6.29.2006
Midsummer drunk driving down
And all I did for the solstice was have a cigarette while I watched the sunset late in the evening. Gots to move myself to Latvia: Midsummer drunk driving down
Do Not Resuscitate
So I just got a phone call from a very old friend. He sounded a little drunk. “Joe,” he says, “Are you home? I need a favor, like right now.”
Where the fuck am I going to be? I think to myself, I’m trapped in the suburbs with no car and the girl I thought I’d be spending the summer with is marrying a guy she met a few weeks ago. I’m home you motherfucker, and you’re drunk, and there’s a girl with you, why do you sound worried? “Yeah, I’m home,” I say.
“Are you near a computer?”
I’m always near a computer – I’m friggin’ addicted to my computer, I have nothing else to do these days except read about other people’s lives cuz I am sorely lacking one and jerk off to porn. “Yeah,” I say.
“I need you to look up the word ‘resuscitate’ and tell me how it’s spelled.”
“You want me to look up the word resuscitate?”
“Yeah, I just got ‘Do not resuscitate’ tattooed on me and I think the motherfuckers spelled it wrong.”
“You got … who did this?”
“A friend.”
Right, drunken friends who can’t spell should never be asked to tattoo anything, let alone words that have spelling bee candidate written all over them. “Hold on, I’m looking it up right now…” I was pretty sure I knew how to spell it, but since this seemed rather important I wanted to make sure I got it right.
‘Yeah, tell me how it’s spelled , I’m gonna write it down and then go look in the mirror and see what they did…”
“Ok, here you go .. r – e – s – u – s – c – i – t – a – t – e . Got it?”
“Ok, r – e – s – s –“
“No, bro, r-e-s u-s-c i-t-a-t-e.”
This time he repeated it back correctly. ‘Ok, now hold on, I’m gonna go check.” His voice grew distant but I could still here him, and some woman’s voice, who all along had been saying, “I can’t believe you don’t believe me.” But now she was getting quiet and I could only hear his voice, “I don’t know how to spell looking upside down!” Apparently neither could the tattooist: “Oh my fucking god.” His voice grew louder and I heard him pick the phone back up, “Oh my fucking god.”
“They misspelled it?”
“Oh my god. Yeah. Thanks buddy, I gotta’ go.”
I’m not sure if he heard me tell him I’d give him a ring tomorrow, and I have a hunch his solution to the problem was going to be to drink more of whatever he’d already been drinking. Hopefully, he’ll wait til he’s sober to get the problem fixed. It may be of little consolation, but he’s not alone: http://www.cnn.com/US/9908/26/fringe/tattoo.update/
Where the fuck am I going to be? I think to myself, I’m trapped in the suburbs with no car and the girl I thought I’d be spending the summer with is marrying a guy she met a few weeks ago. I’m home you motherfucker, and you’re drunk, and there’s a girl with you, why do you sound worried? “Yeah, I’m home,” I say.
“Are you near a computer?”
I’m always near a computer – I’m friggin’ addicted to my computer, I have nothing else to do these days except read about other people’s lives cuz I am sorely lacking one and jerk off to porn. “Yeah,” I say.
“I need you to look up the word ‘resuscitate’ and tell me how it’s spelled.”
“You want me to look up the word resuscitate?”
“Yeah, I just got ‘Do not resuscitate’ tattooed on me and I think the motherfuckers spelled it wrong.”
“You got … who did this?”
“A friend.”
Right, drunken friends who can’t spell should never be asked to tattoo anything, let alone words that have spelling bee candidate written all over them. “Hold on, I’m looking it up right now…” I was pretty sure I knew how to spell it, but since this seemed rather important I wanted to make sure I got it right.
‘Yeah, tell me how it’s spelled , I’m gonna write it down and then go look in the mirror and see what they did…”
“Ok, here you go .. r – e – s – u – s – c – i – t – a – t – e . Got it?”
“Ok, r – e – s – s –“
“No, bro, r-e-s u-s-c i-t-a-t-e.”
This time he repeated it back correctly. ‘Ok, now hold on, I’m gonna go check.” His voice grew distant but I could still here him, and some woman’s voice, who all along had been saying, “I can’t believe you don’t believe me.” But now she was getting quiet and I could only hear his voice, “I don’t know how to spell looking upside down!” Apparently neither could the tattooist: “Oh my fucking god.” His voice grew louder and I heard him pick the phone back up, “Oh my fucking god.”
“They misspelled it?”
“Oh my god. Yeah. Thanks buddy, I gotta’ go.”
