About my About Me
2007-04-30 02:54:00
I’ve changed. I’m not the person I’ve described. That person never really existed. Sure, the demographics are the same. The census bureau would never notice the difference. But a reader might. When I first put fingers to keys, I had in mind a very different message and a very different voice. I was terribly angry at the anger in the world, and I was determined to create the outlet I could not find. But the sword became the shovel; I’m proud of my work, but by the results you could never guess the intentions. And so I’ll finally abandon the description I abandoned long ago. Nevertheless, as it has been with this blog since its inception, it seems fitting that it should be remembered at least, even if no longer used. For memory’s sake, I began this way:There is nothing interesting about my life, except perhaps my total lack of authority to speak meaningfully on any subject whatsoever. I have lived the same life of comfort that virtually all middle-class American tw
Elsewhere Barred
2007-04-29 22:21:00
Read more: Elsewhere
Introduction, Summary, and Update
2007-04-28 15:44:00
Hello, squirrels? Meet ‘neighbor who should take out his trash.’ ‘Neighbor who should take out his trash,’ meet s… What’s that? Oh! You’ve already met? Ah, I remember, it at was the "I’m a Lazy Ass Who Leaves Garbage on the Apartment Doorstep for Days at a Time Instead of Taking it to the Dumpster" party that was thrown here last week. Yeah, that was a wild one. Lasted for days; the trash was everywhere. Well no, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one the week before...Yeah, that's a good point; I do think that dumpster is almost forty steps away. You’ve got me there. Anyways, since you two are already acquainted, why don’t you figure it the fuck out already!---Vodka Martini - $7Shrimp Cocktail - $7Beef Capriccio - $6Another Vodka Martini - $7Black Bean Soup - $5A third Vodka Martini that you leave full on the table because you vaguely remember needing to drive later - $7Beef Tenderloin with a side of King Crab Legs (What? Just put them on the side!) - $35N.
Read more: Introduction
, Summary
, Update
I’m not a supermodel, but I play one online.
2007-04-26 20:24:00
I’m confused. I can’t quite seem to get a handle on the online
population. The stories don’t add up. We’re either the world’s best, brightest, and most beautiful, or we’re somewhere below banana slugs on the sociological food chain. It depends on who you ask. For instance, you could ask a certain acquaintance of mine. Or, you could not. You could just sit there and hope that for once she will talk quietly enough that her conversations can’t be heard from across the room. Either way, you’re probably going to hear what she thinks about online people at least once a week. Lemme es'plain. This girl can be kindly described as hideous. She’s also not particularly intelligent, wealthy, or friendly. Aside from her complete lack of volume control, she suffers from a total absence of anything resembling manners or etiquette. Surprisingly, she hasn’t been having very much luck with the online dating scene. She’s terribly embarrassed about it. Not about her la
Read more: supermodel
The last, last day of school
2007-04-26 05:21:00
Tomorrow I will get up and go to school for the last time. After tomorrow there will be finals, a bar exam, and probably lectures of one sort or another scattered throughout the balance of my life. But it won’t be school; at least, not the way it has been. The nineteenth grade will be over. There will be no twentieth. From here on, any education I receive will be in furtherance of my career, and not a prelude to it. School’s out. Forever. Cheers!Tags: Law School Graduation Classes Career
Windigo
2007-04-26 01:12:00
What a shame that only by breaking my body can I fix my mind.Tags: Body Break Mind
It’s my party.
