There was only so much work one could do these days. Weeks upon weeks of built up stress just suddenly came loose one day. I was working in lab when I decided to walk out, right in the middle. Professor Hartmann stopped me at the door.
"Where are you going? You have to finish your problem set."
"Out. I dont care."
"Then I wont hold you back."
He moved aside and I strode out. The let the wood door close itself and I went down the clean hall. It was one of those sorts of days. Where you'd much rather just sit about and do nothing. It was 11:43 in the morning. Fuck. It was too early to feel like this. I knew there were two more classes that I had work to turn in. I figured, I might as well just hand them to my buddy Sherman who would go to class and turn it in for me. He was really diligent about working through hours and hours without stirring or turning towards facebook.
I caught Sherman sitting in the north reading room. On both sides sat his usual piles of reference books. One lay sprawled in front of him. I caught a glance at it. It was the US Census of Okanawah County, OK in 1912. Seriously...
"hey Sherm."
"Oh hey there Adam. What can I do for you?"
"D'you mind if you turn in these for me? I dont feel like going to class."
"One of those days hm?"
"No... yes."
"Sure. You know the price."
"It'll be on your Bureau in the morning."
Sherman was 20. I was 21. We were roommates since freshman year. I just guess it worked out. Sherman, Earl and I moved into a place sophomore year and we've been there since. But Sherman, as brilliant as he was, was a heavy drinker and smoker. He went through a pack of camels a day. It was gross. But, his usual cost was a third of a fifth of whatever. Usually, I just poured tequila into a large flask and left it for him. He didn't give a care what I put in there. Just as long as it was drinkable and he would be asleep by the time he finished it. So I was free now. What do I do? I could have gone bar hopping. But no respectable place serves anything hard before six, let alone noon time. The park was out of the question. At all hours of the day, I couldn't find myself not being at the other end of a cup being shaken at me. So the park was out. I suppose I could find some solace in the library. Nah, Sherm was there. I guess to the bar it is.
The Charleston Pub is my usual watering hole, its decent, not the best. It wasn't one of those nasty grimy places you see in the tenderloin with men in studded leather standing at the door, nor was it a place where the bouncer a 5 foot 3 inch man wearing a turtleneck. It was the kinda bar where you'd sidle in, find a table, and drink and chat. I suppose you could call it the coffee house of pubs. It certainly felt like one for sure. They know me by now. Since my twenty first birthday, I was becoming a regular down at Charleston. But it seemed empty to me. Devoid of its usual cheeriness. The dining hall was dim and there were only a few couples scattered here and there. Lunch wasn't the same anymore. The pork chop looked less appealing, the beer tasted flat, the potato a mere pebble of starch. The world was certainly a much blander place now. I suppose going home would help. Then again, it would always be the same drab old place you went home to and ate dinner at and etc. Ah what the hell. Why not?
I had the waiter put the rest of my stake cube and marble sized ball of starch in a to go box and I left for home. For some reason, I only was ever comfortable sitting in my easy chair, by my favorite window, with my little table by the side and the smell my cigar humidor nearby. I found myself at a friend's place once. It was filthy and there certainly were fantastical things about the place. One of which was mold growing on ever flat face in the bathroom. To that, I gave my applause by running out of the apartment and never going back. But back to my place. Sherm, Earl and I had turned it into our own little club. The walls were white, we covered them with prints of famous photographs and paintings. There used to be a big stain in the middle of the lounge, we covered it with an navajo rug. The kitchen wall has a hole in it, well, its still there. But we covered it up with a decorative object none the less. That just goes to show how much we cared about house beautiful. Each of our rooms had a special quality to it. They were intended as our special private kingdoms. Sherman decked his out with a small laboratory, with a cabinet of all the safer elements and all sorts of cool things. Earl was the big sports fan of us three. He had pennants from every college covering every square inch of wall. In the corner sat the ColorKing television set. He had been watching football in front of that since he was born. Heck, his father was watching the same sport on it since he bought the television in '69. Of course, there was no color left and the image came out blurry, but the sound was amazing. Watching a UCLA game, we could hear individual hate calls from the USC side. Or when we would watch a Cal game, we could tell when the announcer was sick or had a frog in his throat. My room, I didn't go all out like the other two guys had. I only went as far as to have a few bookshelves put in, and several of my rare books brought out from home. I was the only lucky one to have a window that faced the street. Nay, it overlooked the street, the rooftops and the shops, plazas, markets, trees, parks and the bay. The bay. I had a view of the beautiful San Francisco bay. At least here, in my room, there had better be some feeling of solace and calm. Otherwise, it wouldn't be my room. I bought the most monumental looking chair to have by the window. I didn't go with the e-z boy recliner, those were tacky and Earl had two in his room. Nor did I go with the standard leather arm chair that typically found its way into every man office. No, I had been down to Urban or Ore and picked up this beauty of a chair. It had the curved legs of an egyptianesque chair, the hand sewn leather sling between the legs, the way I draped a sheep skin over the back. This was truly a chair for Zeus. Or Mars at least.
I eased my way into the chair, taking note of the crunching sounds, each sigh of stress as it sagged under my weight. Everything the chair did, it was both physically and psychologically. At least now, the world seemed to mean more than the small chop and tiny red potato. The weight of the world seemed to swell up into the cloud in the distance. I sat for several hours, just staring at the sky. Everything else moved, except for that one cloud. It only got larger and larger and at one point, it looked like an anvil.
It bore the brunt of the world's misery and boredom. It contained all our problems and gripes. Every gripe, every remorse, every to-do we had. Collected into a single mass of droplets and feelings. It consolidated over the other apartments, it stayed in place. Hours passed, the light went from bright to orange, orange to red, red to purple, then the light went out. The anvil was gone. The stars began to shine through the anvil cloud. Then it was totally gone.
March 13, 2008
St. Matthew's Belfry
I'm not a devout catholic. Mother used to punish me by coming to visit my dormitory back in college daily leaving my roommate cards for him to convince me to go to the ten o'clock masses at night. Religion in college was the last thing that was on my mind. I had my bachelors to work at then. I was majoring in civil engineering and two months after my mother stopped sending cards, I graduated with a B.A. in Civil with a focus on concrete structures. After that, she stopped communication altogether. I made several attempts to contact her, but each time, I had failed to reach her.
One day, a wax sealed envelope was carelessly crumpled into my small aluminum apartment mailbox. It had the crest of my mother's family and the heavy parchment felt almost like gold in my hands. Breaking the seal, I carefully examined the letter. An uncle of mine died. No matter, he wasn't that close at all. But a card fell out and it caught my attention.
Master Dwight Mulholland Joyce-Roosevelt
Your Presence is requested at the
Greer Family Morturary
Napa, CA
Your recent deceased relative:
Rutherford Bernard Regent Willford Roosevelt
Has passed away on:
June 29, 2008
Mr. R. Roosevelt has mentioned you in his last testament and will
And your presence is required to fulfill the last requests of
the deceased.
Uncle Rutherford? Never heard of him. To me, he certainly was new. So if I was needed at his will reading, why not? Napa is a bit of a distance to go, especially from where I lived. I made the necessary arrangements at the office, finished up some filework, made the final rounds and left the office. Little did I know, this would be the last time I walked through those rows of cubicles. My plane arrived in San Francisco with little trouble and the woman next to me had to shake me back to life. I guess I couldn't stand in flight movies. I had rented a small SUV for the drive north to Napa county. It was probably more than I needed. The scenery exchanged itself from the bustle of San Francisco to the vast open fields and plains and rows upon rows of grapes growing in lines whose effect reminded me of stacks from college.
It was a small chapel. Chapel is an inappropriate word to describe. It was more like a rustic shack with a lean to office. Uncle Rutherford must have not been that important. Inside, the chapel was filled with flowers and his casket sat at the end of the room. The room was small. It seemed as if only twelve or ten people could fit in here. From the door that led into the lean-to, emerged the director of funerals. He was a short, stocky man. His hair was snow white and his skin tanned from years under the California sun. His suit was ill fitting and he was obviously perspiring from the weather. At his command, the usher went to the windows and pulled the top transoms open.
"Rutherford Roosevelt. A great man, a philantrophist, a simple man, a king among paupers. He will be sorely missed."
Where did that come from?
"Born in 1942 to Harvey Lewis Roosevelt and Edith Jane Hamil, Rutherford..."
It went on for another twenty minutes.
"Thank you all for attending the service. If you would, the body shall be interred and if the funeral party would like to proceed towards the cars outside. People who came in personal vehicles, please adhere the 'funeral' sticker to the front window."
Funeral Party. That was one way to describe it. But I hadn't seen my mother yet. The procession found its way further north, into Ukiah, then onto a small side road. I thought this must have been the most remote cemetery location possible. The procession made one more turn and we were on a private road. I caught a glimpse past the three limousines and the hearse. There stood a massive victorian thing. Palace seemed like an appropriate word to describe it. It turned again and the hearse stopped outside a fenced area of grass. A few gravestones marked the area and obviously, this must have been a family site. The procession brought the casket to the corner of the fenced in area where a large stone mausoleum stood. The door was unlocked and the casket brought inside. The mausoleum itself was a round building with a rotunda in the center. In the center of the room was a long oaken table, with magnificently hewn legs in the shape of tigers claws. The casket was placed on top of the table and a silk flag with the Roosevelt crest draped over it. The director who had made his presence known back in Napa entered again.
"Friends and family, I welcome you to the Roosevelt mausoleum. Built in 1935 by James Naimsmith Roosevelt and his son Harvey Roosevelt, it currently houses the remains of all descendants of Thaddeus David Roosevelt when his body was exhumed and moved here"
He pointed at a dusty panel with an urn in front of it.
"In 1939. The mausoleum finally welcomes its last child of Harvey and Edith Roosevelt, Rutherford Roosevelt."
Last child? Grandpa Harvey and Gram gram Edie's last child to die was Rutherford? What about mom... My eyes frantically searched over the dusty stone panels. It took some finding but it was the top one on the south side.
Elizabeth Seagram Joyce-Roosevelt
1953-2005
I turned to the director. I asked.
"When did this happen?"
"Ah, it was a sad funeral. Only Rutherford and Bill had shown up. She specifically asked to be buried in a small quiet, immediate family funeral."
"But i'm her child."
"Oh... oh dear."
"What do you mean? 'Oh Dear?'"
"Well, we went through her will, the money went to Rutherford. But now that he's passed away..."
"But..."
"Come now. We'll deal with it after we inter the body."
The ceremony lasted a few minutes. The Pall Bearers slid the coffin into the narrow slot and workmen lifted the granite slab in place and sealed it.
The office of the victorian "palace" was comfortably furnished. A massive oak desk rested in front of the large windows and overhead, an old painted china lamp cast a dim light. By now, there were more people present. There were at least thirty of us in here. The lawyer stood up and opened the envelope.
"To my dear family. I know that the blood line runs dry and there are only a few of you left. To my only son Wilbur, I leave the Ukiah House and its lands except for the family plot to you. Also, the endowment of 200,000 dollars shall be compounded into bonds and three 500 dollar bonds will be issued to you every month until its expiration. To my only nephew. Dear Dwight. We have had such fun over the years watching you grow up. Although we never saw each other after you started middle school, you are not forgotten. To you, I leave you the safe deposit box 4220 in San Francisco, a trust fund of 130,000 as well as the envelope which I trust Mr Biddup (the lawyer) will give you. Its contents will be self explanatory."
The lawyer handed me the key and the check for the fund to be deposited immediately and the envelope mentioned in the will. I opened it. It was a detailed account of my mother's death. She was ill towards the end of my college career and went into the hospital from 2003 until she passed away in 2005. I was apparently not notified as thought it would interfere with my studies. But apparently, they completely forgot about me until Uncle Rutherford died. Inside also was one key. It was an elaborate skeleton key, with a cracked piece of marble in the handle. a paper tag tied to it said that it would open the attic door C. With Wilbur next to me, we went to the top floor of the house. Wilbur was older than me by a few years, but he was obviously a country boy. He grew a beard, and he had a rugged air and look about him. But in the attic, there were several rooms partitioned to be storage rooms. A and B were open, their contents soaked in dust. But room C remained at the end of the hall, its door firmly shut. The key croaked in the slot and with a bit of shoulder into it, the door opened.
Several paintings leaned up against one of the partition walls and there were a few boxes of things here and there. But the most noticable thing stood in the center. Draped in a faded and stained silk cloth, it made a formiddable shape. I tugged it off. Underneath lay my old baby crib, a hit & miss engine and a large trunk. The trunk wasn't locked and it opened. Inside, several old furs and a photo album. Its cover was bound in leather and it was cracked in several places. Opening it, nothing was in its pages apart from a single letter.
"December 21, 2000
To my baby boy, Dwight Gregory Hammond Mulholland Joyce(-Roosevelt)
I know I cannot keep you. Your father is not who you think he is. If you are reading this, you have either discovered Attic C's key, or I have passed away. Truth is hard to bear. But William Joyce has been a father to you for the longest time. Treat him that way. Your real father well, I dont know. Is not anyone I remember. Dont bother searching for him. I beg you son. Truth is, Mommy never really well, she was promiscuous during the sixties. Your father is one of many people. The world is your father. But Bill has taken care of you. Please. Forgive me Dwight."
The letter ended there.
One day, a wax sealed envelope was carelessly crumpled into my small aluminum apartment mailbox. It had the crest of my mother's family and the heavy parchment felt almost like gold in my hands. Breaking the seal, I carefully examined the letter. An uncle of mine died. No matter, he wasn't that close at all. But a card fell out and it caught my attention.
Master Dwight Mulholland Joyce-Roosevelt
Your Presence is requested at the
Greer Family Morturary
Napa, CA
Your recent deceased relative:
Rutherford Bernard Regent Willford Roosevelt
Has passed away on:
June 29, 2008
Mr. R. Roosevelt has mentioned you in his last testament and will
And your presence is required to fulfill the last requests of
the deceased.
Uncle Rutherford? Never heard of him. To me, he certainly was new. So if I was needed at his will reading, why not? Napa is a bit of a distance to go, especially from where I lived. I made the necessary arrangements at the office, finished up some filework, made the final rounds and left the office. Little did I know, this would be the last time I walked through those rows of cubicles. My plane arrived in San Francisco with little trouble and the woman next to me had to shake me back to life. I guess I couldn't stand in flight movies. I had rented a small SUV for the drive north to Napa county. It was probably more than I needed. The scenery exchanged itself from the bustle of San Francisco to the vast open fields and plains and rows upon rows of grapes growing in lines whose effect reminded me of stacks from college.
It was a small chapel. Chapel is an inappropriate word to describe. It was more like a rustic shack with a lean to office. Uncle Rutherford must have not been that important. Inside, the chapel was filled with flowers and his casket sat at the end of the room. The room was small. It seemed as if only twelve or ten people could fit in here. From the door that led into the lean-to, emerged the director of funerals. He was a short, stocky man. His hair was snow white and his skin tanned from years under the California sun. His suit was ill fitting and he was obviously perspiring from the weather. At his command, the usher went to the windows and pulled the top transoms open.
"Rutherford Roosevelt. A great man, a philantrophist, a simple man, a king among paupers. He will be sorely missed."
Where did that come from?
"Born in 1942 to Harvey Lewis Roosevelt and Edith Jane Hamil, Rutherford..."
It went on for another twenty minutes.
"Thank you all for attending the service. If you would, the body shall be interred and if the funeral party would like to proceed towards the cars outside. People who came in personal vehicles, please adhere the 'funeral' sticker to the front window."
Funeral Party. That was one way to describe it. But I hadn't seen my mother yet. The procession found its way further north, into Ukiah, then onto a small side road. I thought this must have been the most remote cemetery location possible. The procession made one more turn and we were on a private road. I caught a glimpse past the three limousines and the hearse. There stood a massive victorian thing. Palace seemed like an appropriate word to describe it. It turned again and the hearse stopped outside a fenced area of grass. A few gravestones marked the area and obviously, this must have been a family site. The procession brought the casket to the corner of the fenced in area where a large stone mausoleum stood. The door was unlocked and the casket brought inside. The mausoleum itself was a round building with a rotunda in the center. In the center of the room was a long oaken table, with magnificently hewn legs in the shape of tigers claws. The casket was placed on top of the table and a silk flag with the Roosevelt crest draped over it. The director who had made his presence known back in Napa entered again.
"Friends and family, I welcome you to the Roosevelt mausoleum. Built in 1935 by James Naimsmith Roosevelt and his son Harvey Roosevelt, it currently houses the remains of all descendants of Thaddeus David Roosevelt when his body was exhumed and moved here"
He pointed at a dusty panel with an urn in front of it.
"In 1939. The mausoleum finally welcomes its last child of Harvey and Edith Roosevelt, Rutherford Roosevelt."
Last child? Grandpa Harvey and Gram gram Edie's last child to die was Rutherford? What about mom... My eyes frantically searched over the dusty stone panels. It took some finding but it was the top one on the south side.
Elizabeth Seagram Joyce-Roosevelt
1953-2005
I turned to the director. I asked.
"When did this happen?"
"Ah, it was a sad funeral. Only Rutherford and Bill had shown up. She specifically asked to be buried in a small quiet, immediate family funeral."
"But i'm her child."
"Oh... oh dear."
"What do you mean? 'Oh Dear?'"
