| How to make a JGreengiant1914 |
| Ingredients: 3 parts intelligence 1 part ambition 3 parts empathy |
| Method: Layer ingredientes in a shot glass. Top it off with a sprinkle of curiosity and enjoy! |
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Sunday, December 12, 2004
This blog is purely a productive of my inability to sleep, so I'm warning you, the contents may be lame.
Saw Ocean's Twelve tonight. Big letdown, I'm sad to say. Oh well. Sadly, and this probably doesn't surprise Daniel, I'm not a big Wes Anderson fan (though I was recently at a party where you had to come with a Wes Andersonesque character), so The Life Aquatic holds no hope for me. Who knows, I should probably see it before judging.
In the midst of finals, having finished my big English paper (all nighter, baby!) and looking forward to a take home Theology essay, an open note, open book math exam and the Econ final. All that mixed in with Christmas shopping, Christmas parties, A Christmas Carol, and all things Christmas, and I'm making it through just fine.
Like every English final, I had a desire to make some big statement and prove myself as a scholar. This time, I feel like I missed it a bit. I did too much textual analysis and though I made my point clearly, I just didn't breathe a lot of life into it. Hopefully next semester's Short Fiction Writing class goes well.
As for how this semester has been in general, I'm not quite sure. I definitely feel like all things academic were sort of secondary, which may be reflected in my grades. I just delved into theater and friends a bit more and I guess didn't apply my academic time very well. I don't even know if I regret that or not. I just know that I always start semesters so set on being diligent and that just fades somewhere and I become my normal, unmotivated self. I tried to come back later in the semester, but it might have been too little too late, particularly with Theology. Who knows, maybe I'll do well on the essay.
Wow, this IS lame.
My math teacher told us that actuaries were ranked second in least stressful jobs (with some sort of salary index included). I'm still not sure how I feel about doing that out of college. I mean, I think I might enjoy it, if I wasn't the gofer I was this summer all the time. My boss and the other guys seemed to like what they do. But I'm sure others understand that it's not exactly the dream, you know? I'll have to see if I do it again this summer. Lot of factors in that decision.
Ok, I'm out
Saw Ocean's Twelve tonight. Big letdown, I'm sad to say. Oh well. Sadly, and this probably doesn't surprise Daniel, I'm not a big Wes Anderson fan (though I was recently at a party where you had to come with a Wes Andersonesque character), so The Life Aquatic holds no hope for me. Who knows, I should probably see it before judging.
In the midst of finals, having finished my big English paper (all nighter, baby!) and looking forward to a take home Theology essay, an open note, open book math exam and the Econ final. All that mixed in with Christmas shopping, Christmas parties, A Christmas Carol, and all things Christmas, and I'm making it through just fine.
Like every English final, I had a desire to make some big statement and prove myself as a scholar. This time, I feel like I missed it a bit. I did too much textual analysis and though I made my point clearly, I just didn't breathe a lot of life into it. Hopefully next semester's Short Fiction Writing class goes well.
As for how this semester has been in general, I'm not quite sure. I definitely feel like all things academic were sort of secondary, which may be reflected in my grades. I just delved into theater and friends a bit more and I guess didn't apply my academic time very well. I don't even know if I regret that or not. I just know that I always start semesters so set on being diligent and that just fades somewhere and I become my normal, unmotivated self. I tried to come back later in the semester, but it might have been too little too late, particularly with Theology. Who knows, maybe I'll do well on the essay.
Wow, this IS lame.
My math teacher told us that actuaries were ranked second in least stressful jobs (with some sort of salary index included). I'm still not sure how I feel about doing that out of college. I mean, I think I might enjoy it, if I wasn't the gofer I was this summer all the time. My boss and the other guys seemed to like what they do. But I'm sure others understand that it's not exactly the dream, you know? I'll have to see if I do it again this summer. Lot of factors in that decision.
Ok, I'm out
Sunday, November 28, 2004
"65 years...don't they go by in a blink?" - Meet Joe Black
Ok, so this Thanksgiving break was no 65 years, but nonetheless, it's Sunday and I don't know where the time went.
It's funny how I always talk about going to PA in terms of consistency. Everything's always the same as the last year, change is minimal, parts of it are comforting, other parts are tedious. For some reason, I thought this year would be different with us living in Baltimore. However, despite me forgetting my backpack in my room, catching a noon MARC train and spending a Friends filled night at mom's, once we actually got to PA, it was more of the same. There were subtle differences. It was the first Thanksgiving since Mom-mom died, but since she'd been sick so long, it was probably the 5th Thanksgiving we spent without her at the table. It was also the first Thanksgiving in a long time that the family didn't eat all together, mom and her four brothers. Instead, everyone had dinner with the other side of their respective families, except for Uncle Don and Aunt Kim, who generously had us for dinner. It was a quieter meal than I was used to, but it was nice, and it seems that my cousin Rachael might not hate me that much anymore. Sure, we were ganging up on my uncle, but it's still a nice change.
The rest of the trip was spent at Uncle Kevin's. We went to a big public market Friday and I picked up Heat and a new Identity since I doubt my friend's RA will ever get it back to me. Then we went to Best Buy, which had a 5 DVDs for $25 bin! So I picked up Grumpy Old Men, Absolute Power, Blade Runner, The Client, and Training Day. That's 7 movies in one day for about 6 bucks a pop. Not too shabby.
Then again, I always tell Mom that not spending money is cheaper than a deal. Whatever.
Then last night, we had the big family dinner that usually happens on Thursday. All the brothers came and we also had Rachael's poor boyfriend who was thrust into the craziness that is my family. Glad I was more merciful than that. We played the family football game and Brian and I won, despite the fact that I was smoked several times by a 6th grader.
And oh yeah, who made a big catch in the UGA-GT game? Sean Bailey, that's who! That kid's so freaking fast.
But yeah, it was a pretty laid back weekend. So laid back, in fact, that here I am musing about how it was over so quickly. I don't know what I feel about that. Maybe I want more of a break, but I know a part of me wants to get back. Maybe I'm freaked out about the work ahead of me, but maybe I'm happy to get back to it. Jeebus, I don't know. Too much to think about. I'm just gonna go do my math homework about different sized infinities. Who wants to join me? No one...yeah, sounds about right.
Ok, so this Thanksgiving break was no 65 years, but nonetheless, it's Sunday and I don't know where the time went.
It's funny how I always talk about going to PA in terms of consistency. Everything's always the same as the last year, change is minimal, parts of it are comforting, other parts are tedious. For some reason, I thought this year would be different with us living in Baltimore. However, despite me forgetting my backpack in my room, catching a noon MARC train and spending a Friends filled night at mom's, once we actually got to PA, it was more of the same. There were subtle differences. It was the first Thanksgiving since Mom-mom died, but since she'd been sick so long, it was probably the 5th Thanksgiving we spent without her at the table. It was also the first Thanksgiving in a long time that the family didn't eat all together, mom and her four brothers. Instead, everyone had dinner with the other side of their respective families, except for Uncle Don and Aunt Kim, who generously had us for dinner. It was a quieter meal than I was used to, but it was nice, and it seems that my cousin Rachael might not hate me that much anymore. Sure, we were ganging up on my uncle, but it's still a nice change.
The rest of the trip was spent at Uncle Kevin's. We went to a big public market Friday and I picked up Heat and a new Identity since I doubt my friend's RA will ever get it back to me. Then we went to Best Buy, which had a
Then again, I always tell Mom that not spending money is cheaper than a deal. Whatever.
Then last night, we had the big family dinner that usually happens on Thursday. All the brothers came and we also had Rachael's poor boyfriend who was thrust into the craziness that is my family. Glad I was more merciful than that. We played the family football game and Brian and I won, despite the fact that I was smoked several times by a 6th grader.
And oh yeah, who made a big catch in the UGA-GT game? Sean Bailey, that's who! That kid's so freaking fast.
But yeah, it was a pretty laid back weekend. So laid back, in fact, that here I am musing about how it was over so quickly. I don't know what I feel about that. Maybe I want more of a break, but I know a part of me wants to get back. Maybe I'm freaked out about the work ahead of me, but maybe I'm happy to get back to it. Jeebus, I don't know. Too much to think about. I'm just gonna go do my math homework about different sized infinities. Who wants to join me? No one...yeah, sounds about right.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Well, hope no one's expecting a nice manifesto like the last one, although I still mean every word.
Things are ok here on Ian ranch. I feel the lack of theater but at the same time, I NEED to get back into the swing of my studies. I can always fudge my way through math and stay on track, but English is slipping through my fingers. We're supposed to have 2 outside sources a week roughly. So you figure we've been in school how long now? 9 weeks? So I should have 18+ sources right? I have 11, and one I haven't actually analyzed. So yeah, kinda behind.
I'm just having my usual motivation problems. Time seems to slip away and I'm suddenly one more day in the hole with nothing to show for it. I suppose blogging's not the best answer, but then again, what are we supposed to be doing? Should we embrace required classes that are meant to round us out as students? Or do we just get by in them? Do we always do what we should, or should we do what we want? Yeah, they're fun questions and I could sit down and muse all day, but I neither should nor want to. I should go to the library, read The Jew of Malta, pick up some sources and otherwise prepare for tomorrow. I want to take a nap.
Let's see what happens...
Things are ok here on Ian ranch. I feel the lack of theater but at the same time, I NEED to get back into the swing of my studies. I can always fudge my way through math and stay on track, but English is slipping through my fingers. We're supposed to have 2 outside sources a week roughly. So you figure we've been in school how long now? 9 weeks? So I should have 18+ sources right? I have 11, and one I haven't actually analyzed. So yeah, kinda behind.
I'm just having my usual motivation problems. Time seems to slip away and I'm suddenly one more day in the hole with nothing to show for it. I suppose blogging's not the best answer, but then again, what are we supposed to be doing? Should we embrace required classes that are meant to round us out as students? Or do we just get by in them? Do we always do what we should, or should we do what we want? Yeah, they're fun questions and I could sit down and muse all day, but I neither should nor want to. I should go to the library, read The Jew of Malta, pick up some sources and otherwise prepare for tomorrow. I want to take a nap.
Let's see what happens...
Thursday, October 28, 2004
This one goes out to the Milton High School classes of 2003 and 2004...
I have been overwhelmed lately with the creative output of several graduates of our fine institution. Let me make it clear that to tie all of us to Milton is only to reference that school which we have in common, for besides those professors or moments at Milton that made us who we are, all of you should know that the incredible potential in each of you was not taught...not even through the AP program. No, it is those inherent geniuses in all of you that constantly overwhelm me. If any of you is reading this thinking I am only referring to certain people, you are mistaken. I have a sense of who reads this blog and I know that the people I knew in high school, all of them, were, in some way shape or form, capable of amazing things. Whether I was blind for the past few years and have only now realized it or if suddenly everyone's tapping their creative juices, suddenly the potential, combined and personal, of you guys is blossoming beautifully. I'd like to thank you all for being endlessly inspirational.
That being said, I ask all of you, for reasons I'm still not clear on, to keep at it. Whatever it is, I'm leaving that open, but I feel as if we're all at a point where we must decide whether we'll do these things, "satisfy the inscrutable exhortations of our soul" as Calvin would say, or if we'll let college, in its warm yet sinister way, convince us that whatever we want to say has been said, whatever we want to do has been done, and whoever we want to be must be subject to the majors available to us. Sure, a lot of college gives us more experience, more insight, more age, but all that is nothing if not appreciated. No, all of us have something to contribute. I know that because I had classes with you, lunches with you, walks with you, and for some, as little as a conversation with you that told me that, regardless of how much I noticed at the time, you had something to contribute. Maybe that seems egotistical, to say I learned that each of you has something to offer me. Maybe it is, or maybe it's just that I recognize that I would be nothing without the inspiration you've ALL fostered in me. I know if I were to say this to any one of you, you'd shrug it off and smile and crack a joke to kill it. I would to if someone said this. I'm hoping that shotgunning it out over all of you makes you stop and think for a moment. So to all of you, those who have already shared your creativity with me or those whose promise I only glimpsed once in a smile or a word or a look, I beg of you to never say die and put yourself out there.
What brought this on? I can't honestly say. But I know these two classes, with whom I had the most contact, are chock full of the next generations poets, artists, creators and lovers. Maybe college will harden us or has already, but chances are that all of us have at least a shred left in our beautiful views of the world.
Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
I have been overwhelmed lately with the creative output of several graduates of our fine institution. Let me make it clear that to tie all of us to Milton is only to reference that school which we have in common, for besides those professors or moments at Milton that made us who we are, all of you should know that the incredible potential in each of you was not taught...not even through the AP program. No, it is those inherent geniuses in all of you that constantly overwhelm me. If any of you is reading this thinking I am only referring to certain people, you are mistaken. I have a sense of who reads this blog and I know that the people I knew in high school, all of them, were, in some way shape or form, capable of amazing things. Whether I was blind for the past few years and have only now realized it or if suddenly everyone's tapping their creative juices, suddenly the potential, combined and personal, of you guys is blossoming beautifully. I'd like to thank you all for being endlessly inspirational.
That being said, I ask all of you, for reasons I'm still not clear on, to keep at it. Whatever it is, I'm leaving that open, but I feel as if we're all at a point where we must decide whether we'll do these things, "satisfy the inscrutable exhortations of our soul" as Calvin would say, or if we'll let college, in its warm yet sinister way, convince us that whatever we want to say has been said, whatever we want to do has been done, and whoever we want to be must be subject to the majors available to us. Sure, a lot of college gives us more experience, more insight, more age, but all that is nothing if not appreciated. No, all of us have something to contribute. I know that because I had classes with you, lunches with you, walks with you, and for some, as little as a conversation with you that told me that, regardless of how much I noticed at the time, you had something to contribute. Maybe that seems egotistical, to say I learned that each of you has something to offer me. Maybe it is, or maybe it's just that I recognize that I would be nothing without the inspiration you've ALL fostered in me. I know if I were to say this to any one of you, you'd shrug it off and smile and crack a joke to kill it. I would to if someone said this. I'm hoping that shotgunning it out over all of you makes you stop and think for a moment. So to all of you, those who have already shared your creativity with me or those whose promise I only glimpsed once in a smile or a word or a look, I beg of you to never say die and put yourself out there.
What brought this on? I can't honestly say. But I know these two classes, with whom I had the most contact, are chock full of the next generations poets, artists, creators and lovers. Maybe college will harden us or has already, but chances are that all of us have at least a shred left in our beautiful views of the world.
Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Friday, October 22, 2004
God, you KNOW it's a bad hangover when you not only have the headache of a lifetime but you just get pissed off about the state of your life. I mean, come now, is that REALLY just punishment for drinking, to make me down on myself.
Ok, so it's not quite so bad as all that. Pygmalion opened last night to a decent crowd and went really well. Since my role is supposed to be a clown, having an audience to play off of just amped me up that much more and I really had a lot of fun out there. What's more, I got some wonderful comments from some actors I really respect. No matter how many really great things they say, I'll still feel like I've pulled one over on this acting community here at Georgetown and someday they'll find me out and throw me backstage again. In all truth, it was great to hear and made me feel a lot better about all the time I've put into the show.
Champagne party was crazy. I was worse than I should have been and didn't thank anyone due to that. So I think a headache would have been fine to rebuke me after that, but alas, I also have to seriously question my writing and stuff.
I watched Adam's trailer today and it was absolutely astounding. The acting looks perfect, the shots are brilliant and, most importantly, the writing sounds incredible. Now I'm going to ruin all those nice things I said by saying I went straight from the trailer to taking a long look at the project I'm writing, and frankly, I'm not very happy with it at the moment. I don't know whether I think I'm too blunt or what, but I don't think my little jokes in it are enough to make it good writing. Maybe that's the hangover talking and tomorrow I'll crack out a few more pages and everything will be great, but maybe once again, I've come to a point in the process where I know I don't like it and I might just leave it.
So shit, way to blow a compliment to Adam and the gang, Ian. You guys really do blow me away.
Ok, so it's not quite so bad as all that. Pygmalion opened last night to a decent crowd and went really well. Since my role is supposed to be a clown, having an audience to play off of just amped me up that much more and I really had a lot of fun out there. What's more, I got some wonderful comments from some actors I really respect. No matter how many really great things they say, I'll still feel like I've pulled one over on this acting community here at Georgetown and someday they'll find me out and throw me backstage again. In all truth, it was great to hear and made me feel a lot better about all the time I've put into the show.
Champagne party was crazy. I was worse than I should have been and didn't thank anyone due to that. So I think a headache would have been fine to rebuke me after that, but alas, I also have to seriously question my writing and stuff.
I watched Adam's trailer today and it was absolutely astounding. The acting looks perfect, the shots are brilliant and, most importantly, the writing sounds incredible. Now I'm going to ruin all those nice things I said by saying I went straight from the trailer to taking a long look at the project I'm writing, and frankly, I'm not very happy with it at the moment. I don't know whether I think I'm too blunt or what, but I don't think my little jokes in it are enough to make it good writing. Maybe that's the hangover talking and tomorrow I'll crack out a few more pages and everything will be great, but maybe once again, I've come to a point in the process where I know I don't like it and I might just leave it.
So shit, way to blow a compliment to Adam and the gang, Ian. You guys really do blow me away.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Before I begin, I hope that the post I made like a week ago actually shows up now, which it hasn't since I made it, but whatever.
Yeah, things around here have been, well, hectic. I've been told numerous times in the last week that I look as if I'm a) sleep-deprived b) on the edge of a breakdown c) sad d) angry or e) any combination of the above. And the truth is, I have been all of those things at some point in the last week or so.
The show is looking great, but it's wearing on me as well. I realize it's wearing on everyone, but I always hated the outlook of "Stop bitching because we're all miserable too" because the fact is, it's my right to be miserable and if you are to, then I'll leave you alone and you leave me alone. Furthermore, I know it's stupid to bitch about work around georgetown students because there's always the guy who has more work than you, who tells you to shut up.
