I made almost a thousand basic frames for KitchenAid mixers today. I easily could've topped a thousand (I make twelve within four minutes) but I had to help new guy who is 40+ years old and is working another full-time job in addition to this one. It's okay, I'd rather help the guy than boast on my blog... but still. ALMOST a thousand.
Surprisingly, I don't get too insane after eight hours of "field assembly." It may very well be that the faint Dylan, Beatles and Queen songs heard on the radio kept me afloat. The other guys quack at me and at each other - there is no hazing involved, racist or otherwise. I can't quack like they do, they quack like they would if they were duck hunting so whenever they start, I just say, "quack quack quack" and they love it. So, camaraderie. Yes.
And still, generally, the general idea is that we are unhappy. And we don't know what to do... except to point fingers. And I was doing that anyway.
Here's just one idea - listen to more music. My friend Lisa travels to Chicago in a handful of hours for New Years. Let's hope she travel safely and has a good time. Piper was supposed to journey home today... I don't think she did. Which means she gets to spend more time at the Kroeze house and we all need more of that.
Oh God. Oh my God.
Dec 29, 2007
Dec 28, 2007
Goin' Public
But it's not really a big deal. Sometime earlier this month, I had this idea to free write every end of the day for about twenty or so minutes. The first one, I really tried to tpe constantly and quickly so as to minimize thought filgering and to keep from using the backspace button (hence the tpe and the filgering - filgering is now a word, what should it mean?). Today was a wedding....
bum bum bum... another one bites the dust!
Chris "Goffie" Van Beek and Sarah Vanden Berg... I may have misspelled her maiden name. Yeah, her maiden name...
got married this evening, December 27, 2007.
If I had the bawls and will to take advantage of open mic, I would have said...
"Okay, in the spirit of the debate and name-calling that is MARRIAGE, I think someone needs to stand up to the good sides of Chris... and I think our brothers here would echo what I am about to say. For one, we think Goffie is beautiful. You're beautiful, pal. Look at him, will you? Look at him squirm! Secondly... all that foundation-threatening you blamed on him, we love that. We go apeshit over it. We dig it. And, by the way, have you seen his trunks? We call his quads trunks. Have you? This one time - this ONE TIME - during our junior year, he took me under his wing to lift weights after school. We focused on lower body mostly and doing squats. Afterwards, we went to the Huisman house to shower and eat and I don't remember how I got down the stairs but I remember screaming in agony in the shower. I couldn't feel my legs! It was horrifying! But it was the most proud horrification I've ever felt. Ever. I still haven't recovered and I look forward to another beat down. Anyway, what I'm really trying to get at is that we're pretty protective of our kind - you know, the exclusive brothers of Unity - and with Goffie, we've got a lot to lose. Our side has taken some hits already but I don't know anyone of us that could bring out, in Chris, what Sarah does. And she does it very well. So take care of him or you'll have thirteen angry boys at your door. Also, we hope you the best and happiest. Cheers - I love you guys."
Long and winded, eh? That's how I roll? Add in a few moments of unbridled laughter and that is pretty close to what would've happened. Luckily, I restrained myself. For the record, I have taken down Mr. tree trunk legs before. It's been a practice of ours to 'rassle spontaneously whenever we're around - this particular time happened midway through first semester of freshman year in the West Hall hallway, I charged him from his front and, I swear that he knew I was coming and he was ready, but he went down and when I realized that he was pinned... by me... I began to rejoice. I might have kissed him but if I did, it was definitely on the cheeks... and repeatedly. So yeah, I love him and I know she'll take care of him and he'll give his life for her.
It's amazing that they found each other when they did so early in life. Someone raised a glass and said that, by the world's standards, they are way early because they need to learn about themselves before marrying someone else BUT they already know who they are because they are Christians. Get it? They know they are children of God, so they don't need to learn about themselves.
Yeah, I didn't get it either.
No, I know. I disagree too.
Jen Arndt is back from Germany. It was good seeing her and hearing from her - I have to remember to pray for her. My gosh. I have to remember to pray for her.
I read a magazine article about some monks in some monastery and they were making cheese or wine or something exciting and they said that their occupation was to pray and the cheese/wine was so they could fund their occupation. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard... and I wanted to become a monk. Wouldn't my parents be pissed?
Maybe I should. We make decisions all the time - we should make them and stand by them.
I love you, reader. I hope your break is going well. Remember to pray for everyone.
bum bum bum... another one bites the dust!
Chris "Goffie" Van Beek and Sarah Vanden Berg... I may have misspelled her maiden name. Yeah, her maiden name...
got married this evening, December 27, 2007.
If I had the bawls and will to take advantage of open mic, I would have said...
"Okay, in the spirit of the debate and name-calling that is MARRIAGE, I think someone needs to stand up to the good sides of Chris... and I think our brothers here would echo what I am about to say. For one, we think Goffie is beautiful. You're beautiful, pal. Look at him, will you? Look at him squirm! Secondly... all that foundation-threatening you blamed on him, we love that. We go apeshit over it. We dig it. And, by the way, have you seen his trunks? We call his quads trunks. Have you? This one time - this ONE TIME - during our junior year, he took me under his wing to lift weights after school. We focused on lower body mostly and doing squats. Afterwards, we went to the Huisman house to shower and eat and I don't remember how I got down the stairs but I remember screaming in agony in the shower. I couldn't feel my legs! It was horrifying! But it was the most proud horrification I've ever felt. Ever. I still haven't recovered and I look forward to another beat down. Anyway, what I'm really trying to get at is that we're pretty protective of our kind - you know, the exclusive brothers of Unity - and with Goffie, we've got a lot to lose. Our side has taken some hits already but I don't know anyone of us that could bring out, in Chris, what Sarah does. And she does it very well. So take care of him or you'll have thirteen angry boys at your door. Also, we hope you the best and happiest. Cheers - I love you guys."
Long and winded, eh? That's how I roll? Add in a few moments of unbridled laughter and that is pretty close to what would've happened. Luckily, I restrained myself. For the record, I have taken down Mr. tree trunk legs before. It's been a practice of ours to 'rassle spontaneously whenever we're around - this particular time happened midway through first semester of freshman year in the West Hall hallway, I charged him from his front and, I swear that he knew I was coming and he was ready, but he went down and when I realized that he was pinned... by me... I began to rejoice. I might have kissed him but if I did, it was definitely on the cheeks... and repeatedly. So yeah, I love him and I know she'll take care of him and he'll give his life for her.
It's amazing that they found each other when they did so early in life. Someone raised a glass and said that, by the world's standards, they are way early because they need to learn about themselves before marrying someone else BUT they already know who they are because they are Christians. Get it? They know they are children of God, so they don't need to learn about themselves.
Yeah, I didn't get it either.
No, I know. I disagree too.
Jen Arndt is back from Germany. It was good seeing her and hearing from her - I have to remember to pray for her. My gosh. I have to remember to pray for her.
I read a magazine article about some monks in some monastery and they were making cheese or wine or something exciting and they said that their occupation was to pray and the cheese/wine was so they could fund their occupation. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard... and I wanted to become a monk. Wouldn't my parents be pissed?
Maybe I should. We make decisions all the time - we should make them and stand by them.
I love you, reader. I hope your break is going well. Remember to pray for everyone.
Dec 23, 2007
That time I almost cried over a dog
It was an extremely good night.
I relived the better, the brightside, of the last year or so - in terms of work - and, amidst the bum-rushing and mischief, I saw I Am Legend. For free. And that made it a little better, overall.
There's a lot to be said... because I was/am under the impression that Will Smith takes the same role in most of his movies, plays himself (charming, funny black man) INTO his roles and... well, I read in a magazine article that when he was trying to "make it" he and some other fellow chronicled the most successful (commercially) films of all time and drew what they had in common (things like "special effects" with or without destructive creatures, oooooh!). Hence... Men in Black(s), iRobot, Bad Boys, Bad Boys II, freaking Wild Wild West and, now, I Am Legend.
I hope I bring myself to write more about this later. But I'll say, as a preface, that we sat in the front row and it was uncomfortable.
front row seating
+
cinematographers disregarding the pan/tilt rule of 7 seconds
+
really trendy hand-held camera work (paired with gorgeous crane shots, mind you)
+
myself feeling very full already
=
a headache to be reckoned with
I relived the better, the brightside, of the last year or so - in terms of work - and, amidst the bum-rushing and mischief, I saw I Am Legend. For free. And that made it a little better, overall.
There's a lot to be said... because I was/am under the impression that Will Smith takes the same role in most of his movies, plays himself (charming, funny black man) INTO his roles and... well, I read in a magazine article that when he was trying to "make it" he and some other fellow chronicled the most successful (commercially) films of all time and drew what they had in common (things like "special effects" with or without destructive creatures, oooooh!). Hence... Men in Black(s), iRobot, Bad Boys, Bad Boys II, freaking Wild Wild West and, now, I Am Legend.
I hope I bring myself to write more about this later. But I'll say, as a preface, that we sat in the front row and it was uncomfortable.
front row seating
+
cinematographers disregarding the pan/tilt rule of 7 seconds
+
really trendy hand-held camera work (paired with gorgeous crane shots, mind you)
+
myself feeling very full already
=
a headache to be reckoned with
Dec 19, 2007
I have my last exam in a little bit and just spent the past twenty minutes reading up on the basics of compost and composting. It was fascinating. Not that Clive Staples' ideas on love(s) isn't fascinating also - it is a necessary read for everyone on campus - and they are both applicable... well, maybe not compost as much during this season, but
...two friends picked up my brother from the airport the other day. I asked him what he thought of them, Jake and Piper. "Your friends are all hippies." Jake and Piper? If making out uncontrollably and insatiably makes you a hippie... well, yeah I guess it does.
On that note, which major of study is, for lack of better standards, the best?
...two friends picked up my brother from the airport the other day. I asked him what he thought of them, Jake and Piper. "Your friends are all hippies." Jake and Piper? If making out uncontrollably and insatiably makes you a hippie... well, yeah I guess it does.
On that note, which major of study is, for lack of better standards, the best?
Dec 13, 2007
Dec 10, 2007
Disorder
I'm in Psych class... do you think Homosexuality is a cognitive disorder?
Is it chemically/mentally abnormal?
The four indications of abnormal behavior or mindset that we just got on our notes are
1) Statistical Deviance
2) Cultural Deviance
3) Emotional Distress
4) Dysfunction
...ok, so there's a girl who has proved to the class to be very, very dumb talking about how of course it (homosexuality) is a disorder because life is a lot harder as a gay. While this isn't the reason for the post, not everybody is a Christian in a small town in NW Iowa where there are seven churches in a two-mile radius. Which means that, more and more, it is becoming acceptable to be a homosexual in the world... which means
1) There are more and more homosexuals in the world
2) Our laws and tolerance are shifting towards general acceptance, generally, as a society
3) We read some texts over the weekend about how, by their 20s, homosexuals usually make their peace with their sexual orientation
4) Only until you "make your peace" would the struggle keep you from living your life
In this world today... which, on the one hand, is good - people who are struggling with personal orientation should never feel rejected or abandoned by society.
But here's the question.
Say it IS a mental disorder (strictly a hypothetical). What if the individual does not want to be cured? Say he/she embraces her homosexuality and chooses to live with it.
What if someone suffered from Major Depression, but felt that they did not want to be cured (with neither medication nor therapy)? Immediately, I thought of Hemingway and Woolf and a billiong songwriters - all of their works were affected by their depression/adversity. What if Ms. Dickinson didn't suffer from agoraphobia... would she have written less poems? Different poems? I don't know or imagine that she embraced her disorder... but can you imagine? If F. Scott Fitzgerald wasn't an alcoholic... he wouldn't need to write for booze money... which is what we were taught in high school.
On the one hand, I guess it doesn't matter - in this case - whether it is a disorder or not. But it does matter a bit because... if/when we (in our place in history) reach the point where homosexuality is the complete norm, there is not way it would be considered a disorder - even if discoveries were made in the physical brain anatomy (and they HAVE made some already: they don't allude to homosexuality as a disorder, but more as an inherent "born with it" condition).
Is it chemically/mentally abnormal?
The four indications of abnormal behavior or mindset that we just got on our notes are
1) Statistical Deviance
2) Cultural Deviance
3) Emotional Distress
4) Dysfunction
...ok, so there's a girl who has proved to the class to be very, very dumb talking about how of course it (homosexuality) is a disorder because life is a lot harder as a gay. While this isn't the reason for the post, not everybody is a Christian in a small town in NW Iowa where there are seven churches in a two-mile radius. Which means that, more and more, it is becoming acceptable to be a homosexual in the world... which means
1) There are more and more homosexuals in the world
2) Our laws and tolerance are shifting towards general acceptance, generally, as a society
3) We read some texts over the weekend about how, by their 20s, homosexuals usually make their peace with their sexual orientation
4) Only until you "make your peace" would the struggle keep you from living your life
In this world today... which, on the one hand, is good - people who are struggling with personal orientation should never feel rejected or abandoned by society.
But here's the question.
Say it IS a mental disorder (strictly a hypothetical). What if the individual does not want to be cured? Say he/she embraces her homosexuality and chooses to live with it.
What if someone suffered from Major Depression, but felt that they did not want to be cured (with neither medication nor therapy)? Immediately, I thought of Hemingway and Woolf and a billiong songwriters - all of their works were affected by their depression/adversity. What if Ms. Dickinson didn't suffer from agoraphobia... would she have written less poems? Different poems? I don't know or imagine that she embraced her disorder... but can you imagine? If F. Scott Fitzgerald wasn't an alcoholic... he wouldn't need to write for booze money... which is what we were taught in high school.
On the one hand, I guess it doesn't matter - in this case - whether it is a disorder or not. But it does matter a bit because... if/when we (in our place in history) reach the point where homosexuality is the complete norm, there is not way it would be considered a disorder - even if discoveries were made in the physical brain anatomy (and they HAVE made some already: they don't allude to homosexuality as a disorder, but more as an inherent "born with it" condition).
OKOKOK. Here's the plan. I'm going to get some sleep in the darkroom... in a little less than four hours, when the library is open, I'm going to wake up and find some sources on my boy Dylan Thomas to fill a little less than a page of my paper. Then, I will edit my paper, turn it in and voila! Alvin has finished everything for his Monday classes. Does everyone get it? Okay. Break!
Edit: The darkroom has a bare cement floor. It is a mega bitch to sleep on. My ribs hurt. But my paper has been turned in and both things for Psych. have been turned in. That's called sacrifice and dedication, holmes.
Edit: The darkroom has a bare cement floor. It is a mega bitch to sleep on. My ribs hurt. But my paper has been turned in and both things for Psych. have been turned in. That's called sacrifice and dedication, holmes.
Dec 7, 2007
You've Changed, Man
This is probably my most-listened-to/favorite Jars of Clay album.
If I Left the Zoo.
Floopy Sarah once said, in regards to their newest album that they aren't as cool and appealing as they used to be... back when they were solidly organic and then the branched into distortions and touched on different genres. Which is good. And they expanded from their totally raw first album and-I know niche isn't really a good word to use when a band should develop-but they were aware, at least, of their niche. They knew what they were good at, what made them into a big deal and sprung off from there. They had a grasp of instrumentality and they knew how to mix sounds together.
I s'pose I haven't heard much of Good Monsters.... and, apparently, it's a touch back to the rock influences they had when they were starting off as a band...
Who We Are Instead, I remember, had a lot of songs I appreciated (a few that I absolutely hated too) but I think my initial thought was that they attempted to be concise or simplistic or whatever but they came off as lazy. I should listen to it again.
