Just had a preliminary phone interview for an awesome opportunity with my company in Virginia!
Next step is a flyout to the campus for an official interview.
I think I can I think I can I think I can...
Screw that.
I KNOW I will.
(oh, and if I'm using you for a reference, please don't say anything truthful about me. make up all the good shit that you can...)
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
suicide
it's the "cide" that makes the word so furious, harsh.
"sui" is misleading, soft.
like the word "why" when whispered in question form.
the act of killing oneself. is it implied that suicide only kills one person.
that implication is wrong.
while the people at your funeral today will be alive, breathing air - a part of them has died. and just like you, that part can't be brought back.
dave szalay
1968-2006
may your soul be at peace
"sui" is misleading, soft.
like the word "why" when whispered in question form.
the act of killing oneself. is it implied that suicide only kills one person.
that implication is wrong.
while the people at your funeral today will be alive, breathing air - a part of them has died. and just like you, that part can't be brought back.
1968-2006
may your soul be at peace
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
possibilities pop like ripe berries
and just like that the world opens.
without warning.
it's as if i'm a damn disney character - thinking it's a whole new world.
keep your fingers crossed for me!
more news to follow...
without warning.
it's as if i'm a damn disney character - thinking it's a whole new world.
keep your fingers crossed for me!
more news to follow...
Sunday, July 16, 2006
and this my friends, is the reason for the war on "terror"
"If all American vehicles were compelled to comply with European efficiency standards, America would not have to rely on Saudi oil." - The Observer
remember this as you fill up your SUV's with the "Support Our Troops" ribbons...
remember this as you fill up your SUV's with the "Support Our Troops" ribbons...
Friday, July 14, 2006
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Freak Fest
Freak:
1. A thing or occurrence that is markedly unusual or irregular: A freak of nature produced the midsummer snow.
2. An abnormally formed organism, especially a person or animal regarded as a curiosity or monstrosity.
Fest:
1. A gathering or occasion characterized by a specified activity. Often used in combination: a music fest; a chilifest.
Both of these definitions failed to prepare me for this year's Ozzfest. I willingly volunteered to work the university booth - hadn't been to Ozzfest since it truly was a concert featuring Ozzy. My thought - Ozzy is the cake - the rest of the bands are just yummy, satanic frosting.
Since Ozzy doesn't do his namesake fest anymore, I figured I'd go work the event to people watch and hear some bands that I didn't know. Perhaps I'd find some new music and get reacquainted with my semi-dormant freakself.
The epiphany that I was no longer one of the freaks came the second I stepped out of my car in the parking lot.
warning, graphic exposure to disgusting language and stupid people ensues
"Fissssssstttttttttffffffuuuuuucccccckkkk!"
The word roared through the speakers. The bass voice, probably destroyed from barking filthy lyrics into his hairbrush as he danced in front of the mirror in his youth, was inhuman. "Chant it, bitches! Fist - F*ck! Fist - F*ck!" The microphone quivered.
The mindless automatons in the audience follow his fistf*ck cry as he talks about your mom, your dad, your friends, how you should do it in the car.
"Who wants to Fistf*ck?!" Again discharging the snarling, scream-bark through the reverberating speakers.
1, 2, 3 - Not It!
In that instant, I knew. I knew I would no longer classify myself as a freak. I knew that given the choice between Republicans and Fistf*ckers, I'd choose Republicans. I knew my freakdays were over. Might as well pack up the collar and riding crop and sell them at my next garage sale or put them in the pink bag for bi-yearly collection by the Vietnam Vets.
Knowing that I was no longer one of them, I still chose to go inside and work the booth. Situated between the bong shop with the blanket backdrop of the black-haired, buxom bong-toting babe and the game "Kick me in the F*cking Head Bitch," our booth still managed to attract some semi-strange spooks wanting to play "Guitar Hero" on the X-Box.
The world traveled by to the score of disjointed, talentless music with lyrics that would make a retro punkrocker blush. It was a sea of mullets, Mohawks, Mull-hawks, skunk-do's, and various fuzz-heads as fried as their hair. There were Twisted Bitch t-shirts, "Enjoy Refreshing Vagina" shirts, and clothing that expressed every-which-way-to-iterate-fuck possible. Weed wreaths, mary-jane flavored candy. Asses, boobs, painted skin, tattooed and pierced everythings - the standard.
These were not the things that bothered me.
It was the kids.
The 11 year olds decked out like a walking advertisement for weed. 5 year olds in beer tees. Kids wearing Jack Daniels label shirts. The 7 or 8 year old boy with the Trojan Condom headwrap. The 10-12 year old girls showing what their growing. These little kids - who were with their parents - were being treated as adults - revered for their "adult" clothing. I don't care what kind of antisocial anomoly your think you are, a t-shirt with the word Fuck isn't appropriate for a young child.
I finally left the show midafternoon, in despair for our future. As I walked through the front gate, I'm sure I heard sure some 10 year old chanting "fistf*ck".
*changed to prevent people searching for the word from ending up at my website. i've already lost most of my faith in humanity - i don't need to fall into complete despair.