But at least my role is a lot of fun. My first costume looks like a well-dressed Newsie, my second costume is a tux, and my makeup is supposed to be reminiscent of a clown, which means that my cheeks, nose and lips are bright red, but blended so I just look drunk, which works with my character. The beard is getting pretty sketchy, especially matted down when I put makeup on. I can't wait till Halloween, so I can flaunt it and then lose it the next day. Don't worry though, I'll get a picture out to people somehow.
Classes are a mess. I just withdrew from my History class because it was just too advanced for me. I would never be able to devote my time to the 20 page paper with everything else going on. As you can imagine, that played hell with Ian's quitting complex, but the fact is, what am I proving to anyone by sticking with a history class I have no business being in? It ain't going nowhere. It's going fucking NOWHERE. Where's it going? NOWHERE!
I'm also trying to figure out study abroad at the same time. If I go, I'd end up in England for all of next year. I'm looking at Oxford and King's College in London. Either would be excellent and I love England, but then again, I'm not a very worldly person and I need to make sure it's something I want to do before I go. We'll see how it goes.
Otherwise, things are pretty normal.
Yeah, things around here have been, well, hectic. I've been told numerous times in the last week that I look as if I'm a) sleep-deprived b) on the edge of a breakdown c) sad d) angry or e) any combination of the above. And the truth is, I have been all of those things at some point in the last week or so.
The show is looking great, but it's wearing on me as well. I realize it's wearing on everyone, but I always hated the outlook of "Stop bitching because we're all miserable too" because the fact is, it's my right to be miserable and if you are to, then I'll leave you alone and you leave me alone. Furthermore, I know it's stupid to bitch about work around georgetown students because there's always the guy who has more work than you, who tells you to shut up.
But at least my role is a lot of fun. My first costume looks like a well-dressed Newsie, my second costume is a tux, and my makeup is supposed to be reminiscent of a clown, which means that my cheeks, nose and lips are bright red, but blended so I just look drunk, which works with my character. The beard is getting pretty sketchy, especially matted down when I put makeup on. I can't wait till Halloween, so I can flaunt it and then lose it the next day. Don't worry though, I'll get a picture out to people somehow.
Classes are a mess. I just withdrew from my History class because it was just too advanced for me. I would never be able to devote my time to the 20 page paper with everything else going on. As you can imagine, that played hell with Ian's quitting complex, but the fact is, what am I proving to anyone by sticking with a history class I have no business being in? It ain't going nowhere. It's going fucking NOWHERE. Where's it going? NOWHERE!
I'm also trying to figure out study abroad at the same time. If I go, I'd end up in England for all of next year. I'm looking at Oxford and King's College in London. Either would be excellent and I love England, but then again, I'm not a very worldly person and I need to make sure it's something I want to do before I go. We'll see how it goes.
Otherwise, things are pretty normal.
Monday, October 11, 2004
I really hate politics.
I've spent all of high school and the first year at Georgetown outside of political arguments. I hate them. I hate their passive-aggressive nature. I hate the way friends end up leaving a conversation angry. I hate how you're in one camp or the other and God forbid you debate issue by issue. I hate how people argue for hours knowing that no one is going to give up ground.
But nonetheless, I finally make a political decision and find myself in those arguments. You know that feeling, when the conversation turns political and suddenly it feels like work and that all the good laughs you were having a second ago are shot to hell because someone made a comment about getting their absentee ballot.
Today I got myself into one of those arguments over brunch with some friends. I hated it because I could've sat there for another thirty minutes just having fun, but about 5 minutes into the argument, I left angry, not so much because I thought everyone else was flat out wrong or anything, but because I had found myself in a position I hate being in. Whatever happened to personal politics? Now suddenly we're mad that our best friends aren't voting, or at least we're mad until they tell us that they're voting for Bush, and then it's fine that they're not voting. How is that ok? Yeah, I think my friend is great, but since he disagrees with me, I hope he doesn't voice his opinion. That's a beautiful sentiment. I wasn't planning on voting because I considered myself uninformed. I thought that was a mature decision, but I got flak for it nonetheless. Now I talk about voting and get pulled in even further. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can't get my absentee ballot anymore. Then this shitstorm will pass and maybe we can have 3 years or so of decent conversations.
But yeah, I really fuckin' hate politics.
I've spent all of high school and the first year at Georgetown outside of political arguments. I hate them. I hate their passive-aggressive nature. I hate the way friends end up leaving a conversation angry. I hate how you're in one camp or the other and God forbid you debate issue by issue. I hate how people argue for hours knowing that no one is going to give up ground.
But nonetheless, I finally make a political decision and find myself in those arguments. You know that feeling, when the conversation turns political and suddenly it feels like work and that all the good laughs you were having a second ago are shot to hell because someone made a comment about getting their absentee ballot.
Today I got myself into one of those arguments over brunch with some friends. I hated it because I could've sat there for another thirty minutes just having fun, but about 5 minutes into the argument, I left angry, not so much because I thought everyone else was flat out wrong or anything, but because I had found myself in a position I hate being in. Whatever happened to personal politics? Now suddenly we're mad that our best friends aren't voting, or at least we're mad until they tell us that they're voting for Bush, and then it's fine that they're not voting. How is that ok? Yeah, I think my friend is great, but since he disagrees with me, I hope he doesn't voice his opinion. That's a beautiful sentiment. I wasn't planning on voting because I considered myself uninformed. I thought that was a mature decision, but I got flak for it nonetheless. Now I talk about voting and get pulled in even further. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can't get my absentee ballot anymore. Then this shitstorm will pass and maybe we can have 3 years or so of decent conversations.
But yeah, I really fuckin' hate politics.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
So I'm sitting here on a patent Aerobed in the loft of my mom's new apartment, snarling at the floral print of my temporary bedsheets, and fighting sleep for a while. I spent most of the day trying to figure out just what it was about the move that was really getting to me. It's not leaving the old house. I don't think the old house thing hits you until later, when you're visiting friends and you drive past it "just for ole time's sake" and then become hopelessly emotional because the new owners changed the mailbox. And it's not that our new home is about 1/5 the size of our old one, or that my bed is made of air or that our living room furniture at the moment consists of two fold-out camping chairs with built-in cupholders. That's all fine, too.
I think what it really boils down to is that I don't feel like I have a home at all anymore. Despite spending months away at school last year, whenever I got back to Mossy Place, it still was home after a bit of ice-breaking. I still felt comfortable throwing myself onto the couch and popping a movie in. But this place will always be Mom's apartment, not mine. She'll get into a day-to-day relationship with it, the kind that I established back home and came back to this summer, but as for me, this place holds no comfort. It sucks, because I could never ask Mom to stay in GA for me. I realized that after my initial outburst at her for moving. I know this is supposed to be a time where I realize that who I am is not about where I live and that I can be myself without feeling I have a claim on some corner of the world.
But I don't want to.
I was reading my red envelope letters on the Metro today while riding to the end of the Green Line for Mom to pick me up. Part of me just needed some comfort, a slight ego-stroke and a rush of warmth which always comes with reading them. Another part of me was hoping that I could draw some sort of strength from them, that reading really nice things about myself would make me realize that it's all going to be ok. It was a temporary fix, but it still helped a little at the time. I love those letters. I'm always finding a sentence I had previously past over and that little blurb just kills me with the kind of sap that we all mock because we hate to admit how much we love it.
I'm worried that I'm gonna go WAY outta my way to go back to GA this summer, to try and pretend everything's alright and that it's all just a big sleepover at someone's house. Don't get me wrong: I WILL be coming to GA this summer. I just want to come to see everyone and have a good time and not to latch on to my hometown in some attempt to face the future with the help of the past.
In other news, I JUST WANNA FUCKING FIND SOME TIME TO WRITE.
Ahem...that is all.
I think what it really boils down to is that I don't feel like I have a home at all anymore. Despite spending months away at school last year, whenever I got back to Mossy Place, it still was home after a bit of ice-breaking. I still felt comfortable throwing myself onto the couch and popping a movie in. But this place will always be Mom's apartment, not mine. She'll get into a day-to-day relationship with it, the kind that I established back home and came back to this summer, but as for me, this place holds no comfort. It sucks, because I could never ask Mom to stay in GA for me. I realized that after my initial outburst at her for moving. I know this is supposed to be a time where I realize that who I am is not about where I live and that I can be myself without feeling I have a claim on some corner of the world.
But I don't want to.
I was reading my red envelope letters on the Metro today while riding to the end of the Green Line for Mom to pick me up. Part of me just needed some comfort, a slight ego-stroke and a rush of warmth which always comes with reading them. Another part of me was hoping that I could draw some sort of strength from them, that reading really nice things about myself would make me realize that it's all going to be ok. It was a temporary fix, but it still helped a little at the time. I love those letters. I'm always finding a sentence I had previously past over and that little blurb just kills me with the kind of sap that we all mock because we hate to admit how much we love it.
I'm worried that I'm gonna go WAY outta my way to go back to GA this summer, to try and pretend everything's alright and that it's all just a big sleepover at someone's house. Don't get me wrong: I WILL be coming to GA this summer. I just want to come to see everyone and have a good time and not to latch on to my hometown in some attempt to face the future with the help of the past.
In other news, I JUST WANNA FUCKING FIND SOME TIME TO WRITE.
Ahem...that is all.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Yep....
http://www.coldwellbankeratlanta.com/homes/detail.cfm?index=987405
Check out the "View vTour" to see lots of pics, including my old room, charmingly referred to as "Bedroom 3" I hope it knows it was always Bedroom 1 to me......riiiiiiiight. If you're really ambitious, look at the panoramic pics that require a little Java download to virtually stand in the middle of the old family room or the kitchen and virtually spin in circles while virtually wondering where all the furniture went.
http://www.coldwellbankeratlanta.com/homes/detail.cfm?index=987405
Check out the "View vTour" to see lots of pics, including my old room, charmingly referred to as "Bedroom 3" I hope it knows it was always Bedroom 1 to me......riiiiiiiight. If you're really ambitious, look at the panoramic pics that require a little Java download to virtually stand in the middle of the old family room or the kitchen and virtually spin in circles while virtually wondering where all the furniture went.
Monday, September 20, 2004
I've only started realizing the different feel to sophomore year. This weekend, James and I went up to study on Harbin patio, the big concrete patio in front of the dorm where all my friends lived last year. Something was seriously different from all the times the gang worked out there at a picnic table last year. Sure, you could argue that it's just weird to go work outside of a dorm you don't live in (although I actually never lived there last year), but there was something else to it as well. Last year, you'd only go out if you had a moderate amount of work to do. If you had a little work, you probably weren't worried about it yet. If you had a lot, the last place you needed to be was around other social people. But if you had that long yet marginally important reading to do over the next few days, Harbin patio was a good place to work in between the bursts of conversation. This year, it was painfully bright on the patio, not to mention the fact that I was nursing a bad hangover. So it wasn't quite as idyllic this time around. In general, the feel of this year lacks that spirit of freshman year. Sure, we're all a lot more established within friendships and organizations and maybe we have a better hold on where our lives are going, but something about last year definitely had that Keroauc feeling of "mañana". Everything could just slow down and wait. Kinda wish I could slow down now.
School this year lost that "pulling its punches" ease that some of the classes had to them (my apologies to anyone who had absolutely hellish freshman year classes). All of the sudden, the philosophy that has been ascribed to me here, that of the slacker who spends his afternoons watching movies while still turning in all his work, is failing me and I actually have to hunker down and work for hours for what seems like a small chunk of my workload. I was looking forward to coming back to school to break the monotony of the job this summer, but sometimes those long workdays don't seem so bad because when I was home, I was home and I didn't have to think about it until the next morning.
But every time I call home anyway, I hear about how another monstrous piece of furniture that had been a mainstay of my home had been taken off by one of mom's coworkers, how my room has been painted, how the realtor's sign is on the lawn. Will I have any right to be in Alpharetta when mom finally moves? I'd feel weird, even if I was staying with someone, just to drive over to North Point AMC or something. Mom's really distant on the phone now too, because she's always thinking about what else needs to be done in the house, a devotion that never seemed to exist whenever the house needed to be prepared for my friends to come over. I can't blame her, of course, but it's sad when your home is sort of moving on without you. Times like this are supposed to help you establish who you are, independent of your roots and your external connection and all that bullshit. I just want my house back.
So......yeah, I'm gonna go read about the fall of rome or something...
School this year lost that "pulling its punches" ease that some of the classes had to them (my apologies to anyone who had absolutely hellish freshman year classes). All of the sudden, the philosophy that has been ascribed to me here, that of the slacker who spends his afternoons watching movies while still turning in all his work, is failing me and I actually have to hunker down and work for hours for what seems like a small chunk of my workload. I was looking forward to coming back to school to break the monotony of the job this summer, but sometimes those long workdays don't seem so bad because when I was home, I was home and I didn't have to think about it until the next morning.
But every time I call home anyway, I hear about how another monstrous piece of furniture that had been a mainstay of my home had been taken off by one of mom's coworkers, how my room has been painted, how the realtor's sign is on the lawn. Will I have any right to be in Alpharetta when mom finally moves? I'd feel weird, even if I was staying with someone, just to drive over to North Point AMC or something. Mom's really distant on the phone now too, because she's always thinking about what else needs to be done in the house, a devotion that never seemed to exist whenever the house needed to be prepared for my friends to come over. I can't blame her, of course, but it's sad when your home is sort of moving on without you. Times like this are supposed to help you establish who you are, independent of your roots and your external connection and all that bullshit. I just want my house back.
So......yeah, I'm gonna go read about the fall of rome or something...
Monday, September 13, 2004
I got really tired of seeing that end of summer blog every time I opened my browser, so I figured I'll give a little Ian update, in snippets.
>>Classes are going well. I recommend that everyone go out and read some Christopher Marlowe. The man was brilliant and would be just as big as Shakespeare now (maybe bigger) had he not died in his prime. Math is really cool, but the little Mozart to my Salieri freshman is humbling at times. Guess humility isn't such a terrible thing.
>>Hanging out with the gang is great. We did ESPNZone last night and I screamed myself hoarse at the UGA game. When do I get the chance to root for what is, for all intents and purposes, the only good team I can root for semi-legitimately (and yes, we do have one here) while watching them play on a TV the size of a small trailer.
>>I got a part in the play Pygmalion with Nomadic Theater, the other theater group that I had not worked with yet. For anyone who knows of the play, I'm playing Doolittle, Eliza's cockney-speaking philosopher of a father. It's a nice part with some juicy monologues, but I've been condemned as turning my back on Mask and Bauble. Oh well, they'll get over it.
>>I miss everyone. A Lot. I know I haven't kept in touch with a lot of people so far and I mean to correct that soon, but I have yet to find that balance between school, shows, home, etc.
Ok, I need sleep like....oh sure why not...like whoa, so I'm going to turn in. Stay classy, kids.
>>Classes are going well. I recommend that everyone go out and read some Christopher Marlowe. The man was brilliant and would be just as big as Shakespeare now (maybe bigger) had he not died in his prime. Math is really cool, but the little Mozart to my Salieri freshman is humbling at times. Guess humility isn't such a terrible thing.
>>Hanging out with the gang is great. We did ESPNZone last night and I screamed myself hoarse at the UGA game. When do I get the chance to root for what is, for all intents and purposes, the only good team I can root for semi-legitimately (and yes, we do have one here) while watching them play on a TV the size of a small trailer.
>>I got a part in the play Pygmalion with Nomadic Theater, the other theater group that I had not worked with yet. For anyone who knows of the play, I'm playing Doolittle, Eliza's cockney-speaking philosopher of a father. It's a nice part with some juicy monologues, but I've been condemned as turning my back on Mask and Bauble. Oh well, they'll get over it.
>>I miss everyone. A Lot. I know I haven't kept in touch with a lot of people so far and I mean to correct that soon, but I have yet to find that balance between school, shows, home, etc.
Ok, I need sleep like....oh sure why not...like whoa, so I'm going to turn in. Stay classy, kids.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
So here we fly headlong into the next school year. It's been a crazy summer. I didn't want to do a recap because Jamie's really the greatest historian/sociologist of our group, but somehow, I feel like being the one of the last ones leaves me with not much else to do.
God, I'm surprised. Is anyone else? Not in a bad way at all. I came into it the same way I came into Spring Break. I was nervous to be around everyone again. I was wondering how the dynamic would work, if at all, if all we'd do is talk about drinking and how hammered we got in college. I know, I know, it's stupid to think that's how it was going to be, but you know, that was a big change for all of us. It's been done to death on the blogs ever since people started, but that's just because it was such a big shift. I didn't have the bonfire at Meghan's to remind me how things still were. I went into the Spring Break road trips scared out of my mind that all I'd find were people I didn't know anymore and that people would think the same of me. Months later, I came into this summer wondering how the hell all these people who were, for the most part, away from each other for so long could suddenly get back together and interact.
But after all the trivia nights, successful and shitty, the poker games, the movies, the Tech trips, the concerts, the Brusters runs and all the crazy randomly assembled events in between, it has been amazing. I think Jamie's right. This summer, no hangout was forced and I think we did manage some forced ones last year. Maybe we were scared that we'd never have the dynamic again or maybe we wanted something secure in the face of college anxiety. Whatever the case was then, this year, those fears having been painlessly assuaged, we just got together.
And thank God it wasn't just about thie drinking. All kidding aside and no matter how many times I'll still probably look back and wonder when I stopped making that stand, it's not like we've all stumbled drunkenly down the primrose path. Come on, now. And if we hadn't spent several nights together partying, then that might be some part of us that we left at college that we would be ashamed of around each other. Instead, we partied with people we probably trust more than anyone in the world and we take care of each other. And I think others will agree that we had fun. I know I have(Insert crazy Ian laugh).
