TL;DR

So today I got to hold an impromptu tutorial on How To Crash MedView/ Any Program You Happen To Have Running (on Mac or Win). 

Apparently I'm fantastically good at my job, which appears to be getting programs to crash in new and interesting ways that they technically shouldn't be crashing. This is, shocking I know, easier with Windows than it is with Mac. However this isn't due entirely to Windows being an epic failure as an OS... but that doesn't really matter, I suppose.

In less techy-jobby news, I've lost my iPod. Technically I lost it about a month ago when I left it sitting in a car, and forgot about it. Since then it's disappeared from not only the car but apparently the time/space continuum. Ouch. So now I get to decide if I want to spend my paycheck (which I get today, woo woo woo) on a new iPod, or on various other things I've kind of been wanting that are infinitely less expensive. My issue with getting a new mp3 player is that... well... usually when I want to listen to music, I'm in a car or at home. At home, I have my computer. In a car... I don't. But I can live without music. That's what NPR is for. But thinking ahead to walking everywhere on campus when I don't want to haul my computer around to listen to music, am I gonna regret not having an mp3 player? Am I going to be pissed at myself for not getting one before it came absolutely necessary?

As a side note, I've actually forgotten what other things that I've wanted (though I'm sure they seemed like really wantable things at the time), so that means I can't really have wanted them after all, yeah? So my choices are, buy a new iPod or save the money for later.

Tough choice, tough choice.

Maybe I should just go get myself one of those fantastic Big Ten Burritos and a bubble tea, and try to forget about lil' Donut, my frosty, pink, musically inclined companion.

OH, dude, Image Fulgurator. Omg,wtf,BBQ. In the future, every time I take a flash photo with my corporate-whored camera I'm probably gonna get some random fucking corporate-advertising spew on it? OMGWTF. This could go good ways or bad ways, and I'm guessing it's gonna end up bad ways... because those make more money. It'd be nice for professional photographers to have one to stamp their photos with name or logo as soon as they're taken. But is that really necessary? Eh. I'm not convinced of the practicality of it, anyway. Though some of the actual tech is pretty cool, what with the seriously improved slave flash it uses.

And remember all those times I told you guys to watch Doctor Who? Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe some hopes are just better left un-dashed. Because, seriously, what the fuck.

I admit, rather pathetically, that I got really into this season of DW, partially because it was just fucking weird and partially because it will be the last until 2010 (and possibly the last with Tennant + Tate. Thank god). But... in the very end, it turned into Harry Potter... /Peter Pan.

Okay, so, summary with lots of spoilers because you're never watching this (but I'm interested enough to write about it and therefore you all are interested enough to read about it).

The Doctor (magical time traveling superhuman ferret-man) is sitting in the TARDIS (magical/sciencey time/space traveling police box) when the earth is sucked out from under him. He has no idea where it's gone. The people of earth have no idea where they are, except there are 26 other RANDOM ASS planets in the sky for no apparent reason. In any event, they are quite clearly not where they were. Panic ensues. 

Eventually, this team of people who hung out with the Doctor at one point or another,  all are gathered together on this wonderful Deus Ex Machina called the "subwave" (which is this wave of, what I can only assume to be, magic, that no one but people who knew the doctor can use or connect to) and told they are Dumbledo...er, The Doctors secret army and it is Their Job to figure out a way to get The Doctor to Earth to save them from BIG BAD EVIL ALIEN RACE that has just conquered the Earth. Because the Doctor is the only one in the universe who isn't pants-on-head retarded.  Meanwhile, the Doctor is Elsewhere groping his own head in a desperate attempt to find his ass with at least one hand.

Anyway, the "DA" figure out a plan to somehow make all the telephones in the world call the Doctors cellphone number which is somehow gonna boost this subwave signal (....) so that the Doctor can hear it.

Wait.

What.

ANYWAY. So, every telephone in the U.K (which is loosely defined as : The World) starts calling this one cellphone number. Right. Plus three other cellphones, operated but some really unimportant people who were included because they were popular. Anyway, phones = calling, extra boosted by some kind of energy that is pulled from a rift in space and time. That was centered in the space where earth WAS, but isn't currently. but it works anyway. The Doctors cellphone starts ringing, and the TARDIS latches onto this subwave signal (slash telephone call)  and leaps a full one second ahead in time to where the earth is. 

Yes. The earth and 27 other planets disappeared from space and time. They disappeared to one second in the future. I don't even know. Does this mean that they are consistently one second ahead of time? But that means that.. um. Y'know, I can't actually wrap my mind around the fact you can theoretically move say, your desk, ahead in time one second and never hear from it again. I'm just gonna go with a sort of parallel universe that is, uh, one second in the future. Nnnnnng.

And this is basically where we are left, because it's a cliffhanger ending. Well, actually we are left with all the backup characters about to be killed by BIG BAD EVIL while all the "main" characters (best friends or love interests of the Doctor) gather around to watch the Doctor die. Slash not die. Sort of die? He's going to be kind of dead-ish.

Granted, this is all from a series that operates on the suspension of disbelief, but usually it at least tries to justify it in some way. But lately it's been: Well, everyone loves the Doctor a big huggy bunch, and so everything that went wrong just gets reset in time like it never happened. Hooray! 

