Friday, September 12, 2003

I have been in a bitter mood today. One of my friends emailed me yesterday with some news that added to my increasing lack of hope for humanity. Several months ago a one of her friends had been drugged and rapped by two guys that she had thought were friends. From what I understand, the girl was messed up pretty bad in the head afterwards (who wouldn’t be?). Anyway, she didn’t press charges with the police because one of the DA’s told her parents that, because the drugs don’t show up in tests, it is nearly impossible to get a conviction for. She did want them kicked out of school, so she filed to have a hearing with her college tribunal. Unfortunately, one of the rapists parents was a high dollar contributor to the school, and the two little shits were aquitted. My friend’s friend ended up quitting school the other day so that she wouldn’t have to risk bumping into the two guys. I have no idea why I am rambling about this…I have no comments about it because I am so utterly disgusted by the whole situation…

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Thursday, September 11, 2003

Yeah, apparently I am a tough guy. I've never been prone to bursts of violence before but i do like to argue...and, when I really like a girl I guess I become a big softy...but don't tell anyone... What Anime Stereotype Are You?

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Reflections

I remember waking up and fumbling with an angry alarm clock. Turning the dial two notches so the police like siren ceased and the soothing, monotone voices of NPR filled my bed stand. I rolled back into bed. The voice on the radio reported that a plane crashed into the World Trade Center. I remember walking to my shower, vaguely wondering how large of a plane it was. I finished my shower and poured a bowl of Captain Crunch cereal, clicking the remote control to power on my television. On the news, a reporter stood in front of a smoking world trade center. My first thought was that I had been wrong on my assumption that it was a small plane. My second thought was one of panic. My Dad’s New York Branch was in Tower One. Was he there? He usually has to fly to New York every four or five weeks. I picked up the phone and dialed my parent’s phone number; my eyes never left the television. As I listened to a slow ring tone I watched as a second plane slam into the world trade center. My dad picked up the phone and I was instantly relieved. He had made his monthly trek to NYC the previous week, and fate, God, angels, whatever you choose to believe in, spared him from the horrors of September 9. Unfortunately many of his co-workers were not so lucky, nearly two hundred perished that morning. Looking back two years I wonder how much we learned from September 11th. Usual political squabbles set aside, most of our leaders agree that Americans are much safer today than we were two years ago. Still, too few of us take the threat of additional terrorism seriously. While we expect something horrible to happen, most of us don’t expect it to happen to us…but I guess the most you can ever do is prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

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Wednesday, September 10, 2003

Hi-Fi Randomness

I watched Hi-Fidelity last night. It has been nearly two years since I last saw it, so I bought it from Columbia House and it finally arrived yesterday. I love Jack Black’s rendition of “Lets Get It On”…he does it exceptionally well, yet also makes it humorous by placing a tremendous accent on certain phrases, it never fails to make me laugh (even when I am sitting all alone in my apartment). When I first started posting, I tried to create a weekly Top Five thread but some jokers kept turning it into a spam fest. Anyway, if you haven’t seen Hi-Fidelity, check it out, it is on my top five list of movies that I can watch over and over again. Which brings me to… The Top Five Movies I Can Watch Over and Over Again List 1. The Big Lebowski- This movie is hysterical. Both Jeff Bridges and John Goodman give the best performances of their career, plus Flea plays a nihilist in the movie. 2. Enter the Dragon- I can watch this movie over and over again without ever getting bored of watch Bruce Lee kicking ass. 3. Batman- The best movie made based on a comic book, although I still don’t understand Nicholson’s line “Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moon light?” 4. Hi-Fidelity- I just like this movie a lot for no apparent reason. Every now and then this movie fluctuates on and off the list with Grosse Point Blank takes its place. 5. Caddy Shack- The dialogue in this movie is great, I also love any movie with Rodney Dangerfield, he reminds me of my Grandpa…this movie fluctuates on and off this list with Trading Places. I was working on sketching women in an anime type style last night, and I ended up drawing Adams Angels. Unfortunatly I messed the shading up a little bit, I was distracted by Hi-Fidelity and it came out kinda blah! I’ll try and draw them again tonight or tomorrow and get to a scanner this weekend to post it...

