the kid with no name

Recap of Project Runway Season 9 - failed account creation on MyLifetime.com

2011-10-29T19:51:00.000-07:00

I was truly disappointed that Viktor didn't win. I feel as though the judges were wooed by Anya's Ms. Universe-heightened social skills. Yes, Anya can speak well, look beautiful, console other contestants, and in general represent the show well, but judging from the lack of diversity in her final line's (and season's) styling and the season of disappointing sewing (and time management), she wasn't the best complete-package designer. Though she had unique ideas, they all revolved around drapey dresses - a designer for summer or the Caribbean, not the City that exists year-round.

Viktor, on the other hand, managed to diversify his show, including both a fashion line, which included beautifully designed prints that he made himself, and a Fashion line of sheer prints, both of which were impeccably tailored and distinctly cohesive. While the sheer line may not sell particularly well online, it was neither representative of the functional, sellable work he made for the rest of the season nor a negative representation of his capabilities as a designer (sheer dresses work in the Fashion world). Throughout the season, he was organized and creative in his work - always aware of his audience's fashion desires. His comparatively less polished self-presentation abilities and lack of personal model-show beauty should not have impacted the judges' final decision. He truly captured the intersection of Latina and American urbana functional fashion in his work, and would have benefited himself and others most with the show's final prize.

Josh and Kimberly both have potential, but they need to keep in mind that their main buying audience will be buyers from the f(F)ashion world(s) with a combination of functional and Fashionable NYC tastes, not just one or the other.

Altogether, a good season, but a disappointing, unfairly biased Finale.

Could you not tarry one hour?

2011-05-21T20:54:00.000-07:00

Ugh... quick rant:

So, we're in the midst of a Minnesota amendment that would re-define marriage as only between one man and one woman. And I invited 'Dad' to turn it on on his television. 5 minutes later, I heard snoring, but could only pretend that he was awake. For twenty minutes, I didn't turn my head away from the broadcast, and when I looked over, his eyes were closed (as always), his mouth was open, and he was fast asleep.

Now I'm upstairs, and he's woken up, and is getting mad that I've left the window shades open (the debate is visible from our window).

I told him, "Dad; I'm sorry you couldn't watch and listen to the debates."

"What do you want me to do?"

"To watch, to listen, to understand. Me. And people like me."

"Your perspective is not the same as mine."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Accepting your own judgment is instinctive; understanding others' is human."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

E.U. (or Vermont, etc...): here I come?

Home and ready to go

2011-05-17T20:08:00.001-07:00

It's strange, being back in small town Minnesota. It's so different than the small, liberal town of my college. Perhaps the most obvious difference is the profuse of children. everywhere.

Reading Franzen's Freedom this semester has really changed how I think about cities and, more often, small towns. The massive yards, the minivans, the handfuls of children per household. I don't think that was the main goal of the novel, but it's what I'm thinking about.

Since I've been back, the one activity I've been doing most is sleeping. After that, probably eating, running, computing. Of course, sleeping should be the most time-consuming activity, but the amount of sleep I've been taking has been ridiculous (~14 hrs-ish a day). Maybe it's adjustment to being back to my asexual, over-populated home- ironic combination.

And, happy news time!:

Visited with two HS friends today and last night... one already graduated and the other has upgraded to the pre-med track. I envy their life stability increases, though the real world will be frightening.

Took the adolescent shorkie on my 6-mile run today, though perhaps it was more of a 'carry' (for 2-3 miles). Strangely, he wasn't mad at me at the end of it all, though it may have been due to my giving him treats and belly rubs after the matter. Hopefully dogs don't get post-workout cramps like humans.

COUNSELOR RANT:

So... the college I attend offers a counseling service for free, which is really awesome; I've been able to workout issues I've had but haven't been willing or able to acknowledge (i.e., gay, family, attention, sleepiness mess). And just when I begin feeling as though I've finished telling my counselor everything she needs to know to begin counseling me (in 20 or so sessions), I learn that she's returning to her full-time job, probs not to return until spring, if at all. So, yeah... talk about a lost investment, and I really liked her!

The counselor replacement gameplan:
Call the counseling center ASAP when it opens.
Get the best permanent counselor.
Hopefully I won't have to re-tell everything... it gets super obnoxious feeling emotional about things that aren't going to change.
Win at life.

Gameplan for the rest of MN break (14 days remain):
> Sleep less
> Eat less (carbs)
> Throw away old things
> Exercise more (though I'm semi-impressed with my bike trail runs the last two days; finals week didn't mess me up as bad as I thought :-))
> Read more
> See more friends
> Laundry
> Stop worrying about my finals; 2nd Swat semester is over, and I'm alive.
> Learn how/practice writing succinctly and in un-biased 3rd person

10 minute break... GO!

2011-03-22T19:48:00.000-07:00

So... another day gone, another 20-ish hours of waking time under my belt, and it's not over yet!

Finished a semi-rant essay about consciousness and artificial intelligence...
but do I remember anything truly quote worthy from the day?

Discussed the life of a queer man in SF, which was interesting. NY Times gave a critical review of his book that I agreed with somewhat. Maupin (author, Michael Tolliver Lives) doesn't ever reveal Michael's, the main character's, childhood, who, in his lack of distress, is troubling. Perhaps its because the main character is so over self-hatred that the book seems unlike any other gay literature I've read (e.g. Augusten Burroughs, David Sedaris, etc.). Hopefully I'll be like Michael someday, except not a gardener.

Someone's parents have both been published in the journal, Science. Totes jel.

Yesterday, I had a dream... or was it this morning? (Who knows! Wait, yes, this morning!) that was more vivid than any other dream I've had. I was flying through a wonderful Pandora-like world, and whenever I approached flowers that were fully in bloom, not too young, and not old and wilted, the flowers would disappear into a cloud of white light, and somehow, I would absorb some of the energy, flying higher. Nasty black creatures sometimes zoomed by, though not interested in attacking me. Eventually, some of the power would run out, and I would sink out of the sky until I found some more flowers. Somehow, the whole thing reminded me of Anna of Green Gables and apple picking.

Ugh... what am I going to do about my future? So... I keep thinking I would hate being a researcher, picking apart peoples brains, and then the TRILLIONS of synapses that connect the whole thing. But I'm also fascinated by the brain, psychology, and what I've learned so far in my classes. Maybe I'll be a therapist... at which point I should just become an MD. Ah, thank goodness for post baccalaureate programs.

English is fantastic, but I can't organize my thoughts well, which is highly necessary for getting into and through a graduate school with an English program. AND now I'm thinking of the University of Iowa and random pictures I saw of a girl whose parents were in Philadelphia over the weekend; anywho, this girl had tons of pictures wearing anti-abortion shirts, as if she understood the plight of every aborting mother. SEE!? Lack of thought organization and general unnecessary abrasiveness.

Sleep calls, 10 minutes are up.

Ugh... My mind doesn't work like a paper.

2011-03-21T19:17:00.000-07:00

...and it sounds like someone is outside of my third story window.

Anywho. Hi guys. It's been a while since I've written a *serious* blog, discounting my early Sunday morning debauchery. Regardless, I'm here, and I'll give you an update of the best and worst things that have happened since... college started.

DEBATE:
the good: I got to travel - yay! DC, Yale, Harvard, other places... (small Pennsylvanian towns that aren't our nation's capitol/Ivy League).

the bad: the lack of conversation variety/poli-sci jargon. I still don't know what IR theory is, and I don't plan to right now. People need to learn to think creatively, which involves thinking for themselves. I don't care what Hobbes or Locke said if you can't back it up... and still, I don't care so much if you can. Also, standards suck. Enough said.

QUEER life:
so... some goodness: there are queer people here, most are intelligent, and enough are cute. it works

badness: the extreme liberals hold the most power, which can make conversations come to multiple standstills as we take into account everyone's feelings. bluntly, we aren't addressing the needs of the queer student population. I think it's admirable we are bringing queer, disabled people to campus, but which student are we actually helping. certainly not that girl, who is trying to decide whether to come out, or that boy who feels as though his being gay is deemed bad by the homophobic straights and the extremist liberals. NO. his (my) story should not be overlooked. we are not bringing and gay- or male-identified speakers to campus, and I don't think this decision, even if it were/is representative, makes many Swarthmore students more capable of dealing with their lives

GAY life:
goodness: there are some intelligent, beautiful, and athletic people here. unfortunately, few people fall into all these categories, plus my other preferences (concert pianist, dark complexion, Olympic gymnast-y, socially brilliant). However, with time, I'm coming to romantically appreciate (ugh, what sterile language; "thanks mom and dad!") some of the people with only some of these qualities. Fortunately, everyone has at least one.

badness: the cute guy on my hall in the queer-straight alliance is... "straight," or at least has a girlfriend "back home." But who knows what that means. Also, I think I'm expected to care more about fashion... and if I had time, I would want to, probs.

PHYSICS:
bad

PSYCHOLOGY:
yay! Just accepted today as an honors psych major! I just have to maintain a high B average, and I'll be on the road to... sum magic cum applaude (GAME: what do you see hidden in that last awkward phrase!).

And I need to sleep. I'll pick up from there next time.

Cog Sci paper, here I come, in 100 minutes.

Sage... wise.

2011-03-19T23:15:00.000-07:00

That's all that needs to be said on the matter. :-)

Kind of an entry... ;-)

2010-09-14T13:44:00.000-07:00

Hahha! I’m spooked.

That is awesome... Sorry about the tires and the houses... rather deflating ;-). I thought when you said “you crashed” that the afternoon had been so exhausting that you finally just did the worst: crashed the car. Thank goodness for language ambiguities.

That’s awesome about the goat cheese; they have buckets full of it here at every meal, which is tasty and Candida safe. I’m planning on transitioning back to my own version of the Candida/selective carbohydrate diet once I’m done with the Accutane (4 days!!), which should be nice considering my skin is completely devoid of moisture.

I’ve joined debate, which is fantastic. The people are awesome, and acquiring the ability to think [even better] on my feet will be awesome. We had our first mock round called pro-am (pros with amateurs). My debating partner, Carlo, was awesome, and I think we, especially he, did a great job in saying why we, as the Mexican government, would not want the US Military to essentially come in and take over the war against the drug cartels.

I’m also involved with salsa and some spiritual/cultural groups on campus – tons of fun and learning!

About the workload... I don’t think I can be a doctor. Next semester would be organic chemistry for me, and if it is anything like physics has been, I would die. I would love to be able to study the liberal arts here, particularly in preparation for law or business school (*gasp). I want your opinion on this.

Yes... The house would be nice, but it still sounds high at what they’re asking. The latest reports on the housing market are in, and the news is not looking good for sellers; I’m guessing they’ll come down in price if you wait. Otherwise, I’m glad to hear that the house is sufficing as is (with de-cluttering and storage, of course).

I hope everyone is well there... This provided a procrastination moment for me; thank you :-). Seriously, I’d rather write a research paper than do physics, kind of. But, alas, I have many equations to understand and many problems to solve.

I like emails, and I love you all,

Sam

On 9/14/10 3:41 PM, "Linda Buchl" wrote:

Thanks Sam!
I did go to the web site to copy it; it was easier to see and copy. I will have to get some of the ingredients before I can try it. Did you know my cousin (Leeann) and her husband make and sell goat cheese up by St Cloud?? Sorry I haven't written in a while. Just finished my weekend which was busy and accompanied by a flat tire at 1:30 AM after Sat shift. I decided to bypass Beer Bellyz (where I possibly would have had offers to help or at least could have taken one of the cabs sitting outside) and drive onto HyVee. I knew I could look at a magazine there while I waited for Dad to come. Thankfully he answered the phone. I was afraid he might sleep through the ringing. By the time he arrived a beligerent (?drunk) man was being escorted out of the store where the police arrived to escort him away. Anyway - made it home by 3. Yesterday Josh and I went to Sam's Club to get the tire fixed. We were just there last week getting a different one fixed. By the time we got home I crashed for the rest of the evening. Now I am catching up on house work etc... I work tomorrow and Thursday and then I will be off for a week.
How are classes going for you???? Hannah mentioned you said there is alot of work. (Thanks, By the Way, for wishing her a happy birthday.) Remember it's only for a few short years in the whole scheme of things. I hope you get to enjoy the beauty of the campus in between classes and studying. You mentioned lifeguarding the one weekend. Did you get a regular position, or are you subbing? How about your room; have you rearranged it yet? Are you still glad you are in a single? Keep us posted on the CPAP as we are paying on it by the month. I think I could have used one last night.
Not sure if Hannah updated you, but our offer on the pool house was rejected. They did eventually come back with a counter offer - the same as the listed price. It sounded like they were not happy at all. We were hoping that they might counteroffer a bit less. They feel that by lowering the price 20,000 that was enough. Still no final decision on our end. We continue to plug away at the junk in the house; putting some into storage and some into the van to be taken into Rochester. The open areas look better in and of themselves. What will we ever do with all the stuff in storage?!!!
Josh wants to insert a face he says "this one is going to spook him out!" Now he is off again. We are working on learning letters at home. His recognition is fine but his writing skills/motor coordination is lacking a bit. Oh Well. And now I must close and find a card to send to Holly Galbus. Her mother passed away and I need to send a sympathy card to the family. Keep us posted and send us leaf photos when you can! Love and Prayers, Mom and Josh

Date: Mon, 13 Sep 2010 19:28:05 -0400
Subject: Recipe for you :-)
From: buchl.sam@gmail.com
To: llbuchl@hotmail.com

http://www.food.com/recipe/mixed-greens-with-pecans-goat-cheese-and-dried-cranberries-406130

Enjoy!

<3

Clean and Adorn

2010-05-17T01:09:00.000-07:00

Back in K-town, and cleaning my room. I don't understand how my mass of possessions multiplied by so much. If anything, I figured I would come back from my freshmen (freshman?) year of college with fewer things, what with eating and breaking and all. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case. I have many more books, a new chair, and reams of paper. Fortunately, now that my classes are over, I've been able to get rid of all but the most polished products of my year (finals papers, notes for final tests, etc.). Anyways... it's super late right now (3:11a), and I still have a long ways to go. At the moment, I have another tab open and am trying to figure out a way to sell my macroeconomics textbook. It's in an untraditional format (3-ring-bound), and I need a credit or debit card, and mine is currently packed away in my peacoat, which is in my suitcase along with the other tens of clothes that I will be hanging up within the hour. I just want to wake up in a clean room tomorrow, so my dad will lay off the "you need to get your room (life?) together" mantra.

Interesting thing:

So... I've been super interested in Judaism, not sure if I mentioned that yet, but I finally got my first Star of David necklace, and I love it. I love the way it feels around my neck, the way the thin silver chain glistens in the light, and the fact that the star is made of triangles, the world's strongest shape. Anyways, I was eating something in the kitchen today, and my sister wanted to see what I was wearing around my neck. My mom was standing there, next to the table at which I was seated (wow... burst of formality), and I think she might have had an idea of what I was wearing. Anyhow, I eventually showed my sister, Hannah, the Star of David, and she laughed and said, "Well, Jesus was a Jew." I wasn't sure what to think about that but was glad she wasn't super judgmental.

Less than an hour later, we were at the grocery store buying some flour and milk, and I wanted to get a ring from the quarter machine. After haggling with the cashier for an extra two cents to make my quarter, we went to the machine, and instead of getting a nice golden ring (I was feeling SUPER nostalgic about my childhood... filled with many wonderful rings), I got a cheap plastic golden cross tied around a black thread necklace. My instilled "instinct" was that it was a sign. Then I quickly thought how odd it would be if I had gotten a second Star of David. Clearly, K-town has a religious majority of the grocery store is selling crosses in a ring machine. Hannah thought it may have been a sign... hmmm....

After hitting up mass in Roch (guilt-removal method), I went to Walmart where I bought some things for my May Term trip: fiber bars, sleeping pills, and (not for the trip) ocean-scented air fresheners. Also, I purchased gum that changes taste (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is becoming a reality - YES!), and a quarter ring, which I did get this time. Unfortunately, it wasn't masculine enough for me to wear it in public, so I just wore it home while I sang to Glee and Josh Groban. Then, like Nurse Jackie, I took it off and slipped it in my pocket. No need to get picked on for wearing a ring like I did in first grade on the playground... Maybe I can find my class ring-a nice gender neutral thing.

Hopefully this blogging will be a regular thing for me again, at least for the summer; I need to keep my mind working in a somewhat organized manner. Perhaps this will be the beginning of a new and exciting writing-filled pre-sophomore summer.

Apnea and Accutane... the Sweet Life of Sam Buchl

2010-03-28T22:49:00.001-07:00

Disclaimer: Gross descriptions of acne and skin; writer’s cognitive abilities have been severely impaired and the flow of this entry is very fragmented (please bear with it)

So... over Spring Break I went back home where I had a number of checkups. Thank God the dental checkup was uneventful (the peeps there still want me to be an orthodontist) because I realized how physiologically imperfect a human being I am.

First, for those of you who don't know, I snore. I didn't know this until my former dorm-mate informed me after three months of our rooming together that I did. He then went on (on the very same breath) to suggest I sleep on my side and use nose strips (which to me meant that I had been presenting a problem that had subjected him to stress and mandated his thought and effort to fix), which I tried. Unfortunately, I deduced that neither of the strategies he suggested and I employed worked because my roommate started waking me up when I began to snore by pounding on the wall or the shelf next to his bed. Occasionally, he would even politely inform me at 2a in the morning that "You are snoring very loudly," to which I would reply (with perhaps an uncontrollable death glare), "Sorry."

As someone who always works to please others, finding out that I snored in the first place was a big shock for me (I tried as much as I could to be the perfect roommate ((used headphones with music, entered quietly, etc.)). But when I tried everything I could to control my "problem" and the methods failed to work, I went to the doctor. After all, my nights of sleep were now interrupted several times by banging, and I was beginning to reflect my lack of sleep in my slipping academic performance (perhaps the organization of this note reflects the jumbledness of my mind). Additionally, my roommates decision to classically condition me to associate my tiredness and lack of sleep with him and his awakening me was creating unpleasant and unfair feelings of dislike for my roommate.

Back to the doctor:
I've never seen a doctor wear one of those round CD-like discs on his head before, but apparently, some sleep doctors do. He looked in my mouth and found that my soft palate was extraordinarily low (this explains why I couldn't hum as well as many of my fellow tenors in HS choir ("Your humming needs to be more open!" - CJ)) and my tonsils slightly enlarged, both contributing factors to my snoring. Just to be sure that i didn't have sleep apnea, he prescribed a sleep study, where I would spend a night in the hospital with electrodes and oxygen sensors attached to many parts of my body.