For me, I think this summer is definitely something I'm going to love remembering as this year goes on. I'm trying to be open to new things in regards to the move, but when that doesn't do it, I at least have the knowledge that I made it work coming back this year and next year will be just as comfortable. Different, but comfortable. They say you can never go home again. I think to a degree that has been true. Every time you leave a place and come back, it's not the same. I'm sure some of you feel that way about school already, how it's not quite as imposing as when you got there last year. And I know we all felt it when we came home several months ago. So even if I was staying in Alpharetta, it would be different next summer. It's just going to be different in a different way...as much sense as that makes.
I had a thought today when I met Daniel Roach at Milton to film for a movie. Milton feels colder than ever now. It's bizarre to go there and I didn't even want to go inside. It has the air of one of those big supermarket storefronts that just closed down and stands completely empty. And they're still in school! Anyway, my thought was that I'm sort of glad that soon Milton will be gone and two new high schools will be running. Sure, it's sad that our high school, our Milton, won't be there to come back to, and maybe in twenty years, I'll wish I could walk its hallowed halls again. But has anyone gone back and really felt nostaglic? It's a different place for different people and yet I for one go back every so often hoping it offers something more. Maybe when there's nothing to go back to, it won't be such a letdown when it doesn't feel the same.
When Meghan and I were walking around Alpharetta High School a few nights ago, I said that it looked like something out of a movie. It really did too. In fact, it reminded me most of the high school from Saved! without all the Christian trimmings. It didn't look or feel like the high school experience we had. That depressed me a bit. For all the bitching about work and the lousy football and all the people we looked down our noses at, God, weren't we lucky?
This has become really stream of consciousness, but I just remembered something I wrote in my Friedman journal about wishing heaven would be a library filled with books of everyone's lives. I feel that because I do want to go back and experience high school again just as I experienced it, or maybe a little omnisciently or whatever. I just get the sense that each moment would be beautiful for what it is, and amazing in the perspective of everything else that happened before or has happened since. Like Senior Trip for instance or the road trips or things that happened at Georgetown, I'd just love to be in the settings again. I think that idea might make sense only to me, but I like that.
So anyway, as this is already FAR too long, I hope no one looks at this summer with regret or disappointment. I, for one, can't believe all that we squeezed in to it, and at the same time, I just can't believe it's been three months. I'll be back next summer, saying the same shit about my year at school, how quick it went and how fun it was. And you know I'm doing my best to stay in Alpharetta next summer for as long as possible, but I think if I find some crazy opportunity to follow a dream, I'm much more likely to seize it this coming summer than I would have been this year. I attribute that to the fact that, anywhere I go for any amount of time, I'll always be able to come back to you guys.
I love you all. Send me pictures, drop me e-mails, tell me stories, PAY ME VISITS, and just generally have a kick-ass year. I'll catch you on the flip side.
"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers."
God, I'm surprised. Is anyone else? Not in a bad way at all. I came into it the same way I came into Spring Break. I was nervous to be around everyone again. I was wondering how the dynamic would work, if at all, if all we'd do is talk about drinking and how hammered we got in college. I know, I know, it's stupid to think that's how it was going to be, but you know, that was a big change for all of us. It's been done to death on the blogs ever since people started, but that's just because it was such a big shift. I didn't have the bonfire at Meghan's to remind me how things still were. I went into the Spring Break road trips scared out of my mind that all I'd find were people I didn't know anymore and that people would think the same of me. Months later, I came into this summer wondering how the hell all these people who were, for the most part, away from each other for so long could suddenly get back together and interact.
But after all the trivia nights, successful and shitty, the poker games, the movies, the Tech trips, the concerts, the Brusters runs and all the crazy randomly assembled events in between, it has been amazing. I think Jamie's right. This summer, no hangout was forced and I think we did manage some forced ones last year. Maybe we were scared that we'd never have the dynamic again or maybe we wanted something secure in the face of college anxiety. Whatever the case was then, this year, those fears having been painlessly assuaged, we just got together.
And thank God it wasn't just about thie drinking. All kidding aside and no matter how many times I'll still probably look back and wonder when I stopped making that stand, it's not like we've all stumbled drunkenly down the primrose path. Come on, now. And if we hadn't spent several nights together partying, then that might be some part of us that we left at college that we would be ashamed of around each other. Instead, we partied with people we probably trust more than anyone in the world and we take care of each other. And I think others will agree that we had fun. I know I have(Insert crazy Ian laugh).
For me, I think this summer is definitely something I'm going to love remembering as this year goes on. I'm trying to be open to new things in regards to the move, but when that doesn't do it, I at least have the knowledge that I made it work coming back this year and next year will be just as comfortable. Different, but comfortable. They say you can never go home again. I think to a degree that has been true. Every time you leave a place and come back, it's not the same. I'm sure some of you feel that way about school already, how it's not quite as imposing as when you got there last year. And I know we all felt it when we came home several months ago. So even if I was staying in Alpharetta, it would be different next summer. It's just going to be different in a different way...as much sense as that makes.
I had a thought today when I met Daniel Roach at Milton to film for a movie. Milton feels colder than ever now. It's bizarre to go there and I didn't even want to go inside. It has the air of one of those big supermarket storefronts that just closed down and stands completely empty. And they're still in school! Anyway, my thought was that I'm sort of glad that soon Milton will be gone and two new high schools will be running. Sure, it's sad that our high school, our Milton, won't be there to come back to, and maybe in twenty years, I'll wish I could walk its hallowed halls again. But has anyone gone back and really felt nostaglic? It's a different place for different people and yet I for one go back every so often hoping it offers something more. Maybe when there's nothing to go back to, it won't be such a letdown when it doesn't feel the same.
When Meghan and I were walking around Alpharetta High School a few nights ago, I said that it looked like something out of a movie. It really did too. In fact, it reminded me most of the high school from Saved! without all the Christian trimmings. It didn't look or feel like the high school experience we had. That depressed me a bit. For all the bitching about work and the lousy football and all the people we looked down our noses at, God, weren't we lucky?
This has become really stream of consciousness, but I just remembered something I wrote in my Friedman journal about wishing heaven would be a library filled with books of everyone's lives. I feel that because I do want to go back and experience high school again just as I experienced it, or maybe a little omnisciently or whatever. I just get the sense that each moment would be beautiful for what it is, and amazing in the perspective of everything else that happened before or has happened since. Like Senior Trip for instance or the road trips or things that happened at Georgetown, I'd just love to be in the settings again. I think that idea might make sense only to me, but I like that.
So anyway, as this is already FAR too long, I hope no one looks at this summer with regret or disappointment. I, for one, can't believe all that we squeezed in to it, and at the same time, I just can't believe it's been three months. I'll be back next summer, saying the same shit about my year at school, how quick it went and how fun it was. And you know I'm doing my best to stay in Alpharetta next summer for as long as possible, but I think if I find some crazy opportunity to follow a dream, I'm much more likely to seize it this coming summer than I would have been this year. I attribute that to the fact that, anywhere I go for any amount of time, I'll always be able to come back to you guys.
I love you all. Send me pictures, drop me e-mails, tell me stories, PAY ME VISITS, and just generally have a kick-ass year. I'll catch you on the flip side.
"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers."
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Here's a big juicy WTF that was too good to pass up. I was assembling shit for school when I came across the handwritten journal I started on last year. Basically, it was a forum for the most honest things in my mind. Some of it was unnerving at times, but that was the point, it covered the stuff I wouldn't normally let myself think about or put on a blog or anything. Anyway, I looked up halfway through it and realized that the CD I was listening to, a gift from my friend Celeste that I had lost all summer until I found it today, was playing Dashboard's "The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most." That really weirded me out because I was definitely paging through the places I don't like to think about....so yeah.
Friday, August 06, 2004
So it's my last day here at Primerica. It's been a good last day so far. I particularly enjoyed when my boss came by and said, "Hey Ian, when are you leaving again?" When I informed him that this was in fact my last day, he said, "Oh, I didn't realize that. I guess we need to put together a quick..." I'm thinking, "don't say 'meeting in my office'" but sure enough he says party. So I have that to look forward to later this afternoon. Then, Grace, who I've been working with this last week, told me the stuff I helped her with is done for right now, so I can surf the net all day since it's my last day. So I grabbed a cup of ice water from the break room, sat back in my swivel chair and decided, for no particular reason, to crack open my blog archives.
I was amazed at some of the stuff I found. Throughout my little odyssey from the end of high school through the present, I relived things I'd forgotten about or had simply remembered in a simpler form. For instance, how could I forget my depiction of my graduation party? I got some weird looks in my cube for laughing at the "Timestamp" gimmick Sterling and I came up with whenever Mic and Kate convinced us to do something. I think we should bring that back. I also forgot all the early Georgetown blogs about alienation, loneliness, fear, loathing, Las Vegas, etc. It was really bizarre to go through it all. I mean, the last time I picked up my Friedman journals, I was sort of taken back, but part of me still hadn't left yet. Reading these, some as recent as May with my grandmother's funeral, I was taken aback. I got a real sense of change throughout the whole thing and it was definitely comforting to this whole first real job, moving away point in my life.
One thing I did notice, and I'm sure Kate will be the first to appreciate this, I can't believe how much I used "Ianish" from like Friedman's class to about mid-freshman year. Almost TOO much. I swear I wasn't trying then to be overly elaborate, I just wrote and I guess my internal monologue worked that way, but looking back, I almost feel ill at how complicated I made some of my words. So yes, sorry if I was ever intentionally obtuse ("What did you call me?" name that quote, y'all), but I guess I have a proclivity towards ornate language. You know how we do.
In other news, my horoscope today says to "close up shop and dance all night" Sounds good to me!
I was amazed at some of the stuff I found. Throughout my little odyssey from the end of high school through the present, I relived things I'd forgotten about or had simply remembered in a simpler form. For instance, how could I forget my depiction of my graduation party? I got some weird looks in my cube for laughing at the "Timestamp" gimmick Sterling and I came up with whenever Mic and Kate convinced us to do something. I think we should bring that back. I also forgot all the early Georgetown blogs about alienation, loneliness, fear, loathing, Las Vegas, etc. It was really bizarre to go through it all. I mean, the last time I picked up my Friedman journals, I was sort of taken back, but part of me still hadn't left yet. Reading these, some as recent as May with my grandmother's funeral, I was taken aback. I got a real sense of change throughout the whole thing and it was definitely comforting to this whole first real job, moving away point in my life.
One thing I did notice, and I'm sure Kate will be the first to appreciate this, I can't believe how much I used "Ianish" from like Friedman's class to about mid-freshman year. Almost TOO much. I swear I wasn't trying then to be overly elaborate, I just wrote and I guess my internal monologue worked that way, but looking back, I almost feel ill at how complicated I made some of my words. So yes, sorry if I was ever intentionally obtuse ("What did you call me?" name that quote, y'all), but I guess I have a proclivity towards ornate language. You know how we do.
In other news, my horoscope today says to "close up shop and dance all night" Sounds good to me!
Thursday, August 05, 2004
It happened for senior year. It happened for the first year of college. What in God's name is it happening for work? I've reached the end and I can't believe it. One day left after today, and all I can think is "Wow, that went fast." Feels like just yesterday I started bitching about it all (granted, I probably did bitch yesterday). Now that work's coming to a close, all I can think about now is having less than three weeks until I'm back in DC. Less than two weeks, if you take out next week's vacation, to spend time with the gang here at home. And of course, though I keep forgetting this part, only about ten days left in my home. Meaning that it's not just the summer ending, it's my childhood. I'm leaving the only house I can remember, besides those shadows of a staircase or a basement I have from when I was less than 3. It's always been, "Take a left into the Bluffs and I'm the big white house right in front of you." Now the only real roots I feel like I have are being torn up. Of course, just as Mom starts readying the house to sell do I recognize how nice all the rooms are and how I'd love to have only one more summer with no jobs or anything just to live there. Sure, people say I can crash at their houses next year, and that's awesome, but still, what am I gonna do when I come home from work one day and accidentally turn down my street? Check the mail of some stranger, see their name on the envelope and suddenly realize what I'm doing?
The other day, Mom found an old pad of paper Sam Brown and I used to play spies when we were kids. I had made diagrams of the street, how Sam's mom, dad and grandma were positioned on their deck. I even had a roster of the spies, Sam, myself and Max down the street with more empty slots for the 24 people I apparently expected to join us from out of nowhere. It was weird to see something from such a different time and it was even more bizarre to think that it's the same house now as it was then. I already did my green box story, so I'm not gonna go into what the street means to me now, but I do have a feeling that it's going to be hard to read that piece from now on. And I think we can all agree that Alpharetta's already changed and is going to keeping changing without us whether we like it or not. I guess like anyone, I just want more time with everything. You hear stories about people going back and buying their childhood homes, because they love the way it feels. I won't do that. The house itself is wonderful, but not what I'd want to live in for the rest of my life. By the time I buy a house of my own, I'll presumably be emotionally over leaving 203 Mossy Place. But that's the problem. I just don't want to be thinking about the rest of my life yet. I don't want to be thinking about the home I'm going to have, and it seemed like, as long as I would still be on Mossy Place, I wouldn't have to.
I've been thinking about that lately, since I've been thinking more about getting back to school, how being in Alpharetta feels like being in a place where time doesn't move, where life's not going ahead. At school, you're constantly bombarded by people and situations that change your life. You're thinking about your future, whether the newest girl is just a girlfriend or something a lot more serious, whether you should go for that money job or do that thing you always wanted. Here in Alpharetta, everything's reliable. Sure, that sometimes meant reliably boring as all hell. But I guess it was nice not to think about the future all that much. Trouble is, I was enjoying the present, smelling the roses, taking it all in this entire summer and I'm still at the end of it, shaking my head.
Man...
I get the feeling that some day, far into the future hopefully, when I pass away quietly in my sleep and before heading off to whatever afterlife lies in store, I'll be standing over my bed saying, "Wow, that went fast."
The other day, Mom found an old pad of paper Sam Brown and I used to play spies when we were kids. I had made diagrams of the street, how Sam's mom, dad and grandma were positioned on their deck. I even had a roster of the spies, Sam, myself and Max down the street with more empty slots for the 24 people I apparently expected to join us from out of nowhere. It was weird to see something from such a different time and it was even more bizarre to think that it's the same house now as it was then. I already did my green box story, so I'm not gonna go into what the street means to me now, but I do have a feeling that it's going to be hard to read that piece from now on. And I think we can all agree that Alpharetta's already changed and is going to keeping changing without us whether we like it or not. I guess like anyone, I just want more time with everything. You hear stories about people going back and buying their childhood homes, because they love the way it feels. I won't do that. The house itself is wonderful, but not what I'd want to live in for the rest of my life. By the time I buy a house of my own, I'll presumably be emotionally over leaving 203 Mossy Place. But that's the problem. I just don't want to be thinking about the rest of my life yet. I don't want to be thinking about the home I'm going to have, and it seemed like, as long as I would still be on Mossy Place, I wouldn't have to.
I've been thinking about that lately, since I've been thinking more about getting back to school, how being in Alpharetta feels like being in a place where time doesn't move, where life's not going ahead. At school, you're constantly bombarded by people and situations that change your life. You're thinking about your future, whether the newest girl is just a girlfriend or something a lot more serious, whether you should go for that money job or do that thing you always wanted. Here in Alpharetta, everything's reliable. Sure, that sometimes meant reliably boring as all hell. But I guess it was nice not to think about the future all that much. Trouble is, I was enjoying the present, smelling the roses, taking it all in this entire summer and I'm still at the end of it, shaking my head.
Man...
I get the feeling that some day, far into the future hopefully, when I pass away quietly in my sleep and before heading off to whatever afterlife lies in store, I'll be standing over my bed saying, "Wow, that went fast."
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Mark (one of my bosses): "Who is printing all of this stuff?"
Me: "Oh, that's me."
Mark: "What is all that?"
Me: "Oh, just the records of all the people whose information is screwed up. That's the kind of job we interns get to work on. I've done thousands of these."
Mark: "Oh, right...Well, you see, we get bonuses based on how much crap work we can come up with for the interns."
Me: "Well, then you're getting very big bonuses this year."
Best part is, Mark just laughed. Nothing like working for a company where you can bitch TO your bosses.
Me: "Oh, that's me."
Mark: "What is all that?"
Me: "Oh, just the records of all the people whose information is screwed up. That's the kind of job we interns get to work on. I've done thousands of these."
Mark: "Oh, right...Well, you see, we get bonuses based on how much crap work we can come up with for the interns."
Me: "Well, then you're getting very big bonuses this year."
Best part is, Mark just laughed. Nothing like working for a company where you can bitch TO your bosses.
Monday, August 02, 2004
I think I'm gonna stop with the WTF's. I think actually noting each one is ruining the actual experience of "Wow, did that really happen?" and besides, it can't be that interesting to anyone but me. SO, I don't really know where to go from here.
It was a lazy weekend. Friday was fun. Actually, I was thinking, when you live in Metro ATL, there are some things you're just expected to have done. Some things, like visiting the World of Coke, I've done so much I could name every crappy Cambodian ginger soda they have in the International section. However, I saw the Stone Mtn. laser show for the first time this summer. Friday night was the first time I actually heard a Collective Soul song (or at least KNEW it was a Collective Soul song). IT was also the first time I've ever had an F.O. at the Varsity. Lord, how have I lived without that cold orangey goodness? I told Joe I felt like the baseball team in the Adventures of Pete and Pete, with the Orange Julius guy.
I watched a lot of movies this weekend, Bourne Identity, Secret Window, a Few Good Men. Ok, so 3 movies, respectively one I'd seen but couldn't remember (ironically enough), one I'd never seen but bought anyway, and one that I think everyone NEEDS to see before they die.
Bourne Identity is so good, making Matt Damon once again one of the greatest actors ever. You might say, "But Ian, all he does is beat up on some embassy guards," but it's not that. I just can't think of a line that he fudges, you know? Then again, I didn't see All the Pretty Horses or Bagger Vance.