I didn't realllllly like the Redemption Songs they did. At all? Well, maybe a bit.
I don't know.
It's a campus visit day today - there are prospy kids giggling and sitting behind me playing cards. The kids that were tiny and squeaky voiced when were were seniors are here, ready to pay tuition and attend our classes and play football with us next fall. It's freaking us (Ben is here too, flipping out over his Organic Chem. test) out man.
I was going to get to bed at ten frickin' thirty last night and get... twelve hours of sleep. BUT, I remembered I had a psych paper due today on homosexuality. So I stayed up doing that, kicking ass at that, and then I woke up a bit from that because of the Cherry Coke and the conversations and the James Dobson spewing shit and telling a wide array of scientists that they suck at their jobs. I like that guy... but anyway, I got to bed, after paying my dues, around four AM. I was going to shower this morning. It didn't happen, but no one said has said anything... yet. Thank God for deodorant. What a weird word. De-odor-ant.
Is the plural for panini, panini? I want to make food... for a living...? George Orwell's story about killing an elephant is from his time as a policeman in Burma. Awesome. It's a great story.
Jars of Clay - Goodbye, Goodnight
Gorillaz - Fire Coming out of the Monkey's Head
If I Left the Zoo.
Floopy Sarah once said, in regards to their newest album that they aren't as cool and appealing as they used to be... back when they were solidly organic and then the branched into distortions and touched on different genres. Which is good. And they expanded from their totally raw first album and-I know niche isn't really a good word to use when a band should develop-but they were aware, at least, of their niche. They knew what they were good at, what made them into a big deal and sprung off from there. They had a grasp of instrumentality and they knew how to mix sounds together.
I s'pose I haven't heard much of Good Monsters.... and, apparently, it's a touch back to the rock influences they had when they were starting off as a band...
Who We Are Instead, I remember, had a lot of songs I appreciated (a few that I absolutely hated too) but I think my initial thought was that they attempted to be concise or simplistic or whatever but they came off as lazy. I should listen to it again.
I didn't realllllly like the Redemption Songs they did. At all? Well, maybe a bit.
I don't know.
It's a campus visit day today - there are prospy kids giggling and sitting behind me playing cards. The kids that were tiny and squeaky voiced when were were seniors are here, ready to pay tuition and attend our classes and play football with us next fall. It's freaking us (Ben is here too, flipping out over his Organic Chem. test) out man.
I was going to get to bed at ten frickin' thirty last night and get... twelve hours of sleep. BUT, I remembered I had a psych paper due today on homosexuality. So I stayed up doing that, kicking ass at that, and then I woke up a bit from that because of the Cherry Coke and the conversations and the James Dobson spewing shit and telling a wide array of scientists that they suck at their jobs. I like that guy... but anyway, I got to bed, after paying my dues, around four AM. I was going to shower this morning. It didn't happen, but no one said has said anything... yet. Thank God for deodorant. What a weird word. De-odor-ant.
Is the plural for panini, panini? I want to make food... for a living...? George Orwell's story about killing an elephant is from his time as a policeman in Burma. Awesome. It's a great story.
Jars of Clay - Goodbye, Goodnight
Gorillaz - Fire Coming out of the Monkey's Head
Dec 4, 2007
Tonight, I was reminded as to why I signed up to major in English: Writing.
And then I remembered that one time on the bus ride back from our senior trip (Omaha zoo and mystery dinner theatre on a train... that was awesome). It was pouring rain and the streets well very well flooded, the giant yellow school bus trudging along and them in the back, licking each other and letting off four years of ridiculous behavior and drama. We were in the front, calm and collected and sweating the moisture off of us. We went around the circle and discussed what one thing we wanted to do before we died - something of a legacy or accomplishment with what we knew of ourselves at the moment (which, the time being, we thought was a hefty amount). I said I wanted to write a novel.
Sarah, was that esoteric?
And then I remembered that one time on the bus ride back from our senior trip (Omaha zoo and mystery dinner theatre on a train... that was awesome). It was pouring rain and the streets well very well flooded, the giant yellow school bus trudging along and them in the back, licking each other and letting off four years of ridiculous behavior and drama. We were in the front, calm and collected and sweating the moisture off of us. We went around the circle and discussed what one thing we wanted to do before we died - something of a legacy or accomplishment with what we knew of ourselves at the moment (which, the time being, we thought was a hefty amount). I said I wanted to write a novel.
Sarah, was that esoteric?
Dec 3, 2007
A Moment of Reflection, A Use of Time
There are a billion things we know we should do but, for one reason or another, we don't anyway. In a handful of pages, I'll be caught up in my reading for last Friday's Modern British Lit. assignment. It's an extremely important and well written book and I love reading it, but it takes time to pore through each sentence - one cannot do this while watching Brokeback Mountain, spending time with the family, visiting, catching up with a friend while printing photos, hearing a story from another friend while printing other photos.
Tonight still, I should pray for my aunt (who is going to have a biopsy and hopefully she doesn't have breast cancer or, if she does, that it is caught early enough to be treated), Tink and Jina and the fact that they are due on Wednesday, my mother (who turns something in her early 40s tomorrow... today, I guess), my friend with _________, and my other friend who is going through something similar, my friend and problems with ________ etc.
Furthermore, there should be room enough at the end of a day to reflect upon thoughts and events. The ideas that have been looming in the mentality of day-to-day studies and ambitions. Should I go for an individual studies? I went to see a counselor last Thursday and was encouraged to take note of the events in which I find myself the most content or satisfied...
1) cooking
2) viewing or talking about films
3) listening to and talking about music
4) taking, developing, printing and talking about photos
5) reading, writing
It's quite a list - I know. So much of this (and all of what hasn't been named) isn't included on the English: Writing major guideline. There are scant writing courses that Dordt offers anyway, not to mention the fact that one of the key English profs that can instruct in writing will retire next year.
Compartmentalize... and, "Who do you want a boyfriend so badly? You won't be having any babies while you're in college so calm down!"
I want to make a mix cd.
Tonight still, I should pray for my aunt (who is going to have a biopsy and hopefully she doesn't have breast cancer or, if she does, that it is caught early enough to be treated), Tink and Jina and the fact that they are due on Wednesday, my mother (who turns something in her early 40s tomorrow... today, I guess), my friend with _________, and my other friend who is going through something similar, my friend and problems with ________ etc.
Furthermore, there should be room enough at the end of a day to reflect upon thoughts and events. The ideas that have been looming in the mentality of day-to-day studies and ambitions. Should I go for an individual studies? I went to see a counselor last Thursday and was encouraged to take note of the events in which I find myself the most content or satisfied...
1) cooking
2) viewing or talking about films
3) listening to and talking about music
4) taking, developing, printing and talking about photos
5) reading, writing
It's quite a list - I know. So much of this (and all of what hasn't been named) isn't included on the English: Writing major guideline. There are scant writing courses that Dordt offers anyway, not to mention the fact that one of the key English profs that can instruct in writing will retire next year.
Compartmentalize... and, "Who do you want a boyfriend so badly? You won't be having any babies while you're in college so calm down!"
I want to make a mix cd.
Nov 28, 2007
Mr. Tambourine Man
Maybe a big part of my motivation/functioning/depression problem is that I haven't established an efficient workspace. I'm in the lab downstairs in the dormhall that I hate. I should ask Jake if he wants to take a shot at fixing my laptop. One of the more significant, reocurring day dreams I have is, I suppose, for a workspace-type region, a location that I frequent and can handle writing, photo, hold my books and dvds and play my music, keep tea plants and burn incense. It's in my head, rearranging itself constantly, but it's beautiful.
To-do lists are great. Even the ones for specific days that plan out the obligatory tasks one must satisy. Betsy and I are compiling a to-do list for life and it makes me ambitious and restless in a good way. We send the paper back and forth during philosophy - I promise to put it on here sometime soon.
My brother called me a few days ago while I was napping. I should get back to him, but I don't really like talking on the phone with my brothers because they like to tell me what my situation is or what I need to do. Aside from that, it's always a very rushed conversation. Another person to write to. The legions of women reading this blog are thinking that that is typical man behavior... they may be right. I suppose it is a feminine desire of mine to have a conversation with someone where both sides listen but to hell with feminine/masculine labels; this is basic human communication. It is that he wants me to be well and that he feels like he knows what I'm going through or that he wants to provide support and a solution for me, his younger brother. Honestly, you'd think that he would realize that it only frustrates and discourages me when he gives such a succinct answer. What I think when he does this is, "Okay, you aren't really taking this seriously... so I'm going to start nodding now..." I hope he's doing well.
I think I'm going to develop rolls of film by twos instead of by fours or sixes. I really need to pay closer attention to the temperature of the chemicals - for the small town project, I guess the temp. varied pretty harshly between developer, stop wash, fix etc. and the grain was pretty visible on the prints, even on the small one of the kid posing next to his car. I mean, I deliberately made a smaller print of that to avoid compromising the clarity. Elbert said it might be my camera. Doug said it was the developing temperatures. I hope it's not the camera.
Apparently, at the Omaha camera show, you can get a complete darkroom outfit for $100. Seriously? My gosh. This whole aspiration to be poor but writing and taking photos and owning part of a gallery with my commune is getting closer to a reality. This is going to happen.
I'm banned from DordtTalk... but there is a thread going on that someone I dislike and do not respect started. About Nickelback and how she likes Nickelback, unashamedly, and wants to discuss why a lot of people don't like Nickelback. She misspelled Nickelback and, in explaining why she likes them, she cited that she enjoys their sound. I hate her and she is dumb. She also claims to have an eclectic taste in music and to enjoy music in general.
You can't claim to be eclectic while liking a few random bands of different genres... well, I guess you can in the general definition of eclectic.
How about this? You can't claim to care about and enjoy music generally if you don't give at least a little thought to all aspects of a song/band (lyrics, melody, instrument, originality, production, energy etc.). If you say you appreciate a band (and seriously enjoy music) and the reason being that you like their sound, I'm not going to take you seriously.
I'm all friggin' for people liking different bands/genres but you should at least be able to discuss and back up your repertoire if you claim to like music, generally. And if you get your ass handed to you in rebuttal, you shouldn't get mad and stop talking. It doesn't take a lot of ingenuity and effort to make pleasing sounds but pleasing sounds aren't always music.
That said, I think I should state that I do appreciate pop music... a lot of pop music actually. This is a big discussion; it is bigger than myself.
To-do lists are great. Even the ones for specific days that plan out the obligatory tasks one must satisy. Betsy and I are compiling a to-do list for life and it makes me ambitious and restless in a good way. We send the paper back and forth during philosophy - I promise to put it on here sometime soon.
My brother called me a few days ago while I was napping. I should get back to him, but I don't really like talking on the phone with my brothers because they like to tell me what my situation is or what I need to do. Aside from that, it's always a very rushed conversation. Another person to write to. The legions of women reading this blog are thinking that that is typical man behavior... they may be right. I suppose it is a feminine desire of mine to have a conversation with someone where both sides listen but to hell with feminine/masculine labels; this is basic human communication. It is that he wants me to be well and that he feels like he knows what I'm going through or that he wants to provide support and a solution for me, his younger brother. Honestly, you'd think that he would realize that it only frustrates and discourages me when he gives such a succinct answer. What I think when he does this is, "Okay, you aren't really taking this seriously... so I'm going to start nodding now..." I hope he's doing well.
I think I'm going to develop rolls of film by twos instead of by fours or sixes. I really need to pay closer attention to the temperature of the chemicals - for the small town project, I guess the temp. varied pretty harshly between developer, stop wash, fix etc. and the grain was pretty visible on the prints, even on the small one of the kid posing next to his car. I mean, I deliberately made a smaller print of that to avoid compromising the clarity. Elbert said it might be my camera. Doug said it was the developing temperatures. I hope it's not the camera.
Apparently, at the Omaha camera show, you can get a complete darkroom outfit for $100. Seriously? My gosh. This whole aspiration to be poor but writing and taking photos and owning part of a gallery with my commune is getting closer to a reality. This is going to happen.
I'm banned from DordtTalk... but there is a thread going on that someone I dislike and do not respect started. About Nickelback and how she likes Nickelback, unashamedly, and wants to discuss why a lot of people don't like Nickelback. She misspelled Nickelback and, in explaining why she likes them, she cited that she enjoys their sound. I hate her and she is dumb. She also claims to have an eclectic taste in music and to enjoy music in general.
You can't claim to be eclectic while liking a few random bands of different genres... well, I guess you can in the general definition of eclectic.
How about this? You can't claim to care about and enjoy music generally if you don't give at least a little thought to all aspects of a song/band (lyrics, melody, instrument, originality, production, energy etc.). If you say you appreciate a band (and seriously enjoy music) and the reason being that you like their sound, I'm not going to take you seriously.
I'm all friggin' for people liking different bands/genres but you should at least be able to discuss and back up your repertoire if you claim to like music, generally. And if you get your ass handed to you in rebuttal, you shouldn't get mad and stop talking. It doesn't take a lot of ingenuity and effort to make pleasing sounds but pleasing sounds aren't always music.
That said, I think I should state that I do appreciate pop music... a lot of pop music actually. This is a big discussion; it is bigger than myself.
Nov 26, 2007
Quick Question
OK. Michael Bay sucks... and the elaboration that will follow has to do with the entire genre of filmmaking. For a preface, go to his info on imdb and scroll down to the forum where people are all, "I don't care that his films have shitty dialogue and story and character! Plots be damned! They are good, American entertainment! Just look at how rich he is!" It makes me sick.
Finding Neverland has some really word colors, choppy editing and not the best shots - but it is one of my favorite films.
Adaptation. Nicolas Cage is two-fold in Adaptation. Huh? BUT, try and believe me, he is awesome in it. And so is Meryl Streep and Chris Cooper. I should just be able to say Chris Cooper and it would justify the brilliance of the film, but it is a great film in itself... because of originality, acting, Kaufman, Jonze etc.
The question is, because a lot of you have voiced that you'd rather keep a lid on my cynical/condescending/arrogant/nit-picking/critical reviews on films and music and lifestyle... should I make a separate blog fo' this?
Finding Neverland has some really word colors, choppy editing and not the best shots - but it is one of my favorite films.
Adaptation. Nicolas Cage is two-fold in Adaptation. Huh? BUT, try and believe me, he is awesome in it. And so is Meryl Streep and Chris Cooper. I should just be able to say Chris Cooper and it would justify the brilliance of the film, but it is a great film in itself... because of originality, acting, Kaufman, Jonze etc.
The question is, because a lot of you have voiced that you'd rather keep a lid on my cynical/condescending/arrogant/nit-picking/critical reviews on films and music and lifestyle... should I make a separate blog fo' this?
Nov 24, 2007
Been working for the church while my life falls apart
This is... complete hypocrisy when I say this...
but I'd like to encourage everyone with a blog to
1)write more
2)to write without fear
3)to write with your voice, because no one else can say what you are thinking
No, I don't plan on being an English teacher because I don't think I could say this to a classroom full of kids with a straight face, day after day. I'll leave that to professionals like Hazeu.
Writing is a tough, effing deal. When was the last time you tried to free write? When was the last time you tried creation at all? It's difficult! It's always difficult! (But I suppose the difficulty is somewhat pending upon your personal expectations.)
I can't do it.
Wait yes I can. I've been attempting it for years and years. Some years were more productive than others - sure. But there are some things that I'm really proud about writing.
