My weekend

Yet another autobiographical post. I guess that's what a lot of blogs are, but I feel like I should be doing more. Anyway, on to my weekend.

I traveled to Colorado to play handball this weekend with my parents in tow. My dad drove the entire way to Fort Collins and the entire way back, which was pretty amazing of him. It's not like I didn't offer to drive or anything, but the truck isn't my favorite vehicle, and some of the weather did get rather interesting. We left Thursday afternoon, stayed in Kearney, Nebraska where they were expecting 11-15 inches of snow the next day, and hoped for the best for the remainder of the trip. We woke up to no snow on the ground and nothing really evident, and made it almost the rest of the way without incident. A couple of hours from Fort Collins things got slippery and white, but we obviously prevailed. Along the way we stopped at a couple of outdoor gear places, where I had the pleasure of sitting and trying to scold my parents over their selections in clothing. The price was right on a bunch of stuff, though, and I think their receipt said they saved over $400 or something. Plus that weekend there was an additional 20% off purchases of $100 or more, compounding the good deals.

We made it to Fort Collins and drove straight to La Luz, a Mexican restaurant we were recommended for our first trip four years ago and have stopped at every time since (sometimes multiple times per visit). I got a fish and potato burrito, and my parents got fish tacos, all of which were delicious. We shopped around downtown until my mom was kicked out of a couple of different establishments (her enthusiasm borders on the maniacal occasionally), but we found some cool stuff during the process. There was a cooking store that had a variety of kitchen gadgets and whatnot where we bought cups and narrowly avoided acquiring the most colorful plates ever. Our criteria for cups is strict, and stems from the fact that we don't use a dishwasher, making it necessary for our hands to fit inside without too much pain. This is actually a more challenging criteria to meet than you might think. I don't know if our hands are unusually awkward or if cups just aren't designed conveniently any more, but it was good to find them either way. At one point my mother was so excited about the possibilities she bordered on giddiness, and when she drew a random lady's attention, I loudly said this is why we couldn't take her out in public, which drew a smile from the onlooker, but really, it was just fun to see her enjoying the cool stuff.

We wandered around for a while at a garden-y store, which was unexpectedly a more subdued experience. We found a book, but didn't buy anything. On our way back the car I remembered a cool jewelery store and we stopped in. The guy who came over to help us was pretty awesome. It was obvious he was incredibly enthusiastic about his profession, and it seemed he could talk forever. Some of the rings he had crafted were really interesting. They were multi-layered with folded metals which results in this:






















Needless to say, my mom was fascinated. Woodgrain sorts of things interest her, as, apparently, do opals, which he showed her next. I think she was almost to the point of buying something before she remembered she doesn't wear jewelery. If we ever go back, though, the guy said they took scrap metal as raw material and would accept some in trade for the labor, so there's the possibility of something working out eventually. Of course, with the one-year communication delay, it's possible things might get bogged down a bit.

From there we went to the club where the tournament was being held even though it was a bit early. That was a good thing, though, since I was able to enter another division and play a half hour after our arrival. So I was in the A division and the open division. I won A's, but lost in the first round of open, confirming my suspicion I am somewhere between the two. So I guess I just need to get a bit better. I was actually surprised with how many shots the open players hit that I felt weren't of amazing quality, but I guess the fact is that they are always on the run, and if they are ever allowed to set their feet and take the shot they want, the result is a point for them. So maybe the trick isn't developing the hard shots, but getting your opponent to hit you easy ones by keeping them off balance. It's a lot less fun, but probably more practical.

I won my A matches pretty easily. Highlights included my opponent calling a hinder when I passed him on the complete opposite side of the court when he hadn't yet returned a passing shot when he was on the correct side. This wasn't terrible on its own, but it was immediately followed by another very questionable call. The combination of the two made the score 8-6 in my favor. I went on to win 21-6. Interestingly, I lost my first game of A's, but got my head in the right place, got warmed up and in the rhythm of things, and wound up winning the next two 21-2, 11-0. The finals could have been closer, but my opponent started off a bit slow and never really got into things. There were some actual highlights in this one, including a between the legs shot I hit left-handed that just barely made it to the front wall and almost rolled out. It was fun to win, but now that I can't enter the A's any more, I'm in an awkward position if I travel to tournaments, since it's unlikely I'll get many matches in the open divisions.

My dad played in his first singles tournament, which was pretty good, but one of his two opponents didn't show up, so while that meant he was in the finals, it also meant he had paid his entry fee and driven quite a way for not a lot of playing. Luckily we found him another match for fun, and he made a fair account of himself in the finals, hitting some pretty good shots once he got going. All in all, the trip was a success. We spent some good quality time with friends during meals and between matches, enjoyed our shopping, and the travel went as smoothly as we could hope after hearing the forecast. The only real (or imagined) downside is that I still don't know who won the super bowl. I guess I'll go watch a highlight reel now.

