Fa la blah blah blah

Sweet baby Jesus, I'm done. This. semester. is. over.

That is, until I get my grades in the mail and wince. Followed by a good deal of grimacing.

So, lessons learned? Here's what I discovered about myself and life from this past fall semester:

- I am only as good as the author of my textbooks. Seriously, if my books suck, chances are I'll suck at the subject matter as well. On that note - I'm a genius when I read John Anderson. That man is God's gift to aerodynamics.
- I am either severely distracted, extremely lazy, or a combination of the two. My grades will probably be a testament to that.
- I might actually enjoy designing airplanes...as long as I don't have to do it in Excel. Ever again.
- When professors say "It only took me 15 minutes to write up the solution, so you shouldn't need more than 30," it actually means: "I made up the answers and it took me 15 minutes to write them out. If anyone hands in this exam before 2 hours, I'll give them a lollipop. But not really."
- I am going to miss band LIKE NO OTHER. It only took me 4 years as a member of the Mighty Sound of Maryland to realize that you won't find the kind of friends you had in the band for the rest of your life. I just hope that I can keep the ones I have even after we've all moved apart.
- The classes they make you take for undergraduate aerospace engineering do NOT make you want to be an aerospace engineer. This is quite unfortunate, given that I can appreciate how interesting the subject can be if I'm not attempting to finish homework assignments for it at 4 in the morning.
- I have a pretty terrible singing voice. Unfortunately for everyone else, I love to sing.
- As much as I love Matlab, I despise programming. The simple stuff is all well and grand, but building a program that takes in a jumble of satellite position and timing data to calculate its inertial frame and use a numerical solver to predict its path is not my idea of a good time. Given this fact, I am fairly certain I do not want to be an orbital engineer.
- I wish I could major in general engineering science. Science and engineering have become so specialized that it's impossible to become a general thinker - and this saddens me - because I enjoy learning about everything in life, not just the geometry of jet engine compressor blades. AND WORKING WITH THAT IS SOMEONE'S JOB.

So what have I learned this semester? Nothing useful, but I have created a list of things I would like to learn or accomplish in the future, and hopefully 2009 will be the year to start:

1. Learn to speak french, fluently (obviously, this will take more than a year)
   
2. Learn to break dance and hip-hop dance
3. Learn how to do a standing back-flip
4. Discover my true calling in life. Probably the easiest thing to accomplish on this list
5. Produce 1 major piece of artwork per month. It's time to put that high school studio art to good use.

The list goes on with the little this-and-that's of daily life, and hopefully I'll make the changes necessary to accomplish them.

Anywho, hopefully everyone has a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Even if you're not religious, you can still use the time to enjoy the company of the ones you care about. The time you have on this earth is precious and fleeting, so make it unforgettable.

Cheers!

And then the brave warrior returned to his castle...

So, uh, hi there. I'm back!

*cough*

After what has probably been a deeply depressing and dishearteningly dreary time for you all, I have returned! Although I'll probably end up disappearing for another 2-3 weeks as I wrap up the semester...or I'll do what I usually do - blogging when I should be doing work.

Life has been chaotic as usual. Band is almost wrapping down - we had auditions to fill my spot as drum major this past Wednesday, which was both an interesting and melancholy affair (at least on my part). I did perk up a bit when I noticed I had started the trend of flipping over people during auditions. I'm tellin ya *wink wink nudge nudge*, that'll getcha in fer sher.

Any time that may have been freed up by lack of band is now completely filled (and overflowing) with grad school applications and final projects. My senioritis has been KILLING me, and I just want to get this damn semester over with so I can mope about not being an undergrad for much longer in peace. I mean, come on Aircraft Design! Do I really have to design a UAV? Like, right now? Maybe later-ish?

..or never-ish?

If you also happen to be grinding your teeth at the moment, let me share a little conversation I overheard with you. Upon reading, you'll probably realize that your life is nowhere near the hell that these kids are going through....

GIRL: I think I stayed up until 2 or something to finish my paper. I almost had to sleep through my 10am this morning!
BOY: Well just think, we've still got 3 exams to get through.
GIRL: And 2 of them are back-to-back, Thursday and Friday! I mean, like, wtf?
BOY: What'd he say in class today?
GIRL: I think we can use our notes. But, I mean, even if I'm going out Thursday night for *SOMEGIRL*'s birthday, I still have to study for a couple hours.
BOY: When are you all going out?
GIRL: I think we leave for the metro at 9. You know what, I'll just study for like, 45 minutes. I got a 73 on the midterm by doing that.
BOY: HA, I got a 78!
GIRL: Yeah, well, you brought your notes! And you didn't even share with me!!!
BOY: That's what you get for being such a dumb b****, ahaha! Nah though, you wanna start studying tonight for Monday?
GIRL: Nah, I'm goin out tonight. I think we're rollin into Cstone after pregaming at *SOMEOTHERGIRL*'s place. You in?
BOY: Ahh yeeeah. We can study Monday morning or somethin.


And that's when I shot them both in the back of the head.

The end!

Cheers!

After spending way too much time recovering from our away trip to Vtech (where I was a COMPLETE idiot, as anyone in the band can tell you), I've finally decided to be productive to the extreme this weekend. I started this by, of course, waking up at 2pm today.

For all of you that are curious, Monday was a....rough...day for me. BUT, I've decided that if I really want something, like grad school, then the GREs aren't going to hold me back. Here's an updated list of the places I'll probably be applying to:

- Texas A&M
- University of Florida
- University of Maryland
- University of Michigan
- UCLA, San Diego
- University of Southern California

And, because I was a complete dumb-ass when it came to deciding where to send my GRE scores, I'm going to throw an application Caltech's way, although I really expect NOTHING from them.

Application due dates start December 1st. Wish me luck!

A single day.

My plans for the future suddenly became shaky when I saw those scores flash onto the screen. The quantitative score was average for an engineer, nothing special. The verbal score was embarrassing. Was I really that dumb? Maybe there's a good reason I don't speak much.

SELECT THE SCHOOLS YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEND YOUR SCORES TO.

Could I even send these scores? Stanford was now completely off the list. As was Caltech and Berkeley. Cornell, Carnegie Mellon. Princeton. They were gone. The process of mentally striking these schools off began to make my head swim. I had to make some quick choices, or else the time on the computer would probably expire, and nothing would be sent out. Do you still want to go to grad school? Yes. Then look towards the bottom of your list and send your scores there. They might take you. I laughed nervously to myself as I added USC, Texas A&M, University of Florida. Last one? Screw it, I'm sending it to Caltech. I had more redeeming qualities, right? Maybe they would look past the scores.

YOU HAVE NOW COMPLETED YOUR EXAMINATION AND ARE FREE TO LEAVE THE FACILITY. PLEASE TAKE ALL OF YOUR BELONGINGS WITH YOU, AND TURN IN YOUR SCRAP-PAPER TO THE DESK OUTSIDE THE DOOR.

