Gimme a WEEK

Yeah, so it's been a solid week since my last post, but it seems like about three years with a battery opperated egg beater whirring in my stomach. Loads of fine Holiday fun for the whole family. It has been a buisy week and I only have about six more minutes to update all of you on its happenings.

I visited an elementary school for my teacher, school, and society class and was unbelievably disappointed. The teacher was retiree who was called back from her twilight year blitz to act as a permanant substitute for an eight grade class. She was racist, apathetic, and has convinced me that children from NC will always suck, but it is not their fault. I get to write a paper about this experience after I get off of work tonight.

I obtained extra employment as a bicyle taxi driver and I start this weekend. Two jobs, oh boy! What married full time college student does not want two jobs? So if you are in the downtown Wilmington area and you see a sweaty guy on a bike hauling half of a VW beetle behind him, hop in and tip him well.

I was forced to choose a major yeaterday. I was not sure how I wanted to spend the rest of my working life, so my advisor got really annoyed with me. I mean, how dare I be indecisive about that? So I am an "English for Professional Writing" major now. I think I'll stick with that one for a while and not take any more education courses. The public school system can eat the leftovers the dog won't. I am running one minute late, oh, two minutes. I will not proofread this post because I have got to go.

Thought: If your vehicle was fueled by vegetable oil, would you be tempted to deep fry with gasoline?

I've failed to conquer GW

I just returned (36 hours ago) from a weekend in the mountains visiting a couple of old friends. I had three goals for the weekend, which can be viewed in my previous post. I failed to complete my goals. I only ate at one Taco Bell, in Boiling Springs, NC. It was a terrible Taco Bell and My grilled stuffed was lukewarm and soggy. I did convince someone that I am Irish, actually I imagine a few people in the room picked up on that. I thought this would be the most difficult of the three goals, but it was the only one I completed. I did not get anybody's phone number. All of the girls I wanted to ask either knew I was married or were with their boyfriends. The Weekend was not a total disappointment, though. I wrote a 1 page train of thought story of which I was immensely proud and captured a few awesome photos around the Gardner Webb campus. I took advantage of my friend's discount at Outback and ate a 9 oz. Fillet Mingnon and a lobster tail for $15.

One of the most poignant experience of this weekend took place in Outback. A witress there who is friends with my buddy came and sat in our booth to talk to us. We were carrying on a normal conversation until I mentioned that I was married. Her attitude changes completely and she was gone within thirty seconds. What's up with that? Was she just there to try to hook up with me? Is it offensive to mention that you are married? She irked me like you wouldn't believe.

I met a few interesting people, but only interesting enough for me to say that.

There exists a coffee shop, The Broad River Coffee Co., which would make being a student at GW worth the $6 million a semester tuition. They buy the beans directly from farms all overthe world and roast them in the store. This is excellent, because coffe is best within a week of being roasted and thirty minutes of being ground. If you are ever in the Shelbly, Gaffney area and have any self respect at all, you will drink this coffee. Also, anybody planning on coming to Wilmington in the next few days *couJacobgh* would find it in their best interest to bring with them a half pound of Sumatran Mandheling.

When I was a child, I thought catching a frisbee was an impossible task. I think this may have been because my older sister, with whom I usually played, could not throw a bullet out of a gun straight. I, very satisfyingly, threw a frisbee with my old chum this weekend and was caused to wonder, Why isn't everybody throwing a frisbee all of the time? It is fun in it's utter simplicity. And companies give out free frisbees all of the time. It's friggin' free!

I saw a headstone for a person nemed Minnesota Trout. I wonder if they killed themself because of the name.

Now, I am done. And you wish I would continue, but I will not. Is it wirth it to own a river?

Garbushi

I'm heading out of town today. I'm gonna go visit a good friend of mine and engage him in mortal combat. I am Garbushi and he is Fried Rice. We will then arm ourselves to the gills with plastic balls of paint and reign terror on an unsespecting private university. The point is, one of us is going to die before the weekend is out. I have three goals this weekend: to obtain a strange girl's phone number and never call her again, eat at three different Taco Bells in three different towns, and to convince some person that I am Irish. It will be a blast.

