According to my Simpsons calendar, tomorrow is Smarch 1st, which is also the birthday of Mike Rotch (born 1854). It's a month full of famous birthdays from Santos L. Halper to Seymour Butts to Betty Symington. And we can't forget Scotchtoberfest (Smarch 6th). That's a good time. It teaches us important things about Scottish culture, like how the kilt was only used for day-to-day wear, and they wore sequined ballroom gowns in battle to blind the opponent with luxury.
The only problem with Smarch is the weather. It's lousy.
6.30.2006
On My Soon-To-Be-Amputated Leg
I keep my cell phone in my left pocket at all times (except when I'm sleeping), and it's beginning to take it's toll. The radiation is getting to me. In about 10-15 years, I'll probably have a tumor and have to lose the leg. So I want to get used to it now while I still can. That's why I'm going to the doctor's in two weeks to get it removed. I'll have a week off for physical therapy, and in about a month, I should be back to peak condition. Of course, I won't be able to play soccer as well as I used to, but I feel like I'd be better off leaving my promising soccer career behind for the sake of my future health and well-being. You guys are all welcome to visit me in the hospital, and I'd really appreciate it if you signed my prosthetic limb. It's like a cast, only creepier.
On What May Be the Worst Movie I've Ever Seen
The Fog, 2005.
John Carpenter is in that special class of directors that made a few awe-inspiring movies before making nothing but crap for the last 20-30 years of their careers. See also Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas.
John Carpenter did not direct this remake of his own movie, but he produced, and putting your stamp of approval on such an abyssmal piece of work is almost worse than creating it (see FFC's involvement in Jeepers Creepers and Jeepers Creepers 2). If you create it, at least people can say that you tried and failed. If you produce, all people will think is that you saw this disastrous failure and decided you wanted to be a part of it. You let it drag you down.
So The Fog is not only not scary--that's OK, I'm used to horror movies not being scary anymore--but it's also one of the most anticlimactic anythings I've ever witnessed. While the killing has no point, you can at least follow it through to the end...until the ghost decides to take a wife and return to the sea without reason. I'll admit that it's an interesting concept though: ghost terrorizes town for revenge, forsakes revenge for woman, rests quietly in watery grave. I guess I can't fault John Carpenter cuz I definitely would have produced that movie too.
John Carpenter is in that special class of directors that made a few awe-inspiring movies before making nothing but crap for the last 20-30 years of their careers. See also Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas.
John Carpenter did not direct this remake of his own movie, but he produced, and putting your stamp of approval on such an abyssmal piece of work is almost worse than creating it (see FFC's involvement in Jeepers Creepers and Jeepers Creepers 2). If you create it, at least people can say that you tried and failed. If you produce, all people will think is that you saw this disastrous failure and decided you wanted to be a part of it. You let it drag you down.
So The Fog is not only not scary--that's OK, I'm used to horror movies not being scary anymore--but it's also one of the most anticlimactic anythings I've ever witnessed. While the killing has no point, you can at least follow it through to the end...until the ghost decides to take a wife and return to the sea without reason. I'll admit that it's an interesting concept though: ghost terrorizes town for revenge, forsakes revenge for woman, rests quietly in watery grave. I guess I can't fault John Carpenter cuz I definitely would have produced that movie too.
On My Blog Title
In this blog's short history, I've gotten not a single question about the title. It's a little bit surprising that everybody thinks they understand what the right- or left-handed nature of garbage and recycling is all about. Because they probably don't.
Here's the story behind it. When my brother and I were younger, we had to take out the garbage and recycling every Tuesday or Wednesday night so it would be picked up the next morning. He used to get confused about which would go on which side of the driveway. So one day I told him this mnemonic device I'd developed to remember which goes on which side. It's garbage: left, recycling: right. Not mnemonic at all, really. So we laughed a bit, and now both of us will never forget. He told me recently he still thinks of that when he takes them out.
So that's what this blog means to me. It's a way to remember things. I guess. And I think it's funny.
Here's the story behind it. When my brother and I were younger, we had to take out the garbage and recycling every Tuesday or Wednesday night so it would be picked up the next morning. He used to get confused about which would go on which side of the driveway. So one day I told him this mnemonic device I'd developed to remember which goes on which side. It's garbage: left, recycling: right. Not mnemonic at all, really. So we laughed a bit, and now both of us will never forget. He told me recently he still thinks of that when he takes them out.
So that's what this blog means to me. It's a way to remember things. I guess. And I think it's funny.
6.28.2006
Beyond the Boundaries of Portugal
In my Chicago adventures, I went to the world-famous Art Institute of Chicago. Thankfully I found the modern European galleries right away so that I didn't have to waste my time with crap. While I enjoyed seeing the work of my homies, particularly Constantin Brancusi, Joan Miro, and Alberto Giacometti, I also discovered an awesome unheard of Protugese artist by the name of Amadeo de Souza Cardoso.
Examples:
This isn't another leap forward in my cultural elitism (who knows; I may start claiming to be part Portugese); it's a reminder that we ought not forget Portugal. They were the first people to sail around the world, they illegalized bull killing in bullfighting, and now they had an artist nearly 100 years ago that will not be soon forgot again.