"Well, we went through her will, the money went to Rutherford. But now that he's passed away..."
"But..."
"Come now. We'll deal with it after we inter the body."
The ceremony lasted a few minutes. The Pall Bearers slid the coffin into the narrow slot and workmen lifted the granite slab in place and sealed it.
The office of the victorian "palace" was comfortably furnished. A massive oak desk rested in front of the large windows and overhead, an old painted china lamp cast a dim light. By now, there were more people present. There were at least thirty of us in here. The lawyer stood up and opened the envelope.
"To my dear family. I know that the blood line runs dry and there are only a few of you left. To my only son Wilbur, I leave the Ukiah House and its lands except for the family plot to you. Also, the endowment of 200,000 dollars shall be compounded into bonds and three 500 dollar bonds will be issued to you every month until its expiration. To my only nephew. Dear Dwight. We have had such fun over the years watching you grow up. Although we never saw each other after you started middle school, you are not forgotten. To you, I leave you the safe deposit box 4220 in San Francisco, a trust fund of 130,000 as well as the envelope which I trust Mr Biddup (the lawyer) will give you. Its contents will be self explanatory."
The lawyer handed me the key and the check for the fund to be deposited immediately and the envelope mentioned in the will. I opened it. It was a detailed account of my mother's death. She was ill towards the end of my college career and went into the hospital from 2003 until she passed away in 2005. I was apparently not notified as thought it would interfere with my studies. But apparently, they completely forgot about me until Uncle Rutherford died. Inside also was one key. It was an elaborate skeleton key, with a cracked piece of marble in the handle. a paper tag tied to it said that it would open the attic door C. With Wilbur next to me, we went to the top floor of the house. Wilbur was older than me by a few years, but he was obviously a country boy. He grew a beard, and he had a rugged air and look about him. But in the attic, there were several rooms partitioned to be storage rooms. A and B were open, their contents soaked in dust. But room C remained at the end of the hall, its door firmly shut. The key croaked in the slot and with a bit of shoulder into it, the door opened.
Several paintings leaned up against one of the partition walls and there were a few boxes of things here and there. But the most noticable thing stood in the center. Draped in a faded and stained silk cloth, it made a formiddable shape. I tugged it off. Underneath lay my old baby crib, a hit & miss engine and a large trunk. The trunk wasn't locked and it opened. Inside, several old furs and a photo album. Its cover was bound in leather and it was cracked in several places. Opening it, nothing was in its pages apart from a single letter.
"December 21, 2000
To my baby boy, Dwight Gregory Hammond Mulholland Joyce(-Roosevelt)
I know I cannot keep you. Your father is not who you think he is. If you are reading this, you have either discovered Attic C's key, or I have passed away. Truth is hard to bear. But William Joyce has been a father to you for the longest time. Treat him that way. Your real father well, I dont know. Is not anyone I remember. Dont bother searching for him. I beg you son. Truth is, Mommy never really well, she was promiscuous during the sixties. Your father is one of many people. The world is your father. But Bill has taken care of you. Please. Forgive me Dwight."
The letter ended there.
One word
Funny how life can change at the utterance of one single word. Suppose worlds had clashed over one word uttered whimsically at a conference. I made the mistake. This wasn't a battle for quick resolve and victory. Its still going on. Its more attrition than decisive.
The Cut
Its been there for awhile. You'd never really notice it until you dug your hands into your pocket. Searching for some unfathomable hermitage from exposure. For me, I never knew where the hell to put my hands but the sure fire and accepted standard was the pocket. Sure it meant, yeah, i'm a punk. What ch'you gonna do about it? Or. Heh... So Embarrassed. Just put hands in pocket and look like everyone else. Well, screw it all. I never knew what to do with the damn things anyhow. Standing through endless reviews. What would I do with them? I could put them up to my face, the other one wrapped around the front of my torso to support the other one. I suppose, I could go with that intelligent air. But then, my hands were usually greasy from the pastels, charcoals, pencils and inks. To casually place my finger over my lips in intense thought might mean a small charcoal mustache underneath my nose. Or I could just fold them. Then they seem too high. Damn. I suppose the pockets are the last resort. By doing so, I guess i'm like 10% less efficient that with my hands free. Restricted by these prisons of cotton, duck and denim, they found solace, but limited life. It was like finding the perfect house. In Yreka. But commuting to San Francisco on call. But today was different. My hands are busy ones. Searching through my pockets for the phone, my wallet, sometimes my pocket knife or Leatherman. But today, I need the latter. But then, it stung. It hurt. Staring carefully at the wrinkled folds of skin, the most marginalized, the smallest possible cut emerged on the thumb. The thumb. The boss digit of the hand. Turned up or down, it was a matter of life or death with the thumb. One motorcyclist was so desperate enough to replace his lost thumb, he grafted his big toe to resume his racing career. But the thumb, this noble necessity, the judge of life and death, the meaning of good or obscene through biting, had been attacked. A small clean cut. It certainly was annoying. But much to my relief, there was hope. Like St. Helena to Napoleon, Alcatraz to the Birdman, the cut in my mind, was to be gone. Application of medication, it was still there. Half hour, it still was there. I guess I lost this battle.
no wait.
Victory!
no wait.
Victory!
February 26, 2008
February 21, 2008
Rain Stopped Play
I just want to note. Its funny how the rain here in the bay area. Stopped for one whole day, cleared up just for the lunar eclipse. GO away rain.
February 12, 2008
Love and Respect your (LRY): University
Hello readers! Today, I'm starting up a new series post called: Love and Respect your: whatever. So every so often, I'll just vent out on something we all should love and respect, but others don't.
So today's column is your University. Well, i'll personally vent about mine. So today was finally the pushing event, that sparked this new column. Personally, it has never pushed me this far. So walking home from lecture in Wheeler hall, I found myself face to face with graffiti. Well, usually, Graffiti has been a very common place thing, growing up in Alameda, surrounded by the industrial part of Oakland and San Leandro, I would see graffiti everywhere. But back to this. One of the university's most distinguished monuments, the Gate of Sather, or Sather Gate has been vandalized. One of the oldest things on campus, has been vandalized. And what's more, written in the typical graffiti fontage, is the word: Punks. Obviously, punks have vandalized the school. For shame. I know, deep down, all of us have a deep love for the school we go to. That's why we cheer at the football games and we participate in activities around campus every so often. My guess, it's probably one of those tourists. I've been seeing them around lately actually. A bunch of, well... not to be racist, but honest, namely massive groups of gangish looking latinos. All prospective students for Berkeley. Supposedly. And one of them could have been carrying a paint marker, and marked up the gate. I wont point fingers, but in my mind, they're the first suspects. Outsiders, people building up their street "cred." and whatnot.
Kinda hard to enjoy your own place without people marking it up. So far, a trashcan, the gate, one of the seals and the balstrude for the gate has been hit. Shame on you. I dont go into your house and vandalize it. But for the rest of you university students who know what i'm talking about next, you might get pretty pissed. So I saw a guy, attempting to go from Sproul plaza up towards um. Wurster. Its a very hilly route. Even its hilly for me. But he's on crutches and I see a Loop car go by, I, thinking that it would stop for him, watched as it zipped by and started up the hill, while he, fully laden was still trying to get up there. When I got to Wurster. Before my eyes, I saw the little Loop car had stopped only to pick up a football player who in no way looked immobile or impared in the legs. The higherarchy of persons allowed to use it at this point, is hazy and one cant help but note, Is'nt the purpose of the Loop to assist the handicapped around campus?
That's it. Love, Respect, Other stuff
So today's column is your University. Well, i'll personally vent about mine. So today was finally the pushing event, that sparked this new column. Personally, it has never pushed me this far. So walking home from lecture in Wheeler hall, I found myself face to face with graffiti. Well, usually, Graffiti has been a very common place thing, growing up in Alameda, surrounded by the industrial part of Oakland and San Leandro, I would see graffiti everywhere. But back to this. One of the university's most distinguished monuments, the Gate of Sather, or Sather Gate has been vandalized. One of the oldest things on campus, has been vandalized. And what's more, written in the typical graffiti fontage, is the word: Punks. Obviously, punks have vandalized the school. For shame. I know, deep down, all of us have a deep love for the school we go to. That's why we cheer at the football games and we participate in activities around campus every so often. My guess, it's probably one of those tourists. I've been seeing them around lately actually. A bunch of, well... not to be racist, but honest, namely massive groups of gangish looking latinos. All prospective students for Berkeley. Supposedly. And one of them could have been carrying a paint marker, and marked up the gate. I wont point fingers, but in my mind, they're the first suspects. Outsiders, people building up their street "cred." and whatnot.
Kinda hard to enjoy your own place without people marking it up. So far, a trashcan, the gate, one of the seals and the balstrude for the gate has been hit. Shame on you. I dont go into your house and vandalize it. But for the rest of you university students who know what i'm talking about next, you might get pretty pissed. So I saw a guy, attempting to go from Sproul plaza up towards um. Wurster. Its a very hilly route. Even its hilly for me. But he's on crutches and I see a Loop car go by, I, thinking that it would stop for him, watched as it zipped by and started up the hill, while he, fully laden was still trying to get up there. When I got to Wurster. Before my eyes, I saw the little Loop car had stopped only to pick up a football player who in no way looked immobile or impared in the legs. The higherarchy of persons allowed to use it at this point, is hazy and one cant help but note, Is'nt the purpose of the Loop to assist the handicapped around campus?
That's it. Love, Respect, Other stuff
February 05, 2008
Dream Log: Feburary 5, 2008
It is 8 minutes before 9 pm. I have volunteered to ring the bell nine times marking the approach of nine Oclock. I am on the Campiniele. But something about it doesn't seem right at all. Instead of the hammers you hit your hand with, there were levers you had to pull to make the bells go. Leighna was there. Apparently, she works at that specific campiniele doing maintainence work there. But finding out what they had to do was the weird part. They would hang off the ledge, using only their feet to hold onto something. What was more strange was that the black and white photograph of the two people doing it, was captioned: Collecting the seeds. How strange I would think. To hang off the side of a tower and collect seeds using only your feet to hold you up.
January 24, 2008
Absolut Bullhonkey
http://www.answersingenesis.org/articles/2008/01/22/flying-spaghetti-monster
So the intelligent design people as well as the christian fundamentalists tried to explain, to us obvious stupid people, the true meaning of the Flying Spagetti Monster. He obviously can believe, that people who have been touched by his noodley appendage, that for some strange reason, a salad can murder someone.
So the intelligent design people as well as the christian fundamentalists tried to explain, to us obvious stupid people, the true meaning of the Flying Spagetti Monster. He obviously can believe, that people who have been touched by his noodley appendage, that for some strange reason, a salad can murder someone.
January 21, 2008
Tired
I sat in the corner, with my laptop. There wasn't much else to do you know. When the rest of them had fun things to do, I sat here doing... not much.
What could I possibly do? Everyone else had fun things to do. I didn't.
Bah.
What could I possibly do? Everyone else had fun things to do. I didn't.
Bah.
January 20, 2008
"Night Out"
A short story by me. In lieu of my shitty stories about the guy, girl and Faulkner.
Well... not quite the same people.
I stood in front of the dresser mirror. As clean cut as I was, I still looked slightly "ragged" as my friends described me. I had graduated from Ibsen college with a degree in Chemical Engineering and a fine lot that did me. I got work at Ebmud working as a rendering plant engineer. I had dreams of working something much more exotic such as working for NASA or even concrete. I had a passion for concrete for some reason. But anyhow, I might as well have made the most of looking shaggy. A little bit of hair gel, ruffling my hair and putting on my fur lined coat. I looked like a lumberjack. Apart from the gel of course.
It wasn't much of a night out to be honest. It was just me and a couple buddies heading up to a bar in cow hollow. This wasn't like most bars. The ones you see with the rock band in one corner and the gross looking fellow working at the bar. It was the kind of bar where there was a jazz band playing, there were chairs and low tables everywhere. We took one by the curtains and I had a beer. Well, a guinness. Something to keep me entertained while my buddies would chug down shots.
The band played Straight no Chaser when she entered. She had come with her friends. Her friends seemed like young college friends all, using her to get drinks. They wore Ugg boots except for her. A sign of maturity I thought. After she had paid for their drinks, they scurried off to the nearest man hunk in the lounge. She stood alone at the bar, a cosmo barely new in her hands. I stood and walked over to her and leaned on the counter.
"They'll always be teenage girls no?" I said.
"They're my Sorority sisters. They begged me and I guess I caved in. They're all freshmen. Stupid girls."
"I suppose. So you're still in college?"
"Yea. I'm getting my bachelors in Chemical engineering. Some major for a girl eh?" She turned away for a second.
"You know, I'm a chemical engineer too."
She wheeled around. "Are you really?"
"Yeah."
"What's life after like?"
"Pardon?"
"Well, I figured you've graduated. Right?"
"Yeah. Ibsen college. I just got out a half a year ago."
"Ibsen. Nerdy school."
"Har har."
"That's nothing. I'm at Altarra. The nerdiest all girls college. The only thing keeping me sane is the sorority."
"Heh. All girls college. That sounds funny."
"How so?" Her lips pursed a little. Almost in a pout.
"I dunno." I shrugged my shoulders a little. "I guess growing up and going to a school with boys and girls..." I cut off my sentence there.
"Tsch..." She looked at me. "so tell me Mr. two gender school. What do you do?"
"I work as a rendering plant worker. Well, i'm the chief engineer. Most of the time, i'm in my office, doing work and paperwork."
"Gosh, look my life has become. A sewage worker."
"I take resent to that you know. What do you expect to get out of working as a Chem E?"
"I dunno... NASA?"
"Hah. I had that dream too."
Our conversation went on for another hour. I found her name was Jessie and she apparently loved chocolate alot. So much, she had one of her ex'es cast his *ahem* well, yeah then made one out of the aforementioned foodstuff. I had turned back and to my surprise, my buddies had left the bar without my notice and her sisters had done the same. I offered to walk her home but she declined. I was almost dejected and made the offer to wait with her for her bus. She wasn't wearing much, other than her shortsleeve blouse top and skirt. Not at all suited for the weather here in the city. I handed her my coat. She almost whimpered when she found that it was lined in fur. I asked her what the matter was, she only looked at me and said: "nothing". I stood away from her, and without warning, she walked over and put her arms around me. "Woah" I said. She looked up. She looked at me almost like she was saying: what's the problem? I shook my head and looked over her head. Not wanting to be an idiot, I put my arm over her and she kissed my chest. I presented her in my hands.
"What's going on?" I asked?
"Its just... You're the first one to... You're the first guy i've been with in awhile. That story about the chocolate thing. I made it up. I thought guys were into that weird kinky shit."
I just shook my head again and said no no. She asked another question.
"Do you object to my head on your body? You're alot warmer than the jacket is."
"Sure. Go ahead." I knew she was lying. My coat was the warmest coat I owned.
The tram had pulled up. I asked her, if she was going to get on. She only buried her face deeper into my chest and shook it. I took it for a no.
"You know, I have work, and you got class."
"Dont care. We still have 8 hours before its time for class."
"Stop. Look, I hardly know you."
"Doesnt matter, you know more about me than any of my ex'es did."
I looked off to the side. "Look. I live right here. Your campus is on the other side of town."
"Class can be missed. All I have tomorrow is just a lecture I can see online."
"Fine. Its your career."
I had taken her back to my place. A little apartment in an old building on Van Kugelen St. It was a few blocks away. She held onto the right arm and didn't let go. I chuckled at the thought. I gave her a blanket and a pillow and a place on the couch. I closed my door and went to sleep. It didn't help much that a girl who was pretty and just my type too in my house. On my couch. The lights from the cars casted shadows onto the ceiling and I couldn't fall asleep. I heard the door crack open. It was Jessie trying to sneak in. I pretended to be asleep and she crawled into the sheets with me. She gave a little poke to my ribs. I pretended not to notice. She kissed my forehead, again I tried not to notice, but I couldn't help but pull out a slight grin. I dont know what made her do what she did next, but then I opened my eyes. I couldn't stand it any longer. I pulled her head from underneath the blankets.
"Look. We only met. Slow down. We've got time."
"Ohh... I love how you use the word 'we'."
"Oh well... I uh..."
"Shhhh... lets go to sleep."
I couldn't argue with that. When I woke up, she was still there. Her skirt rumpled and her hair mussy like. I was dressing for work when she stirred.
"Hello there."
"Hello Jessie."
"What time is it?"
"Time for me to work. Look, just close the door on your way out, my number is on the table. And well, now you know where I live."
"Did we do it last night?"
"No."
"Are you sure? I hope you did."
"Stop that. No."
She stood again. Grabbed my tie and pulled it off. I didn't quite know where this would go. I thought I had made it clear last night. Her lips pressed against mine. My hands relaxed and pressed against the dresser.
"Sffomtop" I muttered through her mouth. She pulled back. "Look. We haven't even known each other for 24 hours and already, look where you're at.
"So?" She climbed onto my bed and tried to look sexy. Problem was, it was to me.
"Look. You can stay. Just dont go out. I dont have a spare key. So. If you stay, we can get dinner or something. Maybe some take out. Who knows?"
"Fine." She hid herself under the covers and she went to sleep. Or tried to. I smiled as I readjusted my tie.
