley. I saw that the lights were dim in their room, but figured I’d knock softly anyway. No response. Knocked again a few times. No response. No big deal, hadn’t seen Kerry in a while, so I went down the two hallways to see her.

As I approached her room, the two cops saw me again as they walked their way back from the wing of the building. Definitely suspicious by now. “Do you live here?” they asked me. I didn’t really understand the question. “Yeah – I mean, on the ground floor yes, but not on this floor.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m visiting my friend Kerry, so…” I looked at Kerry’s door. It had her name on it (score! Eat that, cops!), and she always stays up late, and the lights were still on. I knocked, and she came to the door quickly and opened it. I was standing there, with two cops behind me, looking in.

“Oh, uh… hey,” she said. She was clearly thrown off by the situation. I asked her how it was going and stepped in to close the door behind me, letting the officers go on their way and explaining this strange situation to Kerry.

Peace out.

Multiplication Fables

A lot of times when I go to cafeterias, I think about the tables. Yes, I’m aware this is weird. But I think it’s strange how an object can just sit there and have so many things happen on top of it and remain totally unchanged in their wake. People break up, people fight, people fall in love, people tell secrets, people become friends, people scream and shout, and nothing ever happens to the surface, you could never even tell. It almost seems unfair. I feel like everyone’s life is made worse by the fact that when you look at the tables, you can’t see the stories that have happened on them.

Peace out.

AAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!

My friend from the Third Floor Girls named Emily W had this thing she always did. Whenever anyone made a sex joke or sexual innuendo, so we would a circle with one hand and then put vigorously put her other index finger in and out of it while shouting, “AAAAAYYYY!!!!” If it was a gay joke, she would do it with her two index fingers, or sometimes one index finger coming in “from behind.” If it was lesbian, sometimes she would make two circles, or sometimes two pairs of legs.

At Ceci’s party, I had been sitting with Chloe for most of the night, on the opposite side of the room from Matt. At one point I decided it was time for some horrible jokes, so I got up from where I was seated to join Matt on the table he was sitting on. And the rest is history. Terrible, terrible history.

I forget exactly what the first joke was, but me and Matt both did the Emily move. Then there was one more bad innuendo immediately following, and we did it again. Keep in mind that everyone laughed both times, quite heartily. Then I said to Matt, “Get it? It was an innuendo,” to which he dutifully responded, “You mean, an in your end-o!” And then we both did the AAAAAYYYYY again, and everyone laughed. I’m glad that he picked up on my telekinetic signals. Otherwise we wouldn’t have been funny at all.

Peace out.

YouTube Piano Sensation

So I found my way to become a Youtube phenomenon.

I was in Best Buy on December 23rd or so, and my sister and Sam were off looking at presents or games or whatever else, and failing to find a foreign film section where I could buy Three Idiots, I decided to play the pianos instead. I noticed that there were five pianos. And a lightbulb went off.

I played some chords on the first one while recording – Ab, Eb, Fm, Db… I played them a number of times in a row and in as steady a beat as I could. With my right hand on the “Play” button and my left hand stretched between the “Record” button and the first note of the melody, I started the first piano while playing the melody on the second piano. Then I played the first piano again and added in some strings with a third keyboard. I moved to the fourth and fifth keyboards to add some drums or guitar, only to realize that their power chords were missing! Melissa D had joined me by this point, and I asked a worker if he could turn them on so I could try them, but he said he couldn’t because the cords were missing. Well how would you try them to buy them?

Whatever. I still had three pianos going at the same time. And yes, the song – for those of you who played the chords at home! – was Paparazzi by Lady Gaga.

I’m going to do this again with a video camera. And like 7 pianos. And then I’ll be famous.

Not that I care.

Also I will never be famous.

Peace out.

Bhagat

"I told the author about my limited English. However, he said big emotions don't come from big words, so I had no choice but to do the job. I hate authors."

Peace out.

Nightmares

I had a run of mini-nightmares in the past few nights of sleeping. I guess over the past five days or so. The first one was about canning - I dreamed that we were all on a canning trip, maybe even one with me as a trip leader, and it was Saturday morning and we didn't even wake up until 9AM! Which would be terrifying if I were responsible. In the second one, I think I dreamed that Jen (possibly someone else, but I'm pretty sure) was in my room trying to turn on my Christmas lights while I was laying on the futon, but they wouldn't go on. Sometimes they would light up dimly for a fraction of a second, but they would never work. Also terrifying, because the alternative is overhead fluorescent. The last one was that I had to carry my cat, Cocoa, a long distance by hand. That might not seem too bad, but Cocoa doesn't like to hang out with you for more than like ten seconds at a time, and I had to carry her like a quarter mile in my dream. And for no reason, too. That was pretty bad.

Also, who the hell decided to spell it fluorescent with a u-o?

Peace out.

Trapped

Tarik was telling a story the other day.

//

Dude, I got trapped when I went to Mike and Collin's room.

huh?

I forgot my shoes in there, and so they texted me to come get them. So I went to their room, and I knocked on the door, and they open it, but just said, "Come in!" And when I opened the door, it was just dark, and I saw the two of them like, on their couch cuddling or something, I couldn't really tell, and I was just like, "Why are they doing that?" So then they say, "Come get your shoes, Tarik!" And they point to the back of the room, and so I walk towards it, and as I do I realize that my shoes are underneath a little cardboard box that's propped up on a little piece of plastic with a string tied to it. And I just stop and look at them, and they just wait and wait, and so I went down to pick my shoes up, and they pulled string out, and the box fell over my hand and they just... lost it. "WE TRAPPED TARIK! AHAHAHAHHA!"

//

Peace out.