I arrived to the hospital, filled out a journal documenting my sleep habits from the last week, and went down to the basement of the hospital where I was delighted to find what appeared to be a hotel room. There, a nurse began to hook dozens of electrodes to my hair, face, chest, and legs, and clamped an oxygen sensor to my finger. Then, after I watched the first half of a documentary about an Indian girl who sporadically bled out of her eyes (maybe my problems aren't that bad?), the nurse came in one last time, hooked up my cords to the machine, and turned off the lights.

Unfortunately, I couldn't fall asleep at 11p like I was supposed to. I attribute this to the fact that the DST transition had just happened the night before, so normally, I wouldn't fall asleep until 3a (2a before the switch-not bad, right?). Yes, the nurse had offered me a sleeping pill, but I was always so good at falling asleep (at 2). After sitting up a couple of times (triggering the nurse to come in and see what I needed), getting some extra blankets, and counting to 300 twice, I finally fell asleep. In the morning, I didn't wake up with a mask, suggesting that I didn't have apnea. I was both relieved and disappointed; it's nice to know that there is a cure for your problem (for me, in this case, lethargy and sleepiness).

A week after the study, I got a call on my cell phone telling me that the doctor wanted me to have a second sleep study for treatment, meaning that I did and do have apnea (I stop breathing either because my airway collapses (obstructive sleep apnea) or my body has a bigger problem and it just forgets to breathe while I sleep (central sleep apnea)). Unfortunately, my parents weren't sure how much insurance covered, and I was back at college, so a second sleep study where doctors could decide if a sleep mask or surgery is the best treatment will probably come during the summer.

To remedy the interrupted sleep nights at school, my parents and I decided that a single room would probably be best for both my roommate and me. Before I returned home for the break, my dad and I moved all of my things into a single room in one of the older dorms. On a happy note, I love the room and the new location! Sleep has been good since the move, and though the desire to nap remains insatiable after 11a, I am glad to not have to worry about pleasing someone else in the room.

So now, the acne. On a lucky break, I was able to get in to the dermatologist during the break. I had been thinking about Accutane for a while (see previous note), so I wasn’t sure what the MD would say when I suggested it for treatment. The doctor took one look at the acne scars on my chest and face, the new cysts forming on my chin and again, chest, and said, “I would do it.” After blood tests and a little bit of waiting, I finally started the Accutane (actually Claravis (generic)) 40 mg x 2 regime on Wednesday evening.

The next day, for the first time I can remember, I walked outside and my face didn’t feel oily or itchy. This is difficult to describe, but normally, I would mess with my face with acne wipes and topical treatments. On this morning, though, I could tell that oil pads would be needed no more. Later that afternoon, I went to the REC center to work out and the most intense wave of nausea I have ever experienced hit me while I was doing the leg squats. My planned three-mile run was quickly cancelled, and I hyperventilated and walked back to the dorm, defeated and embarrassed. Later that night, on my fourth pill, my acne started flaking off. The acne which has called my chest home for the last few years started hurting. When I looked down, the normally blood red acne had turned brown and had dried out (less than 48 hours after stopping). I touched it, and it flaked right off (what had been cysts!). The same started happening with the acne on my face, and I was thrilled with the results.

All went well on Friday, until the evening (my 6th dose), when I got the most intense headache of my life. Clearly, isotrentinoin (Accutane, AKA Clovaris), was a first for many intense, painful things. With this headache, my vision started going blurry for a second or two, and my ability to focus disappeared. While doing laundry, I kept forgetting certain important aspects of the process (the detergent, then the fabric softener, the keys, my homework). Getting down to the laundry room was strangely exhausting, and I just sat at the table in the laundry room staring at the red and pink clothes in a random dryer spinning around for a few minutes. I attempted to write my final essay for Swarthmore to little avail, and by the time the headache started subsiding (an hour and a half later), the laundry was done.

I returned to my room, where I got a text from two friends inviting me to a party. I figured I couldn’t be any more productive in my room, alone with my homework and a headache, so I went and just sat at the party, the throbbing in my head still painful. When I got back a couple of hours later, I looked in the mirror, and I saw that my face was red, my pores pleasantly small, but the area under my eyes seemed to be puffy and pink. To my dismay, I found that one of the rarest of Accutane’s side effects is intracranial pressure. Essentially, my brain was bulging out of my eye sockets.

I went to bed, deciding that I would take a break, perhaps a permanent one, from this too-effective drug. Today, I woke up late and had lunch (no dose), a small headache continuing to persist. I tried to workout again, but this time, my arches started giving out, my knees felt weak, and my muscles and joints felt as though they were in pain. I can attest to the acne-removing powers of Accutane, but I’m not willing to sacrifice my capacity to enjoy life for it. Oily skin blows, yes, but not being able to do the things that I love (workout, enjoy the company of my friends, comprehend the world around me), is not worth it. I’m glad it works for most people; I’ll just have to keep looking.

Acne + apnea = not fun. Sam = fun. Sam will overcome, one way or another. Sorry about the over use of first person in this article; it’s almost too self-help oriented. I just want to be able to enjoy the world and the wonderful people and places on it without feeling sleepy or undesirable.

Many Things...

2010-02-07T19:21:00.000-08:00

I've been putting off writing my paper for writing for the last several hours, and I'd better get started. However, I need to publish an essay for the sake of keeping all of you satiated. Enjoy!

Judgment Call
“When you experience a new and perhaps strange cultural tradition, don’t forget: It’s not good, and it’s not bad; it’s just different. Don’t bring expectations.” These were the last “hints” the study abroad coordinators shared with the other exchange students and me before we boarded our plane for Italy. This non-partisan suggestion may have served as a helpful adage for students who were used to having things their “way because it’s the best way.” I am certain, however, that the world would be better off if all people, especially students, used their everyday and unusual experiences as means to challenge and refine their moral standards. For me, this meant sharing certain aspects of my host family’s lifestyle (the importance of family, tradition, and good food) with my real family while remembering what I had already found to be good in my small United States hometown (the importance of friends, community, and helping those in need).
When I read the passages for this week, I kept thinking of the “not good or bad but different” and “no expectations” slogans and their application to technology. To some extent, I think we should face new technologies without expectations. For example, we did not and should not expect cell phones to solve every communication problem in the United States (they still do not work in the middle of North Dakota, and they rarely solve communication problems in personal relationships). We need to keep in mind that not every new technology is going to make the world a better place; many have made it worse. United States Americans embraced nuclear fission and mark-to-market accounting before they fully understood the technologies’ repercussions, and as a result, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and Enron happened. We do need to face emerging technologies with at least one expectation: that they will collectively make humanity more sustainable.
In Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, man’s unquenchable desire to be genuinely creative (the first to do something, such as land on the moon or think and say something that has never been thought and said before) becomes an underlying motive for experimentation and discovery for Dr. Frankenstein, ultimately breeding chaos and regret. Why did he so carelessly produce and so readily abandon his creation? Perhaps it was because his father raised him in a way that his mind “should be impressed with no supernatural horrors.” Instead of respecting the cemetery as a final resting spot for the dead, Frankenstein saw it as a casual “receptacle of bodies deprived of life, which, from being the seat of beauty and strength, had become food for the worm.” Though we only see Frankenstein’s microcosm, we can easily learn lessons from the story and apply them to real world situations. First, we need to understand that technology is never going to be solely good or evil; it will lie somewhere on the mixed spectrum between. Even if it benefits society overall, there are always questions that both consumers and producers need to consider and answer before implementing technology: How does using this new technology negatively affect others and the environment? Can consumers use it in hurtful ways? What can we do to prevent these types of abuse?
Leo Marx suggests that new technological improvements can only bring social progress if their creation has a purpose. “Only by questioning the assumption that innovation represents progress can we begin to judge its worth. The aim may well be to reduce labor cost, yet in our society the personal costs to the displaced workers are likely to be ignored.” Even though technology mechanizes thousands of jobs each year, many consumers overlook these job losses. Every day, I send and receive at least one email; these are communication exchanges that do not happen in the snail-mail system. Overall, am I better off? In the sense that the communication exchange was essentially instantaneous, free, and paper-free, yes, I am. However, the postman who has thousands of times “only two less letters to deliver,” probably is not. It leaves me wondering if automation will eventually bump blue-collar workers out of modern work and production equations or force corporations to outsource blue-collar jobs to countries where manual labor is still inexpensive. Soon, the American public will need to decide whether the benefits of automation outweigh the consequences. The Amish have already decided that they want to avoid this test altogether by avoiding all of technology’s complications.
In James Surowiecki’s article, “Technology and Happiness,” readers find that the Amish have low depression and high happiness rates compared to the rest of the United States population. In fact, a survey found them to be as happy as the wealthiest 400 citizens in the United States. How can this be when the wealthy have so much more than the Amish do? Surowiecki suggests technology creates an insatiable desire for more technology, never allowing the non-Amish to be happy with the things they have.
Would it be better to live a shorter happier life without technology or a constantly unsatisfied longer life with it? If I went and lived with the Amish, I would have to decide which lifestyle is better, just as all members of modern society need to judge emerging technologies. Merely appreciating technologies as novel and different does nothing to change the world for the better; in cases such as the development of increasingly devastating weapons and unsustainable business practices, technology does hurt out world.
One might question why we even use these harmful technologies. Paul Taylor’s report, “Luxury of Necessity,” suggests that we do because we believe we must. However, do we really need our own cars, washers, cell phones, and air conditioning? Before we think yes, we should remember public transportation, Laundromats, landlines, and fans. Looking back further, we might remember that people used to walk to work, wash clothes in buckets of well water, talk to others in-person, and cool down in the shade. Our ancestors “got by” without the “necessary” technologies identified in Taylor’s report (we are evidence of their doing so). It is entirely possible that we have forgotten that people lived without these machines at one time. We should consider that our parents’ stories about not having car air conditioning or cell phones or Internet when they were younger might have some merit.
For affluent members of industrialized countries, technology has changed everyday life. From faster communication and cooking to more conditioned cars and homes, technology gives many of its patrons material comfort, autonomy, and longer lives. However, we cannot overlook the negative effects of technology if we want to use it to become a better, happier society. We need to know that the it’s-just-different attitude does not work here. Ultimately, more people live or more people die because of technologies; we need to be independent enough to find out which it is on a case-by-case basis for new technologies and decide whether we are willing to use and rely on them. Without judgment calls, we will perpetuate the insatiable desire for technology and material goods and never realize that it is others people, not things, that make us happy.

2010-01-29T21:56:00.000-08:00

Essay from WRIT class.

Check out the websites:

www.edwardburtynsky.com/
www.chrisjordan.com/

And then enjoy... or reflect.

I Will Change
Upon reading Edward Burtynsky’s and Chris Jordan’s mission statements for the first time, I was almost embarrassed when I found myself thinking, “What’s the point? I’ve read hundreds of times that humans are destroying the planet, but what am I supposed to do? I’m just one person, after all. Saving the planet begins with government and corporations going green.” Despite my less-than-proactive mindset, I completed my assignment of exploring both Burtynsky’s and Jordan’s websites. What I found helped me realize I was wrong. Even with industrialized humanity’s addiction to consumerism, an individual can make a difference. Indeed, the individual’s role of recognizing that something is wrong or could be better is the necessary first step in creating change.
“[My] images are meant as metaphors to the dilemma of our modern existence; they search for a dialogue between attraction and repulsion, seduction and fear...[and] function as reflecting pools of our time” (Burtynsky). When Burtynsky refers to the human conflict between having nice things within reach and having a nice environment, he artistically identifies a need for awareness of the effects of consumerism. We want nice things (houses, cars, iPods), but we often fail to recognize that they come from somewhere and that companies have displaced and reorganized earth in their manufacturing. As nice as it would be, ships don’t fall from the giant marshmallows in the sky and electricity doesn’t come from jellybean fields on a moon made of cheese. From photos of the construction of a massive two-kilometer dam that has displaced millions of Chinese citizens to images of shipyards where Chinese works produce ships longer than the Empire State Building at least every other day, Burtynsky opens several windows for the relatively-isolated public to learn about the reality of environmental change consumerism brings.
Chris Jordan describes his own artistic depictions of the “the accumulated detritus of our consumption [as]…evidence of a slow-motion apocalypse in progress” (Jordan). In his statement, he also recognizes there is an understandable conflict between consumerism and environmentalism: “I am appalled by these scenes, and yet also drawn into them with awe and fascination” (Jordan). For me, there is something gripping and sometimes amusing about passively watching humans reshape and reconstruct the earth, tree-huggers stand in front of bulldozers, and former a vice-president try to convince the world that industrialization is truly impacting the world’s environment. Jordan’s works, however, bring the darker side of human consumerism into stark focus. With pictures of decaying baby albatrosses that died from eating human litter and with other artistic renderings depicting the scale of American consumption, Jordan realizes some of the supposition consumers have about the consequences and magnitude of their environmentally unconcerned actions and lets them decide for themselves whether humans are affecting the world. I honestly do not enjoy knowing that the United States alone cuts down more than 100 million trees a year to make the paper for junk mail alone or that ten thousand dogs or cats are euthanized every day in the United States. Though I would do like to think of my country as a moral place, Jordan’s pictures foreshadow a seemingly inevitable future of a treeless, one-species planet. They lead me to wonder how long is it going to be before developed societies begin euthanizing their citizens on a grand scale out of a necessity to keep at least part of the human species alive. With more reflection, I realize this widespread wiping out of entire populations, intentional or not, has already begun (the Holocaust, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Chernobyl…).
Before seeing Burtynsky’s and Jordan’s work, I never fully understood nor accepted the gravity of my actions as a consumer and as a member of society. I recognize that even though I am not responsible for every scrap or plastic or euthanized animal and I may have been more environmentally responsible had I been one of the leading industrialists at the dawn of Industrialization, I am a human and I am a citizen of an industrialized nation. These “am-nots” and “may-haves” do not take away the negative effects of my individual consumerism nor those of society. I, however, unlike humans of the past, am aware of the havoc the rest of modern society and I are wreaking on the environment. I could look at Burtynsky’s and Jordan’s works and easily despair or even more easily ignore the truth and continue living as I have. Or, I could look at them as reasons for and to change and see an embraceable opportunity to make at least one more person an advocate for the environment.

Random-seez.

2010-01-24T22:31:00.000-08:00

Here are a few posts that have been explaining my present college life to peeps. Enjoy, you vast, insatiable crowd of readers.

On 1/24/10 7:33 PM, "Linda Buchl" wrote:

Hello!
How has your first week gone? I did transfer part of your money into your account but since the one 600 $ scholarship was not posted yet I wasn't sure if I should pay off the balance yet. What do you want me to do? I can transfer your entire amount. Is your mouth OK? Your rinse is still on the bathroom counter; I'm thinking I'll toss it unless you think you need it. I am off work now until next weekend which is nice so I might get back into the kitchen and do some more cupboards. It has been rainy and slushy here the past few days. Josh and Dad built a snowman yesterday. Josh picked out white rocks for the eyes and nose which were difficult to see so Hannah brought out a carrot. He (Josh) insisted on the snowman's face facing the house. It is right outside the bathroom window and so that is the best position to view it from (although we did get pictures of it with the face on the side first). Anyway good view IF you happen to be looking out the bathroom! Hannah and Jacob had a short week with teacher's work days Thursday and Friday. It worked out well as I worked on Thursday. Josh and I rode the bus up to the March for Life on Friday. The Sheehans and Joe Allen came with. It was a nice day with a full crowd at the Cathedral (awesome music!) and the Capitol. I came home really tired because of working eves on Wed and Thurs and am still not sure I have caught up on sleep. Well I will close for now. Let me know how you are doing. Oh - and a quick reminder for you (and Ben) that you should be sending thank yous to your grandmothers for their gifts to you. Grandma W. put a lot of time into your quilt and it was nice that Grandma B. gave you some extra spending money.
Bye for now - Love and Prayers, Mom Dad Hannah Jacob and Joshua too!

Hey Mom,

Things up here are good, but busy. I’m only taking 19 credits this semester, but the workload actually seems more difficult. Essentially, it’s tons of reading with small essays following, so I’ve started taking Fish Oil tablets again in hopes of focusing better, and I think it works to some extent (after an hour of research, heehee, I found that studies in Australia have support that it is more effective than Ritalin – maybe Josh would like it :-D). Socially, things have been good here, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the fish oil or because I’m just de-stressed after the break. I went to a Jewish party on Thursday night (like last semester, I only have one class on Mondays and Fridays) with some of the girls I know from the Jewish Cultural Center, and on Friday night, I went to the Jewish Shabbat service (I think I’ve told you about this) and helped welcome back the birthright group of students from Israel (I knew two people who went). Then, a couple of the girls there invited me to come listen to the dueling pianos at the student union, which I was planning on doing after working out at the Rec Center, but they convinced me just to go listen and not work out. It ended up being a good decision, although I wasn’t able to change out of my Shabbat clothes (AKA Mass clothes). There were two AWESOME pianists/singers, and they took requests and then played and sang to the songs. Really good. I biked back to the dorm afterwards, and I didn’t even slip on the ice (very icy) until I decided to walk the bike... Who would think?

Mouth’s back to normal. Feel free to toss the mouthwash... Or if someone gets a cut or something or just needs an extra clean mouth wash, (or, as some kids do here, a makeshift shot) you could keep it too. I don’t need it.

I wouldn’t expect anything less from Josh; I’ve trained him to be book-smart and functional. Of course the snow man should face the house. Smart kid; like his older brother(s, I guess).

I hope you and Josh had a good time in the Cities. Did Josh make it on the news?

I went to Romeo and Juliet at the Guthrie for free this afternoon (after mass and breakfast at Sanford Hall with a friend). It was really decent, and, as always, incredibly frustrating when Romeo poisons himself because he thinks Juliet is dead. And then she wakes up, finds him dead, and BAM. Game over... I honestly thought about jumping on the stage and throwing both the knife and the “poison” away, but I’m sure they would have just faked it. They are actors, after all.

Well, it’s 12:15 a.m., and I have to start a 3-page reaction essay for my writing class (WRIT – Technology, Self, and Society). The professor seems really cool (as online ratings suggested he would be), but the workload for the first week was pretty intense. More than 2 hours of reading just for Monday. Ah well... Maybe he’s trying to scare away the kids who were taking it because they thought it was going to be easy. Hmmm....

Enjoy your week days off!

