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| 08:44am 27/06/2006 |
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Julie and I broke up this weekend. Actually, she broke up with me. I've spent the last three days trying to make her as angry as possible, since she's never broken up with anyone before. I figure it would be easier for her to get over it if she was super angry about it instead of depressed and mopey about it. It was really hard to do, too, and I don't know if it worked. I wanted to make her angry, but nothing else, so I had to be careful with how I said things, and I had to throw in some petty stupid things, too. I'm sure she added a lot more emotions to what I said then were really there, too, which probably helped the cause. Granted, of the statements I said that weren't worded as opinions, I spoke only what I knew or thought to be true. I have troubles lying to people under any circumstance.
It's definitely for the best. She is too immature and emotionally unstable to handle this kind of a relationship. She only deals in absolutes, and she almost universally refuses to try anything unfamiliar to her, which I hope she'll get over soon. Unfortunately, she's still in the teenager stage where they think they know everything about everything. After I got over her on the first day, it actually became amusing to watch her expound on how her infinite dating experience showed that she knew how to deal with problems in relationships, and how she knew what kind would work out and what kind wouldn't. Again, hopefully that'll be another stage that passes, and she'll realize like most people do that no one realy knows much about anything at all. |
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| The bonds of humanity |
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| 08:29pm 14/06/2006 |
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Monday morning I received a call from my mother. I didn't answer, I was at a seminar. During the coffee break I went outside to listen to the message. Usually my mother doesn't call during the day. In truth, I hadn't even looked at my phone to see who it was from. The message said that my cousins two year old daughter had just died. She had just shown her mother how well she could ride her bike with just one hand. I couldn't ride a bike until I was at least 7. Her mother went in to get ready for work. Her father, brother and sister were sitting nearby watching television. When her mother got out of the shower, she said to her father "where is she?" She had just been there a moment before. They went looking for her, and found her floating in the pool. She knew she wasn't supposed to go into the pool by herself. she had undone the latch to the gate. As to what happened next, no one really knows. She loved the outdoors and swimming... maybe she thought that riding a bicycle one handed meant she was a big girl, and she could do big girl things like swim on her own. It only took a moment for everything to go wrong.
The wake was today. Relatives and friends came from all over the place to be there. Another cousin of mine (the mothers brother) flew with his entire family from Texas. They're staying until Tuesday, or for as long as they are needed. We have a big family, they have a big family, too. My father and my uncle are related by blood, but they were both adopted into different families. My father found him when he was in his teens to twenties, because he was an only child in his adopted family. He had a lot of brothers and sisters, some we still don't even know. My aunt has a sizeable family herself, and so does my cousin in law. Friends poored in from everywhere, most still wearing their scrubs (we have a lot of nurses in our family). It all started out quiet and somber, a lot of tears were shed. Eventually the veil of sadness began to lift, and people started talking about more joyous things. Maybe I just thought they were because that's what I talked to them about, since I can't even form a coherent thought on the reason of the joining. There were lots of hugs. Their side of the family has a lot of men's men, but even they were hugging each other. It wasn't a time for arrogance, showboating, or homophobia. They are nascar fans, and they were hugging.
There were photographs everywhere. I couldn't look at them. I had to look at everything but them, which meant I spent a lot of time searching for blank walls. It took me an hour and a half to walk up to the cask. My family during my lifetime has had a habit of passing away in the winter. I have seen a lot of urns. I had not seen an open cask funeral before. A lot of people had gone outside when I went to see her. She was made up. She looked like a doll. She was wearing pink lipstick, and her blonde hair was in pig tails. She was wearing a red corderoy dress. At first I sight I didn't cry, some part of me told me it couldn't be real. No, this couldn't happen, I couldn't be seeing this. This was a doll made to look like her. Then I looked 4 inches up to see 4 carebears with her in the cask. Those were dolls. She was real, the dolls sitting with her, those were not. They were her gentle guardians. They were the ones who would guide her to wear she will be. They will sleep with her until she gets there. No one who had seen her in life will be there to greet her, so the task is laid at the feet of the care bears.