The car-ride home was one of half-hearted joking about the test and listless mental pacing. Do I have more redeeming qualities? Redeeming engineering qualities? The answer to that last question was quickly becoming less certain. Flashing through my college career, it seemed like I had been the farthest from an engineering major that was possible while still staying within the curricular requirements. I had taken the classes, but I had then escaped into music, into band. Into soccer and running and swimming and parties and art and reading. What was it that Professor L had said?

Chris: Well, at that point, I had so much going on with band and my fraternity that I decided it would be too..
Prof L: Mhm, I see.
Chris: But I do have a lot of extracurriculars! How much does that weigh in?
Prof L: Extracurriculars are...fine. Of course, what were are looking for the most is interaction with your professors and research work, if available.
Chris: Don't have much of that....I did a little research before in the combustion la-
Prof L: In fact, it often seems to me that when a student with a greater number of extracurriculars applies, he'll be less focused on the research and more on the outside environment. You see what I'm saying?
Chris: I guess...So more extracurriculars comes-off as a bad thing?
Prof L: When I review grad student applications coming into a Maryland, those extracurriculars come-off more as distraction than anything else...

So I was distracted. But I had gotten decent grades. I may not have been one of those students that always skipped into the professor's office to ask questions, but I liked it that way. I liked knowing that I could figure it out myself. Damn, what had that kid said? That one that commented on my blog a while ago when I was talking about taking 20 credits and pledging at the same time...

20 credits along with outside activities is going to draw the attention of any university as too much on your plate....those reading your blog will see you as whining.
...
Unfortunately life is a game of sorts and the sooner you learn how to play by the rules rather the fight them you will win more often then lose.

Ok ok, I GET IT. It had been a simple truth that had stung at the time, and now it was always creeping up to haunt me. I had taken the risk of becoming the aero band kid rather than the purely aero kid, and I was paying the price. Guess everything catches up with you in the end.

Arriving back at my apartment, I stopped thinking long enough to realize my stomach was doing as many flips as my head was. Apparently I had used up everything in those four hours this morning, and it was time to refuel. Kimmie and Phil's? Don't have cash. Chipotle? Had it yesterday. Noodles. There we go. Pad Thai would really hit the spot.

I gathered my stuff for practice that afternoon and headed over to the shopping plaza next door to the apartments, becoming increasingly aware of the hole I had dug myself into throughout my years at Maryland. My grimace must have been fairly apparent when I arrived at the restaurant, as the cashier's smile faltered slightly and he averted his eyes towards the register. I placed my order and leaned against a low wooden wall with my hands in my hoodie pockets to wait for my food.

Overall below average GRE scores.
Little interaction with professors.
No shining 4.0 GPA.
Several months of research that was mostly spent constructing the steel frame of an experiment I never saw happen.
Too many extracurriculars.

There was no where else to shift the blame but myself. No one had forced any decision on me here at school. That was the beauty of college - you could do what you wanted to and become who you wanted to. I had been one of those people who had wanted to do it all, and all the options were available.

I wasn't aware of how much I had been dragging my feet along the sidewalk until about two-thirds the way to CSPAC. I looked up to discover that I was now behind McKeldin Library. What happened to those days when I would spend hours within those walls, studying? I continued on, not nearly as excited for my Pad Thai as I had been 20 minutes ago.

There were people in the band office, so I turned and walked back out to that table outside the band room. It was now becoming harder and harder to restrain the doubts that were leaking through my wall of future-certainty. I wouldn't be joining any top graduate engineering program. Probably nothing within the top 20. Would anyone within the top 50 even accept me?

That entire wall that had been my carefully crafted future - a top grad school, graduate research, possibly a doctorate, working in the research department of a big aerospace company, bringing innovation to the aerospace world - began to come apart in large chunks. I was losing everything I thought I had known about my future. Everything that I had worked for as an aerospace engineer.

The wall finally gave way, and I was left with bits and pieces among the doubts that flowed throughout my mind. Flowed through my mind and apparently out of my eyes. The ones that escaped, though, were immediately replaced by new ones.

Everyone liked to ask the question "what are you doing after you graduate?", and I had readily provided a response, even sometimes including that I was still unsure of where to work after grad school. And then they would say "well, you better figure it out soon, you don't want to be sitting around doing nothing after undergrad. Employers will be even less likely to accept you." Now I had no response. I had no certainty. It was like having a hovering orb of light guiding you along in a swamp vanish from sight, and now you were left to wade through murky waters and fend off creatures of the dark. And outside the swamp, you were uncertain about whether there would be a city, a small town, a tiny cabin, a barren tundra, or a dry desert.

You didn't know how to get out and you didn't know what lay beyond. You could grope for pieces of some now decrepit wall in the darkness, and attempt to get your bearings. But all of a sudden, that seemed incredibly hard to do.

No Fear, No Sleep

It's about 4:15am. Four hours ago, I consumed 3 scoops of Cookies ice cream, 12 chocolate chip cookies, and a No Fear energy drink (Super Energy: Motherload - With 300% of my DV of Vitamins B6, B12, and C!). I really need sleep to stand any chance of operating later today, but I've developed a twitch that's making this a bit difficult.

I've decided the purpose of my Aircraft Flight Dynamics course is to test my ability to stare at a computer screen for extended periods of time. Apparently I need to study, because I'm failing after only 5 hours. If that 7 hour quiz is next week, I am so screwed.

On a positive note: Doing homework by the warm glow of Christmas lights seems to increase my productivity by 32%. If at anytime Youtube appears, productivity decreases by 3000%. Which, if you're doing the math correctly, means that any work I've accomplished beforehand will burst spontaneously into flame with the ashes carried away in a slight breeze. And then a small child in a third world country will stub his toe, causing a small cry of pain to escape him.

Needless to say, there's a lot of quiet sobbing that goes on in my room.

The story of my Monday night

It's an exciting one, I'll have you know...

While laboring away like I usually am at my homework (cough), I suddenly decided that watching youtube videos would be a much better use of my time. It makes perfect sense, right? Right.

Upon entering the site, I immediately dove into my latest fixations: amateur acoustic covers of popular songs and a capella groups. I stumbled across the ridiculously amazing group called Straight No Chaser from Indiana University (*waves at Dani*), and watched a few of their videos. Being the sucker of in-tune human voices and Christmas that I am, my favorite quickly became "12 Days", a rather interesting version of the classic carol we're all taught as wee little ones. Cue video:

If you watch the video, you'll notice they randomly break into this cool minor-ish harmory midway, and lucky for me, someone had commented saying the harmony was from the song "Africa" by Toto. Because I'm a huge nerd and had to have the latest in trendy harmonies (call 1-800-HAR-MONY in the next 15 minutes for the new, wild fifth-progression harmonies seen in all your favorite pop concerts!), I hit up iTunes and did a quick search. The original song was...meh, but what got me blog-post-writtingly excited was a particular result listed further down. Andy McKee, that virtuosic acoustic guitar talent that you probably didn't know about until right now, had transposed the song for acoustic guitar and recorded it.

