Weekends

This term, I've lived for the weekends. Saturday I biked 26 miles, yesterday biked for an hour and a half, played an hour of roof ball, and an hour of a full court basketball game. My legs are doing fine, but the pedals on my bike are busted and the front derailer is off.

When I woke up today, I was so hungry it hurt.

On Sunday the mercury hit 80 degrees; I was dying. I'm not going to be able to handle summer.

I haven't been this physically active since track in high school, maybe I'll finally get back into shape one of these days.

I am the worst person I know at crossword puzzles. They should put logic puzzles in the paper; I'd destroy those. I need to get off campus; time for a morning ride.

Adventures in a State Park

It was a casual ride there, only one crash and no wind. The park smelled slightly of dead fish, and the senior class was no where in sight. Using the merry-go-round Max and I performed several angular momentum demonstrations for the peanut gallery. Then a small girl came over, and informed us that she was going to show us how to use the merry-go-round. She grabbed the side and started running, pushing the merry-go-round round and round. "Then you jump on." The merry-go-round slowly came to a stop, and Veronica approached the playground. The small girl looked at Veronica, turned to Max and asked "Does your mom wanna try?"

The wind beat me to death on the ride back. I was peddling twice as hard, but it still took almost an hour to get back. No matter which direction we turned it seemed to slap us in the face. Shortly after dinner, I crashed.

At 10pm I woke up in a daze. Searching for a glass of water I made my way to the kitchen where there was a creepy red light, a sea of nerds (in role not just costume), and strange cheese platters on the counter. From that moment onward my evening was out of whack. The VR was full of alumni, ORC was hanging out on their porch, and my house was full of nerds. All I wanted to do was lie any which way I chose on a king sized bed with a heavy comforter and a remote control. I'd watch some bad TBS movie, fall asleep, and wake up with room service bringing me coffee. That's the ticket.

Paper cuts

This post hurts - figuratively and literally. My paper cut is underneath the nail of my middle finger of my right hand, and every keystroke brings about mild pain in my fingertip. The other reason this post hurts is that I'm in class. Senioristis kills. On Wednesday I was the lamest person I know. I was in class sending facebook messages, then I farted, and to make it worse I was in my comp sci class. On Thursday, I thought that I hit a new low; I received an email from the career center about starting a career with Family Video. I went from a potential mathematics graduate student at a respected program to working every weekend until midnight as a video clerk who doesn't wash his face and tries to convince everyone to check out Monty Python and the Holy Grail along with Firefly. I'm sorry Family Video, but I deleted that email. Other than that things are looking up: WLFM Hip Hop show tonight then High Cliff here I come.

Closure

This morning Andrew was sorting the mail. I'm a big fan of mail. I headed over to the mailboxes to check my mail. Inside my box was a small envelope from University of Utah. Finally the last school I was going to hear back from; with this envelope I would get closure. It was small, my hopes were up, and after opening this rejection letter I thought I would finally be able to move on with my decisions for next year. Nothing would be lurking in the back of my mind as slim possibility taunting me about what I could be doing. I casually opened it up. The first line was the usual mumbo-jumbo: we've reviewed your application. But the second line was different - it was an acceptance letter. Then it gave me a paper cut. I'm not excited. I would have been excited if this came a month ago, but as of now I've moved on. With one small envelope my life and choices were rolled back to December. It seems that once I get excited about next year, an assembly of idea of what might happen, or something seems to happen everything changes in a instant. An envelope with my name on it printed by a computer with a photocopy of signature on it and no word of financial aid has thrown me in the mud and is kicking me in the face like Nelson. The first question is simple: who sends an acceptance letter in a small envelope? The second is why so late? I've made up my mind, and here I am thinking about. I need to make a choice. There's no going back this time - my decision is final - well at least for next year. I complain about being accepted into a top 25 program. I have a great opportunity to try what I want, but I'm complaining somehow out of spite. Am I this spoiled? I have no clue what I am going to decide; I have until May 15th.