I’m not sure if he heard me tell him I’d give him a ring tomorrow, and I have a hunch his solution to the problem was going to be to drink more of whatever he’d already been drinking. Hopefully, he’ll wait til he’s sober to get the problem fixed. It may be of little consolation, but he’s not alone: http://www.cnn.com/US/9908/26/fringe/tattoo.update/
6.27.2006
It might be time for another road trip
So I haven’t written in a while, as I suspected would happen. I’m wrestling with some serious depression, but if I watch any more episodes of Star Trek, LOST and Battlestar Galactica I’m gonna’ lose my mind. Ideally what I need to do is hit the road for awhile. Italy can’t come soon enough – although I’m sure I’ll think of her while I’m there – but at least we never traveled there together. It’s my place of sorts and if you gotta be lonely, I guess Italy is a pretty fantastic place to be melancholy. When I get back, I may have to take a ride across the country like i did a few years ago - and maybe make it to the west coast this time? In the meantime, it’s time to play some catch up on this here bloggy thing.
Back in early June I came home and graduated. Managed to pull off a 4.0 in my 2 years at U Mass Boston. Summa Cum Laude and distinction within the department.
To top it off, Senator Barak Obama was in the house and gave a speech that I can only describe as Kennedy-esque.
Someone has to tap him for VP in ’08. His message will resonate with working class America. And while some of the US may still not be ready for an African American a heartbeat away from the White House, if Obama gets a chance to debate at that level, he will win far more hearts and votes than the color of his skin might lose him. He has the intellect of Kerry, but the charisma of Kennedy, and a sincerity I haven’t seen since Carter. He is down to earth, and speaks with an understanding of working class hell and poverty that seems to escape most politicians. I’m excited to be moving to Chicago and have him as my Senator.
Before coming home, I had some fun times during my last couple of weeks in the Everglades. I came across my first rattlesnake. Can you spot the Rattlesnake?
Now I know the picture is a bit blurry and all, but trust me, even when I was standing some six or seven feet away from the damn thing, I could barely see it and lost track of it while staring right at it. The camouflage that these animals possess is mind bogllingly perfect for their surroundings and environment. Evolution in action – those snakes with the mutation for the best pattern survive the most and have the most baby snakes likely to also carry the trait. Coincidentally, I’m reading a book called Nature's Numbers that talks about why certain patterns (definable by mathematical formulas) appear in nature so often. For instance, snake pigmentation and the growth pattern of bushes and weeds and such – how is it that camouflage evolves? Professor Ian Stewart describes how patterns rise out of breakdowns in symmetry, and that the breakdowns happen with some predictability. When wind blows across the desert, the sand does not settle uniformly, but in patterns related to windspeed, angle of winds and a myriad of other factors (including the fat that sands of grain are not perfectly round and collide with each other, knocking each other in every direction, but within a confines and limited area dictated byt the strength of the wind). Similarly, the chemical game that goes on in creating an animal’s pigment is also beset my a myriad of factors that often prevent a uniform distribution of pigment throughout an animals skin. Like the asymmetrical patterns of sand dunes that arise in the desert, patterns can arise in pigment distribution. Those conditions that allow for a pigment distribution that results in better camouflage are at least in part often controlled by genes, and those animals with the better camouflage survive far more often and pass on the genes for those traits that result in the camouflage.
Enough evolutionary Biology for now, so here’s the rattlesnake:
Back in early June I came home and graduated. Managed to pull off a 4.0 in my 2 years at U Mass Boston. Summa Cum Laude and distinction within the department.
To top it off, Senator Barak Obama was in the house and gave a speech that I can only describe as Kennedy-esque.
Someone has to tap him for VP in ’08. His message will resonate with working class America. And while some of the US may still not be ready for an African American a heartbeat away from the White House, if Obama gets a chance to debate at that level, he will win far more hearts and votes than the color of his skin might lose him. He has the intellect of Kerry, but the charisma of Kennedy, and a sincerity I haven’t seen since Carter. He is down to earth, and speaks with an understanding of working class hell and poverty that seems to escape most politicians. I’m excited to be moving to Chicago and have him as my Senator.
Before coming home, I had some fun times during my last couple of weeks in the Everglades. I came across my first rattlesnake. Can you spot the Rattlesnake?
Now I know the picture is a bit blurry and all, but trust me, even when I was standing some six or seven feet away from the damn thing, I could barely see it and lost track of it while staring right at it. The camouflage that these animals possess is mind bogllingly perfect for their surroundings and environment. Evolution in action – those snakes with the mutation for the best pattern survive the most and have the most baby snakes likely to also carry the trait. Coincidentally, I’m reading a book called Nature's Numbers that talks about why certain patterns (definable by mathematical formulas) appear in nature so often. For instance, snake pigmentation and the growth pattern of bushes and weeds and such – how is it that camouflage evolves? Professor Ian Stewart describes how patterns rise out of breakdowns in symmetry, and that the breakdowns happen with some predictability. When wind blows across the desert, the sand does not settle uniformly, but in patterns related to windspeed, angle of winds and a myriad of other factors (including the fat that sands of grain are not perfectly round and collide with each other, knocking each other in every direction, but within a confines and limited area dictated byt the strength of the wind). Similarly, the chemical game that goes on in creating an animal’s pigment is also beset my a myriad of factors that often prevent a uniform distribution of pigment throughout an animals skin. Like the asymmetrical patterns of sand dunes that arise in the desert, patterns can arise in pigment distribution. Those conditions that allow for a pigment distribution that results in better camouflage are at least in part often controlled by genes, and those animals with the better camouflage survive far more often and pass on the genes for those traits that result in the camouflage.