Examples:
This isn't another leap forward in my cultural elitism (who knows; I may start claiming to be part Portugese); it's a reminder that we ought not forget Portugal. They were the first people to sail around the world, they illegalized bull killing in bullfighting, and now they had an artist nearly 100 years ago that will not be soon forgot again.
New Life Plan
Suddenly out of nowhere last night, my brother and I decided that we're going to open a playhouse in two years. Why? Why not. We'll write our own plays and direct our own productions and be incredibly off-the-wall, as the Robison brothers are wont to do.
I can't tell how serious we are, but I don't think it matters.
I can't tell how serious we are, but I don't think it matters.
6.26.2006
Greetings from Chicago
Contrary to what I told most people of my vacation plans, I spent nearly the entire long-weekend in Chicago. Got to Madison on Thursday night then left Madison Friday afternoon, so I think my time in Madison came in somewhere between 20 and 24 hours. Not nearly enough time to enjoy Madison, but it was enough to help me realize that Madison's only great between the ages of 18 and 22.
So Chicago's pretty cool. I'm staying with sister, and as we're both the artsy types, we've done a fair number of artsy things. I think we covered every category of art, actually. Visual, literary, performance, and music. And architecture if you count driving past, being in, and admiring buildings. And culinary if you count eating.
Dave and I drove in on Friday evening and met Beth. We had dinner at El Taco Rodeo, a fastish foodish taco place that's slower than Taco Bell or Chipotle, but faster than Don Pablo's or something. The name still confuses me because it's like saying the Taco Wild Horse-Riding Bonanza. Or, since Spanish reverses the adjective/noun order, it's like the Wild Horse-Riding Bonanza-flavored taco. I prefer the latter.
On Saturday, Jenna (my sister) and I went to the MCA (Museum of Contemporary Art) and saw a contemporary photographer (Wolfgang Tillmans)'s exhibition. It was very good and very thought-provoking. There were many times where I felt like the art, and that was weird. Also, it seems like he doesn't do anything that's supposed to be liked or disliked. It all just is, which is a fine thing for art, but not that interesting to talk about on my irreverent blog. My favorite was one of people blowing bubbles in a park.
I also met Jenna's psychology grad student buddies, all of whom are cool. Most interesting, though, is their fascination with text messaging. They don't really "communicate" via text, though, as you and I would communicate in real life. For instance, they sometimes just send their canned messages like, "The meeting is canceled," or "I'm busy." And yesterday, Jenna and Sarah were texting 80s lyrics back and forth. And a lot of this happens while they're in the same room or sitting right next to each other. This is excellent, and I think we should all start doing it. If we can't afford text messages, we should all carry notecards and pens.
Sunday (yesterday) we went to see a play and a concert. The play was entitled The Beauty Queen of Leenane, and it was by one of my favorite Irish playwrights, Martin McDonagh. It's your typical slice-of-life story, but then there are a few crazies, and someone gets murdered. Perfect recipe for engaging drama. The concert was Bloc Party, headliners of the Intonation Music Festival. We only went for Bloc Party (though we also saw Dead Prez's whole set...and it was not good), and twenty buckaroos for that one band is money well spent. They played some new stuff too, which is good, because I probably won't buy their new album.
Now today I am at Jenna's apartment alone while she is at school. I will soon go get a calzone, and soon after that will meet her at Millenium Park, which I know nothing about (other than that it wasn't finished until four years after the millenium mark). And then a Cubs game. Fun? Why, sure!
And tomorrow I head back to Minneapolis, for which I now have a greater appreciation. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I definitely don't buy that crap, but Minneapolis is still pretty good, I guess.
So Chicago's pretty cool. I'm staying with sister, and as we're both the artsy types, we've done a fair number of artsy things. I think we covered every category of art, actually. Visual, literary, performance, and music. And architecture if you count driving past, being in, and admiring buildings. And culinary if you count eating.
Dave and I drove in on Friday evening and met Beth. We had dinner at El Taco Rodeo, a fastish foodish taco place that's slower than Taco Bell or Chipotle, but faster than Don Pablo's or something. The name still confuses me because it's like saying the Taco Wild Horse-Riding Bonanza. Or, since Spanish reverses the adjective/noun order, it's like the Wild Horse-Riding Bonanza-flavored taco. I prefer the latter.
On Saturday, Jenna (my sister) and I went to the MCA (Museum of Contemporary Art) and saw a contemporary photographer (Wolfgang Tillmans)'s exhibition. It was very good and very thought-provoking. There were many times where I felt like the art, and that was weird. Also, it seems like he doesn't do anything that's supposed to be liked or disliked. It all just is, which is a fine thing for art, but not that interesting to talk about on my irreverent blog. My favorite was one of people blowing bubbles in a park.
I also met Jenna's psychology grad student buddies, all of whom are cool. Most interesting, though, is their fascination with text messaging. They don't really "communicate" via text, though, as you and I would communicate in real life. For instance, they sometimes just send their canned messages like, "The meeting is canceled," or "I'm busy." And yesterday, Jenna and Sarah were texting 80s lyrics back and forth. And a lot of this happens while they're in the same room or sitting right next to each other. This is excellent, and I think we should all start doing it. If we can't afford text messages, we should all carry notecards and pens.