I came back to my place and found her still curled under the sheets. At least she was real I thought. I tried to gently wake her but she just slapped my hand back. She quickly wheeled around and stared at my face.
"You look cute in your business suit."
"Thanks. Its just an old suit."
"It *heh* suits you."
It was a bad joke, but you could appreciate it. Sort of. We had a quiet dinner and I got to know more about her. She had never contacted her sorority sisters since last night and they didn't make the effort. My friends sobered up to me at work telling me, seeing me with a girl rather than a magazine or book, they left to make sure things worked. Heh. Its funny how the fates collide with each other. In my case, how everything falls into a really weird shaped puzzle assisted by your friends and some random freshmen sorority girls.
Well... not quite the same people.
I stood in front of the dresser mirror. As clean cut as I was, I still looked slightly "ragged" as my friends described me. I had graduated from Ibsen college with a degree in Chemical Engineering and a fine lot that did me. I got work at Ebmud working as a rendering plant engineer. I had dreams of working something much more exotic such as working for NASA or even concrete. I had a passion for concrete for some reason. But anyhow, I might as well have made the most of looking shaggy. A little bit of hair gel, ruffling my hair and putting on my fur lined coat. I looked like a lumberjack. Apart from the gel of course.
It wasn't much of a night out to be honest. It was just me and a couple buddies heading up to a bar in cow hollow. This wasn't like most bars. The ones you see with the rock band in one corner and the gross looking fellow working at the bar. It was the kind of bar where there was a jazz band playing, there were chairs and low tables everywhere. We took one by the curtains and I had a beer. Well, a guinness. Something to keep me entertained while my buddies would chug down shots.
The band played Straight no Chaser when she entered. She had come with her friends. Her friends seemed like young college friends all, using her to get drinks. They wore Ugg boots except for her. A sign of maturity I thought. After she had paid for their drinks, they scurried off to the nearest man hunk in the lounge. She stood alone at the bar, a cosmo barely new in her hands. I stood and walked over to her and leaned on the counter.
"They'll always be teenage girls no?" I said.
"They're my Sorority sisters. They begged me and I guess I caved in. They're all freshmen. Stupid girls."
"I suppose. So you're still in college?"
"Yea. I'm getting my bachelors in Chemical engineering. Some major for a girl eh?" She turned away for a second.
"You know, I'm a chemical engineer too."
She wheeled around. "Are you really?"
"Yeah."
"What's life after like?"
"Pardon?"
"Well, I figured you've graduated. Right?"
"Yeah. Ibsen college. I just got out a half a year ago."
"Ibsen. Nerdy school."
"Har har."
"That's nothing. I'm at Altarra. The nerdiest all girls college. The only thing keeping me sane is the sorority."
"Heh. All girls college. That sounds funny."
"How so?" Her lips pursed a little. Almost in a pout.
"I dunno." I shrugged my shoulders a little. "I guess growing up and going to a school with boys and girls..." I cut off my sentence there.
"Tsch..." She looked at me. "so tell me Mr. two gender school. What do you do?"
"I work as a rendering plant worker. Well, i'm the chief engineer. Most of the time, i'm in my office, doing work and paperwork."
"Gosh, look my life has become. A sewage worker."
"I take resent to that you know. What do you expect to get out of working as a Chem E?"
"I dunno... NASA?"
"Hah. I had that dream too."
Our conversation went on for another hour. I found her name was Jessie and she apparently loved chocolate alot. So much, she had one of her ex'es cast his *ahem* well, yeah then made one out of the aforementioned foodstuff. I had turned back and to my surprise, my buddies had left the bar without my notice and her sisters had done the same. I offered to walk her home but she declined. I was almost dejected and made the offer to wait with her for her bus. She wasn't wearing much, other than her shortsleeve blouse top and skirt. Not at all suited for the weather here in the city. I handed her my coat. She almost whimpered when she found that it was lined in fur. I asked her what the matter was, she only looked at me and said: "nothing". I stood away from her, and without warning, she walked over and put her arms around me. "Woah" I said. She looked up. She looked at me almost like she was saying: what's the problem? I shook my head and looked over her head. Not wanting to be an idiot, I put my arm over her and she kissed my chest. I presented her in my hands.
"What's going on?" I asked?
"Its just... You're the first one to... You're the first guy i've been with in awhile. That story about the chocolate thing. I made it up. I thought guys were into that weird kinky shit."
I just shook my head again and said no no. She asked another question.
"Do you object to my head on your body? You're alot warmer than the jacket is."
"Sure. Go ahead." I knew she was lying. My coat was the warmest coat I owned.
The tram had pulled up. I asked her, if she was going to get on. She only buried her face deeper into my chest and shook it. I took it for a no.
"You know, I have work, and you got class."
"Dont care. We still have 8 hours before its time for class."
"Stop. Look, I hardly know you."
"Doesnt matter, you know more about me than any of my ex'es did."
I looked off to the side. "Look. I live right here. Your campus is on the other side of town."
"Class can be missed. All I have tomorrow is just a lecture I can see online."
"Fine. Its your career."
I had taken her back to my place. A little apartment in an old building on Van Kugelen St. It was a few blocks away. She held onto the right arm and didn't let go. I chuckled at the thought. I gave her a blanket and a pillow and a place on the couch. I closed my door and went to sleep. It didn't help much that a girl who was pretty and just my type too in my house. On my couch. The lights from the cars casted shadows onto the ceiling and I couldn't fall asleep. I heard the door crack open. It was Jessie trying to sneak in. I pretended to be asleep and she crawled into the sheets with me. She gave a little poke to my ribs. I pretended not to notice. She kissed my forehead, again I tried not to notice, but I couldn't help but pull out a slight grin. I dont know what made her do what she did next, but then I opened my eyes. I couldn't stand it any longer. I pulled her head from underneath the blankets.
"Look. We only met. Slow down. We've got time."
"Ohh... I love how you use the word 'we'."
"Oh well... I uh..."
"Shhhh... lets go to sleep."
I couldn't argue with that. When I woke up, she was still there. Her skirt rumpled and her hair mussy like. I was dressing for work when she stirred.
"Hello there."
"Hello Jessie."
"What time is it?"
"Time for me to work. Look, just close the door on your way out, my number is on the table. And well, now you know where I live."
"Did we do it last night?"
"No."
"Are you sure? I hope you did."
"Stop that. No."
She stood again. Grabbed my tie and pulled it off. I didn't quite know where this would go. I thought I had made it clear last night. Her lips pressed against mine. My hands relaxed and pressed against the dresser.
"Sffomtop" I muttered through her mouth. She pulled back. "Look. We haven't even known each other for 24 hours and already, look where you're at.
"So?" She climbed onto my bed and tried to look sexy. Problem was, it was to me.
"Look. You can stay. Just dont go out. I dont have a spare key. So. If you stay, we can get dinner or something. Maybe some take out. Who knows?"
"Fine." She hid herself under the covers and she went to sleep. Or tried to. I smiled as I readjusted my tie.
I came back to my place and found her still curled under the sheets. At least she was real I thought. I tried to gently wake her but she just slapped my hand back. She quickly wheeled around and stared at my face.
"You look cute in your business suit."
"Thanks. Its just an old suit."
"It *heh* suits you."
It was a bad joke, but you could appreciate it. Sort of. We had a quiet dinner and I got to know more about her. She had never contacted her sorority sisters since last night and they didn't make the effort. My friends sobered up to me at work telling me, seeing me with a girl rather than a magazine or book, they left to make sure things worked. Heh. Its funny how the fates collide with each other. In my case, how everything falls into a really weird shaped puzzle assisted by your friends and some random freshmen sorority girls.
January 18, 2008
January 08, 2008
The World's Most Brilliant Idea
I've always wanted to do this. I know some of you have as well. When we go there, we always think, man, this place would really be awesome to stay at. That's right. I'm talking about Ikea. For those of you who have no idea what Ikea is, its a giant scandanavian based furniture store that exist all over the United States. when finally, One person finally had the idea, guts to ask to live there.
Its the same Mark who went to 151 starbucks in one day. Only in NY. Now he's living in Ikea from the 7th to the 12th of January. So he'll keep us all abreast of goings ons there.
http://www.marklivesinikea.com/
Its the same Mark who went to 151 starbucks in one day. Only in NY. Now he's living in Ikea from the 7th to the 12th of January. So he'll keep us all abreast of goings ons there.
http://www.marklivesinikea.com/
December 29, 2007
I'm only 30 away
I'm realizing. Looking at the statistics board, I haven't "colored" a new picture in a long time. But also, i'm only 30 away from 300 posts on this one. So this gives me the golden opportunity to do the THIS IS SPARTA thing.
There are so many things I could possibly do to celebrate the 300th post. Count out a stack of 300 books. Eat 300 jellybeans (please no...) or kiss 300 people. Then again, I dont know 300 people. Unless you mashed the people I know in High school with People I know in college. Then yeah, that's about 30something peoples.
Ideas people.
There are so many things I could possibly do to celebrate the 300th post. Count out a stack of 300 books. Eat 300 jellybeans (please no...) or kiss 300 people. Then again, I dont know 300 people. Unless you mashed the people I know in High school with People I know in college. Then yeah, that's about 30something peoples.
Ideas people.
December 28, 2007
Surviving 10 minutes into the future: Holidays
Let's take a metaphorical example. Then tweak it. You've been thrown into the future. TEN WHOLE MINUTES.
So at this point you're wondering. What possible other situations can we go through. Well, As a college student, you'll have more situations than old highschool self. So right now, we're going to cover the survival guide for 10 minute jumps in your holidays.
Surviving through Christmas:
1. If you've somehow managed to wind up at a party, good for you. 10 minute jumps are pretty common at this point. I'd be pretty safe and sure that what you're experiencing is drunkenness. So lucky for you. You wont remember a damn thing that night. Unless you somehow wind up in some totally awesome or strange situations. Lets mete Dave. he's a student at CSU Hayward. (I know its not called that nymore, but I dont care. I still call it what I want to call it. I'm stubborn that way :D) Ok. So Dave is at his friend's party. Dave is at Kate's party and and he's intoxicated. Obviously. Let's watch.
Dave: Kaaaaate! Great super fun-tastic part.
Kyle: I'm Kyle dude.
D: Oh. Sory KAAAAATE!!!!1!
Kate: Oh hey d-dave. How are you?
D: Totally kick ass man.
K: I see you found the booze. That was locked in my parent's cabinet.
D: Totally
*time quirk*
D: wha?
K: that was the worst sex ever. never ever ever call me again!
So what went wrong there? Obviously, Dave's endowment wasn't large enough. But then again, you gotta play your actions and times just right.
D: Hey man, how's things?
Kyle: Cool, Kate throws pretty nice bashes. Hey. Kate's parents keep a ton of booze stashed in a glass cabinet in the office. Wanna go punch it in and get really started up?
D: Nah i'm cool
*time quirk*
D: bwah?
*In a kegstand*
D: Woooooo! *beer shoots out from everywhere*
Kyle: Damn Dave!
*time quirk again*
kate: Best sex ever!
So you gotta play your cards just right.
2. The inevitable Family Get together. Meet Maurice. He's just come home from college. He's going to have to sit through conversations with his relatives and on and on and on. But play into a time quirk correctly, it can be good. Make sure, you always have a rebound excuse if you're suddenly pulled into a trap.
Maurice: So uncle Dave, how are you
UD: I'm good. How's school.
M: not bad
UD: Good. I hope your grades are up
M: They are
UD: When I was there at Vartonol U, I used to hang out at...
*time quirk*
UD: So do you recall any sort of place called the pink pussy?
M: Only on weekends.
UD: Hahah! Good lad. Here's a beer.
Surviving through Ethnic Holidays
As I celebrate neither ethnic holidays usually celebrated around this time of year, I wont go into too much detail.
*time quirk*
And that's what you call a triple kwanza shot.
So in a nutshell, that's all that it is. Merry christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy whatever else, and Happy New years! So have a good one time travellers. I'm your blogger, Czach
So at this point you're wondering. What possible other situations can we go through. Well, As a college student, you'll have more situations than old highschool self. So right now, we're going to cover the survival guide for 10 minute jumps in your holidays.
Surviving through Christmas:
1. If you've somehow managed to wind up at a party, good for you. 10 minute jumps are pretty common at this point. I'd be pretty safe and sure that what you're experiencing is drunkenness. So lucky for you. You wont remember a damn thing that night. Unless you somehow wind up in some totally awesome or strange situations. Lets mete Dave. he's a student at CSU Hayward. (I know its not called that nymore, but I dont care. I still call it what I want to call it. I'm stubborn that way :D) Ok. So Dave is at his friend's party. Dave is at Kate's party and and he's intoxicated. Obviously. Let's watch.
Dave: Kaaaaate! Great super fun-tastic part.
Kyle: I'm Kyle dude.
D: Oh. Sory KAAAAATE!!!!1!
Kate: Oh hey d-dave. How are you?
D: Totally kick ass man.
K: I see you found the booze. That was locked in my parent's cabinet.
D: Totally
*time quirk*
D: wha?
K: that was the worst sex ever. never ever ever call me again!
So what went wrong there? Obviously, Dave's endowment wasn't large enough. But then again, you gotta play your actions and times just right.
D: Hey man, how's things?
Kyle: Cool, Kate throws pretty nice bashes. Hey. Kate's parents keep a ton of booze stashed in a glass cabinet in the office. Wanna go punch it in and get really started up?
D: Nah i'm cool
*time quirk*
D: bwah?
*In a kegstand*
D: Woooooo! *beer shoots out from everywhere*
Kyle: Damn Dave!
*time quirk again*
kate: Best sex ever!
So you gotta play your cards just right.
2. The inevitable Family Get together. Meet Maurice. He's just come home from college. He's going to have to sit through conversations with his relatives and on and on and on. But play into a time quirk correctly, it can be good. Make sure, you always have a rebound excuse if you're suddenly pulled into a trap.
Maurice: So uncle Dave, how are you
UD: I'm good. How's school.
M: not bad
UD: Good. I hope your grades are up
M: They are
UD: When I was there at Vartonol U, I used to hang out at...
*time quirk*
UD: So do you recall any sort of place called the pink pussy?
M: Only on weekends.
UD: Hahah! Good lad. Here's a beer.
Surviving through Ethnic Holidays
As I celebrate neither ethnic holidays usually celebrated around this time of year, I wont go into too much detail.
*time quirk*
And that's what you call a triple kwanza shot.
So in a nutshell, that's all that it is. Merry christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy whatever else, and Happy New years! So have a good one time travellers. I'm your blogger, Czach
For once
I've been fairly neglectful on my behalf in up keeping my web logs. Yes I know, its been a month. Get over it. So I didn't' post for exactly one month. In that time, I've managed to lose all ability to use a keyboard properly so I'm having the dandiest time trying to write this.
I've been through the Rally Committee's "hell week". A week long of sleepless nights, endless numbers of rallies and in the end, the axe left our hands. For the first time in 5 years. It went back to the other side. I didn't cry. I had to be a brave big boy and hold back the emotion for later so I wouldn't end up on ESPN's losing faces page. Whats worse was I had a front row seat. Right behind the O in California on the Banner. You know, the sheer audacity of Stanfurd's players. To practice kicking and purposely trying to hit the banner. Mo-rons cant hold anything to themselves. When you give a 'furd student the opportunity to steal, he steals for the thrill. When we have the chance, we steal for glory and the respect of the University. Then again, its always a risk when stealing from the Farm. Who knows, you'll run into a bunch of slut cheerleaders who look like cows.
We always love a victory. This year's season has had the craziest changes i've ever seen in the years i've been watching Cal football. Never have I seen the school go from 2nd to 24th in a month. That's on some other polls. The big polls didn't even have us ranked. This made me sad.
The all knowing bear "Tedford" once gave Pig and Rat advice. Avoid Costly Turnovers.
That didn't happen this year.
So christmas time, finals, etc. It all went by quickly. Out of my entire list, I only got one thing I asked for. And that was probably the most obscure item on there. I didn't even get Steven Colbert's I Am America (and so can you!).
I'm back into the RP on Nation States. Somehow, I started again. I think it was through persistent nagging on Jess' behalf as well as the need for something to do while I was at home. I'd forgotten how boring Alameda was once you went to Berkeley.
Lets compare homes. In Alameda, the foot traffic outside my house is .5 persons per hour. That's on a good day. On a lucky day, i'll have a group of 5 kids go by in 8 hours. Car traffic is about 10 per hour. I guess its because everyone drives an automobile nowadays.
In Berkeley, outside my Dormitory/"Residence Hall" as my RA so aptly put it, its around 102 persons per hour. Also, maybe because through that way is the fastest way to Yogurt Park. Cars, dont get started. Its an alarming 36 cars per minute. Of course, I'm glad my room faces the other way. Towards the courtyard. Where it faces a gigantic stupid tree. No one can see my weather instruments. But they did see my fantastic masking tape sign that said: the intergral of "e" to the x power is fun. It would look something like Se^x is fun. Just mod the S into an intergral sign or something.
Here at home, yes, all my great child hood and high school friends are here. Jeff from Drafting and english, Stacey from english as well as the afterschool Park visits. Steffie from Joo's and all my little junior. I mean "senior" friends now. I miss them a bit. Just outside the school system :P
So i'm stuck remodeling my own bathroom. At least the horrid wallpaper is gone. That's all I can say. Who likes a white wall paper with blue green and manila stripes? Blech. So after what? 14 years, its finally out. I managed to do the shower room all by myself. All I needed was a screwdriver, my buck knife and a stepladder. I had that room de-papered in an hour.