Sam

PS:

Dear Sleepy-head,

You can’t catch up on sleep, according to an article I read on the Web. Shoot for consistency (7-9 hours a night and a 30-minute-max nap at the same time). I would recommend night sleeping from 9:30-11p to 5-7a for you. I’ve been trying nine and a nap, and I’ve been much better than last semester (my classes also start later which helps offset the young-adult inclination to stay up later (for me 12-1a to 9-10a). It has something to do with one of the following: alpha, beta, delta, and theta waves... Essentially, you don’t want to get to delta (dream) waves for naps.

Good luck!

College kid without credentials

I figured that you might not want me to continue to broadcast to the Facebook world that I am utterly confused about your religion change. So...to the inbox I go! I like your choice of major/career, hope everything is going well with that. So here's what I know, you joined this Jewish awareness type club at the U just because you were curious if I remember right. Then, what happened to get you to change religion? What was it that you found in Judaism that attracted you? Also...what does your family think of this?
I hope you don't think I'm grilling you :) I just love hearing other people's perspectives on religion. Religions has become kind of a new conversational obsession for me this year...

btw..did you ever hear from/talk to Wendy after November conference? I know that Lauren said she needed some extra help at the office...

Sam Buchl January 23 at 1:49pm
Hey Heidi... About Wendy, I haven't really been in touch with her since the conference. She wasn't happy that I wasn't able to attend the St. Cloud conference (I had 4 classes on that do, so...).

About Judaism... Well, I guess I just wasn't getting anything out of the Catholic services. I would go to mass, listen to the readings that I've already heard 4-5 times in my life, and yes, I can remember the readings from before. Then I'll listen to the priest make up some, excuse this, but BS-y homily about how we must pull together as a community to help the least among us or listen to the calling of God or how we just have to have blind faith in God. This is especially unpleasant at my home town church where the priest makes up his homily on the spot and litters it with grammatical errors (making it unbearable on top of the incoherent message).

After all of that trash talk about the Church, I am still attending mass weekly (except last weekend because I was on a Leadership Retreat). I do like the music at church and the relaxing qualities of being in the sanctuary.

When I got the U, I knew that I wasn't happy with the Church, so I figured I would explore a new sect of the Judeo-Christian line of religions. I had been reading a lot about Judaism and was fascinated that it has been one of the few religions that has never actively attempted to convert non-believers (sort of the opposite of Mormons) and that it has never initiated war (if you look at the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, you will see that Palestine initiates the conflict). The Catholic Church advocates loving your enemy and then goes off on the Crusades to try and take back Jerusalem. I understand the Church has had its errors in the past and that I should think of them as just that - errors in the past. But when I went to the first Shabbat (Jewish equivalent of Mass), I found that the surprisingly large number of students weren't nearly as pompous as many of the students I've seen at the Newman center (you know those people who make a point of wailing out the notes to the songs) and were much less clique-y. The quickly accepted me as someone who was interested in Judaism and already, I am a Student Ambassador for the Jewish group on campus. I am also taking three-hour classes once a week at a temple across town (city?) where I am learning Hebrew and the awesome traditions of Judaism.

My family... They aren't thrilled, but at least I'm not going to some polytheistic religion or Islam (which, by the way, deserve as much consideration and respect as other religions; but I think you know what I mean). My parents wouldn't let me drive up to the Cities over break to take the winter sessions of the Hebrew-class, but I guess that's understandable with gas and all. My mom said, "As long as you're getting closer to God..." But she's also said, "I want you to keep going to weekly Mass; it's what got me through college."

And that's just the thing about Catholicism and any religion, in general. Why should we be what are parents were, just for their sake? I've tried to start with as open-minded view of religion as possible, and my article-reading method of religion exploration brought me to Judaism (the mother of Catholicism).

Don't forget that Jesus was a Jew, and he never said, "Make a new religion with me as your star." He said, "Do this in memory of me" (in reference to breaking bread and sharing wine, which Jews do following every Shabbat service). A rabbi at the temple explained that Jews would have considered Jesus as one of the most influential contributors to the rabbinical texts (interpretation of the Torah) had the Christians not blamed them for his death.

I know all of this is fragmented and poorly organized, but just remember, Catholicism and Judaism have a great deal in common and that I am getting more spiritually out of Judaism than Catholicism at this time in my life. Who knows... maybe it will change as I get older, but right now, Judaism fulfills my desire for a spiritual community and aligns with my other beliefs about the world. If you come to the U, you'll always be welcome to attend a Shabbat and, if you want, convert. :-) And don't forget that religion doesn't define a person; a person should define his or her religion, and that should be different for everyone.

In the Way

2010-01-04T08:53:00.000-08:00

So, yes, I am still going to Mass once a week, until I finish my conversion process. Though I generally do not gain much from what the priest says at each mass, I do enjoy the relaxing qualities of the mass. New Years Day, of course, was a Holy Day of Obligation, which is a "required" Catholic mass service to celebrate a special day. I'm not sure exactly why the New Year constitutes a special day; I guess it goes along with all of the other man-made institutions (college, medical school, birthdays). Because really, couldn't we have a birthday every ten years, or ever season, and couldn't that hold just as much importance as having these year-long celebrations. Hmmm.... not sure where I was going with that one. Anyhow, I was at mass, less than 24 hours after all of my [impacted] wisdom teeth were removed, and for the first time, I felt a minor wave of nausea hit me, so I asked my mom if I could go watch my four-year-old brother in the back (he was already in the narthex coughing and blowing his nose with my dad). Once I dismissed my dad, I decided that Josh should probably get some water to help lubricate his ripped-up-sounding throat; we walked over to the water fountain, and he grabbed a few swallows before he sneezed all over the whole machine.
"Mmmkay. We have to go to the bathroom," I said as I saw his phlegm bubbling in his nose.
We walked into the Church bathroom, which was empty, and I went into the stall to grab him some toilet paper. He did his best at blowing his nose, and then told me that he had to go to the bathroom. He locked the stall door while I examined the geese painting on the wall next to the stall.
"You better get outta here; it's gonna stink," cried Josh with his legs no doubt swinging inches above the ground.
I heeded his warning, and took my pacing into the hallway abutting the bathroom, making a visit to the uncontaminated drinking fountain. After a couple of minutes, and practicing my cursive on the white board in an empty classroom I found, I returned to the bathroom where I was pleased to see that Joshua was washing his hands. He had moved the "booster box" over and turned on the water and everything. I was about to turn back to examine the painting some more (after seeing it in the reflection of the sink's mirror) when something on Josh's shirt caught my eye. A sunflower-yellow streak of mystery a few inches wide and several inches long had found its place on Josh's turd-colored sweat shirt.
I calmly and rationally shouted, "WHAT IS THAT?"
Josh whipped his heard around, frantically looking for the "thing" I had seen.
I walked over to him, reached under his sweatshirt and held the streak to my nose.
It was indeed a streak of feces.
"How did you poop on your sweatshirt?" I said to Josh, holding up his sweatshirt behind him so he could see it in the mirror.
"It got in the way," he replied, seemingly unworried about the proximity of the crap to his head. After he realized he was wearing his poop, he shouted, "GET IT OFF!"
I grabbed the nearby paper towels, put some warm water on them, and disgustedly wiped until the streak was only an unpleasant memory in my mind and disgusting scent in my nostrils.
After we were through, we headed back to the narthex where Communion was about to begin. I'd forgotten there are so many aspects to potty training.

Done with Psych!

2009-12-18T22:34:00.000-08:00

Finally. The day I've been anticipating since the first midterm is finally here. Psych is over, and I got, no, earned and A on the final. After the hours of dedicated studying, tears, and visits to coffee shops to make me feel better afterwards, I can finally say that I will not need to remember every major psychologist from the last 150 years. And there have been many of those. I'm just glad that I'll be getting at least a decent GPA for my first semester; I thought I wasn't fit for college for a little while. I guess I just needed time to acclimate to "the college exam," and now that I'm finally there, college is becoming much more enjoyable. I still miss the personal connections with my teachers, but besides that, the U is treating me very well.

This week, I've been celebrating Chanukah, which is essentially the Jewish equivalent of Christmas (hyper-commercialized, not even that important of a religious holiday, etc...), but it IS wonderful to light a menorah and [attempt to] sing the Chanukah prayer. I've gladly stepped into my role of lighting the candles and appearing to focused on keeping the candles lit to sing the prayer. Even though I only know the first six words of the Hebrew prayer, I am almost all of the way through the Jewish alphabet, which is very exciting. It comes surprisingly easily; it seems as though I'm meant to learn Hebrew, although I'm sure Richard Dawkins would disagree with that one. Still, the people in my class are enjoyable, and I just finished learning about incorporating Judaism into consumerism. Basically, tying economics in, we should ensure that we consider our impact on society when we purchase. Ie: by organic, fair trade, Kosher, etc... I decided I can do all of this by being Vegan and buying fair trade coffee. The dining services here at the U are a little more about quantity than quality (and socially optimality, presumably), but I've found that to be pretty common here.

Lacking transition, but back to the who GPA thing; I was walking to the library to buy a gingerbread latte, and behind me I heard, "...my last semester of college, and I just missed getting the grade I NEEDED! I've managed to maintain a 3.9+ GPA my entire college career, and after this last set of finals, I'm ending with a 3.87. .03 difference!" And then I walked into the cafe, and she continued on. I empathized with her soooo much. Last year of high school, physics, frisbee golf-oriented teacher = same situation. $5,000 scholarship/year, gone. It's all okay now, though. I studied, I tested, I dominated. Hopefully, this will be the same situation as microeconomics. I'm hopeful. Especially since it's the holiday season. Either way, I'll be able to see my friends and family soon, and as corny as that sounds, I AM looking forward to coming home. Hopefully, I'll be able to commit more time to talking to you all, my countless followers. Stay warm, drink coffee, and love life. Happy Holidays!

Sustaining or Selfish or Selfless?

2009-11-15T21:44:00.000-08:00

I run around the Mississippi River. It is something that I try to do every weekend to burn off the hundreds of extra calories that I consume in my room, attempting to put off my homework. I run a 6.5 mile loop around the river, and usually, I follow this path to a T; even with the lack of variety, I love it. Today, however, I decided to run across the Stone Arch bridges to try and understand why so many people are always on it. I understand now; the view is amazing: the pulsing, foamy water from the dam runs all the way under bridge, and the Minneapolis Skyline throws the most amazing shadows across the water. Because of this change to my run, I had to take a different path back to the U, and I ended running under the I35W bridge (the new one) and under the adjacent 10th Ave. bridge, into a semi-shady area of town (the figurative shady) on the opposite side of the river that I usually run on. As I was running past some old, brick apartments, I saw some boys run away from a shiny silver sedan to the opposite side of the road where they were holding backpacks that were stuffed full. They even had a bag or two lying on the ground (I didn't want to look at them directly). Clearly, they were stealing from this parked car. As I got nearer, I saw one of the boys jump onto the side rail that separated this road from the rail road, and I saw his friend attempting to hide something in one of the already-full backpacks. I just wanted to get past safely and avoid getting mugged myself (even though all I had was my cell phone and room key ((although I do love my cell phone... and I guess access to my [dorm]room)). All was going well until one of the Caucasian gangsters (is this PC?) said to me, "Hey, have a nice run." I finally looked at him in the eyes. They were a chillingly light blue, and his face looked sharp, evil.
"Thanks, I will." I responded and accelerated away.
I thought about calling the cops, but I did not want to involve myself in what was only probably a theft; I mean, maybe they were just in the car to... no, it was definitely a robbery. The weird nervous guy, the overflowing backpacks, the scrambling for the train tracks. But maybe they were a part of a larger operation, maybe even a gang. I've seen my share of gang movies: The Godfather, The Departed, the ButterCream Gang. I know these people are not to be messed with (passive chosen intentionally).
As I attempted to justify my failure to uphold the principals of the Neighborhood Watch act, I quickly came up with a powerful rationale.
What if they had to steal to survive? Maybe they were unable to find employment and had finally turned to robbing and pawning as a means of supporting themselves and maybe their families.
I had never witness a robbery in person before, and who knows, maybe what I saw did not even qualify, but it did get me thinking: why would people risk stealing?
This got me thinking about my own education path, and how I have found myself struggling to make a career decision. Yes, I "have another year and a half," before I "have to decide," but with a year and a half worth of college credits after this semester, I have decided that I need to decide now. College is expensive (duh), and I don't want to burden myself or my family any more than I need to with tuition bills, or interest payments, or rides to and from college. I've thought about switching colleges, either to a well-endowed college out East where I could get a decent financial aid package, or at the local community college next to my hometown where I could attend for free because of my dad's employment there, or even dropping out completely to work at a Starbucks for 40 hours a week until I save enough money to attend college without racking up [tens of?] thousands of dollars worth of debt. I have already spent my grandma's college money endowment, the one year scholarships I received from my hometown and for volunteering at the Mayo Clinic, and the dip into my own savings account has begun. This is so far away from what I dreamed for in a college: full-ride or near full-ride scholarships to a rich Ivy where all I needed to stress about were the classes I would be taking; even then, testing wouldn't matter so much because a B at an Ivy is an A at any other school, right? But no, I'm attending the University of Minnesota - Twin Cities and I'm paying more than $12,000 a year out-of-pocket, struggling to ace my first semester classes.
So... RCTC? I could get my generals out of the way and then come back, but then I would lose all of the connections and friends that I've already made, and my place in the Honors program would disappear (it might after this semester's GPA anyways (and now I'm just being hyperopic)).
Starbucks: I like this option; I could make around $400 a week, and afterwards, I could go to the abutting Barnes & Noble to "self-teach myself." I've even thought of a clever name for the book that I could write afterwards, sponsored by, guess who. I don't want to ruin it. Then, after a couple of years, I could return to the U, or some other random college, and be the weird old guy in all of the sophomore classes.
Oh yeah... career: the point of this whole rant. So, what I've realized is that I love writing, but unfortunately, writing doesn't pay, except in the cases of Dan Brown, JK Rowling, Stephen King (the already educated, magically brilliant, or horrifyingly skilled). If I were to be an orthodontist, on the other hand, I could go ahead and dig myself into debt here at the U, labor through the requirements of a biology degree, hit dental school, follow up with a few years to master orthodontistry, join or open a practice, and BAM, five years later, more or less, with a frugal lifestyle on my part, I would be out of debt and thriving. I would be able to write on the side, no doubt; after all, orthodontics is one of the least time-consuming "medical" fields. The money would be enough for me to have a secure financial future and enough to someday adopt or have a surrogate birth, maybe, a child, or two (again, maybe), and I could raise them in the way that I wish I could have been raised. I will let them find their passions and will cheer them on all the way (not like this video: if they did not like it, they could quit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=klj12Z_ARow). The reason I posted the video was because I LOVED gymnastics when I was little, but my parents simply could not afford to keep me in it. I did not understand, but I accepted it quietly, and disappointedly. With money, I could allow my children to become gold-medal gymnasts, Broadway singers, figure skaters, child-progidy pianists (those were what I would have loved to be), football or soccer stars, spelling-bee champions, stars in anything they were passionate about. I just want my children to have opportunities to pursue any passion they may have. I want them to be able to attend college without worrying whether or not they will be there for their second, third, and fourth years of college. I want them to be able to run without this stress, this need for contemplation. No, I will not pay for their educations (although I secretly might if they are studious and involved, and see how long it takes them to find out); hopefully, their passions will take them to the Yales and Harvards of the world on scholarships because they desire and deserve to be there.
No... my life was not horrible; I would actually change very little if I somehow acquired the ability to do so. My parents utilized their resources to their maximum potentials, allowing me to experience the joys of playing the piano at a very young age (thanks to a clever piano acquisition from a local Catholic family), grow up in a loving, close-knit family, think critically about myself and the world, and develop the skills to take care of myself and foster meaningful relationships. However, I never learned how to do a back handspring on the springy floor of a gymnastics arena, so there was at least one thing I would have changed. Who knows? Maybe there's still time, but realistically, it comes to this:
Do I pick financial security, or do I try to make it in the literary world? People sometimes tell me they enjoy my writing, but would I make enough to be able to fund my children's money-requiring pursuits. Or am I being too selfless now, not thinking of myself. I don't know, I guess.
But with a semester and a month left until I declare my major (I WILL BE declared by the end of this year), all I know is that I don't want to end up pawning off stolen goods to survive.

And the other gold...

2009-10-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

:-) Carly!!! Oh, if I could go back to Italy. No, things are good here. There are always new and interesting things to do. I am taking 20 credits though, so that makes it a little stressful (Don't do it! I should have listened to my advisor). No, but besides the massive amounts of studying, the Twin Cities really are beautiful. I biked to the downtown mall last week, and it was beautiful! I never realized that Minneapolis had so much to offer.

College life is good; the first round of homesickness actually just set in, but I'm sure it's just because I've had so much me time to think about the fam and everyone back in the ole' days. But now that the round of midterms has past, I'm sure joy will abound as it did before midterm week.

The student organizations on campus are awesome; I just helped put on the first "Social Justice Film Festival," and put up almost 300 posters around the campus (6 hours of stapling, pinning, bus rides, etc.). I'm also taking an "Intro to Judaism" class at a temple in Uptown Minneapolis, which has been very exciting so far. And I'm trying veganism, again. I tried it for a week for the "Animal Compassion Veg Week," and I realized that I felt really good when I was eating non-animal foods. And I just got over a coffee addiction (avg. 6 per day to zero; the headaches actually exist :-)).

Most of the friends I've made are from my dorm; some are from the study lounge, and a couple I met at the social justice club I'm in, and another from the international club (of course) that I'm in.

But, enough about me! How are you doing? How was Italy, again? You lucky girl! And how is senior year going? Where are you applying? Do early decision if you can.

So many questions, but you ARE an interesting person. :-)

Sorry about framing my message with smileys; I can't help myself.

:D

PS: I'm thinking of English and Journalism majors, so who knows... a playwright someday. If you want to show up Rogers & Hammerstein, we could make it Buchl & Brown.

Writing Narrative Final

2009-10-19T21:54:00.001-07:00

Sam Buchl
Maureen Aitken
Writing 1401, Section 5
October 7, 2009
Complementary

“If you judge people, you have no time to love them” (Mother Teresa).

