On the Pavement

Have you ever been dropped and hit your head on the pavement? It's an incredibly specific feeling, and completely impossible to describe except for "heavy" and that there's a smell associated with it. Or maybe a messed up method of smelling.

Every once in a while I experience this feeling, even though I haven't hit my head on pavement in probably like 15 years. Don't know why it is, but it's interesting, and weird.

//

I have an exam tomorrow which I am unsure how to study for. I am well on my way to not getting all As this semester.

Peace out.

The Gap

Peace out.

The Glass Door

On Saturday, September 12th, 2009, my THON organization (Springfield) went on a "camping" trip. Basically, a girl in Springfield (my friend Sam K) has a cabin in the woods of a mountain right around Harrisburg, and we figure that's as good a reason as any to spend time together. Some people actually did sleep outside in tents, but a lot of people wuss out and sleep inside. I had slept outside when we went there last year, and was adamant on not sleeping outside again this time around.

Well anyway. My car ride down was pretty cool. The shotgun seat was taken by a kid named Alan, who was really easy to talk to and I had a really good time getting to know him, and Tanvi T and Rachael G were in the backseat being goofy and funny as well. There was a sophomore I didn't know named Ajay sitting in the seat right behind me, which is a hard place to engage someone in conversation from, and he unfortunately didn't talk too much in either of the car rides. I forget what we listened to most of the way there. Right before we got to the cabin, we took a pit stop to get some food (just in case) and I picked up some Tastykake mini chocolate doughnuts, because they're awesome, and I did last year. Note that this would be my eventual downfall.

So we continued on to the camp, listening to my Summer 2009 CD including Wicked which pretty much everyone seemed to like, and showed up at a closed gate thinking we had gotten there first. Service wasn't good, so I had to use Ajay's phone (only one getting service) to call Sam and ask if she was there yet. Apparently she was, and she'd opened the gate, so we were at the wrong place, and we headed down the mountain, only to find out we were going the wrong direction, and headed back on up. Eventually we got there, and we were preeetty much the last ones to arrive. Oh well, no big.

So I got my stuff out and put it on a bed, and left the doughnuts on the table inside the cabin and took a couple for myself. Kids outside were working on getting the fire started, but didn't have any kindling or anything. I went into the house to look for something to start the fire, and decided a phone book from like 1996 would be a pretty good place to start. Sam said it was okay to use it, so I handed to the fire starters and told them to use that.

I think it was right after this that I decided I wanted more doughnuts. So I started heading toward the house again, doing a sort of half-jog which you might do to pick up a Frisbee which someone had thrown too far. It's a glass door at this part of the cabin, usually with a cinderblock in front of it because it's about two feet off the ground. I forget if the cinderblock was there or not at this time. Well anyway, once I got about two paces in front of the door, I sort of realized Oh, crap, there's a door there, huh? Yeah, there is. And it's probably closed, isn't it? Yup, it's closed. Darn. So I tried to slow down. I knew that I wouldn't be able to stop in time. I didn't think it was going to be any big deal, I'd just bounce of the door and hopefully no one would notice, whatever.

No, wrong. I hit the door and the thing shatters all over me. I'm just completely dumbfounded at what just happened. There's spiderwebbed door all over the place, half of the front pane is missing, and it was really loud, to top it all off. I don't remember this extremely clearly, but apparently the first thing that happened was Laura R turning to me and saying, "Did that seriously just happen?" To which I responded, "Uhh... yeah, that just happened." Then I looked at my hand and noticed it was bleeding. Like, pretty seriously. Like you could probably slip a dime into one of the gashes on my hand. Fortunately I was wearing a jacket and jeans, so my arms and knees were safe from anything getting to my skin there. People started to see the blood and I think picked up it might be pretty serious, so we started to consider taking me to the ER, or calling an ambulance. I thought I was doing pretty okay, so I walked over to where all the cars were (the other side of the cabin) to wait for someone to be able to take me. Someone brought me paper towels to help control the bleeding a little bit.