I get excited about writing sometimes, like I get excited when I think about printing a negative after seeing it for the first time when the fix is all washed off, when the viewfinder of the camera places a clean and well-thought out composition and the footage is finally captured so the sequence is mentally pieced together.
I usually get excited about writing because I read good writing.
I can't do it.
I don't know what to do, what I should do or if I'm doing what I am currently doing (a lot of nothing and freaking the fuck out) is for the right reason... or if it is a direct result of my tendency to hate humanity, love and myself.
But I think I have a good idea what love is. And I think I love humanity and myself enough to be humble and recognize that I (me, Alvin) is not a big deal at all
and
at the same time
I know that they love me.
I'm always okay. Maybe there are times when I wish I were doing better, but I'm always okay.
I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way. Aren't we all?
Your turn;
Am I something of an island?
Why does/did Mrs. Krygsman think I was cocky?
but I'd like to encourage everyone with a blog to
1)write more
2)to write without fear
3)to write with your voice, because no one else can say what you are thinking
No, I don't plan on being an English teacher because I don't think I could say this to a classroom full of kids with a straight face, day after day. I'll leave that to professionals like Hazeu.
Writing is a tough, effing deal. When was the last time you tried to free write? When was the last time you tried creation at all? It's difficult! It's always difficult! (But I suppose the difficulty is somewhat pending upon your personal expectations.)
I can't do it.
Wait yes I can. I've been attempting it for years and years. Some years were more productive than others - sure. But there are some things that I'm really proud about writing.
I get excited about writing sometimes, like I get excited when I think about printing a negative after seeing it for the first time when the fix is all washed off, when the viewfinder of the camera places a clean and well-thought out composition and the footage is finally captured so the sequence is mentally pieced together.
I usually get excited about writing because I read good writing.
I can't do it.
I don't know what to do, what I should do or if I'm doing what I am currently doing (a lot of nothing and freaking the fuck out) is for the right reason... or if it is a direct result of my tendency to hate humanity, love and myself.
But I think I have a good idea what love is. And I think I love humanity and myself enough to be humble and recognize that I (me, Alvin) is not a big deal at all
and
at the same time
I know that they love me.
I'm always okay. Maybe there are times when I wish I were doing better, but I'm always okay.
I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way. Aren't we all?
Your turn;
Am I something of an island?
Why does/did Mrs. Krygsman think I was cocky?
Nov 20, 2007
I wonder if anyone I know will be at breakfast...
I also wonder:
-if it is 5 44 AM here in NW Iowa, and, it being mid/late November, it tends to get dark right around 5 30 PM... what time the sunrise will be
-how effin' cold it will be
-whether my roommate worries on mornings like these that he wakes up without me sprawled on the couch (I sleep on the couch or the hammock, more the couch lately because of the late nights and the cold)
-if I can stay awake... today.
I think I'd be okay with eating alone... I might prefer it? Especially for breakfast, but I think the best situation would be to have breakfast with someone terrific but to eat and sit in silence (mostly).
OK. I'm in the process of pulling an all-nighter but I'm going to share some thoughts about dreams. They've always been significantly fascinating to me-both because they are so elusive in recollection, form and study and because they are, at the same time, so vivid and powerful - as if even the most cliche plots and worst actors could draw your heart in... every night. I have considered before that they may very well be a string of sub-conscious repressed thoughts that get to play once your guard is let down. Thank you Freud and those influenced by Freud. However... could it be perhaps that in addition to/contrary to that theory, that though we don't always realize or acknowledge our dreams, that they play a key role to our behavior and reality once we wake up? Are we at our most emotionally and psychologically vulnerable when we are in REM? Maybe God (and I wouldn't put it past him/her) actually is sovereign over every aspect of our being. I'm thinking of the movie Signs here and the idea that there is no coincidence, no randomosity... that every roll of the dice, every hair that falls from our heards... and every sequence of events that befall us in our sleep is a significant... speck, at least, of our existence.
Note: I really hate the movie The Butterfly Effect, but I suppose it has some domain in this brooding vomit.
Psychology really does interest me... do I obtain the capacity to explore it? Is my mental disposition worthy of such a tedious and significant study?
"Significant study? Compared to what, Alvin? Compared to what?"
Well, that's a whole different post isn't it?
Which reminds me... Piper/Joel/PaulK, get moving on that DordtTalk alternative, will you?
One last question in humility... How do you go about _______ __ ____ ____ ____________?
-if it is 5 44 AM here in NW Iowa, and, it being mid/late November, it tends to get dark right around 5 30 PM... what time the sunrise will be
-how effin' cold it will be
-whether my roommate worries on mornings like these that he wakes up without me sprawled on the couch (I sleep on the couch or the hammock, more the couch lately because of the late nights and the cold)
-if I can stay awake... today.
I think I'd be okay with eating alone... I might prefer it? Especially for breakfast, but I think the best situation would be to have breakfast with someone terrific but to eat and sit in silence (mostly).
OK. I'm in the process of pulling an all-nighter but I'm going to share some thoughts about dreams. They've always been significantly fascinating to me-both because they are so elusive in recollection, form and study and because they are, at the same time, so vivid and powerful - as if even the most cliche plots and worst actors could draw your heart in... every night. I have considered before that they may very well be a string of sub-conscious repressed thoughts that get to play once your guard is let down. Thank you Freud and those influenced by Freud. However... could it be perhaps that in addition to/contrary to that theory, that though we don't always realize or acknowledge our dreams, that they play a key role to our behavior and reality once we wake up? Are we at our most emotionally and psychologically vulnerable when we are in REM? Maybe God (and I wouldn't put it past him/her) actually is sovereign over every aspect of our being. I'm thinking of the movie Signs here and the idea that there is no coincidence, no randomosity... that every roll of the dice, every hair that falls from our heards... and every sequence of events that befall us in our sleep is a significant... speck, at least, of our existence.
Note: I really hate the movie The Butterfly Effect, but I suppose it has some domain in this brooding vomit.
Psychology really does interest me... do I obtain the capacity to explore it? Is my mental disposition worthy of such a tedious and significant study?
"Significant study? Compared to what, Alvin? Compared to what?"
Well, that's a whole different post isn't it?
Which reminds me... Piper/Joel/PaulK, get moving on that DordtTalk alternative, will you?
One last question in humility... How do you go about _______ __ ____ ____ ____________?
Nov 8, 2007
Do you know where I was at your age?
When my dad was in college, he maintained a GPA of at least 3.7 and up.
He also worked when he wasn't in class or studying. He didn't have his parents pay his way. He didn't receive half tuition because HIS dad was a prof.
I'm not saying I regret quitting the theater because, and hear me if you will, Fridley Theatres (based mostly in Iowa and South Dakota and surrounding states) is a horribly managed chain. Family owned means incompetent employers and paying their workers below minimum wage for seven months... and counting.
I just spent four hours in the darkroom.
Before that, I was discussing music and literature.
Before that, I was studying philosophy (Plato, Aristotle, Bavinck).
Before that, I had practice for chapel.
Before that, I was editing videos for this weekend.
Before that, I took Renae to the hospital.
Before that, I had class.
Before that, I had another class.
Before that, I felt like I should start the day but suffered a severe lack of motivation...
and now, at 5:20 in the morning, while still unprepared for my day, I feel great to be alive. Yes, I'm tired... and I should keep reading both philosophy (for the test tomorrow) and Hamlet (for my first class tomorrow).
I keep being approached for what I've been saying on DordtTalk. DordtTalk is our campus online forum for discussion. I had forgotten about it until Student Forum considered removing it... for various reasons. Yes, that happens sometimes.
My car can't drive for more than ten minutes at a time.
Renae's car can't drive... at all... because of me.
My computer is in repair in Sioux Falls... I cannot obtain it.
...I think we'll be okay though. The thing to say here would be, "At least we have our health," but remember what I said about taking Renae to the hospital? That was to draw blood so they could run tests and figure out what's wrong with her. At least we have... the care to freak out over such things.
He also worked when he wasn't in class or studying. He didn't have his parents pay his way. He didn't receive half tuition because HIS dad was a prof.
I'm not saying I regret quitting the theater because, and hear me if you will, Fridley Theatres (based mostly in Iowa and South Dakota and surrounding states) is a horribly managed chain. Family owned means incompetent employers and paying their workers below minimum wage for seven months... and counting.
I just spent four hours in the darkroom.
Before that, I was discussing music and literature.
Before that, I was studying philosophy (Plato, Aristotle, Bavinck).
Before that, I had practice for chapel.
Before that, I was editing videos for this weekend.
Before that, I took Renae to the hospital.
Before that, I had class.
Before that, I had another class.
Before that, I felt like I should start the day but suffered a severe lack of motivation...
and now, at 5:20 in the morning, while still unprepared for my day, I feel great to be alive. Yes, I'm tired... and I should keep reading both philosophy (for the test tomorrow) and Hamlet (for my first class tomorrow).
I keep being approached for what I've been saying on DordtTalk. DordtTalk is our campus online forum for discussion. I had forgotten about it until Student Forum considered removing it... for various reasons. Yes, that happens sometimes.
My car can't drive for more than ten minutes at a time.
Renae's car can't drive... at all... because of me.
My computer is in repair in Sioux Falls... I cannot obtain it.
...I think we'll be okay though. The thing to say here would be, "At least we have our health," but remember what I said about taking Renae to the hospital? That was to draw blood so they could run tests and figure out what's wrong with her. At least we have... the care to freak out over such things.
Nov 3, 2007
I know I've been a liar and I know I've been a fool
OkOkOk... a night of sitting on the floor and, again, catching up so brilliantly
-so easily-
and then braving the cold and the wind outside, scrawling messages with shaking fingers...
that shifted into a glass of wine, a cupcake and more biographicals and ideas...
"Our beliefs change to fit our actions when it should be the other way around."
...right? Oh man. You're right. Is what I said.
Well, maybe not completely but it could so easily be correct. We were discussing how our views change from when we first learn about things to now, when we do things.
"I will NEVER..." turns into "I enjoy it every once in a while..."
+
I went to the Tyler James concert tonight... there are too many stories to pick just one right now. And my eyelids are powerful beasts.
"It's just weird, you know?"
Yeah...
-so easily-
and then braving the cold and the wind outside, scrawling messages with shaking fingers...
that shifted into a glass of wine, a cupcake and more biographicals and ideas...
"Our beliefs change to fit our actions when it should be the other way around."
...right? Oh man. You're right. Is what I said.
Well, maybe not completely but it could so easily be correct. We were discussing how our views change from when we first learn about things to now, when we do things.
"I will NEVER..." turns into "I enjoy it every once in a while..."
+
I went to the Tyler James concert tonight... there are too many stories to pick just one right now. And my eyelids are powerful beasts.
"It's just weird, you know?"
Yeah...
Oct 30, 2007
Family Order
An excellent, excellent edition of Time is the one with the kids on the cover. It wasn't a very long article, actually, for being the cover story... but it also has that short one about what meal famous chefs would choose for their last (I don't know why discussion about passionate cuisine and what we ate while growing up keeps tearing me up... what the hell?) and a conversation with Cormac McCarthy and Joel and Ethan Coen. Those guys are hilarious.
The family order basically stated that research and the escalating number of studies show that your place among your siblings really follows a trend. Like, startlingly. Of course, personality and ego both are prone to other factors: family income, neighborhood, parenting etc. But generally, the oldest is the biggest and most intelligent, most immunized and has the most scrapbook/memory photo albums made and the parents, I assume, decide that they are too tired for such things when the next children come along so they cut it out... but the younger kids notice! The oldest child is the most successful and, in the game of careers and life, wins the game because he/she is forced to step up as an authority and won the unbridled virgin affection of both parents alone... for awhile.
The middle child, assuming the first child was a good kid, rebels for attention by being a bad child. He/she also never has the parents alone because the oldest was there first and the youngest is usually around by the time the oldest moves out. So... the middle child is whatever goes. They didn't say too much... but it's almost a definite inferiority complex because the first child is so effin' successful academically, socially etc. etc. That prick.
The youngest child sometimes rebels from the middle child (or de-de-identifies, as the article put it) and behaves. Something else was said, something else was said, the youngest is most likely to take risks and take the most adventurous and passionate life of firefighter, artist, comedian etc.
So it makes sense that the oldest child scored the highest on the SAT's, flourished in school and church social groups and is a strong leader... that the middle child is a bit inclusive and withdrawn, reaching for more rigid academics (business and accounting and numbers equaling up!)... and the youngest child, um, wants to drop out and learn to write and be a photographer and take cooking classes while living in a commune and gardening.
Okay, so I said I want to drop out. That's not totally true. It's all true, there are significant shades of truth in everything of that sentence... and I think I'd be happy and find myself super defensive when people say, "Trust me; you'll be a lot happier if you stay in school." Okay. I am staying in school. Also. How do you know that? You don't know that! Why do I need a college education to be happy? I need to take these generals and spend my parents money, scholarships to learn, momentarily, the biology of the brain?
Well, I need a college education to get a job of any sort. Yes, I acknowledge that... but not any job of any sort. I'm not here to get the "new GED" though. I'm here, as I am (I hope) in every part of life to absorb every part of existence. As in, to learn.
And classes and learning make me happy, they feed me. But... well, I'm just thinking about the idea of a college where each student creates his/her own individual major, as in, there are no set curriculums or programs, but the mentors help you map out your semesters according to what kind of education you want. Every major is an individual study, custom designed. And I just spoke with a friend that is changing his major from Criminal Studies (which our college doesn't offer anymore) to Business... because he can do a lot with that... but he didn't sound too excited.
I'm not cut out to be a Lit. major. I knew this before but I really know it now. It has been decided.
I think my last meal would be Hae Dup Bap. Which, I know!, isn't Korean, but our family grew up eating sashimi and... it's so good. Don't know what it is?
There's fried rice (bokum bap) that is tasty and my dad is really good at making it. Taking steamed rice and adding shite to it and frying it all together...
A step up from that is bibim bap. It is like bokum, but you don't fry it. You add fresh vegetables and some cold cooked vegetables (ban chan) like zucchini to steamed rice and poach/fry an egg on top and mix it up with your chopsticks in sesame oil and red pepper paste (which is a marvelous invention). I've eaten it with eggplant in it and various mushrooms... usually there is some beef in too. Seriously... oh seriously.
Hae dup bap is pretty similar to that but instead of the beef is various sashimi (our family does salmon and red snapper... I think my mom has a specific affinity to that combination). And there's no egg and more of salad ingredients instead of eggplant, various sprouts etc. If my mom loves you, she'll cut up some nori over your bowl and, if she really loves you, she'll mix it for you and it will taste much better. Some greens, fresh jalapeno, sesame leaf, fish eggs, red pepper sauce and/or dynamite sauce, wasabi... the fish really makes the dish but if you have bad rice or then you have bad rice... and this isn't a Chinese restaurant! (We don't have Orange Chicken here, slut!) This is home, where we take our giant bowls out to the deck and sit, smelling the sesame growing from our garden and laughing.
Well... now I want to live somewhere on the coast. I love you, mom.
The family order basically stated that research and the escalating number of studies show that your place among your siblings really follows a trend. Like, startlingly. Of course, personality and ego both are prone to other factors: family income, neighborhood, parenting etc. But generally, the oldest is the biggest and most intelligent, most immunized and has the most scrapbook/memory photo albums made and the parents, I assume, decide that they are too tired for such things when the next children come along so they cut it out... but the younger kids notice! The oldest child is the most successful and, in the game of careers and life, wins the game because he/she is forced to step up as an authority and won the unbridled virgin affection of both parents alone... for awhile.