“You know how we should solve our energy problems?” I asked my sixth-grade friends who were crammed next to me in the minivan. “We should rub all the gay people to death and use the static energy to make electricity.” The guys in the seat behind me erupted into laughter while Devin, one of the two girls sitting next to me, adopted a look of concern, as though we had just run over a cat on the highway.
“Wimp,” I smirked.
My teammates and I had begun our journey a few hours earlier and were anticipating our arrival to the state quiz-bowl tournament. After discussing the school happenings from the day before, we had finally begun discussing “politics,” as we thought we should to prepare ourselves for the current event quiz questions.
Before the laughter died down, Devin’s mom asked in a horrified tone from the driver’s seat, “Why do you think that?”
Another one of the girls on the team, Anna, gently nudged me and pointed toward the front of the van. I stopped laughing when I saw Devin’s mom’s raised eyebrows in the mirror, framing her piercing blue eyes. She repeated the question again, more severely, for me.
The van had become silent except for its steady ba-bump, ba-bump as it rolled down the highway. I did not really know why I thought that extermination was the solution to the “gay problem,” other than what I knew to be a fact: I was to avoid these people at all costs. In reality, I had never met a gay person before. In my mind, they were the equivalent of monsters or Nazis–things of which I had only ever heard. All the same, I was just kidding, so it did not matter anyway–at least then.
I sat there quietly, trying to think of an answer that would get her off my back; finally, I realized that I could not come up with anything. Conversation started up again around me with a mindless “you’re gay,” or “that’s gay,” thrown in every now and then while I arrived to the realization that it was probably not a good thing to rub anybody to death.
“I guess I don’t know,” I finally replied, keeping my eyes focused on the linty black mat under my preppy black dress shoes.
“You should never say anything like that about anyone,” replied Devin’s mom.
I looked up to see her eyes finally refocus on the road, where they should have been watching the entire time. Maybe there actually were gay people out there, and maybe they were not as evil as monsters or Nazis.
When I was younger, my parents never formally discussed anything about homosexuality; however, they never condoned using the word “gay” condescendingly. When my brother got me out in a small two-person game of dodge ball we had created in the family room, I reflexively yelled, “You’re gay.” Unfortunately, and not according to my plans, my mom heard what I had said–or maybe yelled.
She quickly pulled me out of the room onto the narrow flight of stairs that led out of our basement. Her normally bright and blonde features looked dark and intimidating as she stood above me, blocking out the light. “Never call anyone that. Do you know what that means?”
“No?” I answered innocently and truthfully. I tried to bolt past her up the stairs, so the light would illuminate her face. My mom’s familiar friendly expression was gone, and I wanted it back.
She stepped to block me, lowered herself down to my level and said gravely, “Just don’t say it again.” She paused, and she relaxed a little. “And take your game of dodge ball outside.”
Soon after that, I came home from school after playing a variation of football called “Smear the Queer,” with my friends. As I sat down at our small kitchen table to eat a snack of cheese and crackers with my older brother, a rising middle-school football star himself, I excitedly explained the game to him. Again, my mom eavesdropped and called me aside.
Dropping the half-eaten cracker, I followed my mom into her bedroom. I saw the intensity in her eyes contrasted against the soothing earth tones of the room’s walls. “Do you know what that means? Do you know what “queer” means?”
Again, I told her no and promised not to use the term again.
The next day on the football field next to the playground, I held the football as I tried to introduce the game to my group of friends as “Cream the Carrier,” explaining that “queer” was a swear word. After seeing my friends’ faces go blank, I reluctantly decided that I would simply accept the name of the game as it was but not talk about it in front of my parents.
Throughout middle school, I continued to be oblivious to the “gay” issue by simply ignoring it; however, I did decide not to use the word as a negative adjective. Eventually, I started watching the televised news reports about the gay rights movement, always hoping, and often praying, that the courts would never legalize gay marriage. My parents mentioned it on occasion, due to its newfound newsworthiness, in brief and negative snippets. My dad would talk to my brothers and me about how “some men aren’t real men,” discretely alluding to homosexual males whenever such news broadcasts came on the television. From my experiences with the words “queer” and “gay,” I knew that this group of people must be inherently evil.
I held that belief for quite a while, just like everyone else in my grade; it was not like there was anyone like “that” at my school, was there? I would occasionally sit down at the lunch table and hear some of my friends chattering about who “might be gay.” I had already learned my lesson about using the vulgar word in elementary school, so I would just sit at the end of the table and talk about other things with my former quiz-bowl teammate and closest friend, Anna. She would always roll her eyes whenever the others started talking about the could-be gays; instead, she would strike up less-offensive, more-interesting conversations with me and anyone else who cared to listen. Anna’s witty comments about everyday life always enthralled me; I was content just to watch her brown eyes flash with excitement while the others babbled on about sports games, Friday-night parties, and high school relationships–things that seemed trivial in my mind.
Anna’s and my relationship had begun to blossom in the beginning of our freshmen year. We worked on a theatrical history project, where our mutual perfectionism drove us to produce a ridable, cardboard-box tank for our reproduction of the Tiananmen Square Massacre. Later in the year, we both decided to volunteer at the local hospital. We bonded as we explored normally off-limits areas–such as the hospital’s ancient bell tower and castle-like medical school library–all the while wearing our official volunteer vests and nametags. At the end of our sophomore year, we performed a puppet show with life-sized, handicapped puppets to teach preschoolers about disabilities. Then we created a scrapbook to present at the regional and state community-service recognition conferences, where judges selected us to represent the Minnesota state association at the national convention in Nashville.
A few days before our flight, I decided to ask Anna out. Our lives were already so intertwined: we both worked as lifeguards at the same pool, had similar interests, and would sometimes finish each other’s sentences; this was exactly the way formal relationships were supposed to start. Moreover, many of my friends had told me to “make it official.”
The day before our departure, I invited her to play a game of tennis with me at the courts next to the pool. Because we had just finished swimming lessons for the week and I had brought rackets and tennis balls, she eagerly agreed. After getting the ball over the net and into the appropriate square a few times, we both agreed that the blazing sun was too much for us and decided to go back to the pool to cool off before it opened to the public for the afternoon.
On the short walk to the pool, I finally dropped the question–or rather, an awkward and untraditional variation of it. “Hey Anna, you know how everyone thinks we’re already going out?” Inside, I started feeling a crushing feeling, but my tone conveyed the masculinity of a mature young man. “Do you just want to do it: go out?”
“Of course!” she replied enthusiastically, almost expectantly.
The pressure left, and things were great during that short swim; we both smiled at each other every few seconds as we raced across the pool. Things were fantastic in Nashville as well, and we even held hands as we went on a hayride at a genuine rodeo. I decided at the hotel that our relationship had lasted long enough for us to have our first kiss, so I led her to the indoor waterfall located in the hotel’s gigantic indoor greenhouse.
Anna seemed to know what was going on and skillfully struck up a conversation about our scrapbook presentation to stall until the couple already under the waterfall walked away. When it was finally our turn, she grabbed my hand in anticipation, leading me exactly where I had planned to take her. I determinedly took charge and hollered over the roaring water, “Would it be all right if I kissed you?”
She nodded, we both leaned in, the romantic tweens that we were, and I fleetingly kissed her on the cheek.
“Just the cheek?” she spoke into my ear, clearly unsatisfied.
We both leaned in again and clumsily kissed on the lips, holding it long enough for her foot pop off the ground, a perfect first take of a first-kiss scene. As soon as we recovered our balance, we proudly half-walked, half-skipped away from the waterfall on the cobblestone path into the artificial rain forest, passing young couples who were forming a queue for the waterfall where we had waited.
When school started, the relationship became awkward. Anna and I were not comfortable with each other and were becoming more distant. It seemed odd to me that we both seemed scared to be seen with each other in the halls. Why did I feel so apathetic? This was not how relationships were supposed to work. I finally took the initiative to break up by asking a random girl to dance for the last slow song at our homecoming hoedown.
After a couple of tense months in which we carpooled to hospital volunteering, communicating only in curt conversations of necessity, I finally apologized to Anna for the poor dancing decision. She, in turn, apologized for “not putting her real self into the relationship.”
“I think it would be best if we were just friends,” she asserted.
Relief rushed over me as I squeezed the steering wheel in joy. Things were going to return to the way they used to be. I knew it.
Over the last few months of sophomore year and the entirety of our junior year, our relationship did grow stronger as I had predicted. We were the textbook case of a platonic couple. Though others might have thought there was something extraordinary about our relationship, we did not let it affect how we saw each other. It was not until a bonfire at the end of our junior summer that I finally understood why our dating relationship had not worked.
On that cool summer night, Anna and I were lying on the dewy grass next to each other. In the distance, we could see the silhouettes of our classmates sitting around the bonfire, staring at its orange and red flames. We had snuck away, as we often did at bonfires, to talk about what we considered “profound” things such as life, its meaning, and our futures in it. After we agreed we would both write at least one book sometime in our lives, Anna’s phone rang, and she excitedly answered it.
“It’s Devin!” she squealed, rolling onto her elbows, slumber-party style, and pressed some buttons on her phone.
Soon Devin’s voice came over the loudspeaker, and we started asking her how things were going at her new school. After a while, the girls’ alto voices began making me heavy-eyed, so I stopped talking and lay down to look at the stars above and around me, breathing in the pine and oak scents of the fire. Occasionally, I could hear a pop or a crackle and then see the glowing trails of ashes fly into the darkness.
The phone conversation was starting to slow down when I heard Devin’s tone become tensely higher as she said, “Anna, there’s something I have to tell you... I’m not gay.”
After a long pause, Anna let forth a loud sob as Devin attempted to diffuse the situation, repeating, “I’m sorry; I’m sorry.”
I lifted my head off the ground to see Anna, who was looking at the phone in disbelief. With the push of a button, she silenced the apologizing voice. She continued crying and rolled back over to look up at the stars with me.
So... Anna is lesbian. I rested my head back on the damp grass and thought back to our perfectly executed kiss under the waterfall to our first–and last–French kiss we had shared as we had followed the example of the couple in the chick flick we had been watching. I remembered feeling mixed emotions about that kiss: accomplishment, but more powerfully, disgust. Finally, I understood why our romantic relationship had been so awkward for me.
“Hey Anna,” I whispered, tears now coming to my eyes as I attempted to console her. “It’s okay; I’m gay too.”
Anna’s moaning abated as she looked over in an attempt to read my face; I watched the consternation on her face as she returned her focus to the stars. Finally, she stopped crying all together and looked over at me again. With a small, but hopeful smile on her face, she asked, “Really?”
I sheepishly nodded.
Though at the time it seemed embarrassing, it did not seem weird to me; it seemed right. I scooted even closer to Anna and put my arm under her head, giving her a tight squeeze to let her know I was there for her. I finally understood that judging people for their sexual orientation was wrong. Indeed, we were neither monsters nor Nazis, but friends, holding each other in our most loving embrace.

Email to Mom

2009-10-18T20:51:00.000-07:00

Hey Mom,

The weekend is going well; I went to the World Premier of Moulin Rouge at the Northrop Auditorium. It was a super fancy ballet (everyone was in suits and the like), and it only cost me $10! I went with two people from my dorm and one from my Spanish class. It was spectacular. Make Josh do ballet! :-) Just kidding... Studies are okay; finals were not the best (I didn't ace them). I got a B- in psych (I thought I was prepared, but I guess not so much); Spanish (94; decent); microeconomics (92); and writing (98). So yeah, there's definitely room for improvement, so I've been a bit more of a nerd than a socializer this last week, and I plan on doing it all again this week. I've actually started to enjoy studying; I think you've rubbed off me some, mom. :-)

I biked downtown this Friday, which was spectacular. My phone died after I tried upgrading it, so I took it to the sprint store on Nicollet mall to get it fixed. While I was down there, I bought a watch, found a jewelry store, got some links taken out, and went to a fancy luncheon at the Minneapolis Convention Center to hear speakers for National Coming Out Day. There was a fantastic group of speakers, a father and his lesbian daughter, both of whom are Catholic, and both of whom are successful (the daughter is still a practicing Catholic, has two kids, and has been in a committed relationship (married maybe?) for over 20 years. Check out http://www.amazon.com/Closets-Heaven-Catholic-Lesbian-Daughter/dp/0929636791/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1255924220&sr=8-1 . I wish you could have been there, mom.

No job yet; I decided that it would be near impossible for me to work for the Jewish Community Center (6 mile commute). I am thinking about getting a job at the REC aquatic center here at the U (much closer, not quite the pay, but money's money).

I lost my U card, which basically has everything on it. I lost it sometime between 11 p.m. last night and 1 a.m this morning (I went to the study lounge to study with one of the girls with whom I went to Moulin Rouge), so it must be somewhere in my room or the study lounge, but I've looked everywhere, so I'm going to the Ucard office tomorrow morning at 8 to see if I can get one for free and get my old one deactivated. I'm hoping to avoid the 15 dollar fee, but I'll see.

The picture that Hannah saw was one of me at the Jewish Center's freshmen dinner. I really am attracted to the Jewish community, and I think it would be a good way for me to explore the older testament part of my faith while also being accepted. Unlike the Catholic church, they have a sect (the reform Jews) that accepts homosexuals completely. I actually went to here a lesbian rabbi from New York speak about her faith, and it was really refreshing. I never really considered a homosexual AND spiritual lifestyle, but I think even you might have liked her, mom.

Don't worry about me being promiscuous; whenever I meet someone I would like, I think of you, and [yelling] dad, so yeah, don't worry about me having a relationship. I think maybe my role is to convince the Church through my writing that homosexuality is acceptable. So, yeah, this week, my potential majors are English and Journalism. (Last week was English and Biology).

I love you all, and I think of you often, especially JJ. I hope everything is going well down there; I'm beginning to love the cities and am planning on being a CA next year (the equivalent of RA for most campuses), so I won't have to pay for room or board.

Love,

Sam

Al hospital manana...

2009-09-19T20:48:00.001-07:00

So... I've been lazy about blogging this last week, but most of my happenings have involved academia regularities. Yes... I know; more excuses. I'll hit the hi-lights.

I went for my first run last Saturday evening; it was beautiful. I ran down to the good ole' Mississippi, across a bridge, down to the old bricked Main Street, onto Nicollet Island, and past the old flour factory before arriving back to the U. I'm looking forward to the seeing the leaves start to change color and fall; it will make the already scenic run even better.

Classes are finally under control. So, yes... I'm sticking with 20 credits this semester, but GLBTA 3610 doesn't involve too much studying, so I tell most people 17 just so they don't gasp. We are finally getting to the service-learning part of GLBTA, which I am very excited about. I hope I get a position at the QSCC (Queer Student Cultural Center) because it is awesome.

Which leads me into my next awesome adventure of the last week: Arch (the coming out club at the QSCC). I figured that there would be more than just people who needed help coming out, and there were. Considering I've already started my outing journey, I wouldn't have fit in there if it were. But anyways... I had imagined that there would be at least 100 people, there maybe 1000 (considering the number of undergrads at the U is more than 20,000). Assuming that 10% of the population is gay, that would mean there should really be 2,000 GLB or T people on campus, and I had guessed that at least half would come. There were 4 other people at the meeting when I arrived, and a few more showed up throughout the 1.5 hour meeting. The moderator for the club is bi, and her girlfriend had her arm around her the hold time... I really liked the moderator because she seemed very poised and intelligent (and thoughtful). We started with an ice breaker of Apples to Apples. I won the first round (I think the adjective was down & dirty), but didn't win any of the subsequent. There were no other freshmen guys there, which was obviously disappointing, but the moderator did invite me to come look at her house (they're looking for 2 more people). I told her I probably wouldn't be able to move in until winter if I did because of the agreement with the U. We talked about a lot of things, and I told my coming out story (abridged). Finally, I checked out a book (The Best Little Boy in the World), which I thought I lost until this afternoon. So, overall, a great experience at the "Q."

I came back to the dorms after Arch and started reading the book. When my roommate was ready for bed, I put the book under my pillow, so he wouldn't see it sitting on the floor or chair or wherever I decided to throw it. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I heard the sound of a book hitting the ground and though, "Oh. I'll just have to make sure I'm up first to hide the book." I was up first, but I couldn't find the book, which got me worried. I began wondering if my roommate had picked it up, read the hook on the outside cover ("The Classic Account of Growing up Gay") and wanted to see what it and I were all about. He left soon after I got up (to go to a wedding), and I left for the same run I had taken on the Saturday before. As with the first run, this run took me past hundreds of Gopher fans heading towards the stadium. One girl shouted to me as I ran past her, "You should be drunk." The day before, I had read that getting drunk means the drink feels as though he or she lacks purpose. Well, I had a purposeful run in mind, and a Mayo Clinic study to go to the next day, so I declined her suggestion.

Which brings me to tonite... So, I haven't been procrastinating at college, but now that I'm back home for the Mayo Clinic study (they'll pay me $400 to spend 24 hours in the hospital to eat free food and test some new broccoli pills ((just the gist of the whole thing)), I have been putting off editing my Spanish paper. So I'll get to that just after I finish this up.

Generalities for the week:
Ravenous hunger; could it be adjustment again?
Sleepiness; again... adjustment?
Change to biology major (FOR SURE!...?)
Getting faster at swimming (I've been watching the speedy swimmers who have been passing me at the REC).

Also, I went to the first Students Crossing Borders meeting, which was interesting... I really do think I'm going through adjustment right now though, or mild depression; I've been lacking interest in other people for the last couple of weeks. Maybe I am lacking purpose. Becoming a psychiatrist will change all of that.

Welcome Week... Ah!

2009-09-06T09:06:00.000-07:00

I've finally begun a new stage in my life, and just when the summer was starting to get fun.

Monday:
Went to the dentist and got my teeth cleaned; the dental assistant recommended that I be an orthodontist if I want a low-stress, high-paying job. She was very cool. After that, I went home and packed, packed, packed. Most of the clothes were already good to go, but I had to get everything else together, which didn't happen very effectively until we FINALLY GOT THE PURPLE VAN. As our second vehicle made in the 21st century (the red car is the first), it serves the purpose of college-stuff transporter very well. It's a Dodge Grand, and I managed to fit everything that I wanted in it. We didn't leave until 7:30, however, and the ride up was a tad obnoxious. My dad kept asking me questions about the future, sometimes repeating the questions he had just asked minutes before. Thank goodness Minneapolis is only an hour and a halfish away from the cities and not 6, like ND.

It was rather hilarious when my dad tried to give me the "be good" speech. It went like this:

"Well, you know, Sam, that college is a time when you'll be tempted to veer to the left."

"Politically?" I laughed at him.

End of conversation. They didn't even talk to me about being gay, and the only other advice/requirements of theirs was "No drugs, sex, or alcohol," which they've said since I was 10.