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Tuesday, September 9, 2003

I hate indecisive women. The last half dozen or so girls that I’ve dated all seem to have this characteristic, and it drives me insane. What movie do you want to see? I don’t know. Where do you want to go to eat dinner? I don’t care. Do you want to get together tonight? Sure. What do you want to do? I don’t know. If it wasn’t for the handful of opinionated women that I know, I would have long ago come to the conclusion that women are incapable of making decisions on their own. I had an epiphany the other day. I realized that every meaningful relationship that I have been in has been with a strong, opinionated girl, all of my other relationships have fizzled into oblivion. So I implore women everywhere, decide where you want to go to dinner and what movie you want to see. Although your significant other might not agree with your decision, at least you’ll have something to discuss or compromise.

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Saturday, September 6, 2003

Stand? I Say Sit!

I am not sure if the Stand commercials are airing on cable television in your neck of the woods, but, here in Ohio, they are shown at every commercial break. The commercials depict a bunch of high school aged kids attempting to convince people to sign a petition in an attempt to banish tobacco from MTV’s programming. The logic behind this “holiest” of crusades is that MTV doesn’t depict violence or drugs, yet tobacco kills more people than violence or dugs put together. If you haven’t guessed already, this commercial really pisses me off. My first problem with this video is that these kids actually believe that MTV promotes smoking, and that this promotion is actually influencing kids to smoke. If a bunch of social rejects from the real world puffing on camels makes you crave nicotine, you are a worthless human being. Everyone, and I mean every single person in the world, at least knows that cigarettes don’t help improve your health, and the majority of us realize that use of tobacco products can lead to all different types of nasty cancer. There is so much anti-smoking propaganda in the media that children come out of the womb now with inherent knowledge that cigarettes are bad. The other problem that I have with Stand is the smug-faced high school kids that are behind this pointless crusade. They actually believe that they are going to make a difference. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for attempting to better humanity, however, there are better (please excuse the over use of better) ways to go about it. Go work at a soup kitchen, pick up litter on a road way, help organize a fund raiser to open up a boys and girls facility that gives children of broken homes a place to go after school…anything is more noble than attempting to keep tobacco off of MTV. You know what I think? I think that these kids are greedy, scholarship seeking little finks. One of them probably realized that if they focused on MTV and cigarettes someone would probably put them on television (most likely a cigarette company), and then colleges will be knocking on their doors. Well I have seen there little ploy and I hereby pledge to create a competitive organization, called Sit. The members of Sit will be required to do absolutely nothing except meet at a Starbucks once a month, drink coffee, and bitch about Stand. Because if you are going to create a pointless organization, the least you should get is some decent coffee.

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Wednesday, September 3, 2003

Random Thought

I realized today (again) that I really hate work. I also realized today (again) that I enjoy receiving my modest paycheck every two weeks. I guess this means I am between the proverbial “rock and hard place” (not to be confused with the adult movie bearing a similar title). I would look for a new job, but if there is one thing I hate more than my present job it is searching for other career opportunities. I guess it will be better when I figure out what future path I wish to pave. Until then, I’ll suffer through my present job, bitching sporadically about it in this blog.

