Whoa! New test results! For those of you who have been waiting with bated breath for what must be a year or so for more test results, you will be pleased to note two sort of thingies.
This one (click here) will tell you what celebrities I look like. Julianne Moore! Woo-hoo.
And this one effectively negates the very last update of this kind which said that if I were a Tarot Card I'd be death. Which one is it? Sun or Death? You tell me!
And by that I mean don't tell me. You'll probably think of something terribly witty like "You're actually the joker" and you'll laugh and your friends will laugh and my friends will laugh and I'll go home and kill myself.
Enjoy!
31.12.06
25.12.06
Telephone Booths
So it used to be that for a good time college kids would cram themselves into telephone booths. Sometimes willingly, sometimes not-so-much. That quaint idea has gone out of vogue, though. As have telephone booths themselves.
What has filled the void, you ask? Facebook groups. The latest one I've seen was "1 million people in 10 days." Trying to cram as many people as possible into one group. There's also "The World's Largest Facebook Group" and that hoax one with the threesome and some wry spin-offs there (My personal favorite of those being "When this group reaches 10 people I'll go masturbate").
Merry Christmas.
What has filled the void, you ask? Facebook groups. The latest one I've seen was "1 million people in 10 days." Trying to cram as many people as possible into one group. There's also "The World's Largest Facebook Group" and that hoax one with the threesome and some wry spin-offs there (My personal favorite of those being "When this group reaches 10 people I'll go masturbate").
Merry Christmas.
22.12.06
jkl;
ASDF is a pretty commonly typed thing. When you're in a rush or don't care about naming something, you save it as asdf. It's a commonly used default password, too. Apparently. There's even a Wikipedia Article about it.
It makes sense, sort of. It's the home row and your hands are on it normally. What I want to know is why is it always "asdf" and not "jkl;"? Shouldn't those characters get their chance to shine? I mean, it seems to me the majority of people are right handing and will continue to be for another generation or two. Why always asdf?
My theory is the mouse. Your right hand's always over there clickin' on shit but you leave the left one on the keyboard for emergency typing and efficiency. Also, we often read left to right (most of the time, I think. I mean. What? Dumb sentence) and ASDF is all over there on the leftest part of the keyboard.
So that's my theory.
It makes sense, sort of. It's the home row and your hands are on it normally. What I want to know is why is it always "asdf" and not "jkl;"? Shouldn't those characters get their chance to shine? I mean, it seems to me the majority of people are right handing and will continue to be for another generation or two. Why always asdf?
My theory is the mouse. Your right hand's always over there clickin' on shit but you leave the left one on the keyboard for emergency typing and efficiency. Also, we often read left to right (most of the time, I think. I mean. What? Dumb sentence) and ASDF is all over there on the leftest part of the keyboard.
So that's my theory.
21.12.06
Thoughts
Break is upon us in the education bidness. About time, I say!
Colds are bad.
"Sea of Love" is good. At least Tom Waits' version is.
I still haven't given in to the doubled possessive S craze.
Quiche smells good. (Are pigs small mammals? They're smaller than Bone...)
Doug TenNapel's Creature Tech is off to a pretty good start. Great art!
Quiche smells GOOD.
Break is good.
So is guitar.
The end!
...?
Colds are bad.
"Sea of Love" is good. At least Tom Waits' version is.
I still haven't given in to the doubled possessive S craze.
Quiche smells good. (Are pigs small mammals? They're smaller than Bone...)
Doug TenNapel's Creature Tech is off to a pretty good start. Great art!
Quiche smells GOOD.
Break is good.
So is guitar.
The end!
...?
19.12.06
My face!
So this is pretty cool.
I went in to the office of my Oral and Maxillofacial surgeon yesterday. Our original plan was to meet last Friday but the Dr. done pulled out my teeth (Dr. Doss) got all sicked up on Friday. So he canceled. I'd had those concerns about infection, too. So that was no good.
But I got in yesterday and the replacement Doctor (never got his name), really jovial fellow, said Dr. Doss was feeling better, had a look in my mouth ("Yeah, that side is angrier than the other"), pulled out my stitches ("Here comes the pinch"), rinsed out the holes (gross) and prescribed me some penicillin (to stave off infection). All in about 4 minutes.
Inside of half an hour all pain in my mouth had vanished. I feel great again. One of the funniest sensations, though, was the removing of the stitch. The tunnel the silk string was through had swollen up around it so when he pulled I felt it all the way. Weird!
But I'm feeling pretty good. Talking doesn't bug me anymore and I'm taking penicillin and life seems to be on the upswing.
What next?! Car trouble? Broken limb? Death, perhaps? Who knows!
I went in to the office of my Oral and Maxillofacial surgeon yesterday. Our original plan was to meet last Friday but the Dr. done pulled out my teeth (Dr. Doss) got all sicked up on Friday. So he canceled. I'd had those concerns about infection, too. So that was no good.
But I got in yesterday and the replacement Doctor (never got his name), really jovial fellow, said Dr. Doss was feeling better, had a look in my mouth ("Yeah, that side is angrier than the other"), pulled out my stitches ("Here comes the pinch"), rinsed out the holes (gross) and prescribed me some penicillin (to stave off infection). All in about 4 minutes.
Inside of half an hour all pain in my mouth had vanished. I feel great again. One of the funniest sensations, though, was the removing of the stitch. The tunnel the silk string was through had swollen up around it so when he pulled I felt it all the way. Weird!
But I'm feeling pretty good. Talking doesn't bug me anymore and I'm taking penicillin and life seems to be on the upswing.
What next?! Car trouble? Broken limb? Death, perhaps? Who knows!
15.12.06
Banned Books
Banned books are pretty cool. Censorship is not. We've completely missed Banned Book Week but next year!
You can burn words but you can't burn an idea. It goes beyond that. Part of the necessity of language is it's ability to create original, spontaneous sentences to suit our complex meat machine brains that generate original, spontaneous thoughts.
That's all I got for now, not a very impressive post BUT it was mostly for the purpose of getting this little guy up here:
I got the badge from this site: Newprotest.org
You can burn words but you can't burn an idea. It goes beyond that. Part of the necessity of language is it's ability to create original, spontaneous sentences to suit our complex meat machine brains that generate original, spontaneous thoughts.
That's all I got for now, not a very impressive post BUT it was mostly for the purpose of getting this little guy up here:
I got the badge from this site: Newprotest.org
13.12.06
Aw, crap
God damn. I really hope it's not infected.
The surgery was Friday. Went great. They put me in the chair, stuck some pads on me to measure heart and respiration and left for a few minutes. While they were gone the machines all started flat-lining which was amusing. I was fairly certain I wasn't dead. Stressed me out a little, too. I know an extraction is a minor surgery but they were planning on putting me under and any time you go under there's the chance for death. An allergic reaction to the anaesthesia or vomiting and choking. So, I was a little stressed.
The doctor came back in with two nurses, stuck an IV in my arm and gave me three quick shots through the needle. I looked up at the doctor, said, "This works fast," fell asleep.
Blackness. Solid sleep. No thoughts.
Woke up. "How long's it been?"
"About 45 minutes."
"Are my teeth still around?"
"No, those have been disposed of."
They wheeled me into a recovery room and the nurse sat me up on a bed. I said, "With these cotton balls in my mouth, I feel like I should be talking like Marlon Brando."
"What?"
"With these cotton balls in my mouth," I enunciated, wondering if she didn't understand because of slurring over the novocaine and cotton balls, "I feel like I should be talking like Marlon Brando."
Then it donned on me she didn't understand because it didn't make a lick of sense. I grinned at her. She took out the gauze and I laid down and tried to fire off a text message.
The rest of the day went pretty well. The doctor injected some novocaine right into a nerve, we figured, because I was numb in the lower jaw for a good 12 hours. I took a nap and didn't drool in any way once all day. Bleeding was minimal. I watched a bunch of stuff and played with my face and surfed the internet.
Good weekend, too. No real pain. No need for the Vicodin or even ibuprofen, really.
Went in to school on Monday. Good day, by and large. But Monday evening brought a sorta ache into my jaw. I thought it might've been all the talking. It only got slightly worse Tuesday. Worse than it'd been during the weekend. And now today.
Today it's almost feeling as bad as it did when it was infected in Rochester.
I really hope it's not infected. That sucked balls. Four hours of sleep tops. Constant grimace. Mouth cracks open half an inch at the most.
Miserable stuff. Don't want it back.
The surgery was Friday. Went great. They put me in the chair, stuck some pads on me to measure heart and respiration and left for a few minutes. While they were gone the machines all started flat-lining which was amusing. I was fairly certain I wasn't dead. Stressed me out a little, too. I know an extraction is a minor surgery but they were planning on putting me under and any time you go under there's the chance for death. An allergic reaction to the anaesthesia or vomiting and choking. So, I was a little stressed.
The doctor came back in with two nurses, stuck an IV in my arm and gave me three quick shots through the needle. I looked up at the doctor, said, "This works fast," fell asleep.
Blackness. Solid sleep. No thoughts.
Woke up. "How long's it been?"
"About 45 minutes."
"Are my teeth still around?"
"No, those have been disposed of."
They wheeled me into a recovery room and the nurse sat me up on a bed. I said, "With these cotton balls in my mouth, I feel like I should be talking like Marlon Brando."
"What?"
"With these cotton balls in my mouth," I enunciated, wondering if she didn't understand because of slurring over the novocaine and cotton balls, "I feel like I should be talking like Marlon Brando."
Then it donned on me she didn't understand because it didn't make a lick of sense. I grinned at her. She took out the gauze and I laid down and tried to fire off a text message.