Russell T. Davies, the author of most of the episodes, is a fun loving guy. He just wants to tell a story that's interesting! And he does. It just makes your mind explode. The BIG BAD EVIL GUYS have been completely wiped out, as a race, at least 5 times already. They keep coming back for extremely contrived reasons, this time it's because a retard (no joke, he's a giggly, happy mutant squid with down syndrome) got shot back in time to a "time-locked" point in time and saved the creator of the race from death, and thus perpetuating the species. As a side note Davros, the creator of the species, does his job by growing one-eyed squid things in his chest cavity and transplanting them into robot shells when they mature. Does this seem very efficient to you?

Maybe I'm just finally realizing how picked over this series is. I just wanted Doctor Who to come back so much that I blindly ignored the obvious bullshit in the first couple seasons, only coming to realize how terribly re-hashed it is when it's too late to save myself.  I can sum up the two main writers in a sentence each.

Russell T Davis: EVERYONE DIES, BUT THEY ALSO LIVE, BECAUSE OF MAGIC. 

Steven Moffat: EVERYONE LIVES, BECAUSE OF MAGIC AND AWESOME, BUT FIRST A LOT OF PEOPLE SEEM TO DIE REALLY HORRIBLY.

I guess if I had to sum up Doctor Who I'd say: "It's generally horribly contrived, but if you don't actually care about the 'why' it's a lot of fun and highly entertaining". So, as most TV nowadays, you actually have to try to not have a brain when you watch it.

Ugh, and three hours later I may actually finish this. I just got away from physical therapy, which is basically run by two tiny extremely polite and efficient Pakistani (or so I assume) women. They make me feel like a great big lumbering incompetent, so aka Landon. And what a disturbing feeling that is. I walked in, filled out a few forms, and got my knee prodded a little bit. I was then informed that I had lost an inch and a half or so of muscle, and that I was gonna be really sore for a long period of time. 

She then proceeded to put a hotpad under my knee and ultrasound the top. This was strangely relaxing, it was like a very gentle, gooey skin massage for my very warm and relaxed knee. And then I was put through the exercises I was to do at home (which would be ridiculously easy if, y'know, I had any muscles at all. Which I don't. It was HARD). These basically involved lifting my leg up while laying in different positions. She also had me lie on my stomach and try to bend my knee, which was hilarious because every time I tried to do it it bent farther and she kept telling me to stop changing it and just go as far as I could. I loled a bit.

Then I underwent shock therapy.

No, seriously. She attached a bunch of electrodes to my thigh (four, starting at my knee and going to just below my hipbone, evenly spaced) and instructed me to tell her when they bugged me. This was extremely hard to do, as if you've ever had electricity run through your body you know it's pretty uncomfortable at all times. She turned the machine on and I went "WHOAAAAAAA" to which she replied "Too much, already?" Which just sort of made me feel like a wimp. So I sat there as she turned the dial up until I could feel the bone resonating and finally decided that it should be done. We repeated this several times and she said "Okay, now I'm going to set it to buzz you for 10 seconds every 10 seconds. When you feel the buzz, lift your  lower leg up". I whimpered, as I hadn't expected the previous bit to be just a prelude to the main event. She smiled sympathetically and said "Oh, don't worry. If it gets too tough just don't lift your leg up, take a break for a little bit! This will be going for 10 minutes ". To me, this was a challenge. Too tough, for ME?! I don't think so!

Wah wah wah, yes I did all of them, and y'know, it didn't hurt. My muscles didn't get stiff, or anything. It just got harder to lift my leg up. Like the more electricity that was shot through my muscles, the more they didn't want to work.  I also began to feel the vibrations very acutely, to the point where I could probably outline where the different jolts were intersecting each other. It was just... mildly uncomfortable, in a very weird way.

I then got an ice pack on my knee for 12 minutes and they kept asking me if I needed a blanket, which I steadfastly refused... to their complete shock ("All the men beg for blankets before we even put the ice on!" I laughed, because they were probably just saying it to tease my dad, being the only male in the room). And that was it! An hour of not really much, and sent on my way. "Hooray, I'm glad I'm paying for this" I thought sarcastically to myself, as I got in the car. Getting OUT of the car when I got home, I thought to myself "owwwwwww waaaahhh my knee hurts!". More fool, me.

Also, when I got home there was a huge box full of tea, books, fudge, marmalade and something called "toffee waffles" waiting for me (tiny waffles with soft butter toffee filling). What a fantastic end to the day.

Sorry for the length, but I had (almost) nothing to do all day.

Copping Out

Guys. I'm at work.  Isn't that just thrilling?

Currently I'm working through the User Guide for MedView (one of the the programs MedImage produces) and updating it to accurately represent v. 11.7. This is not as tedious nor as stimulating as it sounds (I've found it can go either way). I spent two hours earlier fixing links that I had spent the previous hour creating, because I realized that when you're making a webpage, if you link to a page that is under a different set of files you have to prefix your reference with "../../" I learned this half an hour into trying to figure out why the fuck all the pages I created wouldn't load from the index. I learned this after I figured out that when you're linking to a page that is contained within the SAME set of files as the page you are linking FROM, if you include the reference name of this set of files the page STILL wont load... because... wait. You guys really couldn't give less of a shit, could you? I could go really hardcore in depth about this, if you want. No, I'm serious. I can use examples. Seriously!

Fucking damnit, is my job... wait. I LIKE MY JOB. Ahahaha. I have 6 more User Guides to bring up to date.  For the rest of them it pretty much entails finding the page that has the version history and updating it to have the date of the most recent version update (date date date, date? date! Repetition!). This is made somewhat easier by the fact most of the user guides, from what I can tell, don't HAVE a version history. 