I tried to go to my PED class today, which I have missed for the past three weeks because of my broken hand. I say I tried because I put on my goofy gym shorts and craptacular Nikes and hiked to Trask, only to find out that class was cancelled. Try that for a little dose of the irony.

This will be a short post. I have nothing interesting to say yet, because nothing interesting has happened. I will post on Monday when I return from the mountains, hopefully with lots of interesting and intreguing (sp?) thing to talk about.

Until Monday, flip this around in your head: Would the simple fact that you could put all sorts of things on them make living 20' from train tracks worth it?

Promised Poem

I had to write this peom for my creative writing class. The assignment was a word association game where we were asked to write the first thing that came to mind with the mention of: A fear, a foreign word, a piece of furniature, a weather condition, a relative, a color, a city you've never been to, and an insect. I thought it came out pretty good, considering that I suck worse at poetry that I do at bloggin' So here goes.

That's Entertainment

Don’t say a word to me about fairness,
‘cause I’ll never get to go to Paris.
While you and your overweight daughter
throw money around like balloons full of water.

Overweight is an understatement.

Over? Wait. I’ve go more I gotta say,
my lifelong cold snap ends today.
Like a cicada after 18 years,
it’s time to get through this dirt mound of fears.

You are a phalliphobic Freudian.

Lucky for me you don’t know what either of those mean.
So you can’t possibly read what’s written between.
You tried to learn French but you don’t know écrire
and despite what you said you haven’t written in a year.

Pinch your cheeks, you look pale.

I think the reason you look so white
is that you did not expect this fight.
So call on God to help you then
and I’ll sing *A-hem* a hymn for Him.

I stole your entertainment center.
It’s on public display in town.
Write me and I’ll give you the address.

There you go suckas.

As a follow up to a few comments left on a few of my other posts, I do not know how to make that link. Yes I am coming up Friday night. My hand smelled like vinnegar and caramelized sugar mixed in a respective 1:4 ratio inside a rotten pommegranate. The smell has not yet fully subsided. Now it smells like a weaker version of before, mixed with sandalwood soap and my shampoo.

I wrote 16 Haiku today. I was immensly proud of about five of them. I realized later that nobody else will probably ever read them. After about a week, I will probably forget I even wrote them. Knowing this, I am forced to wonder what else I may have written and forgot about. And not just me, what if Charles Dickens wrote something on a piece of scrap paper one day, a little anecdote or poem or something, but forgot about it? I would want to read that. So I am going to make an effort to keep everything I write in order to avoid depriving myself of some nostalgia a few years down the line.

On my self deprivation experience experiment, I have decided on my next project. Starting 20 October 2005, I am going to go two weeks without food. I will resume eating on 3 November. The purpose of the experiment is for me to discover what it is like to eat after not having done so for two weeks. I am not going on a hunger strike or fasting in a religious manner. Just a guy not eating for a long enough period of time to, with any luck, forget what it is like to eat, then eating. Wish me luck! Do what I said because I said it.

I leave you now with this to ponder. When writing, why do we capitalize I but not you, they, him, it, or them?

Rien (that's French for nothing)

The circus may never return to Wilmington. I know it probably will, but I get myself going in the morning by reassuring myself that there is a possiblility that it will not. I met a clown named Jacob last weekend and ironically enough, I killed him. I don't know why I am posting today, but maybe one of you does. Enlighten me, fools!

It has not rained all day, yet I carried an umbrella with me. This weekend, when God let His bathtub overflow and I had a cast on my hand, I did not even touch my umbrella. I hate that word. Umbrella. Do not say it to me again. Somebody bring something interesting to Wilmington.

My power was out when I woke up this morning so I ended up showering in the dark. Because of this, I can never be sure what color the water was coming out of the shower head. Or if there was anybody in there with me. All I know is that I could not see the toothpaste and I put way too much on the brush and since it was dark I forgaot that I was not supposed to swallow it and now my inside parts will not stop burning. In some cities it is illegal to not have lights in the stairwell. I now understand why, and so do Muhammad (my dog), and my recently
un-broken-ed hand. It's a word because I say it is. I can do nothing. Tomorrow, you can look forward to a poem involving Paris, phalliphobia, the color white, and an entertainment center.