The middle child, assuming the first child was a good kid, rebels for attention by being a bad child. He/she also never has the parents alone because the oldest was there first and the youngest is usually around by the time the oldest moves out. So... the middle child is whatever goes. They didn't say too much... but it's almost a definite inferiority complex because the first child is so effin' successful academically, socially etc. etc. That prick.
The youngest child sometimes rebels from the middle child (or de-de-identifies, as the article put it) and behaves. Something else was said, something else was said, the youngest is most likely to take risks and take the most adventurous and passionate life of firefighter, artist, comedian etc.
So it makes sense that the oldest child scored the highest on the SAT's, flourished in school and church social groups and is a strong leader... that the middle child is a bit inclusive and withdrawn, reaching for more rigid academics (business and accounting and numbers equaling up!)... and the youngest child, um, wants to drop out and learn to write and be a photographer and take cooking classes while living in a commune and gardening.
Okay, so I said I want to drop out. That's not totally true. It's all true, there are significant shades of truth in everything of that sentence... and I think I'd be happy and find myself super defensive when people say, "Trust me; you'll be a lot happier if you stay in school." Okay. I am staying in school. Also. How do you know that? You don't know that! Why do I need a college education to be happy? I need to take these generals and spend my parents money, scholarships to learn, momentarily, the biology of the brain?
Well, I need a college education to get a job of any sort. Yes, I acknowledge that... but not any job of any sort. I'm not here to get the "new GED" though. I'm here, as I am (I hope) in every part of life to absorb every part of existence. As in, to learn.
And classes and learning make me happy, they feed me. But... well, I'm just thinking about the idea of a college where each student creates his/her own individual major, as in, there are no set curriculums or programs, but the mentors help you map out your semesters according to what kind of education you want. Every major is an individual study, custom designed. And I just spoke with a friend that is changing his major from Criminal Studies (which our college doesn't offer anymore) to Business... because he can do a lot with that... but he didn't sound too excited.
I'm not cut out to be a Lit. major. I knew this before but I really know it now. It has been decided.
I think my last meal would be Hae Dup Bap. Which, I know!, isn't Korean, but our family grew up eating sashimi and... it's so good. Don't know what it is?
There's fried rice (bokum bap) that is tasty and my dad is really good at making it. Taking steamed rice and adding shite to it and frying it all together...
A step up from that is bibim bap. It is like bokum, but you don't fry it. You add fresh vegetables and some cold cooked vegetables (ban chan) like zucchini to steamed rice and poach/fry an egg on top and mix it up with your chopsticks in sesame oil and red pepper paste (which is a marvelous invention). I've eaten it with eggplant in it and various mushrooms... usually there is some beef in too. Seriously... oh seriously.
Hae dup bap is pretty similar to that but instead of the beef is various sashimi (our family does salmon and red snapper... I think my mom has a specific affinity to that combination). And there's no egg and more of salad ingredients instead of eggplant, various sprouts etc. If my mom loves you, she'll cut up some nori over your bowl and, if she really loves you, she'll mix it for you and it will taste much better. Some greens, fresh jalapeno, sesame leaf, fish eggs, red pepper sauce and/or dynamite sauce, wasabi... the fish really makes the dish but if you have bad rice or then you have bad rice... and this isn't a Chinese restaurant! (We don't have Orange Chicken here, slut!) This is home, where we take our giant bowls out to the deck and sit, smelling the sesame growing from our garden and laughing.
Well... now I want to live somewhere on the coast. I love you, mom.
Oct 22, 2007
At 2 14 in the AM, now, I would light some candles, put some water on for tea and make something delicious and savory to eat
I would step outside with a clove and consider the stars
I would set some dough to rest for baking in the morning
I would relearn hand molds for minor chords and augmentations
I would sit, by candlelight, and read about Julia Child learning how to cook in France...
in a few years, when we all live together, on our piece of land, tending and giving back.
p.s. Can we raise lamb?
I would step outside with a clove and consider the stars
I would set some dough to rest for baking in the morning
I would relearn hand molds for minor chords and augmentations
I would sit, by candlelight, and read about Julia Child learning how to cook in France...
in a few years, when we all live together, on our piece of land, tending and giving back.
p.s. Can we raise lamb?
Oct 19, 2007
Maybe I'll come up with a title by the end
'Cause these don't necessarily have to be finished works, do they? They're blogs for crying out loud. Yes, it's communication and the written word and, as in all things, we have a responsibility to write our best and truest. Before every great work, however, there is planning and even brainstorming.
I contacted a few graphic design students to put together an image for the Faith and Film t shirt that will hopefully exist soon(ish). It was very exciting. I let them know what we needed/wanted, they let me know that they were interested and some of them began rough draft stuff. We got one image in already. From who? One of about five or six people involved. It wasn't right on the dot of what we were looking for. (Of course, we don't know yet what we're looking for, but we know it will be something amazing and beautiful - quality design.) It was satisfying to start a dialogue about the decisions they made, what the club is about etc. I hope dearly that she wasn't offended (I actually wrote the words, "Don't be discouraged" in my last reply) because it was a good initial try and she's a freshman and I don't think she has been to American Beauty or Whale Rider. So I sent her the constitution for the club, which is vague but gives a general idea of our intention, and invited her to see Virgin Suicides (Oct. 28th!). I hope she does and that she gets time to give it another shot. I'm sure she will and let me say, if it hasn't been inferred already, that I am super grateful for her enthusiasm and effort.
"Can you be friends with someone if... ... ...?"
"...at some point, I just confronted them and reminded them, 'Hello? She's a human being!'"
"Yeah, but what if..."
"I don't even think they realized that they were doing it..."
"...just tell them to bitch to someone else? Take it in without comment? Defend them?"
"Unless he's not especially picky about who his friends are."
Working at the Bean is the closest thing to being a bartender - which, I've found, is the most interesting and enjoyable jobs out there. You control music, people come to you to unwind and gather with friends and you provide them with a refreshing drink. It's not even that the drink is super comforting or caffeinated, but it is sustenance - it could very well be water that they're drinking (people should drink more water anyway) and they would be ready to do what they came to do.
Arcade Fire, Decemberists, Polyphonic Spree - I love these bands. And, sheesh, they all have like a lot of people involved in their performances. Well, I caught some of Decemberists on Austin City Limits and they had four or five members from the looks of it. The Polyphonic have... twenty three? Arcade Fire, when we saw them in St. Paul, had eleven or so. It was hard to tell 'cause they were all dancing and running around and changing instruments. I love Polyphonic and sing their songs a lot but 'Cade Fire and Decemberists definitely have a place in my top five albums. Crane Wife is in there... but, though I'm leaning more and more toward Neon Bible, I really love Funeral. It's a strange transition to become saturated with these two and a half (ie. a road trip to see Arcade Fire and playing Crane Wife dominantly in the ride to and from, in addition to Funeral/Neon Bible/single tracks of nostalgic stuff) and then listening to... I dunno... bands with drums and elec. guitar. Sufjan Stevens. John Wayne Gacy jr. is one hell of a song, and it's piano and guitar. And so is He Woke Me Up Again. But Chicago? Man of Metropolis? (to name a few!) it's... as much of a bastard this will make me out to be, it sounds like music. It's not pedestrian or done before or whatever. In addition! because a wide assortment of instruments alone doesn't make a great band, amazing amazing songs - lyrical style, energy, theme, conviction... it's much more of a dynamic challenge to put together an organ, two guitars, three violins, a keyboard, a french horn, accordion, everyone of them singing etc. than to place drums, guitar and bass together. Yes, drums and guitar and bass are super versatile but... how many bands do you hear that sound the same with drums and guitar and shit?
This has been Thursday. October 18, 2007. It has been cloudy and drizzling rain as have the past five or so days. Today has been a gift and I hope you have all ran with it. Praise God. Praise God for the people that make you who you are, for academic ability, for social effort and for orchestrating every second of every minute today.
I contacted a few graphic design students to put together an image for the Faith and Film t shirt that will hopefully exist soon(ish). It was very exciting. I let them know what we needed/wanted, they let me know that they were interested and some of them began rough draft stuff. We got one image in already. From who? One of about five or six people involved. It wasn't right on the dot of what we were looking for. (Of course, we don't know yet what we're looking for, but we know it will be something amazing and beautiful - quality design.) It was satisfying to start a dialogue about the decisions they made, what the club is about etc. I hope dearly that she wasn't offended (I actually wrote the words, "Don't be discouraged" in my last reply) because it was a good initial try and she's a freshman and I don't think she has been to American Beauty or Whale Rider. So I sent her the constitution for the club, which is vague but gives a general idea of our intention, and invited her to see Virgin Suicides (Oct. 28th!). I hope she does and that she gets time to give it another shot. I'm sure she will and let me say, if it hasn't been inferred already, that I am super grateful for her enthusiasm and effort.
"Can you be friends with someone if... ... ...?"
"...at some point, I just confronted them and reminded them, 'Hello? She's a human being!'"
"Yeah, but what if..."
"I don't even think they realized that they were doing it..."
"...just tell them to bitch to someone else? Take it in without comment? Defend them?"
"Unless he's not especially picky about who his friends are."
Working at the Bean is the closest thing to being a bartender - which, I've found, is the most interesting and enjoyable jobs out there. You control music, people come to you to unwind and gather with friends and you provide them with a refreshing drink. It's not even that the drink is super comforting or caffeinated, but it is sustenance - it could very well be water that they're drinking (people should drink more water anyway) and they would be ready to do what they came to do.
Arcade Fire, Decemberists, Polyphonic Spree - I love these bands. And, sheesh, they all have like a lot of people involved in their performances. Well, I caught some of Decemberists on Austin City Limits and they had four or five members from the looks of it. The Polyphonic have... twenty three? Arcade Fire, when we saw them in St. Paul, had eleven or so. It was hard to tell 'cause they were all dancing and running around and changing instruments. I love Polyphonic and sing their songs a lot but 'Cade Fire and Decemberists definitely have a place in my top five albums. Crane Wife is in there... but, though I'm leaning more and more toward Neon Bible, I really love Funeral. It's a strange transition to become saturated with these two and a half (ie. a road trip to see Arcade Fire and playing Crane Wife dominantly in the ride to and from, in addition to Funeral/Neon Bible/single tracks of nostalgic stuff) and then listening to... I dunno... bands with drums and elec. guitar. Sufjan Stevens. John Wayne Gacy jr. is one hell of a song, and it's piano and guitar. And so is He Woke Me Up Again. But Chicago? Man of Metropolis? (to name a few!) it's... as much of a bastard this will make me out to be, it sounds like music. It's not pedestrian or done before or whatever. In addition! because a wide assortment of instruments alone doesn't make a great band, amazing amazing songs - lyrical style, energy, theme, conviction... it's much more of a dynamic challenge to put together an organ, two guitars, three violins, a keyboard, a french horn, accordion, everyone of them singing etc. than to place drums, guitar and bass together. Yes, drums and guitar and bass are super versatile but... how many bands do you hear that sound the same with drums and guitar and shit?
This has been Thursday. October 18, 2007. It has been cloudy and drizzling rain as have the past five or so days. Today has been a gift and I hope you have all ran with it. Praise God. Praise God for the people that make you who you are, for academic ability, for social effort and for orchestrating every second of every minute today.
Oct 3, 2007
The last call for alcohol
Apparently in Iowa, you can get fired for absolutely anything. For any reason. OR, I assume, for no reason.
Fridley Theatres encourages questions and comments from the general public. Apparently, once you become an employee for Fridley Theatres, you are no longer general public and they withdraw their invitation to comment. Apparently, this falls under the 'absolutely anything' category from before.
Is my job at stake?
Sloan* and I have thought about quitting for... a very long time. But where could we work in town that was as slack and had as easy benefits? It's a horrible job for many reasons, but I think the worst part is that it spoiled us and kept us in this frame of mind that tells us, "Every job you have from here out should be this easy. Work lightly for about forty minutes, clean and sit around until the next shows start.
My friend had a brief discussion with his mother-his MOTHER-today. Said mother asked, without provocation, if this "Philip" kid (who is I!) was a cocky kid or what. Gerald* (friend) thought this to be surreal. When he related this to me, I felt a frozen faced confusion and utter, "Why does your mom think I'm cocky?!"
Okay, it bothered me a bit more than it should have. I don't think I'm cocky. And she admitted that she didn't know, but somehow I exuded such an attitude to her or to someone she knows or to someone that speaks in her range. I know, at best, of this woman. I know Gerald* and Gerald's* sister Annabelle* and Gerald's sister's husband Frank* better... and they love me!
This is a good time. The smell of coffee is in the air, another journey (Yes! Another one!) awaits me and the White Album is playing. I have two beautiful friends with me. I have, tomorrow, the open road and an excited girl running to an excited family and I just have to feed from their energy and be conscious of life.
I realized that I've been doing a horrible job of this lately. It's been a mindless droning about, an almost comatose state where I would be without my being aware. It's not how I want to live.
*guises
Fridley Theatres encourages questions and comments from the general public. Apparently, once you become an employee for Fridley Theatres, you are no longer general public and they withdraw their invitation to comment. Apparently, this falls under the 'absolutely anything' category from before.
Is my job at stake?
Sloan* and I have thought about quitting for... a very long time. But where could we work in town that was as slack and had as easy benefits? It's a horrible job for many reasons, but I think the worst part is that it spoiled us and kept us in this frame of mind that tells us, "Every job you have from here out should be this easy. Work lightly for about forty minutes, clean and sit around until the next shows start.
My friend had a brief discussion with his mother-his MOTHER-today. Said mother asked, without provocation, if this "Philip" kid (who is I!) was a cocky kid or what. Gerald* (friend) thought this to be surreal. When he related this to me, I felt a frozen faced confusion and utter, "Why does your mom think I'm cocky?!"
Okay, it bothered me a bit more than it should have. I don't think I'm cocky. And she admitted that she didn't know, but somehow I exuded such an attitude to her or to someone she knows or to someone that speaks in her range. I know, at best, of this woman. I know Gerald* and Gerald's* sister Annabelle* and Gerald's sister's husband Frank* better... and they love me!
This is a good time. The smell of coffee is in the air, another journey (Yes! Another one!) awaits me and the White Album is playing. I have two beautiful friends with me. I have, tomorrow, the open road and an excited girl running to an excited family and I just have to feed from their energy and be conscious of life.
I realized that I've been doing a horrible job of this lately. It's been a mindless droning about, an almost comatose state where I would be without my being aware. It's not how I want to live.
*guises
Oct 1, 2007
According to BBC
I don't know what the average college student uses for current events and news.
For myself, I think it's mostly the BBC news site, the Time magazine I pick up from our house every once in a while and the Argus leader (which, I know, is not the greatest newspaper, but it's free and litters the student center).
Right. I don't remember who or where but it was sometime recently... oh I DO remember who and where! It was in Eng. 200 and Prof. Schelhaas started with an article written about why we should have a draft for Iraq. I think he did it mostly to wake people up and start a discussion. This douchebag who thinks I'm his friend spewed some completely irrelevant and untrue thoughts - blah blah - and Schelhaas patiently waited the shit storm out.
He then asked, "Have you been following the war in Iraq?"
Douchebag: Ha! No. Hahahaa! *Look around for apathetic douchebag behavior approval*
There are some idiots out there...
Um, no. But listen! Have you been following the war in Iraq at all? The meeting of the Koreas? The Burmese protest?