Thanks for reading.

My last couple of days

So it turns out that if you aren't already familiar with my life's story, I'm a pretty impressive guy. I went on campus yesterday to talk to a professor about law school and writing me a letter of recommendation, and during our chat she mentioned she had read some of my writing in Sketch, remembered that I had missed class to go play in a big handball tournament (where I got a national title), and also remembered I came from an athletic family. We talked about what kind of law I was interested in, and I said either patent law or appellate law, since either of those seemed to involve a lot of writing, and while I don't think I'd be a bad orator, I'm certainly much more comfortable with paper. Then I mentioned I should also have a patent soon, and she was pretty surprised.

I gave her my transcript so she'd have a reference as to my coursework, and my 3.87 GPA came to light. I told her it was actually my LSAT score that was holding me back from being assured admission to a really good school, and that I wasn't used to only being in the 96th percentile. We talked about student debt and my unwillingness to accrue it if I wasn't guaranteed a well-paid job by the end, which also gave me an opening to brag about how I didn't have any debt from my undergrad degree due to being a national merit scholar. Let's just say by the end of our talk I'm pretty sure I had given her enough to write a good letter of recommendation.

I'm almost done with my application essay, too, which is what I worked on Monday instead of posting here. It will probably need a bit of revision, though. Monday also happened to be my birthday, which was a bit torturous, since I spent almost the entire day inside looking out at the 60-degree weather. But I also got my diploma and my transcript ordered for law school applications, so I suppose it was a worthy sacrifice.

Yesterday wound up being almost as as warm, so I my parents and I got out for a bike ride. It was pretty windy, but that just meant we got to ride back at 27 mph (topping out at just over 30). It was pretty quick, and gave me some time to laze around before handball. We've been practicing on glass walls recently to prepare for the tournament in Colorado this weekend, which I'm excited for as usual.

Also, I'm feeling almost entirely recovered from whatever illness I had. I'm sure I speak for everyone who's been around me recently when I say it's nice to not be inconveniently interrupted by bouts of coughing. It did set me back on my biking, though, which certainly wasn't great. So now I have to decide whether I want to try and make up the ground I've lost or focus on other things, leaving biking as just a fun activity I do when I don't have other things on my plate. Not an easy decision, actually.

What I actually have to decide now is what to eat. I'm hungry, and don't have anything on my plate currently. (it's a joke!) (a bad one)

Brief Update (And Happy Birthday to my Sister!)

I didn't work today or yesterday, but yesterday I actually did write something. I'll post my finished law school application essay at some point soon. And today I took the GRE's and don't find myself in the mindset to write more. I feel like I did really well on the essays, but the math was abysmal. Typical me, I guess. I guess I'm about average when it comes to numbers. But my verbal scores are good, and I never plan on going to grad school for numberology anyway. Hopefully that's all a prospective college will see. In the meantime, it's my sister's birthday today! So happy birthday to her if she happens to read this in the few hours before she gets here for dinner, and if not, I'm sure I'll tell her then (or sing it at her really obnoxiously).

And a quick observation:
I enjoyed the writing prompts. Something about being challenged to quickly respond to something with insight is appealing to me. I wonder if there is something to that? It feels like thinking on my feet, but being able to type it helps a lot. I noticed I was way better at these writing sections than the LSAT, and I'm pretty sure the only difference was that I had a backspace key and a way to write fast enough so that my fingers could keep up with my brain. Anyway, that's all for now. I had to get up pretty early, and almost five hours of testing is enough thinking for the next while. But I'm not done writing. I'll see what else I can think of in the meantime.

Mostly Magic

I'm getting a late start to writing today because people are apparently tired of me being ill. So I slept until I really couldn't sleep any more and realized it was already past 10:00. And today was a day I actually had some things to write about. Of course, if you've been around me recently, you already know I am excited about magic the gathering stuff right now. I've been playing pretty regularly again, and I usually do well at the local stuff on Mondays and Fridays, so when I came back from my friday tournament early in defeat, I felt I had to justify my poor showing. I had my excuse at the ready, though. I had spent all my time recently testing a new format for the tournament saturday and had thrown something together last minute for Friday.