After applauding the computer moniter and patting myself on the back for coming across such a find, I quickly *legally* downloaded the song (not iTunes...I'll keep my 99 cents, thank you) and set to listening to it 2000 times - that number not being a gross exaggeration. It was good times.

In other news, I have yet to purchase alcohol. And I've been 21 for all of...2 weeks? In college life, this seems like something akin to cardinal sin - embarrassing, I know. But sometime in the near future, there will be a moment when I walk into a bar, flash my shiny "I'm-actually-legal-unlike-half-the-people-in-here" license, and slap down a crisp five for a few drafts. And there will be much rejoicing.

"And then the angels, they did sing. And from the heavens, three mugs dripping with such delightful condensation, they did fall and rest themselves gently upon that happy bar-top. All order was restored, and such was the purchase by our Great Christopher."

I can see it going something like that.


For those of you not in the know --> Colossal Donuts from Shoppers = DBABG (Delicious Bad-ass Bakery Goods). The end.

Thanks for the birthday gift, Commons

A little story for you, as further proof that Maryland loves money:

I wake up the day after my birthday and go through my usual morning checklist: shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, check email, etc. Upon checking my email, I notice a message from the South Campus Commons desk saying I had received a package the day before. Getting any sort of package when you're at school is like winning the lottery, and if it's around your birthday then excitement might as well be oozing out of your pores. So after completing my checklist, I skip down to the desk to pick up my package.

When I arrive and ask for my package, my heart falls a bit when I learn that the package is an envelope. Maybe it's a card? But then why wouldn't they just put it in my mailbox? Is it a really big card? No no, the envelope is normal mailing size, and looks nothing like a birthday card. In fact, it's from South Campus Commons. Did they send birthday wishes?

Their version of birthday wishes, maybe.

I open the envelope and read that I was being charged $10 for checking out a spare key for longer than an hour last week.



When Maryland does birthdays, hoo boy, it goes all out.

Because my eyes told me so

I was browsing online today and found some really incredible photography, and I figured that everyone deserved a break from my babbling. Therefore, I've posted a few pictures from throughout the summer that I thought were pretty swell. Every once in a while I'll chime in with a comment or explanation about the photograph. Hope you enjoy.

A few pics from Home in the backyard. The pooch in the last photo is our yellow lab Nellie.
A few pictures from my various travels from Cinci and back again. That big shiny object is The Bean in Chicago. It's pretty awesome.


From our time in Myrtle Beach. The black and white is a little busy, but if you look closely, you can see the focus on the salt and pepper in the middle. Made me chuckle.

This calls for a warm waffle

This week has somewhat reminded me of a dramatic movie. Plot twists, crushing emotional blows, and deep, startling realizations. And the Terps right now? Not helping.

I write this now as I take a break from watching the CRAP that is the Terps vs. Middle Tennessee on Comcast SportsNet/CSS. The "crap" part refers to both the quality of sports cinematography (oo, big word!) as well as the quality of Maryland's play. Even given the fact that my eyes would probably melt in their sockets if I continued watching the white and blue blobs that are Maryland and MTSU, my new eyes wouldn't be able to survive witnessing the rest of the game anyway. I am in no way a full-out, hardcore football fanatic, but I can see that Maryland is not holding up.

As for this week, I keep finding myself doing that movie moment stare-out-the-window-pondering-life-while-listening-to-soul-reverberating-music kind of thing. Most of this pondering has dealt with the many questions raised during my first days of classes, and the answers seem hard to come by. What do I want my senior year to be like? Am I preparing myself for what's coming after? What do I even want to do afterwards? What happened to those goals I set mid-summer?

What the hell am I doing?

Opportunities keep cropping up that, given a clearer schedule, I would have taken immediately. During my sophomore year, I had wanted to become an official cartoonist for the Diamondback (if you can call the DB official...). Now, when there's a spot open in the paper, I know that the time I would spend drawing would cut into homework, band, or KKPsi.

But being disappointed with my predicament is useless, of course, because my schedule is full of things that I willingly stepped into. That I love. And in this case, sometimes you need to sacrifice one love to be with another. I just hope I'm never asked to make this sacrifice amongst the people in my life.

In other news, the pivotal moment in every college kid's life is coming up for me: the big 2-1 (September 15th!). I'm happy because I'll finally be able to head out to the bars with my friends, but I'm disappointed because it will mean the end of dorm parties and underage excitement. Yes, I was sometimes one of those kids in the booming dorm room down the hall, and those moments were pretty clutch. I guess this is just the passing of another era, and yet another indicator that I'm stepping out of my childhood. Good thing that's not depressing or anything...

Old age and wrinkles aside, I've gotten to know a lot of people during my time at Maryland. They come from every sway of life here on campus, and it's incredibly interesting to see the connections when you step back and look at it all. For me, though, this is almost a problem.

I was never the popular, know-everyone-at-school kid (not to say that I am now). I went through that normal progression in life: a best friend in elementary school, a "posse" in middle school, one or two small gangs in high school. And then college came through, and I was hit with 25,000 opportunities. Band came first, when I spent every waking minute in an oh-so-glorious and confusing early week with 250+ new people. The trumpet section became my first college family. Then came the time when I was released from my band-chains and appeared as a more or less normal freshman on my dorm floor. Everyone on my floor had already bonded, yet I was lucky enough to be included in on some of their floor activities, and eventually became good friends with most of them. 3Cent became my second college family. From there on the list continued to grow: civil engineering friends, aerospace friends, KKPsi and TBS friends, etc.

This wasn't to say that I was suddenly one of those people who knew everyone and would say hi to every living creature on the College Park campus. Because while I met new people and made new friends, my ability to connect with all of them in the same way I had connected with my best friend in elementary school had diminished.

Now I feel almost stretched, and a little unnerved that I won't be able to connect to all those who I would like to be close to. If you've ever spoken to me, you know that words are in no way my strong point. I'm a bit awkward and tend to trip over words if I can get them out in the first place.

It is my hope, though, that my senior year will allow me insight on making the connections I need.

Hope you're all well, and I look forward to blogging for you again soon. A little less on the deep side, maybe? Heh.

Month's Vacation

So it's definitely been awhile. Can't say I meant to take such a long break from the blog, but I guess the flurry of events that was August led me astray.

So, where to begin...

Life, as of now, is ridiculous. I can't remember a time in my 20 years where I have been more busy than this past week, and I'm happy to report that I've come out on the other side with all of my limbs still attached. Just barely.