Sunday (yesterday) we went to see a play and a concert. The play was entitled The Beauty Queen of Leenane, and it was by one of my favorite Irish playwrights, Martin McDonagh. It's your typical slice-of-life story, but then there are a few crazies, and someone gets murdered. Perfect recipe for engaging drama. The concert was Bloc Party, headliners of the Intonation Music Festival. We only went for Bloc Party (though we also saw Dead Prez's whole set...and it was not good), and twenty buckaroos for that one band is money well spent. They played some new stuff too, which is good, because I probably won't buy their new album.
Now today I am at Jenna's apartment alone while she is at school. I will soon go get a calzone, and soon after that will meet her at Millenium Park, which I know nothing about (other than that it wasn't finished until four years after the millenium mark). And then a Cubs game. Fun? Why, sure!
And tomorrow I head back to Minneapolis, for which I now have a greater appreciation. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I definitely don't buy that crap, but Minneapolis is still pretty good, I guess.
6.21.2006
Empty as the Universe
As usual, I have nothing to do today. And as happens every few weeks or so, I'm not enjoying the distractions that make the day go by. I quit the stupid literature forum, I forgot to bring my novel so I can't work on that, I can only check sports updates so often, and I don't feel like reading B.M. Bower's Flying U Ranch. So I guess it's back to blogging. Expect nonsense.
Like this.
There were these two dogs walking through the woods. One was big, the other was small. "I like being small," the small one said. "So do I," said the big one. "But you're big," the small one replied. "So are you," said the big one. And the small one exploded. Turns out he was an evil robot.
Like this.
There were these two dogs walking through the woods. One was big, the other was small. "I like being small," the small one said. "So do I," said the big one. "But you're big," the small one replied. "So are you," said the big one. And the small one exploded. Turns out he was an evil robot.
6.20.2006
The Best Man
They say, "To the victor go the spoils," and I'm not really sure how that applies, but I'm going to be the best man at my friend Dave's wedding! I'm excited, especially because Chad's going to help me out with everything, so I don't have to deal with all the pressure of planning a bachelor party on my own.
But the speech. People seem to think I'd be good at this, but I doubt. People also seem to think I'd be funny, but I doubt that as well. Here are some of the drafts I've been working on:
I've known Dave for about six or seven years now. We met on the cross-country skiing team, and one of my first memories of him was nicknaming one of the skiers "Strap-on." We had a lot of laughs back in those days, but that's all over now that Dave's married!
I can't imagine a better girl for Dave than Beth. Of course, my roommate didn't think so. There were so many times he tried to steal Beth from Dave. That sure was awkward.
It didn't take me long to realize that Dave and Beth were meant to be together. Like the time we went out for Beth's birthday--that's when I knew they were really in love. We were all going to this party when Dave started talking about how he used to have a crush on this one girl from high school, so Beth got really angry and turned around. Dave, the caring guy that he is, followed her to fix the problem, leaving me and my two roommates abandoned on some corner with no idea where this party was. (Turning to the happy couple) Here's to you guys!
But the speech. People seem to think I'd be good at this, but I doubt. People also seem to think I'd be funny, but I doubt that as well. Here are some of the drafts I've been working on:
I've known Dave for about six or seven years now. We met on the cross-country skiing team, and one of my first memories of him was nicknaming one of the skiers "Strap-on." We had a lot of laughs back in those days, but that's all over now that Dave's married!
I can't imagine a better girl for Dave than Beth. Of course, my roommate didn't think so. There were so many times he tried to steal Beth from Dave. That sure was awkward.
It didn't take me long to realize that Dave and Beth were meant to be together. Like the time we went out for Beth's birthday--that's when I knew they were really in love. We were all going to this party when Dave started talking about how he used to have a crush on this one girl from high school, so Beth got really angry and turned around. Dave, the caring guy that he is, followed her to fix the problem, leaving me and my two roommates abandoned on some corner with no idea where this party was. (Turning to the happy couple) Here's to you guys!
6.19.2006
That Week I Tried To Learn Guitar
I just remembered how I once tried to guitar. Thank God I gave that up quick. I'm a very efficient quitter. I don't waste my time keeping up with something that I'll eventually abandon. That's an important lesson. Think of the months that I would have lost to that guitar. I can't remember what I did in those months...but I'm sure it was better than playing stupid guitar.
I would, however, like to thank the one and only Bunkhuon Chhun for giving me the only guitar lesson I ever had. I also think he let me borrow his guitar. You rule, Bun.
I would, however, like to thank the one and only Bunkhuon Chhun for giving me the only guitar lesson I ever had. I also think he let me borrow his guitar. You rule, Bun.
In the Spirit of Returned Internet and Something Like Three Days Without Blogging
I've been without internet for the past six hours. So now is time to celebrate!
Let's talk about what happened this weekend. But I don't want to be like, "So I went to the store and bought some rice and then I cooked the rice and cleaned my toilet..." so I'm going to put it in fictional narrative form. I'm sure it won't make any sense, but what does?