So Saturday rolled around and I headed to the shop early to get the last couple cards I needed before the tournament started. I was playing a deck I like, and was looking forward to seeing how it performed against a variety of opponents. The thing I like most about my deck is that it has a combination of cards that allows me to gain infinite life, but it doesn't need to get that combo in play to win. This is a significant advantage, because most decks that do powerful things like that are focused only on pulling off that plan, while mine can switch roles and try and disrupt the opponent's plan while attacking them directly if they are trying for a combo of their own. Exactly 16 people showed up, which meant brackets would be filled out perfectly for a four round tournament with a cut to top four.

Round one I played against a guy who was all-in on a combo that would deal infinite damage. He played a lot of ways to search for the combo, but didn't have a lot to do if he didn't get to it. So in the first game (rounds are best two out of three games) I got my combo off before seeing anything about what he was trying to do, since he never found the pieces to his combo. Between games you have the option of changing up your deck a bit using a fifteen card "sideboard," and because I didn't know what he was trying to do I took out a card that was actually amazing against him. I lost the next game in fine fashion, dealt infinite damage by his combo, and retooled my deck to be at its optimum arrangement. I took the third game easily once I knew what to look out for.

The second round I played against a deck I had loaned out to a guy who wanted some tournament experience. Unfortunately, I loaned him a good deck, and I lost the first game rapidly. The second game I made a mistake by playing aggressively for my combo instead of disrupting him, and I paid for it when he cast a spell that says whenever I would gain life I lose that much life instead. Not wanting to lose infinite life, I had to rethink things pretty drastically. I just barely squeaked out the game by racing him dealing damage with my creatures. The third game I won handily, assembling my combo without any problems.

Third round was my worst matchup as far as decks are concerned. Luckily, it wasn't my worst matchup as far as opponents were concerned. This guy was sporting a deck worth $1,800, and he made so many mistakes it was almost laughable. the first game went as I was expecting all of them to go. I played some creatures, he killed them, then he played some creatures, I didn't kill them, and then he killed me. The second game I was sitting there with two creatures that when they die, they come back into play and I gain two life. This is only supposed to happen once, but the combo I play is a card that shuts off the mechanic that makes it only happen once. That card, combined with a way to kill my creatures, is how I gain infinite life. I had the card that shuts off the mechanic, but no way of killing my own creatures, so I was just bouncing them off his creatures as a way of gaining life. It was nowhere near infinite, and when he played a card that destroys any one of mine, I knew I was probably done for. Then he destroyed something irrelevant instead and I went on to win the game. Game three I disrupted him by making him discard a card of my choice. His hand was almost terrible, and I took the best card, leaving him with almost nothing. It was easy to win from there.

Round four I didn't have to play, since the tournament format is such that a record of three wins and a draw is guaranteed to make the cut to top four. Even better, the person I drew with is a friend, meaning we were both going to have a shot at victory. Also, since I didn't have to play for that hour time block, I got to eat, which is a surprisingly significant advantage as the rounds go on. I got back in time to see the guy I played round three make it intonthe top four with another victory.

Round five I played against another combo deck, but this time I knew exactly what I was up against, since I helped the guy test the deck in preparation for this tournament. Game one I got the cards I needed to prevent him from accomplishing his goal and he realized he had no chance, so it was on to the second game really quickly. Game two I had infinite life against his infinite damage, so we briefly played the game of who can choose a higher number before he realized I could always choose a higher number. Then I won the next turn.

The finals were, of course, against the guy from round three with the deck I am still pretty sure isn't a good matchup for me. Game one I got my combo quickly and he conceded. Game two I played a bunch of things to slow down the game and things got a bit stalled. I wound up going all-in on a big creature and just hoping to win that way, and he had a couple of chances to draw what he needed, but his deck didn't cooperate and I wound up winning.

So I turned a ten dollar entry fee into $60, and the best part is I got three byes for a tournament next month, which is sort of a big deal. It's a grand prix stop for magic players, which means it will attract people from all over the world. The first day will be nine rounds, so having three wins already going into it is significant, as it means I only have to manage to get four wins to be set up well for the second day of play. This is the situation all the professional players are in, because they automatically get byes based on pro points they have accumulated. Anyway, I'm excited to try my hand at it. It will be the first large scale tournament I've attended since I was in high school. 

So I'll be busy preparing for that, I suppose, and I'm taking the GRE's on Thursday, and I have a handball tournament this weekend and another in Colorado the weekend after that. I suppose I'm also supposed to be applying to grad schools. We'll see.

No title for some reason

It's official. I'm sick. My throat was a bit raw after my last bike ride (60 miles at 19 mph!), and yesterday it got worse throughout the day. I noticed it yesterday while lifting weights, but that was only a headache. By the time I was heading to bed my congestion had progressed, and it was to the point where I couldn't even get to sleep. I decided the only thing I could do was get as much vitamin c into my body as possible. To put this in perspective, this happened to be the time in the night I would normally be eating some sort of junk food. So I ate three clementines, and I even finished off with a slice chocolate orange. Talk about commitment.