This past week, for all you non-band folk, was something called Early Week. It officially began on Friday, August 22nd when we had a morning of early week registration, followed by a few music sectionals and full ensemble rehearsals. From there on out it was band all-day, everyday. You chuckle, but this isn't a joke. Here was my schedule for that week:

6am - Wake up. Roll out of bed. Hit the floor and decide whether those newly broken ribs are worth getting up into the shower.

7am - Breakfast at the South Campus Diner. Eat half a bagel. Think of writing a letter to the NSA with new ideas for torturing prisoners.

8am - Morning marching rehearsal on Chapel Field begins! Cue random dance parties. Also cue death stares from half the band for suggesting such an atrocity.

11:30am - Wrap up marching rehearsal and shuffle towards lunch at the Diner. Contemplate where would be the best place to pass out in the band office. Settle on the small space under one of the computer desks. Awaken from your day dream to the tapping of 200+ plastic utensils on trays and chairs. Conduct the Alma Mater in the middle of the diner, and chuckle as confused non-marchers stand up and place their hands over their hearts.

1pm - Back in CSPAC for indoor music rehearsals. Realize that napping is impossible when you're given a list of 20 things to do. At least you're busy?

4:30pm - Off to dinner. Decide that you could deal without diner food for a while. AKA when you run out of food in your fridge in the apartment. Conduct the fight song in the middle of the diner. Snort when some random non-band kid says "I thought that was Victory..."

6pm - On Chapel Field for evening marching rehearsal. Run through each set of halftime 300+ times. Bust out glowsticks around 7:30 so people can see you waving your arms. Suppress the urge to rave with said glowsticks.

8:30pm - Head back up to CSPAC for meetings, fittings, etc.

12:30am - Get back to the apartment.

1am - Pass out.

6am the next day - Begin it all over again.

Good times? Early week certainly had it's ups and downs, but the passing of our first game against University of Delaware brought an incredible finality to the entire situation. I was very excited to have half my family on my mom's side come down to see me during my public drum-major-debut (albeit they did cheer for Delaware...). A little nerve-wracking, but very cool all the same. Also, for those of you not in band who were oh-so-curious about us not marching halftime, much less not wearing coats; we had about 12 people go down from the heat before halftime even started. And honestly, having another dozen pass-out during or after halftime probably would not have benefited us. Just a thought.

So for all of you who were indignant that the band did not march because hey, they're a marching band. that's their job! WTF?, I would 1.) Like to offer my uniform to you to perform that show after a week of exhaustion + that humidity, and 2.) Like to point out that I probably saw you sitting down during the game come halftime. Actually, I know I did. Poor kid, you must have been so hot. Having to stand there and cheer? Tough job, my friend.

Bitter thoughts aside, this past week was an experience, and I am extremely excited for classes to start. This semester I'll have 5 aerospace classes and 2 band classes for a total of 17 credits, which is the smallest amount I've had since freshman year. Heck yes.

In other news....wait...there is no other news. Band is my life. Well then...

I'll be a better blogger from now on, I swear!

Quick note

I've changed the url of this blog to cpandreality.blogspot.com. This isn't really a response to anything in particular; I've just come to realize that most bloggers don't use their full names. Using mine makes me feel a wee bit vulnerable, so I've changed it.

Hopefully, this will not deter anyone from reading, though, as I welcome friends and strangers alike. Thoughts and comments are always good too! Special thanks to everyone who's commented so far.

A summer in reflection

Before the beginning of last summer, I told several of my engineering friends that I would use my internship at the Maryland Transportation Authority as a determining factor in my decision to stick with civil engineering. The internship was...interesting, but seemingly not enough to keep me on the path to bridge-building. I switched to aerospace engineering by the end of that next fall semester.

I had also told these same engineering friends that I would want to pick up an aerospace engineering internship the following summer to determine my interests in aerospace. I was fortunate enough to interview for a position at GE Aviation and accept an offer for this summer. And the internship, as it now winds down, has taught me a few things about where I want to go with my aerospace engineering degree. One aspect, though, always seems to crop up when I review my summer internship career:

I hate Excel.

Well, maybe not "hate", or else I would probably shudder with rage and disgust every time I was asked to perform a cost analysis via spreadsheet. But I am quite aware that if Excel were to digitally implode for the next several months, I would mourn for only a short amount of time. Very short. 10 seconds? Enough to sadly embrace the fact that almost every large business in the US was currently scrambling in a panicked and chaotic manner. (*end sadistic thoughts towards large companies*)

I expect Excel appears a great deal in every internship (at least the engineering ones), because the brevity of an internship as well as the lack of knowledge concerning engineering practices. In my department here at GE, Excel is critically important for all part information book-keeping. A little less of Excel, though, would not be a bad thing for me. Or at least, a little less of 3000+ engine parts lists.



If you had the opportunity to read my last post, you would probably have noticed it was a rant (something that NEVER happens in this blog *cough sarcasm cough*). That particular post was written seconds/minutes after checking my financial status online. Therefore, it was spurred purely by my emotion at that particular moment. While I do put some effort in to filtering my content for this blog, I do sometimes have my moments where I will say exactly what I am thinking at that time.

This sometimes - err...I guess more than that - leads to long, rant-like, complaining posts. And I'll usually label them accordingly in the heading. So when or if you happen upon that post, you'll know what you're getting yourself into. I had a friend say that this blog was my outlet for "creative bitching", and I completely agree. I *hope* I rarely say those types of things out loud, and if I do, I give permission to the listener to dunk my head in a vat of jet engine fuel. If you don't have that handy, then I'll settle for McDonald's french-fry oil.

But. These posts are not meant to evoke pity or anger at my situation, and are here merely for me to release whatever I have inside and for the reader to be entertained. Whether entertainment actually occurs is another thing.

I am by no means perfect.
I am by no means a failure.
If you choose to judge myself or my situation through this blog, then I can't stop you. But remember what this blog is, and that I am more than the words that form it.


Entirely random side note: I just came back from a meeting where we all got free Wendy's Frosties during the presentations. I'm still not sure why all meetings aren't like this.

Because this blog is where I go to complain.

If you're on the University of Maryland campus for long enough, you may hear a popular saying about the school. It goes, more or less, like this:

"When the University of Maryland graduates a virgin, pigs will fly. Because even if you've managed to make it through your years without having sex, you'll still end up getting raped by the university one way or another."

It may sound brash and immature, but this saying speaks a lot of truth to a majority of the students, usually on the topic on finances. UMD loves its money, and will seemingly do anything in its power to dip into your pockets and pick them dry.

This is not to say that the University of Maryland is a bad school. It is, in fact, a phenomenal university, with some of the top programs in the world and a fantastic student population. Students will attest to this, but they will also tell you that Maryland has - at one point or another - managed to charge them in some unreasonable fashion or has been stingy with that ever growing pot of change it keeps from tuition and fundraising. Even with the over 25,000 undergraduates currently attending or entering the university, Maryland has sufficient funds (cough millions cough) to provide them all with some sort of scholarship. So if you were to factor in those who actually apply for scholarships and their credentials, the candidates needing money would decrease and the funding to each student would increase. I'm not going crazy, right?