If you're unclear as to what I'm talking about when I say "User Guide" then I have this to say: Fuck You, but you're not alone. Because no one EVER FUCKING READS THE USER GUIDES. EVER. They're the most useless piece of shit since Landon. Or Vice Versa. Whatever. And yet I'm somehow getting paid to do this. 

I'm unsure whether to rage or gloat.

Anyway, there is a piece of paper, JUST ONE, decorating the four walls of my tiny little office. It's been there ever since I can remember...before this was even technically an "office". It used to just be a closet for x-ray image scanners that has one computer and it's a Dell, which means it's never been used, except maybe to test MedView... in 1993. 

Anyway, it says:

"beta tester, n. One who voluntarily entrusts their data, livelihood, and sanity to hardware or software designed to destroy all three. In earlier days, virgins were beta testers of volcanos"

Encouraging, isn't it? 

In other news, I have a kitten trying to shove his face into my nostril. That is all.

Summer Job FUN (used in this case as sarcasm)

Boy am I tired. But the black rubber streaks on my shirt look more like bike tire tread than car tire tread. . . (haha that was funny)

For those of you that know me, you probably know that I work at a bakery. For those of you that don't know, now you know. You newegg about my life! (again haha funny)

Anywho, for obvious reasons I'm not going to name the bakery.

From time to time I will probably mention "work" or "bakery" and this is the place I am referring to. SOoo, one of my favorite things to do is categorize customers. You can tell a lot about a person based on how they enter a store and shop. For the time being, however, I am going to just make a list of a few of my favorite categories, in chronological order of appearance during business hours. Keep in mind you get bonus points for customers who fall into several of the categories per shopping experience.

A. Waiters/Campers - When I'm scheduled to open, I wake at 5 a.m. During the longest day of the year, at 5 a.m. it's still dark out and chance of zombie attack is still relatively high. We open at 6:30 a.m. By six, there are actually people who sit in their cars and look at our store. Probably the most vivid memory of a waiter/camper as I call them, was a man who sat in his jeep cherokee, which was the only car within sight, and read the paper for about 20 minutes until we were in the final 15-20 minutes until the doors unlock. No joke, this dude stands there for the remaining time reading the paper. Another woman joins him. They stand there together. Then my co-worker goes to open the door and the camper waiters are pulling on the door so that the very instant the bolt slides back on the lock the door opens for them. . . WTF. WE SELL PASTRIES NOT CRACK. I mean honestly I'm not that great of a person to ask (well maybe I am) because bakery goods are not a real magnet for me but the stuff from the bakery that employs me is not exceptional. I still don't see the draw to getting coffee cake before the sun comes up. It's not like if it is exposed to light it goes bad. . . Unless it's a vampire cake. Yeah, I know it looks like red velvet. . .

B. Pointers - I think old women are the best at getting up early. I mean, I know that is stereotypical especially on sundays, but I have statistical data, and receipts. Anywho, I'm not sure if it is lack of eyesight, or perhaps just senility setting in, but pointing at something in the store that is 40 feet away and proclaiming "I'll take two of those," just is not specific enough. I'm sorry Eleanor-Ruth but there are a lot of products being specified by your elegantly bony finger. There is a formula to find just how many products you are pointing to at any given time. (Y divided by two where Y is equal to your age)

C. Tellers - There is nothing like a customer who describes to you, what is best about your product. Here is just a sample for you to try:
Me: Hello, what can I get for you today?
Cust: Your fruit torte is so delectable the flavor is amazing!
Me: (chuckle) Well I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Cust: Oooh, soft pretzels! I remember my father used to buy them for me at market.
Me: It's good our products bring fond memories.
Cust: Are these rolls from today, the last time I tasted them I thought they were a little hard.
Me: (THATS WHY THEY ARE CALLED HARD ROLLS) Oh, well yes they were made this morning I personally saw them as they arrived I guarantee they are fresh.
Cust: I never really liked your bagels though, I was always partial to [other bakery].
Me: Sorry to hear that.
Cust: Your cookies are delicious, however, especially the sugared ones.
Me: Delicious is what we bake for.
Cust: I have always been a fan of your brownies as well
Me: Me too they are so moist.
Cust: I remember when this bakery was [in other location]
Me: That was a while ago wasn't it.
Cust: I think you should put more salt in the rye bread
Me: You could always add salt.
-Then the customer will proceed into the following options:
1. Get nothing and leave
2. Get the only thing in the store they did not look at or comment on

D. Askers - It would not surprise me if there was a hidden camera crew directed by a game show host being televised live on, "Memorize your inventory like elementary vocab!" with these people.

Cust: What is in this?
Me: An oatmeal coconut base glazed with a butter-sugar icing. As you can see the yellow in the middle of the oatmeal coconut sandwich is a lemon filling that is both tangy and sweet but not too much of either.
Cust: How bout this?
Me: A graham cracker cookie base with 3 layers of sponge cake, each one separated by exotic fruit jellies that you've never heard of. On top is a hand decorated white chocolate swirl. FYI the fruit was not touched my latin american migrant workers and it was flown in this morning by cybernetic fruit machines so it tastes like it fell out of the tree into your mouth.
Cust:And this?
Me: Well this is something really special. The elves in the back have had this recipe for generations. Before the garden of eden, there was the elves garden called "What if you could make the most intense aphrodisiacs grow on trees AND look like pastries?" But then some some guy name Ogd or something made this weird garden of Eden. Anywho, this may look like a normal cheesecake, but look again, the elves have been able to extract the DNA from the cheesecake tree in their ancient garden from a mosquito in amber and now cheesecakes grow on trees!
Cust: It all looks so wonderful I think I'll be back sometime next week to ask questions again!