When we got to the U, I ran inside to register, grabbed a big blue roller move in box, and loaded up my things. After 2 trips, everything was in my room, although very unorganized. It took me about 6 hours total to get everything organized, and my roommate stopped by with some of his friends to get an idea of the layout of the room before he moved in the next day. They all seemed very friendly and interesting, and proper, all of which are good things. Around 2, I hit the sack and woke up again around 10 to continue cleaning. Then, around noon, I headed out to meet up with Sarah and Jenny at their new apartment. After almost getting hit by a car, I finally arrived to their house, via the map that google provided. Their apartment is super chic and fabulous, and Jenny is a great cook (couscous!). I came back and met up with my Welcome Week leaders for the first time. We went into a classroom in one of the nearby buildings and learned each others names and then returned back to the dorms to decorate cookies. This was when I met Etta, a crazy awesome pianist from Chaska. I listened to her play Fantasie Impromptu by Chopin, which was crazy awesome, and then we did the cookies (loaded with metro guys, but I stuck with Etta).

Okay, so the rest of this is a letter I wrote to Anna at "Letter Writing & Tea." :

I figured I would, or should, take this opportunity to write you a letter. Who knows if you're through the hell of your car ride yet, but I hope your parents are being a little more cooperative. And I google-stalked Luke's school; Hamilton, right? And Mitch... the "closeted." Notre Damer. I wish he would just switch to Carleton, but I guess the education (academic) is fine. I suppose you've been listening to the Cassie-breakup mix a fair amount, to match the mood, I suppose.

So... I'll quickly summarize Welcome Week, or just hit the highlights maybe. Right off the bat, we were separated into Welcome Week (WW) groups where I met 30-ish people. The next morning, I talked with "Curious Crystal" (from the previous night's icebreaker activities) about China (where she's from). Actually, we started by talking about her classes and then China to which she said, "Let's talk alter." We haven't talked yet. Oh, China... So then we had our gigantic convocation in the hockey arena which was decent. THere were some weird screamer protestors who ran away while the college president was speaking, and he cleverly redeemed himself y inciting how "our students know how to use the 1st right: freedom of speech; however, we also hope they will use it cordially and respectfully." We all gathered later that night at the TC Bank Stadium (It's band new!) and the coach told us that he wanted all of us to be the "twelfth man on the team; we need you to be at all of our home games, her at TCF. We need you to give us a home field advantage. And when we're on the road, I need you to gather around your TV's and cheer us on there." Ha. Then we gathered on the field of take a giant picture of an M... all 5,000+ of us. Other highlights included visiting Uptown (very quaint, cute, and gay) and going to the Mall of AMerica where Sarah, Jenny, Jenny's two friends (Alex & David - I thought gay, but who knows...), and I went to Underwater Adventures, which was awesome! At times, it looked like the fish were right next to us, not even separated by glass. THen I waited in line for an hour with 3 Asians. One was from Hong Kong, 2 were from China, and the 2 girls from China were both into me. Pity. This seems to be a recurring theme; I can't tell if I'm just attractive to female Asians because they are actually attracted to me for my personality or because thy want to live in the U.S. Regardless, they all were extremely friend and had interesting background stories. And the low-lights. Darfur. Important? Yes. A problem? Yes. Something I'm interested in helping out with? Not any more. We watched and hour and a half long movie about a "broken soldier" who tried to help out in. Then, a global studies (something to do with genocide) major spoke about STAND (something... Darfur) and then had her star president call a congressman and leave him a message about helping out in Darfur. DARFUR! Aagh! So yeah... Ayn Rand is kicking in in every aspect of my life, and kicked in in about 15 minutes into the movie (help the US, not others Darfur.... but what about the Good Samaritan?) And I forgot to mention SHADE! One of our sessions (not a low-light, maybe even a highlight) taught us about sexual health. It was super awkward. When I walked in, I saw a condom at each desk and a bucket-full of condoms on the fron table. They passed around dental dams, lube, the like *wait,... I already told you about hits; oh well), and I grabbed a few on the way out the door, so I wouldn't be the only one who didn't. So six condoms later, I was sitting in a beautiful Catholic Church with a Guthrie-like singer, and, foolishly, I wasn't paying attention to y bag. Consequently, the bag fell over and some condoms spilled out on the pew. The sign of peace was awkward with the woman next to me. She was older (60-ish) and wearing expensive jeans, and definitely not exchanging peace through our handshake.

Monday was pretty chillax, and I slept in until noon, so I could catch brunch at Middlebrook and not need to starve all morning. I also took a NyQuill to help me sleep, and I woke up feeling very air-headed. So just cruised around the campus, bought my book for the GLBTA Leadership class I'm taking (I will probably get to go to D.C., Chicago, and NYC!) with Jenny (I convinced her to do it). Then, I came back to Middlebrook and went to the Hillel Jewish Center on University Avenue and ate some delicious burgers (the veggie ones were excellent, and all were Kosher). I met Sarah, the coolest Jewish feminist who is also on the Transgender Commission at the U. I told her I was doing the GLBTA Year, and she practically shouted about in excitement about it to all of the Jewish people, so that was quite awkward. The Catholic Gay is trying to convert. What?! So, yeah... I went to her apartment to try to fix her printer, but yeah. She's awesome. Hillary posters all over the wall; civil rights activists poster. I asked if she was G, L, B, T, or A, and she said A; although, I got some vibes. You two should meet up. After her apartment, some of the Jews text me to have malts with them at Annie's, a cool restaurant that you may have seen (it's got an outdoor 2nd story deck). Then they took me back to their frat and told me about their campus-wide beer-pong tournaments "or root beer pong, if you want," joked one of the older members. Apparently, the creator of facebook was in Alpha Epsilon Pi, so yeah, who knows. Maybe, I'll even be Jewish by this winter and go to Israel for free. Jews rock! (The malts were free, by the way; thank you AEPi.)

So today was my first day of classes, and it was rather hectic. I love my profs, or at least 3 of them. They all seem really good, intelligent, funny. 9-10 is Span 1004 with Adriana Bradford. We had to describe our hobbies to her, and she, in turn, described hers to us with her slight-Columbian accent. "For my hobbies? Well, I like to read, watch movies, hang out with friends, like everyone." Very cool. I did some Spanish homework in between Span and writing, and my professor for writing was super-friendly and seemed very knowledgeable about every book that we mentioned today in class. After Writ, I had to bike through probably 2,000 people to get to a small copy shop on Oak St. and University to get my writing notes and back across the bridge to microeconomics on West Bank. Our prof for that was Asian, but has lots of awards and could speak English very well (he even used words (word) I didn't know). he cracked many actually funny jokes, only leaving off the occasional s, but still great. The psych prof was good, but IO had just eaten soup and salad from Comstock, so his typical-psychologist (super-soothing) voice almost put mt too sleep. He seemed cool; I'll just have to make sure I have caffeine and sit next to the girl I met with tje Jews (she's from Hayfield). I came back to my dorm, unsuccessfully attempted to take a nap *phone call). Went to the rec (swam! I miss the pool a tad) and met up with Sarah for dinner. The Jews invited me to their frat again, but I had to do homework (this has been as far as I've gotten). So now, I really should start with my real homework. I wish you the best of luck and the brightest most open-minded of conversations as you continue your trip. When you get this, you'll probably be in a better place. Ha - creepy. Have fun at Dartmouth; I already know you'll fit in (you do already).

Your boy with Love,

Sam

Final HS Summer Week

2009-08-30T22:23:00.000-07:00

Ah... sigh... it's all come to an end. Tomorrow I'll be shopping for college stuff, and the next day I'll be moving into my apartment. I'll quickly recap the things I did as more of a journal entry than a blog post, with important things that I remember.

Went up to the cities to meet Devin at her dentist
She was done earlier than I thought, so no waiting for me :)
Drove down to Winona
Visited book shops and cafes, listened to the 31 songs on myfaves playlist
Met up with Kara for dinner at her beautiful dining center
Met Anna and Heidi
Drove to bee-y drive-in diner and ate a 50 cent ice cream cone
Went to Alison's to chat
Heidi's for the night
Ate breakfast at yet another cafe (sausage omelet - yum!)
Drove to Viterbo
Dropped Nat off (we visited her room before we left; nice campus)
Drove back to Kasson and made Dev some Spanish rice
Volunteered and met up with the crew in Roch for chatting and sheet shopping with Anna and her mom, dinner at Bebe's pizza
Thursday's on first with Anna and her family, left for dinner with Aunt Steph at Aunt Mary's and Uncle Dennis'; ate some lasagna (CARBS :()
Lots of running down to Mantorville
Left my younger brother behind (hehehehe)
VIsited Jalissa
Got a ticket with Janae on the way up (She got the ticket, but can take a course in Goodhue to get rid of it (71 in 55:D)
Socializing
Controlled atmosphere, social beverage-izing
Staying up late chatting slumber party
Crashed next to Janae and Jenny, chatted with Ashley and her new New Jersey-an roommate
Waking up late
Showered and cleaned up, as always

Halie: "I don't drink to socialize; I drink to get drunk."
Darin: "There's nothing wrong with that."
Me (thinking): That's how I feel sometimes, but I'm getting better (como this night at Jalissa's :D!)

Going swimming
HSM-type pictures, just fun in general
Chilaxing in the apartment
Getting free tickets from Mikaela
As we were leaving, Mikaela ran up to my car and handed me 6 free tickets, which I distributed to Darin, Halie, and Me
Going to Valley Fair with Annie, James, and Hannah
I cut across the state in the most bizarre way... Hmmmm...
Stopping by Jalissa's again
With some raspberry mocha; watched Ella Enchanted, taught her some Photoshop tricks
Home for my last Sunday night of sleep

Round 2: Adjustment

2009-08-24T16:41:00.000-07:00

Ugh... so ever since, oh, i don't know, this Friday evening/Saturday morning, I have felt like I'm going back into my adjustment-ish phase (dealing with the college rejections from months ago). I know this is pathetic of me, but I wanted so badly for the last 7 years, to get into an elite private college. Now, I realize that I shouldn't have aimed so high up, but should have gotten out of state, which was what I wanted more. All I've been doing lately is sleeping and watching 30 Rock, which at least is still making me laugh. I sound like such a baby.

So, yesterday, I finished What Dreams May Come by Richard Matheson, a book about death (great), and then I ran over to Ashley's house where I gave her a goodbye letter that ended up being too much about me (sorry Ash). She's off to her awesome out-of-state college too, UW-Madison.

Here's my quick plot summary of the book:

Chris died; he left his body (1st death) and tried to communicate with his children and wife; only Richard, his son, could sense his presence, so he got a psychic kid, Perry, who could still see Chris after his second death. His wife didn't believe in life after death, though, so she thought she was just being mocked. Then Chris died a second time, and soon he was in Summarland, a place where thought are made a reality, and pain exists no more. There, a late relative of his, Albert, shows him around the whole heaven-like setup and explains that he can build his own house just by thinking about it. Chris, however, is still distraught about his separation from his wife, and soon learns that they were soul mates (on the same vibration). Albert turns Chris over to Joanna (Joanne?), so he can continue his work of attempting to bring people out of the less heavenly third lives into the more heavenly life where Chris has made it to. While he's with Joann, he learns that his wife's natural death age was 72, 24 years from the present moment in heaven. After listening to a beautiful musical concert, he learns that his wife committed suicide before her natural death date, and would need to wait for 24 years before she could get into heaven. Chris wouldn't put up with that, so he decides to go on a third life soul search across the third world universe to try and find his wife. After experiencing heaven, hell, and everything in between, he finally finds his wife on a barren plain where a replica of her earthly house exists. After trying to convince Ann that he is real, he ends up accepting his position in that world. However, he falls asleep, and while he's asleep, he returns back to heaven, and Ann returns back to earth with the strength he had given her from his talking to her. Then, he learns about becoming reborn on earth and decides to become a doctor who will help those in India where Ann has been reincarnated. It only mattered that they were together.

So that's that. I need to go for a run down to Mantorville today to thwart my unhealthy sedentary lifestyle of the last few days, and I also NEED to finish my application for the Sabes Jewish Community Center. By the way, I got half of my braces off today! The second half are coming off on Thursday!

Let Me Explain...

2009-08-22T22:19:00.000-07:00

Another busy week has flown past, and my final Friday at the pool passed mostly without a hitch. I visited the library and checked out 12 new books, returning the Odyssey and Robinson Crusoe. I decided that I should simply read the books that interest me, not just the ones others say are good. Perhaps this isn't the wisest strategy, but for the last few weeks of summer, I think it will work out well for me. Yesterday, I read 6 different Junie B. Jones books (in 2.5 hours!). I hadn't even thought of reading YA books until I got to the library and they had a JBJ bookstand set up. She's in first grade now! Amazing. I also checked out season one of 30 Rock, which I finally realized stands for 30 Rockefeller etc... Tina Fey is a gem, I tell you... me.

After my busy Friday afternoon (finally finished my scholarship thank you for the Lee Moran scholarship --- thank you Ms. Katherine McGarity!) which included the library visit, cleaning at the pool (where I was finally reimbursed for the lifeguard trainings!) and running the bike trail, Janae and I agreed to walk-pool to Jalay's end of the summer senior celebration. And this is where I have some explaining to do.

So, things were going well at Jalay's house, but I was feeling a teensy bit left out. It's not anyone's fault; it's just that I am a boy, and I can't fit into Ashley, Janae, and Sarah's conversations all of the time. So Janae and I started making videos in Jalay's garage, which was fun. Then I saw a bottle of Crown on top of her fridge, and I had to try it. Which I did. Things were at a very reasonable level soon afterwards. I was sociable; and everyone was happy, but I was scared that things were going to start wearing off, so I snuck back for a couple more shots. After that, things started getting a little to excitable for me. Ashley and Sarah left, and Janae said that she was going to go too. I didn't really want to go because I was having a BLAST, but I did feel reponsible to make sure Janae at least made it to my house safely, so I decided that I would leave with her. Just as we were embarking away from Jalay's house, Anna and her cousin turned around the corner, and Janae and I hopped in (off to my house!). Anna smoothed things over with Jalay, and we went into my basement where I threw on Parent Trap... Why couldn't I have just let things stop there?

Just to prove that I was a hospitable party guest, I offered everyone some vino; only Anna accepted. I cruised upstairs and got too plastic cups (one for her, one for me), and poured them full with wine (mine had more :( ). I quickly chugged the wine and started ranting on about how Laura McDowell's name was Laura Arndt, and I don't even know where I came up with that. Either way, I was annoying, and Anna kept going on about how I had already replaced her, which I hadn't. Things ended with me throwing up in the tiny downstairs bathroom, returning to the laps of my friends and falling asleep.

So, here's where the whole "let me explain" part of this comes in. I feel as though I've been depending on alcohol to make me feel socially lubricated, when, apparently, laughter is supposed to do the exact same thing. I've decided that I will no longer have as much as I did last night, or at Jalay's or at Paige's the summer before. I even mulled over the idea of completely stopping, which would be good, but I really do love wine, so... Is it my strict Catholic upbrining? Is it me, secretly hoping that I will meet someone while I am UI who will end up being my soul mate? Hopefully not the latter (how pathetic would that be?). People all around me are happy without the alcohol, and I really should be, and can be too. I'm sorry to everyone who has had to deal with the annoying me, and I hope that I've never made anyone feel... too pressured into doing anything (ie: goodnight kiss). I can't promise that I'll stop having wine, but I will definitely stop binge drinking. And by publishing this on the world wide web, for everyone to see, I hope I can hold to this decision that I've made. Now, where's the vino?

Working tomorrow, finally!

2009-08-17T11:53:00.000-07:00

Ah... so much has happened, as always. In the past few days, I've been to a Twin's game, visited Jalissa's new apartment, and in general, eaten way too much. And I work tomorrow, so that, coupled with the whole eating way too much, yeah...

Twin's game:

It was 8:10 a.m., and I looked over to my cell phone on the shelf across the room.

"Ugh," I thought, "another day of not working."

Then I remembered that I had to be at the bus heading off to the Twin's game in less than a half an hour. I hopped out of my bed, grabbed some clothes and barreled down the stairs into the bathroom. I showered, ate breakfast, etc... and then headed back up to my room where I packed my things together, and even remembered to grab my headphones, so I could listen to some music on my cell phone. I planned on stopping by Erdmann's to get some granola bars. However, by the time I was driving, I realized that I probably needed to just go to the bus stop. Suddenly, a genius idea came to me (at the same moment, however, apparently Janae saw me driving, so I didn't see her (you - sorry!)); what if I parked at the school and just walked to Erdmann's if the bus wasn't there yet, considering the old elementary school and Erdmann's are a half a block away. Genius, no? So that's what I did, and by the time I got back, the bus was there. No waiting for me (waiting = wasting)!

Okay, so maybe I did need to wait for a few more people to come on the bus, but finally Maggie (the other lifeguard) came on the bus, the City of Kasson guy gave me the check for the game (and I, playing my part, pretended I knew exactly what to do with it). Maggie and I chatted about the different private schools in the cities, and I told her about the semi-snobby girl from "The Breck School," and she told me that the girls there were voted the ugliest. Haha, snob-O girl.

When we got off the bus at the Twin's game, I really had no clue where to go, but fortunately, one of the dad's recommended that we go to the nearest ticket box thinger, so we did. However, at the box, the seller-woman said I had to go to the opposite side (literally, half-way around) to buy our tickets for the Park and Rec day. So, embarrassedly, with a consoling Maggie at my side, I walked over to the other side where I had to wait in line for a few minutes to buy my tickets. We had the "cheap seats," more appropriately called, "bleeder seats," by the group of old men from Kasson.

Maggie and I were not going to settle for such crappy seats, of course, so we did one lap around the dome to figure out where we could sit and not get caught. We did one more half lap and ended up right in line with the pitcher and home plate (still on the upper deck, unfortunately). When the ticket checker lady went to help someone else, we confidently and quickly walked into the viewing area and up to our "seats," praying that someone else wouldn't have our tickets. Incidentally, after about 10 minutes, we found out that a group of ladies did. However, we were prepared.

"Oh, are these your seats?" I asked innocently.

"Yes," they laughed.

Without a pause, I responded, "Well, our dad just told us to sit somewhere around here (gesturing in a circle), so we'll just slide down."

They laughed and smiled, and we scooted down. However, Rhoda (I just made up her name), the ticket-taker lady, saw that there was a skirmish (I'm sure we weren't the only ones who ever tried that) and started walking up toward us. Maggie asked me if I wanted to leave, which of course, I did, so we sped across the bleachers and down the next row (Rhoda was old), and escaped back into the food court. We had tried.