To Be Safe

If I am somehow unlucky enough to be murdered or killed, use this as evidence that I would be extremely unhappy to know that the guilty party would be given the death penalty.

Peace out.

100,000,000

This is going to be the background music to one of the songs I'm writing for my thesis. Just the chorus, that is.

Best and Worst Clothes Day

There are four clothing items in my life which caused memorable sadness when I realized they were lost.

1) The baby-blue maple leaf "CANADA" shirt that Jessica got me. It was the first shirt I wore of that type, which is to say, the type that I still wear today. I had it for a while, and don't know where it went, or have any idea at all where it could have gone.

2) The many-blue-color beanie hat that Jessica got me one year for Christmas, and that I wore on the last night of Governor's School when we painted the fence, and got some paint on one side of it. I know I had it until sometime in college, and think that I lost it on a drumline weekend, possibly at the Rutherford's house.

3) The wetsuit-tight blue jacket that Kelly got me for our fake Valentine's Day dinner in 11th grade (at least, I think it was 11th grade. It may have been 10th). It was the first tight zip-up jacket that I got, and was the gold standard for all other jackets I've gotten since then.

4) The "SHUUUUUNNNNNN" Charlie the Unicorn shirt that Matt got me when he was in North Carolina. It fit really well and was extremely nerdy and always got attention and comments. I had no idea how it could have gotten lost, except maybe a home/college transfer.

Well anyway, this Sunday I woke up to go play hockey, and I opened up my closet and looked up and to the left, and THERE WAS BLUE JACKET! I was so pumped! What a great way to start the day! I knew that the universe would give me good karma for waking up on time for hockey. Then I opened my drawers to look for a black shirt and white shirt (to help clear up which team I'm on), and the first black shirt I pulled out was the SHUUUUUNNNNN shirt!!! SURELY A DAY FOR THE HISTORY BOOKS!

I was so pumped.

So I went to play hockey. I took the black and white shirts down and put them on the bleachers, figuring I'd put them on later when I knew what team I would be on. Turns out I didn't need either of them because my "air hockey legend" shirt was dark enough to be clear indication.

At about 6PM that night - I had gotten back from hockey at noon - I realized that I didn't pick up the shirts from the bleachers.

Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang you guys

With nothing better to do - and the Eagles not on until 8PM or so - I figured I'd just put on some NPR or Fallout Boy and see if they were still there. NPR was awful, so I just put on the mixed FOB CD that I made from mp3s that Misha gave me in the last weeks of Semester at Sea. It was good fun, for sure.

I got there, well past dark, and was one of two cars in the lots. I was sure an officer would come up immediately and ask why I was there. I'd sound silly explaining it, and ask him to accompany me. That would not assuage his fears at all. What is he really looking for? Turned out there were no officers, but the moon was very bright, so I wouldn't need to rely on the light of my cell phone to help me look. I walked down the hill, feet wet from frost grass, and saw that they were not where I had left them. I look underneath, nothing. In the recycling can, the trash can, on the rink. Nothing. Maybe one of the hockey players had taken them for safekeeping. Maybe other players later had taken them. Maybe the children of the Mexican soccer league participants that usually filled the park had taken them when they came to play soccer in the hockey rink. I didn't know. I only had one shot left though.

I went home and emailed the list of guys that had played hockey that day. "Did anyone happen to grab one black and one white t-shirt? Thanks."

And an hour or so later, I got an email back "Yeah, Chris B took them. Talk to him."

Hooray!

Surely this is the best, and worst, and best clothes day ever!!

Peace out.

Pancake Dinner

I went to the Habitat for Humanity pancake dinner at a church on Thursday night because Haley suggested it at some point in the day. I guess really she just told me about it, and I went because it was all you can eat pancakes for $5, and who could turn that down? Not me. But I'm sure if you're reading this, you already knew that.

Well anyway, I went around 5:25PM or so with the normal crew, including HK and Shengnan, and I remember HK took a pretty killer fall right in the middle of the road as we walked over. Matt, Tarik, and I reminded her that she should look where she's going. There was a car headed towards her, but fortunately it stopped. It was an SUV.

The dinner was sort of crowded, and their pancake-making capacity did not meet the popularity of the event. I'm sure they were trying their hardest though. At one point they told the back half of the line to just sit down because it'd be so long, so that's when everyone at our table just hung out for a while. We got back in line later, and I got three pancakes, plain, which were pretty good. Some other people got back in line later to get some more, and just to avoid sitting alone at a table, I went to hang out with them.

When we got to the front of the line, things slowed down a little. Someone came to take a picture of them. Then someone else came in and said, "Hey, where's [boy's name]? Hey - happy birthday!" It was one of the guys who was cooking behind the counter, over on the left if you were looking over the counter. The people up at the window shouted happy birthday to him as well.

And I added, "Congratulations! Many years ago today you were squeezed through your mother's vagina!"

That got some weird looks from people behind the counter. I didn't feel awkward, but I knew they did. So I just turned around and left.

Peace out.

Arraigned Marriage

Today we went to Lori's house for lunch/dinner, or whatever, but mostly just to hang out and talk. A lot of people that I wished could have gone couldn't go, and that made me sad, like Hortense, Haley, and Jen. Lori is my professor for CAS 100H and she's really awesome. Very alive. Haley and I, since she's actually in the class with me now, used to talk about how awesome she was and how we should Facebook friend her and go hang out with her on the weekends.

We came and had some vegan pizza, and then some vegetarian baked goods, and then went downstairs to play Wii and talk and not play pool, and then went upstairs to have a short concert, and then just proceeded to talk for a long time.