Secret Window was good as well. Depp did a great job, but I saw the ending way too early. I still think for something as often done as...well, if you've seen the movie, you know the gimmick...Secret Window REALLY put together an amazing scene with Mort and Shooter and the hat, etc. And when I watched the special features, the director explained some of the shots and I was amazed that I actually appreciated the film more. Usually I think that if I don't get it from the movie straight-up, then the director didn't bring it across well, but I just missed some key shots. Probably too busy reorganizing the binders (and not autobiographically).
A Few Good Men. What can you say, am I right? God, it's so freakin' amazing to watch. I almost wish I was old enough to have done the play before the movie came out, because doing it now would be so hard. Reiner, Sorkin, Nicholson, Cruise, everyone just was on their game and made a masterpiece. I would have loved to have done it on stage and then had that movie just blow our version out of the water, just for a chance at that wonderful writing. People joke all the time about "You can't handle the truth," but when you see that scene, see Nicholson just rip into Tom Cruise and Cruise just ripping right back, it just blows your mind. Being the special feature junkie that I am, I found out that they shot Jack's monologue about 8 times to do reactions from Tom, Demi, Kevin Pollack, Kevin Bacon, the jury, the accused, etc. EVERY TIME Jack Nicholson gave it his all. He was off camera every time but the last one and he still belted it. When Rob Reiner told him to save some for his screen time, Nicholson said that he was an actor, that he loved to act and that he'd never get the chance to work with material like that again. That's just the coolest story ever. So yeah, love that movie.
"Thanks for playing Should We or Should We Not Follow the Advice of the GALACTICALLY STUPID!!!"
Awesomeness.
PS: One last WTF, my mom had an interview today with a Bill Kronan in New York. (see below)
PPS: Oh, lord, I just ran an insurance application and the guy filled out his wife's name and under "relationship to the insured" put "Wife ('Play mate')" Ok, now there is a time and place for innuendo, but I'm pretty damn sure your INSURANCE APPLICATION is not one of them.
It was a lazy weekend. Friday was fun. Actually, I was thinking, when you live in Metro ATL, there are some things you're just expected to have done. Some things, like visiting the World of Coke, I've done so much I could name every crappy Cambodian ginger soda they have in the International section. However, I saw the Stone Mtn. laser show for the first time this summer. Friday night was the first time I actually heard a Collective Soul song (or at least KNEW it was a Collective Soul song). IT was also the first time I've ever had an F.O. at the Varsity. Lord, how have I lived without that cold orangey goodness? I told Joe I felt like the baseball team in the Adventures of Pete and Pete, with the Orange Julius guy.
I watched a lot of movies this weekend, Bourne Identity, Secret Window, a Few Good Men. Ok, so 3 movies, respectively one I'd seen but couldn't remember (ironically enough), one I'd never seen but bought anyway, and one that I think everyone NEEDS to see before they die.
Bourne Identity is so good, making Matt Damon once again one of the greatest actors ever. You might say, "But Ian, all he does is beat up on some embassy guards," but it's not that. I just can't think of a line that he fudges, you know? Then again, I didn't see All the Pretty Horses or Bagger Vance.
Secret Window was good as well. Depp did a great job, but I saw the ending way too early. I still think for something as often done as...well, if you've seen the movie, you know the gimmick...Secret Window REALLY put together an amazing scene with Mort and Shooter and the hat, etc. And when I watched the special features, the director explained some of the shots and I was amazed that I actually appreciated the film more. Usually I think that if I don't get it from the movie straight-up, then the director didn't bring it across well, but I just missed some key shots. Probably too busy reorganizing the binders (and not autobiographically).
A Few Good Men. What can you say, am I right? God, it's so freakin' amazing to watch. I almost wish I was old enough to have done the play before the movie came out, because doing it now would be so hard. Reiner, Sorkin, Nicholson, Cruise, everyone just was on their game and made a masterpiece. I would have loved to have done it on stage and then had that movie just blow our version out of the water, just for a chance at that wonderful writing. People joke all the time about "You can't handle the truth," but when you see that scene, see Nicholson just rip into Tom Cruise and Cruise just ripping right back, it just blows your mind. Being the special feature junkie that I am, I found out that they shot Jack's monologue about 8 times to do reactions from Tom, Demi, Kevin Pollack, Kevin Bacon, the jury, the accused, etc. EVERY TIME Jack Nicholson gave it his all. He was off camera every time but the last one and he still belted it. When Rob Reiner told him to save some for his screen time, Nicholson said that he was an actor, that he loved to act and that he'd never get the chance to work with material like that again. That's just the coolest story ever. So yeah, love that movie.
"Thanks for playing Should We or Should We Not Follow the Advice of the GALACTICALLY STUPID!!!"
Awesomeness.
PS: One last WTF, my mom had an interview today with a Bill Kronan in New York. (see below)
PPS: Oh, lord, I just ran an insurance application and the guy filled out his wife's name and under "relationship to the insured" put "Wife ('Play mate')" Ok, now there is a time and place for innuendo, but I'm pretty damn sure your INSURANCE APPLICATION is not one of them.
Friday, July 30, 2004
WTF's of the Day(Friday)
Unfortunately, yesterday's WTF's weren't as interesting as others, but here's what we scraped together.
- Ok, this one was segmented. I finished watching Hellboy last night (Verdict: Women won't get it, guys should see it for Ron Perlman's performance, but otherwise, eh....) Anyway, there's this villain in the film named Karl Kroenan. He's the guy in the previews with the freakish spinning knives on his arms (his scenes are pretty sweet too). Anyway, today, I'm starting on this stack of policies I have to go through and the first name is Dennis P. Cronin. Weird, I think, but not VERY weird. So about an hour later, I'm about to go to lunch and I open my desk to get my bag, where I find a huge stack of policies I went through several days ago. The first name on the list? Jacqueline A. Cronyn. That one rocked my world.
Unfortunately, yesterday's WTF's weren't as interesting as others, but here's what we scraped together.
- During our quest for mini-golf last night, NSync came on the satellite radio with "Bye Bye Bye" (Man, that's old now. Can you imagine those guys doing like a huge Rolling Stones size tour when they're like 40? Yeah, me neither) Anyway, everyone in the car began dancing, particularly Kate and I in the front. I even sacrificed the entirety of my self-respect and did that little waving arm thing from the video........*shudder*. Anyhow, when mini-golf got rained out, we went to Champps for some Karaoke (except the bastards wouldn't let us get up and do it because you have to be 21, which makes no sense). While Joe and I were looking through the songbook, Joe pointed out "Bye Bye Bye" under Nsync's name. The pros of this one are that Joe wasn't in the car when we sang Bye Bye Bye and it was like the only Nsync song the book had. The cons are that it was a big book of song titles and the chances of seeing a song you just heard were pretty good. So all in all, I've seen better.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
WTF's of the Day (Wednesday)
- So Joe and I are in the Johnsons' kitchen (like ya do) and Kate was telling us about how, when she was at the national tournament this past week, her bedmate had some gas issues. First, let it be known that female gas would normally not be acknowledged as a phenomenon, but this is in the interest of crackpot science. And we're talking, and Joe and I explain the term Dutch Oven, which, and I'm really sorry about this, everyone, is the act of expelling gas underneath sheets. So anyway, we go upstairs, turn on Sex and the City, and, sure enough, Carrie is freaking out about farting in Mr. Big's bed. Weirded out.
- So we see a commercial for Tomb Raider and Joe and I flip out because they show that scene where she shoots the monkey that SO blatantly ripped off Raiders of the Lost Ark. So we talk about how the 3rd Indy movie is the best, then the first, then the second. And we go on to talk about how, when you're young, you like Return of the Jedi and find Empire Strikes Back too long and wordy, but when you're older, Empire is the masterpiece of the series........ANYWHO, so Katie says, "But the third one has the Ewoks!" and then I recalled at lunch being incredibly surprised to find the word Ewoks in my daily crossword. I mean, it's not like you talk about Ewoks everyday, unless you're Lucas, or perhaps Warwick Davis....anyone know who that is?
And, if you think these things aren't really that freaky, then you should know that I too sort of lose my amazement when I type them out, so let's all have a moment of silence for my fading imagination.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
WTF's of the Day
- I was listening to Linkin Park's "Points of Authority" last week and thought up an action sequence where people are hiding in a sewer and then blow off the manhole and start attacking from the sewer. In this daydream/movie idea, the manhole went flying through the air and ends up crashing on someone. While in Barnes & Noble today, scouring the front racks for a fun book, I came across a funny book filled with things you never knew you had to worry about. Anyway, one of the sample things on the back was "Did you ever know you could be killed by a flying manhole?"
- This weekend, we had a conversation with Hanley about lyrics that people got wrong (I love Hanley's version of "Groovin'" with "Life could be ecstasy, you and me and Leslie" instead of "endlessly"). Anyway, today in Barnes & Noble again, right next to the Paranoia book mentioned above, there was a whole book of misheard lyrics called He's got the Whole World in his Pants. Not only that, but Dobie Gray's "Drift Away" (see yesterday) was in it for "Give me the Beach Boys and free my soul."
- Isn't it wonderful that I find a paranoia book while I'm keeping track of all these coincidences? I think so.
- I just realized that the misheard lyrics book also has "Afternoon Delight" which Joe, Chris and I broke into several times over the weekend. "Pineapples in flight, afternoon delight".
I guess I could go through the book forever and come across tons of songs I heard recently, so it's a stretch, but it was still one of those body shiver moments.
Monday, July 26, 2004
So, I don't know if anyone's still checking this, but here they are, the Road Trip Quotes of the trip to Flat Rock, NC to see Hanley Smith in Beauty and the Beast (She was fabulous, by the by). Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Ian, Joe, Meghan and Chris (or Kramer, since I can't help but flip back and forth).
In the car...
Ian: "Hey, Chris, remember when you were talking to me on AIM about the letter Meghan wrote to you and you typed that it was 'wonderfuk'?
Kramer: "Oh yeah! That was funny!"
Joe: "Wonderfuk sounds like it should mean something..."
Meghan: "Yeah, it really does. Well, maybe it means like 'awesomely bad'"
Joe: "Yeah, like, 'How was your day?' 'Oh, god, it was wonderfuk'"
Ian: "Alright, 'Walk this Way' guitar solo!"
Ian speeds up along the small mountain highway
Kramer: "How're we doin'?"
Ian: "115!"
Joe: "Isn't this a 60?"
Ian: "Yeah it is!"
Meghan: "GUYS! This is license revoking material!!!"
Meghan (lunging for Chris in the backseat): "OW!"
Ian: "What?"
Meghan: "Wow, that's some child safety lock on these seatbelts."
Ian: "Look, it's an arts center. You can tell because the sign is made up of arty stuff."
Joe: "Or a fruity center, by that logic."
Meghan: "'Doughboys and Doughnuts!"
Ian: "That's 'Doughboy's Doughnuts'! DAMN IT, MEGHAN!"
Ian: "I've gotta find somewhere to plark"
Joe: "Did you say 'plark'?"
Kramer: "Haha, where can we plark?"
Ian: "Plark!"
Meghan: "Gotta kerplark!"
Ian: "DAMN IT, MEGHAN! It's PLARK! Not Kerplark! Plark!"
Ian: "Meghan, get in your corner."
Meghan: "But we're in a car. We all have corn-"
Ian: "MEGHAN!"
Meghan (to Ian) : "Bitch!"
Ian: "Meghan! Do not call me a bitch!...I'm male, call me a bastard."
Ian (repeated line): "Poor Meghan!"
Kramer (for some stupid reason after we picked up flowers for Han): "Meghan, how long has it been since I gave you flowers?"
Meghan: "A long, long time, Chris."
Kramer: "Yeah, it was like Valentine's Day or something."
Meghan: "Yeah."
--seconds pass--
Kramer: "Well, maybe if YOU-"
Ian: "KRAMER! STOP! Do NOT finish that sentence!"
Joe (looking at a license place that says "RICEUNIV"): "Wonder where THEY go"
Ian: "Hey, how do you know it's not Riceun the fourth? LORD Riceun IV! I am Lord Riceun IV! WORSHIP ME!"
Sign in Hendersonville: "If you SEEN the accident on this corner on 07/19/2004, please call this number" (The accident, by the way, was apparently between a black Durango and a semi. Man, I wish I did seen that).
Ian: "Hey, look, a Kudzu tree penis!"
Meghan: "Ian! Gross!"
Ian (as we drive past tons of Kudzu): "Oh, GOD, they're EVERYWHERE!"
Everyone: "AHHHHH!"
Meghan (to Ian): "You flick that wrist!"
Ian: "Watch out, those cookies smell pretty strong."
Kramer: "Oh, wow, yeah they do"
Joe: "Yeah, I can smell that up here."
Ian: "Yeah, they're definitely the 151 of cookies."
Ian (holding an empty 32 ounce BP soda): "Wow, guess I was thirsty."
Meghan: "Ian, we left the gas station like ten minutes ago."
Joe: "Turn here"
Ian: "But that's 185. We want 85"
Joe: "It's gonna take us TO 85"
Chris: "285? That's nowhere near here"
Joe: "Not 285, TO 85, we're going TO 85!"
Meghan: "But you have to get on 85 to get to 285"
Ian: "And we're on 185"
Joe: "Which goes TO 85, which you can use to get to 285"
Meghan: "But we don't need to get on 285! We need to get TO 85!"
Kramer: "THIRD BASE!"
Around town...
Ian: "Wow, I think we gave that waitress a really good tip"
Joe: "Eh, she just broke up with her boyfriend. She deserves it."
Ian: "What do you think we would have done if we'd grown up in a town like this?"
Joe: "Started drinking earlier."
Joe (to our hostess at a diner) : "See you later!"
--outside, a second later--
Joe: "What am I saying? I'll never see her again."
Joe: "I want a picture of the Burly Bear violating me"
Ian (in the Irish Pub) : "God, the one time in my life I can actually do simple math without screwing it up and I'm wasting it on a darts game!"
Ian: "Hey, guys, this ice cream place is 'Open Late' to 10 o'clock."
At Flat Rock Playhouse...
Meghan (after Ian said something disparaging yet forgettable): Ian!!
Meghan jumps on Ian's back. Ian then grabs a leg, lifts her up and dangles her over the floor
Ian: "Now, what have we learned?"
Meghan: "Um, not to go anywhere near your general back area."
Ian: "Good"
Ian: "I guess I'm just romantic sometimes"
Meghan: "It's nice to be romantic sometimes though...AHEM"
Kramer (singing): "I'm not listening!"
Joe (referring to the Playgirl in the girls' dorm) : "I mean, that one guy really didn't have much to be proud of"
Ian: "Yeah, you figure if your member is going to be seen by millions of women and gay men, you'd want to have something to show for it."
Joe: "Well, more like millions of gay men and a handful of women."
Kramer (looking at a Playboy): "Oh sweet, check this out!"
--shows the page to Ian--
Ian: "Dude, that's a car!"
Kramer: "It's a Murcialago!" (spelled wrong, I'm sure)
Joe: "That's not what Playboy is for!"
Joe (as we walk on a massive flat rock formation in front of the playhouse): "So, is this the flat rock of Flat Rock Playhouse?"
Hanley: "Yes, Joe, it is. How observant of you!"
Ian: "Hey, we were all thinkin' it"
BONUS CRANIUM GAME SECTION!
Cameo clue: Hormones
Kramer acting out pheremones
Joe: "Pheremones!"
Kramer indicates horns
Joe: "Horny Pheremones! Horny Pheremones!"
Sculptorades clue: Lego
Chris Brown makes a near-perfect 3X2 Lego block out of the Cranium Clay
Meghan: "Car? People? Dots?"
Chris Brown makes a smaller block and puts it on the other one
Meghan: "Lego!"
Ian: "Weird how you need to see the building process to truly understand Lego"
Copycat clue: Winston Churchill
Liz: "Ok, I think I'm a poet...my first name sounds like the coldest season and my last name sounds like a place to worship"
Copycat clue: Clint Eastwood
Liz: "My first name sounds like the president that cheated on his wife and my last name is a direction and what trees are made of"
Ian: "Westwood! Westwood? Oh, Clint Eastwood!"
Copycat clue: Bullwinkle
Ian (in Bulwinkle voice and hands for antlers) : "Hey!"
Liz: "Bullwinkle!"
Ian: "Well, that was easy!"
Cameo clue: Gone with the Wind
Chris Brown (as he sweeps his hand away from the table) : "Whoosh!"
Meghan: "Gone with the Wind!"
Chris Brown: "Yes!"
Kramer: "Are you kidding me?!"
Cameo Clue: Washboard Abs
Hanley: "And go!"
Kramer rips off his shirt and starts rubbing it down his abs.
Joe: "Washboard!"
Kramer nods and points at his abs.
Joe: "Abs! Washboard Abs!"
Kramer: "Yes!"
Ian: "Kramer, you cocky bastard!"
Cameo clue: Greenhouse
Joe points to the green side of the board
Kramer: "Star! Board! Cards!"
Joe picks up the box of green cards and indicates the side
Kramer: "Rub! Side! Box!"
Joe starts pointing to every green space on the board
Kramer: "Space! Board?"
Joe starts looking frantically around the room for green things
Kramer: "Searching!"
Joe gives up and makes a house with his hands
Kramer: "House!"
Joe nods happily and starts pointing at the board again
Kramer: "Board House! Game House!"
Liz gives Joe a green hair tie. Joe violently gestures at the hair tie and every green space on the board
Kramer: "Hair tie! Rubber band! Space! What?!"
Ian points to a potted tree. Joe points to the tree frantically
Kramer: "Tree? Treehouse! No? Bush! Plant!"
Hanley: "Time!"
Ian: "Chris, you just failed the first grade."
And that's what I have for now, but I'll keep adding more at the bottom of each section, because I know there are more. I have to check with the others.
And in my other new Blog section, I am keeping track of all of the really off-the-wall coincidences that happen to me all the time. Meghan thinks that I'm just noticing them more and that, statistically, I'm just not noticing all the times that coincidental things do not happen. However, my coincidences pop up REALLY frequently, so I feel like keeping track.