Two songs

Sun Shower by Busdriver and Bullet by Rhymefest are two songs I can't get enough of right now. With simple beats and poignant lyrics there isn't much on a explanation why they play on a constant loop. Woodman's didn't have any sugar snap peas. The employee recommended I try the snow peas. She clearly doesn't understand. Snow peas are the scrawny little brother of the more satisfying sugar snap - with a crisp juicy slight sweet taste, sugar snap peas cannot be rivaled. Woodman's please.

Dear Google, please remove your April fools joke from the front page of gmail. We compulsively check our email, we've seen it. We are not living in an age where information travels like molasses. Either make another joke, or just say welcome please sign in. In addition, if you desire to make another joke please consult Will Ferrell. Pearl: "I want my money!" Hip Hop show this Friday. Live interview with Diverse on Can't Stop, Won't Stop this Wednesday, 10pm CST. Tune in, turn it up - wlfm.net

Blaze of Glory

This year senioritis has always loomed in the distance as my impending doom. Each weekend it slowly gained steam as it claimed the lives of more and more seniors, but this week there was a collective wave of senioritis that crashed into main hall green and took everyone in the tide. We've declared and embraced it. We have seven weeks to go out in a blaze of glory. On Friday, I road tripped to Chicago to see RJD2. He open playing with his band; it felt like we were watching George Harrison after the Beatles broke up, but his 35 minute turntable set was glorious. I spent Saturday outside listening to music, jumping on a trampoline, and teaching some math. Sunday after brunch, senioritis hit me personally. I didn't make it home on the short walk back from downer, rather I laid in the sun until 2:30 only to return to the sweet siren call of roofball coming through my window. It was at that moment, when I realized that the day was over. Right now, a cool breeze is coming through my window and hitting my face and covering my sun burned nose. I have a midterm tomorrow, that will be interesting. Here's to the quickest four years of my life.

No, you turn off your TV.

We are on the verge of the one week of the year, where we ban together in order to purge ourselves of TV. Turn off you TV week starts next week, but I need more clarification. If this was 1995, turn off you TV week would mean exactly that: turn your TV off for a week; however, does youTube count as TV? Do DVD's count as TV. Do movies that I download count as TV. Whoever is in charge of this event please let me know. I'm very excited for this week. The increased silence in the mornings, or the increased conversation during the dinner time. For one week, social interactions will be forced, but stories will be told. I can't wait.

Coat, Keys, and Peas

Yesterday evening, my long shadow and I went for a nice walk. I had to go to the bank, so we went there first. We perused the city; not for something to do, but just to peruse: over the tracks, behind Flanagan's, next to Walgreens (but not inside). Then I was feeling a little drowsy, so we stopped by Brewed Awakenings. My shadow didn't want to go inside, so I was the only one who got coffee. My shadow still wanted to hang out, so we went to the park. With a warm orange glow on the skin and a soft touch to the eyes the sun hit the park just right. Last evening was an evening well worth a stroll.

I Want to be a Widget King.

Every internet/computer/technology/new/any company seems to be battling it out to be Widget king. Widgets integrated into Vista! New improved Yahoo! widgets. Google Desktop - every imaginable widget included. Mac OS X, hey didn't we try this first, ours are still good. I can't tell the difference between any of them anymore. They just clutter my desktop and mind. There's only so much news I can exposed to rapidly; there's only so many ways I'm willing to check my email; there's only so many ways I'm willing to use my computer to chat with others; there's only so many ways I wanted to be informed about the weather. Enough is enough.
Dear Microsoft, Google, Yahoo, and Apple
Widgets are nice, but they don't mean the world to me. Not even close. Productivity tools are great, but there are only so many you can have until you need productivity software to manage your productivity software. So please stop pushing widgets in my face like they will change my life. They save me 3 minutes a day if I'm lucky; 3 minutes I would have spent staring aimlessly.
Charles

