Let us....let us reflect

The ball has dropped, the champagne is going flat, the new year is upon and barely a few minutes old. I spent the passing over outside drinking cheap champagne (I shouldn't have gotten a brut, but like anything you buy at Kroger is going to be vintage) and smoking a cigar. I knew the new year was upon us by the yelling of drunkards and the pop of local fireworks. As the old year closes like the last page of a book, we reflect on the last sentence and the paragraphs before. The year brought me beginnings and endings. Gains and losses. It found me dabbling my hand at dating and the subsequent failure. It found me dabbling my hand at publishing and the subsequent failure. It found me far from the presence but close in the spirit of my good friends all over the country. I hope I brought them a tenth of the pleasure they brought me. It brought a new warmth into my life in the form of my kitty, whom I love and loves me. It brought the loss of relatives, whose kindness I am grateful for.

Last year at this time I posted a list of new years resolutions. Let's have a look, shall we?

• Pay off my credit card debt before buying a new recliner (as mine just broke), a new computer screen, or a new computer mouse.

Mission accomplished there. I paid off my credit card, then bought a new recliner, new monitor, new mouse and new cat. Then I went to Vegas and got myself in a completely new and uncharted level of credit card debt. However, outside of the monetary loss, I am suffering that trip in no other way.

• Go on at least 6 dates, one before the end of February.

I did not go out on a date before February, though I did one soon after. In total I had 4 dates with 3 women. The results of that issue have already been discussed on this blog in length.

• Allow my mancrush for Mike Rowe to proceed unchecked.

Done and done.

• Finish Pebbleman and actually look into publishing it.

I did finish Pebbleman, and though I can't ever like what I write, I can reach a certain level of satisfaction. I did not look into publishing that, though I attempted to publish something else which was rejected twice (I found out on Christmas day that Thomas Waits had been rejected by Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet, merry Christmas to me)

• Attend TacoCon '08, attempt to remember as much of it as I can.

There was no TacoCon '08, for which I blame myself. This year, folks.

• Launch my military coup of Zebulon.

The plan is in progress. Sooooooooon.

• Attain my first major weight point in my weight loss arc.

Not even close. Are we surprised? No.

• Become at least 15% more awesome.

I believe I lost 12.2% of my awesomeness.

• Say at least one thing that makes people double over laughing.

That may have happened somewhere in the year, I am unsure.

• Say at least one thing that makes people give me that look of "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Once a week at least.

• Get drunk.

I....think I did that.

• Embarrass myself publicly.

Many many times.

• Keep my houseplant alive.

It made it to December before it died. My mother and I cooperated to kill it.

• Smoke my Meerschaum more than once.

Didn't smoke it at all. I need some new pipe tobacco.

• Keep my apartment clean (HAHAHAHAHAHA).

Uh....sure....

• Live.

Still trucking.

• Love.

Too much. Or not enough. One of the two.

• Laugh.

Every day.

• Dance like a fool.

A TON. Often at work. Often getting caught.

• Weep like a child.

There were tears, but not weeping tears.

• Hold myself to my New Years resolutions only so much as I want, and not feel guilty if I fail.

That...that I'd say was a success.

So what are the resolutions for this next year? What is to come?

• Ask Marta (the cute girl in the stockroom) out for dinner. Whatever the outcome, it must be asked.
• Work on and submit at least two publications for my job.
• Finish my zombie story and submit it to Wierd Tales
• Start at least one other story
• Have dinner at the Irish Lion at least once a month
• Get to know Noq better
• Post a lot in the Serenity RPG
• Continue to work out at least 3 times a week
• Pay off my credit card (again)
  
• Visit a new city
  
• Blog more
• Bitch less
• Sleep evenly
• Smile in the morning
• Tell everyone I love that I love them
• Ask for forgiveness instead of permission
• Offer a shoulder
• Offer a hand
• Offer a Dr. Pepper
• Be the person people know me to be instead of the person I think I am
• Be the ball
• Heed the advice of Jimmy V.
• Hold myself to my New Years resolutions only so much as I want, and not feel guilty if I fail.

Happy New Year, friends. Happy New Year, my dear dear friends.

I am not a number

"I am Number 2."
"Who is Number 1?"
"You are Number 6."
"I am not a number, I am a free man!"
- The Prisoner

Sweet zombie Jesus they are remaking The Prisoner. They are...remaking...The Prisoner. And there may even be a movie in the works.

Well I guess it's true.

God is dead.

Calling in favors

I need all of you to send out your thoughts and prayers for my buddy Asim. He'll need them right now.

:(

I'm sorry, Asim. Better fortune.

He's done a great job on you, you know

"He's done a great job on you, y'know. Your self esteem is like a notch below Kafka's."
- Manhattan

I don't have self esteem issues. I don't have any self esteem, so how could it be an issue?

...what? What's that look for?

Just a parting shot

On one last note about politics, I give you the lyrics to Chuck Brodsky's song "He Came To Our Town", the greatest song about politics ever. It sums up the whole thing perfectly. It's only half as awesome without the music, but it'll have to do.

He Came To Our Town

He came to our town for maybe an hour
The streets they got swept and they planted some flowers
Babies he kissed and to the people he waved
And he stopped at a Civil War general's grave

He struck just the right pose, he hit just the right chord
When he spoke of the family, and then of the Lord
He addressed the concerns of the common man
And he spoke of the glory of this mighty land

He had just the right color and his smile was fixed
His wardrobe assembled from a bagful of tricks
And he had gobs of make-up that were caked on his face
Starch in his collar, every hair was in place

His wife stood beside him, his daughter did too
Behind them, a flag with the red, white, and blue
Balloons from the rafters they fell to the floor
Oh, happy days were gonna be here once more

He said all the right words, he quoted Bob Dylan songs
He sounded hip even though he quoted them wrong
His closets were cleaned and his history revised
So his record would be spotless in most people's eyes

He could sell you a war and he could revoke your rights
And still come off as your friend in the camera lights
And he'll run negative ads if he has to to win
He'll go back on his word and he will shed his old skin

I was not touched by this guy in the least
He was no savior nor was he the beast
But I have to admit that they staged a good show
It was all reminiscent of four years ago

When he came to our town for maybe an hour
The streets they got swept and they planted some flowers
Babies he kissed and to the people he waved
And he stopped at a Civil War general's grave

After an hour they whisked him away
Things went back to normal, it took two or three days
The homeless returned to living outside
And the flowers that they planted they all wilted and died

He came to our town for maybe an hour
The streets they got swept and they planted some flowers

Let's take him out back

[Sydney is unaware the President is listening]
Sydney Ellen Wade: Your boss is the chief executive of fantasy land!
President Andrew Shepherd: Well, let's take him out back and beat the shit out of him!
- The American President

Well, the election is upon us. I shall try to avoid partisanship (*cough*GO OBAMA*cough*), but I hope everyone got out there and voted. I'm curious to see what the voter turnout will be. I voted this morning. I've been looking forward to it, even avoiding early voting because I want to be part of the event. I'm proudly wearing the sticker. It's amazing the power a sticker can have. I've become more and more interested in politics as I've gotten older. Part of it is the natural sense of civic duty that comes from aging. Part of it comes from the fact that my source of income is dependent on federal funding. I'm not above my wallet. Less wars, more sciences please.

A rotator in my lab is hosting an election returns party tonight (a Dip for Obama party...). I'm not going. For one, I'm not particularly fond of this person. She comes off as very girly girl, very flibbertigibbet, and I don't like that personality type. I could be wrong. This is once again me avoiding a possibility of meeting new people. Shut up, I don't want to hear it. And for two, my mother is going to call tonight to discuss the results, which I can't really do at a party. Plus it would cut into my WoW time.

So I'm going to follow my election night tradition (at least I'm making it my tradition). I'm going to watch the election results while drinking Jim Beam rye whiskey (that stuff'll put hair on your chest) until I get bored and play WoW with the election results in the background. There is only so much fun I can have with this. It just won't be the same without James, Matt and Tasha. Some of the best fun of my life hanging with them watching election results and debates.

I miss you guys. I really miss you guys.

Besides, we won't know the results for sure until tomorrow morning. And, in the end, whoever wins president, it won't really matter. And that's a good thing. Those founding fathers were really damn smart. While some of the specifics may need to change, the underlying principle behind our system of government is built to make sure that no single person can really screw up this country that much. Division of power, checks and balances. Sure the president is the single most powerful person in the country (ok, outside of Bill Gates. And Tom Brady. And Alan Greenspan. But you get my meaning) but he/she isn't all powerful. I love this country.

Oh, and Blue/Kev, just to prove I'm not completely a partisan, I didn't vote democrat down the line. I voted for the libertarian gubernatorial candidate and a couple republican local offices. A judicial seat, the coroner, couple other places.

*walks away humming the Battle Hymn of the Republic*

Sometimes you don't want all the bells and whistles

The benchtop microfuge (small centrifuge) I use broke last week. Sort of. See, most of the microfuges we have in the lab are old and look as if they had been made in someones garage out of spare parts from a 54 Chevy, but they work fine. I'm not that vain. Well, the person that shares my lab bay used some of her excess fellowship money to buy a new one, an ultrafancy one, the one we both use, the one that broke. I was spinning a plasmid prep, the rotor was spinning down when an error came up on the display "Tacho - Error". A tachometer error, fine, whatever. But no amount of shutting off/on or unplugging could get it to reset. I had to use the emergency "fuck you" release to get my samples out. I screwed around with it a little, said forget it, and emailed our lab manager. The microfuge was back today and working. My lab manager sent me an email containing the email she got from the tech support. Now, I want you to bear in mind, this is a brand new, less than one month old, ultra fancy high tech piece of sophisticated lab equipment. How do we get it to reset? I quote:

"open the lid
turn power off
spin the rotor by hand in a counter-clockwise direction
while the rotor is spinning, turn the power on.
You should see the RPMs counting down in the display. If you can do so without hurting
your hand, go ahead and halt the rotor from spinning. You should now get the operating
display."

