Jimmy Carter

I'm a real big fan of Jimmy Carter.

I won't argue that he was that great of a president. But his work as an ex-president is phenomenal. Habitat for Humanity, The Carter Center, his work in peace negotiations, monitoring elections and setting up relief programs all speak to a great human being. He's written 27 books since 1980. If I'm not mistaken, that's a book a year. He's an outspoken humanitarian. His moral system is top-notch.

What is there to critique? The damage done during his presidency was far outshined by that done during the Reagan administration and since then he's done nothing but solid, humanitarian works. Maybe people are upset that he speaks up when he sees his country violating every sense of decency it used to have. Say what you will about his term, but unprovoked bloodshed and torture were not public policy, even during the Iranian kidnapping thing.

Oh well. He's still my hero.

Road Trip Games

I was recently informed of a rather amusing road trip game where you replace a car's make (I think it's make) with the word "Anal." So instead of my Subaru Legacy it would turn into the Anal Legacy.

It's fun!

Anal Echo. Anal Explorer. Anal Lancer. Anal Matrix.

And so on.

Tee hee!

Memories

On this sort of dreary (semi-dismal) afternoon, I'm sitting around reading old journals. I'm working through the Europe one (not particularly old) and I came across this entry scribbled on the bottom of a page:

More Funny Swedish Words:
Uppensbar
En Bönas Vag
Parkering
bilboget
Braskaminer
flüger färg
Farthinder
Infart
Utfart

I don't know why it's "more" funny swedish words, this is the first entry with any.

I am writing this from work

All right, no simplicity post yet. My life has ...um... been a bit too complicated to post.

That's not true. I've just been lazy.

Works still going pretty well. I get a fair amount of chill time and dick around on the internets. I run teleprompters and edit. Today I found footage from 9/11.

Mostly this update is to point out a new edition to my webpage. It's replacing the happiness scale I was only ever sorta happy with. If you can figure out what its deal is and your name is not Nick... um... good for you?

EDIT: So, it turns out I actually completely updated the look of my profile. If it's showin' up all wonky for y'all, lemme know somehow. Most of my more dedicated readers (ha! get a life, Mom (just kidding, mom, please don't stop cooking me dinners)) already know how to contact me.

EDIT 2: I modified the title for a specific, post-related reason. See if y'all can figure it out.

EDIT 3: The gadget doo-dah thang is at the very bottom of the page.

Home

I have decided, after an evening of beer and cookery, that what really makes me feel at home is cooking a nice meal.

I've felt great all evening. I mean, I got up for work at 3 PM and worked from 4-7. Felt thoroughly exhausted. I stopped by Daddy's and played some acoustics and I went home and I cooked. I broiled a steak with a cut up jalapeño pepper on top of it - seeped in some nice spicy juices - and I made mashed potatoes and cooked up some beans. The apartment smelled really delicious. I drank a beer. I ate my food.

I felt great. The weather was nice. Work didn't kill me. I ate some quality foods I made by myself. I could get used to a situation like this. There's still the dishes to do, but whatever. I'm feeling on top of the world. Or at least nearby to the top of it.

And another thing that I'm really enjoying about my job: it doesn't follow me home. When I punch out at nine in the morning, I know I don't have to grade or plan or stay after to re-administer tests. I can leave my work AT work, where it belongs. Makes it much more enjoyable. Also, none of my interactions are with angsty/whiny/punky teens.

On that note, I'm going to go nap. Also, I've been thinking about simplicity a lot lately. I'll update with an elucidating post in a couple of days.

Rock on, Garth.

Krister

Mark of Quality

Chain restaurant slogans are an important reflection of the experience to be found inside.

Applebee's, for instance, is "eatin' good in the neighborhood." It's short, it's got rhyme and it emphasizes that you'll be eating a) close to home and b) a tasty meal. Hooter's is fairly forward about what you'll find inside with their "Delightfully tacky, yet unrefined." IHOP insists that you will fulfill the craving that brought you to their door with "Come hungry, leave happy." Domino's reminds you that they deliver: "Get the door, it's Domino's." Olive Garden opens it's faux-italian arms to you in saying, "When you're here, you're family." And Denny's, purveyor of late-night grease entices with "Always open."