By the end of the evening it was just six of us or so sitting around the dining room table with her, and Stef mostly talked, mostly about her relationship with a Muslim boy who wasn't allowed to see her because she was not herself a Muslim. She gave her first speech in the class about this topic too, and it was clear from the way that she talked about it that it still gives her massive amounts of trouble and heartache. At one point I wondered if she might cry because I asked about it. I felt bad for asking about it at first, but then she talked more about it, and I thought maybe it was good that I asked.

I brought up arranged marriage, I think, but maybe it was Stef or Lori that did. In either case, I talked about how at first I thought it was a really silly idea and it made me uncomfortable to think about. Then I met my best friend at school, Tarik, this really bad-ass Muslim dude (as I described him to the table), who was pretty excited to get an arranged marriage. And I said eventually as I talked to him about it, I sort of came to understand why: He doesn't feel like dealing with the whole stupid annoying courtship crap, and he trusts that his parents are going to pick someone awesome for him. I said that even though my dad would never arrange a marriage for me, I saw his point, because I'm positive my dad would pick someone amazing for me, too, given the chance. [KEEP THIS IN MIND, DAD, IF YOU'RE STALKING MY BLOG. ARTS AND MATH.] And then I mentioned that I thought it was really cool that arranged-marriage societies all sort of make a statement about love, as a society, that it's not some crazy thing out of your control, but a choice. You can make the choice to love. Your parents will find someone who is good, and you'll spend the rest of you're life with them, and you'll be good to them, and they'll be good to you, and you'll love them. And if you have the right attitude, you can love anyone, because it's something you can control.

When we were leaving and saying our goodbyes, I leaned down to say goodbye to their dog and said, "Bye, Linus! Make the choice to love!"

Peace out.

Tee

Hortense is in a group called PSIADA, which I don't really know anything about except they're international and a debate club, or something like that. They were having a fundraiser today at Happy Valley Freez, and I figured I'd go to help out her club.

Another friend, Amy (from English 202), had asked me to play at an open mic for a charity group she's in as well (Global Hunger Awareness, maybe?). Hortense's club was at 6 and the other was at 6:30, so I figured I would just go one right after the other. Amy's club didn't have a piano set up there, so I just brought my guitar. And so when I went to Hortense's fundraiser, I was wearing my blue hat, Fall Out Boy t-shirt, white belt and jeans, and the guitar on my back.

I walked in. I looked around for Hortense, and she wasn't there. I could see some people who were clearly members of PSIADA in the corner to my right, but I don't know any of them. I don't really know what to do for the fundraiser, so I just kind of stand there for a moment. The guys in PSIADA are staring dead at me, then turn to each other and laugh. One of them says, "Uh, what?" quietly to his friends, and another says, "Oookay..." It seemed quite clear to me that they were judging me really hard.

So I went to the cashier, who came to the register by then, and said clearly, "I'm here for the PSIADA fundraiser. Could I get a small chocolate cone?" I made sure they could hear it. I took my guitar to the corner where they couldn't see me and ate.

I texted Hortense:

J: I'm here! Where are you?

H: Oh no! Not there yet! I can be there in fifteen, sorry!

J: Hurry! Your friends are tots judging me!

H: Haha i love you!

J: IT'S STILL HAPPENING =(

H: Haha i still love you

J: Awww, thanks horty! Love you too =)

Extremely adorable, although it did not alleviate the judging.

//

Hortense sat with me for a while as I finished up my ice cream. It wasn't a kid's size, and I legitimately had a very hard time forcing myself to finish all of it. I didn't ask for a cup or throw it away because I was already being judged.

Before we left, Hortense stood up from my table and went to go hug her friends goodbye. I got up and stood near the door. She talked to them quietly and laughed.

When she got to me, she said, "When I was talking to them they were like, Dude, you gotta lock that down." I didn't really understand. "What does that mean? Is that good? Like lock me down because I'm a crazy person? Or lock me down like girls and boys?" "Yeah, like to date you." I was extremely confused. We laughed about it. She told me that it meant they thought I was attractive. I still felt kind of silly.

//

I saw Hortense later in her room, after she took her shower. She asked if I wanted to hear a fun story about PSIADA, and I said sure, but that I also wanted to hear a final verdict on their judging of me. She said that was the funny story.

"I talked to my friends and was like, 'So, were you guys judging my friend?' And they said, 'Judging, I don't know what you're talking about!' 'Well, he says you guys definitely said something...!' And the kid who was bisexual was like, 'I wasn't judging him, I was checking him out. Is he fickle?' He didn't ask if you were gay because other people don't know he's bisexual, but I know."

How strange.

The moral of the story is

Peace out.

The Center

I went to see Tess work with her learning partner for English 202H today. I almost cried twice. He was a thirty-year-old man, roughly, with short brownish hair and short red facial hair. He came in listening to his iPod with his headphones in, and told Tess he was going to go get something from the vending machine. He offered to get her something if she wanted it; she said no, and so he offered to myself and Dave as well, who was also watching the session.

They pulled out the books they had been using. A pronunciation book (he was almost 100% perfect with that, actually), some Entertainment magazines, a Game Informer, a screenwriter's bible, a book of scary Pennsylvania stories. Tess decided the lesson for the day would be to work on the script he was writing. He read the script to us so far - also not bad at all at reading - which was more of an outline of a horror film, but not yet complete. He creates the plot as he goes.

Tess pointed out that he had mixed up the words from and form again. As he read, he often mixed up the names Chelsea and Katrina. He often wondered aloud where the period should go. He didn't know how to use quotation marks. He couldn't spell the word friends or the word Escalade on his own, although he got them later with some help and some sounding out. He seemed completely happy to work on the story the whole time.

It totally broke my heart.