1. Saturday night, after Kramer and Joe couldn't get the clue "Edsel" when the hint was "Ford Failure," we explained the Edsel as a car that sucked when it came out. In today's crossword, there was a clue "Ford flop" and the answer, of course, was Edsel.
2. Today, I was listening to the small CD I made for Senior Prom and usually I just skim it, listen to "Old Time Rock and Roll" and "The Remedy" and then go to the next CD. Today, however, I stopped on "Drift Away" and sang along with that on the way to work. Today, during lunch, after my crossword was done, I was looking at the celebrity birthdays and sure enough, Dobie Gray (who originally sang "Drift Away" and joins Uncle Kracker in the cover) was born today. I didn't even put the CD in in the first place; Joe put it in during the ride home.
I'm sure these will get boring for everyone else, but tough noogies.
Later!
In the car...
Ian: "Hey, Chris, remember when you were talking to me on AIM about the letter Meghan wrote to you and you typed that it was 'wonderfuk'?
Kramer: "Oh yeah! That was funny!"
Joe: "Wonderfuk sounds like it should mean something..."
Meghan: "Yeah, it really does. Well, maybe it means like 'awesomely bad'"
Joe: "Yeah, like, 'How was your day?' 'Oh, god, it was wonderfuk'"
Ian: "Alright, 'Walk this Way' guitar solo!"
Ian speeds up along the small mountain highway
Kramer: "How're we doin'?"
Ian: "115!"
Joe: "Isn't this a 60?"
Ian: "Yeah it is!"
Meghan: "GUYS! This is license revoking material!!!"
Meghan (lunging for Chris in the backseat): "OW!"
Ian: "What?"
Meghan: "Wow, that's some child safety lock on these seatbelts."
Ian: "Look, it's an arts center. You can tell because the sign is made up of arty stuff."
Joe: "Or a fruity center, by that logic."
Meghan: "'Doughboys and Doughnuts!"
Ian: "That's 'Doughboy's Doughnuts'! DAMN IT, MEGHAN!"
Ian: "I've gotta find somewhere to plark"
Joe: "Did you say 'plark'?"
Kramer: "Haha, where can we plark?"
Ian: "Plark!"
Meghan: "Gotta kerplark!"
Ian: "DAMN IT, MEGHAN! It's PLARK! Not Kerplark! Plark!"
Ian: "Meghan, get in your corner."
Meghan: "But we're in a car. We all have corn-"
Ian: "MEGHAN!"
Meghan (to Ian) : "Bitch!"
Ian: "Meghan! Do not call me a bitch!...I'm male, call me a bastard."
Ian (repeated line): "Poor Meghan!"
Kramer (for some stupid reason after we picked up flowers for Han): "Meghan, how long has it been since I gave you flowers?"
Meghan: "A long, long time, Chris."
Kramer: "Yeah, it was like Valentine's Day or something."
Meghan: "Yeah."
--seconds pass--
Kramer: "Well, maybe if YOU-"
Ian: "KRAMER! STOP! Do NOT finish that sentence!"
Joe (looking at a license place that says "RICEUNIV"): "Wonder where THEY go"
Ian: "Hey, how do you know it's not Riceun the fourth? LORD Riceun IV! I am Lord Riceun IV! WORSHIP ME!"
Sign in Hendersonville: "If you SEEN the accident on this corner on 07/19/2004, please call this number" (The accident, by the way, was apparently between a black Durango and a semi. Man, I wish I did seen that).
Ian: "Hey, look, a Kudzu tree penis!"
Meghan: "Ian! Gross!"
Ian (as we drive past tons of Kudzu): "Oh, GOD, they're EVERYWHERE!"
Everyone: "AHHHHH!"
Meghan (to Ian): "You flick that wrist!"
Ian: "Watch out, those cookies smell pretty strong."
Kramer: "Oh, wow, yeah they do"
Joe: "Yeah, I can smell that up here."
Ian: "Yeah, they're definitely the 151 of cookies."
Ian (holding an empty 32 ounce BP soda): "Wow, guess I was thirsty."
Meghan: "Ian, we left the gas station like ten minutes ago."
Joe: "Turn here"
Ian: "But that's 185. We want 85"
Joe: "It's gonna take us TO 85"
Chris: "285? That's nowhere near here"
Joe: "Not 285, TO 85, we're going TO 85!"
Meghan: "But you have to get on 85 to get to 285"
Ian: "And we're on 185"
Joe: "Which goes TO 85, which you can use to get to 285"
Meghan: "But we don't need to get on 285! We need to get TO 85!"
Kramer: "THIRD BASE!"
Around town...
Ian: "Wow, I think we gave that waitress a really good tip"
Joe: "Eh, she just broke up with her boyfriend. She deserves it."
Ian: "What do you think we would have done if we'd grown up in a town like this?"
Joe: "Started drinking earlier."
Joe (to our hostess at a diner) : "See you later!"
--outside, a second later--
Joe: "What am I saying? I'll never see her again."
Joe: "I want a picture of the Burly Bear violating me"
Ian (in the Irish Pub) : "God, the one time in my life I can actually do simple math without screwing it up and I'm wasting it on a darts game!"
Ian: "Hey, guys, this ice cream place is 'Open Late' to 10 o'clock."
At Flat Rock Playhouse...
Meghan (after Ian said something disparaging yet forgettable): Ian!!
Meghan jumps on Ian's back. Ian then grabs a leg, lifts her up and dangles her over the floor
Ian: "Now, what have we learned?"
Meghan: "Um, not to go anywhere near your general back area."
Ian: "Good"
Ian: "I guess I'm just romantic sometimes"
Meghan: "It's nice to be romantic sometimes though...AHEM"
Kramer (singing): "I'm not listening!"
Joe (referring to the Playgirl in the girls' dorm) : "I mean, that one guy really didn't have much to be proud of"
Ian: "Yeah, you figure if your member is going to be seen by millions of women and gay men, you'd want to have something to show for it."
Joe: "Well, more like millions of gay men and a handful of women."
Kramer (looking at a Playboy): "Oh sweet, check this out!"
--shows the page to Ian--
Ian: "Dude, that's a car!"
Kramer: "It's a Murcialago!" (spelled wrong, I'm sure)
Joe: "That's not what Playboy is for!"
Joe (as we walk on a massive flat rock formation in front of the playhouse): "So, is this the flat rock of Flat Rock Playhouse?"
Hanley: "Yes, Joe, it is. How observant of you!"
Ian: "Hey, we were all thinkin' it"
BONUS CRANIUM GAME SECTION!
Cameo clue: Hormones
Kramer acting out pheremones
Joe: "Pheremones!"
Kramer indicates horns
Joe: "Horny Pheremones! Horny Pheremones!"
Sculptorades clue: Lego
Chris Brown makes a near-perfect 3X2 Lego block out of the Cranium Clay
Meghan: "Car? People? Dots?"
Chris Brown makes a smaller block and puts it on the other one
Meghan: "Lego!"
Ian: "Weird how you need to see the building process to truly understand Lego"
Copycat clue: Winston Churchill
Liz: "Ok, I think I'm a poet...my first name sounds like the coldest season and my last name sounds like a place to worship"
Copycat clue: Clint Eastwood
Liz: "My first name sounds like the president that cheated on his wife and my last name is a direction and what trees are made of"
Ian: "Westwood! Westwood? Oh, Clint Eastwood!"
Copycat clue: Bullwinkle
Ian (in Bulwinkle voice and hands for antlers) : "Hey!"
Liz: "Bullwinkle!"
Ian: "Well, that was easy!"
Cameo clue: Gone with the Wind
Chris Brown (as he sweeps his hand away from the table) : "Whoosh!"
Meghan: "Gone with the Wind!"
Chris Brown: "Yes!"
Kramer: "Are you kidding me?!"
Cameo Clue: Washboard Abs
Hanley: "And go!"
Kramer rips off his shirt and starts rubbing it down his abs.
Joe: "Washboard!"
Kramer nods and points at his abs.
Joe: "Abs! Washboard Abs!"
Kramer: "Yes!"
Ian: "Kramer, you cocky bastard!"
Cameo clue: Greenhouse
Joe points to the green side of the board
Kramer: "Star! Board! Cards!"
Joe picks up the box of green cards and indicates the side
Kramer: "Rub! Side! Box!"
Joe starts pointing to every green space on the board
Kramer: "Space! Board?"
Joe starts looking frantically around the room for green things
Kramer: "Searching!"
Joe gives up and makes a house with his hands
Kramer: "House!"
Joe nods happily and starts pointing at the board again
Kramer: "Board House! Game House!"
Liz gives Joe a green hair tie. Joe violently gestures at the hair tie and every green space on the board
Kramer: "Hair tie! Rubber band! Space! What?!"
Ian points to a potted tree. Joe points to the tree frantically
Kramer: "Tree? Treehouse! No? Bush! Plant!"
Hanley: "Time!"
Ian: "Chris, you just failed the first grade."
And that's what I have for now, but I'll keep adding more at the bottom of each section, because I know there are more. I have to check with the others.
And in my other new Blog section, I am keeping track of all of the really off-the-wall coincidences that happen to me all the time. Meghan thinks that I'm just noticing them more and that, statistically, I'm just not noticing all the times that coincidental things do not happen. However, my coincidences pop up REALLY frequently, so I feel like keeping track.
1. Saturday night, after Kramer and Joe couldn't get the clue "Edsel" when the hint was "Ford Failure," we explained the Edsel as a car that sucked when it came out. In today's crossword, there was a clue "Ford flop" and the answer, of course, was Edsel.
2. Today, I was listening to the small CD I made for Senior Prom and usually I just skim it, listen to "Old Time Rock and Roll" and "The Remedy" and then go to the next CD. Today, however, I stopped on "Drift Away" and sang along with that on the way to work. Today, during lunch, after my crossword was done, I was looking at the celebrity birthdays and sure enough, Dobie Gray (who originally sang "Drift Away" and joins Uncle Kracker in the cover) was born today. I didn't even put the CD in in the first place; Joe put it in during the ride home.
I'm sure these will get boring for everyone else, but tough noogies.
Later!
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
So, I've decided that one of the ways to cure my occasional depression with what my life has become is to keep up with the things that seem to make me happy. Writing has always been one of those things, so I'm gonna start blogging a little more and as soon as I get my story back into my computer, I should get started on that again, because at this rate it'll take me 54 years (I worked it out).
So to upscale/parody the BlackEyed Peas, let's get kathartic! I remember saying once that I didn't recognize my life anymore because of work. Well now I recognize it. I just don't like what I see. I don't like the fact that I'm sad when I wake up because it means I have to work. I don't like the HOURS at work that I spend frustrated with whatever task my boss has given me. I don't like the fact that even after I leave the office, I'm pissed off during the whole drive home and even for a while after I get in. All in all, I'm upset that I dislike my life so much right now and two things are making me stay.
1) I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm just having a bad week and that once I get past this project that's making me feel so incapable, I'll be fine.
2) I won't let this beat me. My "I always quit" neurons are kicking it full force and I nonetheless am letting them keep me in this job that I am starting to hate for the way it makes me feel.
So with that being said, I'm thinking of writing another book in regards to this crash course with reality that comes mid college. I mean, I think it's been pretty much done in other books, but I wanna try it. Seeing as I can't seem to come up with good ideas purely on my own and always seem to squeeze it into a mixture of two existing works, this is gonna be my Office Space meets High Fidelity project. Here's to another 54 years.
Ok, enough with the pity party (Actually, pass me those chips one more time). Here's some quotes from Visit-Katie-in-the-Hospital Trip 3:
>> Joe(In time with Ben Folds): "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
Starla: "Wow, that was cool, go back!"
Me: "Um, sure why not?"
I rewind the CD
Ben Folds: "It gets me real pissed off and it makes me wanna say..."
Everyone: "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
>>Me(during a laid back Sister Hazel song): "Hey, let's rock out so that the little old lady next to us gets upset about 'those teenagers and their music'"
Jamie: "Ok, one, two...."
Everyone rocks out
Jamie (in old lady voice): "'Oh that damn Britney Spears'"
>>Starla (on the phone): "...so I'm just not gonna be able to babysit. I'm so sorry, it just came up. Talk to you later, Bye"
Starla: "Oh man, I lied so badly."
Joe: "Hey we all do it"
Me: "Yeah, seriously"
Starla: "Man, now I feel bad"
Me: "You'll get over it."
Katie (reported by her mom as her best statement while doped up): "My face feels like a waffle cone with syrup dripping"
(Ok, all I could recall, Jamie Joe and Starla, hook me up)
Oh, and for those of you who would like to see Katie while she's in the hospital, call me or IM me for info.
So to upscale/parody the BlackEyed Peas, let's get kathartic! I remember saying once that I didn't recognize my life anymore because of work. Well now I recognize it. I just don't like what I see. I don't like the fact that I'm sad when I wake up because it means I have to work. I don't like the HOURS at work that I spend frustrated with whatever task my boss has given me. I don't like the fact that even after I leave the office, I'm pissed off during the whole drive home and even for a while after I get in. All in all, I'm upset that I dislike my life so much right now and two things are making me stay.
1) I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm just having a bad week and that once I get past this project that's making me feel so incapable, I'll be fine.
2) I won't let this beat me. My "I always quit" neurons are kicking it full force and I nonetheless am letting them keep me in this job that I am starting to hate for the way it makes me feel.
So with that being said, I'm thinking of writing another book in regards to this crash course with reality that comes mid college. I mean, I think it's been pretty much done in other books, but I wanna try it. Seeing as I can't seem to come up with good ideas purely on my own and always seem to squeeze it into a mixture of two existing works, this is gonna be my Office Space meets High Fidelity project. Here's to another 54 years.
Ok, enough with the pity party (Actually, pass me those chips one more time). Here's some quotes from Visit-Katie-in-the-Hospital Trip 3:
>> Joe(In time with Ben Folds): "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
Starla: "Wow, that was cool, go back!"
Me: "Um, sure why not?"
I rewind the CD
Ben Folds: "It gets me real pissed off and it makes me wanna say..."
Everyone: "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
>>Me(during a laid back Sister Hazel song): "Hey, let's rock out so that the little old lady next to us gets upset about 'those teenagers and their music'"
Jamie: "Ok, one, two...."
Everyone rocks out
Jamie (in old lady voice): "'Oh that damn Britney Spears'"
>>Starla (on the phone): "...so I'm just not gonna be able to babysit. I'm so sorry, it just came up. Talk to you later, Bye"
Starla: "Oh man, I lied so badly."
Joe: "Hey we all do it"
Me: "Yeah, seriously"
Starla: "Man, now I feel bad"
Me: "You'll get over it."
Katie (reported by her mom as her best statement while doped up): "My face feels like a waffle cone with syrup dripping"
(Ok, all I could recall, Jamie Joe and Starla, hook me up)
Oh, and for those of you who would like to see Katie while she's in the hospital, call me or IM me for info.
Monday, June 14, 2004
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Things I learned today while listening to Nickelback
1a) I can actually listen to "How You Remind Me" again. I didn't groan when it came on like I did for like two years straight.
1b) "How You Remind Me" is actually about the guy being messed up. I always thought he was pissed with the girl. Just goes to show you can't listen to the lyrics while groaning.
2) Nickelback is like some sort of Emo Rock. Kroeger is seriously troubled during some of those songs (ie "Too Bad" since that's actually about his own dad).
3) I can't think of a good movie fight scene for "Woke Up This Morning," though it definitely needs one. My fight scene Dead Zone has failed me. Oh, well, I still think my Enter Sandman and Terminal Velocity ones give me enough credit to falter a little. Ok, back from that tangent...
4) I actually like enough of the music to want to see them in concert. They're not awesome or anything, but I remember that they had a really good stage presence at last year's Downtown Rocks, or God, was that two years ago? Yep, definitely two
...damn, is anyone else doing that all the time now? You remember something and say, "Wow, that was like a year ago" Then your friend says "Dude, that was 8 years ago" and you suddenly feel ancient?
And yes, that's really all I'm going to blog about. Have a good one!
1a) I can actually listen to "How You Remind Me" again. I didn't groan when it came on like I did for like two years straight.
1b) "How You Remind Me" is actually about the guy being messed up. I always thought he was pissed with the girl. Just goes to show you can't listen to the lyrics while groaning.
2) Nickelback is like some sort of Emo Rock. Kroeger is seriously troubled during some of those songs (ie "Too Bad" since that's actually about his own dad).
3) I can't think of a good movie fight scene for "Woke Up This Morning," though it definitely needs one. My fight scene Dead Zone has failed me. Oh, well, I still think my Enter Sandman and Terminal Velocity ones give me enough credit to falter a little. Ok, back from that tangent...
4) I actually like enough of the music to want to see them in concert. They're not awesome or anything, but I remember that they had a really good stage presence at last year's Downtown Rocks, or God, was that two years ago? Yep, definitely two
...damn, is anyone else doing that all the time now? You remember something and say, "Wow, that was like a year ago" Then your friend says "Dude, that was 8 years ago" and you suddenly feel ancient?
And yes, that's really all I'm going to blog about. Have a good one!
Saturday, June 05, 2004
Yeah, so a mixed bag o' blog this time around. Work's work. Most of y'all who read this have heard me talk about it at one time or another and I don't wanna get into it again, because the weekend is like the only time I feel like things are normal.
However, one thing I learned from work is this: despite how much I love the adulthood that comes with college, sometimes I wish people could treat me like a kid again. Does anyoen get what I mean by that? At work, the secretary of my department is this nice woman who seems like she would just be so sweet if I was like the scared kid getting to work. But I guess I seem too adult or something, so when I joke about being the new guy, she just sort of smiles. I dunno, it kinda makes sense on a larger scale though. Don't you wish you could still get that "Ah, youth" smile from adults sometimes? The other day at Loco's the waiter told me how cheap a pitcher was that night. It seems like the college kid's dream, but it actually bugged me a little.