So I went to bed, stayed awake because I was incredibly uncomfortable, and eventually I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is dreaming about paddling a car through deep water and trying to park it between other cars on an embankment. I'm not sure why floating cars were the standard of transportation, but I also distinctly remember being very warm, sweating, and flushed from frustration. So naturally, when I woke up I was expecting to be sweaty, but I was a pretty average temperature. There's nothing quite like assuming you know why a dream was going the way it was and then realizing your explanation isn't applicable. I was sure the fact I was hot was related to the fact I had more covers on my bed than normal (it finally got cold in Iowa, and I shivered for a while before falling asleep), and I'm always looking to explain my dreams, so it was almost disappointing to wake up and not be having an intense fever. I'm still really congested and sore and stuff though. I'm really glad I'm not working today. I woke up before 6:00am got up because I was too uncomfortable to sleep, and then went back to bed once I felt a bit better. So I'm not really on my strict writing schedule, but I'm getting it done gradually between sleepy states.

I've decided the best course of action for writing my personal essay for law school is just to write it here and directed at my normal readers. I figure if I make it genuinely personal, it actually has the best chance of success. So stay tuned for that hopefully next time, but I might wait until I feel better.

Blue bunny ice cream

Chocolate seduction has never had to seduce anyone
it's never had to put on makeup, don a slinky outfit
Or use a sexy voice. Let's be honest:
The seduction is over after I read the word chocolate.

They could call their flavors "chocolate 1" through "chocolate 5"
And I'd still be eagerly reaching for the nearest silverware
Ready to do battle with the chocolate chunks
And stiffened ribbons, freezer fresh and anchored
With spoon-bending rigidity so my knuckles come out
Coated in crystallized, many-times-melted goo.

The distinction eludes me; what makes one chocolate a "Champion"
And the other "seductive?" does the former demand my money outright
While the latter wiles it from my wallet, tenderly taking the bills
Between two fingers, curled eyelashes framing doe's eyes bobbing
In their hypnotic lock until the dainty fingers find a pocket.

Me:
I wrote this post a while ago, but unfortunately it still applies perfectly. I've been coughing fairly constantly for a couple of days. It's really diminishing my willpower. I have plenty of things that need doing, but I keep thinking maybe I'll feel better tomorrow. So far, not so good.

It's ten o'clock and I'm sticking to my schedule! Yeah, I know it's the first day, but I've never really set a schedule for myself to write before, so I'm considering this an event. Now the trick is to come up with things to write for two hours. So it's time to consult the notes on my phone for some ideas. These are mostly around a year old, so if something is lost in my removal from their original conception, cut me some slack.

Troubles with Chess

Sometimes I think the problem is that you can't decline to move
There's this assumption that movement is progress
And that progress is good.
But if one side is on defense, having established a firm position
Bunkered down behind a line of pawns
To move is to weaken,  and progress leads to death.

Sitting tight is the order of the day
Propped up in dunes, rifles at the almost-ready
Defending the sea of glaring grains behind
While it ungratefully insinuates itself
Into our every orifice.

When we drop our pants, that orifice, too
Is inundated. The reverse-tornado spirals up
Through makeshift bathroom floors
Cool tile but a memory to calloused feet
Now used to sunburn and splinters.
Plumbing no more intricate than the shovel
Propped at the door. Sign reads:
Cover your crap

Binoculars are raised more than rifles
Though each bear witness to the scouring, wind-slung sand.
So, too, do our bodies, micro-scratches on the glass
Of lenses and scopes mirrored in the angry redness
Where the clothing slipped, and once breached,
Rubbed raw against the skin.

We aren't police; every bullet does not require a signature,
Paperwork filled out to reside in metal drawers
In case someone loses count.
No, we fire countless bullets. "Bet you can't hit that can."
And four minutes later there is no can
Just a bunch of bored guys with sandy guns
That still shoot straight.

So here we sit,  shooting the shit,
And shooting at shit
And shitting in holes in the sand.

Poem:
The analogy is one I couldn't help but draw. I don't play chess very much, but something I do remember was, as black, wishing I could just not move and make the opponent come to me. And from what I've seen in movies and such, soldiers in the middle east spent a lot of time waiting for things to happen. Maybe not so much once we took control of places and they were involved in daily policing activities, and it's doubtful that movies get things very right anyway, but when we had/have tons of guys waiting for people in Washington to make up their minds, I imagine them alternating between keeping watch to make sure their base is safe and finding ways to kill time.