He's such a nice guy. He really was sweet and very polite, and he makes the choice to come work with Tess every single time he does it. He has a job as a dishwasher that most people in college would never dream of taking. He tries, he really does. And he still couldn't write a proper sentence if his life depended on it - and I seriously mean that, because that's how bad it was. Sometimes he couldn't even get a single word correct.

It made me think of all the bullshit we hear. "Anyone can make it in America! If you just work hard, you can do anything!" No, false. Some people have legitimate problems, and no matter how hard they work, they can never overcome some difficulties. It kills me to know that society, in general, would provide no help to this man. That doesn't seem like the kind of thing that a kind people and a kind Earth can do. He's a good guy, he works hard, he tries, he does what he can. He survives because he has a family that loves him and treats him like gold. But if it weren't for that, he'd be on the streets for sure. And that should never be allowed. Meeting him and working with him, even for an extremely short time, made this actually hit home, and it feels more unconscionable now that it ever has.

Peace out.

Cutting Class

We were at Fourth Meal tonight and Dan R shared a great story with us.

D: "Once, I slit a girl's wrist in school with a pair of scissors."

Table: "!! Why?"

D: "Because she was a b****"

Table: [Lots of laughter] How did that possibly happen?

D: She was my lab partner and I hated her and we were just fighting and it got to the point that I was holding her hands in place and had a scissor blade to it and she said, "Do it, I dare you, you don't have the balls," and then I just did it and was like, "F*** you, yes I do!"

Table: [Incredulation]

D: Well, and the teacher was like twelve months pregnant, so she didn't care about ANYTHING. Kids would get changed for sports teams in the back of the room and she would just be like, "Oh, come on, guys..." And so when I did this, she didn't care at all, she was just like, "Dan, come on, clean it up." It kinda helped that she basically thought the girl had it coming.

I don't think I could ever imagine something quite like this happening at GV. Although kind of messed up, we laughed a ton during this story. He told it well.

Peace out.

Blanksy

It is significantly more difficult to find high-res images with a political message than you might imagine.

(Any help appreciated)

Peace out.

Matherton

Today I met Kathleen. Or really, introduced myself to her. I've seen her a few times on the way to or from Julia's room, but I've never asked for her name or given her mine. Today I wanted to play piano after lunch, so I went to Atherton (knowing Simmons would be crowded by that time) to give it a shot. I heard someone playing when I showed up, so I think I went to get a drink, and noticed that it seemed to pause for almost a whole minute while I was doing so. I figured maybe whoever was playing had gone to study instead of play but still in the lounge. So I poked my head in, and there was the girl from Julia's floor, looking at papers that had clearly been handwritten on the music stand. I knew immediately that she'd been writing a song.

"Did you want to play?"

"Oh, um.... I guess, yeah? But I really don't mean to kick you out!"

"No, it's cool, I was actually gonna go to the piano downstairs."

We talked a little bit more - I really wanted to make sure that she was okay with going to the piano downstairs - and she convinced me it was fine. She asked me what I wanted to play, and I said I didn't know, just something loud, because I didn't want to say "Fallout Boy."

What I should have done, I realized in hindsight, was ask her to play what she was writing for me. I'm not really upset at myself that I didn't ask, but somewhat surprised. I almost never ever turn down a chance see what someone I know made, and I wonder why I didn't jump for it in this case. I also wondered if that would affect her first impression of me. But I don't think it's a terribly big deal in either case.

Peace out.

This is Why We Can't Have Vice Things

I was in Washington this weekend I was staying with Kelly M, "Smiley Kelly," from Semester at Sea, and her roommate, Irena. Irena lived in Russia until she was eight years old and is a major in essentially Russian Studies. She's studied in St. Petersburg for a while and speaks fluent Russian, and told me about the street where the Duma used to be which is now a raving cesspool of madness on spring nights around 3AM.

We were talking about my own travelling (through Semester at Sea, of course), and I think we were talking about subways and metros and how Japan has the best system. She said Japan must have been awesome, but I told her that I didn't really like it, because people didn't smile at me very often. She said, "Well you can't really blame them, I mean, who do you think really has an interest in befriending white Americans?"

And I said, "People in Cambodia and Vietnam!" And I talked for a second about how nice and friendly the people there were compared to Japan, who wouldn't even make eye contact with me. And then I was about to say the following:

"Which is really strange, considering what America did to Vietnam in the war. What did we ever do to Japan?"

But before I did, I realized: OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH riiiiiiiiiiiiiight, and then didn't say that, and felt like an idiot.

Peace out.

My McBride

I heard that they're doing McDonald's weddings in Hong Kong.

//

I went to see James McBride today, the author of The Color of Water. I showed up late because I came from my first hockey game, which started extremely late, and so I had to leave early, after I scored a goal, while the game was still going on. I dropped my gallon of water on the rink on the way out. People were upset but Matt B took care of it. I felt like an idiot. I was still a little late for the speech but that was okay.

I sat alone, but realized that people I knew were sitting very close to me. I could see Haley, Jen, and Grace in the front row with the speaker series. James was wearing a hat and it made his face hard to see. My favorite line of his, when he was talking about discrimination and why it's bad, was the following:

"People who discriminate against gay people, they're no friend of mine. [...] In fact, God's gay, and he's a woman, and she's from Texas. How's that?"

//

I came to Shengnan's play late as well, because I had to leave another hockey game sort of early, although I don't really know if it was early or not. It took me forever to find parking because the lot I usually go to is under construction, so I had to run from another place, I actually don't even know where it is. I found 111 Forum faster than I normally do (it's right near 108!), and came in the second door, right near the sound person, who looked at me inquisitively. I looked for my friend HK who said she was coming, but to no avail. I sat down randomly.

