30 09 2004

Oh yeah

26 09 2004

My dad has Lyme Disease. Go figure.

Collecting bugs soon…

26 09 2004

I’m watching Six Feet Under right now. The show is great. The opening credits are amazing, as I’ve already related to Davey. It’s odd and sterile and earthy, all at the same time. The material of the show is excellent, too.

We hosted a party last night, and I pulled a couple bone-headed moves. One, I left a pizza in the oven from about 3am till Dave shut it off at 6am. Now the house smells like seriously crispy carbon. Yikes.

Two, I was reprimanded by a bud because we were supposed to give two girls our numbers. When I was giving mine, I said something along the lines of how she was just punching in zeros and wasn’t taking my number. She got angry, and she and her friend left. This sucks because (a) I don’t remember a damn bit of it and (b) they were really cute (according to Rishi). So there you have it.

It has always seemed to me that people are more themselves when drunk. They let loose and let their guard down or say what they really feel. My freshman year roommate drank a bit and would yell at me some times. He was a mean drunk, and I think it showed that I was getting on his nerves only when he’d drink. I think my blowing this number exchange indicates my underlying cynicism of my ability to “get” women. By “get” women, I mean asking them out and pursuing some kind of relationship. I always had this low self-confidence because I’ve been blown off a lot, and, as one friend pointed out, you get more optimistic when things work out well and more pessimistic when they don’t. So I guess right now I’m on the low end of the spectrum. I don’t let that get me down too much, though. I figure if I go out there and just keep doing my thing, I’ll meet someone I connect with and who enjoys doing said thing as well.

I better head to bed. Bug collecting early. It’s so nerdy but so true.


25 09 2004

My dad has Lyme Disease.

Like a storm report: worst day on record

22 09 2004

Wow. Another shame of Wisconsin.

So, life’s been shitty lately .. particularly today. It all started at midnight … when I was still awake. I went to bed around 3:30, making my total sleep amount suck. I woke up at 6:15 to finish the work I couldn’t stay awake for last night, including some news writing homework and my lab prep quiz (which still has to be retaken.)

After going to news writing, which went OK, I hit up math, in which I raced to finish my pre-lab summary for Chem. I then left five minutes early to race to the bookstore and buy chem goggles. I got the goggles, then ran back to chem for my 11-2 lab. My partner and I worked well together, but we almost didn’t finish the lab in time. As I was eeking out the last answers, the fire alarm went off for a drill, and we all had to go outside, so I did that, then turned in my answers to my TA.

I left the chem lab at 2:15 on my way to do some field work for my job from 2:30-6:00. Went out in the field and could barely keep my eyes open as I counted wasps and the amount of time they stayed to feed at their food source.

My boss drove me home, and I got there at about six. It was then that I found out I hadn’t given my football voucher to my roommate so he could turn it in for front row tickets. That’s number three in a series of football ticket-related incidences where I fucked up royally. I don’t even have the energy to care about my horrible ticket fiasco, and I don’t think I will. Period.

I can see quite a few Wednesdays being like this if I don’t try to get rid of my crap-ass Tuesday shift at Ed’s. That’s valuable study time to me right now, so I think I’ll be trying to get it and maybe pick up a early Saturday shift on my “on weekend”.

I’m really trying to focus on the good and funny things that happened today instead. Here’s a list (counting my blessings):

I got to have a couple long conversations with the “godfather of wasps” … literally. Apparently he’s the world’s leading researcher in social wasp behavior, and he’s my boss. AWESOME!

When I was watching the wasps for my research, I got an idea of their personalities, which sounds funny, but tis true. They are numbered by dots of paint on their backs, so I learned three numbers. 18 is a pig and eats all the time, 19 is huge and not very spatially oriented, and 20 is a klutz that keeps falling into the sugar water and messing up her wings.

A girl at the bookstore offered me a free coke when I found out they didn’t accept credit cards. I thanked her a ton, then, as I was walking away, I found $1 and gave it to her.

I haven’t been shot down in a while, and while that may change soon, I’m happy-go-lucky.

I’m ready to sleep.


22 09 2004

I need a hug.

Go Billy! It’s ya birthday!