1. A thing or occurrence that is markedly unusual or irregular: A freak of nature produced the midsummer snow.
2. An abnormally formed organism, especially a person or animal regarded as a curiosity or monstrosity.
Fest:
1. A gathering or occasion characterized by a specified activity. Often used in combination: a music fest; a chilifest.
Both of these definitions failed to prepare me for this year's Ozzfest. I willingly volunteered to work the university booth - hadn't been to Ozzfest since it truly was a concert featuring Ozzy. My thought - Ozzy is the cake - the rest of the bands are just yummy, satanic frosting.
Since Ozzy doesn't do his namesake fest anymore, I figured I'd go work the event to people watch and hear some bands that I didn't know. Perhaps I'd find some new music and get reacquainted with my semi-dormant freakself.
The epiphany that I was no longer one of the freaks came the second I stepped out of my car in the parking lot.
warning, graphic exposure to disgusting language and stupid people ensues
"Fissssssstttttttttffffffuuuuuucccccckkkk!"
The word roared through the speakers. The bass voice, probably destroyed from barking filthy lyrics into his hairbrush as he danced in front of the mirror in his youth, was inhuman. "Chant it, bitches! Fist - F*ck! Fist - F*ck!" The microphone quivered.
The mindless automatons in the audience follow his fistf*ck cry as he talks about your mom, your dad, your friends, how you should do it in the car.
"Who wants to Fistf*ck?!" Again discharging the snarling, scream-bark through the reverberating speakers.
1, 2, 3 - Not It!
In that instant, I knew. I knew I would no longer classify myself as a freak. I knew that given the choice between Republicans and Fistf*ckers, I'd choose Republicans. I knew my freakdays were over. Might as well pack up the collar and riding crop and sell them at my next garage sale or put them in the pink bag for bi-yearly collection by the Vietnam Vets.
Knowing that I was no longer one of them, I still chose to go inside and work the booth. Situated between the bong shop with the blanket backdrop of the black-haired, buxom bong-toting babe and the game "Kick me in the F*cking Head Bitch," our booth still managed to attract some semi-strange spooks wanting to play "Guitar Hero" on the X-Box.
The world traveled by to the score of disjointed, talentless music with lyrics that would make a retro punkrocker blush. It was a sea of mullets, Mohawks, Mull-hawks, skunk-do's, and various fuzz-heads as fried as their hair. There were Twisted Bitch t-shirts, "Enjoy Refreshing Vagina" shirts, and clothing that expressed every-which-way-to-iterate-fuck possible. Weed wreaths, mary-jane flavored candy. Asses, boobs, painted skin, tattooed and pierced everythings - the standard.
These were not the things that bothered me.
It was the kids.
The 11 year olds decked out like a walking advertisement for weed. 5 year olds in beer tees. Kids wearing Jack Daniels label shirts. The 7 or 8 year old boy with the Trojan Condom headwrap. The 10-12 year old girls showing what their growing. These little kids - who were with their parents - were being treated as adults - revered for their "adult" clothing. I don't care what kind of antisocial anomoly your think you are, a t-shirt with the word Fuck isn't appropriate for a young child.
I finally left the show midafternoon, in despair for our future. As I walked through the front gate, I'm sure I heard sure some 10 year old chanting "fistf*ck".
*changed to prevent people searching for the word from ending up at my website. i've already lost most of my faith in humanity - i don't need to fall into complete despair.
Monday, July 10, 2006
I may be lame...
but HEM is not.
So what - I found this band because I liked the song on the Liberty Mutual commercial. Whatever. Ethereal voice, lullaby-like melody and just juicy wonderful.
Listen to them here.
(Music summary from sidebar:
Sufjan Stevens - Illinois
KT Tunstall - Eye to the Telescope
Sia - Colour the Small One
Train - For Me It's You
Ben Harper - Better Way
The Cardigans - Live & Learn )
So what - I found this band because I liked the song on the Liberty Mutual commercial. Whatever. Ethereal voice, lullaby-like melody and just juicy wonderful.
Listen to them here.
(Music summary from sidebar:
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
War is the answer...
if What is Hell is the question.
(the link contains some graphic, but necessary, imagery. i wonder if the people dropping the bombs see this...and i wonder if they care.)
(the link contains some graphic, but necessary, imagery. i wonder if the people dropping the bombs see this...and i wonder if they care.)
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
"A Las Vacas*," part 3
Day 10 (Monday, 5.6.06)
Walking tour - Notre Dame, rose garden, big cheese, oldest tree in Paris, side streets.
Took boat tour of monuments on the Seine.
*btw - "a las vacas" is what heather said one night when she tripped over saying"a las vacaciones." yes we were drunk. so, we kept toasting to the cows.
Walking tour - Notre Dame, rose garden, big cheese, oldest tree in Paris, side streets.
Took boat tour of monuments on the Seine.
*btw - "a las vacas" is what heather said one night when she tripped over saying"a las vacaciones." yes we were drunk. so, we kept toasting to the cows.
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