After a long eight innings in the bleeder seats (where I bought a $4 dollar lemonade, what a rip! I could have made 4 gallons of lemonade at home for that price, whatever), Maggie and I decided to try one more time. This time, we set our expectations high and snuck pass the disabled ticket-checker man in a wheel chair down to the lower deck with the food service people. Finally, we sat out the 9th inning in the home-run section of the lower deck. Still crappy, but at least closer to the Punto guy on the field.

After the game, we rocketed back upstairs to try to find some of the other Kasson people, but just ended up meeting at the bus on the opposite side of the dome. After some crafty maneuvering by the bus driver, we returned to Kasson. (By the way, I had forgotten my cell phone at home, so, consequently, it was a music-free bus ride for me).

Jalissa's apartment:

I dropped Maggie off at her house, and returned home to call Janae and let her know when I would be able to leave for Jalissa's. After eating a snackish dinner, packing my things, and doing other loungish things, I departed for Janae's. I threw her stuff in the back seat of my car, and we headed off towards Mantorville (instead of Erdmann's and Kwik Trip), where we stopped at the Mantor Mart as a time-saving measure. We cruised up to Rosemount, stopped by the small DCTC campus, and found Jalissa's very, very new apartment (everything smelled like new and chemicals mixed!). Once there, we spread out our blankets to sit on the floor, and looked through Jalissa's school textbooks until the Halvorsons arrived. Then we played Cranium until Jalissa's other friends arrived (Allison Ruby, among others), and they offered us some grape juice, in which I indulged, and left shortly after that. We chatted, went to Kwik Trip, etc...

I'll skip my speech about why everyone should give me a goodnight kiss, and post that later.

So, I woke up the next morning (first one up!), showered, and then went back to bed. Soon, Janae and Blaine were up playing the Wii, so I decided to join them (I lost a game of baseball, just like the Twins had lost to the Royals). Then we made some eggs for breakfast, and Ashley and I had oatmeal, and then we headed down to the pool (after I cleaned up the living room and kitchen area). The pool was beautiful, and chilly. I swam a few laps, jumped into some people's arms, and finally got out to lie in the sun. After I listened to Janae, Ashley, and Jalissa tell some Spain stories, they got out to join me on the beach chairs. Maybe 20 minutes later, I went inside and played some pool with Blaine (he lost right away - 8 ball). For lunch, we went to the Olive Garden in Apple Valley, where Ashley had her Cherry Chapstick advertising blitz, to the annoyance of Jalissa and Blain, who were throwing paper straw wrappers at each other. We returned to Jalissa's apartment, made two 30-second Cherry Chapstick commercials, and departed. Janae and I headed first because we were both tired, as people always are after they sleep on a floor (except Japan, I guess). We passed 5 people, and yes, that was a rush.

I took a nap, as did Janae, and we both showed up for Jalissa's bonfire (nonstop action for us) well-rested. At midnight, I walked home and went to bed.

Saturday was pretty normal, mostly just playing the piano at Church, going to Roch to buy some Puma's, and looking at books at B&N. Actually, I guess I did go to Janae's to see Natalie, and then Janae, Nat, Sarah, and I went to Erdmann's to buy something to make, but decided that we just wanted to make homemade cookies. We returned home, made the cookies, had a pickle taste-off (majority decided that Gedney baby dills beat Milwaukee), and watched 17 Again in my room. I rode back to Janae's house, grabbed the keys I had forgotten, and jogged back to my house. Once home, I re-discovered Owl City, whose music I love, and had a status-discussion with my awesome cousin, Casie. She's brilliant.

Yesterday was pretty uneventful; slept in, organized my iTunes music, biked the trail with Hannah to drop off her Hubbell application, and just sort of lounged about. I continued reading the Romanian, which I should finish sometime soon. Around 9, I walked to Jalissa's house where we played the Battle of the Sexes board game. When Darin left, I left, and returned home.

Today has been lax. Woke up at noon, and had a half bowl of corn flakes and a bowl of oatmeal. I also made 5 eggs for me, 1 for JJ, and watched Sid the Science Kid while they cooked. I downloaded some iTunes visualizations, found a notebook in which to record the words for which I don't know the meanings (to look up later), and returned to reading the Romanian, until I got hungry and made a crystal light smoothy (oddly good, weird texture). And now I'm here.

"Why you should let me kiss you," speech to come.

Of Mice and Men, and the Weekend

2009-08-10T18:34:00.001-07:00

So... I just finished running the bike trail, and a few hours before that, I finished reading Of Mice and Men. Here's my synopsis of the whole dealeo:

Because it is only 100 pages, the review will not need to be that long, although Steinbeck does develop the characters quite effectively in so short a time.

George and Lennie were dropped off supposedly at their next work site, but the bus actually dropped them off miles away, so they were walking toward the farm where they were to work with barley. George is small, smart, and strong (alliteration!) while Lennie is large and unintelligent, but kind. Steinbeck uses very effective imagery in describing the river along which the two men are walking. George is glad that they are arriving on a Friday, because they won't have to work a whole week, should things go awry. He and Lennie have prospects of living off "the fatta the lan" where Lennie can raise the rabbits (he's a big ole' softy).

They arrive to the farm where they give their work cards to the boss and meet the other characters of this story-ette. Curley is the boss's son and a rather pathetic boxer wanna-be, while is wife is incontent with having married Curley, and reminisces about how she could have been a star. Crooks is the negro slave-type who likes to mind his own business, and engages in such activities as reading (he has a crooked spine because he was kicked by a horse). Candy is an old man with one hand, and soon joins in the belief that he may someday be able to live with George and Lennie on their own property. Slim is the "cool cat" of the workers, and is supposedly able to use his whip to swat a fly off of a mules back without touching the mule.

George quickly fits in with the other boys, while Lennie sneaks away to the barn where Slim has granted him a puppy. While George goes out on the town, shortly after arriving to the farm, Lennie stays back and hangs out with Crooks, who is unaccustomed to having others in his room. He tries to ask Lennie what he would do if George were never to come back, but Lennie, with his simple mind, is unable to accept the supposition. All Crooks was trying to get across was that he, Crooks, would never have anyone, simply because he was negro.

In one of the next scenes, Lennie is in the barn alone with his puppy while all of the other farm hands are playing horseshoes (it was Sunday). When the dog looks as though it was going to nip his finger, he swatted it on the head, in his strenth, killing the dog. He was very worried that George was going to be mad with him for causing yet another bout of trouble and that he would never be able to raise the rabbits when they got their own farm. Curley's wife walks in and tries to talk to him; at first, Lennie's embarassed, but eventually speaks freely with Curley's wife. However, tragedy strikes when she lets him touch her hair and he won't let go. When she asks him to let go, he shouts at her to stop shouting because he thinks George will get mad. She doesn't so he covers her mouth and soon breaks her neck (putting her out of her miserable life). He realizes that what he had just done was much worse than killing the puppy, so he runs away to the bushes near the river where he had planned to meet George if anything went bad.

George soons sees Curley's wife and realizes that Lennie would never mean no harm, but that this was just too much for them to continue their friendship. He finds George by the riverside and after describing for him one more time their fictional future on their own land, shoots Lennie in the back of the head. Slim understands his pain in doing so and offers him a drink as the story ends.

How tragic... It kind of reminds me of Freak the Mighty.

Anywho... summary of my last few days. The Festival in the Park was this weekend so I did a few activities there. I was lounging around the pool on Saturday, hoping someone would ask for a sub, when some of the candidates for K-town Ambassador asked if I wanted to be in an obstacle course competition, which of course I did ($150 prize and only 3 competitors). I biked home, put on some tennis shoes, and returned to the obstacle course where I had to watch around 100 kids do the course (most failed). Finally, it was time for the adults, and I secretly prayed or hoped that most of the adults would not be able to make it. When it was my turn, I cruised through as fast as possible, and fell down once when I was running the balls back and forth for the shuttle run thing (but wasn't disqualified) and miraculously won the money over the other [now] nine competitors. It was easily worth 2 days of working at the pool. That evening, Anna and I watched Jim and Brittney, my neighbors, win the K-town Ambassador Program. Fantastic. Then we went to her house and played some fooseball and talked about life. I fell asleep, but then woke up (it was still night) and drove home on the back roads. Odd evening. On Sunday, I played the piano, and that was one of the most interesting things I did that night, besides Anna S's bonfire. We stayed up, let out some of our frustrations about life, and just sat around and listened to the silence at times (although people would always say, "awkward silence" which is quite annoying because silence is golden). I think we are all just feeling melancholy about the approaching end of summer. Ah well.

Today, I read Of Mice and Men, dropped off a screen protector and music tuner at Sarah's house, picked up two more books, and biked to the pool to teach the last evening of Tiny Tot swimming lessons. Afterwards, a tiny boy named Maleek was there (I had rescued him from drowning in level 1 a few years ago), and his grandma wanted him to have private lessons. When Kate, the manager, came back, she said it was too late in the summer. I was glad because I have plans for this week, and it would have conflicted with the said plans. After the lesson, Lindsay, the inside worker and fellow U of M-er, offered me some of her delicious apple pie. The crust wasn't fully cooked and was so delicious. Finally, I ran the bike trail after changing out of my clothes (there were a very large number o of people on that thing), and am planning on playing cards with friends later this evening. How ironic that I was thinking cards were simply a waste of time while I was reading Of Mice and Men...

Yet Another Day at the Pool, and a Couple of Books

2009-08-07T18:53:00.001-07:00

Yes, I was life-guarding again today. After staying up late to finish Atlas Shrugged, I finally fell asleep, dreaming of Objectivism and a dark NYC. I suppose I ought to give a little synopsis of Atlas Shrugged:

So... Dagny Taggart works for Taggart Transcontinental, one of the nation's most prominent railroad companies in the early 60s (it seems, although the time could be almost anytime post-Holocaust). She is one of the heirs to the company, 2nd in command only to her moocher brother, James. In the story, author Ayn Rand uses her effective imagery to describe the change of NYC throughout the successes and failures of Dagny and the country. Dagny soon meets Henry Rearden, a steel industrialist who has invented a seemingly (and truly) magical steel that costs less money than traditional steel and is much, much stronger as well. By the end of the first part, Dagny has successfully created a line to Colorado made of Rearden Steel that allows the trains to go no less than 100 mph the entire way. This "John Galt Line" has been built by Dagny to spite the colloquialism said whenever one feels he is helpless to think, "Who is John Galt?"

The beginning of the second part begins with the "affair" of Rearden and Dagny (Rearden is married), simply because Rearden is the most objective person Dagny has ever seen (until part III). After Rearden's steel is praised throughout the national newspapers, the government starts placing production restrictions upon Rearden, in an attempt to prevent monopoly and help the public interest of the country. A set of Communistic directives are issued, giving the Unification Board vast amounts of power over the American, and consequently, world, economy. Soon, things begin to go awry as Sabastien Francisco starts destroying his copper company, one of Rearden's largest suppliers. By the end of the second part, many of the industrialists have disappeared, and Dagny and Rearden are two of the few who remain in hopes of finding the creator of a static-powered, perpetual-motion machine (slightly oxymoronic, no?). Dagny's search ultimately leads her to a valley in the mountains where she has followed a plane with one of the last industrialists inside. She crash lands her plane, ending the part II.

In the final part, Tom Galt, who Dagny soon finds out to be the inventor of the perpetual motor, rescues Dagny from the wreckage of her plane and shows her the valley in CO where all of the industrialists, and thinkers in general have been living, There Dagny meets people who she thought were dead, or had known were missing for years, including Haley, the inventor of her favorite Objective-type music, a judge, doctor, philosopher, later, Francisco, and other industrialists whom (objective, ha!) she thought she would never see again. She falls for Galt, who in her mind is the perfect man (beautiful, smart, objective, etc...). When she sees Rearden's plane flying circles over the valley (which is cloaked by another one of Galt's inventions), she realizes that she has to return to the moocher society she left, if not for her love of Rearden, for her commitment to Nat Taggart, the founding father of Taggart Transcontinental. When she does, things have gotten even worse. The Unification Board has taken more power (ultimately, nationalizing the railroads), and the country is falling to pieces. Crops are harvested, but not shipped to people, rotting waiting for the trains that were sent to satisfy the whims of the politicians in Washington and on the Unification Board. Finally, the Board tries to pull together a radio broadcast by the last leaders in the country, to whom the public can looked toward with "hope." John Galt, however, uses another invention to steal the broadcast and deliver Ayn Rand's objectivism speech, which according to Galt, took three hours on the radio (I read it in one, so you can imagine how swamped my brain was). After the speech, the last industrialist-types realize that their only hopes of survival lie in building their own self-sufficient communities in the countryside. After desperate pleas to coerce the elusive Galt out of hiding to help save the country, Dagny finally can't resist staying away from him and inadvertently leads the moocher politicians to Galt. After he is held in captivity, and ultimately tortured, the valley-dwellers rescue him and Dagny and take them away in their plane (at this point, Henry has joined them) to the valley, flying over the now dark NYC, creating plans to return to society and build it from new, objectively.

So yeah... that's Atlas Shrugged in a few paragraphs. After I finished that early, early this morning, I started reading the lastest installment in the Artemis Fowl series called the time paradox. I will quickly summarize that read as well:

Artemis' mother is sick with a "magical" illness that is incurable by human medicine, so Artemis decides that he must turn to his friends in the magical world to retrieve the antidote to the disease (if antidotes for diseases even work). After realizing that he needs some of the brain juice from an extinct lemur (which he had forced into extinction in a trade years ago to a pro-extinction group). He uses the demonic warlock he rescued in the other book to time travel back to when he had the lemur, and after a series of close calls with his past self and his past Butler, as well as the leader of the Extinctionists, he realized that his mother wasn't even sick and that he didn't even need the lemur. It was a Time Paradox (hahaah. haha. ah. ha. Hence the title). At the end of the book, he and Holly Short were both pubescent teens, who have an odd inter-special relationship.

So basically, that book took up most of my day. Besides that, I worked at the pool during the afternoon (it was drizzly, so only one girl came, and I tricked her into playing cards with us for an hour, until she got bored ((and swarm :()). I finished Artemis and made dinner (rice and chicken with Italian seasonings (decent, minus one little bone). I picked up Josh, and then was informed that the pool wouldn't be opening again this evening, so I just lounged around, took a 1.5 hour long nap, and yeah... ended up here as always.

At present, I'm chatting wit me good ole' fren' Nat' (notice the Irish influence courtesy of Artemis Fowl (who's Irish too)), who is playing soccer at Viterbo. Lucky duck has already started her college adventure.

The Epic Evening

2009-08-06T20:24:00.000-07:00

It all started with the bike ride down the trail. I was running, and my sister, Hannah, was biking. We started talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up, and that week, I wanted to be a judge (what with the pending confirmation of Sonya Sotomayor, and all). When I shared my prospective career with my sister, she scoffed and said "You'd give tons of rights to the gay movement." To which I responded, "What does that mean." For the rest of the run, we discussed gay rights, my gay friends, and discretely, I talked about myself (IF YOU FOUND THIS, THEN YOU GET TO KNOW THAT I'M GAY; CONGRATS :-D)! By the end of the bike trail, I had convinced her that "God" (notice the quotes) would probably prefer gay marriage, and that if she followed "H"is greatest commandment, then she would love her gay friends and acquaintances enough to give them the doubt (how sad is it that I had to say "give them the doubt") that they would be able to nurture a marital relationship. I asked her, "So, have I changed your mind?" To which she responded with a small smile (of happiness, I can say with some degree of certainty), "I guess so."

When we got home, I showered and got ready for bed and everything, and then I overheard my sister talking about the gay marriage issue with my mom, so, of course, I had to join the conversation. We were having a calm, composed, and politically correct conversation when my dad comes storming in yelling "YOU ARE NEVER TO TALK ABOUT THIS IN FRONT OF THE OTHER KIDS; IF I HEAR YOU TALKING ABOUT THIS EVER AGAIN, YOU ARE OUT OF HERE (his (my?) house)! This was quite stunning to me; I'd never been threatened homelessness before by my parents, even when I came out to them. I looked at my mom, for support; none there, started feeling as though my whole family hated me, and then sprinted upstairs.

That evening, my dad continued to verbally (and emotionally) attack me, saying such things as "YOU'RE DESTROYING THIS FAMILY, ARE YOU GOING DOWN THE SAME PATH AS (insert name of friend) AND (insert name of other friend), HAVE YOU ALREADY HAD SEX, and DO YOU PLAN ON HAVING SEX WITH A... MALE!" all of which he shouted around the house loud enough for everyone, my sister included to hear. I answered the last question with a pause, "Yes," and "I know you hate me," after which I sprinted downstairs where my mom tried to show me a Focus on the Family video about orientation conversion about a woman who used to be a lesbian twenty years ago, and decided to change "because I was an alcoholic, a chain-smoker, and a nightly user of heavy drugs, but now, 20 years later, I'm living the life I was meant to live." My 4-year-old baby brother, JJ, was following me, but my dad came storming down after me and yelled at him to go upstairs. JJ said, "but I want to see Sam," My dad just spanked him (I could hear the spanks through the walls) up the stairs.

My dad came in, looking for me, but I had already grabbed my clothes (I like to walk around just in my towel after showers, but I figured tonight would not be the night), so I sprinted past my mother and him upstairs. I ran up to my room, grabbed my cell phone, and rushed outside, yelling down to my mom that I was going to drive and talk to someone.

She responded, "You're father doesn't want you to take the car when you're like this." I thought to myself, "When I'm like this?! We were having a perfectly normal, political conversation when he stormed downstairs to destroy the entire family." I repeated, "I'm going to go talk to someone." "Who?" "It doesn't matter. Someone who will listen."

I walked to my car with my cell phone, still bawling (I'm such a man), and called my best friend, Anna (GAY PERSON #2). She had just returned from a trip to somewhere, but I knew she would come. I rang, she picked up, I asked where she was, she said she just got home, and I said "We need to talk. My dad just blew up on me." She said okay.

I drove to the park, where I originally planned to meet her, but there were some creepy (gay?) guys who looked as if they were smoking, drinking, and making out. How odd. I drove away when they started approaching my car.

I called Anna and met her by the new middle school instead. I got out of my car, and she out of hers, and we just hugged for a little while (I'm still crying, yes, manly me).