The guest book had been filled. So many had been touched by such a short life. I hadn't been following the news. I knew before many, but many more knew before the day was done. All the channels had covered it. The paper covered it. It reached Portland, so it's safe to say that everyone with a working television in the state knows about it. I wonder what they were thinking. As they sat in their living rooms and kitchens, they probably thought of it as a tragedy. Some may have imagined how horrible it would have been for it to happen in their family. Most probably sent their silent well wishes to my cousin and her husband and children, and even though we couldn't hear them, they were well received. |
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| This owns. |
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| 04:34pm 18/05/2006 |
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mood:  ecstatic
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So, this week I was accepted into the PhD program for Mechanical Engineering. This is exciting news in and of itself, but more so, I also received the SSEI IGERT fellowship, which pays 30k a year plus tuition for two years. I'm going to be in good shape for a while. |
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| The adventures of Crazy Dave. Warning, this time it's rather disgusting. |
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| 03:30pm 02/05/2006 |
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Just the other day I received a phone call from Crazy Dave detailing his most recent exploits. It is important to note that Crazy Dave is on hot or not, and that he has slept with many of the girls he has met from said site. This should not be considered a good thing. Actually, forget it, this story is too horrible and wrong to post to a public forum. If you want to know the sordid details, e-mail me or message me by whatever means you know. |
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| Graduates need funding. |
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| 03:07pm 05/04/2006 |
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mood: busy music: Ben Folds "Bitches Ain't Shit"
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Graduates need funding, how else will we be able to afford Ramen? That stuff is like, 33 cents a meal. That's a lot, you know. I'm currently applying for two fellowships, both of which pay $30,000 a year, plus tuition. That is awesome. I didn't make that much when I was working in the "real" world. With that and an apartment that's only $337.50 a month including everything by electricity, phone, cable, and internet, life next year should allow me to pay down my undergrad loans.
I'm also going out with this wicked cute girl named Julie. Her hair is almost as tall as she is, probably about 60% there. I'd say it has to be over three feet long. She seems to like the fact that I'm an asshole, which is a good thing, because I'm starting to forget what it was like not to be one. Besides, in graduate school and later as a professor, being one puts me at a tremendous advantage.
Lastly, I saw Ben Folds on Monday. He was substantially better than when I saw him in Worcester a few years ago. He was a silly, arrogant asshole, and that made it good. He called Maine and the rest of the frigid North "Birth-Control Country," which is where people like his music more because no one in their right mind would ever have sex to it. |
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| On responsibility and humanism |
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| 04:50pm 10/03/2006 |
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mood: determined music: Heavy Metal - Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah
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Here are some facts about responsibility:
1. Being considered "responsible" requires the fulfillment of many, many actions.
2. These actions include responsibilities taken, responsibilities assigned, the responsibilities that come from living in a society, and the reonsibility of taking care of yourself.
3. Failure to complete any of these actions won't make you irresponsibile, as long as you are honestly giving your best effort.
4. However, being called responsible requires that you first complete enough of these tasks. If you do not, you are not responsible.
5. Failing enough responsibilities, especially the ones you take on yourself, will result in you being considered irresponsible.
Life isn't a hand-out. There are people who will help those that won't help themselves, but it's conditional. The conditions of our continued assistance is that the people we help need to learn to help themselves. We can only help you up, we can't walk for you, carry you, or live for you. We cannot rebuild you, we do not have the technology, we cannot make you stronger. Only you can do those things. If we did it for you, you'd never amount to anything. You would be completely dependent on others, and that makes you useless.
Meanwhile, if we don't think you plan to help yourself, we have to distance ourselves from you. You are emotionally dangerous to us. You will pull us down, because one person cannot live for two. You likely don't know how sad you make us, when we watch you return to the same self-destructive habits that brought you to where you are. You think you are better, but all you have become is more arrogant. We distance ourselves further, because watching the fall hurts almost as much as falling itself. We set you up to fail because we tried to help someone who won't help themselves. What was probably a gradual fall originally becomes a must faster fall from higher up. Ultimately you have to decide to recover, but we lost faith in you. We wanted to have faith. We wanted to believe in everyone.