The rest of the day went pretty well. The doctor injected some novocaine right into a nerve, we figured, because I was numb in the lower jaw for a good 12 hours. I took a nap and didn't drool in any way once all day. Bleeding was minimal. I watched a bunch of stuff and played with my face and surfed the internet.
Good weekend, too. No real pain. No need for the Vicodin or even ibuprofen, really.
Went in to school on Monday. Good day, by and large. But Monday evening brought a sorta ache into my jaw. I thought it might've been all the talking. It only got slightly worse Tuesday. Worse than it'd been during the weekend. And now today.
Today it's almost feeling as bad as it did when it was infected in Rochester.
I really hope it's not infected. That sucked balls. Four hours of sleep tops. Constant grimace. Mouth cracks open half an inch at the most.
Miserable stuff. Don't want it back.
5.12.06
Hit on the head
I've been working on a blues track called "The Hit on the Head Blues." And by "been working on" I mean "I've come up with a title for."
I've often pictured sorta grating, dissonant guitar riffs going with it, along with clunky, un-grammatical lyrics to address the delicate nature of the song. So, with that in mind, here's a start, I think:
I speak deliberate and slow-like
Since 'bout the end of last May
I got rolled over
by a Big Bale of Hay
Docs said I's OK
Nothin' too severe
I can use both my legs
And my visions is clear
but he says somethin' peculiar
'bout "Mental Faculty"
I said, "Gimme it straight, Doc
Don't be bullshittin' me"
He Said
You got the blues, yeah
The hit on the head blues
You got the blues, boy
The hit on the head blues
I've often pictured sorta grating, dissonant guitar riffs going with it, along with clunky, un-grammatical lyrics to address the delicate nature of the song. So, with that in mind, here's a start, I think:
I speak deliberate and slow-like
Since 'bout the end of last May
I got rolled over
by a Big Bale of Hay
Docs said I's OK
Nothin' too severe
I can use both my legs
And my visions is clear
but he says somethin' peculiar
'bout "Mental Faculty"
I said, "Gimme it straight, Doc
Don't be bullshittin' me"
He Said
You got the blues, yeah
The hit on the head blues
You got the blues, boy
The hit on the head blues
4.12.06
Not completely UN-disastrous
I have this scab on my elbow from a patch of rugburn I received a few weeks ago in a wrestling match - alcohol may or may not have been involved - with Don Thibodeau.
A student asked me where I got it today. I said, "Wrestling" without thinking. Kids asked, "Oh, so you wrestle?" "Well, not really."
"Then how'd you get it?"
"Mr. Rollins... do you party?"
I didn't answer that one. I let the kids hypothesize.
"Can you imagine," one laughed, "HIM partying?"
"I don't know," another responded, "He puts on a proper front here at school but I bet if you get him-"
"Back to Spanish," I said, meekly.
"Mr. Rollins," said a girl who I think is 14, "I bet you're good at beer pong. You've got those long arms."
I examined my arms a moment, blasted things are what got me in this situation to begin with, and looked up at her.
"How do you know about Beer Pong?"
A student asked me where I got it today. I said, "Wrestling" without thinking. Kids asked, "Oh, so you wrestle?" "Well, not really."
"Then how'd you get it?"
"Mr. Rollins... do you party?"
I didn't answer that one. I let the kids hypothesize.
"Can you imagine," one laughed, "HIM partying?"
"I don't know," another responded, "He puts on a proper front here at school but I bet if you get him-"
"Back to Spanish," I said, meekly.
"Mr. Rollins," said a girl who I think is 14, "I bet you're good at beer pong. You've got those long arms."
I examined my arms a moment, blasted things are what got me in this situation to begin with, and looked up at her.
"How do you know about Beer Pong?"
3.12.06
Ring the bells
I don't want to alarm anyone, but I've written some daily things over at grungynoir and would like to keep it up. A good way to keep my sanity when faced against the current of a never ending stream of paperwork your average first-year teachery type person has to swim upstream against. Between the homeworks, quizzes, tests, forms, passes and inquiries I have to fill out, it's a wonder anyone decides to stay in this profession.
The Bureaucracy needs to keep it's meddlesome, nosy, fastidious head out of schoolwork.
On a somewhat concerning note, my laptop screen has developed a flicker. I'm hoping it's not a serious issue. Also, that it somehow resolves itself. I don't much care to watch the screen when it's all a-ripple.
I fixed up the connections on the back of those speakers Dad made years ago. Sound pretty good. They're set up in my room and I'm currently listening to Tom Waits' Orphans. Excellent album, I'm sure a quick google will find you any number of amazing reviews but I'll do you one better and link you to one: here ya go.
You might note that it's now "in vogue" (as vogue as literary circles are) to include the possessive "s" at the end of words that end in "s" and "z." So it would read "Tom Waits's" or "Krister Rollins's."
Note also that I do not prescribe to it. A logical fallacy is to immediately accept everything new as gospel: Appeal to novelty.
Of course there's a fallacy for sticking by something just because it's old (Appeal to tradition) and it might be what I'm guilty of. But I rather like the dropping the s. The two of them there looks silly.
The Bureaucracy needs to keep it's meddlesome, nosy, fastidious head out of schoolwork.
On a somewhat concerning note, my laptop screen has developed a flicker. I'm hoping it's not a serious issue. Also, that it somehow resolves itself. I don't much care to watch the screen when it's all a-ripple.
I fixed up the connections on the back of those speakers Dad made years ago. Sound pretty good. They're set up in my room and I'm currently listening to Tom Waits' Orphans. Excellent album, I'm sure a quick google will find you any number of amazing reviews but I'll do you one better and link you to one: here ya go.
You might note that it's now "in vogue" (as vogue as literary circles are) to include the possessive "s" at the end of words that end in "s" and "z." So it would read "Tom Waits's" or "Krister Rollins's."
Note also that I do not prescribe to it. A logical fallacy is to immediately accept everything new as gospel: Appeal to novelty.
Of course there's a fallacy for sticking by something just because it's old (Appeal to tradition) and it might be what I'm guilty of. But I rather like the dropping the s. The two of them there looks silly.
1.12.06
God Damn It
People are moronic
This really upsets me. A lot.
First of all, I don't think that in a country with a supposed division between Church and State people should swear in on an anything, Bible, Koran, Talmud or Star Wars DVD.
BUT since that won't be going away any time soon I believe most fervently that you damn well better be swearing in on a book that means something to you. A book that will instill in you the impetus to achieve great heights in representing your state. A Muslim swearing in on a Bible would be like an Atheist swearing in on a Bible. Or a Christian swearing in on an X-Men comic. Sure there are things in there you might like but it is not the foundation of your belief system.
If I had to do it, I'd be swearing in on Slaughterhouse Five.
The other really upsetting thing is the huge percentage of Americans that are upset by this and that feel that this is at it's core a Christian nation. Founded by Christians, for Christians. Were our founding fathers Christian? Some of them. Washington, Franklin, Jefferson, Payne and Allen were all Deists, though. They denied the divinity of Christ. No where in the Constitution does it say anything about God or Jesus. As a matter of fact the First Amendment pretty clearly states:
No law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. Right there. Seems pretty cut and dry to me. The Founding Fathers agreed that God had no place in the law of the land.
So stop saying it's a Christian country, Dinks! It's a Country. A lot of the people in it are Christian. A lot of the people in it are men, too. A lot are white. A lot are blue collar workers. That doesn't make the country or it's laws any of these things.
I say, let Ellison swear in on the fucking Koran. It'll at least shut me up.
This really upsets me. A lot.
First of all, I don't think that in a country with a supposed division between Church and State people should swear in on an anything, Bible, Koran, Talmud or Star Wars DVD.
BUT since that won't be going away any time soon I believe most fervently that you damn well better be swearing in on a book that means something to you. A book that will instill in you the impetus to achieve great heights in representing your state. A Muslim swearing in on a Bible would be like an Atheist swearing in on a Bible. Or a Christian swearing in on an X-Men comic. Sure there are things in there you might like but it is not the foundation of your belief system.
If I had to do it, I'd be swearing in on Slaughterhouse Five.
The other really upsetting thing is the huge percentage of Americans that are upset by this and that feel that this is at it's core a Christian nation. Founded by Christians, for Christians. Were our founding fathers Christian? Some of them. Washington, Franklin, Jefferson, Payne and Allen were all Deists, though. They denied the divinity of Christ. No where in the Constitution does it say anything about God or Jesus. As a matter of fact the First Amendment pretty clearly states:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
No law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. Right there. Seems pretty cut and dry to me. The Founding Fathers agreed that God had no place in the law of the land.
So stop saying it's a Christian country, Dinks! It's a Country. A lot of the people in it are Christian. A lot of the people in it are men, too. A lot are white. A lot are blue collar workers. That doesn't make the country or it's laws any of these things.
I say, let Ellison swear in on the fucking Koran. It'll at least shut me up.
29.11.06
On Birthdays
Turned 23 today. All in all an unregrettable day. In classes today, instead of teaching regular spanish I opted for something a little more "fun" from my point of view. We discussed, and by discussed I mean I lectured, linguistic theory that I've been learning from Stephen Pinker's excellent (so far, maybe it takes a turn for the worse in the third act) The Language Instinct: How the Mind Creates Language. I'm learning a lot of cool exciting stuff and had a good time teaching it today as well as yesterday. When I caught the kids paying attention was, of course, the most rewarding. But I wasn't expecting them to for the entire time, there's a lot to listen and catch up on.
I skipped out on teacher's collaborative. Good for me.