I wasn't feeling any pain at all, which means that I had gone into shock. Pretty neato! It remained pretty neato until my body was not in shock and decided that it was a bad idea for me to be able to stand up, and insisted on bringing me to the brink of passing out every time I attempted to do so. The first time that this happened, Katy P was walking me to the deck to make sure I could get to a seat safely, and I got really upset, which pretty much never happens with me. I said angrily to her, "Call. A f***ing. Ambulance." She told me that people were in the process. Sam was on the phone with her dad, and I couldn't hear anyone on the phone with an ambulance, so I was getting pretty frustrated, especially since I thought I just might die if I passed out. Or that it wasn't that I was about to pass out, but that I was about to die.

Eventually I realized that I would be pretty much okay as long as I could sit down, and it was decided that Katy would take me to the ER in Harrisburg rather than call an ambulance. Mike H decided to come along too. Katy is studying medicine/emergency care and Mike is a very well-trained lifeguard, knows CPR, might have been an EMT, stuff like that. Dana also came along to be official hand-holder, pretty much. Mike had been to the hospital before, but never from this direction, and had a general idea of where we were going, but we had to guess at a couple of points where we were supposed to go. We ended up getting there in about 40 minutes. The bleeding had mostly stopped by then.

Dana and I got out first at the ER while Katy and Mike found a place to park. I registered with them, told them what was wrong, and was asked to wait for triage. Most of the other people in the waiting room didn't have anything visibly wrong with them, which made me way more worried than if there had just been blood all over them or something like that. There were probably 4 kids in the room that night all wearing the same purple and yellow football jerseys. Eventually we were called into Triage, and we all went in together. One nurse asked me when I had my last tetanus shot, and I said I didn't know, and she laughed at me and said, "Yeah, probably today." I think it was after this that we took a new set of chairs, and Mike started to read a magazine for people over the age of 70 and actually got pretty interested in an article about some harmless old man who rode his bike all over the world. I tried to read through it too, but we got interrupted.

We watched TV while we waited, also. There was football on. Mike and Katy were interested in it, Dana and I not so much. We got called back to the last registration part pretty quickly, and the woman kept talking about how tired she was, which made the whole thing feel pretty sketch. She asked me "Can you sign here?" at one point on one of those credit-card swiping things, which you can't even sign with your good hand when it's function. I laughed and was like, "No. I can't sign." So I picked up the stylus with my left hand and put a happy face on the signature line. The receipt printed with the happy face as my signature. We got called back to the room pretty quickly.

The woman there said that only two people could come with me. We were agonizing over the decision for a little bit, but eventually she said, "Oh, hell, just everyone come." So we celebrated to ourselves and all went back. First she had me try to clean the wounds myself, but then put my hand in a solution that clears out dried blood from the skin. At one point somebody referred to us as "friends," and we talked about that later, and how all the weird things we'd been through tonight alone definitely made us friends. That felt nice.

Eventually an attending physician came and said that things really didn't look too bad, and a nurse came after a little bit and took me back to get X-Rays so we could make sure no glass was inside my hand. That didn't take long at all, and soon after I came back to the room where my three friends were waiting, the physician came again and said that the x-rays showed no glass. She said she would just need to wrap my hand, and I'd pretty much be good to go.

Before she did, I asked her if the one gash on my hand would need stitches, and she said no. There was a pretty big flap of skin hanging from it though, which was clearly not doing anything productive, and she was fiddling with it. I asked her if she needed to get rid of it, and she said, "Yes, can I?" So I said yes, because I'm totally the kind that picks at my scabs. She slowly tore it off, and it was WAY more painful than I had anticipated. Like, holy crap. Farewell, skin! It was the only pain I experienced the whole night, and the bleeding resumed in that spot for a while afterward. She wrapped up my hand, I got a few band-aids from the nurse, and we headed out to wait to be dismissed. The nurse that had me try to sign the credit card thing came out a few minutes later and told us we were free to go, so we left.