E. Complainers - These are the kind of people who would argue with the mathematical fact that 2+2 is indeed 4 just to get two pennies back, save half a second, or get a sick satisfaction out of making your breathing more exacerbated than it really needs to be. These are the people who make comments like:


"Ummm, your coffee is not empty at all but I just dont think 211 degree is hot enough. I would prefer it if you could make another pot of coffee and bring it out while its boiing. . ."
AND
"Can i feel the bread. When was this made? Oh wow just today? Really just 3 hours ago because it feels really hard like its been out here for three weeks. . ." (if you want i could just run back and grab some bread dough for you that has not been cooked it's usually nice and soft.)
AND
"Are you serious? 8 Dollars for a pound of cookies!? Wait you expect to make some kind of profit. I thought you were running a promotion for a charity. . ."

Complainers can also be characterized by doing things like:
Ordering a cake, purchasing it, taking it home, eat all by half a piece, and bringing it back complaining, "I ordered a cake that was chocolate on the left and yellow on the right. Well it was all chocolate.
Me: yes mam it looks like that last sliver of a piece is chocolate. and it is on the left side.
Yeah well, I want a full refund.
Me: I understand and I sympathize but I won't pay you back for a cake you ate.
Yeah but we didn't enjoy it.
Me: Well I'm sorry but you still ate it.
MAN WHATEVER IM NEVER COMING BACK
Me: Well I hate to lose a customer but try saying there was a hair in the cake with the next bakery, it's more compelling.

AND

(It takes a good 30 seconds to a minute to make a box. It takes a good minute to two minutes to select a dozen donuts and put them in the box. Imagine a line of five different customers anxiously awaiting bakery crack. 90 seconds is relatively close to infinity.

You bag two dozen donuts. Then:
"Oh my gosh you bagged them. I'm soooo sorry could you like do you think just put them in a box that was be so great and im running a little late so if you could like you know try to speed it up that would be so fantastic you would like be my favorite."

To Be Continued: (F. and others next time!)

P.S. Check out Landon's Job, he has it worse then I do
P.S. S. I make a higher wage than he does
P.S.S. I can actually select days off
P.S.S.S. I have always wanted to have that many Ss so you have to sound it out!
P.S.S.S.S. PSSSsss

I just had to share...

Okay, I knew I said I wasn't gonna be on for like a week (read: basically until next thursday. Which is coincidentally the day my doc tells me if I can go to hell or not) but... Well, I felt like telling you guys how I finally got my dad to hire me.

Backround:

My dad has been telling me he's going to give me a job doing all the tiny bitchworks he never gets around to, and I'll get paid for it and it'll be great. He's been telling me this for so long I have utterly avoided putting in apps anywhere else, because I mean, hey. However, him promising to give me this job has resulted in Jack Shit. He's always too busy to help or too tired or he literally gets up an hour early to go to work to avoid taking me ("you slept in!" MY ASS).

So, finally, I'm fed up. The job market in Ann Arbor is so fucking over saturated with FoB Pfizer rejects and their pretentious little teens that it's almost utterly impossible for a gimp to get a job in Ann Arbor. I say almost, because there is one place that is always hiring. And they'll take whoever promises to work for them, regardless of what state they're in.

That's right.

I got another job painting houses.

My dad was so totally horrified by the fact I would actually work this job again (not to mention with a bum leg) that he is begging me to come to work with him tomorrow so we can do paperwork and I, y'know, actually start working.

What I didn't tell him, though, is that they wouldn't actually let me paint houses because A) I'm (most likely) starting physical therapy soon and working 16 hour days so does not coincide with doing... well, anything else, really and B) I can't actually climb ladders. Or roofs. Or, y'know, anything. But my dad has such a low opinion of the CWP (for good reason) that he believes they'll stoop anything to get cheap labor.

Point being, I will finally start working. Which means I'll have gas money for later in the summer AND something societally (HAH) productive to do.

In other news: I finished an 11 book series in under a week. 

Slave to Rubbermaid, maker of small plastic bins.....