We are humanists, like Mark Twain and Kurt Vonnegut. We believe in our perception of good for it's own sake, and we will continue to punish ourselves like this for most of our lives. We will try to help people up, hoping that they will become strong enough to stand on their own, hoping that they will help others up. When we become too old and feeble to lift others from the wreckage that they have brought on themselves, we will ultimately give up on humanity. Such is the fate of humanists.
Be responsible. We want you to be saved, but you have to want to save yourself, and that is your responsibility to us. Your salvation is the salvation of our beliefs. All of our successes fuels us one hundredfold. But don't tell us not to worry, don't tell us you'll be fine, because we've lost faith in you; we don't believe in you anymore. |
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| Everything is the Blanket |
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| 07:50pm 05/02/2006 |
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I forgot the way this feels. I think it is symptomatic of getting all the exercise I need, or maybe it's because my course work involves math, so I feel less stressed. May be I'm just happy that I could be getting funding to research solar panels in the fall. In any case, I feel excited.
I actually feel like I'm in love with everything right now. It's so overwhelming, because I only know one way to express it, and I don't have anyone to express it to at the moment, so it just keeps building up. It is actually making me feel kind of dizzy. |
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| Das Good? NO! |
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| 11:06am 03/09/2005 |
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mood: indescribable music: The Books, Vogt Dig for Kloppervok
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Two days ago I was greatly disappointed. Disappointment in this area is easy to come by, because my hopes are so astronomically high. That's right, I had another doctors appointment, and instead of ordering me to walk in a Dr. Frankenstein sort of way, he instead told me to meh, take it easy, only apply partial weight, and go to physical therapy.
The day before I managed to negotiate temporary housing in Estabrooke, which will probably become permanent housing in another room of the same dorm. I was really looking forward to coming home Thursday, packing up my car, and moving in all by my onesy. That didn't exactly happen, but I live in my room now.
I definitely need to re-blue my hair before the first lab. If I can somehow trick the little freshmen into thinking I was one of them, I could spread vicious rumors about myself. I could tell them "Gee, I heard this guy was a real hard-ass, and that he grades on a reverse curve," and "Whatever you do, don't be late, he'll eject you from the lab for being only one minute over, and you'll have to come back to take the class next year." I remember how nervous the students were last fall when they got into the lab. I was nervous, too, but this year I have experience, and I'm completely full of myself!
Yesterday I apparently went crazy, because I definitely ordered tickets to go to 3 concerts in Boston. That makes 4 concerts tha I will be attending this fall, which comes out to be 40% of the concerts I have ever attended. Kendra and I are going to see The Stills and The Sloan at the end of September, Ally and I are going to see Architecture in Helsinki in October. Less than a week later, Ally, Sam, and I are going to see the Decemberists, and lastly Ally and I are going to see HIM in November. Freaky.
I Heart Architecture. |
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| Sushi and Drunken Pirates |
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| 12:59am 19/08/2005 |
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mood:  tired
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Arrrrgh matey! What happens when I drink? The answer to that question has changed over the years, or perhaps it changes based on whether or not I'm drinking with Dave. Long ago I was a silly drunk. I would do things like preach the blessings of booze as a southern baptist televangelist. I would sing of the llama man, and his glorious rise to power through hard work and doing what is right for a llama.
Things changed on Dave's 21st birthday. Everytime I've been drunk since then (until last night) was with Dave. Dave is absolutely insane, and far worse when he is drunk. I became the responsible drunk, dare I say, the sober drunk. I would never control Dave's drinking, I would merely ensure his safe return to the homestead. It was always the same. Dave and I would drink, Dave would act normal, and then suddenly Dave would sink into a region of insanity best described by Beavis and Butthead.
Last night I was once again a silly drunk. I giggled, I said amusing things, I acted like a pirate while drinking Jamaican rum, it was great.