It all began with the rain, and then the rain stopped, but everything else kept going. And then it started raining again, but that wasn't until later. It rained when I drove to church, and it rained during church. When church was over, it kept raining, and the creek rose to new levels and nearly sunk a few cars. When the rain stopped and the creek retreated, it was muddy to walk on and I nearly slipped and fell, which would have been especially bad considering the zombies. They, the zombies, didn't start chasing me until I left the church--perhaps symbolic?--and they chased me for the rest of the weekend. They even came to the party I went to, and they danced a lot and made out with the least interesting people. Some of them stayed when I left because zombies get drunk easily, and I wouldn't let them drive. On Father's Day, the zombies mostly backed off. It might have been because I was playing with rabbits. I ate the chickens and the fish, but I played with the rabbits. That was the rule. And afterwards, I traveled back in time to roughly four weeks earlier and was nearly crushed by a jet engine.
Let's talk about what happened this weekend. But I don't want to be like, "So I went to the store and bought some rice and then I cooked the rice and cleaned my toilet..." so I'm going to put it in fictional narrative form. I'm sure it won't make any sense, but what does?
It all began with the rain, and then the rain stopped, but everything else kept going. And then it started raining again, but that wasn't until later. It rained when I drove to church, and it rained during church. When church was over, it kept raining, and the creek rose to new levels and nearly sunk a few cars. When the rain stopped and the creek retreated, it was muddy to walk on and I nearly slipped and fell, which would have been especially bad considering the zombies. They, the zombies, didn't start chasing me until I left the church--perhaps symbolic?--and they chased me for the rest of the weekend. They even came to the party I went to, and they danced a lot and made out with the least interesting people. Some of them stayed when I left because zombies get drunk easily, and I wouldn't let them drive. On Father's Day, the zombies mostly backed off. It might have been because I was playing with rabbits. I ate the chickens and the fish, but I played with the rabbits. That was the rule. And afterwards, I traveled back in time to roughly four weeks earlier and was nearly crushed by a jet engine.
6.15.2006
Wellness Seminar
Today I have a wellness seminar. There have been a lot of changes on my team at work (meaning a lot of people quit in the past two months), so they scheduled this seminar on "Managing Change."
My initial response: WHAT A GIANT LOAD OF CRAP. My secondary response: Same thing, only not in capital letters.
But you know, come to think of it, there are a few things I need to talk about. These things include:
1. Grief after I changed my name to Seymour
2. Stress and paranoia related to the decline in coffee availability, though I never drink coffee at the workplace
3. Fear and more paranoia about our team being filled with witches and demons
4. A lot of crying for no apparent reason
Here's to burning the building down.
My initial response: WHAT A GIANT LOAD OF CRAP. My secondary response: Same thing, only not in capital letters.
But you know, come to think of it, there are a few things I need to talk about. These things include:
1. Grief after I changed my name to Seymour
2. Stress and paranoia related to the decline in coffee availability, though I never drink coffee at the workplace
3. Fear and more paranoia about our team being filled with witches and demons
4. A lot of crying for no apparent reason
Here's to burning the building down.
6.14.2006
I'm Like a Teenage Girl
Everyone I work with is older than me. The youngest is older by four years. So I feel like the baby.
Yesterday, while I was complaining about everyone being older, one of my coworkers suggested I go to the other side of the building and work with the people my age. I said no way cuz they're all idiots. So this led to the teenage girl comparison: I'm like that teenage girl who won't date anyone her own age because they're so immature.
So thanks to the kind-hearted abuse of my colleagues, I'll never complain about feeling young again.
Yesterday, while I was complaining about everyone being older, one of my coworkers suggested I go to the other side of the building and work with the people my age. I said no way cuz they're all idiots. So this led to the teenage girl comparison: I'm like that teenage girl who won't date anyone her own age because they're so immature.
So thanks to the kind-hearted abuse of my colleagues, I'll never complain about feeling young again.
6.12.2006
The Peace Corps Application, Spleen Section
So the Peace Corps needs me to fill out a "health status" form. Basically explaining if I have any current health issues. But some of the questions are very bizarre. One in particular stood out:
"Have you ever had a missing spleen?"
I guess I wouldn't know. If my spleen decided to run away or something, I don't think I'd notice it was gone. So it better not be trying to teach me a lesson.
(Note: They qualify the question with "as a result of surgery," but that's in parentheses, so I didn't notice.)
"Have you ever had a missing spleen?"
I guess I wouldn't know. If my spleen decided to run away or something, I don't think I'd notice it was gone. So it better not be trying to teach me a lesson.
(Note: They qualify the question with "as a result of surgery," but that's in parentheses, so I didn't notice.)
6.09.2006
Not Quite Written in Stone
By the end of the day, my Peace Corps application will be submitted.
I've been thinking a lot about jobs and stuff, and I realized (thanks very recently to the one and only Dan Waller) that what you do is very much a part of what you are. Dan is an engineer. His identity has a lot to do with engineering. It is not everything he is, but it is a lot. It is part of his life. He cares about it. Engineering.
In the same way, I am not a whatever-it-is-I-do. I don't enjoy it. I don't want it to have anything to do with who I am. So it's time I move on. If life is about what you do, if what you do is all that matters, and I believe that, then I need to start doing something of value. For me, that begins with the Peace Corps.
Countdown to me leaving: 9 months.
I've been thinking a lot about jobs and stuff, and I realized (thanks very recently to the one and only Dan Waller) that what you do is very much a part of what you are. Dan is an engineer. His identity has a lot to do with engineering. It is not everything he is, but it is a lot. It is part of his life. He cares about it. Engineering.