Anyway, in this desire for feeling young, I was delighted to find my binder from Boys' State. Now I know I've done the Boys States quotes a couple times here, but the interesting thing was that I found a quote sheet that we had apparently been keeping at the time. In fact, it had quotes that I had completely forgotten or had remembered incompletely. Unfortunately, we didn't write names, so if anyone can decipher who said what, please pipe up.
So I give you Boys State deleted scenes:
>>"You've got vagina envy!"
>>Stephen: "Yeah, I want one! I mean, I'd want one for me, not of me...actually, that'd be kinda cool to have a vagina. Like, for a day...You know what?! I wish I WERE a woman!!"
>>"I don't care what you guys think, I'm getting a Poptart!" (Why we chose to remember that, I have no idea)
>>Stephen: "I'm gonna grow a woman in my backyard, one for myself."
And my favorite find...
>>"So would you rather chop your hands off, cut your bottom lip with rusty scissors or hack a mall Santa to death with an axe?"
"Well...how long is the line?"
However, one thing I learned from work is this: despite how much I love the adulthood that comes with college, sometimes I wish people could treat me like a kid again. Does anyoen get what I mean by that? At work, the secretary of my department is this nice woman who seems like she would just be so sweet if I was like the scared kid getting to work. But I guess I seem too adult or something, so when I joke about being the new guy, she just sort of smiles. I dunno, it kinda makes sense on a larger scale though. Don't you wish you could still get that "Ah, youth" smile from adults sometimes? The other day at Loco's the waiter told me how cheap a pitcher was that night. It seems like the college kid's dream, but it actually bugged me a little.
Anyway, in this desire for feeling young, I was delighted to find my binder from Boys' State. Now I know I've done the Boys States quotes a couple times here, but the interesting thing was that I found a quote sheet that we had apparently been keeping at the time. In fact, it had quotes that I had completely forgotten or had remembered incompletely. Unfortunately, we didn't write names, so if anyone can decipher who said what, please pipe up.
So I give you Boys State deleted scenes:
>>"You've got vagina envy!"
>>Stephen: "Yeah, I want one! I mean, I'd want one for me, not of me...actually, that'd be kinda cool to have a vagina. Like, for a day...You know what?! I wish I WERE a woman!!"
>>"I don't care what you guys think, I'm getting a Poptart!" (Why we chose to remember that, I have no idea)
>>Stephen: "I'm gonna grow a woman in my backyard, one for myself."
And my favorite find...
>>"So would you rather chop your hands off, cut your bottom lip with rusty scissors or hack a mall Santa to death with an axe?"
"Well...how long is the line?"
Friday, May 21, 2004
I submitted my first Life Claim Discrepancy Recalculation today!!.....wait....what's happened to me?
I submitted my first Life Claim Discrepancy Recalculation today!!.....wait....what's happened to me?
All comic hysterics aside, I don't recognize my life any more. I get the feeling that the new job and the weirdness of summer could be handled on their own, but dealing with them together leaves me bewildered.
At one point today at work, I looked up in my cubicle, at my Excel spreadsheet, looked across the way at my coworkers, down at my papers, and it hit me. To quote Kerouac, "that was the one distinct moment of my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was...really didn't know who I was for about fifteen seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger." I first read that sitting on some patio at Georgetown and thought about how well it resounded with my life. Bullshit. Georgetown fits; it's clearly been the next step and despite a few moments, it's been easy to tell that it's the same ol' me truckin' along through life.
It's not like that at work. I feel completely different. It's not the insecurity or the ignorance of what I'm doing. It's just that I don't remember how I got there. Suddenly a huge chunk of my day is devoted to something I don't understand. I'm doing well. Like I said, I handled my first big responsibility, screwed my first beneficiary out of their loved one's life insurance money (It's not that bad, the person lied to the sales agent about their age to get a lower rate). My computer's up and running and I only got booted from the mainframe twice for messing up the password (Some Nick Burns clone was all snotty to me over the phone when he reset my clearance). Next week I'm doing some work for the CEO. TMy co-workers are all nice and helpful and understanding, mostly because they didn't have a clue when they first arrived either. Things are going well. They just don't feel like my things.
It's not just the time at work that makes me feel it either. Last night at Taste of Alpharetta, one of the reasons I had a good time was because I'd been at work all day and I appreciated the relaxation and doing what I wanted. I'm sure if we had more friends in the 9 to 5 working world, it'd be a lot of, "Wow, how profound, Ian." But it's crazy to feel this way, to cherish the time on one's own, to crave the weekends. I mean, I'm no Babbitt, but when did I become so damn corporate, polo shirts and network IDs, "have Bret check your work and then fax it over to claims," etc. When did this happen?
Sure, I can bitch all I want about a well-paying job. And yeah, I get to tweak with math and solve problems in Excel (I made a function where my co-workers always use guess and check, on the first day baby!). But I dunno, suddenly this idea of "teaching eventually, but doing something else first" is so damn REAL. I might be doing this for years, because I have no real reason not to. I have no problems witht he work, and I couldn't justify shafting a career because I don't feel right about it.
And this at the same time that it's slim pickins to hang with people. I'm sure I could make some calls and get some coffee with someone or Brusters or something, but when did that become how things work in the group? I guess we all feel weird as college students picking a house for the evening, being with friends that close to parents? What is it about that that makes it so different now? It doesn't even feel like summer.
I'd like to say "I don't know where it is that I came home to, because it's sure not Alpharetta," but that's not how it is. Alpharetta's here, Milton's here, it's all around, still the same. No, it's precisely the unchanging aspects of Alpharetta that reveal the true question in painful clarity: Who came home?
Because it sure doesn't feel like me...
All comic hysterics aside, I don't recognize my life any more. I get the feeling that the new job and the weirdness of summer could be handled on their own, but dealing with them together leaves me bewildered.
At one point today at work, I looked up in my cubicle, at my Excel spreadsheet, looked across the way at my coworkers, down at my papers, and it hit me. To quote Kerouac, "that was the one distinct moment of my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was...really didn't know who I was for about fifteen seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger." I first read that sitting on some patio at Georgetown and thought about how well it resounded with my life. Bullshit. Georgetown fits; it's clearly been the next step and despite a few moments, it's been easy to tell that it's the same ol' me truckin' along through life.
It's not like that at work. I feel completely different. It's not the insecurity or the ignorance of what I'm doing. It's just that I don't remember how I got there. Suddenly a huge chunk of my day is devoted to something I don't understand. I'm doing well. Like I said, I handled my first big responsibility, screwed my first beneficiary out of their loved one's life insurance money (It's not that bad, the person lied to the sales agent about their age to get a lower rate). My computer's up and running and I only got booted from the mainframe twice for messing up the password (Some Nick Burns clone was all snotty to me over the phone when he reset my clearance). Next week I'm doing some work for the CEO. TMy co-workers are all nice and helpful and understanding, mostly because they didn't have a clue when they first arrived either. Things are going well. They just don't feel like my things.
It's not just the time at work that makes me feel it either. Last night at Taste of Alpharetta, one of the reasons I had a good time was because I'd been at work all day and I appreciated the relaxation and doing what I wanted. I'm sure if we had more friends in the 9 to 5 working world, it'd be a lot of, "Wow, how profound, Ian." But it's crazy to feel this way, to cherish the time on one's own, to crave the weekends. I mean, I'm no Babbitt, but when did I become so damn corporate, polo shirts and network IDs, "have Bret check your work and then fax it over to claims," etc. When did this happen?
Sure, I can bitch all I want about a well-paying job. And yeah, I get to tweak with math and solve problems in Excel (I made a function where my co-workers always use guess and check, on the first day baby!). But I dunno, suddenly this idea of "teaching eventually, but doing something else first" is so damn REAL. I might be doing this for years, because I have no real reason not to. I have no problems witht he work, and I couldn't justify shafting a career because I don't feel right about it.
And this at the same time that it's slim pickins to hang with people. I'm sure I could make some calls and get some coffee with someone or Brusters or something, but when did that become how things work in the group? I guess we all feel weird as college students picking a house for the evening, being with friends that close to parents? What is it about that that makes it so different now? It doesn't even feel like summer.
I'd like to say "I don't know where it is that I came home to, because it's sure not Alpharetta," but that's not how it is. Alpharetta's here, Milton's here, it's all around, still the same. No, it's precisely the unchanging aspects of Alpharetta that reveal the true question in painful clarity: Who came home?
Because it sure doesn't feel like me...
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
How to Be Uncomfortable at Home in 9 Easy Months
So here we are, those of us that are already home in Alpharetta (and perhaps those of you elsewhere who may identify). Those still in school, relish it. I never thought I'd say that, but relish the freedom, relish the personal space.
The year sort of fizzled out for me in terms of feeling like the end of school. I wasn't around enough to see everyone freaking about finals, so I didn't feel like it was the big finals season. I really enjoyed my last days at Georgetown because I guess I didn't get too terrible upset about it. If 9 months of school flew by that quickly, I'm sure come August, I'll feel like we'd just said our goodbyes on the Hilltop.
What have I learned? Well, a lot of this year's effects are hard to describe, but some are easy. I, for all intents and purposes, stumbled onto a group of amazing people who are now a part of my daily and almost hourly life at Georgetown. I have people who I love talking to, be it fantastically stupid conversation, or long talks about the so-called important things in life. Sound familiar to anyone in Alpharetta? It should. Familiar but different. I learned early on that not only will the relationships with Milton kids stand the test of college, but they will become stronger. In addition, my Georgetown friends didn't replace the A Kids, but simply became a different part of my life.
Classes are a double-edged sword. The content can be incredibly good and I've learned bucketloads, but at what cost? We've lost the interactions, the personal feel of all of those AP classes, of Crockett's and Friedman's where the teachers didn't just know your name, but your writing style and your sense of humor. I had one class out of ten that came close to that environment, my English class Spring semester. It was a breath of fresh air. Sure, I've learned so much math I literally don't know what to do with it. Sure, I knew enough about Kantian ethics to talk with my friends about Kitty Genovese last night after trivia. But I still wish I knew more people in my classes. Maybe it's my fault. I can be very shy when in a new situation and walking into Friedman's class was walking into years of friendships, not a new situation.
Theater's been amazing. I've said to many people that, were I to draw analogies, my Harbin friends (and Moffet, my fellow refugee) are similar to the A Kids, while theater, ironically enough, is similar to the old Teen Group. I say this because it's varying ages of people who all get along as equals. Plus, I've gotten to dabble in the whole acting thing, which of course strokes my illusions of dramatic grandeur that we all know I have. I got to have a swordfight in period clothing. I got to be a father. And, in a huge acting stretch for me, I got to be a student who has a good point and then lost it....what was I saying? All in all, I'm happy to now be a member of Mask and Bauble Dramatic Society.
But sitting here, Mask and Bauble, my classes, everything Georgetown but the people seems for a moment dreamlike, as if I just woke up in last year's summer from the most vivid dream imaginable and I didn't actually do any of it. However, the moment I get up from this computer, I'll feel it again. That unrelenting feeling that I do not belong here anymore. Sure, I have a bed to sleep in, a sense of directions around the town, and friends to visit with, but I still feel like a stranger. It can be attributed to the fact that I haven't accepted that this summer will be fun in its own right and not in a continuation-of-last-summer way. That hit hard at trivia last night. New venue, new faces, bad sound, it was all new and, at times, I felt like I was in Bizarro-world Alpharetta.
And yet it was fun. I hope no one reads this and thinks, wow, Ian hates being home. No, I'm uncomfortable being home, something I recognize as temporary. We had fun at trivia, as well as in the conversation afterwards outside of the insurance office. Things will be fun this summer, if a bit reigned in by the re-emergence of parents. Soon there will be a grind of work all week, Trivia Tuesday, concert Friday, maybe something over the weekend, repeat. I'll get used to it, and I'll find that I enjoy it. Just for now, I'm shifting from college to home without the clutch.
The year sort of fizzled out for me in terms of feeling like the end of school. I wasn't around enough to see everyone freaking about finals, so I didn't feel like it was the big finals season. I really enjoyed my last days at Georgetown because I guess I didn't get too terrible upset about it. If 9 months of school flew by that quickly, I'm sure come August, I'll feel like we'd just said our goodbyes on the Hilltop.
What have I learned? Well, a lot of this year's effects are hard to describe, but some are easy. I, for all intents and purposes, stumbled onto a group of amazing people who are now a part of my daily and almost hourly life at Georgetown. I have people who I love talking to, be it fantastically stupid conversation, or long talks about the so-called important things in life. Sound familiar to anyone in Alpharetta? It should. Familiar but different. I learned early on that not only will the relationships with Milton kids stand the test of college, but they will become stronger. In addition, my Georgetown friends didn't replace the A Kids, but simply became a different part of my life.
Classes are a double-edged sword. The content can be incredibly good and I've learned bucketloads, but at what cost? We've lost the interactions, the personal feel of all of those AP classes, of Crockett's and Friedman's where the teachers didn't just know your name, but your writing style and your sense of humor. I had one class out of ten that came close to that environment, my English class Spring semester. It was a breath of fresh air. Sure, I've learned so much math I literally don't know what to do with it. Sure, I knew enough about Kantian ethics to talk with my friends about Kitty Genovese last night after trivia. But I still wish I knew more people in my classes. Maybe it's my fault. I can be very shy when in a new situation and walking into Friedman's class was walking into years of friendships, not a new situation.
Theater's been amazing. I've said to many people that, were I to draw analogies, my Harbin friends (and Moffet, my fellow refugee) are similar to the A Kids, while theater, ironically enough, is similar to the old Teen Group. I say this because it's varying ages of people who all get along as equals. Plus, I've gotten to dabble in the whole acting thing, which of course strokes my illusions of dramatic grandeur that we all know I have. I got to have a swordfight in period clothing. I got to be a father. And, in a huge acting stretch for me, I got to be a student who has a good point and then lost it....what was I saying? All in all, I'm happy to now be a member of Mask and Bauble Dramatic Society.
But sitting here, Mask and Bauble, my classes, everything Georgetown but the people seems for a moment dreamlike, as if I just woke up in last year's summer from the most vivid dream imaginable and I didn't actually do any of it. However, the moment I get up from this computer, I'll feel it again. That unrelenting feeling that I do not belong here anymore. Sure, I have a bed to sleep in, a sense of directions around the town, and friends to visit with, but I still feel like a stranger. It can be attributed to the fact that I haven't accepted that this summer will be fun in its own right and not in a continuation-of-last-summer way. That hit hard at trivia last night. New venue, new faces, bad sound, it was all new and, at times, I felt like I was in Bizarro-world Alpharetta.
And yet it was fun. I hope no one reads this and thinks, wow, Ian hates being home. No, I'm uncomfortable being home, something I recognize as temporary. We had fun at trivia, as well as in the conversation afterwards outside of the insurance office. Things will be fun this summer, if a bit reigned in by the re-emergence of parents. Soon there will be a grind of work all week, Trivia Tuesday, concert Friday, maybe something over the weekend, repeat. I'll get used to it, and I'll find that I enjoy it. Just for now, I'm shifting from college to home without the clutch.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Everyone seems to be writing their end of year blogs, wrapping things up, saying goodbye, etc. I suppose it would be best to join in.
It's Wednesday. I came back from Pennsylvania today by train. It's been a crazy week. So much has changed.
This time last week I was driving up to PA with my mom, having moved out to a limited degree. We discussed the plans for my Mom-mom's funeral on Thursday. I was to do a reading as well as be a pall-bearer. I was still pretty detached about her passing. I missed her, but I'd been missing her and there didn't seem to be much that had changed.
I got my hair cut that afternoon, and by some miscalculation on my part, ended up getting my hair buzzed off with a level 2 clipper guard. It's the shortest it has ever been and yet it's already growing back. Waxing overly poetic, I think about how some things mend so easily. Great losses form holes, but the holes get filled or we realize we didn't actually lose anything at all. Best example would be the A Kids once I left for college. I thought there would be a void and that things would be strained. On the contrary, things seem to be pretty strong, still. The relationships have changed, strengthened and focused. That's sort of stream of consciousness, I guess.
Thursday was the funeral. I was fine at the wake. Being a typical Irish family, we were told to stand in a line to receive friends and extended family, but instead we drifted about, talking to everyone, visiting with old friends, like Mom-mom would have wanted us to.
It had never struck me how large my family is until we all met at the funeral home. Even big family get togethers didn't seem to convey the size of our immediate family as much as seeing all four of my uncles and their wives, my mother, and my 7 cousins all together. I feel a lot closer to everyone now, probably because this is the first serious family thing for which I have been an adult. I feel like a real part of the family, as opposed to a kid just watching it all go by. I found myself introducing people, surprising myself with how many people I knew of our extended family. I didn't recognize my god-mother, which was awkward at first, but funny soon afterwards. People smiled and pointed at the pictures on two posterboards of pictures we had put together, one titled "Mary" that highlighted her life before grandkids and the other titled "Mom-mom" with pictures of her with all of us.
Then came the actual mass. My composure began to break as we first took the casket out to the procession. As we didn't actually have to lift it on our shoulders, every male in the family was able to at least put a hand on the casket as we rolled it outside. I just looked around at my uncles, showing varying degrees of loss from my Uncle Frank's composed approach to my Uncle Bob's tearful silence, then at the older male cousins, Brian and Steve, who, like me, were old enough to have memories of Mom-mom before alzheimer's, memories that were no doubt flooding to mind throughout the day. One of the best pictures on the posterboard was one of Mom mom underhanding a wiffle ball to Brian while he winds up with a big plastic bat. He told me at some point during the day that he remembered that Mom-mom always had time to toss him a ball when he asked her. Then there were Sean and Colin, who aren't necessarily young, but have an understanding of what's going on without a whole lot of knowledge as to how to act. They were both respectable and solemn the whole time, but sometimes they seemed to be observing more than participating, which I suppose comes from their limited contact with Mom-mom when she was fully there.