21 09 2004

Once I thought my innocence was gone
Now I know that happiness goes on
That’s where you found me
When you put your arms around me
I haven’t been there for the longest time

– Billy Joel

Aw shucks. I’m organizing a party I may not attend. I need to get Friday night off of work (2 shifts) or I’m fucked. I have a lot of work to do right now, though.



20 09 2004


My homepage is set to and the main story today was this.

To use a cliche, it’s a vicious cycle of hate. They kill us, fostering hate, then we torture and taunt them, creating more hate back at us. Hate and fear feed each other, too. Who’s right? We both believe we’re working fir the right, but we have different methods. And how is waging an unfound war any different? It only caused us more pain and is reminding me of everything I’ve heard about Viet Nam, minus the mass death. Still, we’ve topped 1,000 deaths in the war. In all fairness, that includes accidental deaths and non-combat deaths. That still wouldn’t have happened if no one showed up there.

Now we see the enemy (and by enemy, I mean the people doing the killing on their side) demanding women from American prisons in Iraq that most likely don’t exist. We have two female “high-value detainees”, but we probably don’t have any other women. Maybe the US is lying, but I don’t think so.

Kerry said today that “Saddam Hussein was a brutal dictator who deserves his own special place in hell. But that was not, in itself, a reason to go to war. The satisfaction we take in his downfall does not hide this fact: We have traded a dictator for a chaos that has left America less secure.”

This life will be a scary life.

Good God

20 09 2004

Oh so busy. I’ve decided “fuck it”, and here’s why:

My hair is becoming a problem in a few ways, and it needs to be cut. Long hair doesn’t suit me as much as shorter, shaggy hair or very short hair, so that’s what I’m going for. My hair’s getting knotted and requires a lot of brushing, plus it gets in my face and requires a lot of shampoo and conditioner. I admire ladies for putting up with long hair.
Also, I understand that many men with long hair look like women from behind, which sucks. I was almost hit on on Saturday night when a guy came up from behind and started laying the moves on, then said, “Oh shit. I thought you were a lady.” Yikes. As soon as I can get a good stylist or barber enlisted, it shall be so.
Also, I feel “fuck it” because I’m being a dumbass about keeping up with school work and keeping the house clean. It needs to be done, and I need to find the energy to do it. No more stupid-ass midday naps unless I have the means and the time.

In further news, here are random thoughts:

I’ve come to the conclusion that Chancellor John Wiley is A. a once-every-50-minutes smoker and B. a very busy man. I saw him smoking at 9:40 while walking into class on Bascom Hill, and he was pacing, smoking and reading a document. As I left class at 10:45, he was also pacing, smoking and reading a document (possibly prior document.) I wanted to say hi, but I would have had to say something rather than just “Hi, Chancellor Wiley.” If I knew any of his current agendas, I maybe could have mentioned one, but I know from earlier talks with him that he hates to be bugged on smoke breaks, since people that bug him then are not generally on his list of appointments and have their own agendas.

Women who wear the standard pleated, ruffled or torn-looking short skirts on a regular basis come off as sluts, whether they are or not. There’s a difference between “trendiness”, class and a good fashion sense, and they only have one. Trendiness is stupid since some great things come in trends along with he worst things. To file in the bad category: Ugg(lie)s and ponchos … or whatever the fuck those things are. The coasties will be “so over” that style by the end of this semester.
I admire girls who dress uniquely but with taste, style and elegance without showing off their daddy’s personal funding supply.

Life is insane, and it’s time to clean the bathroom.


19 09 2004

– Mason Jennings

sleeping in a cherry tree
high above a monastery
where the bells are ringing slow
to say farewell when hours go
and all the while I’m dreaming of
the ballad for my one true love
searching for the perfect way to say
i love you
sweetheart, this is my dream come true
and god bless the babies
that sleep in you
god bless the babies
that sleep in you
sleeping in a motel room
underneath a silver moon
with the windows open wide
i can hear the stars go by
and all the while I ‘m dreaming of
the ballad for my one true love
searching for the perfect way to say
i love you
sweetheart, this is my dream come true
and god bless the babies
that sleep in you
god bless the babies
that sleep in you