Alright, now I have had by far the worst working day of my life and because I know all of you love others misery, here is my day (also the story has a few funny parts, I might be out a job tomorrow).
So, i get to rubbermaid at 5:45 as usual, ready for work as this is the second day of 3 I am working ( i hate working weekends). they put me on press 312, which is like the devil's little cousin. The press basically makes little plastic cups that people buy and reuse. well, they have plastic parts that need to be torched off. When your done with the first 32, the next come down and so you really dont have a whole lot of time between takes and when you fill 12 boxes, you have to saran wrap them. so,you get backed up pretty quick.
Upon getting to my press, I found I am out of boxes. fuck. well, I torch what I can and just wait for the towmotors to bring me boxes. they finally get around to it and im up to my ears in plastic cups. so, I begin to put them in boxes and stack them into a little plastic monolith. Half way through, i pick up a box and the box falls open. IT FALLS OPEN, with around 1600 little cups rolling around on the ground because some douchbag didnt notice that there is a flap missing (but neither did I in my rush, so its not completely his fault.). My quality tech looks at me picking up cups with a cross between humor and annoyance on her face. But she ignores me. Thanks. Basically, her job entails going around making sure everyone else is doing their job. KINDA HARD FOR ME TO DO MINE WHEN 1600 CUPS ARE ROLLING AROUND MY FEET.
As I pick up these little bastards, I notice that my press is now backed up almost to the limit with new cups waiting to be torched. so, I simply remember and follow the old 2 word philosophy that has been with man from the dawn of time. FUCK IT.
SO, basically, I just started packing everything. fuck torching, fuck cleaning, fuck it.
this shit needs done, NO one else will do it. so, I packed around 3200 cups (2boxes worth) that are untorched, untrimmed and more or less kinda raw looking. ( I dont suggest buying any little cups from them anytime soon). The entire time looking over my shoulder for the plastic horsemen of the apocalypse to take me away to a plastic hell (much like magnito from xmen would go i suppose). however, i wasn't caught. This is the point I ask how is mediocrity a bad thing? yes, too much is, but then again, so is being too good of a worker in large portions. I simply think its a tool for the cunning, instead of the strong. Whatever, anyways, whats the worst they can do fire me? whats bad about that? finally, i got back on track and a few hours later, switched presses at midnight.
The next press spat out totes (bins basically). and everything was going well enough. my floor person came over and let me go to lunch break, the measly 30 min i have to eat. I looked at my phone, set the alarm for 29 min later, so id be on time after the 1 min walk and went to eat. at luch found a penny, thought "this day isn't so bad now..." WRONG. so, I get back to my press 30 min later, and my floor person looks at me in that "your in trouble now" look. "YOU KNOW YOUR 4 MIN LATE RIGHT?" she said above the noise of the machines. I looked at my phone again, umm "Sorry..."
Im a fan of "fuck the new guy" as much as the next person, I might as well have invented it. I dont like it when im the new guy. This floor lady had been late all night. ALL NIGHT. this was not my fault. so, w/e. maybe im wrong, maybe im not. but Im def. pissed now. a few hours later i get my last 10 min break (you get 1 every 2 hours and a lunch around midnight) and when I was let go, I set my phone immediately 2 min earlier then it should have been. (this way i was showing up 3 min early.) a few min go by, and im on the way back to my press just waiting for this bitch to tell me i was late again. sure enough, i get back and she actually says "watch it, you were 2 min late again."
This is the point I no longer valued my job. i might get fired from something else anyways from tonight, so fuck it. I told her"i set my phone to make me 3 min early."
"well" she says " your phone isnt the clock over there.." she points to the raggedy peice of shit hanging on the wall that is an excuse for a clock."
"lady," I say, getting pissed now that im just being lied to blatantly "my phone connects to satellites in outer space, updating every nanosecond." ( I think i impressed her with technology here, as her eyes were really wide).
I looked at the clock "That rinky-dink piece of shit runs on the dreams of migrant children and a pair of corroded "AA" batteries. Dont you dare pull that 'fuck the new guy shit again'."
with that, i began my work again and she left. I hummed a bit to myself and an hour or two later i was out. but, If i don't have a job tomorrow, im not surprised. shes good friends with a higher-up. thats the only reason shes still there.
Oh well. hope you guys enjoy my pain. however im tired as shit, so im going to bed.

-peace

Wait for it.....wait for it.....yea, im screwed.

So here I am about to say what I think everyone has kinda unofficially realized: I can't do anything this summer. I know we have a little under two months and I know that I could call off sick, but the job that I have is tough as hell, the days I do have off I'm usually recovering and/or running errands. I'm not on Live really at all, I've turned down Mike for paintball, Justin for camping as well as some of you. So, in short, I'm sorry. In length: Fife, guess you gotta come back to BG, sorry man, Brad hope your doing well, look forward to rooming with you (don't worry I won't get naked on your bed and jerk it like I did with my other roommate.....yea anyways...),

Becca; please write "motivation" on your hand and hit yourself with it and pretend its me. I prefer a downward swing at about 35 p.s.i. also, I mailed the tickets to Bryan today. Momus, I'm not sure how your slimy ass made it to this blog but I'm sure I'd make some witty comment if I knew who you were (so don't take offense to the "slimy ass" thing just yet. It could be dry and clean I just don't know.). Also, I feel inclined to tell everyone to bring your money this year to school cause September, October, and November are THE MONTHS FOR GAMES. We are looking at Star Wars: Forced Unleashed for September, Fable 2 for October and Gears of War 2 and Left 4 Dead in November. I plan to get them all at CC Games. I propose a massive LAN party with them (gosh Fife, you just are missing all the fun, kinda makes you want to go back to BG huh?). So, I really hope all you guys are doing ok. I know this isn't exactly the "Let's all hang out" this summer like we wanted but I'm sure we will make due.

It's 3 in the morning, I've got nowhere to be

So. 

I had, for a period of maybe 4 weeks, maintained this awesome sleep schedule of going to bed at 12 am or 1 am and wake up at 10 am or 1 am. This worked fantastically and I was well pleased with myself for keeping to this despite the distinct lack of anything to do. Then, the futility of it all set in. I never have anywhere to be... I have absolutely no reason for waking up. Ever. I could stay in bed for weeks at a time and it wouldn't matter to anyone, anywhere. Since this point, I've started staying up later, waking up later, and generally doing less of the things I rarely did anyway. Get this: I've even stopped drinking coffee. Entirely: No point.

It. Sucks.

