Two Days

Tired of mulling over it and waiting for an email, I wandered over to the Sage computer lab. For 15 minutes I avoided checking my email, it definitely crossed my mind. When I went back to my room, I had a missed call from a strange number. 404, what area code is 404? As I thought about it that number rang again. Caught off guard, I didn't know what to say, except that's great news. I start July 30th in Washington DC. I liked DC, I liked the Office in DC - I'm excited. It's 83 degrees out; I better get used to it.

Senior Dinner is tonight. I feel that it will be more of a rite of passage than a good time.

Memorial Day

Tomorrow is Tuesday.

Flight number 7

The interview is over; no turning back. Now, I'm crammed into my 7th airplane seat of the week, and I have one seat left to stuff myself into in approximately 2 hours. The interview could have gone better, and now I'm stuck alone to mull it over. They gave me a welcome package - earphones, folder, company information, playing cards, pen, and an apple. I promptly ate the apple. One of the managers said on his way out of the room after the second interview, "I hope I see you in the office in July;" however, the other one just said it was nice meeting you. I don't know what to make of it yet. I've never done this before. I hear sometime between Tuesday and next Friday. I can't wait for June 1st. Until then I'll continue to check my email compulsively; only airports without a free wireless connection will stop me.

One flight left, probably means one more blog to write.I don't want to write my paper, or give my presentation. I just want things settled. The United ticketing agent for my flight looked like a Texan version of Andy Kaufman. I could see myself living in DC...I can't handle all of this waiting. IM Basketball playoffs tonight, radio show, and senior night. Every night is the weekend until June 10th.

Hotel

Cable, hot tub, king sized bed, room service: Everything.

From the plane

Midwest Airlines is my hero. I'm sitting coach, but the armrest is wide enough for two arms - just like first class. I fit in the seat - no cramped legs. They give you pretzels - and you know how I feel about snack packs. They serve Alterra Coffee. Washington D.C. here I come. Apparently, they also have a signature cookie service. After the drink cart came along a cart only serving cookies - warm, fresh baked cookies (I swear they have an oven on this plane). Anyways, they don't ask you if you'd like a cookies, rather they simply say "Would you like extra cookies?" Then when you refuse, they look quite puzzled and hand you two cookies (If you say yes you receive 4 to 5 cookies). The older woman next to me who is wearing a black jumpsuit got extra cookies, pocketed two of them, and then seemed upset that I took the "normal amount." I should have taken extra and given them to her to pocket.

I've spent a lot of time alone traveling the past few days - it's been alright there's always a Starbucks around. Maybe this will be what next year is like - writing UseCases and drawing domain diagrams as I fly back to DC in a suit.

I've really enjoyed having this blog. I hate saying this, but it feels nice to write regularly. I don't want it to be a journal - journals are written as private, but dying to be read - that's a disaster.

Writing was always a passion of mine, but after taking fiction writing I couldn't bring myself to do it. Something in me was lost, or at least hidden. I think it was good for me to take some time off; I needed to mature and move away from everything that was happening. I tried again in Budapest, but there was too much going on in my head. It was a giant clutter of thoughts and emotions. My sentences droned on, and my focus was placed on spitting the information out into an email rather than a coherent narrative. I need to read more. My writing is devoid of humor; I used to be a humorist (not my direct words). I don't know what it was that I did before, but it worked. I don't think this is a coincidence that I start this again. My whole family seems to be writing. Every time I see someone reading Bring Down the House I thing "oh it is possible." I'm interesting, I own a thesaurus, okay so my laptop has a thesaurus, well anyways I could maybe write something funny.

June 10th, Commencement, a beginning.

Milwaukee

My flight from Appleton was canceled. United switched me to Midwest Airlines Washington National via Milwaukee. Now here I am in Milwaukee. The last time I spent an extend amount of time here, I was at the Greyhound terminal. I vowed never to go back. Surprisingly, the airport does not differ much from the bus station.

In the past week I've been to Appleton, Detroit, Boston, and now Milwaukee. I've been unsatisfied with each airport. They continue to try and charge me for wireless, not gonna happen. I'm currently sitting in a TCBY UNO combo restaurant where the only flavors or yogurt are vanilla or chocolate and the personal pizzas have been shipped frozen from Chicago there were improperly reheated in a pizza oven similar to one owned by Downer Commons. They seemed bothered to serve me - I would have been too, I ordered a personal cheese pizza anyways. It didn't taste like home.

One of the woman working has the same accent as Marija from school; annunciates well with strong high pitched accents on every other syllable. She appears to be the manager. Invigorated by her job, she bounces back and forth between the register and pizza, slicing and serving with a funny accent and flowing with pleasantries. A man wearing a Salmon colored shirt just walked behind the counter and helped himself to ice cream. No one was looking; success - no one stopped him, not even Marija. "Can you wait one moment for the cheese pizza please? I'll cash you out on the cash register right there."