So let's hear the story of student for this semester.
This student came in fairly sure he would be a civil engineer, but after learning more about aerospace, eventually decided to pick up an aerospace engineering minor (gee golly, who could this be???). He had mantained a 3.86 GPA up through sophomore year, and was now entering his first semester, junior year with 20 credits. These classes were split between civil, aerospace, and band. It was going to be a rough semester, but hopefully worth it.
Upon starting the semester, this student decided to pledge an organization that he had been curious about and admired for some time. He was told that the workload of that pledge process would be great, and balancing this amongst classes and other responsibilities would be a tremendous challenge. This student managed to survive the semester, and came out as a brother.
This student also came out with a C- in one class and a 3.4 semester GPA.
Although the damage to his GPA had been done, this student was still happy, because he was now a member of that admired organization. And he knew that he had three more semesters to pick up his GPA and come out alright. The next semester he dropped civil engineering to become fully aerospace, and balanced a lighter credit-load (18) with his new responsibilities in the organization. He also took the time to join another organization, this one focused more towards his career and major. He clawed out of the semester with a 3.65 GPA, which now brought his cumulative GPA to 3.74.

By just looking at the student's transcript, you would see that his GPA took a nosedive junior year, which is one of the more critical times for a college student. You would also see that his resume would be updated with a few more bullets under the "activities" category. And unless you talked to the student, that's all you would see. Unless you shared several hours of conversation with the student, which is what it would take to relay his year of experiences, you would just see those two papers. Your image of that student would be numbers and bullets.

And then you would make an important decision for that student - say, his financial standing for the next year. You would decide how much financial assistance to give him based on your "detailed" account of his college career. Oh, and that paragraph in his scholarship application about his "education and career goals in engineering." Nevermind the fact that some students have lives outside their majors that go beyond what they can fit on a single-page resume. That maybe a entire part of their lives has been dedicated to something beyond engineering or science or math or physics, something that would not necessarily boost their careers. They had made a choice to follow a passion and ultimately succeed in that area, but take a hit in GPA. And then they were given no way to relay that experience, life-changing or otherwise, to those who made the university's financial decisions. Because did the university care what you did outside your major and career? In the end, did the university see a student who had taken risks, reaped the benefits and hefted the losses for a passion, or a student who had the potential to become a big name and put the university on the map as "producer of the successful"?

Here's the end of this student's story, at least for now. This student applied for scholarships. He found out that the university, in their ever-so-philanthropic way, had increased his loans to help cover the costs. Those loans that he would HAVE to pay anyway - the university decided he should have more. And then they tagged on a little scholarship at the end, as if to say "look, we sorta care, but we would've cared more had you just done engineering."


I get how and why the university works. It can't take every opportunity to stop and review the entire college career of every student here - it needs to make decisions in an efficient manner. The university is run like a business.

But that doesn't stop me from feeling a little disappointed now and again.

This is how my workday ends

A conversation I had with a friend from Maryland who also works at GE. This was over a program called Sametime, which is like the AIM of big companies. We are both very hard at work at this point, quite obviously...


Mary
i haven't had yogurt since in about 15 years...

so i don't know if i like it

Christopher
im about to utter an over-used saying

but "you won't like it until you try it"

Mary
*lalalal*


sorry i couldn't hear you

Christopher
nope nope, you heard it

i said...

YOU WONT LIKE IT UNTIL YOU TRY IT

making me yell...

Mary
stop yelling!

you're distracting my co workers

Christopher
I'm going to find out Brian's last name and make him actually yell it at you

that would be hilarious

Mary
haha i could see him saying it

and being really confused

Christopher
and you'd be all "whaa? how di...wha?"

and then you would both scratch your heads and I...

I would WIN

Mary
NO

you can't keep winning

that's not how the game works

Christopher
beatin you at your own game

Mary
i want to play a new game

Christopher
too late

Mary
i'm going to make new rules

Christopher
you'll never win

Mary
since you broke all the last ones

Christopher
shattered them with my glory

Mary
i'm pretty good at gluing things together

i can repair them

Christopher
you can bet I'm better at gluing things...together

actually, during enes100

Mary
hahaha

Christopher
I glued my fingers together

Mary
greatest accomplishment?

Christopher
with that super-strong modelling glue.

Mary
was it painful to get them apart?

Christopher
needless to say it took 20 minutes of weedling with a flat-head screwdriver to get them apart

Mary
oh wow

Christopher
a bit, yes

Mary
i'm not going to count that as being good at something...

i'm going to count that as... your own fault

Christopher
don't be jealous.



Nothing special, just the marking of a regular workday at GE.

*Just kidding, GE. I do lots of work! Really! But, I mean, at 3:30pm, when you're going home in about half an hour? I may not be all there.... but you should keep paying me!*

Chalk another one up for the Recall List

It's funny how, when you're waiting for several things to happen that could be mildly exciting or enjoyable, they all seem to collide at once, thus making one or all of them inconvenient. Let me give you an example.

I have been waiting for some time now to see The Dark Knight. Everytime I would see a trailer on tv, I would giggle like a little schoolgirl and clap my hands enthusiastically. It looked really good. At work, I've been waiting (slighly less enthusiastically) to drive out to our testing facility and monitor a test. I thought it'd be all swell and dandy to leave work early, drive an 1.5 hours, monitor a test for an hour, and drive back. And then have the IRS reimburse me for each mile I drove. So while I would go through less than half a tank of gas to drive ~160 miles, I would make $0.505 per mile - or over $90. Nice, yes?

Fast foward to Thursday, where I'm looking at plans to sit in a cool theater and watch DK right after work and the chance to drive over to out test facility tomorrow. I'm happy. And then I find out they're probably going to test Thursday afternoon, and Chris, you'll be the one heading up. Damn.

I mean, I can always go to the movies later right? It's just one of those moments where life goes "oh, hey, wait-a-minute. You might be enjoying yourself a little too much there. I'm gonna, you know, turn that down a little bit."

At the moment, as I wait for the go-ahead to head off to test, I'm eating some delicious popcorn and probably annoying the bejesus out of everyone around me with my cacophony o' crunching. To make this popcorn even more lively than it already was in its fresh-outta-bag state, I purchased a powdery "popcorn seasoning" (Ranch flavored!) in hopes of making my popcorn experience extraordinary.