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Tuesday, September 2, 2003

Fun With GHB

I am not sure if I have told this story to anyone on the Otaku before, but I thought that I could write about it in a humorous manner even though the situation could have been tragic. When I worked at Structure I had a really cool store manager named Isaac. Isaac was one of those people that could make you laugh no matter how bad of a day you were having, so naturally everybody enjoyed hanging out with him. One night Isaac invited me and our co-worker, Tony, to go have a couple drinks at a local bar after work. Both of us agreed and decided to meet up at the bar at 9:30pm. Tony and I arrived at the bar at roughly the same time and went in to look for our splendiferous supervisor. Isaac is a big, bald, black man that stands 6’4 and is built like a running back, which makes his exceptionally easy to spot in a crowd. Our search proved fruitless, so Tony and I uncomfortably ambled up to the bar and ordered a round of drinks. I ordered my usual, a Jameson on the rocks, and Tony ordered something with rum or tequila in it (Tony always orders drinks that incorporate rum or tequila; he says that Puerto Ricans have to drink one or the other or face eternal damnation). We sat at the bar discussing sports, women, or some other masculine topic hoping that we didn’t seem too out of place. I am sure you are wondering why Tony and I would feel uncomfortable in a bar, having a drink, and making idle conversation while waiting for our friend. You see, Tony and I are both hetero-sexual males, Isaac is not, and neither was the bar that we were currently imbibing alcohol in. By the time I finished my first drink I felt a bit more acclimated to the bar; besides the guy dancing topless in front of a mirrored wall, it was a bar like any other. Isaac had still not arrived, but a small group of pretty college girls flocked into the bar, hoping for cheap drink specials and anonymity from usual crowd of fraternity boys that haunt university bars. Realizing that they most likely desired to have an evening that excluded a man trying to con them into a date, I respected their privacy and immediately sauntered over to their table and struck up a conversation. Twenty minutes later Tony and I had finished our second drink and allowed ourselves to be led to the dance floor. After an hour of showcasing the various dance techniques that I learned by watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas one too many times, Tony, I and our new female friends decided to inhabit a booth right next to a long blonde haired man making out with a gentleman that resembled a muscular Ricky Martin. Realizing that we were out of drinks, Tony went to the bar to get us our third round, I would have gone but I was busy trying to figure out what kind of lip gloss one of my new blonde friends wore. Several minutes later Tony arrived with my Jameson on the rocks and I inquired how much I owed him for the drink. Grinning, Tony said not to worry about it; some guy at the bar had purchased the drinks for us. Who was I too argue, I was low on cash, my throat was parched from dancing, and I desperately wanted to get the pina colada taste off of my lips. Over the next twenty minutes I drank my drink and flirted some more with Samantha of the pina colada lip gloss. I grew increasingly tired and soon decided to head home. I didn’t want to drink anymore for fear that I would be legally intoxicated (to be intoxicated would have taken a substantial amount more alcohol) and unable to legally drive home. I traded numbers with Samantha, bid Tony farewell and sauntered off to my red Saturn coupe. The last thing I remember is searching for my Pogues CD to listen to on the way home. I awoke in a stupor on the floor of my small living room. The smell of vomit permeated the air. I cleaned up the mess that I made in my bathroom, puzzling over why I slept until three in the afternoon and wondering how the hell I arrived home. I ran to my window and saw my Saturn sitting serenely in its parking space, neither bumped nor bruised. Figuring that I had developed a mild case of food poisoning, I made some soup and nestled in front of the TV. Several hours later Tony called. “Dude, WTF happened last night?” Tony asked in a slightly frantic voice, “I don’t remember anything after you left the bar last night, and I have no idea how I got home. But my car isn’t here!” Tony had also blacked out at some point last night, only to wake up in his bed next to quite a bit of vomit. I asked Tony if he saw the bartender mix the drinks that our supposed benefactor had given us. He said that he went to the bathroom while the drinks were being made. Had we been drugged? I decided to go to the doctor that afternoon. He did some blood work and took a urine sample, despite telling me that if I had been drugged, it is very doubtful that it would still be in my system. I went home concerned, feeling slightly violated. Images of things that could have happened, a car wreck, a police officer stopping me, being raped by a human Sasquatch in the most nefarious of orifices, all ran through my mind. The test results wouldn’t arrive until the following Monday, so I had quite a while to ponder the “what ifs”. Isaac had called me while I was out. He had arrived at the bar to find Tony sitting by himself, semi-conscious at about 11:45, approximately 15 minutes after I left. He had driven him home, thinking that Tony had become a little overzealous with the booze. The following Monday, Doctor Tolbert, the physician called personally with the lab results, which I found, and still find, quite reassuring. Usually assistants call with the bad news. The doctor said that at the time of the blood test there was still a trace amount of GHB (a known “date rape” drug) in my system, which means that the sucker that added the poison to our drinks used a heavy amount. The Dr. T assured me that I had nothing to fear, GHB had no physical side effects, and luckily my only mental scar was a feeling a stupidity for allowing me to be placed in what could have been a horrible situation. Well that is the end of my story. One good thing did come out of the experience. Now when a girl tells me that I don’t know what it is like to have to worry about a man taking advantage of me at a bar I can honestly say “like hell I don’t”.