In the same way, I am not a whatever-it-is-I-do. I don't enjoy it. I don't want it to have anything to do with who I am. So it's time I move on. If life is about what you do, if what you do is all that matters, and I believe that, then I need to start doing something of value. For me, that begins with the Peace Corps.
Countdown to me leaving: 9 months.
I Watched The Notebook
Now that I've seen The Notebook, I can say confidently that I don't know what to think about it. It was stupid, and it was good. It was funny, and it was lame. And thinking about it is confusing me. But I did learn a few lessons about true love.
Lesson #1: True love is doin' it in a really dirty condemned plantation house.
Lesson #2: True love is being able to stand that your boy didn't build a porch around the whole house like he promised.
Lesson #3: True love is a dementia freak-out.
Lesson #4: Even a love story needs at least one explosion.
Lesson #1: True love is doin' it in a really dirty condemned plantation house.
Lesson #2: True love is being able to stand that your boy didn't build a porch around the whole house like he promised.
Lesson #3: True love is a dementia freak-out.
Lesson #4: Even a love story needs at least one explosion.
My Thoughts on the Nobel Prize
Alfred Nobel, if that is his real name, was a genius. If I had invented one of the most destructive weapons known to man, I don't think I would have had the foresight to set up a humanitarian award to completely change my legacy. But Nobel did just that. And it worked...or so it seemed. Here's why I think the Novel Prize is a fraud!
The Nobel Prizes for Chemistry and Physics: What's the difference? And what's the big deal? Sure, there's probably been some important things done in this field, but do they really deserve a gold medal, a bunch of money, and a diploma? Maybe.
The Nobel Prize for Medicine: Honestly, I hadn't heard about this one until I started writing this thing. It seems good enough, like it really promotes people who are improving lives. But they only give it to the researchers. One guy got one for something with a respiratory enzyme. Who cares? Nobody even knows what that's for. What about the doctors who are actually saving lives? What about M.A.S.H? Where's Hawkeye's Nobel Prize?
The Nobel Prize for Literature: This one I have no problems with. Except that they gave it to Harold Pinter. Hey Nobel Prize Committee, you already gave Beckett the prize.
The Nobel Prize for Economics: So much wrong with this one. The Committee started it in 1968, 72 years after Nobel died and 64 years after the Prize began. I'm pretty sure economics were not in the original conception. Also, there are just enough economics people in the world that I bet everyone gets a Nobel Prize sooner or later. I wouldn't be surprised if this prize was started by a secret economics society. Like those Hasidics in Pi.
The Nobel Peace Prize: How did Theodore Roosevelt win this? In nearly all other cases, I approve.
The Nobel Prizes for Chemistry and Physics: What's the difference? And what's the big deal? Sure, there's probably been some important things done in this field, but do they really deserve a gold medal, a bunch of money, and a diploma? Maybe.
The Nobel Prize for Medicine: Honestly, I hadn't heard about this one until I started writing this thing. It seems good enough, like it really promotes people who are improving lives. But they only give it to the researchers. One guy got one for something with a respiratory enzyme. Who cares? Nobody even knows what that's for. What about the doctors who are actually saving lives? What about M.A.S.H? Where's Hawkeye's Nobel Prize?
The Nobel Prize for Literature: This one I have no problems with. Except that they gave it to Harold Pinter. Hey Nobel Prize Committee, you already gave Beckett the prize.
The Nobel Prize for Economics: So much wrong with this one. The Committee started it in 1968, 72 years after Nobel died and 64 years after the Prize began. I'm pretty sure economics were not in the original conception. Also, there are just enough economics people in the world that I bet everyone gets a Nobel Prize sooner or later. I wouldn't be surprised if this prize was started by a secret economics society. Like those Hasidics in Pi.
The Nobel Peace Prize: How did Theodore Roosevelt win this? In nearly all other cases, I approve.
6.07.2006
It's Not My Birthday
Four months (minus one day) ago, it was my birthday.
Today I got a belated birthday card. Today being four months after my birthday.
At work we have this deal where the person who had a birthday before you buys you a cake and gets a card signed by all your coworkers. The guy who did it for me only got me the cake. It was a great cake, and I never had a thing for cards, so I was fine.
Yesterday I told a coworker that I never got a card. So she decided to buy a card for me today.
Everybody said nice things, and it's great, so I definitely appreciate it. The important thing, though, is that I set a new record: I stretched my birthday out for a full four months. It took four months for my birthday celebration to be complete. I win.
Today I got a belated birthday card. Today being four months after my birthday.
At work we have this deal where the person who had a birthday before you buys you a cake and gets a card signed by all your coworkers. The guy who did it for me only got me the cake. It was a great cake, and I never had a thing for cards, so I was fine.
Yesterday I told a coworker that I never got a card. So she decided to buy a card for me today.
Everybody said nice things, and it's great, so I definitely appreciate it. The important thing, though, is that I set a new record: I stretched my birthday out for a full four months. It took four months for my birthday celebration to be complete. I win.
A Miracle of Timing, Positioning, and Rubber
It is a miracle that I am here blogging to you today. Not one of those "every day is a miracle" miracles but a "Thank GOD I didn't die" miracle.