I apologized a lot to Mike and Katy and Dana for screwing up their camping night. We did go to Sheetz on the way back, however, and ended up taking WAY longer than we anticipated there and getting a lot more food than we had thought. But even that was nice, actually, and we got to brag about going to Sheetz. They all said they didn't mind though and that they actually had a good time anyway, and we got back to the camp by 11, so they still had a good amount of night left to enjoy with everyone.

Everyone asked me how I was doing when they saw me. Some people who hadn't shown up yet asked me what the hell happened. I felt a little dumb saying the story, but it's no big deal. I told everyone I was doing fine. I gave my remaining mozzarella sticks from Sheetz to Gabby and one other person, who were the first to come to the car when we returned. Someone made me take a picture prominently displaying my wrapped up hand, which I think is now on Facebook. People laughed at all my dirty jokes we told around the fire later and Meg asked me to sit on her lap, I think. I wondered if people were just being nice to me because I was an incurable dumbass. Hannah told a really good dirty joke involving OB/GYNs and numbing things, but it only works in real life.

Peace out.

Car Crash

It was Sunday, December 21st, 2008, the Sunday just before Christmas. I was home for Christmas break, save for the time that I would spend visiting my Uncle David and Aunt Wendy in Key West. I hadn't seen Bobby D, Stefan S, or Rory H for a while, and somehow one of them told me that all three of them would be at Rory's house that night, so I decided to go. My mom said that it might be icy so I should take her car, so I did.

We hung out, we played pool, some video games, I took pictures of M&Ms, we played fooseball, talked... not really sure what else we did. At one point I left to visit a couple other people, who were partaking in drug use, though (as always) I did not partake.

Anyway, I left sometime shortly after 11pm. Rory lives in a neighborhood right off of Mattson Road. In the section where he lives there are a lot of neighborhoods perpendicular to the road, often at crossroads, and they always have stop signs and Mattson doesn't. So I was driving down that road, past some neighborhoods, keep going, past some neighborhoods, keep going...

I remember there was CD on at the time and I was flipping through it with the control on the steering wheel. I saw a crossroad coming up and thought that I didn't have a stop sign. I was going about 40MPH, maybe, on a 35MPH road.

I did have a stop sign. I recognized it when I was maybe 10 yards in front of it. It was definitely too late to stop in time. The car was too big and clunky, and if I tried to stop, I would have just been sitting in the middle of the intersection. I didn't have much time to consider what to do, and it's a pretty lonely road, so I thought it was best to just spend as little time in the intersection as possible and if I run a stop sign, fine, I run a stop sign, at least I'm safe.

No.

I was not safe.

As soon as I made the decision, I saw headlights approaching from the driver's side. God damnit. I didn't panic, it's not like I made a decision not to panic, it's just that you don't panic in situations like that instinctively. I remember thinking very quickly that I was probably going to die, and regretting being such a terrible driver, and feeling very scared because I was pretty sure I was going to die. Like, quite sure.

I think I should emphasize that I was really very sure that I was going to die.

Not knowing what else to do, I sped up, hoping to get out of the way. At the very last second, the other driver swerved to the right and slammed his brakes on, too, to try to avoid hitting me, although there wasn't much he could do. His car slammed into the read driver's side door of my mom's car. It was incredibly loud, and the airbag went off, and it felt like a shotgun went off in my ear while I was getting tackled by an NFL linebacker at the same instant. The car did a 180, or even more, and ended up on the other side of the intersection, facing back on the right side of the road toward where I had just come from. I took it forward for just a moment to try to let other people on the road pass.

The important thing that I realized very quickly was that I had survived. Hooray! Life!