2007-04-24 21:15:00
After a week of analysis, the talking heads have reached a consensus; the shootings at Virginia Tech were definitely, definitely the fault of the other political party and its policies. Definitely. But then again, that's what they always do, and that's what we pay them for. Because of them, we can rest easy at night, knowing that nothing horrible would ever happen if only more people agreed with us. Babies should sleep so well. Yet why should we have to depend on party hacks for our good night’s rest? The system obviously works, and the parts are obviously interchangeable. Why then, should we be required to outsource our conscience cleaning? We don’t have to. Now, using my soon-to-be-never patented system, you can become the pundit of your very own brand new political party!* In just three easy steps, you get it all! And better yet, it’s absolutely free!** Operators are standing by. Step 1: Identify the people at fault for the world’s problems. It's important th
Seraph
2007-04-24 01:47:00
This message may never reach its target. In case does; you’re extraordinary. I usually fail to realize it. Sometimes I just take it for granted. Either way, I’m a fool. Evening always tells of happiness without you. Morning always tells otherwise. I never learn the lesson, but you never make me pay for the class. Instead you go on quietly picking up the pieces of my mistakes. A strong smile always greets a weak apology. You're not perfect, but your better at what I wish I were better at. And you pretend that you’re not. Thank you.
Linger
2007-04-23 13:23:00
Toasted
2007-04-21 17:11:00
I am the best man in my best friend’s upcoming wedding. For the most part, I don’t mind. I’d say that I’m honored, and I guess I am, but that seems like such a hefty word for what is about as casual a relationship as two people can have. To say that he and I skip the formalities would be to call the Atlantic slightly damp. “I don’t mind” is a phrase vastly more appropriate to the friendship. Also, I say, “for the most part” because, as I understand it, being the best man obligates me to give some sort of toast. I down right enjoyed the bachelor’s party (enter previously unmentioned, recent trip to Vegas, stage left—details to follow). I’m sure the wedding will be a blast as well; done properly, they always are. But the toast? On the surface, it seems easy. I’m very close to my friend, and I very much like his bride to be. My problem is the language barrier. My friend and I communicate through insults. Our time is spent demeaning public figures, po
Fridaww the hell with it.
2007-04-20 20:41:00
Fridays are useless. No one gets any work done on a Friday. The only reason they aren’t already part of the weekend is because then Thursdays would be just as bad. “Casual” Fridays are a misnomer; they should be called “We’ve stopped pretending” Fridays. Let’s face it, if you’ve got any work to be done, and only have one day to buckle down and do it, you better make damn sure that day isn’t a Friday. Otherwise, game over. Pack you’re things and head home. I’m sitting here, more behind than ever. Deadlines are approaching. I am, apparently, unconcerned. My unproductive weekend was followed by a near-comatose week, and now it’s Friday. Is anyone noticing a trend? But it’s not for lack of trying; I’ve got all the materials I need, a nice little work space, a healthy abundant supply of caffeine, and a laptop that’s just begging to get some serious work done. Naturally, I’m staring out the window. The view isn’t even interesting. I’m watchi
I see you.
2007-04-19 18:54:00
This morning I did some blog surfing. I was told my IP address three times. My operating system and web browser were identified to me, and I was informed of my location. It turns out, I already knew IP address. I knew the software I was using, and I was pretty sure about my location. Although, two of these blogs did get it wrong; imagine my panic at being informed that I was actually some twenty miles from where I thought I was! Anyways, these blogs were telling me so much about myself that I felt it would be rude not to respond. So here goes. I get it. You’ve got a stat counter. You can see my IP address; you can see my software choices, and my location. This isn’t really shocking news, and neither is it very interesting, the occasional location crisis notwithstanding. A number of years ago, I admit, this would have come as something of a jolt. Not today. At this point, pretty much anyone who is computer literate enough to be looking through random personal blogs kn
Tired
2007-04-19 05:20:00
Why is it that on the days we have so much to talk about we have so little to say?
Counter
2007-04-17 23:51:00
I was productive last weekend. Really productive. I packed boxes, reserved a moving truck, made and sent graduation announcements desperate pleas for cash; in fact, I crossed off almost all of the items on my To-Do list. It was easy too, because they were all grouped together, right there at the very bottom. The top of the list is where the scary things dwell. They’re things that are important or that are due very soon; they’re definitely not the sort of things you want to rush into. I give them a respectfully wide berth. I’m used to it. Growing up, my room was never cleaner than when I had a test to study for or homework due the next day. When my car’s transmission began generating forlorn thuds every time I tried to shift gears, I changed the oil. Somehow doing the wrong thing has always seemed like a better use of my time than doing nothing at all. By now I suppose it’s obvious where this story ends. This past weekend there was only one thing I HAD to get done.