Maybe the difference was that I felt like I was in a safe place. I was surrounded by people who I trust and care for, even though we've only known each other a short time. I've never had friends that made me feel so at home. I've never really been around a group of people and felt not alone, either. I've always felt seperated, but now I don't. I wish I knew how to express what I feel outside of an implied context written in a public forum such as this. Until then, allow the sushi to rain from the heavens. |
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| Yay for writing comics, boo for hewlett packard and all they control. |
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| 12:07am 12/08/2005 |
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mood: tired music: Architecture in Helsinki, "Souvenirs"
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Matt and I made some more headway on the comic tonight. We have what is shaping up to be a solid starting story line demonstrating our arrogance, anti-social behavior, and our complete and utter dominance over all that is dorky. For instance, how many of you remember the album "Shaq Diesel" by the one and only Shaquille O'Neil? In only a couple years, it will actually be older than some of my students, and it remains to this day to be one of the travesties of our time. The media was quick to disavow any knowledge of it's existance, just as hollywood made the claim that the movie "Shazaam!" was actually created by radical alien worshipping cultists who kidnapped Stephen Speilberg and held him hostage for no less than three months.
On the negative side, it turns out the hard drive on my new computer is no good, and I'm going to have to deal with tech support and back up all my files tomorrow. Isn't that swell? I think it is. I think we should practice gross ethical malfeasance and make sure every hard drive that comes in new computers is broken, that way American tech support can make a comeback! I also think there is a national mandate for tin foil hats, I mean, have you seen what they wear on the Florida panhandle? |
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| No, It's Improbable. |
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| 09:43pm 08/08/2005 |
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mood:  thoughtful music: The Decemberists, Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect
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This afternoon on into the evening was spent with an absolutely wonderful girl. It has been the first date I've gone on in a long time where I didn't feel like I was compromising anything to be there. I don't even know what to say about it. I have an uncanny capacity for doing something really dumb to screw up things like this, but they don't usually get to this point. By that I mean I usually have already done something incredibly moronic. It almost feels like I have a crush on her, but the primary characteristics of a crush involve assigning "perfect" qualities to a person that they don't have. I can't think of a single thing about her that I haven't witnessed or received word of from her.
The thing is, even if I did do or say something stupid, I have a feeling that it wouldn't change anything. |
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| 9 reasons why Dave should not have a license |
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| 04:48pm 07/08/2005 |
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mood:  quixotic music: LCD Soundsystem, yeah (pretensious version)
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Many of you have met Dave. Others have heard rumors of Dave's existence, held in great skepticism. In both cases, the fact is that Dave is insane.
Here is a collection of quick stories that show exactly why Dave shouldn't be on the road. Ever.
1. I met Dave during my sophomore year in kung-fu. Dave joined my fraternity, and became one of my little brothers. I gave Dave a ride home for winter break. During the car trip, a middle aged woman driving a mini-van cut us off and began driving 15 miles per hour under the speed limit at a time when we had to follow her. This infuriates Dave beyond all comprehension. The Dialogue and events proceeded as such:
Dave: "FUCK YOU MOTHER FUCKER!" Dave starts honking my van's horn (I'm driving). "Matt, bump her! Hit her!"
Me" "I am not going to bump her, Dave."
Dave: "Get out of the fucking way you retard!" Dave continues honking the horn.
After we change interstates:
Dave: "Matt, Pass her, pass her now!" I pass her, Dave leans out of my van's window at 85 mph. His entire upper torso is in front of her windshield as he begins flipping her off. "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!"
2. Dave has, on more than one occassion, followed someone who has cut him off home (sometimes a journey of over an hour) in order to do doughnuts on their lawn.
3. In his first car, Dave bumped a car up to 110 mph on the interstate, then turned off on the next available ramp right as a car was merging, causing their two cars plus another bystander to jackknife across the interstate, all while flipping them off from the safety of not being them.
4. In his free time, Dave invented "the Dave lane," a region of space found between two cars on a two line highway where Dave can scare the hell out of people.
5. Dave has bought German schizzer (I can't spell it) porn out of the back of a strange man's van between Amherst and Worcester. This occurred while Dave and Ari were on a treasure hunt for American flags, shortly after 9/11. It's not that the porn or flags impede his driving, it's that he has to drive to get either. The porn was viewed over 100 times over the course of the next month, so much so that it was no longer a functional tape, and they would have it playing while they slept. If you have questions as to why the flags were tasteless and wrong, message me and I'll redefine "treasure hunt" for you.