According to BBC, stories about the Burmese monks being detained, the Korean summit and Zimbabwe's flour shortage all took a back seat to
1) Spears loses custody of children
How many of you know the situation with Britney Spears? Show of hands!
How many of you knew about the protests that both monks and civilians assembled in Burma? Who knows who Aung San Suu Kyi is?
Who can give another piece of information from North Korea other than that, "They're crazy! They're crazy! They all want to kill us! No! Seriously!"
(Not an exaggeration. Almost word for word, what a co worker spewed after I had said that I was Korean. Of course, another high schooler asked me if I were North or South Korean and before I could answer, the frenzy began.)
And it wears me out.
For myself, I think it's mostly the BBC news site, the Time magazine I pick up from our house every once in a while and the Argus leader (which, I know, is not the greatest newspaper, but it's free and litters the student center).
Right. I don't remember who or where but it was sometime recently... oh I DO remember who and where! It was in Eng. 200 and Prof. Schelhaas started with an article written about why we should have a draft for Iraq. I think he did it mostly to wake people up and start a discussion. This douchebag who thinks I'm his friend spewed some completely irrelevant and untrue thoughts - blah blah - and Schelhaas patiently waited the shit storm out.
He then asked, "Have you been following the war in Iraq?"
Douchebag: Ha! No. Hahahaa! *Look around for apathetic douchebag behavior approval*
There are some idiots out there...
Um, no. But listen! Have you been following the war in Iraq at all? The meeting of the Koreas? The Burmese protest?
According to BBC, stories about the Burmese monks being detained, the Korean summit and Zimbabwe's flour shortage all took a back seat to
1) Spears loses custody of children
How many of you know the situation with Britney Spears? Show of hands!
How many of you knew about the protests that both monks and civilians assembled in Burma? Who knows who Aung San Suu Kyi is?
Who can give another piece of information from North Korea other than that, "They're crazy! They're crazy! They all want to kill us! No! Seriously!"
(Not an exaggeration. Almost word for word, what a co worker spewed after I had said that I was Korean. Of course, another high schooler asked me if I were North or South Korean and before I could answer, the frenzy began.)
And it wears me out.
Sep 28, 2007
Decisions
I spent a long time playing Rook in the Bean and we were near a few people vigorously studying what Andy Schroed and I had to yet. It escalated and we were, eventually, flanked then surrounded almost completely. And their sound was monstrous with brain vocab. I have two classes tomorrow. I have Modern British Lit. and I have Psych 201. I have a great, intimidating and fantastic time in Lit and a boring time in Psych - this is mostly because the intro. to Psych revolves about brain anatomy.
There is a test/exam in Psych tomorrow and, because it is a required general, a lot of people were anxious and stressed out. I found myself, after finishing the game, reading through my British Lit and enjoying it, absorbing it, savoring it and finishing it as the rest of the Bean finished studying for Psych and headed to sleep. I, at the moment, have read through the text and will decipher individual brain functions and apply ideas before I head to bed.
As a few friends bade goodnight, I exchanged some words with a certain individual who - and we all know these words - expressed that while he wanted to do well in this class that is required and not his major and, in specific brain anatomy, useless to him after he receives a passing grade, it was taking the toll out of his energy. Said energy was reserved for the classes he is taking for his major. I nodded, completely understanding his somewhat ironic situation and my heart went out to him.
But as he left and I turned back to my seat, I realized that in knowing his position, I did not completely share it. I am taking six courses this semester, three credits each, eighteen credits total.
Modern British Lit.
*Intro. Psych
*American Lit.
Adv. Film Editing
*Intro. Philosophy
Adv. Photography (* required for all undergrads)
My major is English: Writing. I am interested in Philosophy as I do acknowledge the basic questions that plague every mind that is not asleep. And every time I step into both Film and Photo, I seriously consider double majoring in English and Film or English and Photo (even though there is no Film or Photography major). Psych is, definitely, the class I am least interested in because of the foundation of brain anatomy.
I realized that I had already decided to not take the course too seriously... with some reservations. I have a semi-basic academic scholarship (strictly not a big deal) that is a blessing and a gift and an enormous help, as long as I maintain a 3.0 GPA. Otherwise, I could not care less what number is calculated and assigned to my current learning efficiency.
The first semester of last year, I took five classes and fifteen credits. Taking all but one required courses and maintained a bored B average. I was bored with the class material, finding solace only in the fact that I was suffering with the camaraderie of other students.
The next semester, I took five and a half courses. One and a half of them were required and the rest were upper level and strictly FOR ME courses (The Short Story, Broadcast Production, Heresies and Sects, Photo I). And, to put it bluntly, I frickin' thrived. I performed the bare minimum in my required courses and dived into
what I decided to take. I loved it.
I know I "should care more about my academics" in general. I've been told that my entire life. But I've also been told, for just as long, that I was going to make one hell of a medical doctor (nay, that I HAVE to make one hell of a medical doctor) and then, when that dream went to piss, that I am borderline required to attend grad school. Hear this. I am not the kind of student that can choose what he cares about. Does that, generally, make me a bad student? I'm sure the prof. who teaches the required courses doesn't appreciate it too much, but I don't know many profs who enjoy teaching required courses - I know my dad doesn't. Also, I acknowledge the fact that I still do learn much from Phil and Psych (and DID learn important things in the science courses I took and satisfied), don't get me wrong. I am, however, finite. And with a full work load, I will prioritize as I see fit. I, myself, happen to place a good conversation that stimulates such a long-winded, overdue blog than to immediately study for a general class test involving the section of brain anatomy. I attended the brief review session with the prof's TA and she, a psych major, told us repeatedly that unless you are going specifically into Bio Psychology, you will never need to use this info. She doesn't and she is a Psych major. I had thought we were finished asking when we would ever use what they tried to teach us in middle school, then high school, but it followed us here.
One last quick, beautiful part of my night.
Another friend came and touched bases with me. She works much more diligently and efficiently than I do, at all times, and I am glad that I get to see her as much as I do (which isn't that much at all, but it is when you consider schedules). And somehow in our conversation, she semi-lamented as to how she is not allowed the time or energy to take an elective, play her violin, sing in the two choirs she is in. I think it is important to say that she does not regret this fact, her decision in her life in these months, but I feel I must say, because she might feel, that she does regret this lack of freedom and wiggle room in such an energetic time of growth in a human.
"At least you'll have a job when you graduate."
Which, she knows and appreciates and acknowledges, but she assured me that, because I'm such a smart guy, that I would to. And that I would love it. And that if I didn't find one very quickly, I'd be okay.
Now... about the medulla.
There is a test/exam in Psych tomorrow and, because it is a required general, a lot of people were anxious and stressed out. I found myself, after finishing the game, reading through my British Lit and enjoying it, absorbing it, savoring it and finishing it as the rest of the Bean finished studying for Psych and headed to sleep. I, at the moment, have read through the text and will decipher individual brain functions and apply ideas before I head to bed.
As a few friends bade goodnight, I exchanged some words with a certain individual who - and we all know these words - expressed that while he wanted to do well in this class that is required and not his major and, in specific brain anatomy, useless to him after he receives a passing grade, it was taking the toll out of his energy. Said energy was reserved for the classes he is taking for his major. I nodded, completely understanding his somewhat ironic situation and my heart went out to him.
But as he left and I turned back to my seat, I realized that in knowing his position, I did not completely share it. I am taking six courses this semester, three credits each, eighteen credits total.
Modern British Lit.
*Intro. Psych
*American Lit.
Adv. Film Editing
*Intro. Philosophy
Adv. Photography (* required for all undergrads)
My major is English: Writing. I am interested in Philosophy as I do acknowledge the basic questions that plague every mind that is not asleep. And every time I step into both Film and Photo, I seriously consider double majoring in English and Film or English and Photo (even though there is no Film or Photography major). Psych is, definitely, the class I am least interested in because of the foundation of brain anatomy.
I realized that I had already decided to not take the course too seriously... with some reservations. I have a semi-basic academic scholarship (strictly not a big deal) that is a blessing and a gift and an enormous help, as long as I maintain a 3.0 GPA. Otherwise, I could not care less what number is calculated and assigned to my current learning efficiency.
The first semester of last year, I took five classes and fifteen credits. Taking all but one required courses and maintained a bored B average. I was bored with the class material, finding solace only in the fact that I was suffering with the camaraderie of other students.
The next semester, I took five and a half courses. One and a half of them were required and the rest were upper level and strictly FOR ME courses (The Short Story, Broadcast Production, Heresies and Sects, Photo I). And, to put it bluntly, I frickin' thrived. I performed the bare minimum in my required courses and dived into
what I decided to take. I loved it.
I know I "should care more about my academics" in general. I've been told that my entire life. But I've also been told, for just as long, that I was going to make one hell of a medical doctor (nay, that I HAVE to make one hell of a medical doctor) and then, when that dream went to piss, that I am borderline required to attend grad school. Hear this. I am not the kind of student that can choose what he cares about. Does that, generally, make me a bad student? I'm sure the prof. who teaches the required courses doesn't appreciate it too much, but I don't know many profs who enjoy teaching required courses - I know my dad doesn't. Also, I acknowledge the fact that I still do learn much from Phil and Psych (and DID learn important things in the science courses I took and satisfied), don't get me wrong. I am, however, finite. And with a full work load, I will prioritize as I see fit. I, myself, happen to place a good conversation that stimulates such a long-winded, overdue blog than to immediately study for a general class test involving the section of brain anatomy. I attended the brief review session with the prof's TA and she, a psych major, told us repeatedly that unless you are going specifically into Bio Psychology, you will never need to use this info. She doesn't and she is a Psych major. I had thought we were finished asking when we would ever use what they tried to teach us in middle school, then high school, but it followed us here.
One last quick, beautiful part of my night.
Another friend came and touched bases with me. She works much more diligently and efficiently than I do, at all times, and I am glad that I get to see her as much as I do (which isn't that much at all, but it is when you consider schedules). And somehow in our conversation, she semi-lamented as to how she is not allowed the time or energy to take an elective, play her violin, sing in the two choirs she is in. I think it is important to say that she does not regret this fact, her decision in her life in these months, but I feel I must say, because she might feel, that she does regret this lack of freedom and wiggle room in such an energetic time of growth in a human.
"At least you'll have a job when you graduate."
Which, she knows and appreciates and acknowledges, but she assured me that, because I'm such a smart guy, that I would to. And that I would love it. And that if I didn't find one very quickly, I'd be okay.
Now... about the medulla.
Sep 20, 2007
What I told the stranger that was so ludicrous.
Renae gave me another marriage talk. This makes it about two and a half times now... but who's counting? The freaked out, untamed, unwhipped boyfriend. That's who.
So... um. It was actually pretty calm, the entire ordeal. We were garage sale-ing and God was happy with us because there were PUPPIES at our first stop!
... ...I think it would be necessary at this point to defend the honor of pugs. When you're looking at puppies, they are bumbling over each other and falling down, tripping on their own ears and eagerly sniffing your fingers, then licking your fingers, then sneezing. It's precious. And you fight back the urge to baby talk... well, some of us do. I don't think baby talk and puppy talk are mutually exclusive, but they may as well be. There were two cages. One of pugs and the other of... some sort of larger, fluffier pups. Personally, I'm a big fan of pugs at both the puppy and pissed off old tiny creature. It's all good. The fluffy puppies already looked like they were old and dying. Who wants a creature that's supposedly old and dying without the years of development and companionship? Weirdos. That's who. That's some cold shit, man.
Also. The fluffy ones weren't as active; they did not trip over each other to investigate the puppy talking Asian kid on the other side of the cage.
...there were puppies. I'll pick it up from there next time.
So... um. It was actually pretty calm, the entire ordeal. We were garage sale-ing and God was happy with us because there were PUPPIES at our first stop!
... ...I think it would be necessary at this point to defend the honor of pugs. When you're looking at puppies, they are bumbling over each other and falling down, tripping on their own ears and eagerly sniffing your fingers, then licking your fingers, then sneezing. It's precious. And you fight back the urge to baby talk... well, some of us do. I don't think baby talk and puppy talk are mutually exclusive, but they may as well be. There were two cages. One of pugs and the other of... some sort of larger, fluffier pups. Personally, I'm a big fan of pugs at both the puppy and pissed off old tiny creature. It's all good. The fluffy puppies already looked like they were old and dying. Who wants a creature that's supposedly old and dying without the years of development and companionship? Weirdos. That's who. That's some cold shit, man.
Also. The fluffy ones weren't as active; they did not trip over each other to investigate the puppy talking Asian kid on the other side of the cage.
...there were puppies. I'll pick it up from there next time.
Sep 13, 2007
I told a stranger because it was ludicrous.
Renae gave me another marriage talk. This makes it about two and a half times now... but who's counting? The freaked out, untamed, unwhipped boyfriend. That's who.
So... um. It was actually pretty calm, the entire ordeal. We were garage sale-ing and God was happy with us because there were PUPPIES at our first stop!
...um. I'm going to try and organize my thoughts and figure this out later.
Enjoy!
So... um. It was actually pretty calm, the entire ordeal. We were garage sale-ing and God was happy with us because there were PUPPIES at our first stop!
...um. I'm going to try and organize my thoughts and figure this out later.
Enjoy!
Jul 19, 2007
Realizations both loud and silent
Holy Crap! They're playing Gangs of New York on TV! So badass and huge!
Oh... that's why. He has a crush on her. He has a crush on my mom.
My foot is all bloody. Huh.
They cut... everything!
Oh... that's why. He has a crush on her. He has a crush on my mom.
My foot is all bloody. Huh.
They cut... everything!
Jun 26, 2007
I had a dream that Sioux Center had a lot more people than it does now. It was far from being a large city; the streets were a it more dense and concentrated with small businesses. The point is, we found a tea house that was open all night. Isn't that awesome? It was a small place. I think it was called, in my dream, Bogenrief's but I know that that is the name of the stained glass school out past Alton. Anywho. The place was tiny and the lady was this really passionate lady who informed us that she had a lot more tea than was just listed on the blackboard. There was an enormous selection of leaves behind those dark cherry drawers and shelves. I went there three times in one night of my dream.
Jun 22, 2007
Jun 11, 2007
And all that I ever wanted
Was a chance to catch my breath
To see the world go by
And lay my ghosts to rest
-
Don't do me any favors by telling me
that you love me when you don't
or
that you don't love me
when
you do.
-
All I ever wanted was
To feel the way you feel
All I ever wanted was
A chance to make it real
-
And ask me tomorrow what I thought
of yesterday
There's so many things that
I could not explain
I'm alone with you
-
I have my next painting or sculpture idea.
(This is because I generally don't like/am not good at staging photographs.)
Honestly, the best way to describe it is this way I think.
\ |
Remember angles? Yeah... shit, this is going to be associated with math.
Was a chance to catch my breath
To see the world go by
And lay my ghosts to rest
-
Don't do me any favors by telling me
that you love me when you don't
or
that you don't love me
when
you do.
-
All I ever wanted was
To feel the way you feel
All I ever wanted was
A chance to make it real
-
And ask me tomorrow what I thought
of yesterday
There's so many things that
I could not explain
I'm alone with you
-
I have my next painting or sculpture idea.
(This is because I generally don't like/am not good at staging photographs.)
Honestly, the best way to describe it is this way I think.
\ |
Remember angles? Yeah... shit, this is going to be associated with math.
Jun 10, 2007
I used to write. As in, I used to be a writer and it wasn't too terribly long ago that I used to be a mediocre, promising writer. There was a time when craft existed, in union with communication. That time wasn't so long ago. Perhaps things will change for myself to turn toward that direction... again.