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Thursday, August 28, 2003

Getting My Ass Kicked By Billy Blank

Yesterday I was given Tae-Bo Advanced as a gag gift from my mom. Me mater, as I so lovingly refer to her in my horribly garish Irish accent, saw it at a used bookstore and purchased it for me, knowing that my gym buddies and I reference spandex clad male “spinners” as Billy Blank wannabies. When I received this gift, I stared blankly at Billy Blanks photograph on the DVD cover, wondering why someone would waste their money on such a useless gift. But, like the old saying goes, “never judge a book by its cover” or in this case never judge a workout routine by infomercials. I recently started jogging in the morning. When I woke up, however, air was as hot and thick as pea soup, smoldering any desire to jog. Not wanting to go without a morning exercise, I decided to throw in Tae-Bo advanced. I figured that the 45 minute workout would at least let me work up a sweat. Boy did I ever underestimate Billy Blanks. Within the first five minutes I was drenched in sweat and by the ten minute mark I was huffing and puffing for breath. Twenty minutes into the video I began falling out of sync with the video, but I wasn’t about to give up, I was enjoying myself too much. The tight stomached young women in the background had barely worked up a sweat at the thirty minute mark; I on the other hand, an athletic, muscular , man, was doing one repetition for every three or four of theirs. At the end of the video I fell to the floor gasping for air, wondering if I was going to throw up. Billy Blank wasn’t even winded. I hated Billy Blank at that moment, not because I was jealous but because he made me admit to myself that I was wrong, that there are better more enjoyable ways to exercise individually then jogging in humid, fiery weather.

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Tuesday, August 26, 2003

College Lament

Before I start writing, I want to make it clear that I have wonderful, loving parents, and that most of the following ranting is just for the purpose of getting some thoughts off my chest… My sister is deciding on what college she wants to attend next year. It has been a difficult process for her. She is a terrific basketball player and has been heavily recruited by several schools. She is also an outstanding student with a tremendous work ethic. I think for a while she was struggling to find a balance between academics and athletics; however, she has finally narrowed down her choices between VCU and Dartmouth. I am incredibly happy that my sister settled on two very fine schools, but I also cannot help to feel a bit envious. It is not the prestige of the institutions that tweaked my jealousy (actually, I had the opportunity to decide between several equally prestigious Universities), but the attention and concern that my parents expressed to my sister’s college ambitions. When I was a senior in High School I had no idea where I wanted to go to college. Every day for the past year my mail box was littered with college applications, scholarship letters, and university pamphlets. My parents didn’t seem too concerned about my college future. I was always a very independent child, so I guess they figured that I would make up my own mind. Despite getting offers to attend various schools throughout the country I only applied to two: UNC Chapel Hill, and UNC Wilmington. I opted to go to Wilmington because it was on the coast, and I enjoyed the beach. That was my rational for choosing what college I would attend, to decide on what institution would help to further my education; I made my decision solely because I enjoyed the beach. My parents smiled and enthusiastically talked about UNC Wilmington and how nice it seemed in the pamphlets. They had to have been faking their enthusiasm; I hope they were faking their enthusiasm. One of my biggest regrets is attending UNC Wilmington. I don’t think that I learned a terrible amount in school, and my only real accomplishments seemed to be developing a high tolerance for grain alcohol and managing to learn how to stand up on a surf board. When my mother brings up the college, I often feel like I am being belittled or chastised. She knows that I didn’t have the greatest of college experiences, and she often comments on how I should have attended university elsewhere. Her intended compliments in the form of “you could have gone to such and such”, always seem back-handed. I often want to ask them why: why they weren’t more concerned, why they didn’t take a more active roll in my life, why didn’t they realize that this was a huge transition in my life, one that I shouldn’t have to go through alone. I know I sound bitter and selfish, but that is because I am slightly bitter and selfish. Despite the fact that I am still hurt by my parent’s lack of attentiveness I am glad that they seem to have learned from it. It shows that they realize that they could have done better and they are trying to atone for it. My sister deserves to have the opportunities that I didn’t. She is unaware of my jealous, envious feelings because my pride and happiness for her. I truly hope that her college experience is the opposite of mine… Sorry for the bitchy post, next time I’ll try and post something a bit more lighthearted…

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