How's that make you feel? I must ask.

Appreciation

So I just removed the cast from my right hand. I was supposed to go have it removed five days after I actually took it off. It smelled awful and the cotton was fused with my skin at parts. I can't make a complete fist right now and it is possible that I never will again. I also can't straighten out my ring finger actively, I have to use my other hand to do it. I also have a sizeable interruption in the straightness of my fourth metacarpul. I don't know if I spelled that right. If you know the proper spelling, leave a comment please.

I have never appreciaited more the joy of typing with both hands. Having that cast off has given me a new found appreciation for many mundane things. The joy of taking a complete shower, sans garbage bag. The pleasure of writing and seeing my old chicken scratch, which had been altered by the cast. I never would have known these little joys and pleasures had I not broken my hand in the first place. The wonder of having that cast off is worth having had to wear it.

This situation has caused me to think, what else am I missing? I mean, there is a whole world of sensations and pleasures and experiences I may never know becaused I have never been deprived of certain things. What is it like to eat after going hungry for two weeks? Or to speak after a month of silence? And how wonderful would it be to take off a pair of shoes you have been wearing for three months? I may investigate some of these questions further. Sort of like what Morgan Spurlock does, but with the focus being on the experiences right after the return to normalcy rather than the ones concerning the abnormal.

If I haven't given you enough to think about already, think about the most beautiful painting you have ever seen. Find a copy of it, stare at it for an hour, then imagine squiring the artist around with you for one average day. Could you spend the rest of you life with this artist?

Rain

It has refused to stop raining for the past three days. I'm not sure what I refer to when I say it, but it is really rainy. The fact that I have a cast on my hand which I am not supposed to get wet only serves to complicate things. Rain, Baby.

I just posted something for sale on Ebay in an attemp to make an easy $1,700. It is a disposable camera on which I already took all of the pictures. I'm not sure why anybody would buy such a thing, but if they can get $1,700 for an empty cooler, I should be able to for the disposable mystery camera.

Today boys and girls, we are going to talk about racism. I had a conversation yesterday with one of my co-workers about her child's experiences on the school bus. She told me that he got off the bus crying because some older kid said that he didn't like him because he had blonde hair. The mother's first question to her son was this: What color was his skin?

First, where did the kid on the bus learn to hate because of hair color? Who are his parents and what has hair color got to do with anything anyway? It is ridiculus that this child's parents are teaching him things like this. Race prejudices are not something a kid is born with. Instead of recognizing the fault in how this other child is being raised, my co-worker does the exact same thing to her own child. By asking her son what color the child's skin is she is teaching him to look for that first and assume that all people with that color skin will act in a similar manner. She just passes on the racism to him and now there are two more children in the world who will grow up hating a whole other group of people for basically no reason at all. Also, referring to the mother's question, the correct phrasing is What color is his skin? Saying was implies that the offending child is no more. I am going to have a talk with her.

My rant has ended and things are off my chest. Today I leave you with this thought. If a traditonal African tribal mask is created in America by an English person, is it still a traditional African tribal mask?

Now we're bloggin' now

I was sitting in my office, shuffling through very important and impressive papers when I decided that everyone on the internet should be given the opportunity to hear my meaningless thoughts and observations. So, here is my humble blog. Read it, and leprechauns will not steal your frilly underthings.

I really want a motorcycle, but my wife says that I have to pay for the whole thing up front instead of financing it. So if you have any compassion for your fellow man at all, you will donate your resources to assist me in acquiring a motorbike. I'm thinkin a BMW F 650 CS would rock sufficiently. If you happen to have one of these bikes sitting around that you are not using, feel free to send it my way.

Now that we have this incredibly weak first entry out of the way, I am going to leave you with this thought: Why would any person need to carry an entire carton of cigarettes with them?