Back at it

It's finally sinking in, I suppose, that I need structure to function. Sure, I'm having fun doing basically what I want all day, but it would be nice to look back when I'm falling asleep and be happy with what I did on a level that isn't simply hedonistic. To that end, I plan to set aside the hours between 10:00 and 12:00 each morning to write. It might not always be blog entries, especially since I have some applications to get together for law schools, but I think it's a good place to start.

Regarding the whole law school thing, it turns out I got the exact same score on my second attempt, which is really frustrating. I felt like four of the five sections went well, and because one section is dropped each time, I had decent reason to hope for an improvement, but I guess it was not to be. Lackaday and all that. The thing is, I wasn't really pursuing this option because it's what I want to do; it just seemed like the most viable of the options presented to me. It probably still is, too, to be honest. I just really wanted to be guaranteed admittance to a good school so I wouldn't have to worry about finding a job when I'm done. Law school is expensive, and being stuck with debt isn't a thing I'm willing to have happen. So now my options seem to be to go to a poorer-quality school and try to avoid the debt thing, or take my chances with a mid-tier school. And because I don't relish the career itself, neither of those is motivating me to be passionate about the essays I have to write or the interviews I'm going to have to give.

This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Me:
So I guess the time has come (the Walrus said?) to talk of many things.
Of cars and phones and handball courts
of words that rhyme with "things."

So if you haven't heard, I crashed my car. I was in too much of a hurry and never saw the person who hit me. My insurance will probably cover it, but I'm a bit apprehensive, since I have the minimum coverage that would let me legally drive, and I haven't gotten a for sure on anything yet. And if that wasn't bad enough, the next morning my phone fell out of my pocket and the back cracked in a bunch of places. Not a great series of events for the expensive stuff I use all the time.

Combine all that with the fact that the only place with racquetball courts that are free to use is becoming  a paid facility, and you've got a pretty nonplussed person. I still haven't figured out exactly how much it would cost me to continue playing, but I'm sure it's not cheap.

The only thing that seems to be way too nice is the weather. In fact, it's so nice I'll probably keel over dead. (Can you tell I'm an optimist?) I got off the bike today and felt a bit shaky. I quickly ate what was probably too much food (leftover chinese, two large pancakes, three pieces of bread with jam, and generous amounts of chocolate) before heading off to handball. I started off okay, but quickly realized I was fatiguing rapidly. It got to the point where at the end I was just serving and hitting one or two shots before giving up. Ugh. On the plus side, I felt a lot more comfortable on the bike at the beginning of the ride than I did yesterday. I think I'll need a day off tomorrow before hitting the road again on Saturday. It's supposed to be 57 degrees! That seems a bit absurd.

Speaking of Chinese food, I ate it three times today! We ordered from a new restaurant last night and got way too much, which turned out great. It was delicious. I had three meals worth of leftovers, and my parents each took some for lunch. My favorite was probably the moo shu vegetables, which came with an amazing plum sauce. Unfortunately, the food defies description (or I'm just really bad at coming up with words to describe foreign food), so I'm afraid I won't be able to say much more than it was a pleasure to consume.

I should be hearing back about my most recent LSAT attempt next week. It's kind of strange to think that that news will play a large role in determining what I wind up doing with the rest of my life. But I guess that's how things go frequently. Perhaps we just don't realize it in advance very often.

Observation:
I was sitting at work doing typical routine things when my mind, in one of it's unpredictable twists, started puzzling over the concept of sound and speakers and whatnot. It occurred to me that when I think of a record player, it has become ingrained in my mind that the record has somehow captured the sound and relates its tones to the machine which emits them. This, of course, is completely wrong. The record is simply a crude way of letting the machine know what sounds it is supposed to play. This may not seem like a crucial difference, but when I thought of it, my mind immediately jumped to a question: if the record's only purpose is to let the machine know what sounds to emit, couldn't anything "readable" be substituted for a record? By this I mean that, as long as there is a thing with different "states," we can arbitrarily assign those states tones or pitches or inflections and thereby extract sound from anything. For example, take any uneven surface, or any fluctuation of light. If we have a way of recording the differences in these materials, we can extract sounds from them in the same way we extract sound from a record. Granted, there's almost no chance the sound will be pleasant, but (and this may be a bit lengthy) this leads to the next point I want to make. Given that playback is simply a matter of assigning tones/pitches to variables, if we were to isolate the variables that are caused by sound itself, we would be able to resurrect sounds from anything they had affected. Yeah, this is what is used in a telephone. We know how sound affects the microphone, it translates that sound into electric something-or-others and it is then decoded by a speaker. But what if we could find out how sound affected everyday things? Like walls, for example. What if the walls really could have ears? If we could figure out what changed when a wall is affected by sound, we could theoretically design a machine to replay whatever sounds had affected the wall. Anyway, that's what popped into my head when I was sitting at my microscope.