I turned the car off. I got out and apologized to the other driver. There was a ringing in my ear that didn't subside for hours, I went to sleep with it that night, the window was smashed and the car was cold as I waited for my dad and the police, and I apologized to the other driver. My mom told me more about her miscarriages that night that I had known before. The police officer asked me if I was drunk or if I was high, she said my eyes were bloodshot, but no, I'd ever drank or smoked in my life and I guess she believed me because she didn't even Breathalyze me.

The other kid's car was totaled. He knew some kids in Garnet Valley, and I think he said that he was just getting back from a concert that night, or something along those lines. He didn't show up at the court date so I never even got a ticket for running the sign.

The point is, I'm alive.

Peace out.

Note

The sky takes on every color except for green, but we still say "The sky is blue."

Peace out.

An Aggressive Gambler

You start out with $100 in your pocket, and you start betting on coin tosses of a fair coin. You bet heads every time, so you win $1 if it comes up heads and lose $1 if it comes up tails. You tell yourself that you will stop the first time that either (a) you have $0 remaining, or (b) you have $300 total.

What's the probability that you end up with $300?

I'll do something awesome for anyone that answers this with full solution.

Peace out.

My Primary Skills

1. Curiosity

1a. Test-taking

2. Keeping in touch

Peace out.

Here's My Irrationale

The guy that runs the club roller hockey teams at PSU is a guy that we lovingly call Dyke. It's part of his last name. His first name is actually Brian or Bryan. But anyway, he's quite a big guy - probably 6'3" or so - and he has a little bit of paunch going on, short hair, often wears glasses. He's a really funny guy, although his humor is a little bit mean and you have to have thick skin if you want to hang around him, even if you're just playing hockey together. I should also note that he's extremely good at hockey. I think he's easily the trickiest player/most finessed player I've ever played against personally.

Well anyway. We were all playing together a week or two ago, maybe, at the rink at the Y. We had a goalie and 8 skaters, so we were pretty much good to go, and then a kid came and started messing around at the rink. No big deal, people don't mind. After a while he shot his puck out, and when he was coming back in, he called to Dyke and said, "Hey, can I play with you guys?"

Dyke put on a sort of fake surprise face and said, "What's your name?" (The two didn't know each other)

The kid said his name, and Dyke immediately screamed at him, "HELL NO."

The kid's face was totally shocked.

"No I'm just kidding, of course you can play with us." And he did.

//

To some extent I've been waiting to use that line. I would kind of like for someone to come to me when I'm playing piano and ask me to play quieter or something so I could use it then. An Asian girl came to Dana&Louise's room the other night and asked us to be quiet and I could have done it then. A girl in my Math 484 class turned to me and said "Can I ask a question?" and that would have been a perfect time, if we weren't in the 2nd row of seats in the middle of a lecture.

//

My thumbs have been messed up recently. My left thumb got messed up on (I think) the first Tuesday that I was here. I was playing hockey against Chas - I think playing defense against him - and I took a fall and hit my thumb when I got to the ground. My knee was also a little messed up but nothing bad, even though I had no pads on. Anyway, my glove should have been guarding my thumb, but it's hurt pretty bad ever since. For a while I couldn't turn the lock on my door with my left hand because the thumb hurt too bad, and I couldn't get a strong enough grip on my markers to remove the cap with my left hand. I think it's pretty much better now though.

The right one just got messed up recently because I was biting the nail and definitely took a little bit too much off. I think I tore some of the skin open at the front of the base of my nail, and maybe from playing piano or hockey or something, I dried it out some more and I could see it turning very red the past couple days. I think it's getting better now though. I had to put a band-aid on it for a while there though.

//

I've been drawing a lot recently. I bought a sketchbook like right before I came to college (it's 100% recycled and 100% recyclable!). I honestly didn't think that I would use it a whole lot. I thought it would be one of those things that I always wanted to do but never got around to doing. That was not the case, as it turned out. In the first weekend alone I filled like seven pages with sketches or something. I think I'm up to something about 40 right now.

I'm not very good at drawing, but the ideas behind them are okay enough that it doesn't really matter. Sometimes people laugh at them when they see them, which is a good sign.