Went out to dinner on mum's treat. We went to Dimitri's Restaurant in Scarborough. I had a very good shrimp dish and a fried/scalded cheese appetizer. Both were delicious and I accompanied them with a red wine by Daniel's. Also, I'd never eaten Orzo before so that was an experience. Between the shrimp and the orzo I must say I had a texturally significant meal.
Came home via Bull Moose and watched Firefly. Skimmed over stuff to cover tomorrow in Spanish II. Wrote this. Going to bed.
Also, tons of people posted birthday congratulations on Facebook and - lame as this potentially seems - I'm touched.
And if you want to see some cool stuff, check out Tom Waits' video for Lie to Me and Chocolate Jesus. This man has three kids! I wonder if they realize how cool their dad is or if they're completely disillusioned with him. They'd have to listen to over-polished pop to upset him.
Also, happy birthday Ed Harris, Jon Stewart and William Blake. Those motherfuckers know what I'm talking about.
I skipped out on teacher's collaborative. Good for me.
Went out to dinner on mum's treat. We went to Dimitri's Restaurant in Scarborough. I had a very good shrimp dish and a fried/scalded cheese appetizer. Both were delicious and I accompanied them with a red wine by Daniel's. Also, I'd never eaten Orzo before so that was an experience. Between the shrimp and the orzo I must say I had a texturally significant meal.
Came home via Bull Moose and watched Firefly. Skimmed over stuff to cover tomorrow in Spanish II. Wrote this. Going to bed.
Also, tons of people posted birthday congratulations on Facebook and - lame as this potentially seems - I'm touched.
And if you want to see some cool stuff, check out Tom Waits' video for Lie to Me and Chocolate Jesus. This man has three kids! I wonder if they realize how cool their dad is or if they're completely disillusioned with him. They'd have to listen to over-polished pop to upset him.
Also, happy birthday Ed Harris, Jon Stewart and William Blake. Those motherfuckers know what I'm talking about.
27.11.06
Thanksgiving Weekend: A Reflection
Mmm. Thanksgiving. Much good food. Good cheer.
Thanksgiving was in New Hampshire at the house of Aunt Bonnie. She cooked us up a mighty fine amalgam of foods and we had good pies and good wines. I certainly drank a lot of it.
Next night Dad, Lynn Ann and I went out to Chicky's and caught a pretty good band called the Tone Kings. I'll write up a post about it in a matter of time, small or large. I just have to transcribe it from my notebook. Good times although the food, French Fries, biscuit and gravy and a chicken fried steak (healthiest meal I've had in a while) did NOT agree with me. I cruised around later and cleaned the car, caught up on some Silver Surfer lore. Gave me some ideas for a movie, maybe. Fleshed out some ideas, anyway.
Drove over to Nick's after that. Creepy fucking place when you're all alone and not used to it. Any sort of maniac with a pointy sharp thing coulda rapped at the window, grinning like a wild infant. Would've skinned me alive and not even thought twice about it.
Saturday I had dinner up to Patrick's. Good times, saw some Wondershowzen. Nice to see Pat and Audrey, too. Then a party at Nick's. I had quite a good time philosophizing.
Sunday I got up at 8 AM and moved some heavy household equipment, washers and dryers mostly. Went in to school got some grading done. Postponed tutelage on account of her having spent some amount of time in Jail.
Anyway. Good times.
Thanksgiving was in New Hampshire at the house of Aunt Bonnie. She cooked us up a mighty fine amalgam of foods and we had good pies and good wines. I certainly drank a lot of it.
Next night Dad, Lynn Ann and I went out to Chicky's and caught a pretty good band called the Tone Kings. I'll write up a post about it in a matter of time, small or large. I just have to transcribe it from my notebook. Good times although the food, French Fries, biscuit and gravy and a chicken fried steak (healthiest meal I've had in a while) did NOT agree with me. I cruised around later and cleaned the car, caught up on some Silver Surfer lore. Gave me some ideas for a movie, maybe. Fleshed out some ideas, anyway.
Drove over to Nick's after that. Creepy fucking place when you're all alone and not used to it. Any sort of maniac with a pointy sharp thing coulda rapped at the window, grinning like a wild infant. Would've skinned me alive and not even thought twice about it.
Saturday I had dinner up to Patrick's. Good times, saw some Wondershowzen. Nice to see Pat and Audrey, too. Then a party at Nick's. I had quite a good time philosophizing.
Sunday I got up at 8 AM and moved some heavy household equipment, washers and dryers mostly. Went in to school got some grading done. Postponed tutelage on account of her having spent some amount of time in Jail.
Anyway. Good times.
23.11.06
Thanksgiving
Happy Thanksgiving, y'all! Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays for these reasons:
It's difficult to commercialize it (you only buy food to celebrate it).
It's actually got a worthwhile message. No exclusivicity, you don't have to be Christian or Jewish or even American, I feel, to celebrate it.
Food!
I like that you're supposed to take a moment and think about everything that's gotten you to your seat at that table that day. Turn around and thank all the boosts and all support and friends and luck and strangers and laws and all that random stuff that's cobbled together to form your life.
So before you take a bite of that big juicy turkey (or tofurkey, for you insane vegetarians) say 'Thanks' to someone!
I'm thankful for friends and job-opportunities. I'm thankful for my degree and the four years at school before I got that. I'm thankful for family and food. I'm thankful for books and the turn in the political tide. I'm thankful for those who stand up for those who can't. I'm thankful to be in America (though I think I'd be just as happy in Europe or Australia). I'm thankful for big comfy beds and warm blankets. I'm thankful for the Simpson's seasons 1-8. For brainstorms. For notebooks and pencils.
The list could keep going.
Happy Thanksgiving!
It's difficult to commercialize it (you only buy food to celebrate it).
It's actually got a worthwhile message. No exclusivicity, you don't have to be Christian or Jewish or even American, I feel, to celebrate it.
Food!
I like that you're supposed to take a moment and think about everything that's gotten you to your seat at that table that day. Turn around and thank all the boosts and all support and friends and luck and strangers and laws and all that random stuff that's cobbled together to form your life.
So before you take a bite of that big juicy turkey (or tofurkey, for you insane vegetarians) say 'Thanks' to someone!
I'm thankful for friends and job-opportunities. I'm thankful for my degree and the four years at school before I got that. I'm thankful for family and food. I'm thankful for books and the turn in the political tide. I'm thankful for those who stand up for those who can't. I'm thankful to be in America (though I think I'd be just as happy in Europe or Australia). I'm thankful for big comfy beds and warm blankets. I'm thankful for the Simpson's seasons 1-8. For brainstorms. For notebooks and pencils.
The list could keep going.
Happy Thanksgiving!
19.11.06
So
I just cleaned up my room! It's so tidy and neat and I can hardly stand it. I'm excited and hope I can keep it in this state forever. In the end, of course, it will all fall apart. But until then! Man, oh man.
Also, my wisdom teeth are all coming out on December 8th starting 'round 8 in the AM. The Doctor has told me there was an infection back there and given me penicillin and vicodin (under a different name) to deal with it for the interim.
I have entirely too many movies. But I don't want to get rid of any of them. For the most part. I could probably stand to part with a few. But whatever. Same goes for the books. There's a bunch I haven't read and mostly likely won't read but I like having them around. The movies I haven't seen you can be pretty sure I'll watch. Not always as true with the books.
Went to the final Kickball thing of the season. Was pretty cool. Got some free beers. Decided I'll sign up again in the spring. They want me back as their first baseman! And I hope we have some practices. It was a good time and I'm looking forward to the time when we can have a more positive team.
Think I might pop in a game to play. Or a movie to watch. Or perhaps some glorious combo.
Also, my wisdom teeth are all coming out on December 8th starting 'round 8 in the AM. The Doctor has told me there was an infection back there and given me penicillin and vicodin (under a different name) to deal with it for the interim.
I have entirely too many movies. But I don't want to get rid of any of them. For the most part. I could probably stand to part with a few. But whatever. Same goes for the books. There's a bunch I haven't read and mostly likely won't read but I like having them around. The movies I haven't seen you can be pretty sure I'll watch. Not always as true with the books.
Went to the final Kickball thing of the season. Was pretty cool. Got some free beers. Decided I'll sign up again in the spring. They want me back as their first baseman! And I hope we have some practices. It was a good time and I'm looking forward to the time when we can have a more positive team.
Think I might pop in a game to play. Or a movie to watch. Or perhaps some glorious combo.
17.11.06
My Rough
A rough description of my train of thought about two minutes ago:
INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
KRISTER, 22, lies asleep in bed. Offscreen we hear footstamps creaking downstairs. Krister stirs slightly, perhaps he's awake but only just barely. The trip trap of dog claws on the floor. The footsteps of his mother behind them.
MARY (O.S.)
Maxx, wanna go outside?
Krister's eyes shoot open like champagne corks popping. He stares crazily around the room. Has he overslept? His eyes swing to the clock and his face drops. 7:16. Shit! He's supposed to be at school by now! Why didn't the alarm clock go off? Why didn't his mother wake him up? Does she not know he's here?
A thought occurs as he looks past the clock to the darkness of the window. Why is it pitch black at 7:16 in the AM? Unless...
It all snaps in place in front of him. It's Friday. Friday night.
As Krister sighs the word of relief:
KRISTER
Yessss....
He jerks the arm in a move traditionally saved for superbowl athletics when the last touchdown is scored by the winning team.
PS. I know it's not a good "script" because of all the speculation and though. Fuck you.
Also, I like that my thought upon processing all that stuff that happened was "Clearly, this needs to be a blog post."
INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
KRISTER, 22, lies asleep in bed. Offscreen we hear footstamps creaking downstairs. Krister stirs slightly, perhaps he's awake but only just barely. The trip trap of dog claws on the floor. The footsteps of his mother behind them.
