i live with the most eclectic gathering of people. for the summer this dorm contains the Notre Dame football, basketball, baseball, hockey, soccer, lacrosse, and track teams. however only one person in my hallway is from one of these teams, the other thirty-so people in my section are biblethumpers. i am not kidding when i say that these blokes live and breathe the catholic church. they are here for some six week course in theology. i am dead serious when i say that in the two weeks that they have been here i have yet to hear them discuss something other than various intricacies of catholic doctrine and divine yaketyak. Not one word about a new movie, a cute girl, a song on the radio or the score of a random televised sporting event. instead, homilies, dogma nitpicking and comparison of different translations of the bible have been the course du jour. the world is full of strange people.
i also share the kitchen with the football team. or should i say i share the kitchen with the girls who fuck fix food for the football team. it didn’t bother me too much for about the first five minutes. then they started stealing my stuff. so 3 bowls later i keep my eating utensils in my own room. they also don’t clean up after themselves. the entire kitchen is a mountain of dirty dishes. there is absolutely no room to set anything clean down. the oven and rangetop are broken and the refridgerator is sinking under the weight of things shoved haphazardly into it. the hall manager, so intent on not letting the football players rule the dorm he is in charge of, merely whimpers and whines when i mention that he might start enforcing some rules. this week we were cooking a lasagna in the oven and some of the football sluts cooks TAKE OUT OUR LASAGNA and put in their CAKE and brownies. They don’t even LIVE in our dorm and they see no problem with commandeering the oven for their own use DESPITE THE FACT that someone else is already using it. i hope those big black dicks on the football team get food poisoning from their cock-sockets and start going to the dining hall. then maybe i can have a decent meal again.
hoo-ray for the weekend. alas for the demise of hunter-gatherers. if i were a nomadic hunter gatherer from one thousand years ago i would only have to work about two hours a day to supply myself with everything needed for survival. this is documented. (best i could find given 5 mins searching.) the risks of developing a degenerative disease would be greatly decreased and my overall nutritional content would be better although i would have less protein intake than what the USRDA recommends. Nuts and berries are good for you folks. but before you go gallivanting off to become a !Kung remember that the reason we switched over from hunter/gatherer to swidden agriculture was an increase in population that could only be supported by cultivation and domestication. it takes a lot of acreage to provide for even one person and lifespan is significantly shorter and the birth rate lower among hunter-gatherer societies.
all this DOES relate back to the weekend. back in the day the weekend wasn’t much different than weekdays. in fact if you got all of the work done in the morning, the afternoon was pretty much equivalent to the weekend. becoming sedentary changed that because it takes more work to provide for more people. eventually through the evolution of society we have come to have the concept of the weekend as our time to recuperate from 5 days of work (sadly this too is starting to disappear). The weekend is the carrot dangling before our nose. Glory be to the Protestant work ethic of Americans, which capitalism has utilized to its benefit. That is why I want to move to Europe where they take things easy for several months a year. Sure the standard of living isn’t as great as it is here, but i’m sure they don’t have as many ulcers as we do either. i don’t require a high standard of living anyway.
right before i came into work i was sitting outside enjoying the day and watching two girls who were asleep on the quad out in all that sunshine. well hell, i got inspired and wrote a poem on the spot. i was planning on taking it over to them and just leaving it once i got finished as a sort of surprise thing for when they woke up. well one of them decided to get up and move around right as i was finishing the poem which made it harder for me to go over there. still i copied it down and walked over, but at the last moment my resolve failed and i wimped out. sand in my crotch. surrounded by little violins playing “my heart bleeds for you.” i am ridiculous. and i laugh at myself because it really ain’t that hard once you get your ass in gear, right? right. pbbtt!
in other news, i went to this hole-in-the-ground used book store in search of some rather ancient fantasy novels. Fritz Lieber, Steven Grundy, and Meryn Peake in particular. well i found one book by Lieber so that is a start. also, i could not finish reading Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. it bored me bonkers. Right now i am reading Walter Miller’s Canticle for Liebowitz a rather grabs-you-by-the-collar post-nuclear holocaust classic. today seems like it should be dubbed Adam-overuses-the-hyphen-day.
i went to the orthodontist and he said i should be getting my braces off before my senior year of college starts. bout damn time. first thing i’m going to do once they come off is find myself a nut-covered caramel apple and a big bag of skittles.