Wait. That's it? Always open? You can't boast warmth, cheer or even satisfaction from the experience? How about: When you come a-knockin' some disgruntled, chain-smoking waitress with her hair in a bun and her two previous husband's rings stashed at home will serve you a plate of runny eggs, soggy bacon and a mug of black coffee brewed with no love, no joy, just genuine despair.

I guess that probably wouldn't fit on a billboard.

And check the time stamp, I just woke up for work.

Chapter Twenty-Eight; in which our hero prepares to move

Moving blows.

I'm moving out to Portland and I'm really keen about that. I'm excited for my roommates. I'm excited for the job I have. I'm excited to live in this city.

But I've gotta drag all my shit our from Sebago. I've got to paint walls this bland grey (grey?) color (colour?). I've got to paint my floors a slightly blander gray.

Ah well. It should be good times. I'll be out with friends and working at a job that isn't eating my soul. My favorite difference from editing and teaching is that once I leave work, I've left work. I never have any grading or lesson-plans to do at home. True, had I been an efficient or wise teacher, I might've been able to lessen that load BUT the fact is that first year teachers have ass-loads o' work.

I am, however, going to need a second job. Part time at $10.50 an hour is simply not enough to pay the bills. So I'm thinking I should become a server somewhere or something. Maybe a job that can hook me up with a free meal. Or maybe Bull Moose is hiring? That'd be pretty groovy, I think. I'm not looking for a lot of hours, just some extra moolah coming my way.

I picked up Spoon's album Gimme Fiction. Great idea. I bought it on Wednesday, I think, and I've basically listened to it non-stop since then. Which of course means I'll burn out on it, but it's good times until then. Right now I have the song "Was it you?" stuck in my head and it's intermingling with M. Ward's "Four Hours in Washington" off Transistor Radio.

Good tunes. Good times.

PS. Charles Bukowski is pretty cool.

IKEA Explained

For those of you who didn't know I am, and my father as well, named after a desk from IKEA.

Turns out there's a rhyme to their reason.

I'm not sure why, but I'm comforted by the fact that some day I may seat myself on a Knut and place my pen and paper on a Sven and start writing. And that I don't need to enslave a horde of friendly blonde folks to do it.

That Knut/Sven scenario also sorta sounds like it might come out of a S&M porn flick.

Oh, and I guess I'm back from Europe safe and sound but sans luggage. More updates later.

EDIT: Apparently, IKEA is discontinuing me or something. I'm a little pissed. BUT there's hope. I found another link to look at me (and dad) here. Enjoy.

OK, here goes

So, I was going to create a video blog, a la Ben's Bellflur trip, but decided I couldn't be bothered with it.

So I'll link you to relevant clips here.

This is the hotel I'm at tonight. It's the Hotel belfort. Or Belfort Hotel. I don't know. It smells a bit funny.

I tried to rent a bike. I think the video speaks for itself.

Another hotel. It's referenced in the Hotel Belfort vid!

A water hole. This is actually where the aformentioned reference comes in.

An open letter to the French Homeless peoples.

A funerary procession at Pêre Lachaise. James Morrison and Oscar Wilde (among others, I'm looking at you Eugene Delacroix) are in sitú there.

Amelie fans might recognize a cloudy Sacre Couer.

The Moulin Rouge.

An experimental video.

Some of these links might be lame for a while, but I swear I'll update them. I'm using some bar's WiFi at the moment. Only here in France they pronounce it "WeeFee." Cute! Check back here for all your Krister News!

Also, Mom in particular, that last video is, in fact, a joke. Playing off all the depressed kids who are looking to be disenchanted with things. It's wonderful here.

Holy crap, I just ate a really spicy peppercorn off these peppered olives. Man! Whoo. I hope no one looks over and sees me crying in a bar. I mean, I wasn't crying. It barely tasted like anything. Someone hand me a boot full of vodka to drink.

Ha!

Cool. Jon Lovitz rocks socks.

Carry on.