....the fuck? The way to fix a high end machine is to manually spin the rotor? Why don't they just write in the manual "if you get an error message, pound the machine firmly with your fist until it corrects itself."

But wait, there's more. How did this error happen you ask? Well the tech support guy speculates:

"A Tacho 1 error occurs when a mis-count of the rotor recognition pulses generated
under the rotor occurs. This is kind of a soft error, and I can't really account for
why it happens. Usually something like a power sag or Radio Frequency interferrence
may cause it to happen."

Um, what? Radio frequency interferrence? You have got to be fucking kidding me. Most microfuges I've worked with are so old that I'd be lucky to have any kind of LCD display. Most just have knobs on springs. This damn thing is so fancy that moving too fast past it with my cell phone in my pocket can screw it up. Honestly, that's too much. I find it too fucking hilarious. I'm fighting the urge to make the machine its own personal tinfoil hat and sending an email to the lab letting them know how the foil is there to keep out them pesky alien signals. Seriously, is this thing equipped with Bluetooth? If I start getting text messages from my microfuge at 3 in the morning telling me how lonely it is, we are going to have a "talk". With a sledgehammer.

Well, what do YOU want?

Cause I know what I want. I want the cute girl in the stockroom. I....want...her.

Just sayin'. Want.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

Mission accomplished

Top 5: Night of the Living Top 5

Top 5 people I'd like to have over for a dinner party

5. Robert Osborne

4. Socrates

3. Martin Scorsese

2. Jesus

1. Roger Ebert

Honorable mentions: David Hume, Abraham Lincoln, Nikola Tesla, Martin Luther, Alfred Hitchcock, Winston Churchill, Charlie Chaplin, Eleanor Roosevelt, Maggie Gyllenhall (ok, so it'd be a big dinner party)

Top 5: Marriage of Top 5

Top 5 songs that aren't played at weddings but probably should be.

5. "Coming Down" - Anders Osborne

4. "Blues On A Holiday" - Susan Tedeschi

3. "Fall Too Fast" - The Wood Brothers

2. "Baby Your Love (Is All I Need) - Eugene "Hideaway" Bridges

1. "Don't Tell Me" - Taj Mahal

Honorable mentions: "Loving in my Baby's Eyes" by Taj Mahal (Eric Bibb version also acceptable, "Please Call Me, Baby" by Tom Waits, "Little Trip To Heaven" by Tom Waits, "The Staunton Lick" by Lemon Jelly, "That's What Angels Can Do" by The Wood Brothers, "Lola" by The Kinks, "Couch Potato" by Weird Al Yankovic

Detritus, page 4

1. So talking to my mother last night I was informed that my grandmother died. My paternal grandmother. Aka, my father's mother. As such, I haven't spoken with her in about...oh....15 years. Not that I had anything against her. In fact, I probably got along with her better than any of my other grandparents. But when things soured with my father I understandably lost contact with that side of the family. My father was wheelchair-ridden due to diabetes and for the past 10 years has been living with his mother with assisted-living people assisting their living. Or so I'm told. Like I said, I don't contact that side of the family. But I am sad my grandmother passed on. According to my mother, she was 93. She was, as my father once put it, a tough old bird. And she really was. Her maiden named was Drake (how awesome a name is that?) and my mother always tells me she thinks I got my genes from that particular branch of the family tree. The Drakes were large people. Tall and wide, big bones, big frames, not fat per se, just big people. I'm built like that. Underneath the fat, there is a large frame and I'm obviously pretty dang tall. As my mother described it last night, we are built like trees. I like to think that makes a more direct connection between me and the one redeemable branch of my paternal family tree (the Drakes). Rest in peace, Grandma. Life handed you a speeding bullet of shit, you took it on the chin, and never complained one day. You were a lady made of steel. Time for your rest.

2. In other death related news, Paul Newman passed away. I already covered my feelings on this in other places.

3. I shared this with Taco, but I might as well share it with the rest of you. Don't worry Taco, you're still special, baby. Anyways, people have been doing the google analytics thang, so I decided to give it a shot. Since I just set it up I don't quite have the list of search hits that other people have, but I did have 4 hits through Google search engine that I thought were pretty funny taken as a whole. The first three were fairly intelligent. 1. Do not confuse the pointing finger with the moon. Ok, the zen warning I posted before. That's pretty smart. 2. Edward Scissorhands Ethics Conversation. Hey, that sounds like someone I'd like to chat with, right on. 3. Les Barker Occasional Table. Alright, another Les Barker fan! Spread the word of Englands greatest comedic point. What's the fourth hit you ask? Adultfungirls.com. That pretty much sums me up, I think. A veneer of intelligence over a core of smuttiness. How that search came to my site, I haven't a clue. But right on.

4. I have a crush on the cute girl in the stockroom. Shut up, Blue. I still have no hope. Nothing will happen. NOTHING WILL HAPPEN.

5. I took my cat to the vet last week. Nothing is wrong, just time for her 3rd round of booster shots. The vet opened the door to her cat carrier and she stepped out and started sniffing around, checking things out. The vet said, "my, you're a confident little girl, aren't you." And then I realized, hey, she really is. She didn't hide in her carrier. She was presented with a new situation and a new person and she immediately started exploring. I...I'm not sure how I feel about having a cat more emotionally balanced than I am. I would've been at the back of the carrier hiding. I also am pretty certain she is smarter than I am too. Maybe if I'm lucky she'll start bringing in a paycheck and I can retire.

6. I've pretty much stopped using my elliptical runner, which means I'm only working out three days a week. But you know what? This semester the Monday and Friday classes are taught by Crazy Devil Woman. Ms. Hey Let's Do Squats And Lunges The First 25 Minutes Of Class. My quads have stopped working.

7. Coyote, if you haven't watched The Tao of Steve, you really should. I'm just going to assume you have.

8. This past weekend was AV weekend in WoW, and I got the last piece of pvp gear for my mage. I started this odyssey the last AV weekend, so that's 5 weeks. In 5 weeks I upgraded every gear slot for my mage with pvp gear except one (one of the trinket slots, I got the brewfest spell damage trinket and it's not worth grinding honor to upgrade with the pvp trinket. 30k honor for 3 more spell damage? I don't think so). I also spent a day and a half in AV with my shaman getting an upgrade for his MH weapon. I used badges to buy the OH fist weapon and then the Kara group he was running with collapses so he was left with a kickass OH weapon and a shit MH weapon. That has been remedied. So I'm done with pvping. That's it. It's over. No more. One of my guildmates was happy. He said he much preferred my Cranky self (normal mind set) over my Homicidal self (pvping mind set). Pvping really is like swinging two bags of retarded children together. And if you don't play WoW this probably doesn't make any sense. And you should be playing WoW.

9. For those of you that play Spore, the Grox are not to be fucked with. They own every system around the center of the galaxy. Getting to said center is the "goal" of the game. I tried twice to get there. Once I quarter-assed it, the other time I half-assed it. Both times ended poorly. The only way I'm getting there is using my full ass. The systematic destruction of the Grox. Which could take YEARS.

10. We have a departmental email listserv. No shock, pretty much every department everywhere has one. People occasionally abuse this listserv to their own personal gain. For example, advertising a local roller derby match (which I totally have to see) or selling some of their shit. We have a person who washes the glassware for the lab and a couple other labs. She's a middle aged woman, about 5 feet tall with bushy red hair, named Rhonda. Last week she sent an email to the listserv trying to sell a couple musical instruments. A large keyboard and a viola. Today she sent another email to the listserv. This time she's selling a suit of chain mail and a helmet. This is also the woman that walked up to one of the people in the lab one time and proclaimed, "so my ex-husband gave me herpes." Rhonda....Rhonda scares me a little.

The mass of men

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.
- Henry David Thoreau (a huge prat)

I was walking along the street one day when I thought about what might happen if you could hear other peoples thoughts. Then I felt sorry for the person that could hear my thoughts. They would hear only a single, continuous scream.

Also walking along the street I overheard a woman talking on her cell phone say, "and then she fell asleep in the laundry basket." I now wish I stopped her and found out the rest of the story. If it weren't for my horse....

I asked for it

"I asked for it. 'To be heading into the inexorable...where no mother will care for us...no woman crosses our path...where only reality reigns...with cruelty and grandeur.' I was drunk with those words. Well, this is reality."
- Das Boot

It's time to face certain realities. It's time to come to grips with the fact that my life will not be the way I wanted it. That I will never have a wife. Someone to build a home with. Someone to come home to. Someone to balance my life and me balance hers. To lean on like two trees in the wind. It's time to realize I will never have a son, or a daughter. A child to care for. A child to watch grow and become a full person. A child to try and lend what knowledge I've garnered in my life. It's time to face the fact that the lonely house I come home to each night is all there will ever be. For as long as I live there will only be that empty quiet. That all the dreams I dreamed for myself are falsehoods and deceptions. And that only this stark reality remains.

I can has lolcat?

In other news, I canceled my match.com subscription. I have officially given up.

I don't have to beget a child

No, I don't have to beget a child or plant a tree but it would be rather nice coming home after a long day to feed the cat.
- Wings Over Berlin

There have been recent developments in the cat escapade, which I won't go into here. Suffice to say, I have a lovely little kitten coming to my home on Saturday. I am very excited. It is a female and I've already named her Mira. Those of you who knew about my little...ahem...obsession with KOTOR II should not find this surprising. I have pictures. I will post them sometime.