I knew that Anna would be able to get me through all of the chaos, so I just listened to her talk for awhile. She told me about her girlfriend and their complex, but temporary, relationship. I told her what happened, but I couldn't even look her in the eye because "my self-esteem was shot. Thanks dad." During our conversation, my mom called and asked as if I were okay. I said, "Yes, I'm fine," so then she asked who I was with (again). "Someone who's open-minded, who understands, and who's willing to listen," to which she responded "okay." I told her I was going to go, and then we both said, "I love you," at the exact same time. I laughed a little, and she said it again. How melodramatic.

After a little more conversing and situation-diffusing, Anna and I both realized that we had to teach swimming lessons in the morning, so we parted, and I returned home and went straight to bed, thinking of how moving out would work.

So yeah, that's the "epic" evening. And as of now, I'm not planning on moving out. My parents have swept that evening under the carpet, just as they did my coming out. I guess it's not that large of an aspect of me... but shouldn't they love me for who I am? I will never forget the spanks through the walls as JJ cried up the stairs.

Another Summer Day...

2009-08-06T20:13:00.001-07:00

I woke again, after a night of vivid dreams, courtesy to the massive amounts of vitamin b12 I've been taking (not only does it make me dream, it also gets rid of acne!). After going through a few old bags in my closet, I finally ate a brunch of cereal and eggs (it's always, always eggs) and went back up to bed for a nap. After a 40 minute-ish nap, I awoke with a smile on my face (probably) and cruised downstairs to grab my things for the pool. Things were pretty uneventful there, except that I did another couple of 1.5s. Sweet, I know. Additionally, I coached a girl on how to do a backflip, which felt pretty rewarding when she actually did it. Her head wasn't even that close to the board! During the 7 o'clock break, I took a claratin, which totally made me feel awake and motivated to work, so it wasn't a surprise when the others annoyed me by their laid back work ethic (IS IS THAT HARD TO USE A FLIPPIN' SQUEEGEE?!). No... they were working normally; I was just ultra-hard-working. Someone said something to the extent of "you're only hungry because they have ice cream here" to her daughter, which reminds me that I should really encourage my folks to get rid of their junk food... I came home, ate a banana, and quickly whisked myself away onto the bike trail with my younger brother, Jacob. I took the no-so-cool race bike with the baby seat on the back; however, despite it's un-sleek appearance it still got me there (Mantorville) and back again (Kasson) faster than my brother on his pink racing bike. Our bikes are the coolest, by the way. After that, I was starved, so I biked to Erdmann's, searching for some diet hot chocolate. I know they (I don't know who they are, but...) have it somewhere out there, but it just wasn't at Erdmann's. So I bought a 12-pack of diet Canada Dry (for use at the pool), and biked home in a manner that wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be (carrying a 12-pack really isn't that hard on a bike). I downed a can, decided that I still wanted hot chocolate, so I settled with our sugar-free variety, mixed it with a heaping teaspoon of decaf instant coffee, and finished it off out here. It's so sad that I'm always thinking about food; I should get a counselor or something. (Because after that, I was STILL hungry and ate some prosciutto ham with ranch dressing, and am still hungry. I'd better brush my teeth before this week 5 cinnamon gum runs out. Hasta manana. Tiny tots all on my own tomorrow.

Random Thoughts On a Random Eve

2009-08-05T21:59:00.000-07:00

So... I figure I should probably record something about my life, considering how long it has been since I've posted for all of you (my faithful two readers). Let's see... I will be working at the pool for the next two days; obviously, each day will be a rush. What is currently occupying my mind is my missing manilla folder. It has my scholarship information for the U of M, and I know that I need to complete a few things in order to get that $5,000, so yeah, kind of a big deal.

I'm getting slightly nervous about college, and I don't even know why. I keep having dreams about Kate Pappas yelling at me, and I'm not sure if the dreams are at college or home... I'll have to hit the sack and see if she's back, maybe I'll know then.

Also, I did a one and a half (a flip and a dive) today! Yes... And also a crappy double.

Single-player Games

2009-03-16T17:51:00.000-07:00

Frarck/Preteau

Rhetoric 102: The Essay

March 9, 2009

Single-player Games

Reluctantly, I dipped my finger into the gooey, wet, yellow ooze.

"Why would anyone ever paint without a brush?" I wondered.

My finger was covered with the cold glop, and so far, I wasn't thrilled with the concept of finger painting. I figured that it would be the perfect time to take a bathroom break to use the toilet and get the yellow gel off of me. Before getting up, I looked around at the other kids in my kindergarten class; most looked as grossed out as I must have. But one girl at my table, Jennifer, or "Jen," as I mockingly called her in my mind, had a look of happiness on her face that made my blood boil. Jennifer may have been faster at singing the alphabet than I was (I always got caught up on L-M-N-O-P), but I wasn't about to let her have the honor of being the better painter. Even on the first day of kindergarten, Jennifer (unknowingly) competed with me in every subject. From counting to phonics, I liked to see who was more skilled, especially if it the more skilled one was me.

On the first day of kindergarten, I arrived with a big smile. I excitedly ran ahead of my mom, pulled open the door, and walked into Mrs. Kool’s kindergarten class. Other parents were there with their children too; some of my classmates looked nervous to leave their parent’s side. I was proud to be joining my brother at school, and I was excited to participate in the activities that had been set up at the tables. I sat down at the nearest table, which was set up for coloring, and decided to try coloring an apple with an obscure symbol next to it. I soon found that I wasn’t the only brave soul who had ventured away to the activity tables.

“That’s A,” declared a girl across from me.

I looked up from the sheet and saw a girl with curly auburn hair, big brown eyes, and long eyelashes looking at me from across the table. She was holding up her own drawing of an apple, pointing at the symbol on the bottom.

“A?” I questioned. “Like the alphabet song?”

“Yes.” she laughed “A, the first letter of the alphabet.”

I nodded knowingly, as if this was something I had known all of my life, but in reality, I knew that these “letters” were beyond my understanding. I soon found out that this girl’s name was Jennifer Adams, and that her mom had taught her to read all of the letters of the alphabet. I knew about reading, and I had even memorized the letters in my name, but I had never learned how to write them. At that moment of humiliation, I felt a feeling inside of me that I had never felt before. I wanted what Jennifer had; I needed to know what Jennifer knew. I quickly finished coloring my apple, making sure to color inside of the lines as not to set Jennifer off again, and I returned to my mom’s side, slightly more leery of this no longer simple world of education.

That night, I went home and asked my mom to write my name for me. After she wrote my name in big, capital letters on the top of a white piece of construction paper, I attempted to grasp my pencil just as she had grasped hers. Although it took several attempts to finally figure out how to hold the pencil without it slipping out of my hand, I managed to clumsily copy the three letters that comprised my nickname. After almost an hour, I was able to both copy my name with almost-neat letters, and I also knew each letters' name.

The next day when I arrived at Mrs. Kool's classroom, the first thing I did was to look around the room to make sure Jennifer was present. I was eager to show off my new skill, but I wanted to make sure that Jennifer, and a number of my less literate classmates were around when I revealed my new skill. Yes, she was there, already sitting on the rug next to Mrs. Kool's stool with her legs crossed in the “Indian-style” we had learned on our first day. Though she had taken the spot I had planned to sit in, my spirits were not too dampened. I had a skill that I was sure no one else in the classroom had, besides Mrs. Kool. As soon as the bell rang signalling it was time to start, Mrs. Kool gathered everyone to sit on the carpet facing her stool. I cruised over to where Jennifer was sitting, took my seat right next to her, and when she wasn't looking, I stuck my foot under the stool and quickly dragged it so it was positioned closer to me than to Jennifer. By the time Jennifer returned her attention to the front of the room, I was sitting “Indian-style,” innocently looking around the room as the rest of the class took their seats. “Welcome back to your second day of kindergarten...” began Mrs. Kool. She started explaining how we would be counting the number of days of kindergarten using straws.

Though I tried to remain focused on this important part of my kindergarten education, I soon was whisked away into my imagination, imagining the moment when I would reveal that I could write my name. At very least, I was sure that all of my classmates would be impressed, and at most, a standing ovation or a parade in my honor.

I was quickly pulled out of my daydream as Mrs. Kool asked how many days one group of straws represented. Though I had heard everything she had said, I hadn't comprehended all that well. Of course, Jennifer's hand shot up, and Mrs. Kool called her name.

“One group of straws means ten days have passed,” she patronizingly explained to the rest of us, as if revealing the meaning of life.

Mrs. Kool told her what a great answer she had given, and I could just feel the eyes of my classmates looking in adoration on Jennifer. Even though I was slightly impressed by her answer, I refused to look at her to see her reaction. I knew she must have had a satisfied smile on her face, and I wanted to reveal my skill all the more. After we learned about counting for a little while longer, Mrs. Kool read off our names to tell us what table to sit at for the next activity, coloring. We sat down, across from each other, just like the first day, and Mrs. Kool handed out the worksheet with circles, squares, and triangles on it.

I quickly grabbed one of the crayons she had handed out and said, “Hey, watch this!” loud enough for the entire class to hear.

With intense concentration, I wrote my name out in capital letters.

There was no applause, no standing ovation, and certainly no talk of a parade.

“That's my name,” I explained, still hoping for a parade. “S-A-M.”

Still no parade, but a couple of curious kids from different tables did stand up to take a look at what I had done. Mrs. Kool came over with an amused smile on her face, looked at my name, and told me I had done a great job. Though this response from Mrs. Kool and the class wasn't all that I had imagined, I did feel proud. I looked up at Jennifer, who was grabbed a crayon herself, holding it more like a pencil than a kindergarten kid should be holding a crayon on the second day of class. She quickly jotted something down, and I nervously peered over at her paper.

Before I could see what she had written, she held up her paper and explained to the class, “Hey! Look at my name too!”

Perhaps it was because my other classmates had just learned the concept of a written name, but the class responded to Jennifer's name how I had wanted them to respond to mine. The whole class stood up and looked at Jennifer's eight-letter name. Mrs. Kool explained how Jennifer had written her name using capital and lowercase letters, and how it would still be a very long time before the rest of the class learned how to do this. Humiliated, I sat in silence, trying to ignore the attention transfer from me to her.

Fall and winter passed, and the rest of the class learned about all of the letters of the alphabet, and it became evident that Jennifer was the class's finest phonics student. But there were other areas where I managed to lead the class; I was able to easily grasp the concept of counting. Midway through the year, one of the teaching assistants took us students to a table one by one to quiz us on kindergarten standards.

“What is your name?”

“William Henry King.”

“What is your phone number?”

“22-33-5-6-0.”

“Can you please count as high as you can for me?”

I confidently beamed because this was the question I was waiting for, the question I had practiced for. But before I started, I wanted to make sure that I knew for sure that I knew all the information necessary to take the title of counting champion.

“How high is the highest number that someone has counted too?”

It was somewhere in the 300s, and I was sure that it was Jennifer who had made it that high. So I counted, and counted, and counted. For 15 minutes, I sat and counted until I reached 1001. At that point, I said something to the extent of “I could go on, but I think you get the point.”

I walked back to the class and made a point of it to sit right next to Jennifer who was playing “Miss Mary Mack” with the girl next to her. I sat there squirming, waiting for her to finish her silly patty-cake game. We had much more important things to discuss, like my recent counting feat.

“Hey Jennifer! How high did you count.” I confidently challenged.

Indeed she had been my competition, with that number somewhere in the 300s.

“Guess what?” I continued.

Without pausing, I answered my own question with a half shout. “1001!”

My shouting caused the whole music class to turn and look, but once again, I had failed to evoke even a small round applause. Apparently, the concept of 1000 was beyond their kindergarten minds as well. Before Jennifer could congratulate me, Ms. Saunders, our old music teacher who wore knee tights that were too dark for her pale skin, barked at me to stop talking and start singing. Abashed again, I sat on the floor and practiced “Miss Mary Mack” all on my own with my head slightly lower than it had been before.

Though I was humiliated many times throughout kindergarten because of my competitive nature, I never thought things could be more embarrassing than getting yelled at by the teacher. I was wrong.

So I decided to stay seated and keep painting on my first day of finger painting, aware that any break I took would allow my competitor to develop her art skills further. When I decided not to go to the bathroom that one fateful day of finger painting, I never imagined that the repercussions of such a barely competitive action would be so... stinky . When I finished my masterpiece, I realized that I really needed to go. I rushed into the kindergarten boys' bathroom, pulled down my pants and undies, leaned on to the toilet rim, and seconds later, slipped on the urine that lined the floor falling right into the toilet. When I finally managed to hoist myself out of the toilet, finish peeing, and walk out, I was crying. And, of course, it had to be Jennifer Adams who greeted me with a laugh when I walked out drenched in urine. Eventually, my mom brought a fresh set of clothes, but I had to stand on the sidewalk while I watched all of the kids, especially Jen, play on the equipment during recess.

Looking back, I realize that although the competition I had in kindergarten may have made my kindergarten year more stressful than it probably should have been, I never would have learned as much without it. Even though Jennifer never did anything to provoke the competition, her often comparable (and perhaps, superior) intelligence motivated me to learn more and try harder, Often times, I turned this motivation into a sort of game, often a competitive one in which I was the only competitor aware of the competition about to begin. Experience has taught me that sometimes competition needs to be set aside and the basic requirements of life (in kindergarten, mainly sleeping, eating, pooping and the like, and having fun) need to be dealt with. Throughout my school years, I have always battled with balancing competition and having fun. My parents often tell me to “work hard now, so you don’t have to when you’re older,” but they also tell me to “have fun while you can.” I have come to use competition as a means of motivating myself to work hard and do a better job. But every now in then, I let the competition take control of my life, and at these times, maybe I do need to fall in the toilet.

01/31/09

2009-01-31T21:21:00.000-08:00

I'm excited to say that in less than 40 minutes, it will be February, the month of love, a month closer to spring, a month closer to graduation. I wasn't very proactive today in the sense that I spent the majority of the day lounging about the house. My mom made cleaning assignments for all of the kids. Wait, I need to get ready for bed. Okay, ready. So, just to describe my daily bedtime preparations: I have quite a simple routine. I brush my teeth using Aim brand toothpaste; I use Aim as opposed to larger brands with better graphic design because it doesn't seem to make my face blow up as much. Right now, I'm on this Eastern medicine diet that is supposed to rid one's body of a type of yeast called Candida that supposedly can cause acne along with several other different ailments. Anyhow, after I brush my teeth, I apply a film of whitening toothpaste, and yes, toothpaste, to my face. It makes the redness blend in more with the non-inflamed skin which is quite nice. So basically, that's it, as far as getting ready for bed goes.

After waking up late, around 11:00 a.m., I forced myself downstairs where I ate breakfast, helped my baby brother find some cartoons on TV, made a mini-second breakfast (the Candida diet makes me starved), and started cleaning the kitchen. I cleared out the refrigerator, washed half of it out with soapy water and the other half out with vinegar (I felt as though I had read about that in a book somewhere). After reorganizing everything, my sister and I made a rather sad lunch of Tilapia seasoned with salt, peppter, and chile seasoning along with a dressing-free salad made with lettuce, peppers, and broccoli. At least I won't get too fat off of this "diet." I didn't really go out today, besides making a trip to Erdmann's with my sister to buy food for the SuperBowl. On account of the fact that we can't eat any yeast, wheat, grains, etc., we didn't feel totally enthused about shopping for the rest of family. We ended up buying some Doritos, skin-on weiners, Hummus (it was only 99 cents!), and yogurt. When I returned home with the DVD Ironman, the family all gathered downstairs on the couch and we all enjoyed the movie. Halfway through, we stopped to grab some of the chips meant for the SuperBowl and some Hummus and then continued on with the movie. I checked facebook, gmail, and then read that facebook is nothing more than a waste of time. It kind of makes me want to stop doing it because really, is it really that beneficial? I'll have to weigh my odds.

08/29/08

2008-08-30T11:18:00.001-07:00

So today I'm actually writing this blog the day after the events occurred, so there won't be as much of "then we lounged" or "then I relaxed" which actually means I can't remember the exact events that happened. Yesterday was another noon arrival to the world, and I awoke in a manner that reminded me of how cats stretch when they just wake up from a nap. Anyhow, since I had basically missed the breakfast time at my house, I ate a big bowl of shredded wheat (we have blueberry and strawberry flavors, and I mixed them), and watched as the others in my family ate lunch. I returned to my room where I made my bed, and then I took a long shower so I could really get my hair and face clean. We have this new acne scrub thing for the shower that is supposed to peel away the dead skin cells. It has a really interesting smell, kind of like mints and blueberries. After my shower, I walked around the house for awhile in my boxers and shirt, realizing that I didn't have any sporty shorts that I could wear to soccer practice. I mentioned this to my mom, who chuckled, and I told her that we would need to get some when we went school shopping. She had just returned home from a trip to Rochester and had purchased a ton of delicious fruit which she said we couldn't eat. I complained about how she never bought good food for our family, and then snuck down to the basement fridge where the fruit was and snuck some strawberries and grapes, after washing the pesticides off them in the upstairs sink. I finally found a pair of shorts, but they weren't exactly the norm for soccer; they were a pair of ultra comfortable sweat shorts from Aeropostale. I felt somewhat lazy, but completely comfortable about wearing them. I went to the gas station, gases up my car ½ way ($30 and that's it?), and returned home to grab my things for soccer. I arrived to the field much earlier than I normally do, and I was actually ready to start with the team. After a crumby practice in which Zack C. and Josh Li. yelled at me, I returned home and got ready for the Pine Island football game. My sibs and I got in the car, and I drove to pick up Sarah. We listened to the Current as we drove through Mantorville and on the winding road between Berne and Pine Island. We got there about 15 minutes late, so Sarah and I decided to sit on the hill which provided a perfect view of the game, and incidentally, the sky. We would watch the game if we heard cheering, but then our heads would return upward to the beautiful blue sky as we talked about the next year of school and our futures. It's such a hassle, having to pick what you want to do for the next 50 years of your life. I was a tad frustrated because Sarah says that she's interested in everything and that there might be things that she hasn't experienced yet that she might like, and that she's not going to count those out. I thought that she should at least pick one of her interests now and focus on that, and then if she finds something later that she likes, then she can pursue that education path. We saw Jenny and Kellie B. walking towards the gate to get in the game, and we convinced them to sit with us until the end of the quarter, so they wouldn't have to pay. I felt kind of bad when I said that young love is a joke and then preceded to asking them if they were going out. Of course they both were, so I shut myself up for awhile and pretended to be interested in the football game. When we got in at half, Sarah and I walked to the KoMet teen section and were pleasantly surprised to find Janae K. there, as well as Alyssa O., my link crew partner. After taking pictures, Janae returned to the volleyball crew, and Sarah and I walked to the end of the track where there was a wall of bricks that we sat on top of, bridging the gap between the K-M freshmen and the Pine Island freshmen. We looked up to the sky again, and Sarah found a few stars and a satellite that we could actually see moving across the sky, very slowly hundreds of miles up. After awhile, I got hungry, so Sarah and I walked over to see what the concession stand had to offer. Coffee was only $.75, but I could make it from home for less than $0.10 a serving, so I decided to buy a ring pop which was only a quarter! After finding out that it was a purple sucker, I was very disappointed because even though the packaging was mostly purple, there were several green dots, and I had assumed that the green dots would overpower the purple and that, therefore, the sucker would be green. I was delighted when I found that the purple ring pop was delicious, and Sarah and I set off around the track. We soon decided that we were going to attempt to walk a mile. With only 12 minutes in the game left, we managed to walk 3 laps around the track, and I told her about how Augusten Burroughs and I were similar in the way that we both liked shiny things when we were young. I used to collect rings from the quarter machines when I was 4, and he used to save money and shine all of his valuable possessions. She just laughed. We returned home, Sarah helped me cut up some fruit, and we went downstairs when Natalie arrived to watch Homeward Bound. When it was over, Natalie and Sarah left, and I returned to my room to sleep. It goes without saying that I also checked my email and facebook before doing this.