Sometimes I put them up on my whiteboard, or sometimes I put things that I put on my whiteboard into my sketchbook.

I remember there was a speech a while ago when Obama was talking about hope, and how we need it, and that if we didn't have hope we would have looked to the moon and thought, "Nope, too high. Can't go there." I really liked that line, in particular, out of everything he's ever said. I was walking to my friend Malinda's room the other day and there was a whiteboard that was undecorated, and that image was running through my head, so I just stopped and worked on the whiteboard that was there. I drew a crescent moon in the top right corner, then a line at the bottom with some lines for the grass, and a larger man and a smaller man with their heads tilted up toward the moon, and the older man says, "Nope, too high. Can't go there."

I liked how it ended up looking a lot, so when I got back to my room I put it on my board, but this time I filled the sky with stars as well, and I used a quick move of the marker on the whiteboard to make a shooting-star effect once. And this time it wasn't the man speaking to the child, specifically, the words were just sort of on the whiteboard to get the idea across more generally. I liked the way it turned out, again.

I kind of wish I had a picture of it.

Cavon, a guy across the hall, said that he really liked that one in particular. It made me like him a lot, because I think most people just like the funny ones I put up, but I think this one was better than the rest, as well.

// EDIT //

Here are some pictures of the board and the sketchbook for you. Click for full-size.

Peace out.

The World Will Thank Me

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This is my attempt to close all unclosed "sets" of parenthesis in writing up until this point.

You're welcome, planet Earth.

Peace out.

John Mayor

How many ways can n objects be split among m kids, with the rule that each kid gets an integer amount of candy, x, where x > 0?

This many ways:

Oh damn.

It turns out that you could also just do (m + n -1) Choose (m-1).

Heh.

Christ on toast do I love math.

And yes I did put off all my other homework to spend 3 hours or more solving this problem because I like thinking about it, and also because my teacher will give me $1 if I get it right.

Peace out!

I'm Bad at Parties

Last night there was a Springfield social (Springfield is the organization I'm a part of that raises money for Penn State's THON charity) at the apartment of Gabby, our social chairwoman. I thought it would be a good way to meet some of the new people joining Springfield and see if there were any particularly cool newbies, but I knew there would be dancing and drinking and loud music and stuff, so I figured I'd try to go early before any of that started.

It was supposed to start at 11pm, and I showed up at about 10:40pm, which I figured was safely before any real partying would begin. However, as soon as I got to the third floor of the building (where her apartment was), I could hear the party coming from all the way down the hall and around the corner. I thought it was another party at first, but no, it was the party I was headed for. There was loud music, people were drinking, there was alcohol set up outside for people to take, and there was a game of beer pong happening. Some people started dancing a little bit later.

I said hello to maybe two or three people, including one of the RAs in Simmons, who had to leave early because she didn't want to be seen drinking/partying in front of her residents. Meg saw that I was just sitting/standing around and not really digging it, and made a sad a face at me. As Dana put it a long time ago, "Meg has this disease where she has to make sure everyone around her is happy." It's not a bad disease to have, but it sucks when you're in a situation like "At a party with Jeff," where it turns out I can't be happy. I left after maybe 15 minutes. Most of those 15 minutes, I had this image in my head.

I was sort of frustrated with myself when I left. I just sort of realized that back in high school, I could totally work the social scene. Whatever kind of party kids in high school were having (at least ones I was invited to), I could find a way to make myself happy and I think even help other people have a good time, too. I honestly don't think that's happened once at a party at college. I just thought through all the parties I can remember, and I still believe that it's accurate. I've never enjoyed a party at college, ever.

That sort of sucks.

I wish I liked the things that people did here. I want to like it and I want to enjoy being around people while it's happening. But I just don't. I just want to leave and play piano or draw or drive or listen to NPR.

Peace out.

Another Great WHYY Quote

"Nazis-in-hiding must be high-fiving each other because genocide is being rebranded as a benefits program."