And so, I've decided to blame the internet and my computer for the failings of my own psyche- and will be taking a long leave of absence from said things. By long I mean: a week. Just to see how it affects me. Of course, this also means I'm going to be ditching the 360. Not that this matters particularly much to you guys, as we haven't played anything together in a while. 

SPEAKING OF: I've also quit Halo (unless I'm guaranteed to play with people I know and like)... however, unlike Landon, I've ditched Halo for a decent game: CoD4. Which is not just decent, it's fantastic. I suck at it, but still manage to do alright occasionally, and I haven't sworn at it yet. Yes, I've just spent the past 7 hours playing this game nonstop, and I haven't yet got frustrated with it. I'm not kidding! I'm not exaggerating about how long I've played it for, either. I'm still unsure as to what it is about CoD that makes me so very fond of it... the guns I've gotten so far are still on the shitty side, and I have no idea about map layout yet so choosing my class is a bit of an issue. But... it's twitchy. It's fun. You can stab people in a really, really satisfactory manner. It's pretty! And there is no annoying announcer guy. The people on live are probably still douchbaggy, I suppose- except I haven't really run into any douchebags. Nobody really speaks unless spoken to, unless it's to shout out advice. Which is lovely! Not a lot of chatter. People are focused more on the game- and they're not constantly fellating themselves over how many kills they've gotten. The downsides are: when you start out, it's extremely easy to die and really hard to figure out how to kill. The basic concept of "point and shoot" doesn't really seem to apply- at least not in the same way as Halo. You have to point, and then point again only zoomed in this time, and then you aim, and THEN you have to get your gun to fire, and by that point you're probably dead because the other guy did this all about 50x faster than you. This takes a couple online games to master, and by the time you've done that you've earned several NEW guns that are a lot more effective. But then you've gotta go through almost the same process with them. It's sort of annoying. But so very worth it. When you get your first 5 people killing spree and call in an airstrike, it's like God just personally reached down and gave you a cookie. 

Of course, this is all just my personal experience. I bought the game and started playing online immediately. I didn't play the campaign until a couple hours after I'd mastered the controls (and by master, I mean I finally stopped pressing the right bumper to reload). Other people probably spend hours and hours in the campaign and are a lot more comfortable when they finally hit matchmaking. Regardless. It was fun. I haven't gotten angry. Two Thumbs Up!

As far as personal notes go, my parents are currently in New Orleans for a nuclear medicine conference, and they also met up with my sister (Tori) who drove from Pensacola, Florida to see them. They're gonna be gone until wednesday (left friday), I think, and they gave my sister and I $50 to survive on. So far we've bought: sour cream, chocolate sauce, and eggs. Oh, and white grape juice. Mmm, delicious. We also each spent about $60 on books. It would have been $20 less for both of us, but Barnes and Noble had a display of leather bound, gold embossed classics. It included: Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Aesops Fables, The Oddessy, Grimms Fairy Tales, the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe, some other similar things and .... Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy. My sister got the complete works of Jane Austen and I got Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy (which was the only scifi in the display, and the only thing more recent than maybe 1970). It smells fantastic; like leather and a deep sense of satisfaction.

Anyway, nothing else to say, really. Though I've said quite a lot. I'll add this: my cat is pregnant and I'm wondering how bad a person I'd honestly be if I accidentally killed the kittens. Aahhh....

Shouldn't the week be over?

why do i have to make a new title every post. geeze.

Today there was almost an EMERGENCY.

So I finished working at the bakery and I go to the bathroom. Oh, I should preface this particular story by saying that for the most part I would not call many of my stories crude. (I take that back, I have a lot of crude stories, stories about crude oil! haha knee slapper.)

So I decide to go to the bathroom, without must thought actually just had to relieve myself. So I walk in and lock the door and I have one of those belts (you know the kind where like you undo it and no matter how big or small the belt it the end of it seems to be have some kind of polar attraction to the pee stream?) so I use my one hand to hold the belt back, and the other to you know, direct the stream. Suddenly the ALMOST EMERGENCY starts. I realize that my sunglasses are sitting, though not firmly, atop my head. I can feel them slowly falling forward towards my forehead. These are my favorite sunglasses. They are also the only pair I own. I got them from Walgreen's at 4 am before a 6 am trip to the Appalachian Trail. Anywho, they are crappy but still cost me 25 bucks. I would prefer to keep them as long as possible (that's what she said). Sooo, I'm taking this leak and both my hands are occupied while my sunglass fall forward in slomo. I'm really at a crossroads in my decision making. And not the one you get to when you are deciding colleges, careers, or life-partners or anything like that. This proverbial fork in my life is about personal pride. It's about dignity. It's about letting my Ironman by Fostergrant sunglasses come in direct, and disastrous contact with my own urine at a level fairly on par with EPIC-FAIL. OK? I am faced with a series of options that are making me sweat bullets while simultaneous shrinking my bladder.
I can:
A. Push, and try to finish peeing before my glasses fall from my head.
-Downside, what if I don't finish peeing in time?
B. Stop the fire hose by contracting the muscles in my pelvic region.
-Downside, it hurts, and then I would have to start again. . .
C. Lean back and turn my head at a 90 degree angle away from the stream.
-Downside, there is a high chance of missing the bowl all together.
D. Lean forward so my face is behind the John, if they fall, it will be behind the camode.
-Downside, the splash variable comes into play, and I'm wearing a thin, white shirt.

Indeed this a pivotal moment in my existence.