The passengers walking by seemed intrigued yet disappointed by the shop. They pause for a moment where the carpet and tile meet - the division between the terminal and restaurant - with their rolling suitcases at their sides. Their lips purse eyes wander as they survey the stand. Then a heavy breath flows from their lungs, and they turn to the Starbucks. I'm unable to figure out why they leave; the walk over here from the gates says "Restaurant" and points in this direction. Maybe they were expecting more than one restaurant. They should have read the sign.

The adolescent employees here were just informed that if everything is clean in 30 minutes, they can eat. I've been here for 20 minutes, and this is the time I've seen them lift a finger. I take that back, one of them filled a cup of soda, which they preceded to drink themselves. Some of the passengers that paused, stared longingly, and moved on are back; they must have realized that this is the only restaurant. They're out of ice cream, the crowd is getting restless.

Starbucks here I come. After that Washington National here I come. I've set this to post via email. I'm not sure how this will work, but as soon as I get a connection it will wend the post.

Class Once Again

Once again, I find myself in class unable to concentrate after 10 minutes of lecture. Thoughts on the weekend:

The official ceremony was at the Fleet center with a Jumbo-tron, Dunkin' Donuts, and popcorn. People seemed to revert into game mode at an arena. I'm glad I went to Boston this weekend: saw my family, got away from things, played gameboy, finally got a good start on Omnivore's Dilemma, celebrated, and saw Bill Russel talk. As fun as a vacation can be it's always nice to come home. Every mundane thing feels comfortable: your own towel, room, lunch table, midday class, food, and familiar faces. I've been up since 4:30 am EST, and I have class for another 3 hours...I'm going to have pound some more coffee, keep my head down, and power through.

June 10th:
I have to keep in mind that commencement means "a beginning." June 10th is a beginning; I should not be afraid. It's another phase. Every senior seems to be feeling and having similar thoughts. It's about time I start living everyday like the weekend. 20 days - power through.

Subway

I took the subway from Logan International Airport Boston, MA to my dad's condo today. I just missed the shuttle, then watched in horror as the blue line clattered away, and finally saw the orange line screech it's way down the tunnel without me. Sometimes it just works out that way: maximal waiting. Standing next to me while I waited on the platform for the Orange line train were two typical hoodlums. With baggy jean shorts, wide open pinstriped jackets, and sideways San Diego padres hats they seemed harmless. Then I continued to survey the rest of the platform. Turning back to the hoodlums a few moments later, out of the corner of my eye I see one of them peeing on a broken ladder lying against the wall. Then when turns to wait for the train, the hoodlum, who didn't urinate, in public hands him HAND SANITIZER. I never would have guessed that they carried Purel in those baggy shorts.

Corollary: Public transit in Boston is a joke. Subway rides are $2; however, they take forever and they only go down the block. The green line is not a subway; it's a tram. I'll never pay two dollars for a subway ride here again.

My glasses are consistently dirty. It's nice to be here; I'm glad I came.

Travel

I've grown a great affinity for phones that ring with no one to answer them, particularly phones in busy areas. On Wednesday I heard the house phone ringing. Rather than shouting "phone phone" I made my way to the hallway to find Sam staring at the phone as it's old time bell ringer belabored his ears. I watched him for another ring or so and then picked it up. It was just Chris Wilye on the other line looking for Andrew Blair, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to miss out on the story of the other line. The phone at Gate A7 has been ringing off and on for the past 20 minutes. It's a bland series of electronic beeps, so I don't mind the noise amidst the clatter of the travelers; however, I'm tempted to pick it up, and find out who's on the other line. They'd probably detain me.

I'm currently in the Detroit Wayne County Airport awaiting my flight to Boston. They don't have free wireless here; I must post this later. If I was a mayor I would make sure that my airport had free wireless, what is this 2003. I have a premonition that my luggage will be lost, when I post this that issue will be settled so it's not something to concern this blog.

My life is in my backpack today - my computer, DS, favorite pencil, discount card, and eraser. Hold on tight. At the Outagamie County Airport in Appleton, WI I ran into a one Wayland Radin. He was coming to Boston just as I was going literally. We chatted just long enough to make Heather worry.

I'm going to miss my favorite tree this weekend.

Curmudgeon

I'm officially the old man of the house, and luckily I don't smell like moth balls or wear Depends.

I purchased some new travel accessories: Mario Kart and Atonement; I'll need them for my extensive journeys coming up.

I've always thrived at times of transition, but I'm stalling this time - probably because I'm biking against the wind. I hate the wind.

Emails to HR

It has never taken me so long to write two sentences.

Weekend Recap

Weekend recap: Sumo wrestling, M&M's, snack packs, grilling, baby carrots, tunnels, “September,” shacks, Mario the master carpenter, and a favorite tree.

