Workhorse

i rode my bike to my internship downtown today. much better than taking the bus. cut about an hour out of my total roundtrip time. i know many of you are wondering what exactly i do at the los angeles times. so here is a description of the work i did today:

telephoned restaurant managers to confirm the restaurant's name, address and special menu items for the annual food guide.

...and that's about it. for seven hours. once again...that was...seven...hours. oh wait, i took a few five minute breaks to go to the bathroom. i guess i can't really complain. i just want your pity. i don't think i've ever been more hungry in my life. imagine describing the most devastatingly delectable dishes for a seven hour stretch. it's no fun. i'm sure i could've taken a 30 minute break to grab some food at their amazing cafeteria (or test kitchen), but i'm apparently a very determined person once i have a task in front of me. such a horrible fault, i know. no one is going to want to hire me. oh well. anyway, i gotta hit the hay now if i want to get up for a workout at 6 (never gonna happen).

Another Lame Excuse

you guys are probably wondering why there has been a lack of activity on this blog, insular jot. and the truth is, i really don't care...

...i'm kidding, of course. actually, this is going to be quite the busy and stressful week for me, as i try to settle in at my internship at the times as well as my new summer job at the business school. in addition to that, our apartment is getting a guest roommate for the summer, the younger brother of one of my other roommates. i will try to stay on top of everything and keep you guys rolling in laughter (at me, naturally), but please forgive me if my posting slips a little over the next few days. i'm sure you understand. ah, lunchbreak is slipping away, that's all for now.

The Pulse

facebook amazes me sometimes. for those of you not in the "know," facebook is a "social network" of college and high school students. basically a website where everyone can post pictures, show off their popularity and talk shit about each other. fun stuff. anyway, there is a section called the "pulse" that shows the changes in interests among the students here at usc (or whatever university you go to). it gives both the big "gainers" and the big "losers." so there are the typical categories like music, books, movies, etc. the last category is "interests." the list of "losers" in the interests category this week at usc is topped by "life." that's a little sad and depressing, isn't it people? we're no longer interested in life. however, the big gainer is chocolate. is this an indicator that people are dumping their lovers for the summer? everyone is getting dumped, getting depressed and tired of life, and eating chocolate in the depths of despair? and watching braveheart?!?! and listening to switchfoot and kelly clarkson?!?! people, this needs to stop!

Reentry

well, the wait is finally over. i'm back in l.a. and will hopefully be flooding the blogosphere once again with my deluded ramblings. i have just a few things to mention right off the bat.

don't ever go to fresno during the summer, or any time approaching what may be considered a "warm month."

i'm glad real time with bill maher is over until august, because every time i watch that show i want to advocate assassination. (if that comment results in a visit from the fbi, the cia, the nsa, or one of the many other spy agencies currently monitoring my email account, phone calls, blog posts, aim chats, blood pressure and white t-cell count, then i think we can all agree that it's for the best. after all, i could've been a terrorist).

a friend sent me this link and i found it quite interesting. even if some of it is pretty shaky, there does seem to be a crapload of evidence against the government's explanation for 9/11. in fact, there seems to be a crapload of evidence against believing anything the government tells us these days. but i digress. watch the vid, if your computer allows, and decide for yourself.

Rich Get Richer

tax cuts about to passed. to "stimulate the economy." except middle to lower classes will see maybe $20 in savings, while the top 0.1% will see about $82,000. the thing about the richest 0.1% is that they don't fucking spend their money, they hoard it. so if you want to stimulate the economy, mr. prez, how about giving some money to people who will actually spend it? i'll stop politiking now.

"summer break" is almost over. can't wait to get back to socal. it's been in the mid-90's around here. no fun. faithfully sweating it out for you guys on the second floor where the computer is located, i hope you appreciate the effort.

Unimpressed

i was thoroughly disappointed by the opening segment of the cbs evening news. one story in particular caught my eye. it was a story on identity theft. the basic plotline/content: woman lost her wallet, thieves mortgaged houses in her name, got away with $177,000, identity theft sucks. they didn't address a couple of key questions that probably every viewer would want to know, even if they didn't know they wanted to know. first of all, is the woman responsible for paying off the mortgages? or is the bank going to lose out on the money? and if i lose my wallet, what can i do to prevent someone from stealing my identity? the woman's story was somewhat interesting, if you care about stuff like that. but what was the premise of the story? that identity theft exists and it sucks? thanks guys, we already knew that. tell us something worthwhile, something meaningful, something we can use or apply in our own lives.

Haitus From Responsibility

well, folks, that wraps up another semester. i leave for home today (it is after midnight) for a few days and then i'll be heading back down to l.a. for hopefully a great summer. i may not be posting as much during my stay in fresno, but chances are i will get bored and actually post more, so don't worry, faithful readers.

Cyanide and Happiness Redux

i've linked to this site before, but this one was just too good not to mention. enjoy.