MARY (O.S.)
Maxx, wanna go outside?
Krister's eyes shoot open like champagne corks popping. He stares crazily around the room. Has he overslept? His eyes swing to the clock and his face drops. 7:16. Shit! He's supposed to be at school by now! Why didn't the alarm clock go off? Why didn't his mother wake him up? Does she not know he's here?
A thought occurs as he looks past the clock to the darkness of the window. Why is it pitch black at 7:16 in the AM? Unless...
It all snaps in place in front of him. It's Friday. Friday night.
As Krister sighs the word of relief:
KRISTER
Yessss....
He jerks the arm in a move traditionally saved for superbowl athletics when the last touchdown is scored by the winning team.
PS. I know it's not a good "script" because of all the speculation and though. Fuck you.
Also, I like that my thought upon processing all that stuff that happened was "Clearly, this needs to be a blog post."
15.11.06
9.11.06
Well Done
Well done, America. I must admit I had my doubts things would turn out the way the did. I was pretty certain about the House falling to the Democrats but was overjoyed to hear the Senate did as well.
Now don't screw it up.
Also, I'm kinda disgusted that it took so much in the way of scandals, lies, wars etc. to change the tide. I feel like there was more than enough to justify complete regime change in the '04 elections. And yet it took an additional two years of misdeeds and malfeasances. Ah well.
Keep up the good work!
Now don't screw it up.
Also, I'm kinda disgusted that it took so much in the way of scandals, lies, wars etc. to change the tide. I feel like there was more than enough to justify complete regime change in the '04 elections. And yet it took an additional two years of misdeeds and malfeasances. Ah well.
Keep up the good work!
25.10.06
Tired
God damn. Exhausted. Falling asleep at school.
Also, cute record store chick keeps getting all my money! Damn her ladylike wiles.
Also, cute record store chick keeps getting all my money! Damn her ladylike wiles.
18.10.06
Tragedy
This seems like an idea destined for tragedy.
Just read that last sentence. What on earth are they thinking?
And I'm feeling kinda crummy.
But in other news, because of the PSATs today I only "taught" two classes. One of which was a study hall. And since I didn't want the kids to get too far ahead, I just talked about La Malinche and other ancillary topics of Mexican culture. Also, Machismo. (Thanks Women in the Hispanic World(you have to scroll to the bottom to read about it))And then we reviewed stuff. An easy day. I've spent two hours sitting here trying to figure out what I'm going to be teaching kids tomorrow.
Turns out it's review stuff, mostly. Although I just learned an interesting method of tutelage called "Total Physical Response Storytelling." If I can find a story to tell to my Spanish I kids, maybe I'll give that a whirl.
Yep.
Just read that last sentence. What on earth are they thinking?
And I'm feeling kinda crummy.
But in other news, because of the PSATs today I only "taught" two classes. One of which was a study hall. And since I didn't want the kids to get too far ahead, I just talked about La Malinche and other ancillary topics of Mexican culture. Also, Machismo. (Thanks Women in the Hispanic World(you have to scroll to the bottom to read about it))And then we reviewed stuff. An easy day. I've spent two hours sitting here trying to figure out what I'm going to be teaching kids tomorrow.
Turns out it's review stuff, mostly. Although I just learned an interesting method of tutelage called "Total Physical Response Storytelling." If I can find a story to tell to my Spanish I kids, maybe I'll give that a whirl.
Yep.
14.10.06
Bray's
Dad played at Bray's the other night. I wrote this guy up about it, mostly while there:
Its fall nights in a dim bar with a good beer and a great band that make me realize I wouldn't give up Maine for the world.
An easy Allman Brothers song has the bar bobbing it's collective head. Smooth, simple guitar solos. Each of the two guitarists feeding off each other in a celebration of what music is all about.
The stage is lit red and a witch is silhouetted against the moon in a novelty light set above the drummer. One light points up at a guitarist and his shadow moves behind him in sync with him. A black doppelganger.
Bray's on a Friday night. The band has no name I know and yet they're miles above the clientele who yell drunken requests and clap on the off (or every) beat.
But above all the music. The slow songs drop conversations to whispered words and eyes wander across the room. Does this song have more meaning for some? Was someone's virginity lost to this song on a long forgotten prom night? Or maybe it was just a car ride in the sunny afternoon, leaves changing all around.
I see my love/ love shining on down through the years
As they cut into a cover of "All Along the Watchtower" that is drenched in 70s rock, I realize I can't wait for the blues jam here on Sunday. Now they're every Sunday, but once October ends it changes to the last Sunday of the month. I recommend you check it out.
The "All Along the Watchtower" cover that dripped the sweet honey of Paige and Plant segued remarkably smoothly into a Johnny Cash tune. These guys have a range, I can tell you that.
As they cut into break time I find out they do have a name. The Sensations.
On top of the phenomenal band, Bray's has some excellent micro-brew beers. Tonight I enjoyed Willie McGill's Brown but the favorite I've had there is the Oatmeal Stout.
All in all, Bray's is a quality establishment. Although as the evening dwindled to a close a rather short and old woman sauntered up to me as a song was quite clearly ending and said, "Hey, tall boy, wanna dance?" I informed her I don't dance and yet she persisted in asking again.
Ah well, vaguely humorous stories are always good for the repertoire.
Its fall nights in a dim bar with a good beer and a great band that make me realize I wouldn't give up Maine for the world.
An easy Allman Brothers song has the bar bobbing it's collective head. Smooth, simple guitar solos. Each of the two guitarists feeding off each other in a celebration of what music is all about.
The stage is lit red and a witch is silhouetted against the moon in a novelty light set above the drummer. One light points up at a guitarist and his shadow moves behind him in sync with him. A black doppelganger.
Bray's on a Friday night. The band has no name I know and yet they're miles above the clientele who yell drunken requests and clap on the off (or every) beat.
But above all the music. The slow songs drop conversations to whispered words and eyes wander across the room. Does this song have more meaning for some? Was someone's virginity lost to this song on a long forgotten prom night? Or maybe it was just a car ride in the sunny afternoon, leaves changing all around.
I see my love/ love shining on down through the years
As they cut into a cover of "All Along the Watchtower" that is drenched in 70s rock, I realize I can't wait for the blues jam here on Sunday. Now they're every Sunday, but once October ends it changes to the last Sunday of the month. I recommend you check it out.
The "All Along the Watchtower" cover that dripped the sweet honey of Paige and Plant segued remarkably smoothly into a Johnny Cash tune. These guys have a range, I can tell you that.
As they cut into break time I find out they do have a name. The Sensations.
On top of the phenomenal band, Bray's has some excellent micro-brew beers. Tonight I enjoyed Willie McGill's Brown but the favorite I've had there is the Oatmeal Stout.
All in all, Bray's is a quality establishment. Although as the evening dwindled to a close a rather short and old woman sauntered up to me as a song was quite clearly ending and said, "Hey, tall boy, wanna dance?" I informed her I don't dance and yet she persisted in asking again.
Ah well, vaguely humorous stories are always good for the repertoire.
23.9.06
Teaching
Teaching is working out pretty well. I'm enjoying it, by and large, and find that even in the parts where I'm shaky I've got a lot of support. The Foreign Language Department at school is really helpful, I'm in a class that meets after school on Tuesdays and my mother has been helping a lot, too.
I'm enjoying being back in Maine for the most part but man, I miss having friends around. I mean, there's about two here. I've joined a kickball league (through WAKA, if'n yer curious) and that's pretty cool. I play with a friend I had from long ago and some acquaintances and it seems to be going pretty well. We lose but we get to drink on the field. In the end that's what sports is really all about. To quote the great Homer, "Son, when you attend a sporting event it's not about whether you win or lose but how drunk you get." Roughly.
So apart from that I've just got Nick. And I like Nick a lot but I don't wanna be like crowding his shit or whatever. Also, he lives pretty far away. Everyone does.
So that's my gripe. I'm kinda lonely. Mum cooks for me a lot, though! So groceries are cheap and rent's minimal. I should have plenty of money for when I go to Europe next summer.
So that's that.
I'm enjoying being back in Maine for the most part but man, I miss having friends around. I mean, there's about two here. I've joined a kickball league (through WAKA, if'n yer curious) and that's pretty cool. I play with a friend I had from long ago and some acquaintances and it seems to be going pretty well. We lose but we get to drink on the field. In the end that's what sports is really all about. To quote the great Homer, "Son, when you attend a sporting event it's not about whether you win or lose but how drunk you get." Roughly.
So apart from that I've just got Nick. And I like Nick a lot but I don't wanna be like crowding his shit or whatever. Also, he lives pretty far away. Everyone does.
So that's my gripe. I'm kinda lonely. Mum cooks for me a lot, though! So groceries are cheap and rent's minimal. I should have plenty of money for when I go to Europe next summer.
So that's that.
5.9.06
THREE UNDEAD BILL PAXTONS?
All right, so I've got a new job and shit teaching Spanish at Lake Region High School. But whatever, here's what I'm really excited about:
Alien V Predator 2: V Terminator. The flick has THREE UNDEAD BILL PAXTONS! I don't know anything more about it except that he's also instrumental in bringing down all three nasty beasties. In an act of revenge? Who knows!? They're undead/mindless! OR ARE THEY!!!
Oh man oh man oh man oh man.
Oh, according to the IMDb it'll actually be AVP3:VT. Whatever.
Dibs on writing it!
Alien V Predator 2: V Terminator. The flick has THREE UNDEAD BILL PAXTONS! I don't know anything more about it except that he's also instrumental in bringing down all three nasty beasties. In an act of revenge? Who knows!? They're undead/mindless! OR ARE THEY!!!