we lost power last night in a wimpy storm. stupid powerplant almost fried every electrical object in my room when they finally got the juice back on. blessed be the surge protector.
definitive answers are an impossibility because the nature of definition implies stagnation. all is flux. the only constant is change? how can CHANGE be CONSTANT. that is like saying no-thing is some-thing. we need a new word for these dichotomies. a term that encompasses both the idea of some-thing and the lack of some-thing, which is no-thing. what is the meaning of life? 42.
i just found out that my 85 year old great uncle was Murdered. they found him in his garage with multiple stab wounds to the neck. Murdered. 85. what reason is there to Murder and 85 year old man. reason doesn’t enter into the equation, causing the problem. if the Murderer had reasoned (a socially constructed idea to be sure) Murder most likely would not have occurred. people are terrible. lack of emotional control is terrible.
i did not know my great-uncle Claude very well. in fact i only met him once about ten years ago. i remember that he seemed like a very gentle man and he tried to interest me in stamp collecting. one would think that i therefore would not be very grief filled in regard to his death. i am not. he had lived for 85 years and had raised an upstanding family and watched his children raise their own upstanding families. he had a full life. i am, however, grieved at the circumstances which led to his death. Murder. There is never any reason to kill someone except in defense of your own life or the lives of those that are defenseless. nothing on this earth is worse than the needless destruction of life. even though i am filled with a cold rage directed at the nameless, faceless Murderer, i still would not now take or ask for his life, despite the fact that he Murdered my kin.
signs you are addicted to weblogging.
1. your weblog is the startup page on your internet browser
2. you spend more time reading weblogs than doing work
3. you make lists about weblog addiction
4. when you meet friends who also blog, you talk about your respective weblogs with them (very nerdy)
5. you use words like blog, blogger, blogging, and midget pornography, in normal conversation
6. when people ask you what you have been up to lately you refer them to your blog
7. you are actually reading this list
8. you donate regularly to MetaFilter (MeFi)
9. you refer to MeFi as MeFi
10. your list of links to other weblogs exceeds 25. (totally arbitrary on my part)
11. you do complicated numerial acrobatics with your webstats in a desperate bid to see if you are getting more popular
12. you have/are a blogstalker
13. how many comments you have determines your self-esteem for the day
14. you use tags in the place of quotation marks or to add an emotion to a comment. ex: …
i’m not afraid to admit it. i am scared shitless that every time i walk into the fencing gym i am going to dislocate my kneecap again. with just reason too. since the connective tissue holding it in place is pretty much shot, i have to rely on muscle strength alone to keep it in place. and that is no guarantee. i want badly to fence and be physical yet the pain i have experienced the times i have dislocated my kneecap is too horrible to dwell on.
i cannot think about it except in the most generic way (FACT: kneecaps can be dislocated) without feeling nauseous and getting a chill. because for me it is personal (FACT: adam’s kneecap has been severely dislocated twice *shiver*) i think i would rather have a gaping flesh wound than a temporary disfigurement that gives the sensation of someone simultaneously pulling and sawing through your leg.
every night for the past week and half now i have relived this experience in a recurring dream. kneecap pops out while fencing, adam screams, falls down, writhes, pain.
and now after having actually experienced this twice (the second time requiring extensive physical therapy in order to learn to bend my leg again) i am a 21 year old with arthritis, a knee that cracks constantly, aches in tandem with the fluctuations of the barometer, and hurts severely after any physical activity. this only increases my anxiety. a little over a quarter of the way through my life, am i already limited by a physical ailment that will prevent me from doing what i want to do and being physically active?
well, watching my buddy Phil get wasted with the whole cross-country/track gang from the high school on his 21st birthday was fun. even the point when he yarfed all over my car. sure it was gross but it is only a once in a lifetime experience. i was rather silly myself. then yesterday i did a bit o swimming.
drinks i consumed friday night:
redheaded slut(shot): 1/2oz jagermeister, 1/3oz peach schnapps, cranberry juice
tequila(shot): 1.5oz tequila, salt, lemon
long island iced tea(mixed):1oz vodka 1oz gin 1oz rum 1oz tequila splash of triple sec, splash of lime juice, splash of coke, lemon
cream soda(mixed): 2oz spiced rum, sprite