6. One day, Dave was going 85 mph on the interstate in Mass. A cop flashed his lights, Dave pulled over, and the cop sped past. Dave, being challenged in the common sense department, begins to tailgate the officer going over 100 mph. After a few miles of this, the cop gets behind Dave and signals him to pull over. Without even writing anything down, he runs up to Dave's window, screaming "what the fuck is wrong with you?" to which Dave replied "I don't know, I guess I just felt like being an asshole." After delivering a verbal tirade on Dave, the state trooper lets him off with a warning.
7. After being forced to wait for an astonishing 20 seconds at a construction site in Indiana, Dave rolls down his window and starts begging for a citation. It sounded something like this "What the fuck, get out of my way!" To which the officer replied "Oh yeah, tough guy, are you so tough you need a ticket to shut you up?" The officer then continued to let cars from other directions go. Dave then started revving his engine, occassionally engaging enough to scoot forward a couple feet. This exchange continued for about 10 minutes before the officer moved out of his way.
8. Again in Indiana, Dave saw a checkpoint late at night while his was driving under the influence. Instead of looking for another road, Dave decided to try to go around. Through a field. Through the field, crossing the road was a set of railroad tracks, the kind that have big ditches on either side. Dave made it up one side, and slid sideways down the other. He was now stuck in his new Scion sports car between the railroad tracks and a ditch. Through the grace of some obviously touched higher power, Dave managed to free his car from the trap in about 30 minutes time.
9. Two or Three weeks ago, Dave calls me from his cell phone while driving 110 mph traveling from Purdue to where his girlfriend lives. This is not even remotely suprising, however, it was suprising to find out that he was doing these two things while on high grade narcottics that his girlfriend's mother gave to him. Approximately two thirds of the call was spent either giggling from the drugs or swearing at other drivers who were making him slow down to, get this, 90 mph. The speed limit there is 70, in case anyone was wondering.
There you have it, folks. It is without a shadow of a doubt that Dave should not have a license, but if that were to happen, I would lose a nice steady stream of new, crazy stories. |
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| Strength in Adversity. I hope. |
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| 12:48am 06/08/2005 |
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I am clearly made out of some fairly sturdy stuff. I say that because I spent last night crutching around the fair for around four hours. I was expecting to be completely week and exhuasted today, but in fact, I was not. I ate a turkey leg the size of a club. In doing so, I pissed off an annoying poser girl. It was delicious. I also managed to go on a few rides, including the bumper cars.
Why was I crutching around the fair? Because, I vowed I would go to the fair whether or not my doctor told me I could start walking, and the end results of the exhange with said doctor resulted in my agonizing disappointment. It's getting harder to keep my spirits up through this, since my next appointment will not be for 4 weeks.
To add to the problem, my apartment fell through. My roommates parents convinced her to pull out, even though it wasn't going to be tough finding more roommates to fill the empty rooms. I found another one, but she'll need to see it in time so it doesn't get taken. It's only three bedrooms, and that's how many people we have. Plus, it is less expensive, another advantage.... They might be living on campus, though, and I would be pretty much out of luck.
If I was a weaker person, I would think my world was falling apart. It could just all be coming together. Here's to the interconnectedness of all things. |
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| Reconnecting with the past |
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| 12:55am 04/08/2005 |
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Approximately three years, eight months ago I was a total raging asshole, the magnitude of which could easily be measured in kilo-fonzies. That was the day when I turned my back on a friend who was having a hard enough time in her life just because she mentioned having something of a crush on me. Okay, so she wasn't exactly stable, and she had stalked my best friend and his sister, but that was no reason to act the way I did.
I came to this realization months ago, but I didn't act upon it because I had no idea how to reach her. By that, I mean I had no idea how to use the white pages on the internet. At least, that is how it seems now when I took the time to find her number in it today.