I go with option C. and realize within several galactic milliseconds if I simultaneously align my face in such a fashion, the entire possible outcome of digging sunglasses out of my own toilet bowl if fairly yellow shaded pee, can be averted!
But wow that was a close call. It's true if you get really scared like I did that you will pee.

They call me Colophon, Xenophanes of Colophon

For the uninformed, Xenophanes of Colophon was a Greek critic of Mythology. Man after my own heart...
So, guess who just found the invite for this blog sitting in his inbox along with 3 "make your penis bigger" ads, a picture of Fife's gaming setup with TV and computer and whatnot and something from tshirt hell? If you answered "Landon", you would be right. So, after inquiring on the "make your penis bigger" ads, i signed onto here. I find those penis enlarger ads redundant and regard them rather humorously. Think about it, when your about to have sex with a woman, having to unroll your dick just doesn't sound appealing to me or to the recipient.

For the time being I have resigned from Halo3. I feel like its become a fanboy heaven encourage by Bungie themselves. The people who play are tools, the system has become too run and gun for my tastes and really, aside from it being a great casual party game, i'm not too impressed. For some reason, getting bent over and having your ass tenderized by Fife, or some other freak, just doesn't seem appealing. So i've graduated to Gears of War. Sure the game is buggy, sure the game has network issues and hosting issues, but its the first game and even 2 years later, the game still looks amazing. And there are chainsaws on guns. Chainsaws...On...Guns....it cant get any cooler. Halo couldn't find anything in its worn out toy bin to impress me more than gears has. When gears 2 comes out, bet your ass Ill be standing in line in a fucking tent outside that gaming store, defending my spot with a bat in one hand and monster energy in the other.

Dragon Ball Z burst limit has also been a recent purchase of mine. I had high high hopes for it that came crashing through the roof like the dead body of a suicide victim. The game came with the first seven episodes of the Cartoon. "Great" said I, happy that the game appeared to be focusing on the newer generation of anime freaks, hooking kids like one would advertise cigarettes. After frisbeeing the disk outside and into the nearby woods (mainly cause I already own the first season on my computer and on DvD, and keeping it made little sense, especially after all the promising fun of winging that sharp little fucker at a small woodland creature...), I proceeded to put the game in to play. Playing the story mode left me confused and bewildered. I felt like I had been drinking all night with HUGE holes in my memory, mainly where my pants were, why my ass hurt, and why I had $20 stuffed in my mouth. The story mode was so patchy I even forgot the series, having to look it up online to make any real sense out of it at all. "Ok, fine, so the story sucked a big proverbial dick." maybe there is something else the game has to offer." NO. not really, the character selection is limited, especially when compared to the staggering 161 characters offered in DBZ tenkaichi budokai3. This game pushes 15. roughly 15 characters that really look and act no different than their ps2 counterpart. THEY COULD HAVE COPY FUCKING PASTED AN OLDER DBZ GAME FROM PS2 and that game would still be better...terrible. instead, we get this pathetically gutted version of Dragon Ball Z. They even neglected to put in several important fights that were extremely fun to watch in the series (you know, metal Freiza versus Trunks? yea, forget it). The funniest part for me though was playing as the MOTHERFUCKING VILLAIN in more than half of the major battles they should have LOST. or playing as the heroes when the heroes should have lost. Its like the story didn't give a shit if you won or not. "I just pounded the shit out of Recoome on Namek. Now why does the cut scene after the battle have him stand back up and toss me like a ragdoll? DO I EVEN MATTER? Or the big giant Broly...you basically pulp every hero in the series with him and then go to fight Goku. "Nows my chance to whomp on Broly for all the hurt hes been putting on the rest of the guys..." no. you get to be Broly again pounding away on Goku's face for 5 min. I wonder if the game designers wanted me to feel more sympathetic towards the villains and their side of things and so made me play as them. Kind of hard when they cackle evilly every time I punch someones face in... The game didn't give me the fanboy wood I wanted and so proverbially left me a little limp... it gets 5/10 wood plank ratings from me. Not great by any means but as a fighting game, the controls are polished and not glitchy at all. Also, being able to mega punch someone and stagger them is extremely stress relieving to do on character you hate. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone who doesn't love the series though, its just not enough of a solid game for that.

Aside from games, Ive played a few airsoft games, (the real mans video game), have more headshots on my shotgun, making people scared of it....and ive been working. working at rubbermaid. factory labor. 12 hour shifts, 2 days on and 2 days off, (then 3 days on or off depending on how the schedule falls). averaging out to a 40hr work week. Bad part is I'm working 6pm to 6am. Guess I'm a vampire...(no one tell Lauren...ha ha...Lauren joke....ha ha ha ha ha...) *ahem* anyways... Yea, so that's been about my summer as this far. a moth is already gone. its actually going much faster than i thought it would. I do miss you guys, not really though. as i'll see all of you but fife anyways. fife i do miss and hope he comes back to BG if things don't work out any other way. (we could be psyc majors together!!)

So, if anyone needs me, gimme a call but try for around 4:30-5:30 pm calls because those I will be awake to answer. Peace, and remember...CHAINSAWS ON GUNS RULE

A sip from the Mnemosyne

To continue on with Fife's Greek Mythology theme, (in some traditions) the Mnemosyne is a river twin to the Lethe in Hell- only instead of forgetting when you drink you remember everything and attain omniscience. Before incarnation it was rumored you were given a choice between the two rivers to drink from: the Lethe or the Mnemosyne.