Also, I bought three rolls of film. One of them is loaded into the new camera. Two shots have been taken. That is all.
Yes. Yes? No? No. Yes. No. No? Okay. No. Mistake?
Also, I bought three rolls of film. One of them is loaded into the new camera. Two shots have been taken. That is all.
Yes. Yes? No? No. Yes. No. No? Okay. No. Mistake?
May 27, 2007
To my girlfriend who has a phobia of porn groove...
I was burning a cd of pictures for my cousin when I looked up and the movie Ice Princess was playing. The young, wholesome... girl, Michelle Trachtenevergonnagetgonnorhea was leaving a meeting with her physics teacher. She is, in the movie, a smart, nerd-ish type (referred to in the movie as "a science geek") and she and her friend both stop cold in the busy high school hallway as a popular girl looks at them. Said popular girl-the little girl in Remember the Titans, I think... yeah! Hayden Panettiere!-she walks over toward them, IN SLOW MOTION, smiling like a prom queen. CUE THE PORN GROOVE!
Isn't that crazy?!
They put in porn groove there! It's a Disney movie! ...oh yeah ...it's a Disney movie.
"You're not like the other girls, Gen. Winners make sacrifices."
Faaantastic. AND these girls are total bitches.
...but the porn groove! Bum chicka chicka wah-waaaah... It was hilarious!
+
For the sake of comparison, here are the stats for Calvin College.
Top Music Top Music
Calvin / Dordt
1 U2 -- 1 Muse
2 Coldplay -- 2 Yellowcard
3 Jack Johnson -- 3 U2
4 The Fray -- 4 Panic! At the Disco
5 Radiohead -- 5 Johnny Cash
6 The Killers -- 6 Jet
7 Red Hot Chili Peppers -- 7 Jars of Clay
8 Rascal Flatts -- 8 Hinder
9 Goo Goo Dolls --9 Fall Out Boy
10 Fall Out --10 Death Cab for Cutie
Top Movies Top Movies
Calvin / Dordt
1 The Princess Bride -- 1 Gladiator
2 The Notebook -- 2 Braveheart
3 Pirates Of The Caribbean -- 3 John Tucker Must Die
4 V For Vendetta -- 4 Fight Club
5 Pride And Prejudice -- 5 Anchorman
6 Lord Of The Rings -- 6 Forrest Gump
7 Garden State -- 7 Elf
8 Fight Club -- 8 Dumb and Dumber
9 Beauty And The Beast -- 9 Bruce Almighty
10 Anchorman -- 10 Boondock Saints
Top Books Top Books
Calvin / Dordt
1 The Bible -- 1 The Bible
2 Harry Potter -- 2 Karen Kingsbury
3 Lord Of The Rings -- 3 Anything by John Grisham
4 Blue Like Jazz -- 4 Anything by Shakespeare
5 Mere Christianity -- 5 Anything by Dee Henderson OR Karen Kingsbury
6 To Kill A Mockingbird -- 6 Any Christian Romance Novel
7 The Brothers K -- 7 And Picture Books :)
8 Pride And Prejudice -- 8 And Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte is Great
9 The Atonement Child -- 9 And Harry Potter
10 Chronicles Of Narnia -- 10 And Anything on the History of Hockey or Player Autobiographies
Isn't that crazy?!
They put in porn groove there! It's a Disney movie! ...oh yeah ...it's a Disney movie.
"You're not like the other girls, Gen. Winners make sacrifices."
Faaantastic. AND these girls are total bitches.
...but the porn groove! Bum chicka chicka wah-waaaah... It was hilarious!
+
For the sake of comparison, here are the stats for Calvin College.
Top Music Top Music
Calvin / Dordt
1 U2 -- 1 Muse
2 Coldplay -- 2 Yellowcard
3 Jack Johnson -- 3 U2
4 The Fray -- 4 Panic! At the Disco
5 Radiohead -- 5 Johnny Cash
6 The Killers -- 6 Jet
7 Red Hot Chili Peppers -- 7 Jars of Clay
8 Rascal Flatts -- 8 Hinder
9 Goo Goo Dolls --9 Fall Out Boy
10 Fall Out --10 Death Cab for Cutie
Top Movies Top Movies
Calvin / Dordt
1 The Princess Bride -- 1 Gladiator
2 The Notebook -- 2 Braveheart
3 Pirates Of The Caribbean -- 3 John Tucker Must Die
4 V For Vendetta -- 4 Fight Club
5 Pride And Prejudice -- 5 Anchorman
6 Lord Of The Rings -- 6 Forrest Gump
7 Garden State -- 7 Elf
8 Fight Club -- 8 Dumb and Dumber
9 Beauty And The Beast -- 9 Bruce Almighty
10 Anchorman -- 10 Boondock Saints
Top Books Top Books
Calvin / Dordt
1 The Bible -- 1 The Bible
2 Harry Potter -- 2 Karen Kingsbury
3 Lord Of The Rings -- 3 Anything by John Grisham
4 Blue Like Jazz -- 4 Anything by Shakespeare
5 Mere Christianity -- 5 Anything by Dee Henderson OR Karen Kingsbury
6 To Kill A Mockingbird -- 6 Any Christian Romance Novel
7 The Brothers K -- 7 And Picture Books :)
8 Pride And Prejudice -- 8 And Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte is Great
9 The Atonement Child -- 9 And Harry Potter
10 Chronicles Of Narnia -- 10 And Anything on the History of Hockey or Player Autobiographies
May 25, 2007
May 16, 2007
Northrop Auditorium
Forgive me, I'm thinking about the money.
Damien Rice performing in Minneapolis was amazing. There was, note, no void due to Lisa Hanigan's absence, but we were hoping for her siren voice. Fantastic show--one of the best.
More coming.
Damien Rice performing in Minneapolis was amazing. There was, note, no void due to Lisa Hanigan's absence, but we were hoping for her siren voice. Fantastic show--one of the best.
More coming.
May 12, 2007
Stats (Stats mean nows!)
I know it's the end of the year and all that...
and if/when I hear about people bitchin' about being SO LOST without their Dordt friends, Imma be pissed.
But it looks like something else beat me to the punch.
According to the Dordt Network on facebook...
Top Books (for those in the Dordt College network):
1. The Bible
2. Karen Kingsbury
3. Anything by John Grisham
4. Anything by Shakespeare
5. Anything by Dee Henderson OR Karen Kingsbury
6. Any Christian Romance Novel
7. And Picture Books :)
8. And Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte is Great
9. And Harry Potter
10. And Anything on the History of Hockey or Player Autobiographies
...Ok, that last one is funny, but I'm disgusted.
Top Music:
1. Muse
2. Yellowcard
3. U2
4. Panic! At The Disco
5. Johnny Cash
6. Jet
7. Jars of Clay
8. Hinder
9. Fall Out Boy
10. Death Cab For Cutie
Top Movies:
1. Gladiator
2. Braveheart
3. John Tucker Must Die
4. Fight Club
5. Anchorman
6. Forrest Gump
7. Elf
8. Dumb and Dumber
9. Bruce Almighty
10. Boondock Saints
And this isn't a whole, "Sorry I don't have the same exact tastes as you, Alvin!"
Instead of bitching about me pointing out how much you suck, why do you read shitty literature? This... will be an ongoing post. The funny thing is that "music" came in 2nd place on the Top Interests (right below "shopping") and reading came in 4th.
and if/when I hear about people bitchin' about being SO LOST without their Dordt friends, Imma be pissed.
But it looks like something else beat me to the punch.
According to the Dordt Network on facebook...
Top Books (for those in the Dordt College network):
1. The Bible
2. Karen Kingsbury
3. Anything by John Grisham
4. Anything by Shakespeare
5. Anything by Dee Henderson OR Karen Kingsbury
6. Any Christian Romance Novel
7. And Picture Books :)
8. And Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte is Great
9. And Harry Potter
10. And Anything on the History of Hockey or Player Autobiographies
...Ok, that last one is funny, but I'm disgusted.
Top Music:
1. Muse
2. Yellowcard
3. U2
4. Panic! At The Disco
5. Johnny Cash
6. Jet
7. Jars of Clay
8. Hinder
9. Fall Out Boy
10. Death Cab For Cutie
Top Movies:
1. Gladiator
2. Braveheart
3. John Tucker Must Die
4. Fight Club
5. Anchorman
6. Forrest Gump
7. Elf
8. Dumb and Dumber
9. Bruce Almighty
10. Boondock Saints
And this isn't a whole, "Sorry I don't have the same exact tastes as you, Alvin!"
Instead of bitching about me pointing out how much you suck, why do you read shitty literature? This... will be an ongoing post. The funny thing is that "music" came in 2nd place on the Top Interests (right below "shopping") and reading came in 4th.
May 8, 2007
Softer than the rain
I'm going to pursue this photography thing.
In addition to writing. I like challenges.
Illicit, and esoterically so.
But EVERYTHING IS FINE, as I've said before.
It's well past two A.M.
I've slowed, from sprint, to run and am jogging now.
I still can.
Cults off of the orthodox church,
compositions composed of tone and shadow
or
an invigorating head start on all of it, in who cares what order?
Tomorrow holds more challenges.
Tomorrow it is.
Fine. Try it.
*crash
In addition to writing. I like challenges.
Illicit, and esoterically so.
But EVERYTHING IS FINE, as I've said before.
It's well past two A.M.
I've slowed, from sprint, to run and am jogging now.
I still can.
Cults off of the orthodox church,
compositions composed of tone and shadow
or
an invigorating head start on all of it, in who cares what order?
Tomorrow holds more challenges.
Tomorrow it is.
Fine. Try it.
*crash
May 7, 2007
Tobey Maguire
I hate him.
And, generally, everyone else in/involved with the Spiderman movies.
Except for Willem Dafoe. But I really hate Tobey Maguire.
And, generally, everyone else in/involved with the Spiderman movies.
Except for Willem Dafoe. But I really hate Tobey Maguire.
Apr 26, 2007
Typewriter, Post-its, the back of a Decemberists CD and one severely damaged negative
Father in Heaven, what time did I start in here? I've finished enlarging a variety of prints for the collage assignment. My fingers are wrinkly from dipping into the chemicals so often. It's a different state of mind after every hour past the third one. The crazy thing is... I only printed about twelve or so shots from the two rolls (only) I took of my typewriter. Looking at the handful of prints hanging, I regret not taking just one more roll of shots to get even more angles and distances.
At one point, the song had ended and I heard a faint beeping noise. It sounded like a phone that has an unread text message waiting. The pipes never sound like that, so I grabbed my cell and keys and walked outside where the beeping turned into the fire alarm for the campus center. If the song hadn't ended, I would not have heard it. If there were an actual fire, I would be toast...
Relating this to Lynda a few minutes after coming back in, I told her that "it wouldn't be a bad way to go... burned among the photos that I spent six hours to print, about $30 for paper, and about four more hours to shoot and develop the negatives. Also, this tiny, secret darkroom would be dedicated in my memory for sure.
I had two lattes and a bottle of water. I'm starting to feel a bit woozy. I've got miles to go, still, before I sleep. Tomorrow will be more difficult, tomorrow will make me a man.
At one point, the song had ended and I heard a faint beeping noise. It sounded like a phone that has an unread text message waiting. The pipes never sound like that, so I grabbed my cell and keys and walked outside where the beeping turned into the fire alarm for the campus center. If the song hadn't ended, I would not have heard it. If there were an actual fire, I would be toast...
Relating this to Lynda a few minutes after coming back in, I told her that "it wouldn't be a bad way to go... burned among the photos that I spent six hours to print, about $30 for paper, and about four more hours to shoot and develop the negatives. Also, this tiny, secret darkroom would be dedicated in my memory for sure.
I had two lattes and a bottle of water. I'm starting to feel a bit woozy. I've got miles to go, still, before I sleep. Tomorrow will be more difficult, tomorrow will make me a man.
Apr 22, 2007
Will my car be fixed and operational by Tuesday? Can I pick up my computer in Sioux Falls by then? Will I have finished my essay by Tuesday? Do I have enough money in my bank account? What do I have to do tomorrow? What should I be doing, for tomorrow, today? What should I be doing today, for today? Why do I have to work with complete idiots? Why is my manager a psycho? Won't you let me walk away? She should just... I should just,
"Every one of you is fired."
I want to just,
Zip, zip, "Fuck you."
Ha! I wrote a short story in high school about a man hanging himself and the teacher contacted the counselor who, in turn, contacted the Inspiration Hills camp group for troubled teens and what. So... I spent a weekend on the high ropes course and incense-confession-crying sessions back-to-back. You know, "Alright Alvin! Way to face your fears! Let's go light this stick of cinnamon wild berry and have a talk! ...okay, I think we've made some progress! Let's grab some pulleys! Wrap this around your crotch!" Back and forth. Once you've completed one part of the high ropes course, you don't really have any more fear. And when you can smell the cinnamon wildberry on the high ropes and Steve! is staring at you for hours on end, you end up making shit up in order to get him off your back. "Uhh yeah. I never really wanted to pee. I just always liked the feeling of holding it in and then losing control and it exploding... is that weird? Sometimes, I smell myself."
Some people don't like confrontations. Did you know that? "Maybe it'll go away... if someone had a problem with me--and I'm sure someone does--then I wouldn't want to know about it. That'd be horrible!" Ha! Oh dear.
It's cold today, but yesterday--yesterday night even--was warm.
In an outburst of violence, he wrote, "Get busy and kill them! Kill them! The quicker the better! I mean if they can't stand the truth they ought to die and be dead! Let's hope maybe they'll go to Heaven and not to Hell!"
David "Moses" Berg of the Children of God cult. Sick motherfucker.
"Every one of you is fired."
I want to just,
Zip, zip, "Fuck you."
Ha! I wrote a short story in high school about a man hanging himself and the teacher contacted the counselor who, in turn, contacted the Inspiration Hills camp group for troubled teens and what. So... I spent a weekend on the high ropes course and incense-confession-crying sessions back-to-back. You know, "Alright Alvin! Way to face your fears! Let's go light this stick of cinnamon wild berry and have a talk! ...okay, I think we've made some progress! Let's grab some pulleys! Wrap this around your crotch!" Back and forth. Once you've completed one part of the high ropes course, you don't really have any more fear. And when you can smell the cinnamon wildberry on the high ropes and Steve! is staring at you for hours on end, you end up making shit up in order to get him off your back. "Uhh yeah. I never really wanted to pee. I just always liked the feeling of holding it in and then losing control and it exploding... is that weird? Sometimes, I smell myself."
Some people don't like confrontations. Did you know that? "Maybe it'll go away... if someone had a problem with me--and I'm sure someone does--then I wouldn't want to know about it. That'd be horrible!" Ha! Oh dear.
It's cold today, but yesterday--yesterday night even--was warm.
In an outburst of violence, he wrote, "Get busy and kill them! Kill them! The quicker the better! I mean if they can't stand the truth they ought to die and be dead! Let's hope maybe they'll go to Heaven and not to Hell!"
David "Moses" Berg of the Children of God cult. Sick motherfucker.
Apr 11, 2007
Six... almost seven hours of sleep coming
"Giddy as a schoolboy."
Hehheheh... yeah, I've heard it before. I heard it back in February. I don't know. I don't know. You know? It's... satisfying. I'm sorry; I should be able to describe it in more words. Maybe throw in some sentences... or phrases even. With or without some imagery. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say. But I do have this unstoppable grin on my face.