It was like nothing had ever happened. We used to spend hours talking in parks at night, or driving ridiculous distances for far more ridiculous reasons. It was exactly like that. I called, I apologized, we got together no more than 30 minutes later, and our conversation could have easily been the last one we had (prior to me being a raging hard-on, that is). We were different, but nothing had changed.
I found her forgiveness astonishing. This wasn't the first time I was forgiven without question. Some days it seems like the entire world has a bad memory except for mine. Lucky me. |
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| From the ashes |
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| 07:31pm 02/08/2005 |
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I know most of you haven't heard from me in... oh... say... years? Yes, that is the best measurement of time. In the meantime, I have undergone massive changes across the board. For instance, old Matt was a centrist Republican (insert cringing here). New Matt is an anti-war envirohippie socialist. Old Matt was in the Navy on the track to becoming a pilot. New Matt is a graduate assistant at the University of Maine.
In the meantime I've gained a flair for storytelling, and do I ever have stories to tell. Most of my stories will be incorporated into a webcomic that Matt (it's not just my name, it also happens to be the name of my best friend) and I are in the process of writing, sketching, inking, and posting. Most of you aren't familiar with my capacity for art, but I assure you, I cannot. Stick figures look decrepit and brutalized under my unwavering pen. Matt, on the other hand, can draw quite well, but he doesn't tend to attract the insanity and horror that I have managed to bring upon myself, much to the entertainment of the masses.
Currently I've spent nearly two months laid up with my ankle broken. I managed to fracture it in three places, cause cartilage damage, and dislocation. I now have a metal plate and three screws in my leg. The x-rays are pretty swell, the screws actually look like your average deck screws. The adventure behind the injury will be saved for another day. May you find amusement in my telling of the tragedy.
P.S. I'm aware it isn't actually tragedy. |
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| And Just When You Thought It Was Safe... |
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| 09:00am 28/02/2003 |
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mood: nostalgic
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A toaster explodes while reciting the late works of Mark Twain! I apologize for being a boring person who doesn't post much; it is just the way it goes. I can't really think of anything exciting that anyone would want to hear about, so I'll just display this quiz in place of a real entry:
ferris bueller's day off
which random 80's movie are you?
brought to you by Quizilla |
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| Huh Huh, that was cool. |
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| 02:21pm 18/11/2002 |
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Hi everybody! Yes, the network has been down. Everyone who has me on their list also has Jennifer, and she already told you that. I wish she was here now. I am bored, I have nothing to do, and no one else is here. I had a meeting with the navy people on Saturday. They talked about how we shouldn't act American in foreign countries. They also said that they often find themselves moving around a lot. It would be neat to be stationed in one place, though, but the chances of that seem slim.
In recap, I love Jennifer, network is back, and I might have to move a lot.
See you all later! |
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| SPOON! |
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| 11:58pm 15/09/2002 |
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mood: happy
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Hello once again! I had to check to make sure I didn't already tell everyone this, but I am now the proud owner of all 44 episodes of The Tick, that is 36 episodes of the cartoon, and 8 of the live series, until it was cancelled. It is just so great and stuff! I often find myself speaking in Tick-isms. One of my favorties is "Whoa, roof pig, most unexpected." Which was then followed by "What did you do, step in a pig?" One of the funniest parts of The Tick is that the people in "The City" are actually dumber than the Tick. Only the other superheroes and some of the supervillians are actually smart. The city scientist is completely mad. He tried to beat a massive ant invasion with a gigantic chocolate bar laced with nitroglycerine. Then there is Sanity, the head of the superhero mental institute, who is actually a head in a water cooler. He dresses up his assistant Taft in costumes, and has him wrestle the superheros as therapy. His costume list includes a little old lady and a banana.
Jennifer let me pick the movie this weekend, so we went to see Serving Sara, which was wicked funny. Even Jennifer liked it, although she didn't want to see it at first. That made me happy. Shes so cute and wonderful and stuff! I love her so much. She moved, so shes practically right across the hall from me now. I think its really keen.
My new buddy is Lawrence. He's a freshmen here, and he works out with me. I set him up with one of my friends, and it might work out, if he ever gets some confidence. Thats about it. See everyone later. |
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