The Chicago Diaries (again)

Friday: I drive to Chicago. Half the time I'm listening to new music I bought. The other half of the time I'm listening to the Cubs lose. Freaking Cubs and their losing. I get to Chicago and head to my mothers place. We talk about how much the Cubs suck, then we go to dinner at Red Robin, which is one of only two places I can get a cheeseburger with a fried egg on top. I nom and am happy. The stomach is not. Between the burger, the fries and an order of onion rings my mother gets, I have consumed my body weight in grease. I'm exhausted. I tell my mother I'm lame and go back to her boyfriends condo where I am staying (so I don't die from allergies to my mothers cats) and pass out.

Saturday: My one non-family day. My mother has tickets to go see Niel Diamond with her boyfriend (she loves Niel Diamond in a way I'm not sure is healthy). This works out perfectly, as this is one of the nights my old friend Asim is free. So I wake up around 11, head over to my moms place and watch the Cubs lose (again) before she heads off to the concert. I kill time reading a book my mother brought from her library for me to read. It is called the Journey of Luke Skywalker. It is an analysis of themes and motifs and other things in the original Star Wars trilogy through the view of Jungian Symbolism. As much, it's mostly full of crap, but there are a few new things it makes me think about, so I wouldn't call my time reading it wasted. However, it lost me at the end when the author makes a case for the reason people don't like the Episode I is that they don't understand the symbolism. Bullshit, the movie is plain bad.

Asim calls and we make plans to hit the theater as per our tradition. We meet and head to dinner first, as I needed to nom. Oh hey, a brew pub! Fie on your religious policies Asim, there is beer to be had! I drink the sampler, which contains like 42 different beers and my toes start to tingle while I eat a steak. Mmmmm, steak. Oh yes, I forgot, I greet one of my best friends by immediately making fun of how much hair he has lost. I am not a good person. Asim and I chat, all is well. I ask about his upcoming wedding and learn more about his wife-to-be. I am excited to meet her as it sounds like we will get along. Hell, I might get along better with her than Asim. Honestly man, how can you not like Bollywood films?

We conclude the evening by watching the new X-files movie, which with both agree could have easily been made without the X-files being involved at all. In fact, I think it might have been better. Overall, I give it a meh. Asim and I say our goodbyes with the full knowledge we will see each other again in December at his wedding, which would make it shortest time between meetings since we worked at the theater together. Seriously, I hope I have some stuff to talk about by then. Oh who am I kidding, we won't be talking, he'll be in marriage ceremony hell. But WOOOOO I get to see the full weekend festivities for his wedding. I'm excited.

Sunday: Baseball game #1. As per another tradition, my mother and I with accompanying other folks take in a Cubs game at Wrigley. Myself, my mother, her boyfriend and a friend of his head to the ballgame. The boyfriend has procured the tickets from a vendor trying to impress one of the companies he works for (the man wears many hats). Ergo, we get fucking awesome tickets. Row 14. Row fucking 14, up directly from third base, next to the home dugout. This has simultaneous effects of being awesome (great seats) and horrible (we are sitting in direct sunlight). There are all of five clouds in the sky, the sun is beating down, and I'm sweating like a motherfuck. I coat myself with suntan lotion, otherwise my Irish skin will burst into flames. Of course I miss three spots: along my sideburns, the top of my left knee and amazingly a spot on my left hand. I discover these spots later.

So I'm broiling with a nice marinade and the Cubs go down 5-0. Blech. The fourth inning arrives and so does the shade cast by the upper deck. People next to us never show, so we spread out with spacer seats between us. The shade is refreshing, and I'm starting to cool off. The Cubs heat up. "Enough of this bullshit," they say, as they pound out 9 runs on a way to a 9-6 victory. We are going nuts, life is all good.

The game ends, we take the El back to the car in Skokie, drive home. I'm tired beyond reason. I don't understand it. All I did was sit and watch a baseball game and I'm freaking exhausted. This happens every time I go to a game. I head back to the condo, shower off the sweat and lotion, and fall asleep, tired but pleased.

Monday: Visit the family day. I must making the obligitory house calls to my sisters and see them or they will never let me forget it. So we head over to one sisters and discover the other is showing up there too. Fantastic, two birds with one stone. My sisters place stinks of cat urine. This is not a surprise as they have FOUR FUCKING CATS. In addition to a dog, rabbits, and I think a sloth as well. You never know with my sister. She has an addiction.

I visit with the family and abscond before my sinuses leap out of my face. Mother and I head back to hear place to eat barbecued brisket (YUM) and watch the Cubs beat up on the Brewers before heading out to watch Hellboy II. Her choice, I might add. I am pleased with the film, it is much better than the first Hellboy. We part and I go to sleep. All is well.

Tuesday: Baseball game #2, with a twist! We go to see another Cubs game. But, the thing is, the Cubs aren't at home. They are playing the Brewers in Milwaukee. Road Trip! Myself, my mother, her boyfriend and a friend of hers from work drive up to Milwaukee to see the game. Reports are that traffic getting up there is horrendous, so we leave 17 hours early. There is absolutely NO traffic and we get there with 2 hours to spare before the game. So we go to the TGIFridays there in the park and eat dinner. I begin drinking beer. Mothers boyfriend buys me an Amstel, which is nice of him, but damnit, I'm in Milwaukee! So I quickly finish that beer and get me a Leinie's Red. Traditional Wisconsin beer. I might mention I haven't each much at this point. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Dinner finishes just in time to head for our seats before the game. Seats are in the 200's (first balcony) right next to the pressbox. Nice seats. The park is like half Cubs fans that came up from Chicago, and it's a city rivalry. Much fun to be had. I have a third beer. Carlos Zambrano is on fucking fire, shutting down the Brewers in an ugly fashion. Cubs offense puts up 7 runs. Cubs beat the Brewers for a second night in a row. We are ecstatic, Cubs fans are going nuts. There is general pandemonium as we leave the park at 10:30 and do the long the drive home. I'm exhausted. My mother is about to die. She had to get up at 3 AM to drive my one sister to the airport, then be up at 6 AM for her regular golfing date, then go the game. Plus she had to drive the last hour of the drive. How she didn't pass out I'll never know. I get back to my bed at 2 AM and collapse.

Wednesday: Bumming around with Mom day. I wake up ungodly late and watch Batman Begins for reasons that come later. Head over to Mom's place. We plan on screwing around downtown Naperville in the afternoon. My previous trip we did that and had a great time hitting an antique shop and used bookstore where I made huge finds in both places. The bookstore has since closed. We head downtown to find that the antique store has also closed. My mother expresses general despair and disgust at the state of downtown Naperville. In order to not waste a trip, we head to the candy store. I buy Charleston Chews and 2 pounds of jellybeans. I discover the existance of Dr. Pepper jellybeans and my life is changed forever.

We pick up a metric fuckton of food from Portillo's (yet another tradition) and eat it while we watch the Cubs beat up on the Brewers for a fourth night in a row. Then we go to see The Dark Knight.

The original plan had been to see it in the IMAX, but this falls through as the IMAX is sold out. Oh well, we go so it in the regular theater. We are both blown away by how awesome it is. Beyond awesome. It's....awesomenth. Go see it.

My mother and I talk in the parking lot for a half hour about the movie before retiring to our respective beds.

Thursday: Cultural Day. My mother and I share a love for the city of Chicago. We both love our city very much and are interested in its history. She's the one that told me to read Devil in the White City. Plus, she loves that when I come home I like to do tourist-y things in downtown Chi-town. The type of things you never think to do when you live there.

We get up early (seriously, earlier than I usually get up for work) and head to downtown via the Metra. Ah the train, good fun. We get there early for our first appointment, so we walk along the riverfront a dozen blocks or so. The day is generally nice, Chicago is great. To kill time we go into the Corner Bakery, which seems to be a local chain. I have a damn good club panini. Then hit our first appointment.

The architectural boat tour. It is a ferry tour up and down the Chicago river looking and learning about the architecture of the city. My mothers idea, and I love it. The tour is 90 minutes, the first thirty of which are in the sun before a front moves through the city. We get sprinkled on slightly, but the rain stays mostly away until the last 5 minutes of the tour, at which point we were just heading back to port and we scurry below deck. I love the architecture of the city. And I further learn about how fucking brilliant Daniel Burnham is. I learned about him in the Devil in the White City as he was the chief architect behind the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago, but his influence in the city goes far beyond that. He shaped the way the entire city looks, and I bet most Chicagoans don't know that. Boat tour is much fun.

Afterwards we walk around the Tribune Tower as we learned on the tour has rocks from all over the world stuck into the masonry. Rocks from all 50 states, rocks from things like the Parthenon and the Forbidden City. Obviously, not all rocks were legally obtained, but it was the early 1900's, so whatever. After this we go for lunch.

The Billy Goat Tavern. Lower Michigan avenue (underground). Greasy spoon. This is a Chicago mecca. For those of you that may have watched old SNL, the skit with John Belushi and the "CHEESEBURGER CHEESEBURGER CHEESEBURGER" thing was based on this place. It is a Chicago fixture. I have a doublecheeseburger and a root beer in the Billy Goat Tavern and watch the Cubs beat the Brewers. For those that follow baseball, you will understand how huge the four game sweep of the Brewers was. For those that don't, trust me, it was huge. And the perfect place to watch the game was in the Billy Goat Tavern. I'm in love with this place.