Oh man oh man oh man oh man.
Oh, according to the IMDb it'll actually be AVP3:VT. Whatever.
Dibs on writing it!
22.8.06
Writing here again. If only because it easily links to facebook.
Which just might be the lamest thing ever. But it's exciting.
The summer went well. 8 weeks of kids both smart and dumb, awesome and awful. Actually, we really didn't have many problem children and I can only think of one who was actively nasty. The others just were loud and obvious about their disdain for regular work and preference of things like bad flash games and Nelly's Trapped in the Closet. Guh.
The rest of the time in VA was pretty cool, too. Benstyn's friends are good people and I've enjoyed hanging out with them muchly. I'm headed back down there later on today, in fact, before I start my... NEW JOB!!
I am, in fact, a high school teacher. Not even any of that substitute bullshit. I'm a teacher. I'm going to earn more money than I know what to do with if I understand the situation correctly. Teachers are certainly underpaid for the work they do, but $28K is a lot of money for a single guy who lives with his mom.
I'm pretty excited. I'll be teaching Spanish 1 and 2. I have to come up with lesson plans and grade tests and papers. It's at my alma mater, too. Lake Region High School in Naples, ME. My Spanish and Latin teachers (My favorites) are still there, too. And when I told Nick's family, his brother said that he had been thinking about dropping out of Latin to take my class. Then he asked for an A.
I told him he could have one if he earned it.
Nick'll be around for the year, which will be fun, I think. He's got a job as a news editor for WGME. Right now he'll be editing tape-to-tape via tape decks but the reason they hired him is his skills with Avid. They are, apparently, getting an Avid editing system in a couple months and he's probably one of ten people in the state who even know what Avid is. Frankly, my own concept of it is rather vague and ethereal.
I suppose I'd be in remiss if I failed to mention that my dog has been rather sick lately. He's developed this nasty and persistent cough that sounds like my old car. Or rather, if my old car was Maxx, they'd sound alike. Although Maxx doesn't do it all the time and have a key stuck in his ignition.
New car runs great, though.
Well, if I'm to make it down to Virginia today, I is best to be rising up.
Krister, out.
Which just might be the lamest thing ever. But it's exciting.
The summer went well. 8 weeks of kids both smart and dumb, awesome and awful. Actually, we really didn't have many problem children and I can only think of one who was actively nasty. The others just were loud and obvious about their disdain for regular work and preference of things like bad flash games and Nelly's Trapped in the Closet. Guh.
The rest of the time in VA was pretty cool, too. Benstyn's friends are good people and I've enjoyed hanging out with them muchly. I'm headed back down there later on today, in fact, before I start my... NEW JOB!!
I am, in fact, a high school teacher. Not even any of that substitute bullshit. I'm a teacher. I'm going to earn more money than I know what to do with if I understand the situation correctly. Teachers are certainly underpaid for the work they do, but $28K is a lot of money for a single guy who lives with his mom.
I'm pretty excited. I'll be teaching Spanish 1 and 2. I have to come up with lesson plans and grade tests and papers. It's at my alma mater, too. Lake Region High School in Naples, ME. My Spanish and Latin teachers (My favorites) are still there, too. And when I told Nick's family, his brother said that he had been thinking about dropping out of Latin to take my class. Then he asked for an A.
I told him he could have one if he earned it.
Nick'll be around for the year, which will be fun, I think. He's got a job as a news editor for WGME. Right now he'll be editing tape-to-tape via tape decks but the reason they hired him is his skills with Avid. They are, apparently, getting an Avid editing system in a couple months and he's probably one of ten people in the state who even know what Avid is. Frankly, my own concept of it is rather vague and ethereal.
I suppose I'd be in remiss if I failed to mention that my dog has been rather sick lately. He's developed this nasty and persistent cough that sounds like my old car. Or rather, if my old car was Maxx, they'd sound alike. Although Maxx doesn't do it all the time and have a key stuck in his ignition.
New car runs great, though.
Well, if I'm to make it down to Virginia today, I is best to be rising up.
Krister, out.
11.6.06
Made it all the way to UVA without so much as an engine light coming on.
I rock. So does the car. Thanks Grammy and Aunt Lynn.
A day on the road did bad shit to my physique. Bad food and lots of sitting. Damn.
I went to Lewiston before leaving for VA. Had to sit through an additional 3 hours or so of class time because the teacher couldn't teach the class in the regular order. Normally CPR is taught at the beginning and first aid after, but someone (I'm assuming it was that miserable chickenshit God) told her she had to teach First Aid first.
Balls on that. Two of 'em. In a sweaty sack. On it's forehead.
Think I just thought of a good way to torture people.
Drove for 12 hours to Herndon, VA where Tristyn was gracious enough to let me crash at her place. Got about four hours of sleep (on top of the 5 from the night before). Drove to Charlottesville.
On the drive down I decided I really, really like the word Pepper. It has some psychosomatic effect on me. I can feel it wrap around the back of my head. Also the word Milk, but only if it's pronounced just right. The "k" at the end can't be phlegmy at all. A hard and crisp sound. Also, the "i" should come from deeper in the throat. Nick Cave says it admirably in one of the songs on Boatman's Call. Not my favorite of songs, but you know. Also, the dude from Type O Negative in the song Black No. 1.
Anyway, I'm gonna crash for a bit.
Although I'm discovering why I should never have created a playlist called "Songs I could listen to incessantly." Cant... stop... listening!
I rock. So does the car. Thanks Grammy and Aunt Lynn.
A day on the road did bad shit to my physique. Bad food and lots of sitting. Damn.
I went to Lewiston before leaving for VA. Had to sit through an additional 3 hours or so of class time because the teacher couldn't teach the class in the regular order. Normally CPR is taught at the beginning and first aid after, but someone (I'm assuming it was that miserable chickenshit God) told her she had to teach First Aid first.
Balls on that. Two of 'em. In a sweaty sack. On it's forehead.
Think I just thought of a good way to torture people.
Drove for 12 hours to Herndon, VA where Tristyn was gracious enough to let me crash at her place. Got about four hours of sleep (on top of the 5 from the night before). Drove to Charlottesville.
On the drive down I decided I really, really like the word Pepper. It has some psychosomatic effect on me. I can feel it wrap around the back of my head. Also the word Milk, but only if it's pronounced just right. The "k" at the end can't be phlegmy at all. A hard and crisp sound. Also, the "i" should come from deeper in the throat. Nick Cave says it admirably in one of the songs on Boatman's Call. Not my favorite of songs, but you know. Also, the dude from Type O Negative in the song Black No. 1.
Anyway, I'm gonna crash for a bit.
Although I'm discovering why I should never have created a playlist called "Songs I could listen to incessantly." Cant... stop... listening!
11.5.06
I'm not surprised by this:
Your Political Profile |
Overall: 10% Conservative, 90% Liberal |
Social Issues: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal |
Personal Responsibility: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal |
Fiscal Issues: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal |
Ethics: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal |
Defense and Crime: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal |
10.5.06
Keep Me In Your Heart by Warren Zevon, off his final album The Wind, is perhaps one of the most beautiful, emotional and sad songs I have ever heard.
Zevon was dying of cancer when he wrote this album, the whole thing is a masterpiece, really. He got phenomenal talent to work with him and is himself quite talented. Noted accompanying stars: Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, Dwight Yoakam, Don Henley, Joe Walsh and Ry Cooder. It ranges from fun, humorous songs (Dirty Life and Times for instance, which features the line "I'm looking for a girl with low self-esteem" and "If she won't love me her sister will") to the sad, somber songs you'd expect from a man who is reflecting on his life. Notably touching are El Amor de Mi Vida and Rest of the Night. One being an ode to lost love and the other a call to "Party for the Rest of the Night."
The album is particularly touching when you consider this is his last work. He knew it would be his last work. Instead of making a moral-spewing piece or a musical last will, he took liberty and had a lot of fun and created a really solid album. Death leaks into it all just the same, but that only binds it together and makes the gestalt sweeter.
But back to Keep Me In Your Heart. It is the last track on the album and his most focused on his imminent death. What is so wonderful about it is how simple yet evocative it manages to be. I think I've listened to it four or five times in the last half an hour and it's brought tears to my eyes every time. His words are perfect, they paint the picture without being overly dramatic or needlessly obscure. This song is about a man who has come to terms with what will happen to him, and his one last plea. Keep me in your heart for a while.
Zevon was dying of cancer when he wrote this album, the whole thing is a masterpiece, really. He got phenomenal talent to work with him and is himself quite talented. Noted accompanying stars: Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, Dwight Yoakam, Don Henley, Joe Walsh and Ry Cooder. It ranges from fun, humorous songs (Dirty Life and Times for instance, which features the line "I'm looking for a girl with low self-esteem" and "If she won't love me her sister will") to the sad, somber songs you'd expect from a man who is reflecting on his life. Notably touching are El Amor de Mi Vida and Rest of the Night. One being an ode to lost love and the other a call to "Party for the Rest of the Night."
The album is particularly touching when you consider this is his last work. He knew it would be his last work. Instead of making a moral-spewing piece or a musical last will, he took liberty and had a lot of fun and created a really solid album. Death leaks into it all just the same, but that only binds it together and makes the gestalt sweeter.
But back to Keep Me In Your Heart. It is the last track on the album and his most focused on his imminent death. What is so wonderful about it is how simple yet evocative it manages to be. I think I've listened to it four or five times in the last half an hour and it's brought tears to my eyes every time. His words are perfect, they paint the picture without being overly dramatic or needlessly obscure. This song is about a man who has come to terms with what will happen to him, and his one last plea. Keep me in your heart for a while.