Career Campaigners

from an l.a times article:

## "I don't think the question is, 'Will the Republicans lose [seats in] the midterm election?' " said G. Terry Madonna, a political scientist at Franklin & Marshall College in Lancaster, Pa. "The question is, 'How badly will they lose?' "

As a result, some Republican incumbents who thought themselves secure are girding for the worst by stockpiling campaign cash and, where necessary, spending it early. To coordinate political strategy, House GOP leaders have begun holding weekly meetings for staff members of about a dozen of the most vulnerable Republicans. ##

this is the problem with the political system in this country. it's not about creating laws and policy and representing the constituency. the only thing politicians are concerned with is being a politician (having power) and ensuring that they will remain a politician ( in power). what kind of a job focuses almost completely on simply retaining that job? as soon as they win their seat or position their focus automatically shifts to the next election and they start "stockpiling campaign cash" and "holding weekly meetings" to strategize on how to keep that seat or position. how many members of congress actually look at an issue and decide for themselves and their constituencies how they should vote, instead of slamming down the party stamp? they are all puppets of a few political masterminds behind the scenes in each party, or worse yet, a few corporate masterminds behind the scenes in each party, providing their puppets with the financial backing to keep the strings intact. am i living in denial? does the majority of this country not realize this? do they even care?

Deadliest Catch

ah, the deadliest catch on the discovery channel. fishing for crab in the bering sea. that would be the life. not literally, of course. just conceptually. the manual labor, the danger, the freezing winds, the fierce seas. and a year's salary in a few weeks. it's a give-and-take.

Success!

here's the update:

1. workout - done

2. laundry - not enough quarters, postponed

3. take-home final - done

4. pesto - 2 containers purchased

5. guitar - about to take place

wow. except for the laundry, which faced technical difficulties, it was a pretty successful day. maybe i should plan out every day like this. i probably would, but i'm not anal-retentive. oh well. back to chaos.

Motivation Proclamation

i feel like my last few posts have been a little pretentious, so let me just do this: boobs. okay, that's better. now, here's my plan for the day. i'm going to check back this evening and see how much i actually accomplished.

1. workout (woohoo, already done)

2. do laundry

3. do take-home final for law of mass comm

4. go to ralphs and buy out their pesto reserves while they are still on sale

5. practice guitar seriously for an hour

i think that's ambitious enough. we'll see how well this works as a form of motivation.

Nonchalance

there's something that happens in the course of a night dedicated to insobriety, a night given over to the thrills of the ever-affable gathering of a beer pong game. it usually occurs, depending on the alcohol tolerance level and psychological self-influence of those in question, during the second or third round. the mind becomes diffused with a strange sense of weightlessness. the body functions on mere motor memory. there emerges in certain individuals, myself included, an almost preternatural ability to loft that thin-shelled sphere with little effort or thought and guide it directly into the opponent's chalice. this doesn't occur in the early going; the mind is too focused on the task, too self-aware, and the hand falters. but it is certainly a phenomenon seen in other walks of life, this collusion between nonchalance and success. only in those situations in which one has a great deal of self-investment does failure seem to appear with greater frequency.

it is also of great import to add that there is a fine line between nonchalance and ineptitude. this can be further explicated with the beer pong model. a player, once finding success with a nonchalant approach, often digresses to a point of total placidity that renders his shot useless. this stage is usually accompanied by fits of anger and confusion at the sudden turn of events. fortunately, this stage is rather temporary, as the player is often forced to consume large amounts of alcohol from both sides of the table and subsequently passes out. in summation, nonchalance is a very powerful tool, both in the arena of beer pong and in the arena of life, but it must be applied with care, as it is often the cause of many a downfall.

Vice

ah, here we are, once again arriving at a holiday that for many has been divested of its inceptive import, persisting only as a pretext for wholesale consumption of inebriants. i levy no castigation, of course, on these poor souls, who yearn for nothing but the stuporous emancipation from their servile existence via dipsomaniacal saturation. it is, after all, our most societally admissible transgression.

i've always had a problem with the "save water, drink beer" maxim. most beer consists of around 90% water, with some varieties even approaching 97% water content. by drinking beer, not only are we still consuming water, and consequently not "saving" it, but the dehydrating effect of imbibing the fermented beverage elicits even more water intake. if the true goal is water conservation, supplanting beer as a source of liquid nourishment is quite obviously a step in the wrong direction.

Responsibilities

after i post this, and maybe a story on enough necktie, i'm off to take the second-to-last of my finals, french 3. then it's time to relax until monday, when i take my last final, blaxploitation. and then i'm home for a week. then i'm back for the summer. then i have two more semesters of class. first one, serious, second one, ballroom dancing and chess, most likely. then i'll need to find a job, a wife, father children, buy a home, start a college fund, grow old, write my best-selling memoirs and finally have no responsibilities again. piece of cake, right?