So there's something to think about. Something to write about. Something to hold you over for another month no? :D
I've been through the Rally Committee's "hell week". A week long of sleepless nights, endless numbers of rallies and in the end, the axe left our hands. For the first time in 5 years. It went back to the other side. I didn't cry. I had to be a brave big boy and hold back the emotion for later so I wouldn't end up on ESPN's losing faces page. Whats worse was I had a front row seat. Right behind the O in California on the Banner. You know, the sheer audacity of Stanfurd's players. To practice kicking and purposely trying to hit the banner. Mo-rons cant hold anything to themselves. When you give a 'furd student the opportunity to steal, he steals for the thrill. When we have the chance, we steal for glory and the respect of the University. Then again, its always a risk when stealing from the Farm. Who knows, you'll run into a bunch of slut cheerleaders who look like cows.
We always love a victory. This year's season has had the craziest changes i've ever seen in the years i've been watching Cal football. Never have I seen the school go from 2nd to 24th in a month. That's on some other polls. The big polls didn't even have us ranked. This made me sad.
The all knowing bear "Tedford" once gave Pig and Rat advice. Avoid Costly Turnovers.
That didn't happen this year.
So christmas time, finals, etc. It all went by quickly. Out of my entire list, I only got one thing I asked for. And that was probably the most obscure item on there. I didn't even get Steven Colbert's I Am America (and so can you!).
I'm back into the RP on Nation States. Somehow, I started again. I think it was through persistent nagging on Jess' behalf as well as the need for something to do while I was at home. I'd forgotten how boring Alameda was once you went to Berkeley.
Lets compare homes. In Alameda, the foot traffic outside my house is .5 persons per hour. That's on a good day. On a lucky day, i'll have a group of 5 kids go by in 8 hours. Car traffic is about 10 per hour. I guess its because everyone drives an automobile nowadays.
In Berkeley, outside my Dormitory/"Residence Hall" as my RA so aptly put it, its around 102 persons per hour. Also, maybe because through that way is the fastest way to Yogurt Park. Cars, dont get started. Its an alarming 36 cars per minute. Of course, I'm glad my room faces the other way. Towards the courtyard. Where it faces a gigantic stupid tree. No one can see my weather instruments. But they did see my fantastic masking tape sign that said: the intergral of "e" to the x power is fun. It would look something like Se^x is fun. Just mod the S into an intergral sign or something.
Here at home, yes, all my great child hood and high school friends are here. Jeff from Drafting and english, Stacey from english as well as the afterschool Park visits. Steffie from Joo's and all my little junior. I mean "senior" friends now. I miss them a bit. Just outside the school system :P
So i'm stuck remodeling my own bathroom. At least the horrid wallpaper is gone. That's all I can say. Who likes a white wall paper with blue green and manila stripes? Blech. So after what? 14 years, its finally out. I managed to do the shower room all by myself. All I needed was a screwdriver, my buck knife and a stepladder. I had that room de-papered in an hour.
So there's something to think about. Something to write about. Something to hold you over for another month no? :D
November 23, 2007
Czach is home for the holiday
I'm home. So there's alot to do. I still need four more sporting events for the requirements
for the big game ticket I need. So what does Czach need to do? Well, he's cutting his holiday short just to return to go and help out at the Speikier Water complex for rally com events. So tomorrow and sunday will cover that. And then he also has an MSE presentation due monday as well as a cable car rally to do that day as well. God there's too much to do. What will I do? At least I'll have most of the requirements down.
So next week is the big game week. There's alot to do.
*note*
*this entry was stopped, then resumed today: November 27, 2007. Two days into BGW.
So already, I'm tired, I'm exhausted, and I've still got more work to do. It seems right now that its a never ending line of work to constantly do. In fact, right now, i'm still doing work as we speak.
for the big game ticket I need. So what does Czach need to do? Well, he's cutting his holiday short just to return to go and help out at the Speikier Water complex for rally com events. So tomorrow and sunday will cover that. And then he also has an MSE presentation due monday as well as a cable car rally to do that day as well. God there's too much to do. What will I do? At least I'll have most of the requirements down.
So next week is the big game week. There's alot to do.
*note*
*this entry was stopped, then resumed today: November 27, 2007. Two days into BGW.
So already, I'm tired, I'm exhausted, and I've still got more work to do. It seems right now that its a never ending line of work to constantly do. In fact, right now, i'm still doing work as we speak.
November 19, 2007
For your enjoyment: Time Laspe Photography
it never ceases to amaze me...
http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=684920
http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=684920
November 13, 2007
How to survive 10 mintues into the future: Lectures
Lets take a metaphorical example, take you and time and tweak it. You have now been thrown forward, into the future... TEN WHOLE MINUTES
Lets take a metaphorical example. Meet Fred. He's your average chemistry student at Vanderbilt college. Sitting through a lecture on molecular structures of organic compounds, he suddenly feels very strange. Very very very strange. At this point, he has transversed across space. Space time and jelly beans as we know it. He has travelled... ten minutes. Into the future!!
First, dont panic. That's what your future 10 minutes from now friends expect. Or maybe it isn't. But other than that, we really wont know how anyone in the future will react. What this article will help you, is to deal with the ten minutes of the future. And today, we'll deal with the lecture.
Step one: Dont panic, you've done the reading
As long as you've done it. If you know what I mean. Ok. So if the conversation suddenly jumps into a totally new section, one of two things will happen. I can guarantee it. You'll either understand the conversation, or you'll have absolutely no idea what the hell they're talking about. The first situation is thanks to: Reading before class! The second situation is a result of *ominous music* not reading the night before! So here's an example of what is likely to happen. So let's go look in on Fred.
(Fred read the night before)
GSI: So class, Janick states that the mind is a quagmire that cannot comprehend new data in a modular form.
Bill: But then that contradicts Usther's theorem that any new data is comprehended over a slow period.
Fred: But then Usther is recgonized by the catholic as well as the american psychological society as a radicalist and cannot comprehend the actual details of a working mind
*time quirk*
GSI: So if Usther and Janick met, the consequential algorithm would be in such a cataclysmal manner that the necessary hereditary abilities would be lost.
Fred: But then, what if they were to cross paths without meeting would the resulting experience might eliminate the possibilities of apathy.
GSI: Very good. Have some candy.
(Fred didn't read the night before)
GSI: So if you induce an pulating and repeating force, the amplitude of the wave effect on the tensile string will result in a parallel shift.
Will: What would be the effect of the quantum parables on the system?
Fred: Well, the effect would result in the creation of excessive amounts of force on the outer limits of the system
Will: Ahhh i get it.
*time quirk*
Will: So what would the be the the degrheteryan mode of the paranormal shift in the case of oscillating phalluses?
GSI: Well the quantum phose shift will result in the creation of multiple parables that create a modular quangular delanger on the freschon. The quarbled deton of the mischav will multifrange the descalanator. Fred, what's the resultant of the dilution?
Fred: fuck!
(*I know for the sake of you college students, I made up at least half the words used by the GSI in the second situation)
Step two: Ask questions to make it seem like nothing happened
Even if you dont have any idea what class you're in, still ask questions that are broad and generic. It works everywhere. Trust me. Advanced linear analytical calculus? No problem. Material Science Engineering analysis on stone frequencies? No problem! Taxidermy 101? Works like a charm. So let's put Fred in our little situation.
In Math Class
*fred wakes up*
GSI: Mr. Wilton, Is there a question you have?
Fred: Yes, can you apply this to the homework?
GSI: *taken aback* Uh, sure. You put this over here
*does homework problem*
Fred: *copies homework then turns it in*
In Physics Lecture
Professor: Mr. Wilton!
*Fred wakes up*
Fred: Yes, I was awake
Prof: Then ask me a question *smug look*
Fred: In what way does can the problem be applied in real life?
Prof: Uh... it cant. It exists only in perfect systems.
Fred: So are you calling me a failure?
Prof: No! Of course not
Fred: Fine, i'm leaving I need to see my psychiatrist.
*walks out of lecture hall, and walks to bar*
In Taxidermy 101
GSI: Mr. Wilton...
Fred: *snore*
GSI: *pokes Fred with a taxidermy pin
Fred: yeow! What was that for.
GSI: Sleeping
Fred: No I wasnt...
GSI: So ask me a question relating to the chapter
Fred: Can we apply the technique to things that require constant moisture?
GSI: Uh, the technique of cross stitching can in fact be applied to large sport fish, but not small trout and fish like that.
Fred: *pretends to write it down* Thanks GSI
Step three: steal notes
Does it really seem that illogical to steal someone's notes? Of course not. Not when your booty is on the line. At this point, you're going to either take a pen scanner and scan everything and read it over later. In the mean time, sleep through the rest of the lecture. When you go home, upload the file you scanned with your pen scanner. Got it there on your desktop? Good. Now delete it. Hah, as if you've ever need them before. You're a one man test wrecking machine!
Step four: Just leave
Its college. Who's going to care if you fail? Other than you and your parents and family and friends and your GSIs and peer advisers. Everyone else wont care. They're your new friends now! Make sure you get me the one girl who doesn't remember your name or face's number. She's totally hot.
So with that in mind, remember. Happy futures mean you did something bad in the past! I'm your blogger, Zach
Lets take a metaphorical example. Meet Fred. He's your average chemistry student at Vanderbilt college. Sitting through a lecture on molecular structures of organic compounds, he suddenly feels very strange. Very very very strange. At this point, he has transversed across space. Space time and jelly beans as we know it. He has travelled... ten minutes. Into the future!!
First, dont panic. That's what your future 10 minutes from now friends expect. Or maybe it isn't. But other than that, we really wont know how anyone in the future will react. What this article will help you, is to deal with the ten minutes of the future. And today, we'll deal with the lecture.
Step one: Dont panic, you've done the reading
As long as you've done it. If you know what I mean. Ok. So if the conversation suddenly jumps into a totally new section, one of two things will happen. I can guarantee it. You'll either understand the conversation, or you'll have absolutely no idea what the hell they're talking about. The first situation is thanks to: Reading before class! The second situation is a result of *ominous music* not reading the night before! So here's an example of what is likely to happen. So let's go look in on Fred.
(Fred read the night before)
GSI: So class, Janick states that the mind is a quagmire that cannot comprehend new data in a modular form.
Bill: But then that contradicts Usther's theorem that any new data is comprehended over a slow period.
Fred: But then Usther is recgonized by the catholic as well as the american psychological society as a radicalist and cannot comprehend the actual details of a working mind
*time quirk*
GSI: So if Usther and Janick met, the consequential algorithm would be in such a cataclysmal manner that the necessary hereditary abilities would be lost.
Fred: But then, what if they were to cross paths without meeting would the resulting experience might eliminate the possibilities of apathy.
GSI: Very good. Have some candy.
(Fred didn't read the night before)
GSI: So if you induce an pulating and repeating force, the amplitude of the wave effect on the tensile string will result in a parallel shift.
Will: What would be the effect of the quantum parables on the system?
Fred: Well, the effect would result in the creation of excessive amounts of force on the outer limits of the system
Will: Ahhh i get it.
*time quirk*
Will: So what would the be the the degrheteryan mode of the paranormal shift in the case of oscillating phalluses?
GSI: Well the quantum phose shift will result in the creation of multiple parables that create a modular quangular delanger on the freschon. The quarbled deton of the mischav will multifrange the descalanator. Fred, what's the resultant of the dilution?
Fred: fuck!
(*I know for the sake of you college students, I made up at least half the words used by the GSI in the second situation)
Step two: Ask questions to make it seem like nothing happened
Even if you dont have any idea what class you're in, still ask questions that are broad and generic. It works everywhere. Trust me. Advanced linear analytical calculus? No problem. Material Science Engineering analysis on stone frequencies? No problem! Taxidermy 101? Works like a charm. So let's put Fred in our little situation.
In Math Class
*fred wakes up*
GSI: Mr. Wilton, Is there a question you have?
Fred: Yes, can you apply this to the homework?
GSI: *taken aback* Uh, sure. You put this over here
*does homework problem*
Fred: *copies homework then turns it in*
In Physics Lecture
Professor: Mr. Wilton!
*Fred wakes up*
Fred: Yes, I was awake
Prof: Then ask me a question *smug look*
Fred: In what way does can the problem be applied in real life?
Prof: Uh... it cant. It exists only in perfect systems.
Fred: So are you calling me a failure?
Prof: No! Of course not
Fred: Fine, i'm leaving I need to see my psychiatrist.
*walks out of lecture hall, and walks to bar*
In Taxidermy 101
GSI: Mr. Wilton...
Fred: *snore*
GSI: *pokes Fred with a taxidermy pin
Fred: yeow! What was that for.
GSI: Sleeping
Fred: No I wasnt...
GSI: So ask me a question relating to the chapter
Fred: Can we apply the technique to things that require constant moisture?
GSI: Uh, the technique of cross stitching can in fact be applied to large sport fish, but not small trout and fish like that.
Fred: *pretends to write it down* Thanks GSI
Step three: steal notes
Does it really seem that illogical to steal someone's notes? Of course not. Not when your booty is on the line. At this point, you're going to either take a pen scanner and scan everything and read it over later. In the mean time, sleep through the rest of the lecture. When you go home, upload the file you scanned with your pen scanner. Got it there on your desktop? Good. Now delete it. Hah, as if you've ever need them before. You're a one man test wrecking machine!
Step four: Just leave
Its college. Who's going to care if you fail? Other than you and your parents and family and friends and your GSIs and peer advisers. Everyone else wont care. They're your new friends now! Make sure you get me the one girl who doesn't remember your name or face's number. She's totally hot.
So with that in mind, remember. Happy futures mean you did something bad in the past! I'm your blogger, Zach
A note on throwing things away
Living in a dormitory, I highly advise you, make sure you keep clean as much as possible. Be it vacuuming alot or just merely arranging the room in a pleasant way so that the vacuumable area is not obstructed.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I ended rearranging my room so now I have stadium seating and other than that, Where my old drawers used to be, there was a thin line of garbage. Disgusting. But its not as bad as the refuse in the laundry room floor. Lint, garbage, socks, dust, wrappers and detergent powder.
Thank you cleaning staff for not working over the weekend. The whole unit three turns into a garbage dump over the three day weekend. Which is also kinda cool.
Also, we got a notice for throwing things out of the windows. Apparently, the lower floors (i.e. 1-6) spens black takes great enjoyment of throwing things out of the windows and balconies. I saw a watermelon fall, a pineapple on the roof, A chair and even a florescent light bulb. The latter three, didn't see fall. But stuff I threw out was usually just dusty water from my cup which always fell onto the balcony. I checked first! And harmless paper airfoils. The sort of thing that would more likely be hurt by a troublesome toddler on a rampage.
Zach's new word:
Ajaust: A victorious, sure fire candidate in a jousting or sparring match.
i.e. Clemens is the ajaust in the match against Pinieleppi with an amazing record of 88-2-13 for today's joust.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I ended rearranging my room so now I have stadium seating and other than that, Where my old drawers used to be, there was a thin line of garbage. Disgusting. But its not as bad as the refuse in the laundry room floor. Lint, garbage, socks, dust, wrappers and detergent powder.
Thank you cleaning staff for not working over the weekend. The whole unit three turns into a garbage dump over the three day weekend. Which is also kinda cool.
Also, we got a notice for throwing things out of the windows. Apparently, the lower floors (i.e. 1-6) spens black takes great enjoyment of throwing things out of the windows and balconies. I saw a watermelon fall, a pineapple on the roof, A chair and even a florescent light bulb. The latter three, didn't see fall. But stuff I threw out was usually just dusty water from my cup which always fell onto the balcony. I checked first! And harmless paper airfoils. The sort of thing that would more likely be hurt by a troublesome toddler on a rampage.
Zach's new word:
Ajaust: A victorious, sure fire candidate in a jousting or sparring match.
i.e. Clemens is the ajaust in the match against Pinieleppi with an amazing record of 88-2-13 for today's joust.
Just for you
I dont really know what the title really has to do with this post. For the first time, i have nothing to blog about. Ok, I lied. This is the millionth time, I've got nothing to blog about. Since the last time I wrote, I guess I can update you guys now. But at this point, I feel the whole point of my blog is to constantly update you guys wiht little petty things I've done in the black spots of time between posts. So, I'm gonna make a stop of that.
But first, an update. I've finally cleaned my room. It feels nice. i can walk barefoot and not be afraid to do so. So I strees, if you're one of my friends, please feel free to visit. Just call me first. If you dont know my number. Shame on you, you non-friend person.
So i'm gonna vent. Over the past few days, i've gotten lazy, and its obviously been showing, I haven't done any homework for awhile. I'm ashamed of myself. Lie. I have done homework. Just not certain homeworks. Yeah. That's my story. So the last few months of the entire ED1 experience is slowly beginning to wind down and at this point, i'm not quite sure if I want to be an architect. I mean, I love design, but the way I build models, I'm put in shame by other people just in my section even. I mean, my first model was nice, i did it a few days before so i had time to make plenty of corrections. Now, I dont even have money to do much work. *scoff* I have a model due in two days, I've only goten drawings done. Gaaaaah.