I noticed Shengnan playing in the pit, which was facing the door to another Forum classroom so that the conductor could lead them. She was wearing a black dress with a bow on it. Tim B (from my hall) was in the play. There was also a guy with a painted-white face like Amanda Palmer and the other guy in Dresden Dolls, like in the Coin-Operated Boy video, I liked him a lot, but I think I was biased.

There was a girl sitting behind me who I didn't know and I liked before I talked to her. She leaned forward the whole time and laughed lightly and often. Additionally, she was cute. As the play went on, I considered turning to talk to her, see if I could charm her pants off, or maybe her underwear, though I'm not actually interested in that. As it turned out, she actually tapped my shoulder at the first, and asked me if I knew what time it was or how long the play was going to go on. I told her I had no idea but joked about how long it felt, and she laughed, and we said we were both really just here to see friends in the cast, and so we went to find them.

Peace out.

Campus Squirrels

I wish the squirrels on campus knew that I would never do anything to hurt them >.<

Peace out.

Chickens and Stabbing Apples

Two days ago, a bunch of guys from the floor and I went to Rigatoni's - Monday Rigatoni's, which is the best Rigatoni's, except for Wednesday. We got an inaugural cookie. Collin, Matt, Tarik, Nick, Tim, and Mike were there.

Dinner was cool. We talked about eggs, because someone asked if there were eggs in the salad. I asked if eggs were always so perfectly shaped and perfectly white, or if we had selected for chickens who made eggs like that, and thus forced them to evolve to where that was all they made. Some kids suggested that they had always been like that because the structure is the strongest that could be made. Matt, however, suggested that we had evolved them into this. He also suggested that chickens would soon be evolved into nothing but egg factories, who would sit in a barn eating a constant stream of corn and pooping a constant stream of eggs, which has the consequence, he said, that if one ever escaped, the entire world would be covered by eggs in a matter of days. I almost died laughing. I've retold the story a few times since then, and each time I died laughing. Even as I was writing this right now, I started laughing.

In either case, after we were done eating, we played the napkin game. You throw napkins into people's empty drink cups, and if you get a napkin in and then also get one in on the very next shot, then you win. More accurately, your victim loses. And the next time you have dinner with them, they can't have a drink. And they also have to wear the same color shirt for a week, even if that's the only shirt they have of that color.

During that, Matt got up to get an apple and some forks. He explained that you throw the apple to someone else at the table and they try to catch it by stabbing it with their fork. Then you throw it to someone else. We all thought you'd take the fork out, but he clarified, "No, you leave the fork in when you throw it. You just throw it by letting go of your fork." And so we all got our forks ready and started doing it. It was easier to stab it than I thought it would be, and eventually we were lobbing around this apple-and-three-fork conglomeration. I got my fork ready in hyper-stabbing mode and went for it so hard it just went straight through the side of the apple. Someone else slammed it down into their bowl.

Then a crotchety 30-something at the table behind us got up and came to our table.

"I know you guys think it's fun to act like you're 5, I know I did when I was in college, but you break it you buy it, so I think it's time for you to leave."

There were so many things wrong with the situation that we didn't even know what to do. First, she had no authority. Second, people break things in dining halls all the time and don't pay for them. Third, we already bought the apple, so if we broke it, who cares. We were seriously just dumbfounded, and not knowing which place of idiocy to capitalize on, we just left, and arranged for what to do next time. Possibilities included inviting her to play with us; asking her what crawled up her ass and died; telling her that she didn't have any authority to kick us out; telling her that we already bought it so we didn't have to buy it; suggesting that SHE leave; waiting until she asked us for our ID cards and then just running as fast as we could since they're all old and out of shape.

Peace out.

A Conversation with Gift

She told me her real name, though I forget what it was. Thai people usually have very long first names, apparently, and instead go by nicknames. Her nickname was Gift, which is apparently a very common one in Thailand. She was sitting in the orange chair by the main door in Emerson's apartment, the one that we didn't come in through at first. She was wearing green and black on top, which khaki-ish shorts, and lip gloss and eye-liner. Emerson and I talked to her for a little bit about Semester at Sea and how she could get the same scholarship that he did - by being an East Asian Studies major or minor - while I tried to show her that it was actually cheaper than a normal semester at UVA, which was beared out by the websites of the two organizations' own numbers. She also said that she was a biology major and didn't know if she could pull of the East Asian major or minor.

She told me that she had studied in a boarding school in Connecticut before coming to UVA, just for a year, and that was her first time in the states. She said that she mostly felt used to it by now, though. She used to be alright at speaking, but then she got self-conscious and clammed up, and from talking less and less, her English got worse and worse. Her roommate was the one to help her, and said that she could always talk to her and ask her for help with speaking or writing or anything. And slowly, over time, they worked on it. Her conversation with me was perfectly flowing. She said that she missed her roommate a lot.

I asked her what she thought was the most striking difference between Thailand and America. One thing she mentioned was the parties, and that she didn't understand why people did things like that. I forget what aspect of it she didn't like, but it was one of the same things that I've never liked - dark, loud, drunk, crowded... something along those lines.

And she said that friends were different.

"So tomorrow, you will wake up and maybe you won't think about me, but when you do think about me, you will say I'm your friend, right?"

"Right."

"It's not like that in Thailand. When you say friend, you mean someone very, very close to you. Someone who you think about every day."

Interesting.

"So that's why I don't just hang out with American people and I hang out with Thai people too, because they understand what friends are to me."

Peace out.

Disasster

So yesterday was Wednesday. I shouldn't have had much to do but I always find things for myself to do.

I woke up around 10 or whatever and went to Tarik's class again. Nate Brown is really cool and the class is actually willing to talk to each other, which is very rare and special. I was in a group with Tarik and a kid named David who is a senior in high school and Nate referred to us as "the smart kid group," which I thought was a little premature but nice anyway. We walked back with Hortense and I forget what we talked about but I remember having a good time.