The taste of the seasoning is good. Real good. As in, I may have just licked the plate to get that extra ranchy-goodness. Something that detracts from the joy of my tasty seasoning is that fact that, like powdered sugar, if you happen to do that thing called breathing while you eat the popcorn, you're going to get a lung-full of powdery Ranch Delight. And then the following sharp release of air that follows exits through your nose, and all the ranchy particles act like some abrasive, snorted drug. I had several instances where this happened, and three seconds later, I'm coughing and gagging in my chair and my nose is stinging like I just took a hit of crack. Let's just say that there's probably a reason they don't sell much of these seasonings. (might explain why they were fully stocked)



Let's also just say that if I were to snort anything again, it would be that seasoning. Cause nothing beats a ranch-induced high.

note: I did not actually get a "high" from the seasoning, although some of it may have reached my brain. You may notice little ranch-style additions to my writing in the future, 'cause I'm pretty sure that's how it works. God forbid if I had snorted cayenne....

Oh, to be an engineer

Sometimes while talking with college friends, we joke about how students with different majors lead completely different lifestyles during school. And then we come to the sad realization that a student's choice of major has a huge effect on their personality, actions, and social calendar...and engineers got shafted.

Don't get me wrong, I chose to be an engineer and was given fair warning of the workload to come. But what I wasn't warned about was how all the non-science majors would spend their warm spring days out by the pool and cold wintry days out in the snow during the semester. And I would get to watch them through my bedroom window, as I suppressed a twitch that had been building from the lack of sleep for the past several months.

Whatever though. People do what they want, and it's not my place to go "Everyone sucks because they don't work as hard as engineers." Because in many cases, that isn't true.

My real reason for bringing up the topic of majors and lifestyles is that fact that I've accumulated a list of behaviors I catch myself doing that I'm certain non-engineers (and sometimes just non-science majors) don't do. Here are a few that some of you fellow engineers might identify with:

- I get frustrated when I can't rotate things in 3-D on my computer by clicking and dragging. Case-in-point, when I tried to rotate this blog page to get to my email. And it didn't work. And for several seconds I thought there was something seriously wrong with my computer.

- I think it's completely normal to go to bed at 2 or 3 AM. During the school year, I will actually plan my nights up to 3:30AM, and then think "but I need to go to bed by 4." Which leads us to...

- Getting only 4 hours of sleep a night no longer bothers me. If I get 6, I'm happy. If it's 8 or more, I either just took an exam or I'm on break.

- I think going out more than once a week is excessive. I will usually argue with anyone who tries to convince me otherwise because "I have too much work. I need to do work. LET ME DO WORK." Although there are cases where I throw a "oh hell" and just go out again. This almost always turns out to be a bad idea though.

- Over- and under-eating happens. It's normal. During finals week, I will either A.) Forget that my body needs food, or B.) Buy a bucket of cookie dough. Surprisingly, neither option ends well.

- I get a supreme sense of joy from completing any problem with calculus. If calculus was a person, I would marry it. And we would lie tangent to each other's curves all night...

- I've had dreams that I forgot my TI-84 Plus and didn't have it for class. And these dreams were actually nightmares. To the point where I woke up in a cold sweat. Also, when I do forget my calculator somewhere, I suddenly feel naked and extremely paranoid that someone will jump out of the bushes and ask me to perform intense calculations. This is not a joke.

- At least half of the conversations I have with fellow engineers are about science, math, or engineering. Almost any philosophical conversation we have will turn into something scientific. Conversations that involve being social will die or just don't exist. Usually, they'll trail-off in a series of mumbles and awkward feet shuffling.

- Dating means I have less time for engineering. And, honestly, it scares me. I'm already married to my major, and I have a hard enough time keeping it happy.

Those are just a few, although if you ask any engineer I'm sure they could give you quite a bit more.


Note to all the engineers: I'm in the process of coming up with a gang-sign. It will probably involve a graphing calculator or pi.

"Hyperbo-WHAT UP FOO'S?!"
*shiny calculators around our necks gleam in the sun*

When nothing makes sense

I would like to mark today as an important day. For today is the pinnacle of my absolute confusion and frustration in deciding what I want to do for the rest of my life. To the point where I would like nothing more than to leave the office and sit in my apartment sulking and contemplating. This frustration (you'll notice I use this word a lot on the blog - mainly because I'm ALWAYS FRUSTRATED) stems from a variety of reasons. Let's review them:

1.) I've had "notions" for what I've wanted in a career, most of them revolving around some sort of engineering. Past notions have included building skyscrapers, roller coasters, fighter jets, dynamic architecture, bridges, and supersonic transports. Lately I've been fixated by supersonic transports and roller coasters. Today I spent half an hour during my lunch break looking up roller coaster design companies and reviewing their various accomplishments.

2.) I want to be a creative problem solver. The kind that comes of with new and innovative ways to do things. Fresh designs and ideas, crazy things you'd never think of. Mostly, I want to apply these innovations on a large scale; not just some little BRAND NEW POLISHED METALLIC FINISH 8 SETTINGS appliance. Something that will make people stop and go "Wow, that's amazing. I wonder who thought/designed/developed/constructed that" (you all know you think in slashes).

3.) I want to make money. A significant amount of money. And when I say significant, I mean that I would one day like to make above $150k. Well above would be nice. Significantly above would be preferable. Enough to pay for a quality city apartment and an ASTON MARTIN DBS gahhhh *drools*. I mean, I wouldn't even need to buy the car - hovering at $220k-$260k for now - right off. I would be willing to make payments. Look how not-greedy I am! But the fact that I need a DBS is pretty much a given.

4.) I'm impatient. I see people in this company (GE Aviation for those of you just joining us. Up next we'll head to Logan, Utah to see quite an amazing squirrel perform aerial acrobatics! Just after this.) who have worked here for 5-10 years and are still sitting in cubicles doing what they've always done. And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to do that. Just the thought of sticking with a single company for 10 years - equivalent to HALF OF MY LIFE - is almost ludicrous. Ten years of working, no less. The working where you head off from your home at 7am and get back at 5pm for 5 days a week for 48 weeks in a year IF you're lucky enough to get 4 weeks paid vacation. Also, when ten years is up, where are you? You're officially an adult, with responsibilities and kids and a lawn to mow in the evening. And you've just missed your 20s. As of right now, when I can barely handle the basics of life in the working world, this notion completely blows me over.

If you'll notice, a lot of these reasons seem to clash. And by "seem to clash", I actually mean "create an epically bloody-battle for the fate of the universe and the restoration of peace." The aerospace industry is quite high paying (woo, I'm on the right track!), but those high salary spots usually involve a cubicle. For long years. And slowly working your way up in management. The creative problem solving positions delve more into research, which in all honesty wouldn't be that bad. Except researchers do not hold the highest salaries and often only get to see a few of their slaved-over subjects and ideas come to a large-scale, physical fruition (in the case of larger infrastructure projects). Meaning that the term "fruits-of-your-labor" could result in you only holding one or two apples *....mmmmmmm*.