I nearly caused what could have been a two-lane multiple-car crash this morning. I was changing into the lane to my left, going about 50, and I changed a little bit hesitantly. When I was just pulling into the lane and double-checking my blind spot, the cars in front of me slowed down very suddenly. I had to slam on my brakes--literally slam. My tires squealed. That's how I knew it was serious. There probably should have been a crash.
I thank GOD all the time when I'm driving and narrowly miss small disasters. Let's face it, I'm one of the world's worst drivers. I quite simply wouldn't survive on the roads day to day without the hand of God protecting me.
So I got to thinking...maybe I should start trying to be a better driver. Maybe I trust God with my life too much. And then I laughed.
I nearly caused what could have been a two-lane multiple-car crash this morning. I was changing into the lane to my left, going about 50, and I changed a little bit hesitantly. When I was just pulling into the lane and double-checking my blind spot, the cars in front of me slowed down very suddenly. I had to slam on my brakes--literally slam. My tires squealed. That's how I knew it was serious. There probably should have been a crash.
I thank GOD all the time when I'm driving and narrowly miss small disasters. Let's face it, I'm one of the world's worst drivers. I quite simply wouldn't survive on the roads day to day without the hand of God protecting me.
So I got to thinking...maybe I should start trying to be a better driver. Maybe I trust God with my life too much. And then I laughed.
6.06.2006
New York Review of Books, Explain Yourself!
Dear afore-mentioned magazine and magazine-related enterprises,
Why did you send me an invitation to subscribe to your periodical? Usually people (or entities pretending to be people (or loan sharks pretending to be entities pretending to be people)) preface their requests for my money with a kindly worded letter explaining why my money would be happier with them. You, New York Review of Books, offend me in not doing so. Aside from the blatant social disregard, I can't even understand your invoice. What am I to make of this "Professional Rate" you offer me? Why is it special? What about my personality recommends me to the professional rate as opposed to the apprentice rate or the amateur rate? No, New York Review of Books, I refuse to subscribe until you can adequately address these concerns. Thank you for your time.
Ben
Why did you send me an invitation to subscribe to your periodical? Usually people (or entities pretending to be people (or loan sharks pretending to be entities pretending to be people)) preface their requests for my money with a kindly worded letter explaining why my money would be happier with them. You, New York Review of Books, offend me in not doing so. Aside from the blatant social disregard, I can't even understand your invoice. What am I to make of this "Professional Rate" you offer me? Why is it special? What about my personality recommends me to the professional rate as opposed to the apprentice rate or the amateur rate? No, New York Review of Books, I refuse to subscribe until you can adequately address these concerns. Thank you for your time.
Ben
Reptilian
I almost wish I was cold-blooded. On the one hand, it'd be a pain to have to plan your life around adjusting your body temperature, but on the other hand, it'd be nice to enjoy some time in the sun or in the shade and just chill out for a while. It'd also be a good reason to take a break from work. "Sorry, boss, but I have to go lie out on a rock for a while until my temperature gets back to normal." Or if you want an excuse to get out a social engagement, you could always say, "I'd love to, but I can't go outside until my temperature gets back to normal." Those are just the selfish reasons, though. I'm sure it'd be good for the world as a whole too. If everyone was cold-blooded, they'd have to take some time out from politics and war and stuff, and while they're resting on that rock in the sun, maybe they'd learn that they can solve their problems without violence. It would make life so much simpler.
Man, lizards have it made.
Man, lizards have it made.
6.05.2006
Pan-Fantastic
Sometimes I wish I could record all the great things that happen to slash around me, but I'm afraid there's no way. There's my deficient memory, constant distractions, the fact that I never have pen nor paper with me, and my shallow attention span or weak attention talent, to name a few. So, in typical Ben fashion, I've decided to personify all these things and make a 15th century morality play about how I make it through my day.
BEN: Well, Lord, today's gonna be a great day. I pray for--
DISTRACTION: Hey, isn't this a delicious bagel?
BEN: Why, yes, Distraction, it most certainly is. How kind of you to point that out.
DISTRACTION: My pleasure, good sir. And look over there, it's a blimp!
BEN: A blimp? I love blimps!
POOR MEMORY: You love what?
BEN: I love...I don't remember.
DISTRACTION: Wow, somebody set off a car alarm!
BEN: I should really be getting to work.
POOR MEMORY: I forget where to go.
BEN: Umm....
LACK OF PEN OR PAPER: Don't look at me.
Upon arrival at work two hours late...
BEN: Wow, that sure was some fun adventure!
POOR MEMORY: What happened?
DISTRACTION: I really have to pee, guys.
ATTENION SPAN: (Yawns)
BEN: I'm pretty sure there's something I was supposed to do when I got here.
DISTRACTION: Hey, this seems like a cool email.
BEN: Haha, that's pretty funny. Maybe I'll post that on my blog.
POOR MEMORY: Where am I?
BEN: Oh right! I'm at work! I shouldn't be blogging.
ATTENTION SPAN: You shouldn't be working either.
DISTRACTION: Can you do crossword puzzles on the internet here?
BEN: You're right, I've worked enough for the day. I think I'll study Spanish.
ATTENTION SPAN: Like you can do that for more than two seconds.
BEN: Sure I can! Just--
DISTRACTION: Is it raining?
BEN: My car windows are open!
POOR MEMORY: When did you get a car?