I'm pretty sure I spent most of the next time working on the song for CAS 100H. People stopped in a few times I think but I made some good progress and I think I had a verse or two by the time I was supposed to go to lunch.

I went to lunch at Simmons and was supposed to eat with Lucy, really, but she had to be a little late, but that was okay because Hortense was coming too. I showed up a little early to get food so I would be done when they got there and I could just talk to them. Hortense was the first to come, and she brought a friend named Stephanie who lives in McElwain and did the same Shanghai program that Hortense did and is a math education major. It was nice to meet her, and I might talk to her about teacher stuff sometime. Lucy came when I was just about to go really, so I told her I'd like to see her again and we decided to try for Friday's lunch.

I left for a meeting with Ron in his office. When I showed up one of the officers was talking to him about club stuff, and the kid who played varsity soccer was also there and discussed whether or not he should take an actuarial job at Chubb. He had worked in their PMU over the summer but I don't think had quite as good of an experience as I did. Eventually he left and so Ron and I got to talking. I wanted to check if he had gotten the Cambodia material and so we went through his email and he found that he did actually have it. He gets a million emails all the time so I don't blame him for not getting to it. I just wanted to make sure. After that we talked about my summer, and my life plans, the things I wanted to do and could do, and the things he had done and some politics about the department and the colleges and the major. He's a really nice guy. I never knew he was almost a music major. He's so cool.

When I was done I went back to the dorm to work more on the song, and Lisa stopped by. I played it for her, but I went too fast or something and so she had to look at the lyrics. She liked the part about Facebook stalking. Other people came in for a while and hung out on the futon. I finished writing the last lines of the song while they were still there and I didn't even have the guitar, but they worked out fine when they tried them.

I had to kick them out because I needed to go to French. I went there, and we did our first real listening activity, I think, which was kind of hard. French is such a dumb language. And they talk so fast. The teacher always says "Isaac" wrong. I wonder if she's a native English speaker or not. Her accent is pretty much dead on though... pretty convincingly American... but sometimes she asks "Is that how you say it in English?"

I left and went straight to dinner 'cuz I wanted to play hockey. I told Kozi that he could come, and after some back and forth it worked out that I picked him up a little after 6 and went to the rink without going to Eddy's. His friend Azad came. He was built and Assyrian and a nice guy and a pretty good player, too. At first we just shot around a little bit and were afraid the rink was going to be too full, but then a big group left and it was just the three of us and three other dudes, so we played air-post against them. The clear winning strategy is to go right up on the red line and then shoot sideways... so yeah, we did well against them. Two of the guys on their side were really good and I should have gotten their info to play club with them, but didn't. Later, Timmy and Dyke and Kirky and other club guys showed up and played too. Dyke and Timmy were incredibly impressive, as always, and we played until it got dark.

I forget exactly what I did when I came back, but it was around 9:00PM or so. I think I went to Will and Drew's apt at some point to help Will with some math, and then went to visit Emily, and then returned later to the apartment to help with another small math question before going to fourth meal with the crew. Things were cut on the floor in the studio, too, that was before I went away to the apt. After fourth meal, people hung out in my room for a long time. Tarik stayed until 12:30 but then went to bed; Matt and Ariel stayed until sometime around 2; Emily stayed until sometime around 4 because we had a really nice conversation, and then I went to bed.

Peace out.

Personal Statement

I started trying to write my personal statement for the Fulbright scholarship tonight, specifically about how I'm disappointed with my academic success since I've left high school. I didn't even make it to the end of that paragraph and I was almost crying. I gave up for the night. I'll try again tomorrow hopefully.

Peace out.

It's Unforunate

thinking of you = toy

i feel that this coincidence has robbed us of a great acronym.

somewhat less direct/useful:

love you miss you = lymy (limey)

peace out

Ouch

In regards to keeping insurance losses low:

"...smaller businesses located in areas indicative of simpler lifestyles tended to perform much better than the rest of the country..."

Hooray, right?! It continues:

"...the blue collar impact can most likely be attributed to the fact that lower-educated workers employed outside of large metro areas have less access to the legal system and a lower sense of self-entitlement."

Ouch.

Peace out.

"Corporate Isn't for You, Is It?"

There was a "former intern panel" at ACE today, which included two interns and two full-time workers, and I'm not sure either of them were actually interns at ACE. I didn't get a whole lot out of it, but I guess I did have some questions I was curious about.

The first I asked was what ACE thought about working from home. I think I may be able to convince myself to work in the corporate world under some circumstances, and this one may play a part. Either that, or the building needs to be REALLY close to my house, or I need to be able to pick my own hours well under forty per week. She said they were largely cool with it, especially in the summer, but that you need to build up trust, and your managers will know if you're doing work or not.

The second - which I asked later - was about "vacation" time. I asked her if there was anything they could do for people who wanted to push all of their vacation time or roll it over, if that were possible, such that they could actually have a meaningful abroad experience rather than some vacation at a resort/beach, which I said I was not interested in at all. She said it might be possible to take three weeks of vacation all at once, or more when you've worked up to it, but that you really can't roll it over like that. Later a girl came to me and said that her dad works there and has like five vacation weeks per year, and that he's been considering doing something like that, but that it takes a lot of organization and planning for the seventy days when you'll be gone, and that discourages a lot of people from doing it.

Before I left the room even, her brother had come up to me and said, "So the corporate world really isn't for you, is it?"

I didn't know I was being that obvious.

Peace out.