Read more: Counter
Sorrow
2007-04-16 23:32:00
May those angels that are able take heed; you’re needed elsewhere. Godspeed, Virginia Tech. You’re in my prayers.
Read more: Sorrow
Somewhere Else Entirely
2007-04-16 15:23:00
Read more: Somewhere
Are we there yet?
2007-04-15 23:53:00
A friend of mine is running in the Boston Marathon tomorrow. Or at least she plans on running. From what I hear about the weather in New England, she may wind up swimming it instead. For her sake, and that of her peers, I hope it’s not canceled or made miserable by the rain. Although hell, for all I know, rain my help.I don’t understand marathons. As much as I get into exercise and fitness, marathons still seem so far beyond me as to be another beast altogether. Running is great, but running for hours on end? Even if I had the stamina, I’d be bored to tears before the end of the race. I suppose iPods and the like help, but you can only dress up ‘one foot in front of the other’ so many ways. I can’t even comprehend ultra-marathons. Nevertheless, it’s not the length that really baffles me; it’s the origin. From Wikipedia (so you know it has to be true):The name, "marathon", comes from the legend of Pheidippides, a Greek soldier, who was sent from the town of Ma
One Year
2007-03-02 17:08:00
I’m cheating. During my absence, this blog passed its one year anniversary. As even its writer was no where to be found, I’m not sure whether this truly counts as an anniversary. But I’ll work with what I’ve got. I’m adding the entry back now only to mark the occasion, and to fill the lone gap in my archives. Happy anniversary indeed. Still, it was a good year. Hopefully the next will be better, or at least not much worse. This blog is nothing like what I had originally intended it to be, but that’s alright. I will need to change the “about me” language though, as right not its rant seems decidedly out of place. Details, details.In the year ahead, life will be decidedly different. For the first time in my life, I will not be a student. That should be interesting. I hope anyone who ventures back to find this sticks around to find out what the new year brings.Thanks for reading.Tags: Year Anniversary Blog Calendar
V(ery expensive)-Day
2007-02-14 23:09:00
I bought a dozen roses for my valentine today. I tried suggesting an elaborate anti-Valentine's Day celebration, but it seems flowers, dinner, and gifts, are little more romantic than casinos, beer, and poker. So…I caved. I blame the greeting card industry. I blame them for quite a few things, actually. Regardless, when I went to the store this morning I was expecting to pay more than usual for flowers, but what I found was truly amusing.The rest of the year, or at least every time I have looked, a dozen roses cost $9.99. Moreover, the store proudly declares that their “dozen” is actually fourteen roses. It’s a pretty good deal, so I knew it wouldn’t be available today. Today, a dozen roses cost $24.99, and a dozen was suddenly twelve again. What really got me, however, was that this was the “sale” price. The “original” price was almost thirty dollars.I’m no enemy of capitalism, and I understand supply and demand…sort of. I don’t begrudge a business owner jacki
400
2007-02-14 01:45:00
The third century has come to a close. It took a little longer than I might have liked. I hope that the next will be faster, but if recent history is any indication, I won’t be holding my breath. I have often lamented the shortness of time on this blog, and I’ll refrain from repeating those whines now. However, I can say that my excuse this time is better, or at least healthier, than its predecessors.The last six weeks have seen a concerted effort towards a return to my healthier days. The last three have seen results, and the results in turn have lead to greater efforts. I have now lost fifteen pounds in twenty days, while increasing my strength on nearly every lift the gym has to offer. I’m thrilled with the outcome, but it’s taking a considerable time commitment to maintain. I’ve had to subtract an hour from every day, and blogging, it seems, has borne the loss. Hopefully I’ll adapt soon. I refuse to believe there’s not enough time to go around; my skills at
Tomorrow’s not looking good either
2007-02-09 16:17:00
Fog is trying hard to keep the city in bed. I’m not one to fight. Responsibility lies somewhere beyond that mist. My obligations are trying desperately to reach me, but right now I’m screening my calls. One of the greatest moments in cinematic history was when Peter spent all day in bed during Office Space. Today I'm living the dream. Ok, so I’m not really going to stay IN bed all day. As much as I wish I could, I just can’t sleep that much, and I can’t count on daytime television to keep me riveted either