Me again:
When I got back from handball I got hungry again. A serving size of potato chips is 13 chips. There are 16 servings in this particular bag, so according to my calculations, by morning I will have eaten approximately 200 potato chips. In unrelated news, 13 x 16 - the dregs of a bag of potato chips = 200. But hey, it's not my fault. They are about to expire in four months. I consider this adequate justification, but in case there are dissenters, you should know that I've come up with the best combination of dipping materials to date. See, if I dip my potato chips in one thing for too long (~6 chips), I get used to the flavor and they stop being addictively delicious. But if I vary my dipping strategically, I can eat indefinitely. Today, I used french onion dip and sweet and sour sauce (also left over from the chinese food). Amazing!

As long as I'm confessing, I also ate an entire king size bar of hershey's special dark chocolate today. I feel fat.

Christmas post

It's been almost a year since I started this blog, and almost a month since I updated it last. But I've posted 95 times now, which is a decent average if you think about it. And if I wasn't so frequently overcome by bouts of malaise when it comes to posting, I probably could have done better. As it is, for a first year, I think it has gone pretty well. I'm not unhappy with the switch away from the stricter formatting I started with. It was good in that it forced me to work on the things I wanted to work on, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that it's not incredibly important to work on your weak points in that fashion. Yes, I have difficulty motivating myself to write fiction and to come up with ideas. But I've decided that the best way to go about tackling this is to wait. I generally hate saying much about my ambitions for writing, but recently I feel as though I have some ideas percolating and am optimistic they might find some sort of form in the weeks or months to come. Please don't ask me about this. It's all I want to say. I'll just leave it at "I have a computer of my own again, and I intend to use it."

I just got back from a trip to Wisconsin to visit relatives, and I must say that on the whole it was quite a success. Everyone was pleasant, and despite getting overwhelmed a bit by all the socializing on Saturday, it was good to touch base with everyone. I was beginning to get that nagging feeling that I hadn't seen these people in too long. I'm not sure when that feeling will strike again, but I'm glad we had the opportunity (and fantastic travel weather) to abate it for a while. As with every trip, I had some random impressions and thoughts.

The first problem I encountered was whether or not to be modest around my Dad's side of the family. Sometimes it feels like there is a bit of a competition amongst the cousins regarding who is doing well and whatnot. I played it safe and took the modest approach. When asked about my plans I said I was waiting to hear back about my second round of LSAT testing, didn't really say much about my score, and only gave further information if prompted. It was a bit funny, really, because the cousin I felt got the most attention wasn't even in attendance. Laura, recently-married, was the topic of choice when it came to people who were doing well. She recently changed jobs and makes a lot of money as the person in charge of the books for a large non-profit. The rest of the cousins there were sort of the deadbeats, I guess. I'm living at home, Joe is working nights at a heat-treatment plant, Jeanine is working while finishing up a grad school thing in an area she didn't really want to pursue in the first place, and my sister is still in college, and so won't warrant attention until next year, when plans are more required. But Laura always was the one with the work ethic, plans, and ambition. Plus, her wedding photos were beautiful. It left me in an awkward situation, since of course I feel like I'm still going somewhere, like I'm taking steps to make something of my life, but of course so do the rest of these people to whom I'm hesitant to give credence.

That whole thing led to another small realization: until you've actually done something as a writer, you're a joke. Joe is theoretically also interested in being a writer, to the point where when people are going around talking about what their kids are doing, he gets called the "famous writer-to-be" in the family. I almost choked. I've never read anything he's written, and he might be fantastic, so that's not really the point. The point is, I'm sure that's what people think whenever anyone says they want to be a writer. And when that person is me, and I don't really pursue anything to the point of submitting it, I'm sure it's just as ridiculous to hear. So now I'm the "famous lawyer-to-be" in the family. At least when someone says they're going to be a lawyer it occasionally means something to someone...

I have two more things to say about Saturday. The first is that, until I'd been to college, I never realized the significant role alcohol plays in this family, but this year I kept a bit more track of who was drinking what and how often. The growing boisterousness and increased volume, coupled with the further and further stretching for sexual innuendos, all of a sudden made a lot more sense than they did when I was younger. When almost half the gifts exchanged centered around alcohol of some sort, all I could do was shake my head. I don't see the point. It's probably just lost on me or something. The second thing I wanted to mention is that chocolate is delicious. The dessert of the evening was a chocolate-cherry trifle, and I'm going to cannibalize it into a chocolate-raspberry concoction soon.