We wander among the shops downtown heading in the general direction of our other major appointment. The Art Institute of Chicago. I don't know much about art. I wish I did. I figure the best way to learn is to go look at art. To the Art Institute we go! Unfortunately most of the exhibits I want to see are closed. So it goes. But we have a good time, find some things we like, generally become cultural and I express my disgust at European painters in the pre-modernist period. Such depressing paintings. However, before leaving, I hit the gift shop and pick up a nice matte'd print of one of my favorite paintings, "Nighthawks" by Edward Hopper. I need to frame that and get on my wall. Next target, a nice print of Rene Magritte's "Son of Man".

We walk back to the train station, our feet killing us, and get back home tired but happy.

Friday: A few loose ends to tidy up before leaving. Breakfast with my mother at a nice restaurant. Eggs benedict, nom. Then out to my sisters again. She is fostering a kitten. A friend of my mothers found a 2 day old kitten in her backyard (the rest of the litter was later found, not alive) and took it to my sister (aka Dr. Doolittle). They managed to keep it alive and healthy, which is something of a miracle. Moms friend is taking care of it, but my sister who helped nurture it is looking after it for a week starting that day while Friend was out of town. I've heard so much about this kitten that I need to see it. Kitten is cute as only kittens can be, and is in full kitten mode. My own kitten cannot arrive fast enough.

I say my goodbyes to mother and promise I'll call. She loads me up with food and sends me on my way. I also pickup a ton of food from my favorite Chineese restaurant before I go. Cafe Jasmine. Best. Potstickers. Ever. And then I hit Frye's for the Spaced DVD and a few other things. Then I'm off on the road to Indiana and home. I take a different route that has less traffic but adds 30 minutes to my drive. Plus ungodly tolls. Seriously, a $2 toll? Fuck you, IDOT. I listen to the Cubs game as I drive back. They lose. Stupid Cubs and their losing.

Detritus, page three

1. My vacation can't get here fast enough. Seriously. Neither can mai kitten. Whom I've seriously considered naming "Lol". I am a sick, sick man.

2. I had a fairly decent Saturday actually. I slept in. And although my WoW raid got canceled I spent the afternoon watching old episodes of Farscape and playing Tiger Woods on the Wii. Then I went in to work. I spent an hour at work taking care of a couple things, it was no big deal. Then afterwards I went out to dinner. By myself. I went to my favorite restaurant, The Irish Lion. I got all the food I love. Blarny Puffballs (deep fried balls of mashed potatoes, garlic and cheese) and mutton pie with coddle. I could eat coddle every meal every day and never grow tired of it. I drank two glasses of mead. The Irish Lion has the best mead. It's got just the right sweetness, not too dry, not too sweet. In between courses/drinks I jotted down notes for the opening chapter of my Pebbleman novel. Not any actual writing per se, but at least an idea. All in all, quite the pleasant way to pass a meal.

3. I'm so alone. So very alone.

4. I want to get some writing done over my vacation. Sounds very relaxing. Just need to remember to download what I have from the googledoc as where I'm going won't have internet access. I'd like to get the zombie story finished. I could get it completed, whereas the Pebbleman novel would only get the most minor of starts. Shoot for low hanging fruit, that's what I say.

5. I've now managed to scare off four women in a row. Four women now that I've had email conversations with and they just stop responding (well, five if you count the one woman that was seeing someone but wanted to make new friends, but I don't count that one). And it pisses me off. You know, if I grow uninterested in someone, at least I have the goddamn decency to tell them, not just run away. But yeah, my love life is a disaster. I just got an email last night from a woman, but I'm pretty certain she's psychotic. I need to stop. Before I get injured.

6. So very....very alone.

7. Wardenclyffe Tower. Wardenclyffe Tower. I need to do something with that. Yeah.

8. I've been depressed for about a couple weeks. Coincidently, I've been off my medication for about a week during that time (back on it now, was problems with zee doctor). Talked with my doctor about possibly upping the prescription. I'm telling you, Brave New World is severely underrated. Better living through chemistry!

9. I've been doing research. Sometime in early October I think I will be taking a trip to Nevada. To have sex with a prostitute. A high class one. I'm a scientist, when I see a problem I find the simplest and most direct method to fix it.

10. Spaced DVD comes out today. I need to remember to pick that up. I think I'll do that in Chicago, when I make my yearly mecca to the Frye's near my moms place. I have love for The Frye's, I wish it was closer to me. Just as I wish my damn friends lived closer to me. You people need to move. Near me.

Is there a doctor in the house?

Actually, now there's two. My friend James, my dear closest friend in the entire world, has successfully defended his dissertation and joins the ranks of us "doctors". Congratulations buddy, I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it. I'll call you soon, after you've caught up on your sleep.

So, I was in a metafictional mood tonight. I first watched Stranger Than Fiction, then I watched Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. I had never quite "gotten" the latter film before. But this time I went and read some comments at the imdb and I think I finally have a handle on what the film is about (goes to show all of you what an idiot I am, I had to turn to the cretins that comment on imdb for help).

The film is, or at least partly about, fate and the futility of the limitations of human intelligence. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are the subjects of fate. They are at the whims of a larger story, of which they only get small glimpses at. The fate of that story is that they are going to die. The question the film posits is: if Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were able to figure out the entire story, see the big picture, would they be able to change their fate? What the film shows is that they simply cannot fathom the full story. From playing games at questioning that never produce and answer, from having the script of their lives shown to the them by the tragedians, from having the pages of their fate LITERALLY float by them and they unable to read or comprehend what is written there, they simply cannot understand the big picture. By extrapolation, humans are limited in that we cannot comprehend the larger aspects of the universe, and in particular death. The film is very obsessed with death, I think because that is the be all end all of human existence. Literally. Perhaps if we understood the universe, we could understand death (death being fate), but we can't so we don't. We can only stumble along, getting small glimpses at the overall design and accidentally create beautiful things (ala the steam engine, the airplane, the theory of gravity as shown in the film) just to casually discard them.

The thing I can't quite figure out is the purpose of the tragedians. What purpose do they serve? Do the serve the same purpose in the original Hamlet, as a mirror to reality, a mechanism to show us that which is around us that we ignore? In part perhaps, but one gets the feeling that they are more. They are sort of omniscient, hinting at knowing the things we don't know, for example the whole "love, blood and rhetoric" speech, or always having people die in the plays they perform. There is also the famous line by the player: "the audience knows what to expect, and that is all they are prepared to believe". That speaks something close to the limits of human knowledge. But I don't think I see the entire purpose of the tragedians. Any thoughts from the peanut gallery?

Oh, and if you haven't seen the movie, go see the movie. Also, looking up the movie on imdb I found this. I don't....I don't know what to think.

I am the King of Rejection-land

No this is not about my love life. I mean, it could be, nothing's changed there, but it isn't. No, this is about a different and completely new form of rejection for me.

I finally heard back from the Weird Tales people (only took 6 weeks when they said it would be 2-4, but waddayagonnado). They rejected my story. Short, curt note saying it wasn't what they were looking for but to keep them in mind for future submissions. They also said not to submit anything new for 2 weeks as they are backlogged, so that explains that. Of course I'm disappointed, but I'm not surprised. Par for the course, eh? Chances of getting my very first submitted story published? Yeah right. Well, it was nice to dream.

I think I'll make that sort of a life goal. To get one of my stories published before I die. That'd be nice. I wonder if Weird Tales would like my zombie story.....

I have been the victim of a drive-by punning

First I need to refer you to point 6 of this previous post. The "paradigm shifting" has become an inside joke in the lab. It's officially my job now, I am lab paradigm-shifter. So in order to propagate the joke, I made a sign and hung it above my desk. It's just a printout that has "CAUTION" in an octagon, and underneath it says, "PARADIGMS SHIFTING, watch your step". Well, this morning I came in to find someone had added to my sign. Someone, and I don't know exactly who, made a photocopy of two coins, two dimes to be exact, and taped it to my sign. Yes, they added a "pair of dimes."

I don't know what's worse, the pun, or the fact that it took me like an hour to get it.

Also, Larry, you should've told me you were visiting Indiana.

In other news, I am getting a kitten. Eventually. Sometime in September. I'm getting a purebred Siberian. In a sense, I feel a little guilty about it. What with the pet overpopulation problem in this country, it'd probably be more...ethical? eco-conscious? to go down to the animal shelter and pick up a kitten there for $75 instead of spending over $1000 on a purebred. But you know what, that kitten was going to be born anyways. Plus, I have my reasons for getting this specific breed. For one, I want a cat that's more on the cuddly-side, one that likes being picked up and held. Certain breeds do better with that than others, and the Siberian is one of those. Of course, individual results may vary, these are cats after all. But with a stray it's just a crapshoot. The second reason, and while not most important it may end up being just as critical, is that Siberians are considered hypoallergenic. They produce a lot less of the cat allergen protein FelD1 than pretty much any other breed. People that have asthmatic allergies to cats can own a Siberian with no problems. I am allergic to cats. This wasn't going to deter me, I had just planned on buying cases of Claritan, but if I can get away without it, then hey, so much the better. In addition, the purebred lines have been checked and cleared of genetic disorders, which means hopefully less problems down the road. Plus they are so friggen CUTE. The kittens are just adorable little fluffballs, and the cats look just how a cat should look.

Out of curiousity, I looked into the supposed "real hypoallergenic cat". These things start at $10,000 and go upwards of $30,000. The company is noticeably vague when it comes to describing exactly what they did, but with my scientist instincts I was able to get a general idea of what they did, and it's total crap. All they did was genetic screening and a deliberate breeding program, which is crap. If I had the money to breed cats, I could do it myself. The end result is not any better than the Siberian breed, really. It's not like they actually made a transgenic cat, deleting out the felD1 gene. That might warrant the price, not what they actually did. Sometimes it's good to be a scientist.