Robin Young on Here and Now commenting on the current health care coverage.

Peace out.

This Problem Will Keep You Awake at Night

Say there are 5 guys at a party and they're all wearing silly hats. They decide to trade hats, and so they all throw their silly hats into a pile in the middle of the room. Then they close their eyes and randomly all grab a silly hat from the pile at the same time and put it on. How many ways can these 5 guys pick hats such that none of the 5 guys have picked their own hat?

How about for 10 guys?

How about for n guys?

The best part about this is that there's pretty much no way to Google the answer, or even to Alpha the answer, or even Maple the answer. Doesn't it feel a little weird to be asked a question like this where you can't just say "I don't know, but Google does?"

Peace out.

[[ It took me about two hours to figure this problem out, just sitting and thinking. Major props to you if you figure it out faster than that - you should consider a math major ]]

GED

I took my second actuarial exam (financial mathematics) on August 13th of this year at the Curtis Center in Philadelphia. Believe it or not, I actually didn't use my own Pilot G-2 .5mm mechanical pencils this time because I was afraid of them saying I was cheating. I was also forced to leave my cold sore medicine (for what, I believe, was not even a cold sore) outside, and had to leave my test for a minute to put some on with about an hour left.

Well anyway, after I left, I had a bit of trouble finding the bathroom, and decided to just forget about it for a while, and headed for the elevator back down to the first floor. There was a man in the elevator with me, who I believe was taller than me, with a little bit of paunch, older, whiter hair and balding. He saw that I was holding something like a study manual in my hand (the Actex manual that I had been using) and asked me if I had just taken a test. I said yes, and he asked me if I passed. I told him yes, and then I asked him if he had taken one too, and he said yes, he took the test for the GED, and he had passed. He seemed very, very content to have passed. He even gave me a high-five when we stepped out of the elevator and wished me the best of luck with everything. It made me extremely happy to see how happy he was that he'd passed his test.

Peace out.

Molly Bloom

I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

//

I would kill for a book filled with something like this. Maybe someday I'll just read the last chapter. And that one other chapter that's supposed to be really good...

Peace out.

Text Messages

I always feel a little bit sad when I delete the inbox on my phone because it's full. I feel like I'm losing something.

//

I hate that I had to spend all my summers in my childhood at the beach away from all of my friends. I almost feel some resentment about it. I remember that my dad would stay at home all week and only come down to see us on the weekends, so he was alone all week from Sunday night until Friday night. I wonder if he feels resentment about that. I think that would probably be even worse.

Peace out.

Pope-ourri

[This entry has nothing to do with the pope]

I think it's silly when people think I'm attractive/cute/hot/etc. Not because I'm flattered by it and don't know how to handle it [though that is true when it happens], but because I seriously think they're wrong. I always thought that I was just-average looking and not a bit above. And still do, pretty much. Also, I'm always afraid that I'm gaining weight.

When I was in 8th grade I had to write a paper in response to talk radio or talk TV for Dr. Castefaro's Social Studies class. He specifically made me respond to Rush Limbaugh, although I think I encouraged him in that selection a bit. I remember listening to the show and taping it upstairs on the floor of my parents bedroom with our crappy old radio/tape player and hate-hate-hating Rush Limbaugh when I was finished with it. He was talking about Iraq and Saddam Hussein and probably WMDs at that point. I would love to see that paper, but I can't find it at the moment. More importantly, I would love to see Dr. Castefaro again, or have him be my teacher again. I can and probably should make the first one happen, though I don't know if I can swing the second.

I've been sleeping way more than usual lately and it makes me feel unproductive, but I just don't know what else to do after 11pm when I have to be in my house and can't make noise.

I'm really lucky that all my passions/desires are within the bounds of social acceptability. Nobody every calls me a freak or criminal because I play piano for hours every day or basically drool at any mention of number theory, roller hockey, or Krispy Kreme doughnuts. But some people aren't so lucky and they just so happen to be into disabled people or crossdressing or even just people of the same sex, and they have to spend their whole damn life feeling like an outcast because of it. It's not like they choose these things! I wish society didn't judge things like that.