It seems it's always the crazy times, but the best thing about being a giddy schoolboy is that time where time steps aside and makes way for timelessness. And just sitting there and even the pauses in between conversation transcends schedule and assignments and activity. And leaving that time Oh! leaving! is like a very, very funny joke played on you. And you're laughing and in high spirits but you're upset that it was against you. And I'm happy thinking about it, but sad that it's over and I'm heading back to the mode where I am in one place, but anxious about what I have to do next.
And you give yourself to these things, getting up constantly to face more and more. Because I feed off of it. And pushing myself to the limit is how to handle it. The white flag and punking out is not a way to handle it. Just run and run and run and recharge... then run some more.
But I realized that I smile more. And when I'm doubled over, aching and dry heaving in pain; I'm thinking about what it will be like after, when it's over and I won. And how I will be different because of it.
And when I walk into my dorm--at the end of sprint #1 and at the beginning of spring #2--I'm smiling.
And those idiots are counting the days down until we're done.
Note: This is not to antagonize the schedule, assignments or activities. On the contrary, the schedule, assignments and activities are the reason I--and you--are here at this place called higher education. And I'm calling you an idiot to your face if you're paying however much we're all paying and still taking it easy and in apathy.
Hehheheh... yeah, I've heard it before. I heard it back in February. I don't know. I don't know. You know? It's... satisfying. I'm sorry; I should be able to describe it in more words. Maybe throw in some sentences... or phrases even. With or without some imagery. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say. But I do have this unstoppable grin on my face.
It seems it's always the crazy times, but the best thing about being a giddy schoolboy is that time where time steps aside and makes way for timelessness. And just sitting there and even the pauses in between conversation transcends schedule and assignments and activity. And leaving that time Oh! leaving! is like a very, very funny joke played on you. And you're laughing and in high spirits but you're upset that it was against you. And I'm happy thinking about it, but sad that it's over and I'm heading back to the mode where I am in one place, but anxious about what I have to do next.
And you give yourself to these things, getting up constantly to face more and more. Because I feed off of it. And pushing myself to the limit is how to handle it. The white flag and punking out is not a way to handle it. Just run and run and run and recharge... then run some more.
But I realized that I smile more. And when I'm doubled over, aching and dry heaving in pain; I'm thinking about what it will be like after, when it's over and I won. And how I will be different because of it.
And when I walk into my dorm--at the end of sprint #1 and at the beginning of spring #2--I'm smiling.
And those idiots are counting the days down until we're done.
Note: This is not to antagonize the schedule, assignments or activities. On the contrary, the schedule, assignments and activities are the reason I--and you--are here at this place called higher education. And I'm calling you an idiot to your face if you're paying however much we're all paying and still taking it easy and in apathy.
Mar 20, 2007
Condescension aside...
Okay. I honestly don't think I'm (at least) as condescending as I used to be. And it feels good feeling that way--that I have worked at myself and toned it down. But I'm still critical, and I'm okay with it. The thing is... we're on Spring Break, in Phoenix and it's gorgeous. I won't go into details about the weather and city because that's really not what I want to talk about. The basic mindset behind Spring Break, with college kids, is to let loose and get drunk-whatever. Which is, I suppose, ridiculous because we-the five of us here on this trip-can get drunk on any weekend during the semester. Dordt isn't a huge school, but it has its accesses to underage alcohol. We didn't need to drive 23 hours to Phoenix in order to do that. I was under the impression that we drove all this way in order to soak in the sun and the city (Suns game!). And then we'll drive to LA, to Paul's house, and see where he lives.
We had a good day today. We got to the mall, pool, barbeque, out for pizza and a hookah bar where we purchased one and brought it back to Brent's apt. for some vanilla cherry and a few beers.
At the pizza place, Ben and I were standing at the podium waiting to be seated and I glanced down where some Korean waiter had written something in the miscellaneous note section. It was two words--five consonants and five vowels. I laughed and, when I was trying to explain it, said, "Umm... it said shit face. But without the shit part."
"So, just shit?"
"Well, no. Haha. Yeah, but the shit was directed at someone."
It was funny but the guy was pissed. (I saw him later in the evening.)
We were back at the house shortly afterwards and I was talking to Renae out in the backyard. I was interrupted... which, yeah, it did initially irk me a bit. But especially when a hypocritical oaf interrupts my conversation because he had to tell me how much he needed to drink in order to get a buzz... it's more than enough to disgust me.
Rules:
1) You don't bitch about the brand of beer when your host is gracious enough to supply you for free, especially when you are underage and doubly especially when you're staying at his apartment and he's taking you to all these money spots in the city.
2) You don't look down on the beer when you yourself are the "Bud Light" of the group.
3) You don't put on a condescending face to the other members of your party because you don't regularly see them at the inebriation fests on campus.
He got drunk and, as always and even without alcohol, danced for the rest of us like a monkey. It got old a few years ago and it was even more disgusting this time with alcohol involved. This is the guy who bitched out another friend, calling him an idiot and a faggot, because said friend spent a night on an inebriation fest. When friend responded with, "Well, there's another one tonight," monkey boy asked to come along.
Tonight, when monkey boy said, "I'm never ever going to smoke," and that was met with a, "Just like you were never ever going to drink?" he responded with a simple, "Fuck you."
Condescension aside because this doesn't have to do with me. The guy, monkey boy, is a dumbshit. If, as we decided earlier tonight, a person is part body and part mind, monkey boy has no water in his glass; he is no person, but an empty vessel as his anatomical ambitions are shallow and self-glorifying, his mind weak and saturated with thoughts of lust. I am sorry if this sounds harsh, but I very much behind what I have written.
We had a good day today. We got to the mall, pool, barbeque, out for pizza and a hookah bar where we purchased one and brought it back to Brent's apt. for some vanilla cherry and a few beers.
At the pizza place, Ben and I were standing at the podium waiting to be seated and I glanced down where some Korean waiter had written something in the miscellaneous note section. It was two words--five consonants and five vowels. I laughed and, when I was trying to explain it, said, "Umm... it said shit face. But without the shit part."
"So, just shit?"
"Well, no. Haha. Yeah, but the shit was directed at someone."
It was funny but the guy was pissed. (I saw him later in the evening.)
We were back at the house shortly afterwards and I was talking to Renae out in the backyard. I was interrupted... which, yeah, it did initially irk me a bit. But especially when a hypocritical oaf interrupts my conversation because he had to tell me how much he needed to drink in order to get a buzz... it's more than enough to disgust me.
Rules:
1) You don't bitch about the brand of beer when your host is gracious enough to supply you for free, especially when you are underage and doubly especially when you're staying at his apartment and he's taking you to all these money spots in the city.
2) You don't look down on the beer when you yourself are the "Bud Light" of the group.
3) You don't put on a condescending face to the other members of your party because you don't regularly see them at the inebriation fests on campus.
He got drunk and, as always and even without alcohol, danced for the rest of us like a monkey. It got old a few years ago and it was even more disgusting this time with alcohol involved. This is the guy who bitched out another friend, calling him an idiot and a faggot, because said friend spent a night on an inebriation fest. When friend responded with, "Well, there's another one tonight," monkey boy asked to come along.
Tonight, when monkey boy said, "I'm never ever going to smoke," and that was met with a, "Just like you were never ever going to drink?" he responded with a simple, "Fuck you."
Condescension aside because this doesn't have to do with me. The guy, monkey boy, is a dumbshit. If, as we decided earlier tonight, a person is part body and part mind, monkey boy has no water in his glass; he is no person, but an empty vessel as his anatomical ambitions are shallow and self-glorifying, his mind weak and saturated with thoughts of lust. I am sorry if this sounds harsh, but I very much behind what I have written.
Mar 13, 2007
12:34 wish at 10:18
This one is for my homies.
"Hi!"
"Hey!"
"How are yo-"
"Oh! Guess what we did today!!"
"OK. What did you do?"
"We... Ok, guess what TWO things we did today!"
"Just quick tell me!"
"Are you freaking out?"
"Yeah, uhh yeah. What did you do?"
"Uh... we put a couch outside and then stayed there in the sun for like six hours... awesome. And then we biked to Sandy Hollow (6 up-and-down miles) and the volleyball pit was flooded with snow water so we stripped down to our boxers and belly flopped."
"Ohhh... awesome!"
"Yeah... why are you freaking out?"
"...I don't want to talk about it... I have two tests tomorrow, a quiz and three papers."
"Wow. How far are you?"
"Umm... not far enough."
For two tests, a quiz and three papers by tomorrow. My wish is for her tenacity and vigor in completion, because I'm pretty sure that she will be through and off to the Dominican after tomorrow's obligations. Word to the motha.
"Hi!"
"Hey!"
"How are yo-"
"Oh! Guess what we did today!!"
"OK. What did you do?"
"We... Ok, guess what TWO things we did today!"
"Just quick tell me!"
"Are you freaking out?"
"Yeah, uhh yeah. What did you do?"
"Uh... we put a couch outside and then stayed there in the sun for like six hours... awesome. And then we biked to Sandy Hollow (6 up-and-down miles) and the volleyball pit was flooded with snow water so we stripped down to our boxers and belly flopped."
"Ohhh... awesome!"
"Yeah... why are you freaking out?"
"...I don't want to talk about it... I have two tests tomorrow, a quiz and three papers."
"Wow. How far are you?"
"Umm... not far enough."
For two tests, a quiz and three papers by tomorrow. My wish is for her tenacity and vigor in completion, because I'm pretty sure that she will be through and off to the Dominican after tomorrow's obligations. Word to the motha.
Mar 6, 2007
That thing... that one thing... oh yeah, my MAJOR.
Yeah, it's English: Writing and
I haven't written anything in so long.
I haven't written in so long, but I HAVE been reading. The bulk of it being Theology texts and Short Stories (Carver, Barrett and anthologies before that).
This is not to say that I am dwindling in inspiration and voice, rather that I am lacking time and practice to voice thoughts and create onto paper... or screen. And then Katy wrote something that people will read because it is beautiful and important. (Dr. Schaap keeps saying that reading good and gorgeous things make him want to stop writing, to stop trying. I'm the opposite of that.)
Feeling inspired, and clearly so, I wrote down two sentences during class the other day.
I think I'll share them once I expand and finish up the Environmental Studies PowerPoint presentation, Heresies reading and journal, racketball etc. etc. etc.
I haven't written anything in so long.
I haven't written in so long, but I HAVE been reading. The bulk of it being Theology texts and Short Stories (Carver, Barrett and anthologies before that).
This is not to say that I am dwindling in inspiration and voice, rather that I am lacking time and practice to voice thoughts and create onto paper... or screen. And then Katy wrote something that people will read because it is beautiful and important. (Dr. Schaap keeps saying that reading good and gorgeous things make him want to stop writing, to stop trying. I'm the opposite of that.)
Feeling inspired, and clearly so, I wrote down two sentences during class the other day.
I think I'll share them once I expand and finish up the Environmental Studies PowerPoint presentation, Heresies reading and journal, racketball etc. etc. etc.
Feb 15, 2007
Distractions
You know what's a total bitch?
That's right.
But it's a decision too, because I can very well say, "Screw you! I'm studying!"
Or rather, "Screw you! I want to write a kick ass paper and I have to do it tonight!"
I can! I'm confrontational when I choose to be...
But I like this distraction... I like them all so far. It's not about obligations tonight because he is my friend, brother and roommate. They, my sisters. And them, they are two good friends of mine--both of whom I love and admire--who are, in soft voices, confessing and exposing themselves to each other. It's beautiful. I'm writing a paper about Raymond Carver and the idea of being concise/descriptive... I might post it up here, actually. It looks like it will turn up to be a good read.
Tangent over: Are they flirting? Him??? I knew he was a bitchin' mofo. But I'm really impressed because he's doing a good job and reading her very well; she's responding. And it's happy, I'm glad to be here, with their full knowledge, staring intently at my bright screen and typing these words with vigor as they pour out.
Johnny Cash and June Carter are talking about heading down to Jackson together. It's all fitting together. Tonight, in the midst of academic chaos and physical strain, it is beautiful.
I'm happy. Oddly enough, I'm happy to be the third wheel-ish character in this situation again.
Soft voices. Feet swinging back and forth. Bodies facing each other, but not making contact. Mirroring the other.
This is the room
One afternoon where I knew that I could love you
And from above you how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go
Oh, it's Valentine's Day today. Isn't it strange how we bitch about Hallmark and consumer-driven culture and single-awareness day (You bitches!), yet are prodded by the red and the pink to think and talk about our intimate feelings? I like this day. I liked it last year too.
Iron & Wine is awesome. We're talking about making a combo cover band of him/them and Neutral Milk Hotel. The Iron & Milk Hotel? Neutral Milk & Wine?
Meh.
That's right.
But it's a decision too, because I can very well say, "Screw you! I'm studying!"
Or rather, "Screw you! I want to write a kick ass paper and I have to do it tonight!"
I can! I'm confrontational when I choose to be...
But I like this distraction... I like them all so far. It's not about obligations tonight because he is my friend, brother and roommate. They, my sisters. And them, they are two good friends of mine--both of whom I love and admire--who are, in soft voices, confessing and exposing themselves to each other. It's beautiful. I'm writing a paper about Raymond Carver and the idea of being concise/descriptive... I might post it up here, actually. It looks like it will turn up to be a good read.
Tangent over: Are they flirting? Him??? I knew he was a bitchin' mofo. But I'm really impressed because he's doing a good job and reading her very well; she's responding. And it's happy, I'm glad to be here, with their full knowledge, staring intently at my bright screen and typing these words with vigor as they pour out.
Johnny Cash and June Carter are talking about heading down to Jackson together. It's all fitting together. Tonight, in the midst of academic chaos and physical strain, it is beautiful.
I'm happy. Oddly enough, I'm happy to be the third wheel-ish character in this situation again.
Soft voices. Feet swinging back and forth. Bodies facing each other, but not making contact. Mirroring the other.
This is the room
One afternoon where I knew that I could love you
And from above you how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go
Oh, it's Valentine's Day today. Isn't it strange how we bitch about Hallmark and consumer-driven culture and single-awareness day (You bitches!), yet are prodded by the red and the pink to think and talk about our intimate feelings? I like this day. I liked it last year too.
Iron & Wine is awesome. We're talking about making a combo cover band of him/them and Neutral Milk Hotel. The Iron & Milk Hotel? Neutral Milk & Wine?
Meh.
Feb 1, 2007
Kafuffin'
Can I say something?
I went to see The Queen the other night because it will be gone this Friday, replaced by shit and shit... which I may end up viewing also, because, if you got free movies, you would too.
I went to see it with moderately high expectations... and, though I didn't like it much (4/10), I will say that I was distracted, yo.
First and more significant.
There was a preview with Kal Penn in it. Within the first three seconds, I felt it trigger in my brain. That book... the last book I read.
Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri, Gogol Ganguli, Namesake.
The Namesake.
Now, I am a big fan of both Harold and Kumar...
also, I love that Jim Carrey broke out of the wacky comedy...
so I would look forward to Kal Penn in a serious-er movie...
but this movie, Namesake, is probably my most anticipated film... in a long time.
The book was gorgeous; I have trouble deciding who to give it to next... probably Piper, 'cause she is a big fan of Interpreter of Maladies also... and it is an important book. Concerning everyone with parents, a name, a life and decisions to make, it is an important book.
And the preview was very well done. I know! You can't really expect the trailer to be an accurate representation of the film's bad-ass ness. Let us all remember Fun with Dick and Jane... but we still do! We are fooled/fueled by the Cameron Diaz' character's work!