Enough evolutionary Biology for now, so here’s the rattlesnake:
6.20.2006
I've picked a hell of a school to go to after a nasty breakup:
Are people at the University of Chicago actually as ugly and unsociable as we think?
and someone actually did a study to find out and, well, yes...
collegecuteness.com
Thankfully, I'll be living in the 3rd largest city in the country. So, I just have to remind myself every so often to leave campus. However, I've been told that's basically not an option for the first six months of so.
One grad student told me to be prepared for 700 pages of reading in some weeks.
So what's a few more months of celibacy. It's not like I'm anything but damaged goods these days. Yes, i am a broken toy. I am fragile and should not be played with. Does anyone have any duct tape.
Just keep on smokin'...
and someone actually did a study to find out and, well, yes...
collegecuteness.com
Thankfully, I'll be living in the 3rd largest city in the country. So, I just have to remind myself every so often to leave campus. However, I've been told that's basically not an option for the first six months of so.
One grad student told me to be prepared for 700 pages of reading in some weeks.
So what's a few more months of celibacy. It's not like I'm anything but damaged goods these days. Yes, i am a broken toy. I am fragile and should not be played with. Does anyone have any duct tape.
Just keep on smokin'...
6.16.2006
6.14.2006
There is little joy in my life at this moment
Ashley, the person I have cared about most in my life, told me today that she plans on marrying the man she met six weeks ago.
If I don't post here for awhile, well, I'm feelin' a bit wrecked these days.
So much I planned on posting here about Florida, and Italy asnd such, but I'm lacking the motivation. Who knows though, eventually I'll probably get manic and then we'll see what I come up with.
Somewhere, I am angry, but the sadness and loss I feel is overwhelming.
And to think, I hoped to come home and maybe patch things up.
Add foolish to the things overwhelming anger.
If I don't post here for awhile, well, I'm feelin' a bit wrecked these days.
So much I planned on posting here about Florida, and Italy asnd such, but I'm lacking the motivation. Who knows though, eventually I'll probably get manic and then we'll see what I come up with.
Somewhere, I am angry, but the sadness and loss I feel is overwhelming.
And to think, I hoped to come home and maybe patch things up.
Add foolish to the things overwhelming anger.
6.08.2006
cant sleep cant sleep cant sleep cant sleep
I have been: a bike courier, a writing major, an ice cream scooper,
proprietor of an underground bar/snack shack, a musician, an activist,
an events producer, a Master of Ceremonies in front of 100,000
stoners, a toker, a smoker, a magazine publisher, a journalist, a
small businessman, an editor, an anthropology major, an organic
farmer, a construction worker, and soon I will be a PhD student. I
have been ecstatic and brokenhearted, and at the moment I am writing
this I am both. I am healthier now than I was 10 years ago. I can be
stubborn or passionate depending on whether or not you agree with my
position. I have been a hero and a dissapointment. I have had hair of
every color of the rainbow, dreads and a mohawk. Now my skull is
simply adorned wih a tattoo of "Aum". I have attended pagan rituals,
Catholic Masses and played drums in a circle with West African
Masters. I have played guitar poorly onstage, and bass well on one or
two occasions. I have been beat up after a gig, and graduated summa
cum laude. I am confused.
proprietor of an underground bar/snack shack, a musician, an activist,
an events producer, a Master of Ceremonies in front of 100,000
stoners, a toker, a smoker, a magazine publisher, a journalist, a
small businessman, an editor, an anthropology major, an organic
farmer, a construction worker, and soon I will be a PhD student. I
have been ecstatic and brokenhearted, and at the moment I am writing
this I am both. I am healthier now than I was 10 years ago. I can be
stubborn or passionate depending on whether or not you agree with my
position. I have been a hero and a dissapointment. I have had hair of
every color of the rainbow, dreads and a mohawk. Now my skull is
simply adorned wih a tattoo of "Aum". I have attended pagan rituals,
Catholic Masses and played drums in a circle with West African
Masters. I have played guitar poorly onstage, and bass well on one or
two occasions. I have been beat up after a gig, and graduated summa
cum laude. I am confused.
6.04.2006
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