I think there exists at least one person who does know or to whom I could comfortably tell every "secret" that I have. I think that's a good place to be. Although I wish I didn't have to have secrets.

I've worked on keeping my cool over the past while, and I think I've done a good job of it. I never really get angry, I'm becoming much more patient, and I never lose my temper. I typically feel good about all of that, but sometimes I wonder if it's really for the better. Maybe people should get pissed off.

The kid in Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close always said that he pet his cat "to show him that he loved him." I used to think of it like that with my cats, too, although I hadn't for a while. I'm starting to again after reading said book.

My senior year of high school, I would always tell people: Every day you see me, I'm probably having the best day of my life. I don't know if that's true anymore and it makes me uncomfortable. I know that there's tons of potential for me to go back to a monotone increasing amount of awesomeness in my days, but I worry that somehow it just won't happen.

I'm slow to take up new technology. I never got an iPod, I never use .mp3 players, I never got a "smart phone," I never update my versions of AIM or Adobe, I hate finding my homework assignments online.

I don't know where I stand on the Will-You-Ever-Have-Kids issue currently. I still think that I would hate the first like 13 years or so of raising each kid, but after that I'd probably like them. Like, when they have their own personality and independent thoughts and actions and interests in stuff. It would be awesome to raise some kickass kids and feel like an awesome father and die proud of my incredible children. But what if I don't like the things I make? Scary.

But then again, I always regret the things I don't do more than the things I do.

When I found out somebody is really religious, I have a much harder time developing a friendship/good relationship with that person. There are exceptions of course - Rachel M is very religious and also a great friend of mine. But I still have that prejudice. It's definitely because of The End of Faith. I think I have been getting better about it recently - separating the religion from the rest of the person.

My brother mentioned my blog [HATE THAT WORD] in front of my parents the other day and I wanted to strangle him. Not to death, just to make it hurt. I don't want my parents to read this. I hate the fact that they know it exists. [Hey Mom and Dad! Hint: Never mention this ever]

The other day in Genuardi's, the cashier commented on my shirt. It was the middle-aged blonde woman, and I was wearing my "Wednesday is hump day" shirt, featuring a camel. She said it was very true. I don't think she realized the innuendo, but maybe she did. Viv's mom also commented on my "Friends don't let friends vote Republican" shirt tonight when I went to visit her.

I had a very exciting week, although it's to remember everything. Sunday I saw Keith's band called Hessian at Mojo 13, Monday I watched Dr. Strangelove with Chloe, Tuesday Chloe/Matt/I went to Dorney Park, Wednesday I walked w/ Kristin and saw Christie H, Thursday I looked for ladders, ran through corn, and saw DCI w/ Chloe, Friday I went to First Friday. Saturday I studied. Sunday I saw Viv.

I have still never taken a drink of alcohol or ingested any drug that was illegal for me to take. I don't think I want to - especially not after this summer. I might be interested in going to a frat party at some point just to see what it's like, but I imagine that I'll be extremely uncomfortable, and probably want to leave after a few minutes. On a mostly unrelated note, apparently plastic bags really aren't too terrible for the environment (but I still avoid them anyway). Furthermore, a solar tower is in operation in Lancaster, PA. Go sun!

I don't know what I want to do with my upcoming summer. Options include (a) Insurance internship, (b) NSA internship, (c) Academic program TA or RA, (d) Non-academic program TA or RA, (e) Drum corps, (f) Become a long-haul trucker.

I didn't even start texting until Gina basically made me, just by virtue of her texting so frequently. I remember I got a new phone right before I went to Brown and traded it in the first week I was there because it's T9 Word didn't learn new words. The battery also died within like 6 hours every time.