Anyways, this morningI made a deposit this morning for a kitten with this very nice couple in New Jersey. They are from Russia, though the fact they breed Siberian cats may be just a coincidence. They are also scientists; developmental biology and biochemistry. So they are actually 'colleagues' of mine, which is just super cool. They understand the lifestyle of the scientist, and it's just awesome to deal with a kindred spirit. The queen gave birth to her litter just last night to six kittens. I'm third on the reservation list (of 5 people now, Siberians are very rare, only coming to this country in 1990, and are incredibly in-demand), so I'll get my pick from 4 kittens. They are ready to go to their new homes at 10-12 weeks, so sometime in September my little sweetheart will be coming to me. I am so excited I can't even describe it. I just have to get all the equipment and get the place ready now.

I almost got a Somali, 'cause damn, how can you not love a cat that looks like a little fox. It's the tail, it's all in the tail. If I ever get a second cat, it'll be one of those.

Don't say that!

Ed: Any zombies out there?
Shaun: Don't say that!
Ed: What?
Shaun: That!
Ed: What?
Shaun: The zed-word. Don't say it!
Ed: Why not?
Shaun: Because it's ridiculous!
- Shaun of the Dead

You bastards have corrupted me once again. I'm working on an idea for a zombie story. I hate you all, I really do. Can't you leave my mind alone? I don't even really LIKE zombies. But no, after watching a couple movies and talking with Coyote, I've got an idea and am starting to flesh it out. Perhaps rotting flesh it out. I hate you Larry.

James is a big fucker and should call me.

James, you are a big fucker. And you should call me.

In other news, I am now out of debt. I finally got my "extra paycheck" this month. It's not really extra. Under my old source of income I was getting paid on the last day of the month, but now that I moved to my fellowship I'm getting paid on the first of the month, so this month I got two paychecks. In three years when I go off the fellowship there will be a two month period where I don't get paid, so I better have some money saved up by that point. I had a significant portion of my credit card debt paid off by now, but with the huge surge of money, everything is paid off in full. Plus I got my "economic stimulus oh fuck the economy is tanking" check yesterday, and I had a couple messed up charges on a credit card reversed, so I am positively rolling in dough at the moment (that is, until I have to pay off my quarterly estimated taxes).

So now that I am out of debt, what do I do? GO BACK INTO DEBT, OF COURSE. Not really, but sort of. I have been putting off buying a couple of things until I got my credit cards paid off, time to take care of that. Plus, I've been feeling pretty shitty about myself lately (I won't go into that). Time to go to Best Buy, which I did last night. I've needed a new monitor for my computer for about 3 years. This is the second monitor I've had that didn't crap out but went inordinately dim, so much so that I have to crank up the brightness on everything just to see what the hell is going on. Granted, the monitor is 10 years old at this point, so it really doesn't owe anybody anything. So I bought a new monitor, a 22" widescreen LCD from LG. Probably spent too much, but I DON'T FUCKING CARE. It's a nice monitor, I am pleased. I also bought the Complete Lego Star Wars for the Wii, which may just be the best thing ever. I contemplated buying Legend of Zelda, but I decided to wait. I almost bought Guitar Hero III, but I want to try it out on someone elses machine before I decide to buy it. I also bought some blank DVD's FOR COMPLETELY LEGAL PURPOSES I assure you. All in all, pretty good trip.

Next item to buy, a new recliner. For the past 6 months the only functional chair in my apartment has been my office chair, which will probably need to be replaced sometime soon since it's gotten overworked. I'm going to buy a nice recliner. Possibly leather.

Even with all these expenditures, I'll still be playing with mostly house money. So, for once, my money situation is pretty good. Now if I could get the rest of my life figured out....

What do you want?

Ezekiel Stone: What do you want?
The Devil: Your every waking moment consumed with holding up your end of our bargain.
- Brimstone (another awesome show prematurely canceled by Fox)

Alright, I held up my end. Today I submitted "Thomas Waits for Gai Man" for publication in Weird Tales. That means your ass is on the line, Coyote. If you don't submit for the workshop, you will forever be my subordinate, or, more appropriately, my "bitch".

Also, you fuckers need to post more comments on my other blog. I REQUIRE GRATIFICATION BY MY PEERS DAMNIT.

(I've been so bitter lately, and I have no idea why)

Eh, fuck it

I give up. Now let us never speak of this ever again. Ever.

Third time, perhaps it will be the charm

I got another date tomorrow night. This will be the third person I've gone out with from this internet dating "bidness". We'll see how it goes. We're just going out to see Iron Man.

This is the geek girl. I'm not exactly sure of her geek credentials, but they seem about as legit as mine. She likes Star Trek and Star Wars, collects figures of Captain Kirk, reads David Eddings and Neil Gaiman. Plus, as a benefit, she knows about old movies. She was able to, without provocation, mention the little known Cary Grant/Irene Dunne movie My Favorite Wife, which I love. I was impressed.

So this one has some potential. I say that because I think this woman is a little smitten with me. We've talked on the phone twice now. For 3 hours each time. She seems into me. Me, I'm being more reserved. Once bitten, twice shy, all that. We'll see. I'm playing it slow. I hope she's as pretty as her picture.

There is one thing that...well...it doesn't bother me, but I find it really odd. She never went to college. Got out of high school, got a job. She doesn't seem to be a loser. She's worked at the same place for 9 years, gotten promotions and what not. Just never went to college. It's not a bad thing. It's just...I never EVER would've guessed I'd become involved with someone that didn't go to college. I mean, those are the circles I travel in. I work at colleges, in college towns. I had automatically assumed that anyone I ended up with would have at least some connection to some university some where. I just find it odd. The only real problem it presents is a slight lack of common ground. She won't know exactly what I'm talking about when I talk about my college or grad school days. Not worried about it, just thought I'd mention it.

My perversion knows no bounds

So there I was in my Core class, working out, this afternoon. We were on all fours, doing hamstring exercises. I think you can see where I am going with this. We're in between exercises, and I look up. What do I see? I see the letters PUR-DUE staring back at me, plastered across the ass of the woman next to me. The finely toned ass of the woman next to me. See, we have a new instructor, a guy who I think hasn't taught before, so the previous instructor, a grad student named Natalie, has been around the past couple classes just to make sure he was doing ok. I would like to point out, again, that this was a 20-something year old aerobics instructor. On all fours. In front of me. With her ass in the air. Her incredibly toned and shapely ass.

Needless to say, my thoughts turned naughty.

And then she lifted her leg in the air for the hamstring exercise and on my god is that her underwear yes that's her underwear and it's a bikini-style bottom.

*cough*

I had a good afternoon.

I went up to her afterwards and said, "I have to ask, did you go to Purdue?"
She said, "yeah, why, oh did you read on my-"
"I ALSO SAW YOU HAD A HARRY'S (a bar at Purdue) SHIRT AT ONE TIME." (aka, I wasn't staring at your ass, I swear. That delicious red apple ass of...I need a shower)
"Yeah I did."
"I did my undergrad at Purdue."
"Oh, how nice."
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand scene.

In other words, my afternoon was both hilarious and uplifting!

On an unrelated note, I need to give a shoutout to my friend Asim who may or may not begin reading this blog. Asim is my oldest friend (in time known, not total age). Asim just got engaged. Congrats buddy, I knew it was just a matter of time. But you're not getting out of our trip to get Russian brides that easily.

One step forward, two steps back

Well, this weekend I went out on a second date with the woman from last weekend. It was nice, we went to a local winery, tasted some, then went to lunch. At the end of the date she asked for a kiss, I kissed her VERY POORLY, but so it goes. Then this weekend she sends me an email telling me she's not looking for anything serious and I have to realize that. Well, I am looking for something serious, so that's off. Can't say I'm surprised, but I'm still sad. That was the best yet, and I'm becoming dissatisfied with the internet dating, but I have no clue how to go about dating without it. Part of me just wants to give up, part of me wants to keep trying.

So, blech. Just........blech.

Karma's a bitch

I didn't know karma could act that fast.

So, the mutual friend of my play-stalker and I had her birthday Tuesday. The play-stalker comes to me and says we should give mutual friend some grief. I'm amenable to the idea. She says, how about we get everyone we know to email the mutual friend with a happy birthday message, fill her inbox. I say ok, but shouldn't we take it a little farther? How about get everyone we know to email mutual friend with a sort of mean email. Basically the type of stuff only your mother can get away with. Play-stalker likes this idea. So I bulk email my lab (of over 20 people) to have them email mutual friend. And then I email old friends from Georgia that know mutual friend. I'm not sure how many came through, but I know some did. My own email was something along the lines of "so you're what...45? 50? And still in graduate school? At least you have a husband to support you...oh wait." And then on. So it was sort of mean, but not really. All in jest, all in good fun. All for the name of a prank.

Well, karma has come back around. That very afternoon I nearly rip the fingernail off my left middle finger. We have beer fridges in lab to hold supplies, the kind with the sliding glass doors. I had my hand on a door while I slid it open. My middle finger got caught and slipped under the overlapping door. Except the fingernail didn't. The first third of it went upwards. I had a latex glove on at the time. The glove started to fill with blood. I went to check it, and I found that the nail was still up. So I folded it back down, and the glove got caught. But I am thankful I had the glove on so that I couldn't see what the underside of my nail looks like. So that hurts still. Then today I was leaning down to look at a gel and smashed my head on the metal corner or a tabletop shaker. No blood, but it hurt. And then I smashed my thumb in a bathroom stall door.

I thought karma was supposed to wait until my next life, not hit within a few days. I think I need to make out a will.

*this is the sound a fett throwing up in a toilet makes*

I have a date tonight. First date. Lord help me.

Also, this is Little 500 weekend in Bloomington. It's a bike race with an attached weekend of debauchery, as any major event in a college town would be expected to have. Not the best weekend to go out for dinner.