The job of roller coaster designer/engineer, one which I have contemplated since the beginning of high school, has unravelled quite the complex issue for me. We've all seen the newest in tall, fast, and innovative coasters that provide the thrill of a life time. But the more I've researched, the more I've seen how amusement park companies only put out a few of those extreme coasters; the rest being cookie-cutter thrill rides that pop up in all the big amusement parks. MORE research revealed to me that a roller coaster designer's salary is between $45k-$80k - a salary that would certainly provide a comfortable lifestyle, but not exactly the one I'm looking for. Needless to say, my research today was a little frustrating.

Yes, I know I'm picky and have probably set my career goals a bit high, but in order to find out exactly what I want to do in life, I need to establish all of the requirements that would fit my perfect job and work from there. The task, as it stands now, seems almost impossible. Which then makes it even more difficult for me to decide what I want to do my graduate schooling in (at least I know I'm going) or where to apply.

Therefore, I'm lost. Completely lost.


As it seems, advice like "follow your heart" won't cut it when your heart doesn't have enough information to make a decision that affects the rest of your life.

Too Much Quiet Reflection...

...usually means I'm at work. And avoiding my responsibilities.

Just felt like throwing an update out there for all of those who feel like keeping abreast in my life. (What do you mean no one cares? Don't you care? Why are you laughing like that?)

Friday: K and I get out of work around noon and start our drive to good ol' COLLA PARK WHAT (CPW). Nine hours later we actually make it to CPW and head-off to celebrate the 21st of the infamous Shub. Festivities include a bit of awkward small talk and hanging with some Maryland Imagers (sike those guys were crazy) before heading over to Turtle, where we party and dance (READER: Whoa whoa waitaminute, you were dancing?? CHRIS: It was dark enough for everyone to think my convulsions were dancing. READER: Ahh, ok. That makes sense.). Time we leave Turtle? 2:45 am. Yeah, you heard me.

Saturday: I roll out of bed around 11 or 12 and scoot over to Bagel Place with K and Shub. Afterwards, I sit in my room and enjoy youtube, facebook, and the like for the first time in 1.5 months. It' s a beautiful thing *single tear*. After some quality Kimmy and Phil's (that place next to 7-Eleven) and Coldstone, I make my way over to Courtyards to celebrate yet another birthday - this time only 20th. Tick off a couple of hours and a few of us head over to my Big Bro's house where I meet my GrandBig for the first time (real chill dude) and have an awesome time.

Sunday: I find my way to back my apartment and continue sleeping where I left-off, and then very slowly get up for a quick lunch before hitting the road again for Cinci. 9+ hours, pt. II, and we're back in O-high-O. O-joy-O (NOT).

Monday was our summer co-op picnic here at GE, which means I got to miss the ENTIRE day to listen to some of our severely well-paid directors/leaders speak and then eat hot-hogs and play corn-hole for the rest of day. Seriously, if I got paid for that everyday, I'd have no problem waking up at 6-something each morning. Heck, I'd even wake up at 4.

Sidenote: A fellow co-op turned me on to a contraption I've never seen before called a RipStik. It's sort of like a skateboard, only with just two wheels that are attached with ball-bearings and two different platforms that can lean in different directions. To ride it, you basically have to somehow simultaneously balance and give yourself some initial propulsion, then weave or wiggle your hips to drive yourself forward. So basically it's nothing like a skateboard, but, you know.....ehh, just look it up. But after seeing it in action and *attempting* to ride it, I am very close to buying one of my own. The $77 price-tag, though, is a bit off-putting...



Which is why I just spent the last half an hour reworking my summer budget! Creative thinking + organization = CHRIS GETS WHAT HE WANTS.

Frustration

You'll have to excuse me while I deviate from the usually Thursday format. At least, just for now.

This morning, as I was preparing to head out the door for work, I was inspired by a few bars of music. Something random that I had probably heard within the past couple of months, and which had managed to stick for whatever reason. But here I am, searching about the apartment for my keys, and this part of a song crops up.

The song, in a vain attempt to describe music with words, goes something like this:
It's a progression of fifths or sixths walking up a major scale, I think occasionally switching back and forth between the two to keep the major theme going. And as it progresses upwards, the music itself builds and increases in intensity/volume. So at the very end, just before it fades into some minor conclusion, there's the tremultuous peak of pure, solid tone. Of course, me being the nerd I am, this peak made me incredibly giddy when I heard it.

The song seemed to play itself over and over in my head this morning, as if an unknown figure had somehow invaded my brain and quietly placed a looping tape recorder there. Instead of doing what normal people do when this happens - namely try to remember where the song came from - I began to assemble lyrics to the music. The song, as I can now recall my first experience hearing it, has no words. It just has a tone, and from what I could gather from my sluggishly mobilized mind this morning, a feeling of profound emotion.

I can no longer recall those lyrics, although I do remember that the theme of the song was either being 25 or turning 25, reflecting on the previous years, and singing of disappointment to some long-gone girl. I had the powerful urge to somehow record this vague shape of a Billboard-Number-One-To-Be, but being on my way out the door, had no way to do it. And also I didnt have a piano. And also I cant sing.

Which left me plenty frustrated when I finally arrived at the office, unable to get the song out of my head and unable to record it lest I wanted to return to it later. Which is what happened precisely half an hour ago when I 1.) Remembered where the music had come from (a video I had watched three trillion times last semester. It was one of those SWEET HOLY JESUS THIS IS AMAZING videos), and 2.) Remembered I had created a full-on masterpiece of a song out of it this morning. But, of course, I could no longer remember how the song went or the lyrics.

So now I'm sitting here, flustered that I can't remember anything, and sure that whatever remains of my masterpiece that I'm attempting to piece together now is incorrect/doesn't sound the same.

For all you musicians out there, you know that musical frustration is the most mind-numbingly painful thing in the world. Something akin to having a limb removed, if I had to guess...

Happy 31st!

Upon logging in, I came to the stunning realization that this would be my thirty-first post. Thirty-first. Which, in actuality, is not recognized as any remarkable achievement. Twenty maybe, or fifty. Perhaps at one-hundred I'll even throw a small fiesta. The big three-one, though, usually holds no bearing.

But here I was, recognizing my thirty-first post as something significant. I had sat down thirty-one times to type gibberish which I hoped would relay some sort of meaning to a reader. There were probably times where the reader would sit down and nod in agreement when rifling through this blog, and others where they would choke on their Diet Coke and thoughts like this is madness! would crop up. In either case though, I had succeeded. Mission accomplished?

While the gibberish may have been more or less just that for you as the reader, these blog posts have opened up a little self-exploration on the giving end. Something I had not initially intended, because I was/am no monk set out on a meditative discovery of internal truths. I created this blog as a chance to voice a...well, voice, that may not usually be heard in an audible sense. Or not in the way that I would intend (listen to me *attempt* to talk and you'll get the picture). In my quest to come up with post topics, I've been forced to dive for material and have in-the-process made some exciting *cough* discoveries. And then I've posted them for all the world to, erm...decipher.