I am interested in Indian culture. You know.
...damn, it was such a good book.
Aside from that, even. The film looks to be something of a well-told story.
...and if it's not, Imma be pissed.
Second... if she places her hand on her thigh... well, what is she doing? That's distracting, yo!
-
I took pictures for this next edition of the campus newspaper because we lost a photographer. Last semester, I wrote review after review of plays, orientations and films. And they kept assigning me reviews. I really enjoyed writing them and being approached by people, analyzing them with my English and Journalism prof.
But I took pictures, which was great.
So I stood aside and let the new guy take the review assignment... a few days later, I was down with the nerds copy-editing the articles. New guy... had a good idea to expand on for his article (he reviewed Freedom Writers). But, yeah I know-here it comes, he flabbed around for the entirety of the article. His lead was weak. His body was mumbo-jumbo... it honestly seemed as if he wanted to sound intelligent, witty... as if he saw an episode of Frasier and attempted to mirror it onto paper.
And he jacked the ending... jacked as in stole/plagiarized/re-fabricated/duplicated.
I was more surprised than angry, I tell you the truth. It was like, "Wait a minute... what the hell? What the hell?" Not loudly and with ferocious eyebrows, mind you. It was more like... is he serious?
Also, yeah, Hillary Swank IS sort of a big Hollywood name.
-
A friend told me, during the summer after senior year, that people and friends will change in college. I was terrified. Today, I thought about her advice and realized that I am okay with it... for the most part. Friends have changed... shifted around, but they haven't completely transformed. The truth is that while more and more of us become more and more disgusted, Dick is still Dick. Jane is still Jane. Basically, you and me, we stay the same.
Friends require effort. Friendships are hindered, watered-down, when you just say I Love You freely and without deliberation. Love is not merely an emotion.
I'm not angry because the idea of love is being abused/misused etc. I'm more annoyed at the frolics... and I hate consistent annoyances.
You know what else love is? Forever.
You know what love ISN'T? A bitch. Love doesn't quit after an amount of time of whatever did or didn't happen. Love doesn't cop out like that.
-
Love is a burning thing.
Bah-ba-la-ba-la-baaa-lala.
I went to see The Queen the other night because it will be gone this Friday, replaced by shit and shit... which I may end up viewing also, because, if you got free movies, you would too.
I went to see it with moderately high expectations... and, though I didn't like it much (4/10), I will say that I was distracted, yo.
First and more significant.
There was a preview with Kal Penn in it. Within the first three seconds, I felt it trigger in my brain. That book... the last book I read.
Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri, Gogol Ganguli, Namesake.
The Namesake.
Now, I am a big fan of both Harold and Kumar...
also, I love that Jim Carrey broke out of the wacky comedy...
so I would look forward to Kal Penn in a serious-er movie...
but this movie, Namesake, is probably my most anticipated film... in a long time.
The book was gorgeous; I have trouble deciding who to give it to next... probably Piper, 'cause she is a big fan of Interpreter of Maladies also... and it is an important book. Concerning everyone with parents, a name, a life and decisions to make, it is an important book.
And the preview was very well done. I know! You can't really expect the trailer to be an accurate representation of the film's bad-ass ness. Let us all remember Fun with Dick and Jane... but we still do! We are fooled/fueled by the Cameron Diaz' character's work!
I am interested in Indian culture. You know.
...damn, it was such a good book.
Aside from that, even. The film looks to be something of a well-told story.
...and if it's not, Imma be pissed.
Second... if she places her hand on her thigh... well, what is she doing? That's distracting, yo!
-
I took pictures for this next edition of the campus newspaper because we lost a photographer. Last semester, I wrote review after review of plays, orientations and films. And they kept assigning me reviews. I really enjoyed writing them and being approached by people, analyzing them with my English and Journalism prof.
But I took pictures, which was great.
So I stood aside and let the new guy take the review assignment... a few days later, I was down with the nerds copy-editing the articles. New guy... had a good idea to expand on for his article (he reviewed Freedom Writers). But, yeah I know-here it comes, he flabbed around for the entirety of the article. His lead was weak. His body was mumbo-jumbo... it honestly seemed as if he wanted to sound intelligent, witty... as if he saw an episode of Frasier and attempted to mirror it onto paper.
And he jacked the ending... jacked as in stole/plagiarized/re-fabricated/duplicated.
I was more surprised than angry, I tell you the truth. It was like, "Wait a minute... what the hell? What the hell?" Not loudly and with ferocious eyebrows, mind you. It was more like... is he serious?
Also, yeah, Hillary Swank IS sort of a big Hollywood name.
-
A friend told me, during the summer after senior year, that people and friends will change in college. I was terrified. Today, I thought about her advice and realized that I am okay with it... for the most part. Friends have changed... shifted around, but they haven't completely transformed. The truth is that while more and more of us become more and more disgusted, Dick is still Dick. Jane is still Jane. Basically, you and me, we stay the same.
Friends require effort. Friendships are hindered, watered-down, when you just say I Love You freely and without deliberation. Love is not merely an emotion.
I'm not angry because the idea of love is being abused/misused etc. I'm more annoyed at the frolics... and I hate consistent annoyances.
You know what else love is? Forever.
You know what love ISN'T? A bitch. Love doesn't quit after an amount of time of whatever did or didn't happen. Love doesn't cop out like that.
-
Love is a burning thing.
Bah-ba-la-ba-la-baaa-lala.
Jan 26, 2007
Optimism is, usually, not the way to go when in an argument. You can't justify watching Sex and the City by saying, "Well, at least it's not the View." (But, let's be honest, isn't it still?) And to hell with compromises! Say you were young again and you found a five dollar bill on the street. Your friend wants to give it to that homeless man down the street. You want to get milkshakes for all the boys in the yard. "How about... we buy ONE milkshake... and give the rest to the man?" "...fine." No way. That's bullshit.
I buzzed my hair the other night. Well, I guess Pauly Hana did most of the buzzing but I agreed to it for a number of reasons. In order of significance for racketball, because Poel -- one of my roommates -- moved out and another roommate, Kenny, was gone for the week at a theatre workshop... thing. Also, because the bush was borderline uncontrollable. "And, what the hell, put a small mohawk in there while you're at it." So he did and I like it.
"Why did you do it???!!!"
No, I didn't say, "At least it's not a huge one and I'm not going to color my hair." I try to stray from the bullshit.
I like it mostly because it gives me motivation to play racketball and work out harder. I like it also because it dries almost instantly and is much easier to maintain.
So you don't like it. Well, usually that would make me want to argue. But you don't and I do and we can leave it at that.
Can't we?
I'm in college; I should be allowed to decide how to buzz my own hair.
So, Mom. As you can see, I came home so I could drop off the car and have lunch with you. I left the car and will see you once you calm down because I can't talk to you while you're screaming at me, while you're so erratic that we couldn't sit down and have a meal first. And talk like civilized people. I'm at the grille, now. Eating fries and a gray hamburger. I will walk to work and stuff. This is not teenage angst; I'm not blaring Radiohead in my room and telling my roommates how much you suck and are gay. I like my haircut and I wish you could have behaved otherwise before screaming in my face and telling me that I'm going to live at home from here out.
I buzzed my hair the other night. Well, I guess Pauly Hana did most of the buzzing but I agreed to it for a number of reasons. In order of significance for racketball, because Poel -- one of my roommates -- moved out and another roommate, Kenny, was gone for the week at a theatre workshop... thing. Also, because the bush was borderline uncontrollable. "And, what the hell, put a small mohawk in there while you're at it." So he did and I like it.
"Why did you do it???!!!"
No, I didn't say, "At least it's not a huge one and I'm not going to color my hair." I try to stray from the bullshit.
I like it mostly because it gives me motivation to play racketball and work out harder. I like it also because it dries almost instantly and is much easier to maintain.
So you don't like it. Well, usually that would make me want to argue. But you don't and I do and we can leave it at that.
Can't we?
I'm in college; I should be allowed to decide how to buzz my own hair.
So, Mom. As you can see, I came home so I could drop off the car and have lunch with you. I left the car and will see you once you calm down because I can't talk to you while you're screaming at me, while you're so erratic that we couldn't sit down and have a meal first. And talk like civilized people. I'm at the grille, now. Eating fries and a gray hamburger. I will walk to work and stuff. This is not teenage angst; I'm not blaring Radiohead in my room and telling my roommates how much you suck and are gay. I like my haircut and I wish you could have behaved otherwise before screaming in my face and telling me that I'm going to live at home from here out.
Jan 21, 2007
$2.75
That's how much I am in the red because of this semester's books.
The good news/slim hope is that I paid the various peoples by means of various checks... and told them that they might want to wait before cashing them... because I get paid this Friday.
Does it feel good?
Actually, it feels like the other night when we were playing racketball and, right before we puked, we had that mega huge rally going. And all three of us progressively moved closer and closer to the wall, wrapped in the fury of boyhood competition. And I send one screaming, and then, exploding off the wall so quickly. And Ben does that thing where he positions his whole body paralell to the ground and reaches to send the ball back from where it came... and it skids the ground twice before I can even respond.
"Awwwww you mofo!"
It feels good/not good like that.
The good news/slim hope is that I paid the various peoples by means of various checks... and told them that they might want to wait before cashing them... because I get paid this Friday.
Does it feel good?
Actually, it feels like the other night when we were playing racketball and, right before we puked, we had that mega huge rally going. And all three of us progressively moved closer and closer to the wall, wrapped in the fury of boyhood competition. And I send one screaming, and then, exploding off the wall so quickly. And Ben does that thing where he positions his whole body paralell to the ground and reaches to send the ball back from where it came... and it skids the ground twice before I can even respond.
"Awwwww you mofo!"
It feels good/not good like that.
Jan 15, 2007
Caffeine
One can of Mountain Dew was consumed, by me, in order to properly view a late, private screening of Freedom Writers. I hate Mountain Dew. The screening was cancelled due to fatigue.
One cup of green tea was consumed, by me, shortly afterwards. Snow had been falling softly, magically, and called for the comforting process of brewing.
It is now 5 a.m.
I am more aware of the headache that has been with me all day.
I imagined a photography minor.
I hear the snowplows outside.
I have thought about death... and my student loans.
I am thirsty.
I replayed select scenes from Million Dollar Baby in my head.
I smell the blank scent of myself.
I'm fucked for tomorrow.
I've assumed all sleeping positions.
I can get four and a half hours... starting now.
I have stopped trying.
The Decemberists are grooving about the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect crime.
The house creaks something mysterious and terrifying. As if it were to collapse upon itself. Implode, House of Usher style. A momentary sweep of headlight streamed through the window above my head and I imagine an old Cadillac crashing through. It destroys my guitar to my right and, to my left, my laptop. It also lands on my skull and I go out like a poor bastard. I hope they say that at my funeral, "The poor bastard..."
I should chase Mountain Dew with green tea in the mornings...
One cup of green tea was consumed, by me, shortly afterwards. Snow had been falling softly, magically, and called for the comforting process of brewing.
It is now 5 a.m.
I am more aware of the headache that has been with me all day.
I imagined a photography minor.
I hear the snowplows outside.
I have thought about death... and my student loans.
I am thirsty.
I replayed select scenes from Million Dollar Baby in my head.
I smell the blank scent of myself.
I'm fucked for tomorrow.
I've assumed all sleeping positions.
I can get four and a half hours... starting now.
I have stopped trying.
The Decemberists are grooving about the perfect, the perfect, the perfect, the perfect crime.
The house creaks something mysterious and terrifying. As if it were to collapse upon itself. Implode, House of Usher style. A momentary sweep of headlight streamed through the window above my head and I imagine an old Cadillac crashing through. It destroys my guitar to my right and, to my left, my laptop. It also lands on my skull and I go out like a poor bastard. I hope they say that at my funeral, "The poor bastard..."
I should chase Mountain Dew with green tea in the mornings...
Jan 13, 2007
Pistachio Shells in our Front Lawn
Among other household decisions my parents make in order to gain that boost for our various plants and landscape settings. I'll start a little earlier for, you know, context's sake and stuff. I had a cup of tea. Usually I take a spoonful of loose black tea from one of the three aluminum canisters that we keep next to our coffee. (We also have green and white tea.) But the fancy box of Tazo: The Reincarnation of Tea caught my eye. Of course it did. That's what they pay the graphic designers for, right? For that ancient text faded into the background of the display, right behind the "caffeine free" notice.
Oh crap... this is caffeine free?
I had a cup of strong, gorgeous looking, smelling and tasting "deep, red tea made from hibiscus flowers, exotic herbs and natural tropical flavors." And had prepared another cup when my dog jumped onto my lap. I let her sniff the edges of my cup playfully. She inhaled spastically and then, when she grew bored, she exhaled sharply, sending an army of dog snot and flakes of whatever-was-on-the-floor-that-got-tangled-up-in-her-whiskers into my new cup.
Oh, stupid me.
Oh, silly dog with your big, bashful eyes.
So I cleaned my cup and glanced up onto the gray, unforgiving Iowa winter - snowless on January 13 - and saw the pile of pistachio shells. They were maybe four large handfuls in volume and congregated in the woodchips set by my father this past summer to house the liveforevers and rose bushes. Do they decompose that quickly in the winter? Do they compose that quickly at all? There are other such examples of my parents' ingenius ideas. Whether they are Korean or why-the-hell-not ideas... or both, I have no idea.
The potted plants are surrounded by up-turned eggshell halves. They smell like death. I remember once while I vacuuming, I crouched low to reach underneath the couch and was simultaneously befuddled and gagging.
I have a glass of orange Hi-c in the car, coming home with my father. He advised me to dump it on the lawn so the sugars and vitamin(s) could help the patch of grass grow and conform with the rest of the lawn. Magically maybe, switch species to whatever the the majority is. I don't know if it worked... I'm going to bet not.
While the eggshells may sit there for the entire rest of this year, the shells in our lawn may have to be dug up and discarded by the time Spring rolls around.
Oh crap... this is caffeine free?
I had a cup of strong, gorgeous looking, smelling and tasting "deep, red tea made from hibiscus flowers, exotic herbs and natural tropical flavors." And had prepared another cup when my dog jumped onto my lap. I let her sniff the edges of my cup playfully. She inhaled spastically and then, when she grew bored, she exhaled sharply, sending an army of dog snot and flakes of whatever-was-on-the-floor-that-got-tangled-up-in-her-whiskers into my new cup.
Oh, stupid me.
Oh, silly dog with your big, bashful eyes.
So I cleaned my cup and glanced up onto the gray, unforgiving Iowa winter - snowless on January 13 - and saw the pile of pistachio shells. They were maybe four large handfuls in volume and congregated in the woodchips set by my father this past summer to house the liveforevers and rose bushes. Do they decompose that quickly in the winter? Do they compose that quickly at all? There are other such examples of my parents' ingenius ideas. Whether they are Korean or why-the-hell-not ideas... or both, I have no idea.
The potted plants are surrounded by up-turned eggshell halves. They smell like death. I remember once while I vacuuming, I crouched low to reach underneath the couch and was simultaneously befuddled and gagging.
I have a glass of orange Hi-c in the car, coming home with my father. He advised me to dump it on the lawn so the sugars and vitamin(s) could help the patch of grass grow and conform with the rest of the lawn. Magically maybe, switch species to whatever the the majority is. I don't know if it worked... I'm going to bet not.
While the eggshells may sit there for the entire rest of this year, the shells in our lawn may have to be dug up and discarded by the time Spring rolls around.
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