I plan on spending the rest of the weekend watching movies and/or weeping like a beaten puppy.

*this is the sound a bicycle pump makes*

Go check out my new blog and help me inflate my sense of self-importance.

Top 5: An Addendum

This is a sister Top 5 to this previous Top 5.

Top 5 Frank Morey songs that make you feel good about being bad.

(this time, with lyrics!)

5. "You're My Jesus"

I've heard the words "salvation" "sin"
I know the rules and broken seven of ten
Put your hand in my hand, tell me I'm a decent man
You're my Jesus, I'm your Magdelene

4. "Standing on a Corner (A Love Song)"

I was standing on a corner with a dealer and a whore
And I was drunk as I could be
When the whore kicked the kid, she jumped to her feet
She says, "honey, what do you need?"
I pull a pint from my pocket, she gave it a pull
She says "a good Catholic whiskey keep you warmer than wool"
I said "hey, hallelujah, how how how."

3. "Made in USA"

Head bowed, body bent
Jesus love don't pay the rent
I'll pray, but I won't repent
Made in USA

2. "Let It Roll"

Well my hairs turning white, but it ain't falling out
And my teeth are turning yellow and black
Old Doc Jones says I'm gonna die of
Pancreatic cancer or a heart attack
He said "Frank confess, you've been messing with death,
This is dead, we're talking about."
I say "don't worry Doc,
I'm gonna hustle and puff my way out."
Let it roll, roll, roll, roll, roll, roll
Take the good times when they come
Put down the whiskey, cocaine and guns
And let the good times roll

1. "Goin' Down Kickin'"

Well the Lord won't take me
And the Devil can't bake me
DT's couldn't shake me
And my heart wouldn't break me
I'm going down kickin, I'm going down kickin
I'm going down kickin, I'm going down kickin
And I'm gonna to step on everybody on my way down
I'm gonna scratch out an eyeball, leave it in the lost and the found
I'm gonna bite off an earlobe, gonna spit it to the sky
And I'm gonna rage, rage, rage against the dying of light

I see that nose of yours

I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to.
- Othello

So, I've gotten back into movie watching. Not to the level I was in my hayday, but still, watching movies nonetheless. In my Pebbleman fashion, I have a habit of it. I watch the three movies from Netflix over the weekend, send them back in and get the next three by the next weekend. In the past couple of weekends I have seen some truly awesome movies, and as such, I'm going to share them.

A recent spate of awesome movies I have seen:

Othello

No, not O, but Othello from 1995. I remember wanting to see it when it came out way back when, but I'm kind of glad I didn't. I wouldn't have been able to appreciate it back then, I think. It would've been more like "I'm watching Shakespeare, aren't I awesome and mature." Which is of course, dumb.

Now, despite the fact that this is a Shakespeare film and it has Kenneth Branagh in a large role, it is not a Kenneth Branagh Shakespeare film (though perhaps unsurprisingly, a ton of the actors in this film made it into Branagh's Hamlet a year later). It was actually directed by Oliver Parker. Somewhat poorly I might add. He used a number of cinematic tricks that I would have to call juvenile. What he should've done is gotten out of the way of the true beauty of this film: the acting.

Now, I'm a fan of Laurence Fishburne, but I must admit that in his roles he sometimes can be hit or miss. Not here. He was on target the whole way. It was beautiful the way he played a Shakespearean character but filtered in Moor-ish habits in very subtle ways. He was the first black man to be cast in the lead in a film version of this play, but he downplayed the race. It wasn't a huge thing, which was beautiful. But it wasn't absent either. It was woven into the context. A slight gesture here. A little accent there. It was sprinkled into the character, not over the top, but not missing. It was perfectly played into the overall character. It was genius! He didn't let the race get in the way of actual points of the character, which is just how the part was written. I am in awe.

The acting in the film was almost uniformly amazing. Irene Jacob as Desdemona was meh. Michael Maloney did a surprisingly poor job as Rodrigo considering how awesome he was as Laertes in Hamlet, but that might be more the fault of Shakespeare writing a fairly weak character. Other than that, everyone was awesome. This is a film to watch for the acting. I was astounded at how good it was.

Edward Scissorhands

Burton and Depp, need anything more be said? No, but I'm going to say it anyways.

I read this film described as a fairy tale. That really is the best way to describe it. But this ain't no Disney fairy tale. This is an old school Hans Christian Anderson/Brothers Grimm fairy tale. There ain't no happily ever after, it's a warning. It teaches a lesson.

This film is about, and I can't believe I'm going to use such a pretentious phrase, the duality of man. It's about humanities desire to create something beautiful and its seemingly inability to prevent itself from destroying it. Or, in a more general sense, mankind's ability to lavish dreams and wreak horrors at the same time. This is personified in Edward, a man that is capable of creating such lovely works of art, but is an accidental danger to himself and others. At first, people are entranced by his creations (the people being the denizens of a pastel NIGHTMARE of suburbia, honestly, I'd rather live in the creepy mansion than that neighborhood). But they quickly become disenchanted with Edward as they either fail to utilize him to their own demands or became afraid of his destructive nature. And therein lies one of the major messages in the film, the inability of people to either recognize or come to terms with their own duality. They accept the creativeness, but reject the destructiveness, not recognizing that they go hand in hand (or hand in scissor, haha, I'm so funny). Burton does a stunning job mixing the stark, gothic black and white nature of Edward (thereby boiling his person down into black and white, in essence making him...simplistic? No, wrong word. He becomes the symbol of the duality, black and white, yin and yang, creation and destruction) with the more colorful "real" people. Plus there is the secondary message, that of Edward being a gentle soul unable to find his place in a more cynical world (see the theft section and the ethics conversation).

Good fucking god, did I really just write that? Can you tell I've taken a film class or two? That's pretentious sounding as hell. But oh well, it's better than writing IT WAS AWESOME LAWL.

Secretary

It's hard to describe exactly how much I love this movie. It was amazing. Here is the plot synopsis from the imdb.

"Lee Holloway is a smart, quirky woman in her twenties who returns to her hometown in Florida after a brief stay in a mental hospital. In search of relief from herself and her oppressive childhood environment, she starts to date a nerdy friend from high school and takes a job as a secretary in a local law firm, soon developing an obsessive crush on her older boss, Mr. Grey. Through their increasingly bizarre relationship, Lee follows her deepest longings to the heights of masochism and finally to a place of self-affirmation."

This is a movie about needs and weaknesses. And it questions both. What is really weakness? Is the submissive in a sado-masochistic relationship weak? As the film shows, no. The submissive actually has a position of strength in that they allow themselves to be dominated. No, as the film shows, the truly weak person is the one that does not know themselves. And this is a message that plugs DIRECTLY into my personal philosophy. Temet nosce. Know thyself. This is seen in the relationship between Lee and Mr. Grey. Lee is a bit of a flibbertigibbet with a penchant for self mutilation (aka cutting). Eventually she enters into said sadomasochistic relationship with Mr. Grey, whereupon she gains an extraordinary level of self-confidence. I'll try not to spoil anything for those of you who will watch this movie, but the level or personal strength Lee gains after she realizes she enjoys the submissive lifestyle is astounding. She becomes a strong, self-willed person, even though she is a submissive. The real weakness is seen in Mr. Grey, a person unwilling to come to terms with his dominant nature. And there, between them, we see that how a person lives does not determine their weakness, but who they are.

The film is wonderfully non-judgmental. I'm going to quote a line from near the end of the film, it's one of the best things I've read/heard in some time.

"In one way or another I've always suffered. I didn't know why exactly. But I do know that I'm not so scared of suffering now. I feel more than I've ever felt and I've found someone to feel with. To play with. To love in a way that feels right for me. I hope he knows that I can see that he suffers too. And that I want to love him."

And the film also pulls back from the over-the-top SM stuff. There's no leather and whips and chains and all that business, which I imagine is just window dressing on the true nature of an SM relationship. The tonality is conveyed without the graphic images that would offend many people. It wouldn't offend me personally, I've dwelt on the dark side of the internet too long, but it's a subtlety in craft I have to admire. It gets the feeling across without being cliche.

Yeah, back to the nonjudgmental-ness. I love it. As if there is a right way and wrong way to live life. If you can find someone to live you life with that makes you happy, and makes them happy, then the particulars of it don't matter to me. I shall close with the lyrics from a Ramsay Midwood song "Grass'll Grow" that have been running through my mind for weeks now. They are apt to this message, and a larger message in general, and I'm half tempted to get them tattooed on my body.

Well there ain't no straight line on God's green
Least none I've ever seen
Even the bullets wobble and spin
There ain't no latitude, just a trade wind

There appears to be some unintentional side effects

Here is a funny story for you. About a week or so ago I get an email from some guy in my department asking if I or another person in my lab would like to switch our days for going over grad student practice talks. It's a pseudo-volunteer thing, it allows me to be critical of other people. So I'm like, sure, I'll switch days with you. He's all great, contact the person doing the talk this Wednesday (today), Anna, and get her papers so I can read them beforehand. I do so.

So yesterday I'm bopping around match.com because I'm a masochistic fuckhead who doesn't know when to cut his losses and give up. I see my view counter has gone up, some someone has checked out my profile. I hit the "who's viewed me" button. Huh, someone new, let's see who they are. Someone in Bloomington, eh? Hmmm, graduate student....in microbiology. Their screen name? Anna(somerandomnumber).

Oh come on.

Ayup.

Funny old world.

As an addendum to the story, she canceled her practice talk, to which I replied "Too bad, I wanted to see if you were the Anna(somerandomnumber) that checked me out on match.com yesterday. Which, if you were, would be slightly awkward but mostly hilarious."