Well, my parents are back from their bike ride, making continuing to write a futile endeavor what with all the conversation (feline and human alike). So I'll try to write a bit more soon. Maybe not as much about the trip. We'll see. I hope everyone had a great holiday. I know I count mine a success.

Thanksgiving etc.

I have  a couple of other posts with poems started , but about halfway through I decided I hated them. So I figured I'd just type some here to make sure everyone knows I'm still alive and whatnot. Thanksgiving break went marvelously. As usual, I found myself with less time to myself than during normal weeks, but when it's the company of friends I'm plagued by rather than the company of coworkers, I find I human interaction much less distasteful. I'm not sure I wore my headphones for more than a few hours the past four days. In typical fashion, my family didn't quite get our act together for a gigantic Thanksgiving day, and what wound up happening was a drawn out affair wherein we had our traditional items spread out over a few day's worth of meals. It wound up feeling similar to how I usually hear the holiday described, with days worth of leftovers drawing out the experience. Because my family doesn't eat meat, this process rarely applies to us. But having many days worth of Thanksgiving fare was great. Sitting down together for nice meals isn't something I usually put a lot of emphasis on, but it was perhaps that fact that made it seem special/ when it happened consistently.

Black Friday was pretty uneventful as far as shopping was concerned. In fact, the only thing I bought, I bought online, using my phone while I was in another store realizing the prices still weren't good enough to justify being awake. I did buy some used books at our local store downtown, an event prompted by my recent re-reading of Stranger in a Strange Land. I bought another copy of it, in fact, as well as a couple of other things. I have decided it is almost impossible to find decent science fiction books without researching a bit. Looking at the shelf, I was astonished at the amount of junk taking up space. Titles like Robot Unicorns From Alpha Six are not out of place. It's no wonder that people look down on the genre as if it exists purely for cheap entertainment. But maybe I should look at it as encouraging. Maybe there is room out there for more as long as it's not crap. Then again, reading Heinlein takes up the opposite side of the spectrum. That guy could write.

I hope the holidays treated everyone well and continue to do so!

Beds

I'm sorry to have to say this, but my life might be over. I might never make it out of bed again. After a week in my car (during which I actually slept quite a bit), my reintroduction to soft surfaces was a significant occurrence. I grabbed my technology and vowed to myself never to leave again. I blogged on my iPad, browsed the internet, checked my email, etc. And then I fell asleep. It was glorious. Unfortunately, this process was repeated a number of times, and eventually I came to the realization I was not to be trusted with a giant pillow that cradles my body perfectly while keeping me warm and content. Very anti-productive.

So hear I am at the desktop near the kitchen vowing to actually get some typing done. The first order of business is to finish a poem I started a while ago:

Bus Ride

I'm sitting here in shorts

watching the 30-degree exterior

in millisecond-snapshots

framed in the black metal

of the bus's doors

while across from me

a girl huddles,

clutching her knees

and her knapsack

with her mittened hands

as the faux fur hood

half-drawn, obscures most

of the loneliness.

 

Summer's end an end

to the final familiarity,

the heat the last reminder

of China, family,

and the warmth of friendship.

 

A ball unto herself,

the people rise and fall

from the red seats around her,

like bobbing corks

or whack-a-moles

puffy jackets
brushing her elbows

brief contact

until someone scoots away.

 

More from Missouri:

I was trying to remember something from Missouri that would portray what I took away from the experience, and I think this anecdote will serve nicely. It turned out that, as with every college sport I've come in contact with, the handball scene includes a significant amount of drinking. I had the pleasure of overhearing a girl say the following:

"I used to be concerned that drinking would kill brain cells, but my dad likes to say that it's just weeding out the bad brain cells. It's like natural selection for my brain!"

I don't know what part of this is the best. The fact that natural selection is probably something she learned about during one of her (probably few) sober days in class? The fact that natural selection obviously works completely differently than she thinks, and in a just (if ironic) world, will probably have its way with her? Or the fact that it was her DAD that said it. And then the guy she was talking to said, "That's a great way of looking at it!" I hope it's a Missouri thing.

Also while I was in Missouri meeting with graduate departments, I was generally discouraged by their lack of interest. Then I met with the Religious Studies department. The guy was fantastic, southern accent and all. Perhaps it was the fact he was being the stereotypical, smiling, hospitable gentleman that led him to humor me while slipping hints that I might not be up to snuff. It started with him inquiring into my background of Religious Studies. When I replied that it was negative (although my philosophy major certainly relates), he said I would probably find the courses quite challenging. He started talking about getting me into what amounted to remedial courses and catch-up stuff before I asked him about financial aid. He hemmed and hawed for a bit and then asked me for my GPA. After I responded, his tone changed considerably. Talk of remedial courses ceased, he regretted the lack of assistantships, and said he'd get me in as soon as my application was submitted. The change of tone was fantastic to hear. I know Missouri State isn't exactly the cream of the crop, but it was just nice to know I was wanted to be in a graduate program somewhere.