Over Before It Begins

i just started to read the plague by camus. i bought a sort of anthology of some of his works; the plague, the fall and some essays. i normally don't do this, but i read the introduction. and i shouldn't have. the lousy bastard gave away what appears will be a key element to the plague. the point of the introduction is to introduce, not to ruin the novel i'm about to read. never again. as nice guy eddie says in reservoir dogs, "first things fuckin' last." should've known better. now i'm going to have to try to put it out of my head, which of course is completely impossible. thanks, intro writer. i really appreciate it. ever know someone who would skip to the end of the book to see what happened? that's not me. i don't want everything laid out for me. i prefer to think, to unravel, to question. no need to spell it all out. give us a little mystery, eh? sorry, i've been watching the bbc version of the office. catchin' a bit of the lingo as it were. damn. i'll stop now.

Nightmares

now, usually i don't remember my dreams. but i woke up this morning with one very clear in my mind. so i immediately jumped out of bed and madly typed it all down. despite how lengthy it is, i'm going to paste it here in the exact form in which i wrote it this morning. enjoy:

I'm in a car with Moorehead, and I think he's driving back from some huge party (don't ask me why I'm in a car with that fairy). Anyway, he pulls up to a red light, but he stops like 10 feet from the line. I look at him and say, "Pull up, jackass," and I wave my hand. And he just goes through the light. I yell, "What the fuck are you doing, I just said 'pull up' to the line!"

We start coming up to another red light and I say, "Do I need to tell you to stop and go every time we get to a light now?" totally joking around, and he just runs right through the light. At this point I'm screaming, "Are you fuckin' kidding me!" and right then a cop drives by with his lights on. I say to Moorehead, "You are so fuckin' lucky that cop didn't see you," and just then the cop skids to a stop and starts turning around in the median as we pass him.

I tell Moorehead, "Just pull off because he's going to get you anyway, and this way it will look like you are cooperating." Moorehead drives over the median into oncoming traffic, then off the other side into some little gated community type place. I'm going crazy, telling him to just park the fuckin' car, and he parks it all lopsided and crazy and shit. Then I look over at him, and he has a gun in his hand for some reason.

The cop comes up, opens the door and tells him to put his hands outside. He pulls Moorehead from the car, screaming, "You're dead, motherfucker!" I'm in the passenger seat with another gun that apparently is mine, so I place it on the seat so the cop can see it. He looks at it, then at me, and I say, "It's mine officer, totally legal and everything. I just thought you should know about it." He rubs his eyes and shakes his head and says, "I didn't see that, just put it away." So I put it in the glove compartment.

Then he's in the backseat, telling Moorehead to drive me home. Then he asks us if we've been drinking or smoking, which we actually haven't. Moorehead doesn't say a fucking word. Apparently he's gone mute. I say, "Not at all officer, I don't drink or smoke. I think Moorehead smokes cigarettes or something, don't you Moorehead?" and I look on the floor for a pack or a lighter or something to show the cop. And there's a little box with a pipe, a lighter and a baggie of weed, then another huge bag of weed on the floor.

In my head I'm thinking, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," so I keep the cop preoccupied until we get to my place. Then the cop gets out and is all excited because it's a dome house, and I'm almost to my front door when I realize I forget my gun in the glove compartment. My mom and dad are out in the yard and my mom is in a bathrobe for some reason. She follows me back to the car, asking me what I'm doing.

I don't want her to see the gun, so I'm trying to keep her from seeing the gun as I get it from the glove compartment while I'm also trying to keep the cop from seeing the weed on the floor of the car. I finally get the gun out and Moorehead and the cop take off, with the cop in the passenger seat, totally about to notice all the weed on the floor and bust Moorehead for sure.

Orange Vests

at the intersection of 34th st. and mcclintock on campus there is a crossing guard nazi. there are other crossing guards that rotate through the area as well, but none of them take their job as seriously as the crossing guard nazi. those of you who have experienced the crossing guard nazi know what i'm talking about. "hold on the corners! stay between the crosswalk lines! get off your bike! no bikes on the sidewalk! walk your bike through the intersection! i'm going to eat your baby if you don't keep your stroller in the crosswalk! i saw your wheel cross that line, i'm afraid you're going to need to hand over your baby. ma'am, the child, please. i'm just doing my job. NOW!" okay, maybe not that last part, but i'm pretty sure she's yelling it in her head. and now i have nightmares about orange vests.

iLife

i just saw a commercial for macintosh computers. synopsis: two guys standing next to each other, one tells the other about all the "iProducts" that come with macs. he calls it "iLife." i don't think i want an iLife. i'd rather have...myLife. it's not governed by consumerism and materialism. not very common or popular these days. but it's free and doesn't come with aol.

The Edge of Reason

i began to realize something as i sat on the wall and watched the guy in the lane next to me put on his paddles, pull buoy, and fins, and that is that no matter where i go or what i do in life, i will never escape stupid people. i half-expected him to strap his gear bag around his neck and tie a few gatorade jugs to his waist. they are all around us, people, and if you don't think that's true...you're one of them.