It was her. She ain't interested in me, if you're getting any ideas. She wants someone athletic, or more specifically a "hunk of man" to which I replied was more of a "lump". I merely tell this story as something funny that came out of this online dating...fiasco is the word, I think.

This just in

A big man once told me
Don't wreck your mental health
Feelin' sorry for yourself
I eat breakfast by myself
Like to think that I'm doing well
Honey, I'm all out and down
Can't keep it off my mind
Can't fix this heart of mine
Lord, I'm just wastin' my time
- Patrick Sweaney, "Wastin' Time"

Eureka!

Have you met Archimedes? The one with the black spots, you see? You remember Archimedes of Syracuse, eh? The king asks Archimedes to determine if a present he's received is actually solid gold. Unsolved problem at the time. It tortures the great Greek mathematician for weeks - insomnia haunts him and he twists and turns in his bed for nights on end. Finally, his equally exhausted wife - she's forced to share a bed with this genius - convinces him to take a bath to relax. While he's entering the tub, Archimedes notices the bath water rise. Displacement, a way to determine volume, and that's a way to determine density - weight over volume. And thus, Archimedes solves the problem. He screams "Eureka" and he is so overwhelmed he runs dripping naked through the streets to the king's palace to report his discovery.
- Pi

So, I figured out why the internet dating thing isn't working for me. I was working under a false assumption. I had assumed that I was a generally decent guy, that I had attributes many women would love, and the main reason my love life had been lackluster up to this point was due to timidness, from not trying, from not putting myself out there.

This, you see, was an error.

I forgot the basic principle of dating. Never get in a land war in Asia. No wait, wrong one. The most fundamental principle in dating is that one has to be attractive to the people you are trying to attract! I had forgotten how unattractive I am. How undesirable I am. Now it all makes sense.

I think this whole thing may have been a mistake. All it's really done is make me feel bad about myself. 90% of the people I contact never reply back. 9% reject me. And the 1% was ew. Plus it drives my obsessive nature absolutely nuts when I see someone I'm really interested in has gotten my message and doesn't reply back. I'm too crazy for this. Additionally, it's made my blog a really unpleasant thing to read. That's not cool.

Updates abound!

I had dinner with Very Nice Woman yesterday. Yeeeeaaaaah, thaaaaaaat's not gonna work. She sent me an email last night "blah blah blah I don't know why you're single blah blah you're awesome blah." And I had to be like "um, this isn't going to work, best of luck, buhbye."

Ok, so things were a lot more civil than that, but that's the gist of it. Oh well. My options are decreasing rapidly, but off we go, let's try the next.

It's finished! (sort of)

I've finally finished it! (kind of). I finished a draft of Pebbleman. After how many months? Let's not count them, shall we. But anyways, the last bit is written, finally got it all there. Now I just have to do, you know, the hard part. Make it good. Time to start editing it. And actually looking at it as a whole. This is the first story I've written out of sequence. There were good and bad points to that technique. One the one hand, you are writing stuff that you are basically inspired to write. You don't have to slog through one portion to get to the part you really want to write. On the other hand, it's harder to keep the whole of the story in mind, hard to see the overall arc when you are just doing it in essentially episodes. Plus, I constantly had to go back and check other parts to make sure they were internally consistent with each other, something that is not a problem when I write progressionally. On the other hand, doing bits and pieces allowed me to make some connections between different sections that probably would not have occurred otherwise (see the sneaking thing).

It's funny, one thing happened that I never would've predicted, the thing with Goffrey at Mrs. Fulmores house (I'm being purposefully vague to avoid spoiling things). It reminds me of something I learned in college. I read a story about a traveling salesman who meets up with some woman on a farm. I forget the specifics of it but the salesman ends up stealing the womans wooden leg or some other similar limb replacement. I don't even remember what the name of the story is (one of you literary types could probably tell me) but what I do remember is that the author said they didn't know the salesman was going to steal the leg until s/he wrote it. It was a complete surprise to them. That's what happened to me with the Goffrey thing. I was writing, then I wrote that bit, then went "wait a second, what did I just write?" I went back and read it, completely surprised, thinking "I didn't know he was going to do that." Then I thought about whether it was too cliche or not, but decided to stick with it. If it happened just like that, it must be ok. Times like that, I love writing.

Pebbleman, even at this rough stage, is the best thing I've written, but as I've stated before, that's not saying much. I do feel that the backstory parts I wrote in the first place are actually damn good. I'm proud of those. It's the rest of it that I'm worried about. But we'll see what I can do with the editing. See what goodness I can pull out of it.

I'll send out a couple of more invites for people to take a look. Those folks that expressed an interest or I missed in general before (i.e. suyapi, Noq, maybe my friend James). Everyone needs to remember this is just the first draft, lots of work yet to do. I've toyed with the idea of trying to publish it. Wouldn't know where to begin, but still, you never know.

Oh, and it should go without saying that if anyone steals anything from me I will track you down and kill you and I'm not even remotely joking. That would be beyond personal. I trust you guys. It's just, you know.

An update: An update

Well then.

Woman of My Dreams finally emails me back. To tell me my boldness has put her ill at ease and she cannot pursue this.

Well then.

Don't I feel like a shithead. A big ole shithead. While it certainly resolves the dichotomy of my previous quandary, it still sucks. Actually, what I feel worst about is that out there is a presumably very nice person that I made feel negatively. I don't like that. I feel very bad about that.

Oh well, another regret for the mantelpiece. At least, if this was going to end in regret, it's one from trying too hard rather than not trying at all. Still, I suck. Big time. Big ole asshole right here. Come see the big asshole. Five bucks.

I emailed her back, saying I was very sorry for any discomfort I caused and wished her the best of luck in the future.

Well then. I suck.

This just in

Dear Mr. Fantasy

When did my life get this complicated?: An Update

Ok, here is the situation as it stands. I joined eHarmony a couple weeks ago. I started a conversation with what seems to be a very nice woman, herein referred to as Very Nice Woman. Conversation progresses very slowly, but it progresses still.

Last week, I get bored and go check out Match.com on a lark. While browsing said website I come across the woman of my dreams, herein referred to as Woman of My Dreams. I proceed to spend the next couple days all moony-like, waiting for Woman of My Dreams to reply to my very bold and forward email. Woman of My Dreams finally responds to my email, stating basically what I thought, that she was very flattered by my email but also a little overwhelmed as well. However, she does not reject me outright, so there is hope. I send her an email back yesterday, chatting about what I do, trying to be funny, most likely looking like a crazy fucker and generally trying to hard. I have yet to hear back from her.

Yesterday I also get an email from Very Nice Woman telling me that she's dropping her sister off in Bloomington next weekend and would like to meet me. It is very obvious that Very Nice Woman is interested in me.

So now what do I do? Do I progress with Very Nice Woman while still waiting to see what happens with Woman of My Dreams? Do I tell Very Nice Woman about Woman of My Dreams, even though I already told her I'm a "one person at a time kind of person" which would make me look like a liar and a jerk? Scratch that, I wouldn't like like a liar and a jerk. I AM a liar and a jerk. Unsurprisingly, I spend most of my time thinking about Woman of My Dreams, but if that doesn't work out I'd hate to lose my chance at obviously-interested-in-me Very Nice Woman. Part of me thinks I could just keep things on the down low and see how they work out, but the larger part of me wants to tell everyone how it is because I hate...HATE...hiding things.

So, in a very short space of time my life went from being quiet and boring to sort of quiet and very complicated and confusing. On top of that, I spent all day Sunday in bed in a diabetic shock trying not to slip into a coma. So all in all, it's not been a pleasant weekend.

If there is any positive side to this, it's the fact that my love life should now be a potent source of entertainment to the readers of my blog who are A) married or B) abhor interpersonal relationships. So at least my misery should be fun for other people.

Cameron has never been in love

"Cameron has never been in love - at least, nobody's ever been in love with him. If things don't change for him, he's gonna marry the first girl he lays, and she's gonna treat him like shit, because she will have given him what he has built up in his mind as the end-all, be-all of human existence. She won't respect him, 'cause you can't respect somebody who kisses your ass. It just doesn't work."
- Ferris Bueller's Day Off

See that up there? Read that over again. Carefully. That's me. In a nutshell.

This whole dating business is madness, nonsense, missense, illsense and utter utter stupidity. I haven't even gone on a date and I'm already going crazy. I'm in conversation with one woman on eHarmony. One. There's another one I put on hold. I got curious today and looked around on Match.com. I found a woman so gorgeous, so wonderful I had to register and am currently awaiting profile approval so I can contact her. But what about this first woman? I told her I'm a one person at a time kind of guy. Now I'm a liar. Fuck me.

God fucking damnit, I swear this has to be more trouble than it's worth. GRAAAAAARG. That my friends, is the terrible call of the feeble. I'm going to go stab myself with fire. Why can't it be easy? Why can't I just fast forward to the part where I'm married and happily whipped? I wish I was Indian so my marriage could be arranged for me. That cultural idea has merit, I'm telling you.

And now for something completely different...

For Love of the Top 5

Top 5 questions missing from the eHarmony personality profile.

(Yes I created an eHarmony account. This may have been an error.)

5. Would you like a Herts Donut?

4. What is your standard salad dressing of choice in restaurants?

3. Describe in single words only the good things that come into your mind about your mother.

2. Are you a cat person or a dog person?

1. *mumblemumble*breastsize?*mumble*

Whenever I get gloomy

Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaking suspision love actually is all around.
- Love Actually

Ahem.