I'm Back!

Height

Three arched-ceiling stories of separation
Is all it takes
For me to stop considering their wants.
Their thoughts,
Which pulled at my curiosity
As they passed inches from my shoulders
Have ceased, now that all I see
Are hats, hair, and similitude.

Perhaps this is where perspective comes from,
The inability to care about the tops of heads
The minute manifestations of singularity,
Slumped shoulders, a quickened gait,
So easily ignored.

If I, from my third-floor, library perch,
Can't associate the faceless masses
Filling sidewalks, destined for work,
With individuals, with sadness,
With a rushed cup of coffee
Or a dropped phone,
And an almost-silent curse,
As the bent-over break in traffic,
The diverging flow of heads and hats
Are the only evidence I have that something happened,
What must the sixty-floor man think,
Corner office filled with framed faces
As specks of color scuttle below
So easily reduced.

And what of the churches rising from the house-lines
Towering over the run-down rentals,
The men behind stained glass peering down
At the tops of heads?
If it's the eyes which are windows to the soul
Do they see me walking below, my head,
My red jacket, my metronomic stride,
Or do they only see the multitude
The sidewalked masses?

Poem:
I spent a lot of time in a library looking out a window, and this is just one if the things u noticed. When I pass a stranger on the sidewalk, a part of me wonders what's going on in their head, what their life holds or means to them. But when I looked down, nothing of the sort occurred to me. Perspective is a funny thing.

Observation/Me:
For those of you who don't know, I spent the last week in Springfield, Missouri. Missouri State University there has the best handball program in the country, and their coach told me to see if I could enroll there after seeing me play in Kansas City. I went down for a tournament they held last weekend and stuck around to meet with their graduate school and attend some practices. Unfortunately, none of the departments or office had funding available, so it doesn't look like I'll be going there. While there, however, I had a lot of free time. As usual, I wasted the overwhelming majority of it, but I did do some blogging-style stuff. I didn't get it uploaded because I was mostly on campus, and since I was using my iPad (and the Internet there was only accessible to students), I decided to wait raher than wander until I could find free wireless.

Another thing which was noteworthy about my trip was my accommodation situation. I stayed in my car. I do this at most tournaments I attend in order to save money. I could have stayed with someone from the handball team, but after talking to them I got the imorssuon they were much more interested in drinking than I was, so I opted to keep staying in my car. Cntinuing my quest to conserve the number of dollars I have, I also bought pretty basic food. Essentially, I became a hobo for a week. It was not the incredibly fun time I was expecting. It turns out sleeping in a car is uncomfortable and that eating cold deli meat sandwiches for almost every meal is less than stellar. With that in mind, here's some stuff I wrote last week.

I went to walmart to purchase some food, bought the cheapest deli meat, cheese, and bread I could find (based on price per ounce), and still wound up spending almost twenty dollars (after you factor in the bagels I also bought. And sales tax. And a pumpkin pie). I thought to myself, "for that price, I could just eat at a buffet and save some money. But having consumed almost all of that food, I am assured I made the right decision. It lasted me four full meals and I still have five bagels left. The buffet would have replaced at best two meals, and probably would have resulted in severe discomfort. Granted, I am currently in moderate discomfort, but I believe that to be the fault of eating an entire pie. I think I may have consumed approximately one too many of those in the past twenty-four hours (give or take a few pieces). It can't possibly be my fault, though; I blame whoever it was that made pumpkin pie so delicious.

I wrote that on Monday. Walmart is selling pumpkin pie for less than three dollars. Enough said.

Later in the week (Thursday or Friday), I wrote this:

I realized yesterday that my diet of bread, meat, cheese, and more bread wasn't really fulfilling my fruit and vegetable requirements, so I walked into walmart with the intent of rectifying the situation. Ten minutes later I emerged with the makings for even more sandwiches and blueberry muffins. And an apple pie. I ate a muffin, consuming somewhere in the neighborhood of three and a half blueberries, and thought maybe I could have gone about acquiring fruit in a better way. A couple of sandwiches and a piece of pie later, and I am full, but not quite content. I'm currently craving salty snacks and thinking back on the chocolate cake a narrowly talked myself out of buying.

The upside of eating bland sandwiches for a week is that my first meal once I got back was amazing. Flavor, while perhaps unnecessary, is amazing! More about my trip will follow shortly, I hope. It's good to be back.