. Still, I’m not getting dressed, not leaving my apartment, and not going to do anything that anyone might consider even remotely useful. I’m noting this for posterity because I’m pretty sure this moment is the one I’ll remember later when I am wishing I hadn’t wasted my day. But fuck later. I never liked him anyway. Now, where’s my coffee…Tags: Fog Office Space Responsibility Slacking
TBA
2007-02-08 05:12:00
Have you ever noticed that when someone wants to plan something, they usually look at their own calendar to decide the days that it "can't" be done. If they’ve got something else planned, those days aren't even up for discussion. Then it gets really pleasant. They'll send out an e-mail saying: “We need to do this. Which of these days will work for you?" If you're answer is none, the inquisition begins. You must explain why you can’t make it on the “available” days. Their reasons for only offering you five days to choose from are beyond reproach, but your reasons for not being able to do it on those five are highly suspect. They’re calendar defines the universe. Yours does not. It’s wonderful. Today I was informed that I “need” to speak in front of the better part of my school’s student body. Apparently, there are only five days, all in a row, when this can occur. By this, I mean that the person asking me has decided that only these five days are conv
Alive
2007-02-07 03:49:00
Rumors of my death have been slightly exaggerated. Still, that which doesn’t kill me leaves me slightly closer to death. It does provide wisdom, however. For example, I now know that if you are interested in medical advice, you should avoid any facility that caters to university students. Seriously. Prisoners have better health care. That, and they are generally not asked to show up thirty minutes prior to their appointments, only to find themselves outside a locked building at seven thirty on a subzero morning. Of course, there is that whole freedom thing…never mind.My week away offers nothing to report, save perhaps one. My bar application is complete, and hopefully in the hands of a competent and caring postman. One of the year’s pains in the ass has ended. I made it, barely. There’s something infuriating about being required to answer page after page of highly personal and potentially career ending questions, only to be assured that “we mean to pry” on the la
Read more: Alive
Panic. Panic?
2007-01-29 01:11:00
I have a problem. I hate crowds. It’s turning into something of a phobia. I never enjoyed crowds: I always considered things like going to the mall on Black Friday to be activities properly confined to the inner circles of hell. But lately, even every day activities like rush hour dinners out have started to raise hairs. Something must be done.When I am in a crowded place, I get nervous, sometimes excessively so. I can never say exactly why, but the correlation between nervousness and crowds is impossible to refute. As far as I can tell, it’s not the people that scare me. I’ve never had a problem with public speaking or experienced any serious stage fright. It might be a perceived lack of control, but whatever it is, it’s reliable. After last night’s hockey game, I bolted from my seat. I wasn’t being competitive. I know guys for whom the race to the parking lot is itself a highly contentious sporting event. I am not one of them. I simply wanted out. The feeli
Read more: Panic
Snow Snobbery
2007-01-27 16:26:00
It’s snowing again. The streak continues. Fortunately, this storm waited for the weekend to arrive, so there’s little temptation to brave it. This is a trying winter. I love the snow; I just like it to melt once it’s done. Now, new snow falls on old, frozen on older. Beneath the gleam the world is black-crusted with dirt and grime. That’s appropriate, I suppose. It also makes parking much more difficult.I went to a hockey game last night. I was invited to sit in a corporate-owned box, which is a great way to feel superior to other people, if you’re into that sort of thing. Usually, I’m against those 'sorts of things,' but then again I’m usually one of the ‘other people.’ But last night came with a separate entrance, a separate bathroom, and even a separate bartender. About the only thing that wasn’t include was a separate place to park. That would have been useful. Because of the recent snow, and its inability to melt, there were enormous mountains o
A Day’s Difference
2007-05-03 04:03:00