Also, Mnemosyne is also the name of a titaness (the personification of memory) who slept with Zeus for nine nights and produced the nine muses. On a sidenote, she's the daughter of Gaia and Uranus. I fully encourage you to make as many jokes as possible regarding Uranus. 

Anyway, my point in all this was there is a choice between utter forgetfulness and remembrance. This blog is (or can be), amongst many things, a sip from the Mnemosyne- a chance at remembrance of what was and a glance into what is for each of us. So beyond all we may have individually gained in the last two semesters at BG, be it great or small, there is always a chance for more.

On a more personal note, the Lobby was definitely the best part of BG for me. The people, the experiences, the weird nomenclature days seemed to acquire: it all defined for me what it is to be at college. I can safely say that I have never had a group of friends quite akin to that I made last year and I probably never will again. I am immensely satisfied, however, with this turn of events. You never gain so much as you do in the loss of that which you treasure, it teaches you to cherish more deeply that which happens in the future... and it teaches you that everything passes, in its time. So instead of trying to preserve that which has passed, there is to be something new: A memory of life past and a knowledge of events present, but a reincarnation of that which has died.

All that said, I'm gonna go ahead and talk about something else. I haven't really kept in contact with anyone from the Lobby other than occasionally chatting on the phone with Bryan Barnes (last I heard: he shot a dove, field stripped it and ate it. Fascinating, non?) and that's kinda depressing. I know everyone in the world is busy with working(making money) and being productive except for me, but seriously. I want to know what you guys, this means you Fife and Brad, have been up to. Gimme an update, not just "Oh, you know, working.... sleeping..." I want anecdotes, I want rants. Throw me a bone here, folks! Whenever you have the time, though.

If I have to write out a stupid facebook style meme to make it easier, I'll do it. I swear to (entity) I'll do it.

I'M GONNA GO PLAY HALO WITH FIFE NOW.

Part Duex of Many More

Usually Fife's the guy that comes up with the delightful wording and hysterical phrases to put in a post but I've been working on my own little phrases and metaphors...

Life is like_________________.
Insert life changing metaphor

Pretty Good right? Thought so.


So yes, Fife and I (mainly Fife) came up with the idea that we start a blog for various reasons (for list of reasons, see previous post). Honestly, I was skeptical about the whole idea. I mean, I was never one for blogging or internet postings. In fact, I barely allowed myself a facebook. But after talking on the phone with him, I realized that, yes, this was a good idea. I didn't really fathom how much i missed everyone back at BG. I realized that I miss them all terribly! Especially a group of three people (you guys know who you are....cause were hittin Ann Arbor this summer. Hell yes.) who actually changed part of my life. Yea, I know, cheesy and honestly pathetic, but it's fact. And according to my retard Bio teacher last semester, you can't disprove facts or science.....people, I swear to God.


Adding on to what Fife had said about the lobby; it was nothing more than sarcastic and apathetic assholes. But honestly, that's why the lobby was wonderful. It was made up of REAL people! Not some frat or sorty (I'm trying that because I don't wanna type sorority.....wait, dammit) person who thrives of stupid, irrelavent and stupid miniscule shit. We talked about real things (relatively speaking) and let our true colors fly. So hopefully this blog with help remember and relive moments of that majesty.

And to Fife: I'm getting XBOX Live, keep your damn pants on.

More to come,
Laters

Big Plans?

Litte to Brad's knowledge, I am about to post the first of hopefully many fantastical thoughts that will live up to the title. Here is basically what is going to be going down. I'm pretty much only speaking for myself when I write the goals here. . .

But before we jump into too many hoops let me explain the circumstances and past history (from my perspective only).

A bunch of people gathered at BG way back in archaic Fall of 2007. This was long before many people were seriously bitching about gas prices, hopes were still relatively high for Halo 3, and Obama was still in Democratic candidate limbo. SOOO, this group of mostly freshman thrown into that whole college experience thing found each other gathering in the Lobby of their dorm. This gave birth (though many of the Lobbyists would not want to call it birth because most of "us" are fairly concerned with the world's population. . .) to an friendship, maybe fellowship, of what would become, in my words, outstandingly apathetic and sarcastic assholes. Anybody who was there who was not in that category found themselves leaving or staying for entertainment purposes??? In any case it was phenomenal and profound. Blah blah blah. After two semesters that passed by about as quickly as my own aspirations to do anything, it was time to leave. Some of the people who were part of that ephemeral experience will not be returning to it. This is the case for me personally. Part of this blog thing is really to keep in touch with some of those feelings and maybe to evolve it into something that can be kept. Indeed as the time is flying by there are particular moments that happened several months ago that I wish I could recapture and even keep, just for a moment even.
One of the people who was part of the Lobby was/is Brad. Brad and I talked and I proposed we start a group blog of some sort:

A. For ourselves.
B. For others.
C. I just put it there for fun.
D. For anyone that doesn't fit as categories A. or B.

Here it is. Probably there will be game, movie, and event reviews/critiques along with stories of our lives and even unseen forthcomings.

(Lethe was supposedly an ancient river in Hell. Those who drank from it forgot everything they had known before. Hopefully this blog will be even more successful than Lethe was.) Hope you liked this post Brad cause it's the first one.

-Fife

P.S. I love putting P.S.s so always check for them.
P.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S.S. I'm forrealz (that is a real word, wikipedia that shit) done now!