LACK OF PEN AND PAPER: I forgot to write it down. I'm sorry.
POOR MEMORY: I've never seen you before in my life.
DISTRACTION: It's cold in here. What did you just say?
BEN: Maybe I'll read something.
ATTENTION SPAN: You already tried that.
POOR MEMORY: No he didn't.
ATTENTION SPAN: How do you know?
POOR MEMORY: Umm....
BEN: That was different. That was Spanish.
DISTRACTION: I should get a sombrero.
BEN: That'd be sweet.
DISTRACTION: (Screaming) Wow that airplane is loud!
POOR MEMORY: What's an airplane? I mean, what does loud mean?
ATTENTION SPAN: I'm done.
MY BOSS: You're fired.
BEN: I'm what?
DISTRACTION: FIRE!
POOR MEMORY: You're what?
BEN: Stop, drop, and--
DISTRACTION: I'm gonna catch that squirrel over there! (Runs through window, breaking glass)
MY BOSS: Be out by the end of the day.
BEN: OK.
POOR MEMORY: See you tomorrow!
DISTRACTION: (Off stage) Whoa! A blimp!
BEN: Well, Lord, today's gonna be a great day. I pray for--
DISTRACTION: Hey, isn't this a delicious bagel?
BEN: Why, yes, Distraction, it most certainly is. How kind of you to point that out.
DISTRACTION: My pleasure, good sir. And look over there, it's a blimp!
BEN: A blimp? I love blimps!
POOR MEMORY: You love what?
BEN: I love...I don't remember.
DISTRACTION: Wow, somebody set off a car alarm!
BEN: I should really be getting to work.
POOR MEMORY: I forget where to go.
BEN: Umm....
LACK OF PEN OR PAPER: Don't look at me.
Upon arrival at work two hours late...
BEN: Wow, that sure was some fun adventure!
POOR MEMORY: What happened?
DISTRACTION: I really have to pee, guys.
ATTENION SPAN: (Yawns)
BEN: I'm pretty sure there's something I was supposed to do when I got here.
DISTRACTION: Hey, this seems like a cool email.
BEN: Haha, that's pretty funny. Maybe I'll post that on my blog.
POOR MEMORY: Where am I?
BEN: Oh right! I'm at work! I shouldn't be blogging.
ATTENTION SPAN: You shouldn't be working either.
DISTRACTION: Can you do crossword puzzles on the internet here?
BEN: You're right, I've worked enough for the day. I think I'll study Spanish.
ATTENTION SPAN: Like you can do that for more than two seconds.
BEN: Sure I can! Just--
DISTRACTION: Is it raining?
BEN: My car windows are open!
POOR MEMORY: When did you get a car?
LACK OF PEN AND PAPER: I forgot to write it down. I'm sorry.
POOR MEMORY: I've never seen you before in my life.
DISTRACTION: It's cold in here. What did you just say?
BEN: Maybe I'll read something.
ATTENTION SPAN: You already tried that.
POOR MEMORY: No he didn't.
ATTENTION SPAN: How do you know?
POOR MEMORY: Umm....
BEN: That was different. That was Spanish.
DISTRACTION: I should get a sombrero.
BEN: That'd be sweet.
DISTRACTION: (Screaming) Wow that airplane is loud!
POOR MEMORY: What's an airplane? I mean, what does loud mean?
ATTENTION SPAN: I'm done.
MY BOSS: You're fired.
BEN: I'm what?
DISTRACTION: FIRE!
POOR MEMORY: You're what?
BEN: Stop, drop, and--
DISTRACTION: I'm gonna catch that squirrel over there! (Runs through window, breaking glass)
MY BOSS: Be out by the end of the day.
BEN: OK.
POOR MEMORY: See you tomorrow!
DISTRACTION: (Off stage) Whoa! A blimp!
6.04.2006
To The Punks
Hey Punks,
Shut up.
Also, join the fantasy football league that has Winston Churchill saying, "It's like I've died and nothing happened," The Fields of Gold!*
via Yahoo Fantasy Sports
League ID: 13593
Password: ...on second thought, let's not post the password. If you wanna join, comment or email me, and then I'll email you the password. I don't want strangers from blogger invading us.
To the naysayers who say nay and also say that football season is six months away, I say yea and also that football season is actually only four months away. So there.
Invite your fellow punks and punk friends!
*I don't like Sting that much. The league name just happened.
Shut up.
Also, join the fantasy football league that has Winston Churchill saying, "It's like I've died and nothing happened," The Fields of Gold!*
via Yahoo Fantasy Sports
League ID: 13593
Password: ...on second thought, let's not post the password. If you wanna join, comment or email me, and then I'll email you the password. I don't want strangers from blogger invading us.
To the naysayers who say nay and also say that football season is six months away, I say yea and also that football season is actually only four months away. So there.
Invite your fellow punks and punk friends!
*I don't like Sting that much. The league name just happened.
6.02.2006
The Vogue
The new popular thing is making fun of me at work. It's been going on in subtle form for a little while, thanks in large part to my buddy Steve Pope, but it finally crossed over to the mainstream this week. Mostly it's about my eating habits. Like when we went out for a team dinner and Steve thought it was weird that I sliced up almost my entire steak before eating it. Or when Heidi brought what was left over of her chocolate fountain to our team meeting, and I said it was too early for me to eat chocolate, and she told everyone in the next meeting and everyone laughed. Or how everyone knows I prefer bagels for treat day over donuts because I don't like donuts (though I do like some donuts).