I can’t concentrate. I’d like to write something clever or funny, but the words won’t come. My mind is elsewhere, moving with great speed and no purpose. It’s my own fault. Tonight, happiness is the drug of choice, but it’s the wrong kind. It’s the fleeting kind; the sort of ephemeral joy that refuses to acknowledge the future or be judged by the past. And oh, how it teases me. I know it can’t be made permanent. I know also that men have wrecked their careers, their marriages, and even their lives in the attempt. But it seems so very close. It’s the apple hanging just a little too far out on the bough; the one that, if I were quick enough, I might just be able to grab before the branch snapped. If I were quick enough…But I’m not. I never have been. I’ve fallen before, and have the scars to prove it. I’ll fall again. Whether by error in design or operation it seems that the better part of my life is to be spent doing my very best to avoid doing my
Come What May
2007-05-02 04:53:00
It’s pouring. Dime size hail threatens my windows. My car is glaring up at me from the parking lot, obviously annoyed. I treat her badly. Someday she’ll leave me, if she survives the hail. Well, that and the lightning, which coincidentally has just informed me that I probably shouldn’t have my computer plugged in at the moment, and I definitely shouldn't be touching it seeing as how it’s hard wired into the building. But I’m betting that’s a bluff. May has arrived. It wasn’t supposed to. May of 2007 has, for a long time, been a date in the far distant future. It’s the sort of date that doesn’t actually come around; at least, not in the same way you’d expect a Christmas or a Next Tuesday to. It just feels wrong. There should have been trumpets. A proper fanfare would have been a nice way to announce the dawning of the sun—local time of course. You people in the Old World are always cheating; it’s not tomorrow yet dammit! Let me enjoy my today. I
A Familiar Step
2007-05-01 03:17:00
It’s begun again; the slow waltz towards life’s little highlights. How strange that we measure our lives by the happy moments and the time between. The sad ones only map out history, never the future. To there we already know the way. So we’ll set our minds on the next few hours of bliss and think of the last few to ease the wait. The melody is familiar. The week is a prelude to the night. Each one is different, but the anticipation remains the same. We’ll make friends, we’ll make merry, and we’ll make love. For a few hours, life will be a drunken reflection of itself; a fool happily oblivious to his less pleasant habits. Together we’ll either laugh or fight. Our pastimes can never get along. Still, we’ll do the best we can, and more often than not the night will be a happy one. But the night always ends. The lights will grow dim and the vision blurry. Music will fade without ever losing volume. Liquor will be grumpy after a double shift. We’ll love
Thud.
2007-05-04 13:44:00
That hurt. Two exams in two days. I’ll be sane again this afternoon. Until then, let me see if I can explain how things went, with a little help from The Big Lebowski:[My brilliant legal reasoning]: “And let’s also not forget…let’s not forget, Dude that…keeping wildlife, um...an amphibious rodent, for...uh, domestic...ya know, within the city... that ain't legal either.”[My professor’s response]: “What are you a fucking park ranger now?”Yeah, this oughta add a little diversity to my transcript. Two more to go...UPDATE: So I get to my final a few hours after I wrote this this morning, and the names of the people in the hypo are Donny, Walter, & Maude. Someone's watching over me...---Exchange between The Dude and Walter Sobcheck, The Big Lebowski, 1998.
You Can’t Talk About That
2007-05-08 05:26:00
Yesterday, a friend of mine was furious over the words of a stranger. The stranger, it seems, had commented on the conditions of men and women in this country, and had declared that they were more or less equal. My friend was outraged. She responded that the plight of women, if not desperate, was at least severe. Furthermore, she declared that as a woman, she spoke with more authority on the subject than he could possibly muster, and that as a result he was essentially wrong by default. He stuck to his guns; she refused to listen. Whatever the merits of the argument, and I think she had the better of them, my friend’s tactic annoyed me. First, it’s hollow. Any argument can be won by declaring that only “my” group has the clout with which to speak. Here the topic was gender, but the same ploy is equally applied to debates over race, religion, war, money, and nearly everything else that can be divided into groups. Nevertheless, that isn’t what bugs me most. It’s
|
Recommend Site To A Friend