I discovered itunes after finally collapsing to the whims of my friends and the pressure. Maybe windows media player wasn't all that. maybe there was something even better than real player. Just maybe. I like it actually. The upload format is kidna quirky, but I can live with that.
I hate the blue screen.
I can sit here and just cry
All my work is gone
There once was a man who didn't save
And upon himself did his computer cave
Til the blue screen of death, left him bereft
That foolish college student who didn't save
I have no Idea what the purpose of the little poetic innerts was for. I just made up a word too. innerts.
Innerts (N) Pronunced (in-ehrt-ss) Am. Random inserts and blurbs which have much ado about nothing.
Life is fun sometimes. I can mold it in any way I want. I can reshape furniture, I can redesign this and i can redesign that. I'm unlimited in my boundaries and work.
But first, an update. I've finally cleaned my room. It feels nice. i can walk barefoot and not be afraid to do so. So I strees, if you're one of my friends, please feel free to visit. Just call me first. If you dont know my number. Shame on you, you non-friend person.
So i'm gonna vent. Over the past few days, i've gotten lazy, and its obviously been showing, I haven't done any homework for awhile. I'm ashamed of myself. Lie. I have done homework. Just not certain homeworks. Yeah. That's my story. So the last few months of the entire ED1 experience is slowly beginning to wind down and at this point, i'm not quite sure if I want to be an architect. I mean, I love design, but the way I build models, I'm put in shame by other people just in my section even. I mean, my first model was nice, i did it a few days before so i had time to make plenty of corrections. Now, I dont even have money to do much work. *scoff* I have a model due in two days, I've only goten drawings done. Gaaaaah.
I discovered itunes after finally collapsing to the whims of my friends and the pressure. Maybe windows media player wasn't all that. maybe there was something even better than real player. Just maybe. I like it actually. The upload format is kidna quirky, but I can live with that.
I hate the blue screen.
I can sit here and just cry
All my work is gone
There once was a man who didn't save
And upon himself did his computer cave
Til the blue screen of death, left him bereft
That foolish college student who didn't save
I have no Idea what the purpose of the little poetic innerts was for. I just made up a word too. innerts.
Innerts (N) Pronunced (in-ehrt-ss) Am. Random inserts and blurbs which have much ado about nothing.
Life is fun sometimes. I can mold it in any way I want. I can reshape furniture, I can redesign this and i can redesign that. I'm unlimited in my boundaries and work.
October 27, 2007
Dear Bears...
Come on Bears, you've never let me down like this before. I know, I shouldn't be a "Cal Fan" the kind who turns red the moment the season goes sour. But i'm sitting here, listening to Mr. Starkey on the radio and i'm getting worried. I'm not going turn coat or anything like that, but I just want to know what you're really doing. When your offensive line was uber strong in the 5 game streak, now the defense is doing bad, and now you, but the defense not so much. Curse the radio and its lack of TV-ness. But even Mr. Starkey is showing the otherwise. He said no miracles in sight. Or something like that. Compared to the speech he gave at colloquium, Joe Starkey said: Cal's going to need a miracle to save them (the play). Blah blah blah. I'm pissed. No, not really. Really Dissapointed. Kinda like a parent who finds out their child is failing school, impregnated a girl and smoking pot constantly. I want you do better. I want not just longer practices, but more effective training and intense training.
COME ON!
frock frock frokc. DEFENSE BEARS! DEFENSE! *clap clap*
Sorry, I'm trying to listen to the game on the radio. *Cries*
How can you? Why did you? Why aren't I wearing the lucky underpants and Cal Tshirt?
Quiet you Arizona...
1st half go!
I'm just gibbering now. Gosh.
Oregon and Arizona st... powerhouses. It sounds so strange.
Damn... the game's over...
31-20...
So much for the amazing season we were hoping for...
There's still hope. Sort of...
Well, no more rose bowl.
It was this close. Right in front of our faces...
FUCK!
What turned on us? What cruel fate turned on us to cause the loss streak? Why? Was it something I did?
I'm turning into a fan freak. The kind that does the special thing everytime the game is happening. I used to wear the same underpants and tshirt for all the games. Maybe that's the problem. I shouldn't wash them ever...
COME ON!
frock frock frokc. DEFENSE BEARS! DEFENSE! *clap clap*
Sorry, I'm trying to listen to the game on the radio. *Cries*
How can you? Why did you? Why aren't I wearing the lucky underpants and Cal Tshirt?
Quiet you Arizona...
1st half go!
I'm just gibbering now. Gosh.
Oregon and Arizona st... powerhouses. It sounds so strange.
Damn... the game's over...
31-20...
So much for the amazing season we were hoping for...
There's still hope. Sort of...
Well, no more rose bowl.
It was this close. Right in front of our faces...
FUCK!
What turned on us? What cruel fate turned on us to cause the loss streak? Why? Was it something I did?
I'm turning into a fan freak. The kind that does the special thing everytime the game is happening. I used to wear the same underpants and tshirt for all the games. Maybe that's the problem. I shouldn't wash them ever...
October 21, 2007
Hum
I always say, a post is long overdue and yet, I do nothing. I just sit in my room and just stare at the computer.
And I just left and came back. For a whole half hour. I'm a terrible person! Gaaaugh.... I'm so easily distracted out here in college. Work is always an option, one that, at first, can be taken fairly lightly and as time goes on, you'll definetly need to step it up. And I just think, i'm turning into that one guy wiht the beer belly and the comb over sitting in an e-z-boy just watching from a bunny ears tv the news or something of that or a similar nature. But then, I hear on the radio that the bunny ears are being phased out at this point. Kinda weird feeling. As a kid, you always grew up with these certain ideals. Safeway and Luckys. Then when Albertsons came along, you got freaked out. That's kinda what i'm feeling at this point, knowing that the ears will be useless. After serving me well for the past 18 years of my life. I recall grandma's tv in her room that used to have the old fashioned pull out knobs and the set channels on the TV. Now that was a tv. Back on those days when they used to be a piece of furniture. Now, everything has reached this threshold of digital confusion and for certain, I'm gonna fall behind in all this foward moving technology. I cant even figure out how to do certain functions on a computer and trying to do so just throws me off at some points.
So what's great about college. Alot of people keep asking me that. As if something really amazing is supposed to happen. Like in all the movies you see portrayed by hollywood. With everyone getting drunk and there be a total plethora of boobies and hot blonde chicks trying get laid with the hot looking guy or the guy who's pretty ugly but owns an entire house. College is nothing like that. So far, its been alot of studying, alot of sleeping, alot of missed sleeping and alot of eating dorm food. If anything, dorm food is disgusting and i can help but find myself lost in a sea of meat loaf, jungle curry and fountain sodas.
But there are its ups. But it varies from college to college. UC Berkeley is nestled into the heart of Berkeley. Without it, Berkeley would probably be just another suburban town located just north of Oakland. The university brings so much life to this area and my dorm is just wedged right here. Wedged in without thought or process. I guess the University owns alot of land and I cant blame them, they've been probably the largest landowners since 1868. But back to where I live. What can I say? Its truly an amazing place, all the shops, tea places, bars and restaurants. It gets crazy. I can say that one person on my floor has vomited in our bathrooms twice as of yesterday. First time, he wandered in drunk and puked all over the door. Second time, at least it happened one floor below me. I guess if I had moved to Cal Poly instead of Berkeley, I would most likely have spent a million less dollars. I'm sure about that. But then again, CP dont have a football team I enjoy watching with friends.
Speaking of friends, I miss the Brownsons alot for certain. Espically when we'd go watch the Bears games. It was a new and sensational feeling. Being the nerdy spaz that I am, I had never been to a collegiate football game in my life. Look at me now, freshman free tickets, UC Rally Com, I get great seats.
Living out here, like 12 miles from home, you would think: Oh hey, that guy's not home sick at all. I totally think that. I'm sure he can survive out and never get sad at all. Not true, I guess i'm starting to really feel the misery and sadness that's associated with this lack of going home. I'm planning going home soon.
And I just left and came back. For a whole half hour. I'm a terrible person! Gaaaugh.... I'm so easily distracted out here in college. Work is always an option, one that, at first, can be taken fairly lightly and as time goes on, you'll definetly need to step it up. And I just think, i'm turning into that one guy wiht the beer belly and the comb over sitting in an e-z-boy just watching from a bunny ears tv the news or something of that or a similar nature. But then, I hear on the radio that the bunny ears are being phased out at this point. Kinda weird feeling. As a kid, you always grew up with these certain ideals. Safeway and Luckys. Then when Albertsons came along, you got freaked out. That's kinda what i'm feeling at this point, knowing that the ears will be useless. After serving me well for the past 18 years of my life. I recall grandma's tv in her room that used to have the old fashioned pull out knobs and the set channels on the TV. Now that was a tv. Back on those days when they used to be a piece of furniture. Now, everything has reached this threshold of digital confusion and for certain, I'm gonna fall behind in all this foward moving technology. I cant even figure out how to do certain functions on a computer and trying to do so just throws me off at some points.
So what's great about college. Alot of people keep asking me that. As if something really amazing is supposed to happen. Like in all the movies you see portrayed by hollywood. With everyone getting drunk and there be a total plethora of boobies and hot blonde chicks trying get laid with the hot looking guy or the guy who's pretty ugly but owns an entire house. College is nothing like that. So far, its been alot of studying, alot of sleeping, alot of missed sleeping and alot of eating dorm food. If anything, dorm food is disgusting and i can help but find myself lost in a sea of meat loaf, jungle curry and fountain sodas.
But there are its ups. But it varies from college to college. UC Berkeley is nestled into the heart of Berkeley. Without it, Berkeley would probably be just another suburban town located just north of Oakland. The university brings so much life to this area and my dorm is just wedged right here. Wedged in without thought or process. I guess the University owns alot of land and I cant blame them, they've been probably the largest landowners since 1868. But back to where I live. What can I say? Its truly an amazing place, all the shops, tea places, bars and restaurants. It gets crazy. I can say that one person on my floor has vomited in our bathrooms twice as of yesterday. First time, he wandered in drunk and puked all over the door. Second time, at least it happened one floor below me. I guess if I had moved to Cal Poly instead of Berkeley, I would most likely have spent a million less dollars. I'm sure about that. But then again, CP dont have a football team I enjoy watching with friends.
Speaking of friends, I miss the Brownsons alot for certain. Espically when we'd go watch the Bears games. It was a new and sensational feeling. Being the nerdy spaz that I am, I had never been to a collegiate football game in my life. Look at me now, freshman free tickets, UC Rally Com, I get great seats.
Living out here, like 12 miles from home, you would think: Oh hey, that guy's not home sick at all. I totally think that. I'm sure he can survive out and never get sad at all. Not true, I guess i'm starting to really feel the misery and sadness that's associated with this lack of going home. I'm planning going home soon.
October 07, 2007
Thoughts from my voice recorder
Dates recorded: Unknown
1. "Dream log, uh.. I had a apparently was walking through the street and I saw this old junk shop, kind of a low shanty building. Then I suddenly grow excited cause I see and recgonize this white vest and cross belt on it and much to my amazement it was a Cal band uniform with the pants and the top part and the hat. The price for the top and the pants were 33.90 and the hat cost 12.50. Call me crazy but I wonder if these numbers have to do with anything... Ok, well... goodnight.
2. I do not wish to visit a country where the entire language consists of: "Please give me food", "Help me!" and "Look! there's an american. lets steal his pants.
3. You can do it...
4. Random Banjo Sounds
5. Good evening, this is the six o'clock news and I'm Dan Rathers and I endorse the following statement: "Bang, Bang. Skeet... Skeet"
1. "Dream log, uh.. I had a apparently was walking through the street and I saw this old junk shop, kind of a low shanty building. Then I suddenly grow excited cause I see and recgonize this white vest and cross belt on it and much to my amazement it was a Cal band uniform with the pants and the top part and the hat. The price for the top and the pants were 33.90 and the hat cost 12.50. Call me crazy but I wonder if these numbers have to do with anything... Ok, well... goodnight.
2. I do not wish to visit a country where the entire language consists of: "Please give me food", "Help me!" and "Look! there's an american. lets steal his pants.
3. You can do it...
4. Random Banjo Sounds
5. Good evening, this is the six o'clock news and I'm Dan Rathers and I endorse the following statement: "Bang, Bang. Skeet... Skeet"
October 02, 2007
Victory at last!
So this is what it feels like when you're in a state of high elation.
Muahah!
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/10/02/MNN6SI0OS.DTL
so after a year battling the court system, the Tree people lose and suck alot and now, the University is coming out on top as the victor.
You couldn't imagine much of a case for these people. Living in the University's property, trying to tell them what they can and cannot do, and on top of all that, they fling their poo around and increased their hostile actions against fellow university students as well. So I can say this, justice is finally served and like revenge, it tastes amazing served cold.
Muahah!
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/10/02/MNN6SI0OS.DTL
so after a year battling the court system, the Tree people lose and suck alot and now, the University is coming out on top as the victor.
You couldn't imagine much of a case for these people. Living in the University's property, trying to tell them what they can and cannot do, and on top of all that, they fling their poo around and increased their hostile actions against fellow university students as well. So I can say this, justice is finally served and like revenge, it tastes amazing served cold.
September 25, 2007
is it a real problem?
Is it a problem when you order garlic fries at a restaurant, and it has the strong odor of gasoline, paint or any sort of burning petroleum product?
I probably shouldn't have eaten those fries
I probably shouldn't have eaten those fries
September 15, 2007
Gooooood mooorning Cal Fans!
Goooooooooood Mooorning Cal Fans!
and welcome to another game day, today September 15, 2007. Its a beautiful day, hopefully cold enough to freeze some southern flowers if you catch my drift.
On the other side of the peninsula, several Spartans will be clearing the forest,
Unfortunately, Some of us feel extreme sympathy for the forest and would like them to win a game so they dont bring the pac 10 so much.
and welcome to another game day, today September 15, 2007. Its a beautiful day, hopefully cold enough to freeze some southern flowers if you catch my drift.
On the other side of the peninsula, several Spartans will be clearing the forest,
Unfortunately, Some of us feel extreme sympathy for the forest and would like them to win a game so they dont bring the pac 10 so much.
September 09, 2007
Sorry Livia: College Life
Welcome! I read something I like that was on Oh My Livia (see blogroll for link), and I just wanted to do the same thing. My guess is that we're both freshmen in college and certainly at very different schools. Me, UC Berkeley and she, I dont really know. But I wanted to do something similar with what I like and dont like about colleges. (Sorry to her if some of the things are just like hers as well, but I think they're just as awesome.
So here goes.
Top 5 things I love about college
5. The bonding between you and your floor mates. Seriously, I think that some of these people will be your best friends for the next few years. On our floor, we had some pretty crazy activities going on, hallcest, floorcest, dormcest, our own floor orchestra, sushi parties, sleeping in other people's beds, fooling around with people who pass out in front of your door step and throwing things out of the 8th floor window. *cough*soccerball*cough cough*. 'scuse me...
4. The convenience of having a dining common right outside of your building. I swear, its more convenient than most other things. I mean, pull out my ID from my wallet, swipe and i'm good to go and eat food!
3. The option of going to class
2. The Campiniele is such a wonderful place, I've made several sketches of it, being an architecture student of course, and the view is magnificent. I dont know why I forgot my camera that day, but the day I went up was the last day you could even see the golden gate bridge and the rest of the bay area. As usual, Evans hall is an eyesore to look at.
1. The world of culture in Berkeley. It seems that every single culture in the world possibly has managed to mash up into the 40 square miles that is Berkeley. Dancing, chanting, music and Art, its everywhere! I cannot turn my head without being acclaimed as the latest masterpiece of phenomenal tai chi.
Top five things I hate about College
5. Doing my own laundry. I used to make my own little brother do the whole thing, now I have to do it on my own and watch it too and the whole process is like an hour and a half. Maybe more. The first time I did it, it wasn't too bad. i thought there was at least a sky light that had opaque panels that opened to the sky. Then I realized that right above is the DC and upon closer inspection of panels themselves and for heaven's sake! Fluorescent tubes! Biggest let down since that one episode of How I met your Mother.
4. Class in Evans Hall. Other Berkeley students hopefully agree with me on this one. Having sections in an indoor classroom at Evans is like being stuck in the Fishbowl classroom twice back in High School. But walking to class in Evans Hall is almost reminiscent of walking through the death star and taking class in the Death Star. Gaah, talk about dreary. Andre makes up for having class there though.
3. Hearing religious radical yell profanities such as "JESUS HATES MORMONS! JESUS HATES JEWS! JESUS HATES HOMOSEXUALS!" Being as I am, I am offended by all of these comments. Being the Asian bisexual mormon/jew I am, I find total offense from these people. And because of the sixties, they have a right to say that. But I wonder, at what point does the public have the right to use the university to spread their message? I'm sure there's a public threshold and right but to spread such awful ideas.
2. The Lack of Privacy. Granted, my roommate does go home every so often for stuff, but then the rest of the time, we're usually at each other's elbows. Which is OK and all, but I miss having a private room sometimes.
1. The tree outside my window. Yes, I live on the 8th floor and it does communicate a level of privacy for me from the ground, but then I cant post stupid signs on my window for everyone to see
So here goes.