Things I Did After Work Today

1. Got a haircut

2. Practiced Khmer

3. Bought apples for lunch

4. Worked on dreamcatcher

5. Cleared memory card

6. Charged camera battery

7. Got food ideas from Matt

8. Acquired bitTorrent stuff

9. Acquired The Room

10. Sent Ariel all pics/vids

11. Found Shawshank Redemption

12. Inflated tires

13. Read the 17 Project blog

14. Ironed my new shirt

God I'm impressed with myself. I also watched The Daily Show.

Peace out.

Recounting

I feel like, as a service to myself (more than anyone else reading this... as if anyone does anymore?) I should recount the awesomeness that was this weekend. Quickly.

Got out of work at 4:30 on Friday, met Caitlin's sister and her husband, who were extremely cool, and her friend Joan, who was also pretty damn cool.

Went to Fat Tuesday's on South Street with the actuaries from ACE and had an okay time, but was worried about getting back to my car the whole time.

Left at 7 and made it to Lauren W's graduation party by 7:40PM or so, which is like AMAZING time for going from Philly to GV (!)WITH(!) a stop at Wawa.

Hung out there for a while, talked to Steve and met Lauren's mom and talked to Pacificos.

Went to go play open hockey at Marple Sports Arena with Chas, which was a little costly and very crowded, but tons of fun! Ran into a fat dude with my neck and that sucked.

Came back and hung out with Jess and Sam while they watched a show about Whale Wars. Ate cookies with them and talked for a while. She gave me her wedding invitation, which was painted by Sam's mom. She asked me to pay for breakfast but I said no.

She made me breakfast the next morning, including chocolate milk. We had cereal and talked.

I worked on 100 Nights and essentially finished it, except I'm not sure how I feel about the bg harmonies in the bridge. Tone quality is pretty shaky.

Went to Five Guys Burger and Fries because I was feeling American after watching us let up an incredibly embarrassing goal to England in five minutes.

Went to Krissy M's graduation party, learned her name is Kristina, and gave her cookies which she didn't eat until the next day. A random family member called Tracy H my girlfriend, which totally caught us off guard, but we went with it.

Went to Sarah Jones's party and saw Gina for the first time in a long time, along with a number of other people. Briana was there and she looked really pretty in her white dress. I talked to Erik about Arabic stuff.

Went to Melissa DJ's party and talked to her brother for a while about his life, then went back to have a bonfire with everyone. Stayed until everyone was gone except for Melissa and Steve F, who was in the same "circuit" as me, it seems.

Tried to go back to Krissy's house at night, but miscommunication and an ever-wake mother stopped that from happening.

Wrote an email to Xiao and Christina K, and told Megan R we should hang out. I think I contacted someone else, too, but I forget who.

Woke up to play hockey at 8:45 and did so until about noon.

Went to graduation, Joe Biden was there, Ceci gave a speech, Tracy said she hadn't told her parents yet.

Went home to eat dinner with my family.

Went to Katie R's graduation barbeque, and ran into her grandmother, who is extremely nice and remembered me from when Katie put my music onto her iPod. Talked to Nick a good bit, and then Stasi about college and what to expect.

Came home.

Sang in the car a lot.

Peace out.

Piano Bracelet

I made the first one in South Africa because the stencil shop didn't have any clever stencils.

Then I realized it was wrong sometime when I was still on the ship.

So I made this one.

Peace out.

Work

So tomorrow I start my internship at ACE. Probably I shouldn't be typing this on the interwebs, but OH WELL. I'm not particularly excited about working there. I'm afraid that tomorrow the other interns are gonna show up and be like, "Man I'm so excited about finances and insurance!" and then they'll ask me if I'm excited and I'll just be like, "...yeah... man! ... insurance...! ...okay honestly I really don't want to be here."

But maybe it'll be okay. Maybe. Transportation is also an issue. There doesn't appear to be any great solution. Maybe I'll just go with Dad.

I told Mom that I want to be a teacher and she seemed almost personally offended by the idea. She made some dick comment about "If you ever want to live alone and not with a roommate you better be an actuary for a while." I think that was patently ridiculous considering the inordinately large amount of money I've saved in my life plus what I'll be making this summer, plus the fairly cheap rent for some place in the area. Plus I live cheap in general, plus I could work, and it's not like teachers live poor.

I wish she would be happy with me just being happy, instead of me being rich.

Peace out.

Happiness Video

The South African chick is hyper cute.

Peace out.

A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints

Hit play button hiding at the bottom. Right-click when it starts to play. Toggle full-screen. Fast-forward to 15 minutes.

Peace out.

The Worst Day

//

 

This is the last page of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, where Oskar fantasizes about life going backward on September 11th, when his father died in the twin towers.

 

"

 

I ripped the pages out of the book.

 

I reversed the order, so the last one was first, and the first was last.

 

When I flipped through them, it looked like the man was floating through the sky.

 

And if I'd had more pictures, he would've flown through a window, back into the building, and the smoke would've poured into the hole that the plane was about to come out of.

 

Dad would've left his messages backward, until the machine was empty, and the plane would've flown backward away from him, all the way to Boston.

 

He would have taken the elevator to the street and pressed the button for the top floor.

 

He would've walked backward to the subway, and the subway would've gone backward through the tunnel, back to our stop.

 

Dad would've gone backward through the turnstile, then swiped his Metrocard backward, then walked home backward as he read the New York Times from right to left.

 

He would've spit coffee into his mug, unbrushed his teeth, and put hair on his face with a razor.

 

He would've gotten back into bed, the alarm would've rung backward, he would've dreamt backward.

 

Then he would've gotten up again at the end of the night before the worst day.

 

He would've walked backward to my room, whistling "I Am the Walrus" backward.

 

He would've gotten into bed with me.

 

We would've looked at the stars on my ceiling, which would've pulled back their light from our eyes.