So now I sit here and stare at a discovery of discoveries. And occasionally correct spelling errors. And then realize why the thirty-first post is so significant: because it's forced me to see what this blog was, currently is, and will become.

There are few times (HA) when we have the opportunity to visualize all three orientations in time. Reading about an event that has already happened qualifies as visualizing the past; yet said reading imparts the past on us at the present moment...or does it? Making a to-do list creates a possible future, but that future is occurring presently in our minds. Which then brings up an entirely new dilemma: Words will always be the past and future, never the present.

Sure, there are stories written in ways that make it seem as if the plot is unfolding around us as we read, and each verb is carefully chosen in the present tense. But in the time when the light from the page has brought the shape of a word through your eyes and into your brain and your brain has almost instantaneously matched that shape to a meaning, the word has already reached the past. The nature of physics prevents us from ever reading in the present time, because every action requires an amount of time greater than zero.

Historical events may be recorded, to-do lists and plans may be written down, but no literature can exist in the present.

As I wrote that, I heard from all two of you who read this blog the internal scream of rebuttal. You have probably, in the seconds upon reading that last statement, formed some argument against my musings along the lines of "Live for the moment!" or "At the time that you wrote this post it was the present and when I read it it was the present and when I think this idea it is the present and blah blah blah." And such is the nature of the human mind. Just remember, this blog is - until such a moment when I decide the change the direction of my writing - a place for simple musings and unintended self-discoveries.

So, to recap and oversimplify...Happy 31st everyone! And congrats if you made it through this post without throttling the nearest object. God-forbid you actually did throttle something, and that something turned out to be a person. Although that would be slightly amusing.

Things you shouldn't do in the office...

• Eat deliciously juicy peaches. Slurping sounds + Flowing juices = Take it outside.

THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID.

• Repeat your name loudly five times into the headset until you realize that no one in the teleconference will hear you with the mute button on. And everyone in the office will.
• Nod-off at your desk and make noises like "waaGGAA" when you jerk awake again.
• Open your bag of Doritos with enough force to create a small, cheesy explosion and a sound like cars being compacted.
• Attempt to roll from one end of your desk to the other in your wheely-chair when there's a very solid column in the way.
• Write in your blog when you should be working....

NOT.

RDTSFCM Thursdays (#2)

John: That kid in the corner is snickering again. What's his problem?

George: He's snickering? I thought he was just exhaling in exaggerated and partially stifled ways.

John: Yes. That's exactly we he's doing. Normal people, though, sometimes call this "laughing".

George: Well I wonder what he's laughing at then. It could be that bracket redesign PowerPoint we saw this morning. Fred did misspell "pylon"...heh.

John: Yeah, those 12 minutes following that slide when you were laughing uncontrollably and everyone else shot you concerned glances and awkwardly tried to continue with the presentation were real hysterical.

George: But he spelled it PILON! HA.

John: OOOH ok. The way you just said it definitely lets me know that he used an actual vowel instead of the usual vowel/consonant line-dwindler.

George: What?

John: Go back to reading your comics.

George: Silly Calvin and Hobbs...

John: That kid's outbursts are really starting to tick me off!

George: In this one they're walking through the woods-

John: Doesn't he know that work hours are for ACTUAL WORK?

George: And Calvin accidentally slips on a rock and rolls down a hill, dragging Hobbs with him..

John: You can't just sit there and read funny stuff on the internet all day. Overpaid little...

George: And when they get to the bottom, Hobbs goes "It's hard to pick you up after a fall if you take me down with you."

John: I think I'm going to toss this bottle of white-out at him to see if he'll take the hint to get back to work.

George: Hehe. You know, because Calvin pulled him down the hill too?

John: That grunt didn't sound like him...

George: Oh yeah, I just saw Bill from corporate head in there to talk to the kid.

John: *....*

George: I miss my stuffed animals...Do you think they're serving fried steak in the cafeteria again today?



Fun life update: I'm headed to Chicago for the Independence Day weekend. Should be good times. And, hopefully, I'll have the chance to go HOME HOME the following weekend. Colla Park, get ready - I'm for serious this time.

If only I had a window to gaze out of...

Remember when I spent the summer not sitting in a cubicle? Because I do, although those memories are currently being driven out of my brain by recently stored memories of staring at a laptop and some short, beige fabric-covered walls. Oh, and the one with the growing pool of blood on my desk from repeatedly smashing my forehead against it. That was a fun time. (thanks Excel! NOT)

New realities and overly-exaggerated stories aside, my blog is being ridiculous. And not in that good "hey we should be friends because you seem fun and exciting" way. More like "when I check my blog I'm always taken to that one post I wrote weeks ago and dont care reading again FOR THE BILLIONTH TIME." So if you happen to find yourself reading this particular shenanigan of a post instead of an older one that appears automatically, congrats. If not, I am currently sending you instructions telepathically to keep clicking the "2008" button under "Archives" until no new posts materialize. This should prove interesting though, considering my telepathic powers are usually limited to hearing Lassie go "Umm, Timmy's stuck in a well again. Instead of saving him, you should probably look into having another child. Just sayin."

Bloggateering has become somewhat of a respite from the workday for me during lunch. Nevermind that whole social interaction with co-workers and seeing sunlight business that the others do. No, I sit and read blogs and guffaw awkwardly in my cubicle and then make vain attempts at posting something partially comprehensible here. And then fail at life. Which actually isnt hard for me to do, considering I like to set high goals for myself along the lines of "Earn a salary of over $1,000,000 within the next several years" and "Learn how to read." I think "Become President of the US" was on that list at some time, but then I decided that a.) the presidential salary is too low, and b.) I'd probably have to talk to and/or interact with people in that job. And we all know how that turns out. (*awkward silence shuffle feet awkward silence*)

Here's a funny bit of a blog that I like to frequent whilst munching on baby carrots:

I had to buy this apricot-flavored toothpaste. Had to. When has there ever been fruit-flavored toothpaste, ever? And why not? Companies are forced to constantly “innovate” in order to stay relevant and exciting to consumers, so we get Giger-designed toothbrushes and glitter embedded in the toothpaste and tubes that stand on end — but where’s the flavor innovation?

I’m thinking the problem is that apricot doesn’t make your mouth minty fresh, and in today’s fast-paced modern hectic cutthroat world, Burning Mintiness = Violently Annihilated Halitosis. Apricot can’t deal with today’s fast-paced modern bacteria, no way. I mean, is an apricot even a full-fledged fruit? Is it even American?

I just bored myself with that paragraph. I’ve been doing that a lot in conversation, too, just slowing down mid-sentence and finally giving up, losing all interest in what I was saying and kind of drifting off. It’s like

Last paragraph: I SO DO THAT.