15.3.06
In perhaps the most startling and stirring news on this entire blog, from college acceptance to melissa and I dating to Tristyn dumping me, I am giving the Web Browser Opera. So far I find it to be much like Firefox, but I'm digging it's layout more.
Also, I hear there's a bunch of nifty keyboard shortcuts to learn. To make my web browsing a more fulfilling experience no doubt.
Ha! I'll die alone.
Also, I hear there's a bunch of nifty keyboard shortcuts to learn. To make my web browsing a more fulfilling experience no doubt.
Ha! I'll die alone.
6.3.06
I spent my time in the Bahamas on the island called Eleuthera. On Eleuthera you'll find no shortage of nothing to do and many rums to complement that. Rums from The Bahamas, Jamaica, Haiti etc. Here's what my mother says about rum and nothing. "Nothing to do's no problem when there's rum. When there's rum you can just let gravity take over."
In the Bahamas you can sit in the sun and stew in your own juices while drinking iced tropical drinks from swirly straws and read books that may or may not pertain to civilization. You can't decide whether or not it pertains because you're so far from the mechinations of modern man. The world could end while you're on the Bahamas and you wouldn't really notice until you ran out of something. But that something wouldn't be the relaxed atmosphere, I guarantee you that.
In The Bahamas everyone waves. You probably don't know them, but they're nice and smile big white toothed smiles and wave pink palms at you.
In the Bahamas you drive on the left. I know this because there was a big sign in the window of my car that said "Keep Left." So I kept left. The roads in the Bahamas have terrible problems with potholes. But it seems that most of the population doesn't care and drives over the potholes and the smooth spots with equal zest. I suspect there's a fair amount of alcohol abuse in the driving practices there, but nothing too major.
To sum up: Not much to do. People are friendly. Roads are questionable. Driving's an adventure.
In the Bahamas you can sit in the sun and stew in your own juices while drinking iced tropical drinks from swirly straws and read books that may or may not pertain to civilization. You can't decide whether or not it pertains because you're so far from the mechinations of modern man. The world could end while you're on the Bahamas and you wouldn't really notice until you ran out of something. But that something wouldn't be the relaxed atmosphere, I guarantee you that.
In The Bahamas everyone waves. You probably don't know them, but they're nice and smile big white toothed smiles and wave pink palms at you.
In the Bahamas you drive on the left. I know this because there was a big sign in the window of my car that said "Keep Left." So I kept left. The roads in the Bahamas have terrible problems with potholes. But it seems that most of the population doesn't care and drives over the potholes and the smooth spots with equal zest. I suspect there's a fair amount of alcohol abuse in the driving practices there, but nothing too major.
To sum up: Not much to do. People are friendly. Roads are questionable. Driving's an adventure.
30.1.06
One more chapter in the article anecdote. Here's the final (maybe?) revised edit.
And it seems some of my facts might have been a little twisted before. Just know there have now been four edits.
Squarin’ Up with God
by Krister Rollins
It’s a sweating sea of tangled, writhing bodies.
To clarify: They are all wearing clothes. And they are upright. And they are dancing. Square dancing.
The InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF) decided to host a night of square dancing, lassoing, apple bobbing, and food eating in Clark Gym. Christina McKee, Outreach Coordinator for RIT’s chapter of the IVCF told me this was an “outreach event” and that they were trying to convince people that “being a Christian isn’t necessarily boring.” But the night almost didn’t happen. There was no band up until a week ago, as the previously contacted minstrels were called off to one of two other coincidental square dances held that very night. Luckily, they were able to piece a band together last minute.
The plan partially worked. There was a huge turnout, with people coming from as far off as Fredonia and Geneseo. However, it did seem like the majority of the attendees were already in the IVCF fold. But they were certainly not all familiar faces, as Christina did not recognize a bunch of people there and was also pleasantly surprised by the number of deaf people on the floor. They all had a ball. Or square. The entire night I’m not sure I saw one frown. Everyone was cheery and good-natured.
A lot of them were sweaty, too, from all the running around. I spotted three guys who were sitting up in the back of the bleachers. “Ah,” I thought to myself, “These disaffected youths will provide an opposing angle on my story.” Nope. The bleachers were rarely populated because it was always people, like these chaps, just sitting out a round to rest up.
No one seemed to mind the weird tarp covering the floor, the cut-in-half donuts, or the Drunken Interloper who came from nowhere and danced on the stage like an idiot until the guitarist politely requested he leave. Which he did.
Keith Hunt, the caller, who has been calling since the ‘50s said, “[it’s] great fun to see everyone dancing out there and having a good time. It’s really encouraging.”
What was interesting to me was how extreme everyone was in their keen intent on having a night of good-natured fun. People enjoyed the donuts, sometimes even splitting the halves in half. The non-carbonated and, you can bet your butt, non-alcoholic drinks were consumed with equal fervor. I saw more radiating smiles and glowing happiness at this dance than at any large event I have been to. Everyone was bound and determined to have a good time. And they did.
And it seems some of my facts might have been a little twisted before. Just know there have now been four edits.
Squarin’ Up with God
by Krister Rollins
It’s a sweating sea of tangled, writhing bodies.
To clarify: They are all wearing clothes. And they are upright. And they are dancing. Square dancing.
The InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF) decided to host a night of square dancing, lassoing, apple bobbing, and food eating in Clark Gym. Christina McKee, Outreach Coordinator for RIT’s chapter of the IVCF told me this was an “outreach event” and that they were trying to convince people that “being a Christian isn’t necessarily boring.” But the night almost didn’t happen. There was no band up until a week ago, as the previously contacted minstrels were called off to one of two other coincidental square dances held that very night. Luckily, they were able to piece a band together last minute.
The plan partially worked. There was a huge turnout, with people coming from as far off as Fredonia and Geneseo. However, it did seem like the majority of the attendees were already in the IVCF fold. But they were certainly not all familiar faces, as Christina did not recognize a bunch of people there and was also pleasantly surprised by the number of deaf people on the floor. They all had a ball. Or square. The entire night I’m not sure I saw one frown. Everyone was cheery and good-natured.
A lot of them were sweaty, too, from all the running around. I spotted three guys who were sitting up in the back of the bleachers. “Ah,” I thought to myself, “These disaffected youths will provide an opposing angle on my story.” Nope. The bleachers were rarely populated because it was always people, like these chaps, just sitting out a round to rest up.
No one seemed to mind the weird tarp covering the floor, the cut-in-half donuts, or the Drunken Interloper who came from nowhere and danced on the stage like an idiot until the guitarist politely requested he leave. Which he did.
Keith Hunt, the caller, who has been calling since the ‘50s said, “[it’s] great fun to see everyone dancing out there and having a good time. It’s really encouraging.”
What was interesting to me was how extreme everyone was in their keen intent on having a night of good-natured fun. People enjoyed the donuts, sometimes even splitting the halves in half. The non-carbonated and, you can bet your butt, non-alcoholic drinks were consumed with equal fervor. I saw more radiating smiles and glowing happiness at this dance than at any large event I have been to. Everyone was bound and determined to have a good time. And they did.
29.1.06
I went to a Square Dance last night for the Reporter. It was run by the InterVarsity Christian Fellowship.
I wrote an article. Sent it to Tristyn, she seemed to enjoy it. My editor liked it. He sent it to his superiors.
They found it Wildly Offensive.
So I was awoken today by Ben, my editor in this article, asking if I wouldn't mind re-editing it. So I got up and re-edited something that I had already worked hard at making not offensive.
So in the interest of...something...here's the original.
It’s a sweating sea of tangled writhing bodies.
Most unchristian.
But then, they are all wearing clothes. And they are upright. And they are dancing. Square dancing.
The InterVarsity Christian Fellowship decided to host the night of square dancing, lassoing, apple bobbing and food eating in Clark Gym this year partially because they have seen it done at other nearby schools in The Fellowship, partially because it is fun and partially because people might come and see all the secular fun these folks are having and think that attending their Friday night meetings might not be so bad.
The plan partially worked. There was a huge turnout. People came from Fredonia and Geneseo. Unfortunately, the majority of the attendees were already members of the fold, already in with The Big Guy. But they all still managed to have a ball. Or square. The entire night I’m not sure I saw one frown. Everyone was cheery and good natured.
Kinda drags you down.
Everyone there was happy and glad. A lot of them were sweaty, too, from all the running around. I spotted three guys who were sitting out one of the dances up in the back of the bleachers. “Ah,” I thought to myself, “These disaffected youths will provide an opposing angle on my story,”
Nope.
I realized something was wrong when I got back there and they were all sweaty and grinning. They told me they were up in the bleachers to get a good angle on the floor and really see everything going down while they rested up between songs. Johnny Arkansas told me he learned to square dance in the third grade. Another guy from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania told me they danced square all through high school.
Everyone there was completely happy. The bleachers were never that populated and it was always just people sitting out for a round to rest up. No one seemed to mind the weird tarp covering the floor, the cut-in-half donuts or the Drunken Interloper who came from nowhere and danced on the stage like an idiot until the guitarist politely requested he leave. Which he did.
I just didn’t really understand it.
And then it dawns on me. Little hints from over the evening; the exaggerated reenactment of the Drunken Interloper, the phrase “good clean fun,” the apple bobbing, the lasso. The phrase “a night of fun without drinking” pops into my head. And it dawns on me.
These are people with whom I have a fundamental incompatibility.
Complete abstinence is about as reasonable to me as complete indulgence. I can have fun without drinking, yes, I had a good time at the square dance. But I can also have a good time with drinking. Not too much, of course, memories are nice and I’m no fan of hangovers.