 

I'd have said "Nothing" backward.

 

He'd have said "Yeah, buddy?" backward.

 

I'd have said "Dad?" backward, which would have sounded the same as "Dad" forward.

 

He would have told me the story of the Sixth Borough, from the voice in the can at the end to the beginning, from "I love you" to "Once upon a time..."

 

We would have been safe.

 

"

 

Peace out.

I Remember

There’s a list in my Religion and Politics folder full of things that I remember.  I don’t really know why I started it; I guess I just felt like it one day after the twelfth day of school.  And now I don’t know what to do with it really, but I feel like I should do something.  I think I’d like to write about everything in some detail, but I think the list itself is also just sort of fun.  So I think, for now, I’m just going to write it:

 

- Stepping on a cactus
- Someone getting their nail cut by a crab
- Watching home videos of Ryan dropping his Slimer ice cream and losing his shoe on a Ferris wheel
- A video of Ryan pushing me into the snow and then kicking me
- Crying on my bed in Avalon because I felt bad that Dad never caught huge fish
- The ice cream man at the beach; “Fudgie Wudgie!” and “Ice cream, soda, rip off!”
- Choco Taco vs. Chipwich, and the time I dropped my Chipwich in the sand.
- The time I almost drowned from that huge wave, and the time I almost drowned by falling in the bay
- Always wanting a waverunner and never getting one
- The huge hornet thing that Jess and I swear was real underneath the deck at the old house
- Eating all of Ryan’s gummi worms with Kevin D while watching The Price is Right in kindergarten
- Flipping Kevin D over my head trying to be like Vega from Street Fighter
- Discovering This American Life on the first car ride back from going to Wildwood TIA
- Cocoa escaping from Bobby and I on the way down to Avalon
- The cigarette hole in my khaki shorts that we never figured out how it was made
- The three girls we met at the beach that asked to use our house but I never liked them
- Christian doing the left hand dance
- When the cats chewed on our fingers
- When Erin and I watched Law and Order:  SVU every night
- When I should have kissed Beth in Gina’s pool
- The first time I kissed Viv and she asked, “Can I help you?”
- The last time I tried to kiss Viv and she wouldn’t let me
- Watching Supersize Me and then giving up soda and McDonald’s
- The time I wrote like 4 songs in 8 weeks
- Kelly and I celebrating Fake Valentine’s Day, getting pizza and a blue jacket and flowers
- Wesley Willis and making a video for Rock & Roll McDonald’s
- Playing piano on my desk in class in ninth grade behind Ezra Han
- Practicing my drumline parts on my desk in class
- The night in Schlichter’s basement with Synthesis when they put on the hardhats
- Joekat being funny/awkward to try to get Mrs. Mattei to like him
- Ticking Danny Boselli until he wanted to kill us all
- That Kevin and I stopped being friends
- Letting down John Alfuth from Mexico by never sending him Dane Cook or Crank Yankers
- Hating Junior Prom more than anything in the world
- Me, Gina, Chloe and Molly were friends at Wildwood once
- When Kim and I talked every single night
- When I thought about holding people when I went to sleep
- The time Mr. Ricci yelled at Alex for almost no reason
- Chis Hopper showing me to fold strips of paper when I was bored at Hi-Q practice
- Corky hitting his head on the microphone on stage
- Talking to Dr. Arensberg while skipping French
- Outlining at the computer with textbook in lap
- The Infinity Q45 and the belt exploding with Jen Lue in the car
- Exploring the Church of Our Savior while singing Fallout Boy and Steve was filming
- Making mustard gas(?) and the girl getting drenched in the emergency shower while wearing a white t-shirt
- My graduation speech going over way better than I thought it would
- Eating at the diner in Allentown before DCI, and at the West Chester Diner twice
- Making brownies with Sonali
- Tarik coming to me at the piano to learn Mr. Brightside, and seeing him again during Ramadan
- Ariel telling the dolphin story at camp and then breaking my hand
- John Kuderka getting three strikes for nothing with Dr. C
- Make A Difference Day with Bobby
- Ashley vB, the Difference of Squares and seeing her on a plane
- Playing chess and losing to Lauren McLaughlin
- Teacher Gnorene, the club about not liking a girl, and having lunch at her house
- Lightning from Elam Love & Learn.  Sticking my tongue out at David
- Praying before snack with Mrs. Montella, and seeing her later in Genuardi’s
- Getting sick the night of the sixth grade lock-in
- CN Skate Palace roller hockey and Dave O
- Playing hockey in the street every day with Somers and Dhruv
- The time the neighborhoods kids tried to ditch Ryan and me but he found the Hewlitt kid
- Being left at CCD forever that one time
- Mr. Doyla “donating his liver” for the expansion
- John K being stabbed by Dennis W with a pencil
- Double D gymnastics
- Eating lunch without our thumbs in seventh grade
- Trying to make Bobby laugh so hard he spit out his drink
- Joining the soccer team for Dorney Park
- Timmy L getting shot right in the balls by Jim F
- MathCounts
- Getting a B in science AND social studies
- The stupid projects in Mr. Wright’s class that I absolutely hated
- My car crash
- Puking in Las Vegas and Ryan getting salmonella
- The Big Red Boat
- Jess getting chicken pox, Lyme Disease, and appendicitis
- When I cut my hair short and wore flannel jackets in fifth grade
- Forgetting the football on the last day of recess
- Jasmine, Somers, Olivia and Priya
- My first homerun in softball
- Shutting my finger in the window in 6th grade
- Club Rush with Jess and O’Neil

 

Actually, on this list I have on entry that reads “The first time I heard” and then there’s nothing.  I forget what I was writing, even though whatever it was, I was writing it today.

 

Peace out.