FUCK VALENTINES DAY

(this message brought to you by 29 years of bitterness)

Detritus, page two

1. My birthday has passed and I celebrated it in my preferred fashion, which is not at all. I barely acknowledge the day. I don't like birthdays, I don't celebrate them, they are not happy occasions. Plus, I'm 29 now, a scant year from 30. My pissiness will be increasing in direct proportion to my age. And the curve will be logarithmic.

2. My eldest sister continues to surprise the freaking hell out of me when it comes to gifts. I tell my family that if they so desire to purchase things for me (which they really shouldn't because I never buy things for them, but do they listen? No.) they can use my amazon wish list. I get a terrible kick watching people get things for me from the list. Not because it's something that I want (which I do), but because the gift usually reflects the person giving more than the person getting. My family goes through the list, find what THEY like, then get me that. I am amused by this.

Except my eldest sister. She defies this by getting me gifts that are A) awesome and B) totally not her. I mean, this woman is divorced with two children, works for a biomedical corporation (the business part, not the medical part). She's 11 years older than me, so you can place the musical generation she grew up in. The first gift she gets me since using my wish list? The Rough Guide to the Delta Blues CD (which is no less than 14 shades of awesome). Next gift? Deus Ex and the Fallout Trilogy (the latter which I still haven't played yet because XP doesn't support it, I just have to get the crap gaming rig James and I built up and running). This year? The Tick, Season One. These are not my sister. But they are awesome.

3. I have a stalker. A play one anyways. A friend of a friend of an acquaintence of a travesty of a mockery of sham of mockery of travesty of two mockeries of sham. Why do you realize there is not one homosexual on that jury? Yes there is. Really? Is it the big guy on the end?

Ahem. Sorry, got carried away.

Anyways, friend was in town and I was hanging out with her and her friend and friend of friend, etc. Friend of friend mentions that she once had a stalker. Creepy guy would come over to visit and any time she wasn't around he'd leave a pebble on her window. She'd come back and there'd be like 6-7 pebbles on the window. Creepy yeah. Anyways, I start giving this person shit, saying how I'd love a stalker, really a boost to the self esteem. She's like, no it isn't. We start talking crap and she agrees to stalk me in jest. So when I see this person the next few times I'm all like "where's my pebble?" and she's all "oh it's coming."

One day I come in to find an object left on my desk. But it wasn't a pebble. It was a tiny, little plastic baby. The baby is on all fours with its head on its arm. She finally got around to stalking me, which is hilarious....but damned if the leaving tiny plastic babies isn't CREEPY AS FUCK. So she totally trumped me. I was all like "come on, having a stalker isn't that bad," and she's like "oh really? Here, have some tiny plastic babies." And I'm all "ok, that is really fucking creepy."

And oddly, I'm proud of this. It's simultaneously creepy and damned funny. Now I have three plastic babies. Next time I saw her I was all "the plastic babies are creepy as fuck. You are AWESOME!"

4. Three days until my wisdom teeth come out. Er....hurray?

5. I'm turning into a professor. Save me.

6. I need to finish Pebbleman. I really really really need to finish Pebbleman. I really really really really really really really need to finish Pebbleman.

Really.

7. There is no 7.

8. There is only half an eig-

9. Ok, I'm only filling in numbers until I get to 10. But I can't just stop a list at 3 or 7 or something like that. List has got to be a multiple of 5. So let it be written, so let it be done.

10. My warlock will likely hit 63 tonight, and my paladin is 60 with his epic mount. When both of those characters hit 70 that will make 7 level 70 characters. At that point I believe one of two things will happen. Either the universe will implode or I will officially win WoW. I'm a little scared when that will happen because I'll have simply run out of things to do in that game.

This just in

I'm old.

I think it's brilliant!

I think it's brilliant! What an idea! And I was there! He took the idea! He saw it ripe on the tree, he plucked it, and he put it in his pocket. It's, it's, dare I say... genius? Ah, no, no! But maybe, ooh! ah! maybe it is! Maybe I'm in the presence of greatness, maybe I just don't know it. But I saw it...
- Roxanne

I had a stroke of genius last night. There's been a spate of strange commercials for Capital One, all about getting customized credit cards, down the picture that's one them. One of the commercials had the punchline of an evil genius getting his card with kittens on it. That's when I thought:

"I should get one of those with a lolcat on it"

I'm a genius.

-Credit Card Cat is watching you buy porn

-Do not want high interest rate

-I can has frequent flyer miles?

Possibilities abound!

It is said

Count de Monet: it is said the people are revolting
King Louis XVI: you said it! They stink on ice!
- History of the World: Part I

(it's been a long time since I did the topical movie quote to lead off a blog entry. Bite me, I'm lazy)

So it has finally happened. It's been a long time coming, but now war is being waged. After long years of neglect my body is now in open rebellion against me. It started quietly. The first whispers of dissension began 2 years ago when I was diagnosed with diabetes. But with the iron boot of exercise and medication I quelled those whispers. I should've learned from other dictators. You can stop the voices, but you cannot stop the war.

My wisdom teeth are now engaging in guerrilla warfare. The two on the left side have taken a piece of tissue from my jaw hostage and gnashing it to pieces. They are also cutting into my cheek. They lay quiescent for years, hurting only when they first came in, not bothering me since. Now they are literally trying to chew my face off from within.

So yeah, in lots of pain.

I ask around in lab and find a dentist people use. It's time for the wisdom teeth to come out. I haven't been keeping them for any particular reason, I just never found the opportunity to remove them. The opportunity has arisen. They need to be gone so I can stop with the being in pain. I call to make an appointment. The earliest they can take me is Feb. 11.

Fuck.

Alright, fine, I'll manage.

This morning I get a call from them. They've had a couple cancellations, can I come in this morning? Oh hell yes, let's get started on getting these bastards out of my head. So this morning I head to the dentist, get a cleaning and checkup and whatnot, get X-rays taken that eventually the oral surgeon will need. Get a referall to an oral surgeon, need to call them and make an appointment to get my jaw sawed off. So that's a fun morning.

What's in the afternoon you say?

How about a trip to the BMV! (Bureau of Motor Vehicles)

I've been putting off getting my new license for some time, aka 6 months. Why you ask? Cause in Indiana when you get a new license you have to retake the written test. You fucking kidding me? Ah shit, I haven't studied for a test in 4 years or so. But my insurance company currently has a bounty on me because I've been dragging my feet on this thing. They finally got ahold of my cell phone number, so they can bug me directly. Time to get this done. So I study up and head to the BMV and take the fucking test. I pass. And I laugh hysterically at the test. There are a couple tough questions, but the majority of them are so stupidly easy only a braindead moron would miss them. Then I laugh harder when I hear some 16 year old kid failed his.

While I'm there, I also register to vote, transfer the title on my car to myself, and register the car with the state. Paperwork out the ass. Plus it cost over a hundred bucks, on top of the seventy for the dental exam.

So morning at the dentist, afternoon at the BMV. I think this evening I'll get a rectal exam and call it a day.

Science is small, the Internet is scary, life is cruel

I found her. I've been searching for this mystery woman for almost 6 months. Today I found her. There I was, at seminar, trying to not fall asleep for about 45 minutes. It has less to do with a boring topic and more to do with a comfortable seat, my warm coat and a drop in blood sugar. The guy finally gets to the thank-yous and puts up a picture of his lab members, as is sometimes customary.

I snap to alert faster than I have ever done so in my life. I literally, LITERALLY, felt the sleep drain from my head, down my shoulders and my spine and dissipate in my belly. There she is, in the picture! Exactly as I remember her. I even remembered her first name correctly. I am stunned. I am shocked. I am excited and scared. I've been looking for her for some time, always keeping my eyes peeled when I walked to the gym and back. Now I have more than a lead, I've got the freaking path to her door.

Science is a very small world.

I get back from the seminar and immediately look her up at the departmental website. Yup, there she is, listed as a lab manager for the guy that gave the seminar. It even has her email address! Okay....okay...okay................okay. I'll email her. I'll introduce myself, ask if she really is who I remember she to be. I am going to be daring. I am going to be adventurous. I am going to be completely not myself. I will, in fact, be a better me.

But wait a moment. Her email address isn't quite jiving with her name. Indiana University is boring in assigning email addresses. They won't let you get creative. It's always some combination of your first and last name. But her first and last name aren't matching the email address. Ok, what do I do now? What anyone would do. Google the name. I google it, I get a hit. Purdue Swing Dance club. Well hell, that right there confirms that she is the woman I remember from my undergrad days at Purdue. I read around the page. Club was founded in 2000 (my junior year) by these people. There's her first name and with a last name that matches the content of the email address. And there's the other last name....with a guys name in front of it.

Ah.

The Internet is truly scary in what you can find out about other people.

What is this I'm feeling? Oh, I remember you. It's been a while, but I do remember you. I won't call you a friend, but I will call you my companion, Crushing Loneliness. Unbeknown to me, somewhere in the back of my mind I had been constructing fantasies about this woman. I remember thinking she was cute back in my undergrad days, and she was shy, like me. To be reunited all these years later, by seeming chance. It was fate. It was kismet.

It was a lie, of course.

As if I didn't know what was going on in the back of my mind. I knew exactly what I was doing. But I won't forgive my romantic nature. It seemed all so...beautiful, even in a fantasy. But even in the fantasy, the fall is hard, and it hurts when you bounce. It doesn't help that I think I completely weirded out this woman in my lab that I found attractive (though in an innocent way). I guess it's just been a rough week in that area.

Life is cruel.

To those of you that have found someone. Some know how lucky you are. Some do not. Count your blessings like they were unhatched eggs. Number them on your fingers and toes, on the breathes you take, on the hairs on their head. Yours is the world. Hold it and count it. Then count it again. And again. And again and again until the number of the world sinks into your imagination. And the number is infinity.