Top 5 things I love about college
5. The bonding between you and your floor mates. Seriously, I think that some of these people will be your best friends for the next few years. On our floor, we had some pretty crazy activities going on, hallcest, floorcest, dormcest, our own floor orchestra, sushi parties, sleeping in other people's beds, fooling around with people who pass out in front of your door step and throwing things out of the 8th floor window. *cough*soccerball*cough cough*. 'scuse me...
4. The convenience of having a dining common right outside of your building. I swear, its more convenient than most other things. I mean, pull out my ID from my wallet, swipe and i'm good to go and eat food!
3. The option of going to class
2. The Campiniele is such a wonderful place, I've made several sketches of it, being an architecture student of course, and the view is magnificent. I dont know why I forgot my camera that day, but the day I went up was the last day you could even see the golden gate bridge and the rest of the bay area. As usual, Evans hall is an eyesore to look at.
1. The world of culture in Berkeley. It seems that every single culture in the world possibly has managed to mash up into the 40 square miles that is Berkeley. Dancing, chanting, music and Art, its everywhere! I cannot turn my head without being acclaimed as the latest masterpiece of phenomenal tai chi.
Top five things I hate about College
5. Doing my own laundry. I used to make my own little brother do the whole thing, now I have to do it on my own and watch it too and the whole process is like an hour and a half. Maybe more. The first time I did it, it wasn't too bad. i thought there was at least a sky light that had opaque panels that opened to the sky. Then I realized that right above is the DC and upon closer inspection of panels themselves and for heaven's sake! Fluorescent tubes! Biggest let down since that one episode of How I met your Mother.
4. Class in Evans Hall. Other Berkeley students hopefully agree with me on this one. Having sections in an indoor classroom at Evans is like being stuck in the Fishbowl classroom twice back in High School. But walking to class in Evans Hall is almost reminiscent of walking through the death star and taking class in the Death Star. Gaah, talk about dreary. Andre makes up for having class there though.
3. Hearing religious radical yell profanities such as "JESUS HATES MORMONS! JESUS HATES JEWS! JESUS HATES HOMOSEXUALS!" Being as I am, I am offended by all of these comments. Being the Asian bisexual mormon/jew I am, I find total offense from these people. And because of the sixties, they have a right to say that. But I wonder, at what point does the public have the right to use the university to spread their message? I'm sure there's a public threshold and right but to spread such awful ideas.
2. The Lack of Privacy. Granted, my roommate does go home every so often for stuff, but then the rest of the time, we're usually at each other's elbows. Which is OK and all, but I miss having a private room sometimes.
1. The tree outside my window. Yes, I live on the 8th floor and it does communicate a level of privacy for me from the ground, but then I cant post stupid signs on my window for everyone to see
September 08, 2007
Gross Negligence
Yes, I've been really bad about keeping you all updated about things and nuts like this. But ok, let's do some catching up. First, I need to read my own blog to see where I even am at...
(a moment later)
Okay, I have an idea now. I should think.
So since that time I felt the spine tingling notion of an all out campus war of hippies and normies, I attended the Tennessee football game on saturday. Granted, I was a little worried when every time we scored a touchdown and Tennessee would get their own back. But then, they fizzled off. During a fourth down punt, Tenn had punted the ball to DeSean Jackson who proceeded to kick ass by scoring a 70+ yard touchdown. Next time Ts had to punt, biggest pussy ever. 13 yard punt. Obviously the shining pinnacle of Tennessee's punter's achievements.
And the Brownsons, who have been always so gracious and kind to me, had taken a starving, well maybe two starving college students for dinner on Shattuck. Calzone was absoutely delicious. I wish I had more...
Sketchbooks. My room is starting to fill up with sketchbooks and art supplies. I guess that's the slow transformation into an architect. Unfourtunate for me, the mess follows me everywhere. Heh, it wasn't until two days ago when I discovered the joys and pleasures of using Tombo water based markers to color. Its like god now and i'm actually psyched about coloring. If any you really know me, you'd all know that of all things in the world, I hated coloring. Coloring tried to make amends, oh it did. But it wouldn't work. No sir it didn't. Coloring would try its best, and here's the conversation I had with it.
Zach: Oh Zeus! I can't stand coloring things!
Coloring: Oh please, try harder!
Z: why bother?
C: look, crayola came out with some really nice new line of smooth flow color pencils, no more breaking tips!
Z: Oh stop, I hate coloring still
C: Or maybe your water colors set. You love watercolors...
Z: Yeah, I do. But its so much work and alot to clean up.
C: What about finger paints?
Z: Like I said, messy.
C: I give up
*Tombo marker walks in*
T: Hey, what's goin' on in here?
C: Not much, Zach wont color?
T: Yeah? Well, try me
*Zach uses tombo marker*
Z: Ooooh *orgasm's everywhere*
C: Damn you to hell! Damn the likes of both of you!
So that's sorta what happened.
What else? I should post pictures from my sketchbook some time. I'd do it, but then i'd have to pull out my camera and stuff like that...
Well, so long for now readers!
(a moment later)
Okay, I have an idea now. I should think.
So since that time I felt the spine tingling notion of an all out campus war of hippies and normies, I attended the Tennessee football game on saturday. Granted, I was a little worried when every time we scored a touchdown and Tennessee would get their own back. But then, they fizzled off. During a fourth down punt, Tenn had punted the ball to DeSean Jackson who proceeded to kick ass by scoring a 70+ yard touchdown. Next time Ts had to punt, biggest pussy ever. 13 yard punt. Obviously the shining pinnacle of Tennessee's punter's achievements.
And the Brownsons, who have been always so gracious and kind to me, had taken a starving, well maybe two starving college students for dinner on Shattuck. Calzone was absoutely delicious. I wish I had more...
Sketchbooks. My room is starting to fill up with sketchbooks and art supplies. I guess that's the slow transformation into an architect. Unfourtunate for me, the mess follows me everywhere. Heh, it wasn't until two days ago when I discovered the joys and pleasures of using Tombo water based markers to color. Its like god now and i'm actually psyched about coloring. If any you really know me, you'd all know that of all things in the world, I hated coloring. Coloring tried to make amends, oh it did. But it wouldn't work. No sir it didn't. Coloring would try its best, and here's the conversation I had with it.
Zach: Oh Zeus! I can't stand coloring things!
Coloring: Oh please, try harder!
Z: why bother?
C: look, crayola came out with some really nice new line of smooth flow color pencils, no more breaking tips!
Z: Oh stop, I hate coloring still
C: Or maybe your water colors set. You love watercolors...
Z: Yeah, I do. But its so much work and alot to clean up.
C: What about finger paints?
Z: Like I said, messy.
C: I give up
*Tombo marker walks in*
T: Hey, what's goin' on in here?
C: Not much, Zach wont color?
T: Yeah? Well, try me
*Zach uses tombo marker*
Z: Ooooh *orgasm's everywhere*
C: Damn you to hell! Damn the likes of both of you!
So that's sorta what happened.
What else? I should post pictures from my sketchbook some time. I'd do it, but then i'd have to pull out my camera and stuff like that...
Well, so long for now readers!
September 02, 2007
Ad Slogan Generator
Who remembers the ad slogan generator where you put a word in and it matches it up into several well known slogans. And one I noticed that was really good was dirty words. In my case, penis.
like: Is penis in you?
or: Penis licking good!
The Penis is mightier than the sword
Strong and beautiful just like a penis
and my favorite:
I cant believe I ate the whole penis
like: Is penis in you?
or: Penis licking good!
The Penis is mightier than the sword
Strong and beautiful just like a penis
and my favorite:
I cant believe I ate the whole penis
I have that gut feeling
That very feeling that something may just very well burst forth and just get really messy. I probably can safely say that there are more of us who can feel this pressure building up and I think at least this time, there'll be two sides. Those in favor, and those who still fight for it.
If you have no idea at the moment, I'm speaking of the increasing tension between the tree hippies and the football fans. At this point, even the city of berkeley has begun to attack its own university. First of all, Berkeley would still be a cow shit, farming town without the university. Why do people flock to Berkeley? Because of Telegraph avenue? Well, the only reason Tele is like that is because of the university itself. So now that the city is biting the hand that feeds it, as well as some hill panorama thing, they're arguing over people's safety. The university has proved numerous times that the new sports facility is seismically safe, and will provide an updated and less hazardous training environment.
And yet, despite the proof, Berkeley and the tree sitters refuse to let up.
As for the trees, well, they're university property and they were planted in 1923-1927 during the Howard beautification plan. After the construction of Memorial. Which explains the uniform distance between trees. Now these people have "removed dead limbs" from other trees to make their platforms. Now, to my knowledge, they have damaged other types of trees other than the coast oaks to make their platforms. You kinda see the problem here. They've damaged property for their own needs.
If only we could charge them for vandalizing property, trespassing and squatting. Unfortunately, the University is defined as a "public forum" and therefore, people are allowed to use the property for their own needs, but at this point, they've been living on university property, probably haven't submitted taxes for awhile, therefore not paying the education tax to support the university. You can use the university, if you've help pay for it of course.
But I guess they're wearing down. At first, there were probably maybe around 60, now there remains a mere six. A dedicated few (non-students) living on the university's property for the sake of saving a lower life form than that of man. Call that dedication to a sinking ship.
But back to this gut feeling. I just know at some point during this year, there'll just be a full blown war (I hope). Between us, and them. Them being the tree people.
If you have no idea at the moment, I'm speaking of the increasing tension between the tree hippies and the football fans. At this point, even the city of berkeley has begun to attack its own university. First of all, Berkeley would still be a cow shit, farming town without the university. Why do people flock to Berkeley? Because of Telegraph avenue? Well, the only reason Tele is like that is because of the university itself. So now that the city is biting the hand that feeds it, as well as some hill panorama thing, they're arguing over people's safety. The university has proved numerous times that the new sports facility is seismically safe, and will provide an updated and less hazardous training environment.
And yet, despite the proof, Berkeley and the tree sitters refuse to let up.
As for the trees, well, they're university property and they were planted in 1923-1927 during the Howard beautification plan. After the construction of Memorial. Which explains the uniform distance between trees. Now these people have "removed dead limbs" from other trees to make their platforms. Now, to my knowledge, they have damaged other types of trees other than the coast oaks to make their platforms. You kinda see the problem here. They've damaged property for their own needs.
If only we could charge them for vandalizing property, trespassing and squatting. Unfortunately, the University is defined as a "public forum" and therefore, people are allowed to use the property for their own needs, but at this point, they've been living on university property, probably haven't submitted taxes for awhile, therefore not paying the education tax to support the university. You can use the university, if you've help pay for it of course.
But I guess they're wearing down. At first, there were probably maybe around 60, now there remains a mere six. A dedicated few (non-students) living on the university's property for the sake of saving a lower life form than that of man. Call that dedication to a sinking ship.
But back to this gut feeling. I just know at some point during this year, there'll just be a full blown war (I hope). Between us, and them. Them being the tree people.
August 30, 2007
Czachi's in College
Heyo all, I'm sitting in lecture and today, I must say is one of the first times i've been late for class. I had to go from unit three to Hertz hall and to some, on a map, that doesn't seem too far, but in reality, its running up a hill about a quarter mile. And I have a bad right leg. If you knew, when I walk or run, I limp slightly and my right knee hurts all the time.
But right now, my professor: professor Brinner is talkinga bout something and I probably should be paying attention. So so long, and stay tuned.
But right now, my professor: professor Brinner is talkinga bout something and I probably should be paying attention. So so long, and stay tuned.
August 23, 2007
Czachi's update since last time
So I dont even remember what happened on my last post mostly because I've been gone forever and i've had my heart broken as well. Oh the pain, oh the pangs! Oh the overacting!
I cant pin point the exact point where I left off at the moment, but I can do a damn close job. I think it happened somewhere last in the last week or so. So lets get updated.
1. I packed for the fall training program up at davis.
2. I attended FTP. Three hard days of marching and performing. I can tell you, alot of sweat, tears and some blood went into this just get into cal band.
3. I get rejected from cal band. I cried like a fuck.
4. I get over rejection and move into my dorm room.
5. Dorm life is the best. I cant believe its like this. Life is great. Apart from rejection.
6. I bought books and stuff like that.
7. Some books I need for my italian class... backordered...
8. Life beckons!
I cant pin point the exact point where I left off at the moment, but I can do a damn close job. I think it happened somewhere last in the last week or so. So lets get updated.
1. I packed for the fall training program up at davis.
2. I attended FTP. Three hard days of marching and performing. I can tell you, alot of sweat, tears and some blood went into this just get into cal band.
3. I get rejected from cal band. I cried like a fuck.
4. I get over rejection and move into my dorm room.
5. Dorm life is the best. I cant believe its like this. Life is great. Apart from rejection.
6. I bought books and stuff like that.
7. Some books I need for my italian class... backordered...
8. Life beckons!
August 13, 2007
I just feel like stealing
From College Humor
by: Aaron Peever
The Internal Monologue of a Polo Shirt about to have its Collar Popped
Ah yes, Friday! I’ve done my time in the hamper and in the wash and now it’s finally my day in the rotation. Friday! That’s the best day to get worn. That means I’m chick-worthy. I’m the kind of shirt that is going to get a girl all excited and maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get tossed on the floor tonight. That would be so rad. The striped dress shirts will be so jealous.
by: Aaron Peever
The Internal Monologue of a Polo Shirt about to have its Collar Popped
Ah yes, Friday! I’ve done my time in the hamper and in the wash and now it’s finally my day in the rotation. Friday! That’s the best day to get worn. That means I’m chick-worthy. I’m the kind of shirt that is going to get a girl all excited and maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get tossed on the floor tonight. That would be so rad. The striped dress shirts will be so jealous.
That’s right buddy, take me off the hanger. You know I’m the pick of the week. There’s no question that I’m getting worn tonight. You even ironed me last night straight out of the dryer. Extra starch on the collar too. This is going to happen, pal. There you go buddy, toss me onto the bed to make sure I match your jeans. You know I do. Pastel Pink goes with everything my man, the chick at A&F told you so.
Yeah, that’s a good looking shirt/jean combo. This is going to work. What are you doing? Are you putting on Axe? That stuff reeks. It smells like Binaca and lighter fluid. Aw crap, now we’re going to smell like an asshole all night.
Yes, this is it. Put me on. Effin’ right we look good. Vintage fit was definitely a good choice. I totally make your arms look huge. I am so going to get tossed on the floortonight. It looks like we’re ready to hit the town. What are you doing? Oh crap, come on. Don’t flip up my collar it looks retarded. Are you serious? You’re going to go out like that with my perfectly pressed collar flipped up?No one can appreciate my thread count if you do that. Not to mention the fact that it looks mighty gay.
I hope you can pull this off my friend, because you have just cut your chances in half. Maybe if you put on a nice hat it will cancel out the lame-factor of the collar. A visor? Seriously? I’m not so sure about that. Oh shit, you did not just put that on upside down. You actually think that looks good? Give me a break, man. That is the worst idea ever. Are you trying to go home with a fat chick? Is that the case? Because you’re doing everything right if you are.
I thought tonight was going to be different. I really did. Oh well, you asked for it. I am totally going to make myself get wrinkled by the time you leave, and then we’ll see who brings anyone home. And if you spill anything on me tonight, I swear to God I will shrink in the wash. You better finish gelling your hair, I think I hear your bros coming.
Ironing
You know, Czachi is no good at Ironing. Today, I made the desperate attempt to iron shirts. As you've seen, I wear striped shirts every so often. And the polo too. But its not really necessary to iron polos. But if you would have saw me, you would have laughed and shit your pants.
August 08, 2007
The Simplest Gesture
You ever had one of those days? You're moody, the sky is overcast, you have to run between two cities to drop off important documents and the only way is by public transportation. I had one of those days today. I left around 10:30 to run down to the school to pick up a trasnscript I had requested since the one I had sent out was probably sent out wrong. But today was the day I was going to make it all right again. I parked the car on Walnut, walked over to the bus stop, took BART out to Berkeley and dropped it off. I'm a free man now. I go back, and back home, I get the car and I drive by a friend's place, call him, etc. Next thing you know, I'm driving out to park street to get lunch with some old High School buddies. But parking. There's the problem. I rummaged through the pocket in my wallet. About 73 cents in change. Thats enough to get an hour. But I find parking on Santa Clara and as I pull in, the meter man is walking by, collecting all the change and I'm standing on the sidewalk and I'm fidgeting for change. I lay out the two quarters and the few nickels and pennies on the sidewalk and count out how much I need. He comes up to me and goes, "Son, let me help you out." He opens the thing, collects the change, and with a quarter, he drops it in, takes it out, and again and again until there's two hours on the machine. I'm like "Wow! Gee thanks mister." and all he said in return was, "Well, I gotta check the machines and you know, they get itchy about it if it don't work so have a good day fella." I thanked him properly and started to walk towards Park St. A big grin on my face. Its not because I got free parking, its because of the simple gesture this man put foward to me. So even this simple gesture could make anyone's day, and for me, it most certainly did. The sky cleared up, my friends appeared, the whole world just seemed to smile towards you all of a sudden.