08/28/08

2008-08-29T23:42:00.001-07:00

Today was the big day for Link Crew! I woke up at 6:30, showered, ate, grabbed my shirt, and headed off to the school where the Link Crew leaders were chowing down on doughnuts and pop. I prided myself in the fact that I consumed neither of these unhealthy food/drink items. At 8 o'clock, the freshmen were ushered into the gym where teachers and Link Crew leaders welcomed them in a gauntlet to the gym. After a morning filled with fun activities, cool freshmen, an awesome Link Crew partner, and a tour of the school, the Link Crew leaders gathered to talk about the day. I returned home, ate lunch, and took a nap until about 15 minutes before the bus for Winona was supposed to leave. On the bus, I received the unfortunate news that I was going to be playing on the JV team since both of the games were at the same time. I should really join hockey/act like the coach is my friend so I'll get on varsity. Both teams ended up losing their games 0-1, and we returned back to Kasson without any stops for food. I have to say that I was quite content listening to my mp3, watching Whose Line is It, texting Anna, and sucking on a sucker. When I arrived back home, I narrated the evening's events back to my parents and relaxed with my siblings.

08/27/08

2008-08-29T23:19:00.001-07:00

Another busy Wednesday… I woke up, showered, ate breakfast, and headed out to school for the student council pre-first day movies. When I arrived there, it was 8:30, and no one was in the gym. I decided that I must have been early, so I sneaked around the tens of construction workers to the weight room where I tried to turn the handle, but it was locked. Then, most likely out of frustration, I pulled back on the door, and it popped open! I couldn't decided whether to turn the lights off or on, but in the end I decided it was best to leave them off as not to draw attention to the fact that I had broken into the weight room. So I did my ab workout and used the dumbbells and dip machine for about a ½ hour. There was a very relaxing atmosphere in the weight room which I enjoyed. Instead of hearing the loud clanking of the weights being thrown up and down, and listening to the annoying rock/rap/vulgar music, I could hear the thunder and the soft patter of rain as I focused on lifting. I snuck back upstairs, walked around the school and saw Kelsey walking towards her usual home of the guidance office, so I followed her. I opened the door, she look over, barked "South Gym!" and scurried away. When I arrived to the gym, we were ripping out the names to put on the wall. We also painted the big senior sign which has a large amount of pink and purple on it. When I got back home from student council with my cocky shirt that says "This is what cool looks like," I ate lunch, and read until I went into Rochester to volunteer from 2:30 – 4, cruise back to Kasson to soccer practice from 4:30 – 6, and make my own dinner, and relax for the evening. Considering the fact that I didn't break a sweat at the practice, I decided to go for a run, but there was a storm a brewin', so I just hung around the house, attempting to be as helpful as possible.

08/26/08

2008-08-29T22:27:00.001-07:00

I woke up at 7:34 with a Link Crew orientation on my schedule. After showering and eating my breakfast, I arrived to the gym a tad late, as always, and nonchalantly walked across the gym to meet up with Alyssa O., my Link leader partner. We reviewed all of the Link Crew activities, made paper airplanes, and was out of the S. Gym and basically-unconstructed high school by 11 o'clock. I cleaned up my room, loaded the dishwasher, trying to be helpful in general. I cruised off to the library on our old, speedy Schwinn. I would pump myself up, and then sprint on the bicycle for about a 10 second spurt, and by that point, I would already be almost a block ahead of my siblings, so then I would have to slow down and wait for them, and then I would do the same thing over again. When I got home, I decided that it would be a good idea to take a quick nap, which I did, and then I woke up and headed off to the bus. After a victory over the JV, and a boring, bench-warming loss to the varsity team, we returned home, and I continued listening to the soothing sounds of Corinne Bailey Rae. When I arrived home, I was too tired to watch a movie, so I facebooked and then went to bed.

08/25/08

2008-08-27T21:17:00.001-07:00

Today, I woke up at 12:00ish, which was a really nice length of sleep that I probably won't have the opportunity to experience for the next year or so, but whatever. So, I ate a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats with vanilla clusters, and then I lounged around the house for awhile, not doing anything of real importance such as checking facebook, watching TV, things like that. When I started researching the most commonly used languages in the world (it was around 2:30), a received a phone call from Zack C. telling me that the bus was waiting for me. I was slightly befuddled on account of the fact that the bus wasn't scheduled to leave until 3:00 for Loyola. I quickly panicked, yelling around the household for my family members to find my soccer shorts (I had packed everything else, almost). After frantically cruising around the house, I peeled away from my house, cleats and shin guards not in tow. I soon realized that I was missing these crucial pieces of equipment, and at that moment of realization, the annoying phone rang: Zack C., again. It was at this moment that I decided to take my mom up on the offer of driving me over. After 15 minutes of chaos and phone calls in the house, we set off for Kato, and the whole way over I listened to the relaxing sounds of Corrine Bailey Rae which really helped me to focus, even though it wasn't the best pump up music. When I got to Loyola, I quickly realized that there was a JV game because I saw the entire varsity team, undressed (in soccer clothes), sitting on the bleachers watching the varsity girls begin their warm-up. I tranquilly walked over to the JV field, set my things down next to the bench where some of the boys on my team were still getting dressed, and I blended in for a few minutes before people even realized I was there. We won the game, 2-0, and then I played the last 20 minutes of varsity, 3-0 (1 goal for us while I was in). We loaded the bus, and drove to the nearest McDonald's, but Lyssa H. and I don't enjoy unhealthy foods (although I love their coffee drinks ((almost Starbucks quality))), so we headed off to Walgreens where I picked up an iced caramel mocha, iced chai tea latte, dried tropical fruit mix, and a Kashi protein bar. We brought our food back to McDonald's where I made an effort to anyone who would watch to show off my healthy food. The others didn't seem too interested in anything other than their calorie and animal loaded burgers, so I enjoyed my chai tea latte and Kashi bar with the knowledge that I had really nourished my body. We soon loaded the bus again, and Josh La. quickly picked a spot on the floor with his head very near my legs where he could have quick access to Autumn or Josh Li., Natalie and I weren't really sure, so we laughed about it for awhile, and then we moved onto more mature subjects such as Disney movies and Wicked. After wailing Defying Gravity as loud as we could, or at least loud enough so we could hear ourselves amidst the tens of giddy soccer players, we toned down by watching some Comedy Central. Eventually, we made it back to Kasson where I managed to stay up until 4 o'clock, procrastinating sleeping.

08/22/08

2008-08-26T00:42:00.001-07:00

So I"ve decided that I finally need to document myself, my real self, me. This sounds like the opening line to a top selling chick flick, but at least it's a start. I feel as though my life is full of clichés, which makes me wonder, "What are clichés?" They are just things that are commonplace in life; everyone experiences them. Today…. I woke up around 10ish, and I noticed that it was a very odd sort of refreshing wake up, probably because of my mini-meditation from the night before. Anyhow, I woke up, walked downstairs and then realized that I was very hungry. I couldn't decided whether or not to eat breakfast or to shower first, so I thought back to my stay in Italy where I was in very good shape. In Italy, I would wake up early every other day and run down the bike trail along the magnificent Adriatic coast along with hundreds of other people who also rode bikes, walked, or jogged. After my jog, I would take an icy (not by choice) shower and then eat an unhealthy, but utterly delicious, breakfast of cake and coffee. So I took a shower first. I quick shampooed my hair, put in conditioner ("You can't open and close your follicles at the same time." – Casey H), and while my conditioner was absorbing, or whatever it does in the two minute recommended wait, I used the Clean & Clear acne face cleaner. After my shower, I walked down to the basement to grab my clothes for the day, and I changed right there in the laundry room. Little did I know, my younger brother Jake was sitting about 20 feet away on the computer with a clear view of me. I wonder how many people actually know what I look like naked… Anyways, I grabbed the blue swim trunks from this year; I figured that I would try to please Leah because last year I wore the red swim trunks instead of the new blue ones and she got mad. I also grabbed my blue and gray old navy t-shirt. I headed upstairs where I watched a little of the Olympics as the men's beach volleyball pair battled against the Brazilians for the gold. They won. Yay. After that, I went up to my room to get ready for my busy afternoon. I gathered my supplies for soccer and my entertainment for the pool. I walked out of the house after eating a protein platter but soon realized that I had forgotten my whistle and a towel. I scrambled back inside and grabbed two whistles and a towel and then raced out to the car. As normal, I was late, but Lindsay and Laney were working, so I was very happy. They are two of the most fun indoor workers! Lindsay (Lindsey?) had made two delicious pies, one apple with delicious caramelly topping and a sweet peach pie. When 4 o'clock came around, I finally was able to take a bite of each and enjoy the careful crafting of Lindsey. After putting a few beach chairs into storage for the year, I headed off to soccer practice. Blah. After soccer, I returned home for an evening of Olympic watching, internet browsing, and texting. Nothing special, and then I slept.

08/23/08

2008-08-26T00:38:00.001-07:00

Today I woke up at 7:34 (my clock said 8, but it's 26 minutes ahead, but in general, if I need to be somewhere, I set the time for when I need to arrive there, and that's when I wake on my clock) because I was under the impression that I had to be to work by 8. Around 8ish, I left my house and drove off towards Weichert Realty. It was really convenient how that job opportunity worked out for me because the day after the pool closed, I was already working at another job! By the way, Bryton is crazy! He cracked his leg, and two days later, he's walking around on it at the pool. What if he tripped? What if some crazy kid came up and kicked him? All I know is that I probably wouldn't be the type to do anything when I broke my leg. When I got to the office, the door was locked, and the code to open it wasn't really working. I would type in the code and then the lock would make a depressing grinding sound which at least meant something was working. I tried to call Deb Guenthner, the lady who co-owns the business, but it went directly to her voice mail. I went back home and checked the DCI which said that the office hours were from 9:30 to 12:30. I'm not really sure if I felt mad; I'd say I was probably lethargic and was at least thankful that I could catch a few more minutes of sleep. I set my alarm clock for 9:30 and cruised down to the office. I called Deb again, and this time she answered, telling me the code that I had already tried. After two more attempts, the silly door finally opened and I walked inside and did all of the opening procedures. Minutes later, Deb walked in and told me that she had a list of things to do for me. So little had changed at the office, and I had been gone for almost 2 months! It is as if time stands still there. Anyhow, I collated around 250 sheets of paper into 10 packets, put away all of the scrap packets, vacuumed, emptied the garbages, and all of that exciting stuff. At 12:50, I drove home and spotted a few garage sale signs on the way. I love garage sales; there is just something so exciting about browsing through other people's cheap junk! I went on Facebook once I got home and tried to convince Sarah to come garage saling with me on our bikes, be she was under the impression that she was too weak to bike (I don't know if that's even possible). I told her I would call her once I was done, and then I hoped on my bike with slightly over $2.35, ready for the bargains that might be ahead. When I got to the first garage sale, I had started walking across the lawn when I realized that the garage sale was already over (the kids were taking down the tables and the dad was glaring at me for walking across his lawn). Quickly, I remounted my bike and cruised off towards NW Kasson in hopes of finding better or at least open garage sales. The only sign I saw was lying on the ground, and I had to turn it over to read it. I must have looked very desperate for a garage sale. Fortunately, the garage sale was within a block of Sarah's house, so I wasn't too disappointed when I arrived and the garage door was closed and the windows were covered in plastic in preparation for winter. Glumly, I biked to Sarah's house, parked my bike on her lawn, texted her, and waited until she came outside. Carl and her dad were fixing there van, which I thought was funny; it's Carl, fixing a van! Ha! Peering amidst the mysterious piles of marvelous things in her garage, I saw 3 boomerangs. Instantly, I had plans for the afternoon. Sarah asked me to help her fix her bikes, which I told her I didn't like to do (mechanics, ugh), but I said whatever, I'd do it. So I screwed Kerry's basket holder onto the back, attempted to put the rusty chain back on the gear thing but realized that I was getting crap (grease, oil, who knows) all over my hand. Then Sarah seemingly magically whisked her chain onto her bike, which made me grumble about getting dirty, and then we headed off towards the north park baseball fields. Once there, I instinctively threw the boomerang, and amazingly, it somehow did the whole little spin back thing, unfortunately 20 feet to my left. After several failed attempts at throwing the boomerangs, we decided to sit in the shade and talk. We talked about PSEO, college, politics, friends, and several other deep things. Then we walked past Prairie Meadows, down to the bike trail, up to 5^th avenue and back to the park, continuing our conversations and contemplations. We collected the boomerangs which we had left under a garbage can so we could walk and not get strange looks (it's not Australia, after all), and then we split up. When I got home, I watched a tad of the Olympics, but then Jacob switched it to baseball, I got bored, declared that there was no point to sports besides helping people to stay in shape and to power the economy, and walked upstairs where I took a nap until around 5. At 5, I woke up, and I was still in my wake-up mode, so I hobbled downstairs and found my iced coffee drink that I had created the night before, took a swig of that, and went to the basement where I played Super Smash Bros. After dominating Jacob in all but two games, I ate supper, and then watched some track and field events to motivate me to take the run that I had planned. When it was quarter to eight, I embarked for the golf course road, but before I could get there, I ran into Megan (running) and Alex (riding bike) Hemann, and Cody (running) Vohl. They asked me if I wanted to join them, and I hesitated because I really like to stay on my schedule, but then I thought about how boring it would be to run that mile and a half all by myself, so I said yes. Cody and Alex ran ahead, and Megan and I ran behind, talking about how amazing the Olympic athletes were (apparently, one sprinter can run 30 mph!), and how it was unfair that the Chinese had received some of the medals unfairly, and how it was sad that the Chinese gymnasts were taken from their homes at the age of 3 and only allowed to see their parents once a year. Megan's going to China next Tuesday until December 23 which I thought was amazing, but I was also jealous (in a good way). I asked her if she had seen the commercial for the Mandarin phrasebook on the ipod touch, and she said that she had, and I told her that I had it on my ipod, and she thought it was awesome. I told her I'd let her borrow it for her trip, and then she told me that it was until December. The selfish side of me wanted to withdraw my offer, but I'm sure I will feel much happier if she took it to China. We arrived to her house after running down main street and 8^th avenue to 5^th street to 13^th avenue. After walking around the block as a cool down, Megan's parents pulled into the driveway, back from dropping Mitch off at Notre Dame in Indiana. Megan greeted them, we talked about Notre Dame and Mitch's diabetic roommate, and we headed inside where I had a refreshing glass of ice water and we watched the end of the marathon. The diving competition began and we talked about how I wanted to learn how to dive and she wanted to learn how to swim. When the first commercial break came, I decided that I had better return to our house (I was supposed to be watching Josh with Jake), so I basically sprinted all the way back. I don't think I've ever run that long that fast. I watched as the Australian miraculously took the gold medal away from the Chinese diver. Finally, the folks got home; I ate supper, and then went up to my room where I spent about 15 minutes meditating, watching YouTube videos of roller coasters (I don't know either) until 2 am when I decided that I should probably catch some zee's. I opened my door, ran downstairs to put my acne medicine on, ran back upstairs to see that someone else was in the bathroom (it was 2 a.m.!), walked into my room, heard the bathroom door open, and stepped through the doorway just as my mom was peering in, and I leapt back, frightened. She asked me what I was doing, and I told her about the roller coasters, and she looked confused, so I went and brushed my teeth. I returned to my room, watched a couple more videos and went to bed around 2:30.

08/24/08

2008-08-26T00:35:00.001-07:00

Today, I woke up at 7:34 to my alarm clock, and I hit snoozed, deciding that if I was more awake in 4 minutes, I would go to the crazy Sunday morning soccer practice. When the alarm clock buzzed again, I knew that I wasn't motivated enough to get myself out of bed, so I turned the alarm clock off. Barely 20 minutes later, my sister pounded on the door, wanting me to get up for church or to go to the 10:30 church service 15 minutes I way. I weighed my options and decided that it would be easier to just go to church early and have it done early. After church, there was a presentation by the students who went to Honduras for the mission trip, and I had the opportunity to talk with the exchange student, Dominique, from Chile. I returned home where I lounged around the house for awhile, checking Facebook, and doing other random things, ate a breakfast of eggs and toast, and eventually made it up to my bed where I took a power nap until 3:30. At 4, I headed out to the high school where we had basically the same Link Crew orientation that we had already had in the spring. My link crew partner is Alyssa O., and she is a blast! We made our posters patriotic until we got tired at the end, and then we simply hurried through them. After link crew, I met up with Devin, Natalie, and Sarah, and we drove to my house to take a bathroom break, and then we went to Jalissa's house for the bonfire. The whole Kelsey crew was over there for about 5 minutes and then left, so we were left with Noah, Jalissa, and a few other kids (Jacki, Linnea), and then Erik L. showed up, and we were slightly scared, and soon, Devin had to leave, so we all left with her. Devin dropped Natalie, Sarah, and I off at my house and we watched Anastasia, and compared it to Disney movies (It's 20^th Century Fox), and how they took many things from Disney movies we had already seen. Around 12:30, everyone left, so I checked the internet, motivated myself to do some sit-ups and other exercises and went to sleep.