Loving people is definitely the best part of my life. It makes me happier than anything else I can think of - to know that there exist people who I think are that awesome. The only thing that comes close is writing a song that I know kicks ass. But nothing else.

There are a lot of layers between people now. There was a picture recently where five people in my family were sitting on the couch in front of the TV, and each person had a laptop in front of them. I count that as six layers inbetween the people and a conversation. Add in cell phones for an additional five (although they're not in constant use). Even right now, my brother and I are sitting across from each other at the same table, but we're both on our laptops, not talking, hardly even communicating at all. I wonder what would happen if I closed my laptop and just sat here.

I should write my Nana a letter. Soon. I was supposed to do it when she sent me money on my birthday last year - she hardly even has any money to send me - but it just kept getting pushed off. Partly because I don't really know what to say. But that shouldn't matter to me, dammit, she wouldn't care what the hell was in there, really, just that I sent something to her at all. I hate that I haven't done this yet.

Graveyards are like libaries, full of people and all their stories, but you can't check them out anymore. Imagine all the secrets that are taken to the grave. God damn. I wish that I were one of those people that could start a conversation with anyone with ease. I'd love to get to know/love more people. Everyone if I could. But I never feel like people want to be bothered, and I also fear that I have an angry default face that would make people not want to talk to me. Maybe I just use that as an excuse and I'm afraid they wouldn't like me. Not sure.

One of my friends attempted suicide recently. I couldn't understand it. They were smart, had loving family, a great home, a good school, good grades, a significant other, athletics, looks. They looked perfect on paper. I don't know what drove them to try it exactly, I don't think I could every really understand, but it's scary and makes me feel like no one is safe.

I worry a lot recently about my friends staying safe. I wish I could make sure everyone were safe all the time somehow.

Leroy showed me the paragraph in The Catcher in the Rye where Holden actually uses that exact phrase. I found it once, looking through a copy of the book in Trish's room at Brown. I never liked the book, but I really like that paragraph, and I relate to Holden in that sense.

I'm taking my actuary exam on Thursday morning at 8am. I'm pretty sure I'm already overprepared for it, which is a nice sentiment to have.

We were running low on all my favorite awful foods recently, but we got some Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Tastykake doughnuts now, so I'm set for a while. Except for I'm still afraid I'll get fat. Eh. I'm going to go have some cereal right now.

Peace out!

Streetcorner

I went to Philly to see First Friday. The whole group ended up being myself, Chloe, Vickie, Emily, Jaffe, and Scott, but at the beginning it was just myself, Chloe, and Vickie. A little after the three of us met, we decided to walk to a Wawa nearby to get some food. At one of the street crossings on the way, while we were waiting for the pedestrian light to turn, a man approached us from behind and said to me, "Hey-man-can-I-see-your-penis-I-mean, can I borrow a cigarette?"

It was really strange and I don't think I said anything at all in response. I put my hands over my pockets so he couldn't reach for anything from them, just in case. He was maybe in his thirties, with longish wavyish brownish hair, wearing a tan coat, and holding a paper cup is his hand. Then he asked Chloe if he could borrow $2 so he could get to Lancaster. Then he asked Vickie if she danced, specifically if it was salsa dance. I should point out that Vickie is part Puerto Rican and pretty dark-skinned. She called him racist as we were walking away, and I think some f-words were exchanged.

All in all, it was an incredibly weird experience. I might try that line as a pickup/introduction though.

Peace out.

100 points if you can decipher the lyrics

What I've been able to get so far, some of which I'm not sure about:

You washed your feet in the ocean and they became clean

The bits of sand on my hands, now watch it all leave [?]

The wrecking ball before you kissed me on the mouth

We rolled around in the sand, you better [ ?? ]

We lost a lot in the hurricane [?], till everything came back again

Floating in, floating in, floating in, floating in

Thanks if you are able to help?

Peace out!

Submarines

I wonder how many foreign submarines there are trolling along America's coasts. I'd like to see a map of it, I think it'd be pretty interesting.

Peace out.