Anyone ever remember that one VW commercial where the guy is struggling with change, and a girl pops in a quarter for him cause he drives a bug and he walks off, big smile, opens the door for an old lady, she's now smiling, it just goes on and on. The whole world just seems a better place when we're all willing to help each other out. Sure, but I hope now, that all of you wont run out to take advantage of a meter collector. So I've got this to say. Be happy, make someone happy. The world smiles with you.
Anyone ever remember that one VW commercial where the guy is struggling with change, and a girl pops in a quarter for him cause he drives a bug and he walks off, big smile, opens the door for an old lady, she's now smiling, it just goes on and on. The whole world just seems a better place when we're all willing to help each other out. Sure, but I hope now, that all of you wont run out to take advantage of a meter collector. So I've got this to say. Be happy, make someone happy. The world smiles with you.
August 07, 2007
An Atrocity: Private ownership of land.
I've recently come back from a trip down to Monterey and I was disgusted at one point on the trip. Driving down the 17 mile drive there was some great places I was tempted to run around on the side of the road. But every so often, Barbed wire poked out from the thick brush. It got my hopes up and down. *sigh*
Then I began to think about explorers and how they treked over this nation and many others and not be stopped mid way by a tin sign that said No Tresspassing and some barbed wire and a bunch of poles. It was at that very moment, I wanted to be an explorer and I felt like tresspassing wherever I damn well felt like it. And I looked back to a book I was and still am to this day reading. "A Pattern Language" in a chapter that identified "The Countryside" it said:
"Parks are dead and artificial. Farms when treated as private property, rob the people of their natural biological heritage - the countryside from which they came" (Christopher Alexander, A Pattern Language, Center For Envirnomental Structure, Berkeley, CA, 1977)
I know i'm no countryman, but my ancestors were. I know there is not one person in this world, who cannot trace their heritage back, back, back and back to a farmer or a countryman. Even royalty I suppose. But the book really has me thinking, since I'm an architecture major at Berkeley, and I began to wonder. What can we as Americans, do to alleviate this problem. The fact that everyone is worried that their land will be used and lived on by squatters is the only reason why everyone pulls out the stakes, electric wires and barbed wires. As the book states. Property is Theft. It robs us all of the land we come from and for all of us, there is no way to enjoy a pasture or a field without hearing a gun cock. What happened to those good old days when grandpa and grandma with their kids would pull over the ol' Chevy Nomad on the side of the country lane, they'd walk out to the edge of a forest or grove, set down the blanket and picnic lunch and the kid's would have fun running around and playing in the grass with maybe a ball or kite. Not anymore. You look at the highway landscape and everything is fenced off, No tresspassing signs nailed to posts and trees. Mankind's ability to produce money has also produced our ability to buy the natural wonders of a nation, fence it off, build a tacky private house by it just to enjoy it constantly and never share with the world. Come on world. If you're so private about your personal life, I get why you'd move to the country. But Thousands of people drive by your house if its on the interstate and more if you're on 17 mile drive. The physical and mental structure of the american family cannot subsist entirely on the Nuclear scheme. Everyone is dependent on each other. Young kids need old people, Parents need children and Old People need everyone. Invariably, you set yourself apart and you become the dysfunctional family that you see on tv sometimes. Like that one from that sexed up town in georgia. Everyone is upper class, all the teens own a nice car and they could spider web a link of who has had sex with who and aparently, all the teens in that town are linked together. Kinda gross no? So there needs to be more social interaction in the family than just Jimmy, Dad and Mom. It has to be Jimmy, Dad, Mom and the world. But you lose the world connection when you isolate yourself and seclude yourself on your Private Property. Oh zeus... this world of ours. Well.. Just america.
Then I began to think about explorers and how they treked over this nation and many others and not be stopped mid way by a tin sign that said No Tresspassing and some barbed wire and a bunch of poles. It was at that very moment, I wanted to be an explorer and I felt like tresspassing wherever I damn well felt like it. And I looked back to a book I was and still am to this day reading. "A Pattern Language" in a chapter that identified "The Countryside" it said:
"Parks are dead and artificial. Farms when treated as private property, rob the people of their natural biological heritage - the countryside from which they came" (Christopher Alexander, A Pattern Language, Center For Envirnomental Structure, Berkeley, CA, 1977)
I know i'm no countryman, but my ancestors were. I know there is not one person in this world, who cannot trace their heritage back, back, back and back to a farmer or a countryman. Even royalty I suppose. But the book really has me thinking, since I'm an architecture major at Berkeley, and I began to wonder. What can we as Americans, do to alleviate this problem. The fact that everyone is worried that their land will be used and lived on by squatters is the only reason why everyone pulls out the stakes, electric wires and barbed wires. As the book states. Property is Theft. It robs us all of the land we come from and for all of us, there is no way to enjoy a pasture or a field without hearing a gun cock. What happened to those good old days when grandpa and grandma with their kids would pull over the ol' Chevy Nomad on the side of the country lane, they'd walk out to the edge of a forest or grove, set down the blanket and picnic lunch and the kid's would have fun running around and playing in the grass with maybe a ball or kite. Not anymore. You look at the highway landscape and everything is fenced off, No tresspassing signs nailed to posts and trees. Mankind's ability to produce money has also produced our ability to buy the natural wonders of a nation, fence it off, build a tacky private house by it just to enjoy it constantly and never share with the world. Come on world. If you're so private about your personal life, I get why you'd move to the country. But Thousands of people drive by your house if its on the interstate and more if you're on 17 mile drive. The physical and mental structure of the american family cannot subsist entirely on the Nuclear scheme. Everyone is dependent on each other. Young kids need old people, Parents need children and Old People need everyone. Invariably, you set yourself apart and you become the dysfunctional family that you see on tv sometimes. Like that one from that sexed up town in georgia. Everyone is upper class, all the teens own a nice car and they could spider web a link of who has had sex with who and aparently, all the teens in that town are linked together. Kinda gross no? So there needs to be more social interaction in the family than just Jimmy, Dad and Mom. It has to be Jimmy, Dad, Mom and the world. But you lose the world connection when you isolate yourself and seclude yourself on your Private Property. Oh zeus... this world of ours. Well.. Just america.
August 06, 2007
Surviving 10 minutes into the future: Dealing with your kids
Lets take a metaphorical example. Take you and tweaking around time. You have been thrown into the future. OMG! But wait. Some things are different, some aren't. But now you look at your watch. You've been thrown into the future. TEN WHOLE MINUTES!
Today's guide is on how to deal with your children. Firstly, you may go, what's the point in this? It'll come in handy if the situation happens. Anyone ever see "Futurama"? The situation is Fry finds his great grandson, professor Farnsworth, who aparently is around 185 or so. And yet, fry is still around 24 or so.
So we need to learn how to deal with our future children.
1. If in the case you do actually have future kids, avoid using period slang of your 10 minutes ago. So lets take the metaphorical situation. Jane has entered a quark. Foosh! 10 minutes ahead into the future. Oh dear god. She's in a new place. The hospital. *pop* here comes the baby. She better not seem like a square to her new son. So avoid 90s talk like, "LETS GET PSYCHED!" Also, avoid giving gifts like: pogs and cases of "SURGE!"
2. If you have a teen, the situation gets a bit worse. You'll be 10 minutes behind, but even 10 minutes ago, you were always at least 20 years behind. So a teen is a gimmie.
3. your adult son: dont bother. They haven't called in the last 10 years.
4. If you somehow meet your grandchild who's older than you somehow in the quark of 10 minutes. The situation is weird. You'd probably have something going on behind your back.
Today's guide is on how to deal with your children. Firstly, you may go, what's the point in this? It'll come in handy if the situation happens. Anyone ever see "Futurama"? The situation is Fry finds his great grandson, professor Farnsworth, who aparently is around 185 or so. And yet, fry is still around 24 or so.
So we need to learn how to deal with our future children.
1. If in the case you do actually have future kids, avoid using period slang of your 10 minutes ago. So lets take the metaphorical situation. Jane has entered a quark. Foosh! 10 minutes ahead into the future. Oh dear god. She's in a new place. The hospital. *pop* here comes the baby. She better not seem like a square to her new son. So avoid 90s talk like, "LETS GET PSYCHED!" Also, avoid giving gifts like: pogs and cases of "SURGE!"
2. If you have a teen, the situation gets a bit worse. You'll be 10 minutes behind, but even 10 minutes ago, you were always at least 20 years behind. So a teen is a gimmie.
3. your adult son: dont bother. They haven't called in the last 10 years.
4. If you somehow meet your grandchild who's older than you somehow in the quark of 10 minutes. The situation is weird. You'd probably have something going on behind your back.
July 29, 2007
I'm not here right now
So this is the first time I've really gotten a chance to use my new laptop for this kinda work. I must say. Its really refreshing and the action on this laptop is much better than the allway down stroke of a normal keyboard. For now, I think i'm set. Hah.
July 28, 2007
i'm racist.
Damn straight. If I wanted to, seriously, I could find a stereotype for every race out there. Dont get me wrong about civil liberties and all, but some things I find annoying. I wont identify them, but I will let you all know I am.
July 27, 2007
Zach's Guide on Surviving 10 minutes into the future: Culture Gap
Lets take a metaphorical example, take you and time and tweak it. You have now been thrown forward, into the future... TEN WHOLE MINUTES.
Good evening readers here from sunny, West coast San Francisco. I dont live there, but I live somewhere near. But anyhow, lets get started on our whole situation. What are you going to do to survive? How will you manage? But today, we focus on the Culture gap of your pre10 minute agoistic culture and the culture of the 10 minutes ahead culture.
Number one: If anyone should ask you if you've heard the new: Djoe or Eaked Album, do what you used to do ten minutes in the past whenever someone mentioned a band you've never heard of. Lie the shit out of your pants. No need to actually know the songs themselves either. Just nod and go: Oh yeah! a lot. You're catching on quickly!
Example: In the 10 minute past:
Bob: Hey man, have you heard the new Radiohead album?
Sara: Um... (contemplates... Who is Radiohead?) Of course. It's totally awesome.
Bob: Good
*time quirk*
Futurebob: Hey man, have you heard the new MxPx album?
Sara: Um... (contemplates... Who is MxPx?) Of course. It's totally awesome.
Futurebob: Boop boop.
Number 2: When anyone asks you to sing along, just BS it. It dont matter if you know the words for sure. Just do what you used to in the past. Mouthing! It makes you look cool, and yet, all you're doing is behaving like a fish! Applies to past songs, future songs and foreign songs.
Example: In the 10 minute past
Bob: Hey Sara, c'mon. Sing "Indigo Tapes" with me!
Sara: *mouths along*
Bob: And I dont know how you got the tape stuck in there! Oooh yeah!
*time quirk*
Futurebob: Hey Sara, c'mon. Sing "Indigenous Tapes" with me!
Sara: *mouths along*
Bob: And I dont know how the abo got into the VCR! Oooh yeah!
*abduction into foreign country*
Roberto: Muey Muey sneiohah, Quong "Indyhgk Tapuu" con mah!
Sara: *mouths along*
Roberto: dugga Dugga dugga! Hoom vah leek do tah!
So maybe that last one wont work so well, but anything is always worth a shot.
Number three: So you've missed the last ten minutes in television. Big deal you think. Of course its a big deal. Look at your watch. What time did you skip? First part of the hour or half hour? You got off lucky. The end of the first half hour or the end of the hour? You're screwed! How will you know what happens on reality TV shows or game shows or your soaps?! Hopefully, if you were smart, you'd tape every single episode on television, stack and correlate the tapes and watch them if you ever experience a time jump. You may look like a crazy person whose home is filled with a million VCR cassette tapes, but at least you'll know who got kicked off the island while you were gone.
Number four: If you were in a club at the time. Lucky you. You've just skipped past 10 minutes of annoying thumping sounds that passes for music in bars. But maybe while you were gone, they started playing a song that was interactive. Like the macarena or the YMCA. Whatever it is 10 minutes into the future and you find yourself in the middle of, get the heck out. Dont be a fool and stand and try to do what everyone else is doing. You'll never make it.
So with that in mind, happy futures means you did something bad in the past! I'm your blogger, Z
Good evening readers here from sunny, West coast San Francisco. I dont live there, but I live somewhere near. But anyhow, lets get started on our whole situation. What are you going to do to survive? How will you manage? But today, we focus on the Culture gap of your pre10 minute agoistic culture and the culture of the 10 minutes ahead culture.
Number one: If anyone should ask you if you've heard the new: Djoe or Eaked Album, do what you used to do ten minutes in the past whenever someone mentioned a band you've never heard of. Lie the shit out of your pants. No need to actually know the songs themselves either. Just nod and go: Oh yeah! a lot. You're catching on quickly!
Example: In the 10 minute past:
Bob: Hey man, have you heard the new Radiohead album?
Sara: Um... (contemplates... Who is Radiohead?) Of course. It's totally awesome.
Bob: Good
*time quirk*
Futurebob: Hey man, have you heard the new MxPx album?
Sara: Um... (contemplates... Who is MxPx?) Of course. It's totally awesome.
Futurebob: Boop boop.
Number 2: When anyone asks you to sing along, just BS it. It dont matter if you know the words for sure. Just do what you used to in the past. Mouthing! It makes you look cool, and yet, all you're doing is behaving like a fish! Applies to past songs, future songs and foreign songs.
Example: In the 10 minute past
Bob: Hey Sara, c'mon. Sing "Indigo Tapes" with me!
Sara: *mouths along*
Bob: And I dont know how you got the tape stuck in there! Oooh yeah!
*time quirk*
Futurebob: Hey Sara, c'mon. Sing "Indigenous Tapes" with me!
Sara: *mouths along*
Bob: And I dont know how the abo got into the VCR! Oooh yeah!
*abduction into foreign country*
Roberto: Muey Muey sneiohah, Quong "Indyhgk Tapuu" con mah!
Sara: *mouths along*
Roberto: dugga Dugga dugga! Hoom vah leek do tah!
So maybe that last one wont work so well, but anything is always worth a shot.
Number three: So you've missed the last ten minutes in television. Big deal you think. Of course its a big deal. Look at your watch. What time did you skip? First part of the hour or half hour? You got off lucky. The end of the first half hour or the end of the hour? You're screwed! How will you know what happens on reality TV shows or game shows or your soaps?! Hopefully, if you were smart, you'd tape every single episode on television, stack and correlate the tapes and watch them if you ever experience a time jump. You may look like a crazy person whose home is filled with a million VCR cassette tapes, but at least you'll know who got kicked off the island while you were gone.
Number four: If you were in a club at the time. Lucky you. You've just skipped past 10 minutes of annoying thumping sounds that passes for music in bars. But maybe while you were gone, they started playing a song that was interactive. Like the macarena or the YMCA. Whatever it is 10 minutes into the future and you find yourself in the middle of, get the heck out. Dont be a fool and stand and try to do what everyone else is doing. You'll never make it.
So with that in mind, happy futures means you did something bad in the past! I'm your blogger, Z
July 24, 2007
July 23, 2007
Hat Feather
I'm an avid wearer of hats. I have a fairly large collection for a kid my age. Thug kids with a billion of those New era hats can forget about it for a moment. I dont bother with trivial stuff. Its like the same hat but in different color.
But I. My collection is a work of art. Of which, baseball caps are a minority. That's right. I dont wear that. But today, I bought a fedora, up at my usual shop in Berkeley when I decided to get a hat feather and I picked one out. I assumed it cost a dollar or so, so yeah. No biggie. But now, I have a mondo cool fedora, a straw panama, some other hats, and my *cough* baseball caps.
Driving home today, I guess the feather either fell out, or flew out the window. I noticed it was gone after I dropped a friend off. How annoying. Something you travelled 15 miles to get, now its gone missing. Greeeat. At least I have school there.
But I. My collection is a work of art. Of which, baseball caps are a minority. That's right. I dont wear that. But today, I bought a fedora, up at my usual shop in Berkeley when I decided to get a hat feather and I picked one out. I assumed it cost a dollar or so, so yeah. No biggie. But now, I have a mondo cool fedora, a straw panama, some other hats, and my *cough* baseball caps.
Driving home today, I guess the feather either fell out, or flew out the window. I noticed it was gone after I dropped a friend off. How annoying. Something you travelled 15 miles to get, now its gone missing. Greeeat. At least I have school there.
July 22, 2007
Quotes
You know how people quote each other and famous people. It got me thinking. Will people ever quote me?
I know for a fact that my friend Erik has quoted my famous bubble gum quote. But that's the tip of the iceberg. I want people to quote me for years to come.
On bubble gum:
Man has suffered in-numerously, he has battled against diseases, eradicated some, taken on the fiercest animals of dark Africa. We have conquered space and the deepest reaches of the earth and yet, the one thing mankind cannot fight against is the indefatigable, little piece of gum on the bottom of our shoes.
On maturity
The day i'm letting any of you tell me to set an example for little children is the day people stop calling me the "future" of america.
On Bush
He has captured the hearts of americans, broke them, sent some to their deaths, taken our jobs and yet some how, he's still here.
On Cellphones and technology
The cellphone no more has linked together mankind than has it locked themselves against each other. We call ourselves open. We can communicate wherever we want, whenever we want. But only with whoever we want. In this age of communication and technology, we have surrounded ourselves in our fortifications of cables and motherboards and refused to see the light of day. No longer is an interaction between people a meeting, but a mere text message or an instant message.