But these folks didn’t seem to have any interest in it.
I was also shocked when people started leaving promptly at 11 pm. Surely it could not have all been to go to bed. But I imagine most of the dancers also go to church on Sundays. So I guess it makes sense that they would want to leave.
Anyway, I can’t really malign the event or the attendees. Everyone was cheery and bright and had a lot of fun. I saw more radiating smiles and glowing happiness at this dance than at any large event I have been to. Can’t deny the happiness.
But you also can’t deny the extremes.
And now, for your reading and comparing pleasure, the re-edit.
It’s a sweating sea of tangled writhing bodies.
Most unchristian.
But then, they are all wearing clothes. And they are upright. And they are dancing. Square dancing.
The InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF) decided to host the night of square dancing, lassoing, apple bobbing and food eating in Clark Gym this year partially because they have seen it done at other nearby schools in The Fellowship, partially because it is fun and partially because people might come and see all the secular fun these folks are having and decide to attend the group’s Friday meetings.
Christina McKee, Outreach Coordinator for RIT’s chapter of the IVCF told me this was an “outreach event.” That they were trying to convince people “Being a Christian isn’t necessarily boring.” But the night almost didn’t happen. There was no band up until a week ago as the previously contacted minstrels were called off to one of two other coincidental square dances held that very night. Luckily, Ben Proctor was able to piece a band together last minute.
The plan partially worked. There was a huge turnout. People came from Fredonia and Geneseo. The majority of the attendees were already members of the fold, already in with The Big Guy. Christina did not recognize a bunch of people there, and was also pleasantly surprised by the number of deaf people on the floor. They all had a ball. Or square. The entire night I’m not sure I saw one frown. Everyone was cheery and good natured.
Kinda drags you down.
Everyone there was happy and glad. A lot of them were sweaty, too, from all the running around. I spotted three guys who were sitting out one of the dances up in the back of the bleachers. “Ah,” I thought to myself, “These disaffected youths will provide an opposing angle on my story,”
Nope.
I realized something was wrong with my cynical approach when I got back there and they were all sweaty and grinning. They told me they were up in the bleachers to get a good angle on the floor and really see everything going down while they rested up between songs. Johnny Arkansas told me he learned to square dance in the third grade. Another guy from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania told me they danced square all through high school.
Everyone there was completely happy. The bleachers were never that populated and it was always just people sitting out for a round to rest up. No one seemed to mind the weird tarp covering the floor, the cut-in-half donuts or the Drunken Interloper who came from nowhere and danced on the stage like an idiot until the guitarist politely requested he leave. Which he did.
Keith Hunt, the caller, who has been calling since the ‘50s said it’s “great fun to see everyone dancing out there and having a good time. It’s really encouraging.”
What was interesting to me was how extreme everyone was in their keen intent on having a night of good natured fun. Nothing about the evening upset anyone. Ben and Keith had a jocular exchange exaggeratedly imitating the drunken cavorting of the interloper. People happily enjoyed the donuts, sometimes even splitting the halves in half. The non-carbonated, and you can bet your butt nonalcoholic, drinks were consumed with equal fervor. Everyone was bound and determined to have a good time.
And they did.
Everyone was cheery and bright and enjoying themselves. I saw more radiating smiles and glowing happiness at this dance than at any large event I have been to. Can’t deny the happiness.
But you also can’t deny the extremes.
Enjoy.
I wrote an article. Sent it to Tristyn, she seemed to enjoy it. My editor liked it. He sent it to his superiors.
They found it Wildly Offensive.
So I was awoken today by Ben, my editor in this article, asking if I wouldn't mind re-editing it. So I got up and re-edited something that I had already worked hard at making not offensive.
So in the interest of...something...here's the original.
It’s a sweating sea of tangled writhing bodies.
Most unchristian.
But then, they are all wearing clothes. And they are upright. And they are dancing. Square dancing.
The InterVarsity Christian Fellowship decided to host the night of square dancing, lassoing, apple bobbing and food eating in Clark Gym this year partially because they have seen it done at other nearby schools in The Fellowship, partially because it is fun and partially because people might come and see all the secular fun these folks are having and think that attending their Friday night meetings might not be so bad.
The plan partially worked. There was a huge turnout. People came from Fredonia and Geneseo. Unfortunately, the majority of the attendees were already members of the fold, already in with The Big Guy. But they all still managed to have a ball. Or square. The entire night I’m not sure I saw one frown. Everyone was cheery and good natured.
Kinda drags you down.
Everyone there was happy and glad. A lot of them were sweaty, too, from all the running around. I spotted three guys who were sitting out one of the dances up in the back of the bleachers. “Ah,” I thought to myself, “These disaffected youths will provide an opposing angle on my story,”
Nope.
I realized something was wrong when I got back there and they were all sweaty and grinning. They told me they were up in the bleachers to get a good angle on the floor and really see everything going down while they rested up between songs. Johnny Arkansas told me he learned to square dance in the third grade. Another guy from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania told me they danced square all through high school.
Everyone there was completely happy. The bleachers were never that populated and it was always just people sitting out for a round to rest up. No one seemed to mind the weird tarp covering the floor, the cut-in-half donuts or the Drunken Interloper who came from nowhere and danced on the stage like an idiot until the guitarist politely requested he leave. Which he did.
I just didn’t really understand it.
And then it dawns on me. Little hints from over the evening; the exaggerated reenactment of the Drunken Interloper, the phrase “good clean fun,” the apple bobbing, the lasso. The phrase “a night of fun without drinking” pops into my head. And it dawns on me.
These are people with whom I have a fundamental incompatibility.
Complete abstinence is about as reasonable to me as complete indulgence. I can have fun without drinking, yes, I had a good time at the square dance. But I can also have a good time with drinking. Not too much, of course, memories are nice and I’m no fan of hangovers.
But these folks didn’t seem to have any interest in it.
I was also shocked when people started leaving promptly at 11 pm. Surely it could not have all been to go to bed. But I imagine most of the dancers also go to church on Sundays. So I guess it makes sense that they would want to leave.
Anyway, I can’t really malign the event or the attendees. Everyone was cheery and bright and had a lot of fun. I saw more radiating smiles and glowing happiness at this dance than at any large event I have been to. Can’t deny the happiness.
But you also can’t deny the extremes.
And now, for your reading and comparing pleasure, the re-edit.
It’s a sweating sea of tangled writhing bodies.
Most unchristian.
But then, they are all wearing clothes. And they are upright. And they are dancing. Square dancing.
The InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF) decided to host the night of square dancing, lassoing, apple bobbing and food eating in Clark Gym this year partially because they have seen it done at other nearby schools in The Fellowship, partially because it is fun and partially because people might come and see all the secular fun these folks are having and decide to attend the group’s Friday meetings.
Christina McKee, Outreach Coordinator for RIT’s chapter of the IVCF told me this was an “outreach event.” That they were trying to convince people “Being a Christian isn’t necessarily boring.” But the night almost didn’t happen. There was no band up until a week ago as the previously contacted minstrels were called off to one of two other coincidental square dances held that very night. Luckily, Ben Proctor was able to piece a band together last minute.
The plan partially worked. There was a huge turnout. People came from Fredonia and Geneseo. The majority of the attendees were already members of the fold, already in with The Big Guy. Christina did not recognize a bunch of people there, and was also pleasantly surprised by the number of deaf people on the floor. They all had a ball. Or square. The entire night I’m not sure I saw one frown. Everyone was cheery and good natured.
Kinda drags you down.
Everyone there was happy and glad. A lot of them were sweaty, too, from all the running around. I spotted three guys who were sitting out one of the dances up in the back of the bleachers. “Ah,” I thought to myself, “These disaffected youths will provide an opposing angle on my story,”
Nope.
I realized something was wrong with my cynical approach when I got back there and they were all sweaty and grinning. They told me they were up in the bleachers to get a good angle on the floor and really see everything going down while they rested up between songs. Johnny Arkansas told me he learned to square dance in the third grade. Another guy from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania told me they danced square all through high school.
Everyone there was completely happy. The bleachers were never that populated and it was always just people sitting out for a round to rest up. No one seemed to mind the weird tarp covering the floor, the cut-in-half donuts or the Drunken Interloper who came from nowhere and danced on the stage like an idiot until the guitarist politely requested he leave. Which he did.
Keith Hunt, the caller, who has been calling since the ‘50s said it’s “great fun to see everyone dancing out there and having a good time. It’s really encouraging.”
What was interesting to me was how extreme everyone was in their keen intent on having a night of good natured fun. Nothing about the evening upset anyone. Ben and Keith had a jocular exchange exaggeratedly imitating the drunken cavorting of the interloper. People happily enjoyed the donuts, sometimes even splitting the halves in half. The non-carbonated, and you can bet your butt nonalcoholic, drinks were consumed with equal fervor. Everyone was bound and determined to have a good time.
And they did.
Everyone was cheery and bright and enjoying themselves. I saw more radiating smiles and glowing happiness at this dance than at any large event I have been to. Can’t deny the happiness.
But you also can’t deny the extremes.
Enjoy.
28.1.06
All right, I've messed with the time on this post so it'll appear after the post with the original two drafts.
Apparently the re-edit wasn't up to snuff, either. So there's a cop out, sliced up version from the Editor-In-Chief. Who I still like, it's aping my voice, but lacks my message and comes off sort of sucking the IVCF's dick.
I have requested to have my name removed from it.
Here it is:
Squarin’ up with God
by Krister Rollins
It’s a sweating sea of tangled writhing bodies.
To clarify: They are all wearing clothes. And they are upright. And they are dancing. Square dancing.
The InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF) decided to host a night of square dancing, lassoing, apple bobbing, and food eating in Clark Gym.
Christina McKee, Outreach Coordinator for RIT’s chapter of the IVCF told me this was an “outreach event” and that they were trying to convince people that “being a Christian isn’t necessarily boring.” But the night almost didn’t happen. There was no band up until a week ago, as the previously contacted minstrels were called off to one of two other coincidental square dances held that very night. Luckily, they were able to piece a band together last minute.
The plan partially worked. There was a huge turn-out with people coming from as far off as Fredonia and Geneseo. However, it did seem like the majority of the attendees were already pretty familiar with IVCF. That said, they were certainly not all familiar faces as Christina did not recognize a bunch of people there, and was also pleasantly surprised by the number of deaf people on the floor. They all had a ball. Or square. The entire night I’m not sure I saw one frown.
As a further testament to the crowd’s enjoyment, the Clark Gym bleachers have never been so populated; and it was always just people sitting out for a round to rest up. No one seemed to mind the weird tarp covering the floor, the cut-in-half donuts, or the Drunken Interloper who came from nowhere and danced on the stage like an idiot until the guitarist politely requested he leave. Which he did.
Keith Hunt, the caller, who has been calling since the ‘50s said, “[it’s] great fun to see everyone dancing out there and having a good time. It’s really encouraging.”
What was interesting to me was how extreme everyone was in their keen intent on having a night of good natured fun. Nothing about the evening upset anyone, and I saw more radiating smiles and glowing happiness at this dance than at any large event I have been to. People happily enjoyed the donuts, sometimes even splitting the halves in half. The non-carbonated and, while it goes without saying, non-alcoholic drinks were consumed with equal fervor. While it may be counterintuitive to many, this event was proof that good clean fun really is a viable form of entertainment for college students.
Apparently the re-edit wasn't up to snuff, either. So there's a cop out, sliced up version from the Editor-In-Chief. Who I still like, it's aping my voice, but lacks my message and comes off sort of sucking the IVCF's dick.
I have requested to have my name removed from it.
Here it is:
Squarin’ up with God
by Krister Rollins
It’s a sweating sea of tangled writhing bodies.
To clarify: They are all wearing clothes. And they are upright. And they are dancing. Square dancing.
The InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF) decided to host a night of square dancing, lassoing, apple bobbing, and food eating in Clark Gym.
Christina McKee, Outreach Coordinator for RIT’s chapter of the IVCF told me this was an “outreach event” and that they were trying to convince people that “being a Christian isn’t necessarily boring.” But the night almost didn’t happen. There was no band up until a week ago, as the previously contacted minstrels were called off to one of two other coincidental square dances held that very night. Luckily, they were able to piece a band together last minute.
The plan partially worked. There was a huge turn-out with people coming from as far off as Fredonia and Geneseo. However, it did seem like the majority of the attendees were already pretty familiar with IVCF. That said, they were certainly not all familiar faces as Christina did not recognize a bunch of people there, and was also pleasantly surprised by the number of deaf people on the floor. They all had a ball. Or square. The entire night I’m not sure I saw one frown.
As a further testament to the crowd’s enjoyment, the Clark Gym bleachers have never been so populated; and it was always just people sitting out for a round to rest up. No one seemed to mind the weird tarp covering the floor, the cut-in-half donuts, or the Drunken Interloper who came from nowhere and danced on the stage like an idiot until the guitarist politely requested he leave. Which he did.
Keith Hunt, the caller, who has been calling since the ‘50s said, “[it’s] great fun to see everyone dancing out there and having a good time. It’s really encouraging.”
What was interesting to me was how extreme everyone was in their keen intent on having a night of good natured fun. Nothing about the evening upset anyone, and I saw more radiating smiles and glowing happiness at this dance than at any large event I have been to. People happily enjoyed the donuts, sometimes even splitting the halves in half. The non-carbonated and, while it goes without saying, non-alcoholic drinks were consumed with equal fervor. While it may be counterintuitive to many, this event was proof that good clean fun really is a viable form of entertainment for college students.
12.1.06
I'm keeping a dream journal rather inconsistently. I write as soon as I wake up, so my brain isn't always together. And this one was kind of a nightmare, so the writing is particularly...weird.
Anyway, here it is. Verbatim from my dream journal:
I've been having a recurring dream wherein I'm at an aquarium like a giant petting tank. It's huge. But the fish and lobsters are done with being there and they're attacking people. The lobsters in particular.
I was there with Joe Dube and he though the fish was trying to be his friend. A lobster threw him across the taken and I called at him to get out. He jumped out buy two people had already jumped in to save him. One was Jeremy, one might've been Jason Pierce. Jeremy got out right quick but Pierce started riding a lobster and it clamped him. Then, somehow, a lobster got out. On land they're surprisinly graceful and run like dder. A man and his daughter were completely unconcerned even though the lobster went to him first. "You just have to know you're not going to hurt it," he said, domonstrating by putting his hand on a lobster's mouth.
It didn't bite him.
As Joe and I walked away a lobster came up behind us and put a pincer on me. I focused and was able to walk away.
Then another. I focused. It's grip tightened.
Then I woke up.
And Bob Barker was there.
So, that was a weird dream. I've had it before, too, that's how I knew to tell Joe to get out of the water.
Anyway, here it is. Verbatim from my dream journal:
I've been having a recurring dream wherein I'm at an aquarium like a giant petting tank. It's huge. But the fish and lobsters are done with being there and they're attacking people. The lobsters in particular.
I was there with Joe Dube and he though the fish was trying to be his friend. A lobster threw him across the taken and I called at him to get out. He jumped out buy two people had already jumped in to save him. One was Jeremy, one might've been Jason Pierce. Jeremy got out right quick but Pierce started riding a lobster and it clamped him. Then, somehow, a lobster got out. On land they're surprisinly graceful and run like dder. A man and his daughter were completely unconcerned even though the lobster went to him first. "You just have to know you're not going to hurt it," he said, domonstrating by putting his hand on a lobster's mouth.
It didn't bite him.
As Joe and I walked away a lobster came up behind us and put a pincer on me. I focused and was able to walk away.
Then another. I focused. It's grip tightened.
Then I woke up.
And Bob Barker was there.
So, that was a weird dream. I've had it before, too, that's how I knew to tell Joe to get out of the water.
5.1.06
I'm cooking up a couple of ideas for comic books. Front of the pack right now, but that's not saying much, is an idea I'm calling "Hair." My way of describing it is "Like the Hulk, but with hair."
So this guy has a transformation where he basically turns into a hair monster. Like a Wookie, I guess, but not as big. And no mouth to see. I assume he has a mouth and he's just covered in the hair, but I haven't decided for certain yet. When he's not hair he's a rich socialite of some acclaim or another and then he has to figure out what's happening to him.
Should be amusing.
Also I don't think it's something he can easily stop. He's got to struggle with controlling it.
Maybe he's some really uptight guy most of the time, but then just goes fucking nuts when something happens. Kinda like Bruce Banner. Shit. This needs some work.
I still like it a lot though.
Also got an idea for a group of Undead Superheroes consisting of a Zombie, Frankenstein's Monster and Dracula. Call it "The Formerly Human, Formerly Deceased Defense League." I've got a bunch of characters for that one, but no plot to speak of as of yet. Less of one than I even have for Hair.
I've also got an idea for a comic called Squib about some high school kid coming to terms with his latent pyrokinetic abilites.
And that's that.
Krister, out.
So this guy has a transformation where he basically turns into a hair monster. Like a Wookie, I guess, but not as big. And no mouth to see. I assume he has a mouth and he's just covered in the hair, but I haven't decided for certain yet. When he's not hair he's a rich socialite of some acclaim or another and then he has to figure out what's happening to him.
Should be amusing.
Also I don't think it's something he can easily stop. He's got to struggle with controlling it.
Maybe he's some really uptight guy most of the time, but then just goes fucking nuts when something happens. Kinda like Bruce Banner. Shit. This needs some work.
I still like it a lot though.
Also got an idea for a group of Undead Superheroes consisting of a Zombie, Frankenstein's Monster and Dracula. Call it "The Formerly Human, Formerly Deceased Defense League." I've got a bunch of characters for that one, but no plot to speak of as of yet. Less of one than I even have for Hair.
I've also got an idea for a comic called Squib about some high school kid coming to terms with his latent pyrokinetic abilites.
And that's that.
Krister, out.
1.1.06
Something amusing. At least to me.
My mother's cousin got me a gift card to Wal-Mart, so I went in and perused their DVDs. I found Chinatown and while looking for something else that would fit on the card, I happened to look up at the girl across the video rack from me.
"Hmm," I thought to myself, "She looks an awful lot like Ashley Knight." Ashley Knight is, of course, sister to Melissa (my ex). It dawned on me Melissa might be in the store.
Sure enough, Melissa was right behind her. As soon as I saw her I wheeled around and started looking intently at the comforters. I don't know as I've ever worried about comforters mroe than that moment.
It was like in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas when they see the hitchhiker in the road and wheel around in the car. Or when they see Christina Ricci in the road and speed around again.
I didn't even think about it until later. But that was an amusing reaction, I think.
Other Stuff
Spent a lot of time with people other than Nick this break. Surprised me, made me happy. I really like the Portland social scene. It's cool. A lot of people in a lot of bars all within walking distance of each other.
Some people I haven't seen in a long time; Tiffany Dembowski, Heather Flick, Jess Nash, Morgan Demers, Donald Thibodeau, Matt Bassett and, most surprsingly, Jada Fitch. Also, Adam Towes.
Good times so far.
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