At the mass, I did the first reading without problems, but then somewhere between the Gospel and the homily, I lost it. I began tearing up and holding back sobs. I starting thinking about all the trips we took with Mom-mom, to England and Florida and Charleston and the times I stayed at her house or the times she came down to stay with us. I realized or perhaps simply remembered how close I was to Mom-mom. Since Mom raised me all alone, Mom-mom was there to lend a hand and had a greater part in raising me than Dad did. All these thoughts hit hard, and I fought back tears as I brought up the gifts with Erin, then lost it again while Erin was singing the Prayer of St. Francis. Finally, outside the church, after placing the casket back into the hearse, I completely let go and leaned on Brian while crying my eyes out. He put his arm around me and patted me on the back and reassured me in a way that made me forget that he was only a high school freshmen. As we were getting into Mom's car to proceed to the cemetary, Uncle Don came over with the basket of stuffed animals Mom-mom had in her room at the nursing home. He wanted each of her grandchildren to have one and I took a little Beanie Baby monkey named Bongo.
We buried Mom-mom in the same grave that my grand-father was buried in over 30 years ago. My mom hadn't been there in 32 years, so her emotions must have been all over the place. My uncle Kevin forced a smile and joked that "He's had over 30 years of piece and quiet and now, here she comes!" We all tossed our roses onto the casket and paid our last respects before milling around with the guests. I spent a few minutes talking to my mom's friend Elaine, who I'd been unable to talk to before due to my breakdown at the church. As my Aunt Pat and uncle Bob went by, I heard my aunt say, "She was a great person." My uncle replied, through tears and choked-back sobs, "She was a beautiful person."
We had a small lunch at a Country Club. Someone said it was another typical Irish tradition at a funeral to have drinks and food after the ceremonies. A bunch of the cousins sat at one table and Erin and I told stories of Georgetown life. It was a pleasant end to a hard day.
Actually, I had to come back to Georgetown by train, that afternoon, get some dinner and then study until about 2 AM for my 9 AM Biblical Literature final, but I pretended that the lunch was the end of my day.
This post obviously is no longer about the end of the year and I'm no longer in the mood to write a "Goodbye" blog yet. I'm glad I wrote all this out, but I'm done for now.
It's Wednesday. I came back from Pennsylvania today by train. It's been a crazy week. So much has changed.
This time last week I was driving up to PA with my mom, having moved out to a limited degree. We discussed the plans for my Mom-mom's funeral on Thursday. I was to do a reading as well as be a pall-bearer. I was still pretty detached about her passing. I missed her, but I'd been missing her and there didn't seem to be much that had changed.
I got my hair cut that afternoon, and by some miscalculation on my part, ended up getting my hair buzzed off with a level 2 clipper guard. It's the shortest it has ever been and yet it's already growing back. Waxing overly poetic, I think about how some things mend so easily. Great losses form holes, but the holes get filled or we realize we didn't actually lose anything at all. Best example would be the A Kids once I left for college. I thought there would be a void and that things would be strained. On the contrary, things seem to be pretty strong, still. The relationships have changed, strengthened and focused. That's sort of stream of consciousness, I guess.
Thursday was the funeral. I was fine at the wake. Being a typical Irish family, we were told to stand in a line to receive friends and extended family, but instead we drifted about, talking to everyone, visiting with old friends, like Mom-mom would have wanted us to.
It had never struck me how large my family is until we all met at the funeral home. Even big family get togethers didn't seem to convey the size of our immediate family as much as seeing all four of my uncles and their wives, my mother, and my 7 cousins all together. I feel a lot closer to everyone now, probably because this is the first serious family thing for which I have been an adult. I feel like a real part of the family, as opposed to a kid just watching it all go by. I found myself introducing people, surprising myself with how many people I knew of our extended family. I didn't recognize my god-mother, which was awkward at first, but funny soon afterwards. People smiled and pointed at the pictures on two posterboards of pictures we had put together, one titled "Mary" that highlighted her life before grandkids and the other titled "Mom-mom" with pictures of her with all of us.
Then came the actual mass. My composure began to break as we first took the casket out to the procession. As we didn't actually have to lift it on our shoulders, every male in the family was able to at least put a hand on the casket as we rolled it outside. I just looked around at my uncles, showing varying degrees of loss from my Uncle Frank's composed approach to my Uncle Bob's tearful silence, then at the older male cousins, Brian and Steve, who, like me, were old enough to have memories of Mom-mom before alzheimer's, memories that were no doubt flooding to mind throughout the day. One of the best pictures on the posterboard was one of Mom mom underhanding a wiffle ball to Brian while he winds up with a big plastic bat. He told me at some point during the day that he remembered that Mom-mom always had time to toss him a ball when he asked her. Then there were Sean and Colin, who aren't necessarily young, but have an understanding of what's going on without a whole lot of knowledge as to how to act. They were both respectable and solemn the whole time, but sometimes they seemed to be observing more than participating, which I suppose comes from their limited contact with Mom-mom when she was fully there.
At the mass, I did the first reading without problems, but then somewhere between the Gospel and the homily, I lost it. I began tearing up and holding back sobs. I starting thinking about all the trips we took with Mom-mom, to England and Florida and Charleston and the times I stayed at her house or the times she came down to stay with us. I realized or perhaps simply remembered how close I was to Mom-mom. Since Mom raised me all alone, Mom-mom was there to lend a hand and had a greater part in raising me than Dad did. All these thoughts hit hard, and I fought back tears as I brought up the gifts with Erin, then lost it again while Erin was singing the Prayer of St. Francis. Finally, outside the church, after placing the casket back into the hearse, I completely let go and leaned on Brian while crying my eyes out. He put his arm around me and patted me on the back and reassured me in a way that made me forget that he was only a high school freshmen. As we were getting into Mom's car to proceed to the cemetary, Uncle Don came over with the basket of stuffed animals Mom-mom had in her room at the nursing home. He wanted each of her grandchildren to have one and I took a little Beanie Baby monkey named Bongo.
We buried Mom-mom in the same grave that my grand-father was buried in over 30 years ago. My mom hadn't been there in 32 years, so her emotions must have been all over the place. My uncle Kevin forced a smile and joked that "He's had over 30 years of piece and quiet and now, here she comes!" We all tossed our roses onto the casket and paid our last respects before milling around with the guests. I spent a few minutes talking to my mom's friend Elaine, who I'd been unable to talk to before due to my breakdown at the church. As my Aunt Pat and uncle Bob went by, I heard my aunt say, "She was a great person." My uncle replied, through tears and choked-back sobs, "She was a beautiful person."
We had a small lunch at a Country Club. Someone said it was another typical Irish tradition at a funeral to have drinks and food after the ceremonies. A bunch of the cousins sat at one table and Erin and I told stories of Georgetown life. It was a pleasant end to a hard day.
Actually, I had to come back to Georgetown by train, that afternoon, get some dinner and then study until about 2 AM for my 9 AM Biblical Literature final, but I pretended that the lunch was the end of my day.
This post obviously is no longer about the end of the year and I'm no longer in the mood to write a "Goodbye" blog yet. I'm glad I wrote all this out, but I'm done for now.
Everyone seems to be writing their end of year blogs, wrapping things up, saying goodbye, etc. I suppose it would be best to join in.
It's Wednesday. I came back from Pennsylvania today by train. It's been a crazy week. So much has changed.
This time last week I was driving up to PA with my mom, having moved out to a limited degree. We discussed the plans for my Mom-mom's funeral on Thursday. I was to do a reading as well as be a pall-bearer. I was still pretty detached about her passing. I missed her, but I'd been missing her and there didn't seem to be much that had changed.
I got my hair cut that afternoon, and by some miscalculation on my part, ended up getting my hair buzzed off with a level 2 clipper guard. It's the shortest it has ever been and yet it's already growing back. Waxing overly poetic, I think about how some things mend so easily. Great losses form holes, but the holes get filled or we realize we didn't actually lose anything at all. Best example would be the A Kids once I left for college. I thought there would be a void and that things would be strained. On the contrary, things seem to be pretty strong, still. The relationships have changed, strengthened and focused. That's sort of stream of consciousness, I guess.
Thursday was the funeral. I was fine at the wake. Being a typical Irish family, we were told to stand in a line to receive friends and extended family, but instead we drifted about, talking to everyone, visiting with old friends, like Mom-mom would have wanted us to.
It had never struck me how large my family is until we all met at the funeral home. Even big family get togethers didn't seem to convey the size of our immediate family as much as seeing all four of my uncles and their wives, my mother, and my 7 cousins all together. I feel a lot closer to everyone now, probably because this is the first serious family thing for which I have been an adult. I feel like a real part of the family, as opposed to a kid just watching it all go by. I found myself introducing people, surprising myself with how many people I knew of our extended family. I didn't recognize my god-mother, which was awkward at first, but funny soon afterwards. People smiled and pointed at the pictures on two posterboards of pictures we had put together, one titled "Mary" that highlighted her life before grandkids and the other titled "Mom-mom" with pictures of her with all of us.
Then came the actual mass. My composure began to break as we first took the casket out to the procession. As we didn't actually have to lift it on our shoulders, every male in the family was able to at least put a hand on the casket as we rolled it outside. I just looked around at my uncles, showing varying degrees of loss from my Uncle Frank's composed approach to my Uncle Bob's tearful silence, then at the older male cousins, Brian and Steve, who, like me, were old enough to have memories of Mom-mom before alzheimer's, memories that were no doubt flooding to mind throughout the day. One of the best pictures on the posterboard was one of Mom mom underhanding a wiffle ball to Brian while he winds up with a big plastic bat. He told me at some point during the day that he remembered that Mom-mom always had time to toss him a ball when he asked her. Then there were Sean and Colin, who aren't necessarily young, but have an understanding of what's going on without a whole lot of knowledge as to how to act. They were both respectable and solemn the whole time, but sometimes they seemed to be observing more than participating, which I suppose comes from their limited contact with Mom-mom when she was fully there.
At the mass, I did the first reading without problems, but then somewhere between the Gospel and the homily, I lost it. I began tearing up and holding back sobs. I starting thinking about all the trips we took with Mom-mom, to England and Florida and Charleston and the times I stayed at her house or the times she came down to stay with us. I realized or perhaps simply remembered how close I was to Mom-mom. Since Mom raised me all alone, Mom-mom was there to lend a hand and had a greater part in raising me than Dad did. All these thoughts hit hard, and I fought back tears as I brought up the gifts with Erin, then lost it again while Erin was singing the Prayer of St. Francis. Finally, outside the church, after placing the casket back into the hearse, I completely let go and leaned on Brian while crying my eyes out. He put his arm around me and patted me on the back and reassured me in a way that made me forget that he was only a high school freshmen. As we were getting into Mom's car to proceed to the cemetary, Uncle Don came over with the basket of stuffed animals Mom-mom had in her room at the nursing home. He wanted each of her grandchildren to have one and I took a little Beanie Baby monkey named Bongo.
We buried Mom-mom in the same grave that my grand-father was buried in over 30 years ago. My mom hadn't been there in 32 years, so her emotions must have been all over the place. My uncle Kevin forced a smile and joked that "He's had over 30 years of piece and quiet and now, here she comes!" We all tossed our roses onto the casket and paid our last respects before milling around with the guests. I spent a few minutes talking to my mom's friend Elaine, who I'd been unable to talk to before due to my breakdown at the church. As my Aunt Pat and uncle Bob went by, I heard my aunt say, "She was a great person." My uncle replied, through tears and choked-back sobs, "She was a beautiful person."
We had a small lunch at a Country Club. Someone said it was another typical Irish tradition at a funeral to have drinks and food after the ceremonies. A bunch of the cousins sat at one table and Erin and I told stories of Georgetown life. It was a pleasant end to a hard day.
Actually, I had to come back to Georgetown by train, that afternoon, get some dinner and then study until about 2 AM for my 9 AM Biblical Literature final, but I pretended that the lunch was the end of my day.
This post obviously is no longer about the end of the year and I'm no longer in the mood to write a "Goodbye" blog yet. I'm glad I wrote all this out, but I'm done for now.
It's Wednesday. I came back from Pennsylvania today by train. It's been a crazy week. So much has changed.
This time last week I was driving up to PA with my mom, having moved out to a limited degree. We discussed the plans for my Mom-mom's funeral on Thursday. I was to do a reading as well as be a pall-bearer. I was still pretty detached about her passing. I missed her, but I'd been missing her and there didn't seem to be much that had changed.
I got my hair cut that afternoon, and by some miscalculation on my part, ended up getting my hair buzzed off with a level 2 clipper guard. It's the shortest it has ever been and yet it's already growing back. Waxing overly poetic, I think about how some things mend so easily. Great losses form holes, but the holes get filled or we realize we didn't actually lose anything at all. Best example would be the A Kids once I left for college. I thought there would be a void and that things would be strained. On the contrary, things seem to be pretty strong, still. The relationships have changed, strengthened and focused. That's sort of stream of consciousness, I guess.
Thursday was the funeral. I was fine at the wake. Being a typical Irish family, we were told to stand in a line to receive friends and extended family, but instead we drifted about, talking to everyone, visiting with old friends, like Mom-mom would have wanted us to.
It had never struck me how large my family is until we all met at the funeral home. Even big family get togethers didn't seem to convey the size of our immediate family as much as seeing all four of my uncles and their wives, my mother, and my 7 cousins all together. I feel a lot closer to everyone now, probably because this is the first serious family thing for which I have been an adult. I feel like a real part of the family, as opposed to a kid just watching it all go by. I found myself introducing people, surprising myself with how many people I knew of our extended family. I didn't recognize my god-mother, which was awkward at first, but funny soon afterwards. People smiled and pointed at the pictures on two posterboards of pictures we had put together, one titled "Mary" that highlighted her life before grandkids and the other titled "Mom-mom" with pictures of her with all of us.
Then came the actual mass. My composure began to break as we first took the casket out to the procession. As we didn't actually have to lift it on our shoulders, every male in the family was able to at least put a hand on the casket as we rolled it outside. I just looked around at my uncles, showing varying degrees of loss from my Uncle Frank's composed approach to my Uncle Bob's tearful silence, then at the older male cousins, Brian and Steve, who, like me, were old enough to have memories of Mom-mom before alzheimer's, memories that were no doubt flooding to mind throughout the day. One of the best pictures on the posterboard was one of Mom mom underhanding a wiffle ball to Brian while he winds up with a big plastic bat. He told me at some point during the day that he remembered that Mom-mom always had time to toss him a ball when he asked her. Then there were Sean and Colin, who aren't necessarily young, but have an understanding of what's going on without a whole lot of knowledge as to how to act. They were both respectable and solemn the whole time, but sometimes they seemed to be observing more than participating, which I suppose comes from their limited contact with Mom-mom when she was fully there.
At the mass, I did the first reading without problems, but then somewhere between the Gospel and the homily, I lost it. I began tearing up and holding back sobs. I starting thinking about all the trips we took with Mom-mom, to England and Florida and Charleston and the times I stayed at her house or the times she came down to stay with us. I realized or perhaps simply remembered how close I was to Mom-mom. Since Mom raised me all alone, Mom-mom was there to lend a hand and had a greater part in raising me than Dad did. All these thoughts hit hard, and I fought back tears as I brought up the gifts with Erin, then lost it again while Erin was singing the Prayer of St. Francis. Finally, outside the church, after placing the casket back into the hearse, I completely let go and leaned on Brian while crying my eyes out. He put his arm around me and patted me on the back and reassured me in a way that made me forget that he was only a high school freshmen. As we were getting into Mom's car to proceed to the cemetary, Uncle Don came over with the basket of stuffed animals Mom-mom had in her room at the nursing home. He wanted each of her grandchildren to have one and I took a little Beanie Baby monkey named Bongo.
We buried Mom-mom in the same grave that my grand-father was buried in over 30 years ago. My mom hadn't been there in 32 years, so her emotions must have been all over the place. My uncle Kevin forced a smile and joked that "He's had over 30 years of piece and quiet and now, here she comes!" We all tossed our roses onto the casket and paid our last respects before milling around with the guests. I spent a few minutes talking to my mom's friend Elaine, who I'd been unable to talk to before due to my breakdown at the church. As my Aunt Pat and uncle Bob went by, I heard my aunt say, "She was a great person." My uncle replied, through tears and choked-back sobs, "She was a beautiful person."
We had a small lunch at a Country Club. Someone said it was another typical Irish tradition at a funeral to have drinks and food after the ceremonies. A bunch of the cousins sat at one table and Erin and I told stories of Georgetown life. It was a pleasant end to a hard day.
Actually, I had to come back to Georgetown by train, that afternoon, get some dinner and then study until about 2 AM for my 9 AM Biblical Literature final, but I pretended that the lunch was the end of my day.
This post obviously is no longer about the end of the year and I'm no longer in the mood to write a "Goodbye" blog yet. I'm glad I wrote all this out, but I'm done for now.
Monday, May 10, 2004
Well, I screwed up my computer and lost everything that was written or saved after the big backup before I reinstalled Windows the first time. I thought I'd lost everything from senior year, journals, red letters, pictures, everything. Luckily, a lot of that is ok. But I did lose this past semester. It feels weird to say that and I know my memory shouldn't be reliant on pictures and documents. However, we all do it. We all like to go back and have evidence that we once had completely different priorities and ideals. Sure, I can piece together a lot. Most of my written Georgetown journals that weren't in my handwritten book were posted to this blog, so they're salvageable. The pictures can be assembled from friends and the music, well the music doesn't really matter much in the long run anyway.
I did lose my story though. I now have only 12 pages of the 17 that I had most recently and as anyone who writes ofte knows, five pages is a tremendous loss. Besides, I made some incredibly large character changes right before my last saved copy and now those are all gone. My only hope is to contact the English dept. at school and get the copy I submitted for the contest. If I don't get at least a semi-recent copy, I might be too discouraged to continue. May seem dramatic, but I don't know if anyone else understands how much of a loss it is. Sure, I know the ideas of what I wrote, but I lost the words.