The more I thought about this, though, I realized that it's not a new thing. Let's see if I can document this trend, beginning with the earliest job.
-The Knights of Columbus: I know people made fun of me, but I'm pretty sure we made fun of everyone. I mean, we were 15. Big deal.
-Best Buy: One time my coworker answered the phone as me and proceeded to swear at the person and refuse to help them. I seriously freaked out. Turns out it was a prank. He just pressed the "ring" button or something and wasn't really talking to anyone.
-Challenge Printing: With Christine and people my own age, it was just fun. With the older people, they'd make some sarcastic comments that we wouldn't understand, and I guess that was making fun.
-CD Warehouse: Zero once called Ben Kweller my new favorite band. This is how we made fun of each other at a record store.
-UW Telefund: I didn't really talk to anyone, and I was only there for like two months, so that's that.
-Tutoring 7th graders: The first time the kids saw me in my glasses, they thought I looked like Peter Parker. I said I was Peter Parker's younger brother, so I'm Spider Boy, not Spider Man. And they made fun of me for calling myself a boy. They also made fun of me for not having a girlfriend. And there was the time one of them asked me if I was lesbian.
And that brings us to the present.
People made fun of everybody at all these jobs, and it's not like I feel bad cuz it's funny, it's just that I'm an easy target. So here's to being an easy target. Who's with me? Eh?
The more I thought about this, though, I realized that it's not a new thing. Let's see if I can document this trend, beginning with the earliest job.
-The Knights of Columbus: I know people made fun of me, but I'm pretty sure we made fun of everyone. I mean, we were 15. Big deal.
-Best Buy: One time my coworker answered the phone as me and proceeded to swear at the person and refuse to help them. I seriously freaked out. Turns out it was a prank. He just pressed the "ring" button or something and wasn't really talking to anyone.
-Challenge Printing: With Christine and people my own age, it was just fun. With the older people, they'd make some sarcastic comments that we wouldn't understand, and I guess that was making fun.
-CD Warehouse: Zero once called Ben Kweller my new favorite band. This is how we made fun of each other at a record store.
-UW Telefund: I didn't really talk to anyone, and I was only there for like two months, so that's that.
-Tutoring 7th graders: The first time the kids saw me in my glasses, they thought I looked like Peter Parker. I said I was Peter Parker's younger brother, so I'm Spider Boy, not Spider Man. And they made fun of me for calling myself a boy. They also made fun of me for not having a girlfriend. And there was the time one of them asked me if I was lesbian.
And that brings us to the present.
People made fun of everybody at all these jobs, and it's not like I feel bad cuz it's funny, it's just that I'm an easy target. So here's to being an easy target. Who's with me? Eh?
6.01.2006
The Famous People I Am
Once again, I'm a sucker. This time, I'm a sucker to find out the celebrties I look like. And I pretty definitively look like a lot of different people. Take, for example, this picture:
What, you may ask, could this disturbing countenance have to do with anything good-looking and well-respected? Here, I answer, is what:
AND 
I am 70% John Cusack and 66% Haile Selassie. That's correct. One count famous actor, one count scientist who discovered a comet.
It can't possibly get more varied than that, can it? Well...
This picture has 73% resemblance to Justin Timberlake, 71% resemblance to Jeff Bridges, another 71% with John Ritter, then 68% with Matthew Perry and Patrick Swayze.
Another picture had 60% likeness to Leonid Brezhnev. Another, the one of me in my Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Halloween costume, took in a whopping 74% with THE David Hasselhoff.
Of the six or seven photos I ran, the only multiple match of reasonable percentage was with Ryan Reynolds. Some of you might remember him as the quirky guy from Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pizza Place. Three times he came in over 60%. So next time someone tells me I look like Ryan Reynolds, I probably won't disagree.
It's been a fun experiment, guys. I leave you with this:
What, you may ask, could this disturbing countenance have to do with anything good-looking and well-respected? Here, I answer, is what:
AND 
I am 70% John Cusack and 66% Haile Selassie. That's correct. One count famous actor, one count scientist who discovered a comet.
It can't possibly get more varied than that, can it? Well...
This picture has 73% resemblance to Justin Timberlake, 71% resemblance to Jeff Bridges, another 71% with John Ritter, then 68% with Matthew Perry and Patrick Swayze.
Another picture had 60% likeness to Leonid Brezhnev. Another, the one of me in my Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Halloween costume, took in a whopping 74% with THE David Hasselhoff.
Of the six or seven photos I ran, the only multiple match of reasonable percentage was with Ryan Reynolds. Some of you might remember him as the quirky guy from Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pizza Place. Three times he came in over 60%. So next time someone tells me I look like Ryan Reynolds, I probably won't disagree.
It's been a fun experiment, guys. I leave you with this:
The Case of the Banana
For the past few days, my car has smelled distinctly of banana. I am allergic to bananas. The natural conclusion to draw is that someone is trying to assassinate me with banana.
I'll begin the investigation tonight. Look forward to...
UNSPAR INVESTIGATES!
I'll begin the investigation tonight. Look forward to...
UNSPAR INVESTIGATES!
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