On myspace
It says very distinctively up there. A place for friends. Now don't get me wrong, its users aparently those who wish to keep personal identity as private information. Refuse to make friends with people who randomly show up. Oh what a total crock. The purpose defeated within a few years.
On stanfurd
You suck
On "that" situation
You know, when I dont need it, I always find an abundance of them. Now the moment is prime, the project is ready to go. And not a single one of the things I need is nowhere to be found
On inspration
Can a quote really inspire someone that much? Or are quotes the spawn of other quotes?
On packaging and cleanliness
Mankind has curbed diseases. But also has ushered in the era of waste. We waste innumerous amounts of plastics on individual cook wrappers and such. Does it really have to be necessary to use a new paper towel or swiffer cloth for every time you make a mess on the counter. Surely the fact that your countertop is cleaner than a hospital doesn't mean that it produces as much waste as one. There must be a better solution
On thermoses
What's that? Hm? Some sort of space age vacuum sealed food container no doubt eh?! Is it?! Oh it is.
On Vonnegut
Sure i'll take a flying fuck at the moon!
I know for a fact that my friend Erik has quoted my famous bubble gum quote. But that's the tip of the iceberg. I want people to quote me for years to come.
On bubble gum:
Man has suffered in-numerously, he has battled against diseases, eradicated some, taken on the fiercest animals of dark Africa. We have conquered space and the deepest reaches of the earth and yet, the one thing mankind cannot fight against is the indefatigable, little piece of gum on the bottom of our shoes.
On maturity
The day i'm letting any of you tell me to set an example for little children is the day people stop calling me the "future" of america.
On Bush
He has captured the hearts of americans, broke them, sent some to their deaths, taken our jobs and yet some how, he's still here.
On Cellphones and technology
The cellphone no more has linked together mankind than has it locked themselves against each other. We call ourselves open. We can communicate wherever we want, whenever we want. But only with whoever we want. In this age of communication and technology, we have surrounded ourselves in our fortifications of cables and motherboards and refused to see the light of day. No longer is an interaction between people a meeting, but a mere text message or an instant message.
On myspace
It says very distinctively up there. A place for friends. Now don't get me wrong, its users aparently those who wish to keep personal identity as private information. Refuse to make friends with people who randomly show up. Oh what a total crock. The purpose defeated within a few years.
On stanfurd
You suck
On "that" situation
You know, when I dont need it, I always find an abundance of them. Now the moment is prime, the project is ready to go. And not a single one of the things I need is nowhere to be found
On inspration
Can a quote really inspire someone that much? Or are quotes the spawn of other quotes?
On packaging and cleanliness
Mankind has curbed diseases. But also has ushered in the era of waste. We waste innumerous amounts of plastics on individual cook wrappers and such. Does it really have to be necessary to use a new paper towel or swiffer cloth for every time you make a mess on the counter. Surely the fact that your countertop is cleaner than a hospital doesn't mean that it produces as much waste as one. There must be a better solution
On thermoses
What's that? Hm? Some sort of space age vacuum sealed food container no doubt eh?! Is it?! Oh it is.
On Vonnegut
Sure i'll take a flying fuck at the moon!
July 16, 2007
My brother cost me a job
GRAAAAAHHHH!!!
Just to satisfy his "internet" need, he took the internet from me, right in the middle of a job application. Now I cant apply for work there for another thirty days. It would have been the sweetest job in the world too. If it wasn't for him.
Just to satisfy his "internet" need, he took the internet from me, right in the middle of a job application. Now I cant apply for work there for another thirty days. It would have been the sweetest job in the world too. If it wasn't for him.
I'm a man who doesn't own one of everything.
Damn straight. I'm the kind of guy who owns multiples of the things in questions. Just look at my room. I'll have two computers soon too. But I have two mice on my desk, two speakers, two chairs, two desks, 4 slide rulers, a billion rulers, 6 stringed instruments, a butt load of ethnic instruments, three clarinets, two pianos, two printers, three pieces of stereo equipment, three lamps, two windows, two rugs, two trash cans, 5 model boats in here. Its certainly alot. But yeah.
There's really no point to this. I just felt like it.
There's really no point to this. I just felt like it.
July 15, 2007
Page 23
Its kidna old on the blogosphere, but i'll do it.
1. Open the book you are currently reading.
2. Turn to page 23.
3. Type the 5th sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
at the moment, i'm reading "A Pattern Language" by Christopher Alexander, Sara Ishikawa, Murray Silverstein, Max Jacobson, Ingrid Fiksdahl-King and Shlomo Angel
"Physically and genetically, we appear best adapted to a tropical savanna, but as a cultural animal we utilize learned adaptations to cities and towns."
kinda boring.
1. Open the book you are currently reading.
2. Turn to page 23.
3. Type the 5th sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
at the moment, i'm reading "A Pattern Language" by Christopher Alexander, Sara Ishikawa, Murray Silverstein, Max Jacobson, Ingrid Fiksdahl-King and Shlomo Angel
"Physically and genetically, we appear best adapted to a tropical savanna, but as a cultural animal we utilize learned adaptations to cities and towns."
kinda boring.
July 13, 2007
Grin!
Heh, 2007 is a big year for all Cal Football fans. This year will mark the twenty fifth anniversary of
Dah dah dah daaaa!
"THE PLAY!"
I'm excited. A great time to be join Cal Band for sure!
Dah dah dah daaaa!
"THE PLAY!"
I'm excited. A great time to be join Cal Band for sure!
Give us the right to speak! As long as its only us!
You think we've come so far in so few years do you? Well, in some ways, we have. But in very touchy situations, we're dumber than the cavemen themselves. No offense to you cavemen out there on computers. But recently, the US Senate...
well. I wont quite tell you yet, but i'll give a bit of info first. So in the Senate chambers, usually things start off with a prayer or something like that. Its usually done by the Christian Chaplin of Congress but on several occasions, it will go out to different creeds to start off. But in this unfortunate circumstance, a guest Hindu priest came in to say opening prayers before the senate when all of a sudden, he was shouted down by several witnesses.
Three were arrested. The first one had said: "Lord Jesus, Forgive us father, for allowing a prayer which is an abomination in your sight." "You are the one, true living God"
Thanfully, they were arrested. Christian nuts apparently. You see these people in protest videos. They call themselves the tolerant ones and accuse the police who grab them as the idiots and the unknowing. But really, we can see whats going on. I might have mentioned this earlier but alot of groups have campaigned for their voices. Especially the democratic party you know. I mentioned the BART ad for pro life in an earlier post. I would find it, but I cant. Hah. But the idea is you fight for your own voice, but you make sure no one else can speak their voice. I highly doubt you'll find blacks and KKK members protesting against a hindu prayer together. Our mind set. Is to satisfy ourselves and some of us have decided to take it into our own hands to pound the right ideas in their opinion, into our heads. I'm all for a Hindu, catholic, jewish, muslim, satanic opening prayer at Congress, but when one voice claws for more and thinks they're the best and only way. I cant tolerate that.
I can just imagine these three people. A middle aged man with big glasses, hands folded together, eyes closed and just shouting out those words in the senate chambers. "ABOMINATION!" I dont get how people were ever taught this way. To defend your ideals, but make sure that no one else can speak and that they learn that that is the way and the only way.
video of the incident: http://www.breitbart.tv/html/2957.html
article: http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=070712205448.8n6ee52e&show_article=1&image=large
well. I wont quite tell you yet, but i'll give a bit of info first. So in the Senate chambers, usually things start off with a prayer or something like that. Its usually done by the Christian Chaplin of Congress but on several occasions, it will go out to different creeds to start off. But in this unfortunate circumstance, a guest Hindu priest came in to say opening prayers before the senate when all of a sudden, he was shouted down by several witnesses.
Three were arrested. The first one had said: "Lord Jesus, Forgive us father, for allowing a prayer which is an abomination in your sight." "You are the one, true living God"
Thanfully, they were arrested. Christian nuts apparently. You see these people in protest videos. They call themselves the tolerant ones and accuse the police who grab them as the idiots and the unknowing. But really, we can see whats going on. I might have mentioned this earlier but alot of groups have campaigned for their voices. Especially the democratic party you know. I mentioned the BART ad for pro life in an earlier post. I would find it, but I cant. Hah. But the idea is you fight for your own voice, but you make sure no one else can speak their voice. I highly doubt you'll find blacks and KKK members protesting against a hindu prayer together. Our mind set. Is to satisfy ourselves and some of us have decided to take it into our own hands to pound the right ideas in their opinion, into our heads. I'm all for a Hindu, catholic, jewish, muslim, satanic opening prayer at Congress, but when one voice claws for more and thinks they're the best and only way. I cant tolerate that.
I can just imagine these three people. A middle aged man with big glasses, hands folded together, eyes closed and just shouting out those words in the senate chambers. "ABOMINATION!" I dont get how people were ever taught this way. To defend your ideals, but make sure that no one else can speak and that they learn that that is the way and the only way.
video of the incident: http://www.breitbart.tv/html/2957.html
article: http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=070712205448.8n6ee52e&show_article=1&image=large
July 12, 2007
So bored, I'm doing a survey on Harry Potter
Harry Potter Survey :D
GRYFFINDOR:
[ ] You've never done drugs.
[x] You have a lot of friends.
[x] You get along with everyone.
[ ] You love soccer.
[ ] You love baseball.
[x] You're into writing and art
[ ] Favorite music genre is rock.
[x] You believe in "innocent until proven guilty" theory.
[x] One of your favorite colors is red or gold.
[x] You have good grades at school.
[ ] One of the worst things you are at is lying
[x] You plan on going to college.
TOTAL: 7...
HUFFLEPUFF:
[x] You're content with mostly everything in your life right now.
[ ] You laugh a lot.
[ ] You like to follow trends.
[ ] Politics suck.
[x] You love to swim
[x] Water "marco polo" is awesome.
[ ] Pink is one of your favorite colors.
[ ] Black is morbid & depressing.
[NO!] Michael Jackson is talented as a musical artist.
[ ] You're an optimist.
[ ] You're emotional.
[ ] You believe in going steady at a young age.
[ ] You haven't made fun of anyone this month.
[x] Loyalty is the MOST important thing in a relationship.
TOTAL: 3
RAVENCLAW:
[ ] You're depressed to a certain extent.
[x] You love to read.
[x] You appreciate theatre & arts.
[] Sports suck.
[ ] Hate is completely unneeded.
[x] Indie is your favorite genre of music.
[x] Every once in a while you have little anger outbursts.
[x] Lying is sometimes okay.
[x] Blue is one of your favorite colors.
[x] Knowledge is the key to power
[ ] Sarcasm is the best kind of humor
[x] People should know what they're talking about before they talk.
TOTAL: 8
SLYTHERIN:
[x] There's at least one person you hate/dislike
[ ] Basketball is a good sport.
[x] Football is amazing.
[ ] Black is a cool color.
[x] You've lied about something serious
[] You're a very deep person.
[x] You have considered suicide.
[ ] You are not very loyal.
[x] You like heavy metal.
[ ] They make school seem more important than it is.
[x] You're scared/nervous to grow up.
[] Anger is one of your primary feelings. <--- i'd say that's a gryfindor trait haha. and no i cant spell
[ ] you have trust issues.
[ ] Guilty until proven innocent.
-----slytherin's arent emo suicidal goth freaks. wtf.
TOTAL: 6
GRYFFINDOR:
[ ] You've never done drugs.
[x] You have a lot of friends.
[x] You get along with everyone.
[ ] You love soccer.
[ ] You love baseball.
[x] You're into writing and art
[ ] Favorite music genre is rock.
[x] You believe in "innocent until proven guilty" theory.
[x] One of your favorite colors is red or gold.
[x] You have good grades at school.
[ ] One of the worst things you are at is lying
[x] You plan on going to college.
TOTAL: 7...
HUFFLEPUFF:
[x] You're content with mostly everything in your life right now.
[ ] You laugh a lot.
[ ] You like to follow trends.
[ ] Politics suck.
[x] You love to swim
[x] Water "marco polo" is awesome.
[ ] Pink is one of your favorite colors.
[ ] Black is morbid & depressing.
[NO!] Michael Jackson is talented as a musical artist.
[ ] You're an optimist.
[ ] You're emotional.
[ ] You believe in going steady at a young age.
[ ] You haven't made fun of anyone this month.
[x] Loyalty is the MOST important thing in a relationship.
TOTAL: 3
RAVENCLAW:
[ ] You're depressed to a certain extent.
[x] You love to read.
[x] You appreciate theatre & arts.
[] Sports suck.
[ ] Hate is completely unneeded.
[x] Indie is your favorite genre of music.
[x] Every once in a while you have little anger outbursts.
[x] Lying is sometimes okay.
[x] Blue is one of your favorite colors.
[x] Knowledge is the key to power
[ ] Sarcasm is the best kind of humor
[x] People should know what they're talking about before they talk.
TOTAL: 8
SLYTHERIN:
[x] There's at least one person you hate/dislike
[ ] Basketball is a good sport.
[x] Football is amazing.
[ ] Black is a cool color.
[x] You've lied about something serious
[] You're a very deep person.
[x] You have considered suicide.
[ ] You are not very loyal.
[x] You like heavy metal.
[ ] They make school seem more important than it is.
[x] You're scared/nervous to grow up.
[] Anger is one of your primary feelings. <--- i'd say that's a gryfindor trait haha. and no i cant spell
[ ] you have trust issues.
[ ] Guilty until proven innocent.
-----slytherin's arent emo suicidal goth freaks. wtf.
TOTAL: 6
Stolen from New North. Heck, what isn't?
The prerequisite to understanding this letter is to have encountered some of Mr. Zachary C Wong's pleas and to have realized how refractory they are. What follows is the story of how Zachary can be so rich in the rhetoric of democracy and yet so poor in its implementation. I do not wish to evaluate alcoholism here, though I assert that Zachary would have us believe that university professors must conform their theses and conclusions to his contemptible, fork-tongued prejudices if they want to publish papers and advance their careers. That, of course, is nonsense, total nonsense. But Zachary is surrounded by brown-nosing schmoes who parrot the same nonsense, which is why if his subalterns had even an ounce of integrity, they would fight for our freedom of speech. He claims to be supportive of my plan to drive off and disperse the nettlesome dissemblers who create a system of jingoism characterized by confidential files, closed courts, gag orders, and statutory immunity. Don't trust him, though; he's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Before you know it, he'll force square pegs into round holes. Not only that, but Zachary's favorite tactic is known as "deceiving with the truth". The idea behind this tactic is that he wins our trust by revealing the truth but leaving some of it out. This makes us less likely to inculcate in the reader an inquisitive spirit and a skepticism about beliefs that Zachary's deputies take for granted.
Zachary talks a lot about antagonism and how wonderful it is. However, he's never actually defined what it means. How can he argue for something he's never defined? My answer is, as always, a model of clarity and the soul of wit: I don't know. However, I do know that he has OD'd on isolationism. Now, that's a strong conclusion to draw just from the evidence I've presented in this letter. So let me corroborate it by saying that an armed revolt against Zachary is morally justified. However, I insist that it is not yet strategically justified. Sadly, in once sense, Zachary is correct. If we let him work both sides of the political fence, then I will obviously be forced to have a conniption. His occasional demonstrations of benevolence are not genuine. Nor are Zachary's promises. In fact, I appreciate feedback and other people's views on subjects. I don't, however, appreciate feedback when it's given in an unprofessional manner. Zachary claims that the rules don't apply to him. I, however, claim that that's a load of crud. Yes, I hate him to my very bone marrow, but according to him, clever one-liners are a valid substitute for actual thinking. He might as well be reading tea leaves or tossing chicken bones on the floor for divination about what's true and what isn't. Maybe then Zachary would realize that an unholy alliance of combative rabble-rousers and flippant, besotted quiddlers has been instrumental in devising increasingly repressive ways to turn the social order upside-down so that the dregs on the bottom become the scum on the top. Let's remember that.
The acid test for Zachary's "kinder, gentler" new initiatives should be, "Do they still wage an odd sort of warfare upon a largely unprepared and unrecognizing public?" If the answer is yes, then we can conclude that Zachary claims that we should abandon the institutionalized and revered concept of democracy. That claim is preposterous and, to use Zachary's own language, overtly prissy. No history can justify it. Here's the heart of the matter: He doesn't use words for communication or for exchanging information. He uses them to disarm, to hypnotize, to mislead, and to deceive. Are you still with me? To put it another way, I don't believe that we should avoid personal responsibility. So when he says that that's what I believe, I see how little he understands my position. I am not Mr. Zachary C Wong's whipping boy. That is why, come what may, we must challenge the present and enrich the future.
La complaint generator. Rather fun. here
I beat the neighbor's Dog!
That sentence could be taken several ways. I could have hit it, or I could have beat it in competition. In this case, its the latter. Whilst cleaning my room today, the neighbor's little pug was let out. It just started barking and yapping. It stopped for awhile but obviously, I had to provoke something :D of course. I moved over towards my bed by the windows and proceeded to start dusting things. I keep little models and stuff on there. But it was when I was dusting the picture of Dag Hammerskjold did I really want to tempt the silly. I barked at it. Really. I did. Then it started yipping again and then, the neighbor lady opened the door and yelled at it. "Get back in here. Honestly, you make too much noise."
That is my story of triumph for today
That is my story of triumph for today
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