IT's sad that in this day and age, it's so hard to lose a lot of computer data like that. It's a blow and people are nice to you like it's some small scale death in the family (I should know). I was devastated when I thought I'd lost it all. Maybe our priorities are all screwed up, but I think I want to have the records. The records actually keep me from dwelling on the past, because I can go back if I want to, I don't have to keep reliving it in my head to keep it fresh.
I guess with the funeral (which I might blog about when I feel ready), I've been thinking a lot about maintaining memories and the idea of losing almost two years worth, a significant portion of my life, was disconcerting, to say the least.
I did lose my story though. I now have only 12 pages of the 17 that I had most recently and as anyone who writes ofte knows, five pages is a tremendous loss. Besides, I made some incredibly large character changes right before my last saved copy and now those are all gone. My only hope is to contact the English dept. at school and get the copy I submitted for the contest. If I don't get at least a semi-recent copy, I might be too discouraged to continue. May seem dramatic, but I don't know if anyone else understands how much of a loss it is. Sure, I know the ideas of what I wrote, but I lost the words.
IT's sad that in this day and age, it's so hard to lose a lot of computer data like that. It's a blow and people are nice to you like it's some small scale death in the family (I should know). I was devastated when I thought I'd lost it all. Maybe our priorities are all screwed up, but I think I want to have the records. The records actually keep me from dwelling on the past, because I can go back if I want to, I don't have to keep reliving it in my head to keep it fresh.
I guess with the funeral (which I might blog about when I feel ready), I've been thinking a lot about maintaining memories and the idea of losing almost two years worth, a significant portion of my life, was disconcerting, to say the least.
Sunday, May 02, 2004
Today was shaping to be a real bitch of a day. I have my third math test to cram for, my last ethics reflection paper to write and two hours of rehearsal for a dirceting scene that I have to actually act in later tonight. All in all, that made for a shitty, stressful, probably depressing letdown of a day.
I woke up this morning to my phone ringing. I thought it might be my director letting me know about rehearsal. Instead it was my mom. She had already tried calling and I hadn't woken up. My grandmother, my Mom-mom died this morning. Not only is that tragic, but I also have to live with myself today knowing that my reaction was one of sorrow AND relief. I know, she wouldn't have wanted to live the way she was living and she wouldn't have wanted her children to be in such pain for years watching her, but still, I feel like shit about hoping she would die. Especially when the memories flood back and wash over me, and I can't even get myself out of my room for a shower, much less work my ass off all day to finish shit that doesn't really matter to me right this minute.
I love you, Mom-mom, and even though I've already been missing you for the last few years, now I just wish you'd sit me down at the kitchen table and give me that little foil bowl of Rice Krispies and tell me everything's gonna be ok.
I woke up this morning to my phone ringing. I thought it might be my director letting me know about rehearsal. Instead it was my mom. She had already tried calling and I hadn't woken up. My grandmother, my Mom-mom died this morning. Not only is that tragic, but I also have to live with myself today knowing that my reaction was one of sorrow AND relief. I know, she wouldn't have wanted to live the way she was living and she wouldn't have wanted her children to be in such pain for years watching her, but still, I feel like shit about hoping she would die. Especially when the memories flood back and wash over me, and I can't even get myself out of my room for a shower, much less work my ass off all day to finish shit that doesn't really matter to me right this minute.
I love you, Mom-mom, and even though I've already been missing you for the last few years, now I just wish you'd sit me down at the kitchen table and give me that little foil bowl of Rice Krispies and tell me everything's gonna be ok.
Friday, April 23, 2004
Ok, so I think I figured out why this summer isn't exactly welcome in my mind. I mean, I'm thrilled about the break, but other than that, it's kind of annoying, and here's why.
See, we're in college now. News flash, I know, but the fact of the matter is, we're all used to a degree of freedom now. Granted, with that freedom has come responsibilities, but most of us are up to the task of being responsible.
Flash forward to summer. Suddenly we're back home and a lot of the freedom is gone. Sure, curfews are gonna be later (or earlier in the morning rather), but other than that, it's not like we can all just hang out in rooms all night or anything. The problem with this is, at least for me and I think for others as well, this summer is supposed to be a time to think about serious jobs. So basically, we get more responsibilities with less freedom. We've been spoiled by college and this summer's going to be constrictive by comparison. I think this is why the bachelorhood summer that has since fallen through was so appealling. We would have actually managed to keep this college thing going through summer and had a great time. That's also why it was so discouraging to lose that, because now I feel like I have to face up to the fact that a lot of this summer is gonna be working and then not getting to be as free and relaxed.
It's a bummer, unfortunately. I hate throwing it out there to depress people and hey, even over Easter break, we had long conversations in kitchens, long nights at the playgrounds and so forth. We'll make due, I'm sure. It just happened to hit me why I was apprehensive about the summer.
See, we're in college now. News flash, I know, but the fact of the matter is, we're all used to a degree of freedom now. Granted, with that freedom has come responsibilities, but most of us are up to the task of being responsible.
Flash forward to summer. Suddenly we're back home and a lot of the freedom is gone. Sure, curfews are gonna be later (or earlier in the morning rather), but other than that, it's not like we can all just hang out in rooms all night or anything. The problem with this is, at least for me and I think for others as well, this summer is supposed to be a time to think about serious jobs. So basically, we get more responsibilities with less freedom. We've been spoiled by college and this summer's going to be constrictive by comparison. I think this is why the bachelorhood summer that has since fallen through was so appealling. We would have actually managed to keep this college thing going through summer and had a great time. That's also why it was so discouraging to lose that, because now I feel like I have to face up to the fact that a lot of this summer is gonna be working and then not getting to be as free and relaxed.
It's a bummer, unfortunately. I hate throwing it out there to depress people and hey, even over Easter break, we had long conversations in kitchens, long nights at the playgrounds and so forth. We'll make due, I'm sure. It just happened to hit me why I was apprehensive about the summer.
Monday, April 19, 2004
Ok, so in an effort to put off the ending of my English paper that tries to reconcile narrative thought with scientific/mathematical thought, I have decided to review a couple of things I have partaken in recently. We have a couple of books, a movie, trailers, and other little things.
Books
The Eight - I got this book for Christmas after having asked for it when it was Amazon-recommended for people who liked the Da Vinci Code. I was hoping that it would have the Da Vinci Code's amazing knowledge of symbols while also possessing some decent writing and style.
I was horribly disappointed. It had SO much potential. The whole idea of people actually being different chess pieces in a giant game played all over the world was awesome. The legend of Charlemagne's chess service and its power was also really intriguing. The historical characters would have been great if the author hadn't turned it into a who's who of European History and AP Literature, using the same freaking template every time:
"[random main character] saw him from across the room. Among all the others, he stood apart, with his [description of hair], [description of usually piercing eyes], and his Roman Coin features (she so overused that description). She walked across the room to him. He caught her eye, smiled and she saw the power within him. His name was Maximilien Robespierre/Benedict Arnold/Jean Paul(?) Marat/Catherine the Great/Jean-Jacques Rousseau/Tallyrand/Robert Blake/William Blake/etc."
[end chapter]
I'm not kidding, about 15 chapters ended with a dun dun DUN about some historical figure. It was ridiculous. Like I said, it had so much potential. The characters could have been more intriguing, and the plot just aborted at the end with some cheesy immortal life bullshit. So, it committed the same sins as the Da Vinci code, perhaps amplified, along with way too self-aware writing, and not enough cool knowledge of history. Just name dropping.
On the Road (in progress) So far this book has been amazing. Some of the things Kerouac describes are just incredibly poignant and even though it's in the simplest words, you identify with it. I recommend it to anyone who's feeling a bit overcome by where they feel like they are in the world right now. I'll review more extensively when I finish.
Movies
The Punisher
I was SO surprised by this. This had some of the worst publicity ever, with cheesy voiceovers in the trailers and awful shots of Thomas Jane mugging it up all over the place. It was so good, though. Some of the lines were really witty. The characters were intriguing and the revenge was sweet. I'd say it was like the Count of Monte Cristo, but people would probably chastise me for mixing literature with comic book characters. The action pushed a few of my violence thresholds, although not really for goriness, just for suspense and what would seem really painful. I'll never look at a paper cutter the same way again.
As for the downsides, it could have used a little more time on how the legal system didn't work. Castle just sort of immediately takes things into his own hands with only one scene of him chastising the investigation of his family's murder. Also, while I know they have to do the whole comic book movie "He's still out there" part (like spiderman webbing around the city at the end), it could have found a less cheesy way to pull that off.
All in all, I'm impressed with Thomas Jane, the kid with the piercings from Get Over It, whoever came up with the revenge and whoever choreographed the Russian's fight scene, which was like the movie itself: Badass and hilarious. Good Movie.
Trailers
I'll just say which ones people should check out at : Spiderman 2 (the new one, not the cafe one), I, Robot (people should read the Issaac Asimov book as well), Dodgeball (Come on, Vince Vaughn AND Ben Stiller? Too funny for words), and the second Punisher one because its much better than the cheesy first one.
Thanks for letting me indulge, back to my paper...
Books
The Eight - I got this book for Christmas after having asked for it when it was Amazon-recommended for people who liked the Da Vinci Code. I was hoping that it would have the Da Vinci Code's amazing knowledge of symbols while also possessing some decent writing and style.
I was horribly disappointed. It had SO much potential. The whole idea of people actually being different chess pieces in a giant game played all over the world was awesome. The legend of Charlemagne's chess service and its power was also really intriguing. The historical characters would have been great if the author hadn't turned it into a who's who of European History and AP Literature, using the same freaking template every time:
"[random main character] saw him from across the room. Among all the others, he stood apart, with his [description of hair], [description of usually piercing eyes], and his Roman Coin features (she so overused that description). She walked across the room to him. He caught her eye, smiled and she saw the power within him. His name was Maximilien Robespierre/Benedict Arnold/Jean Paul(?) Marat/Catherine the Great/Jean-Jacques Rousseau/Tallyrand/Robert Blake/William Blake/etc."
[end chapter]
I'm not kidding, about 15 chapters ended with a dun dun DUN about some historical figure. It was ridiculous. Like I said, it had so much potential. The characters could have been more intriguing, and the plot just aborted at the end with some cheesy immortal life bullshit. So, it committed the same sins as the Da Vinci code, perhaps amplified, along with way too self-aware writing, and not enough cool knowledge of history. Just name dropping.
On the Road (in progress) So far this book has been amazing. Some of the things Kerouac describes are just incredibly poignant and even though it's in the simplest words, you identify with it. I recommend it to anyone who's feeling a bit overcome by where they feel like they are in the world right now. I'll review more extensively when I finish.
Movies
The Punisher
I was SO surprised by this. This had some of the worst publicity ever, with cheesy voiceovers in the trailers and awful shots of Thomas Jane mugging it up all over the place. It was so good, though. Some of the lines were really witty. The characters were intriguing and the revenge was sweet. I'd say it was like the Count of Monte Cristo, but people would probably chastise me for mixing literature with comic book characters. The action pushed a few of my violence thresholds, although not really for goriness, just for suspense and what would seem really painful. I'll never look at a paper cutter the same way again.
As for the downsides, it could have used a little more time on how the legal system didn't work. Castle just sort of immediately takes things into his own hands with only one scene of him chastising the investigation of his family's murder. Also, while I know they have to do the whole comic book movie "He's still out there" part (like spiderman webbing around the city at the end), it could have found a less cheesy way to pull that off.
All in all, I'm impressed with Thomas Jane, the kid with the piercings from Get Over It, whoever came up with the revenge and whoever choreographed the Russian's fight scene, which was like the movie itself: Badass and hilarious. Good Movie.
Trailers
I'll just say which ones people should check out at : Spiderman 2 (the new one, not the cafe one), I, Robot (people should read the Issaac Asimov book as well), Dodgeball (Come on, Vince Vaughn AND Ben Stiller? Too funny for words), and the second Punisher one because its much better than the cheesy first one.
Thanks for letting me indulge, back to my paper...
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
It’s early, really early. I could probably go to sleep right now, but I have to get some stuff off my chest. Lots of stuff.
So life’s getting more real by the day. Yeah, I know what they say. We’re just freshman. We have all the time in the world. Well, I don’t feel that way anymore. I feel like the real world is just around the corner. Part of this is because of the graduation thing. Other parts are more mental, more internal.
I feel like I’ve lost control of where my life is headed. The funny thing is, I can’t tell who HAS the controls in my stead. I could easily blame it on mom, but that’s not the truth.
The truth is that some less romantic, perhaps more realistic, and far more acquiescent version of myself is taking over. For instance, this summer, I’ve chosen to work as an actuarial intern. Last year, when my mom first suggested actuary as a lucrative job for a math major, I snubbed it for its boring responsibilities and how it seemed like a sell out to my real passions. However, now I want to make some money on the side. I want to get experience in a math field. Perhaps I am selling out. Maybe that’s why I find it so disheartening that the great summer plans are shot to shit. Their incredible promise of a wonderful summer counter-acted my anguish at getting a real job. Not even a real job. A real job is your waiter/waitress/store clerk. This is closer to a real real job, you know? An occupation. Now that’s really all I have to look forward to this summer, besides the chance of randomly moving. I feel like the decision to go ahead with the internship wasn’t made by me, that I am somehow above it, still holding my dream of the powerful and influential teacher. And yet it’s still my life, no matter “who” makes the decisions. Am I really going to be happy with this? Or more importantly, am I actually going to reach the point where I do sacrifice happiness for my job? Wasn’t that what we were trying to avoid all this time?
I’m at a stalemate. My future’s too clean-cut and dream-ravaging to dwell upon. Thinking too much about the present makes me think of whether or not I’m happy I’m at Georgetown, which isn’t as sure a topic as one would hope it would be. And as for the past, I’ve been considering that lately, too. I saw some old friends from teen group at Easter Mass and I realized how easily those memories are shoved aside in my definition of myself. I spent several years as not only a participant, but a pillar of something spiritual and moving and I’d be surprised if I think about it more than once every three months. Except now. Now I wonder how something so huge in my life once plays such a small role in my head now. What does that say about my other memories? Would they suffer the same fate of omission if I didn’t talk to the A Kids all the time or hang out with them on breaks? I just don’t understand how things can be so crucial and powerful when they happen, but seem so inconsequential in the remembrance. I wish it were otherwise, because even now, it takes a trip to the Friedman journal to remember everything; I look at the pictures I have and wish I had thousands more. I wish I had more to show for things like Teen Group or TiP or Academic Bowl or things that “changed my life” and yet I don’t think of at all now.
I know, it’s all so depressing. Not entirely. When I think of the memories, I smile. When I hang with my Gtown friend, goof around with theater folk, have a good class, talk to friends from home, I feel happy. And when I consider that someday I will teach, or the idea that being an actuary might be like math homework all day long with pay, the future doesn’t seem so bad.
This is where I am, and yet it’s not. It’s what I think about and yet it’s not a pressing issue. It’s important, but doesn’t matter. It’s life-changing and yet trivial.
So that’s what I’ve been kicking around.
So life’s getting more real by the day. Yeah, I know what they say. We’re just freshman. We have all the time in the world. Well, I don’t feel that way anymore. I feel like the real world is just around the corner. Part of this is because of the graduation thing. Other parts are more mental, more internal.
I feel like I’ve lost control of where my life is headed. The funny thing is, I can’t tell who HAS the controls in my stead. I could easily blame it on mom, but that’s not the truth.
The truth is that some less romantic, perhaps more realistic, and far more acquiescent version of myself is taking over. For instance, this summer, I’ve chosen to work as an actuarial intern. Last year, when my mom first suggested actuary as a lucrative job for a math major, I snubbed it for its boring responsibilities and how it seemed like a sell out to my real passions. However, now I want to make some money on the side. I want to get experience in a math field. Perhaps I am selling out. Maybe that’s why I find it so disheartening that the great summer plans are shot to shit. Their incredible promise of a wonderful summer counter-acted my anguish at getting a real job. Not even a real job. A real job is your waiter/waitress/store clerk. This is closer to a real real job, you know? An occupation. Now that’s really all I have to look forward to this summer, besides the chance of randomly moving. I feel like the decision to go ahead with the internship wasn’t made by me, that I am somehow above it, still holding my dream of the powerful and influential teacher. And yet it’s still my life, no matter “who” makes the decisions. Am I really going to be happy with this? Or more importantly, am I actually going to reach the point where I do sacrifice happiness for my job? Wasn’t that what we were trying to avoid all this time?
I’m at a stalemate. My future’s too clean-cut and dream-ravaging to dwell upon. Thinking too much about the present makes me think of whether or not I’m happy I’m at Georgetown, which isn’t as sure a topic as one would hope it would be. And as for the past, I’ve been considering that lately, too. I saw some old friends from teen group at Easter Mass and I realized how easily those memories are shoved aside in my definition of myself. I spent several years as not only a participant, but a pillar of something spiritual and moving and I’d be surprised if I think about it more than once every three months. Except now. Now I wonder how something so huge in my life once plays such a small role in my head now. What does that say about my other memories? Would they suffer the same fate of omission if I didn’t talk to the A Kids all the time or hang out with them on breaks? I just don’t understand how things can be so crucial and powerful when they happen, but seem so inconsequential in the remembrance. I wish it were otherwise, because even now, it takes a trip to the Friedman journal to remember everything; I look at the pictures I have and wish I had thousands more. I wish I had more to show for things like Teen Group or TiP or Academic Bowl or things that “changed my life” and yet I don’t think of at all now.
I know, it’s all so depressing. Not entirely. When I think of the memories, I smile. When I hang with my Gtown friend, goof around with theater folk, have a good class, talk to friends from home, I feel happy. And when I consider that someday I will teach, or the idea that being an actuary might be like math homework all day long with pay, the future doesn’t seem so bad.
This is where I am, and yet it’s not. It’s what I think about and yet it’s not a pressing issue. It’s important, but doesn’t matter. It’s life-changing and yet trivial.
So that’s what I’ve been kicking around.
Blog Archive
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2004
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