Computers

Last week I went to WLFM and discovered that the computer was dead. I jumped through the usual hoops: calling the help desk and moving operations into the studio. The next day, they took the computer, and left me with an empty desk. After a week it was still missing. The monitor laid naked on the desk, the only image it displayed was my distorted face, and the cord dangled beneath the desk. Left with no option, I called the help desk again; it pained me, it always does, but I had to. It wasn't ready yet. Today the computer was back, sitting idle like nothing happened, like it hadn't turned it's back on me and died. But I don't forget that easily.
Dear WLFM office computer,
you have some hard work ahead of you in order to win me back.
Charles

Music

For the most part I like working in silence. When I first studied math, I would always play music in the background; however, now I find that it ruins my internal dialog. My thoughts get mashed up with the beat. More and more I've come to appreciate silence. That's why I like mornings, the only noise is the shuffling of my feat and the gurgle of Mr. Coffee. Sometimes I wake up too late, and the custodian is around. She doesn't like to talk, which is good; however she creates a cacophony that my ears don't want to hear so early. It's okay, cleaning is a good thing, and she doesn't sing while she cleans. Mornings are great: no one is around, the whole day is ahead of you, and there's always coffee.

Mornings and Jobs

I was in a foul mood this morning. Everything was on par with normal: I woke up, didn't talk to anyone, had coffee, watched Sportscenter, avoided eye contact with the custodian, and showered. Showers normally wash away my frustration, but not today; the warm water seemed to pierce and chip away at my skin, maybe the water was extra hard today. I spent the rest of today at WLFM. On Monday I sent my resume to a Lawrence alum; today I got a follow up interview from a college recruiter for his company. Good sign - I think. I replied right away. The position is in Washington DC. I don't know how I feel about DC. It has a high crime rate, and feels segregated. Anyways, those were my impressions after I visited in 7th grade.

A job is a job, and I need something that will get me started. I continue to find articles predicting that the job market is strong for entry level positions. This is contrary to how most Lawrence seniors feel right now. For the most part companies direct us to their website where we submit our gleaming resumes into a black hole of a database. The first time I submitted a resume online, I felt like I had accomplished something. I took up the process in an excited frenzy. I spent spring break scanning hundreds of jobs, soaking in each line of the descriptions and requirements. Finally a match. I scurried to hit apply. Page after page, I filled in personal info, professional info, miscellaneous info, info on info, until I was at page 172 of 172 where I was instructed to review my application before officially submitting it. I meticulously overlooked each part of my application, triple checked my resume, and stared at the submit button for an eternity. Then, in an exhilarating instant, I clicked it - the page reloaded, only to leave me with a long winded thanks. Then silence. Nothing. No email, no gmail. Nothing. No yes, no No. For several days I waited, but the only response I received was that long winded thanks. It was after that I decided that applying online was not how anyone got a job; I was only going to get a job by banging on doors, asking alumni to give me a job, applying to any career center job, talking to family friends, and then repeat. Repeat. Repeat. The best part of being an undergrad are the options, you can be any major and do anything; however, upon graduation you have three options: Repeat, starve, or live at home. I guess I 'll continue to Repeat - banging on doors until someone lets me in.

Spring

Baseball is officially underway. That means I am going to compulsively check the status of my fantasy team until the free trial of StatTracker expires. After few weeks of experiencing the slight pain of non real time stats, I will break down and buy the StatTracker, and consequently return to compulsively checking my team. My relationship with baseball is regrettable. Regrettable is a bad word, because I never chose to like baseball or the Cubs; I just did - much to my Summer's dismay.

Intramural Basketball season starts on Wednesday. Prediction: same teams, 8 weeks, 16 games, one championship for East John St. Ballers.

Snow and Spring

It snowed today. It's April. Sometimes I forget that I live in Wisconsin. I need a change. Not in the worst way, but in some way. College is marathon that ends very quickly after realizing you are out of breath, and then you precede to fall across the finish line. Shortest four years of my life. I don't always feel this way, but sometimes. Just like Math. I love it, and hate it. It frustrates and amazes me in one line or even just two symbols. I watched a NOVA on Archimedes today. I don't know if the Earth will ever again see a thinker who is 1800 years ahead of his time. I could read about Archimedes every day. No one will read this, and that is great.