Bernard Bolzano is one of my favorite Mathematicians. I feel like a nerd admitting that I have a list of favorite mathematicians, but I do; Bolzano is on the list – maybe number one. Or number 2 behind Archimedes, it's to be determined – stayed tuned. Anyways, Bolzano strove for rigor, an understanding of the infinite, a foundation of the real numbers worth standing on, and an analytic way to think of limits at a time when Calculus was still thought of in terms of infinitesimals. He never published the majority of his work in his lifetime; rather, it was all for intellectual curiosity and a desire to understand. The first substantial collection of his works was published in 1962, 114 years after he died. “Weirerstrass and Bolzano march arm-in-arm together through the history of mathematics, but not nearly enough seems to be know about Bolzano,” George Simmons Calculus Gems

The more often I clean my room, the more often I'm reminded that my life is falling apart at the seams – always. But I figure I'm a pretty good seamstress, so it's okay. The midterms I neglected turned out fine. One day this will all catch up to me, until then I'll never learn.

Thoughts on Lawrence

Recently I read the LUCC news letter. Each new officer explained their position and gave a few words of advice. The new VP explained the budget process: where the funding comes from, how's it's used, etc... He then encouraged students to become more involved on-campus. One of his main lines of reasoning was that students pay an activity fee, so they should join clubs and be involved; doing something other than that is apathetic. I'm all about clubs, and extracurricular activities have always been a large part of my Lawrence experience; however, I'm tired of people using this broken logic to tell people that they should join clubs. It is a required fee; as a student you do not have a choice to pay the fee or not - if you are on-campus, you pay it. When you pay for something you are not required to use it.

The second part also bothers me. If someone doesn't join a club it's not necessarily because of apathy - they may not be interested in any of the clubs; I'm sure there are plenty of students who come away from the activities fair in the fall with nothing more than a root beer float. Further, their interests may not warrant a club - maybe just a game of Blokus between friends - so claiming then that they should start their own club is also unfair and a poor generalization. There is something to be said to the student who is completely shut off, ignores the white boards in every dorm, the numerous posters around campus, copious amount of facebook invitations, or online Lawrence Calendar. Those students are being apathetic, because they do not think about what's happening around campus; however, simply not going to events or joining clubs is not apathetic - you may have an interest in the events. Sorry but this drives me nuts. There are plenty of clubs that I would never think twice about joining - Meele or Swing Dancing.

With all of this said it is difficult to bring people to events on this campus. Even when you put on a good event they don't turn out. I will never say that people should go, or they're sorry to miss it; rather I would encourage people to approach clubs and events in a different way around campus. If you see a flyer for a movie playing in Wriston look up what it's about before you decide not to go, same goes for a concert - listen to the band before deciding if you're going. Also many times it's a shared blame for poor turn out at events. People are so quick to hold the others who didn't come accountable; however, maybe the club has lost credibility in the past by putting on boring events or didn't advertise well this time.

Tomorrow

High of 76 degrees tomorrow. I ran out of granola. I still have homework to do; here's to spring term.

Reading Period is Over

Reading period just collapsed on top of me.

Here's a quarter personal that I'm going to put in the Lawrentian: "Dear Graduation, you're coming up fast. Can you hold on for one hot second?"

I have class tomorrow, that's bad. I wish today was warm enough for a bike ride.

Coffee

The house is out of coffee besides the hazelnut creme; that's bad. Last night I can only remember one dream: I found a large case of Caribou Mocha Java beans in my room; I was overjoyed. That's all that happened in it; I didn't even end up making it. I'm not even sure I was looking for it - it just fell in my lap. Maybe I need some more coffee, or maybe I need to go home for a day.

My back hurts, probably from picking everyone up and giving piggy back rides. Yukon Ho played last night for the last time; Pete has a ticket to Alaska on May 29th.

Reading period is about to come to a screeching halt where I remember that I do have class work to do, I have a lot of class work to do, I still have class, and only 4 weeks left. Anyways, here's to the best reading period ever. Only during reading period, can I cook dinner, spend a whole morning making granola, play roof ball all the time, spend 5 hours in a coffee house, take multiple bike rides, see Yukon Ho, and dislocate my arm. Okay so someone else cooked the dinner, but I helped with the grocery shopping. This entry took me way too long to write.

Reading Period

We are on the verge of reading period. Let us celebrate with roof ball and basketball in the setting sun this evening.

I found this article the other day, it is a graphical description of the song "This is why I'm Hot" by MiM, courtesy of the Village Voice. Hip Hop has been in the news lately for propagating crude misogynistic language and behavior. It's unfair that members of the media try to pin comments that Imus' or others make on one specific part of our culture, especially when Imus has nothing to do with Hip Hop. When I formulate my thoughts more formally I'll make on the issue, I'll post more, but until then I need to study for my midterm.