Cola Wars

June 10th, 2007 / #dreams, #random

I am not a sickly person. The last time I got sick was a little over a year ago when I mysteriously got mono at about the time I got a girlfriend. Now that I’ve been a single guy for the better part of a year, I have been able to avoid contact with germs and what have you, thereby avoiding illness altogether.

However, last Tuesday, I woke up feeling absolutely drained. I was fatigued and sort of nauseous, but I went along with my day and these symptoms wore off. I figured that I had dodged the bullet, but I was wrong. The next three days were a living hell.

It literally hurt to move any muscle on my body. It’s like I was laid out on one of those medieval torture tables and stretched until the muscles on my appendages were just lifeless masses of jelly. I had a fever and, much to my chagrin, there wasn’t one aspirin in the house.

Now, some might say that I have the flu. My theory is way more fun.

I’ve been watching the History and Discovery Channels lately, and they tell me that people who are possessed by demons have a history of waking up completely worn out and bruised, as if they were literally fighting with their demons while they slumber. Is it any coincidence that for the past week, I have been having non stop dreams about my new arch nemesis, soda pop? I’m not saying that I am possessed by the ghost of John Pemberton or anything, but it certainly would explain a lot.

I Love Lamp

May 1st, 2007 / #awesomeness, #random

There is a lava lamp in my room. I’ve had it for years, but I’ve only turned plugged it in on occasion, and even then it was so that my friends or people who come into my room think I’m cooler than I actually am. To me, a lava lamp signifies that you are a rebel of sorts: one who sees no need for conventional lighting in spite of the fact that lava lamps are really, really bad at shedding enough light on any given situation. If I were to use my lava lamp as my only source of illumination, I doubt I could get my pants on in a pitch black room. But I digress.

Yesterday, I had to unplug my lava lamp to make way for a real lamp. A guy’s gotta study for exams, after all, and a dim red cylinder with bubbles of effluvious goo just isn’t going to cut it.

That said, though, I really, really miss the lamp. It sits on my desk as I type, a skeleton of its former self. While a lava lamp isn’t by any means a beacon of luminosity, it says something about the person who owns it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just insecure.

That said, goodbye, traditional lamp. I’m plugging in my lava lamp again.

The New Jan Brady!

April 22nd, 2007 / #college, #girls, #random

For lack of one solid, lengthy, and coherent idea, here’s a bunch of little things:

  • For some reason, the Web site was acting up for about a month. I kept putting it off and putting it off, but I decided to fix it. Hooray for WordPress themes and the spare time to play around with the code therein.
  • I gave a homeless man playing the accordion a dollar today outside of the grocery store. I usually don’t do that kind of thing, but Dude has no eyes. So, me being the double-eyeball-having kind of guy I am, I felt guilty. On second thought, though, I could have just taken all the money from his jar. Dude has no eyes.
  • Final exams are few and far between. This is nice, but it is also kind of inconvenient, since I’m sitting here like a lump for days at a time while I wait for the next test to start.
  • I tried to learn the mandolin. Apart from a few songs and chords, that endeavor is playing second fiddle to my new passion: weightlifting. I originally thought that playing the mandolin would attract girls. Now, they tell me it’s lifting weights. I’m just waiting for that to go out of style and make way for a new pastime. Sort of like the blessed transition from baseball cards to Pogs. (By the way, I know I am very weak. I can curl 40 whole pounds!)
  • I gave up drinking soda, and am proud to say that as of today, it’s been four glorious, decaffeinated weeks. I am dying to have an orange soda.
  • So, there you have it. If you find any navigational problems with the new layout, shoot me an email.

    Waiting for my Sea Legs

    April 15th, 2007 / #movies, #random

    I don’t aspire to much in this life. The way I see it, if you don’t really have goals, you’ll never be disappointed by what the cosmos throw your way. Life is an adventure, really; as long as you get out of that adventure happier than you were when you began, it was a success.

    I mention this because tonight, I’ve done something pretty unusual for me: I’ve come up with a goal in this life.

    I was watching Jaws. Usually, such a film would bring fear and terror of the ocean into a man. However, seeing the characters in the movie on the high seas, talking about old adventures and lost loves really makes me want to have a part of that world. Now, I am no sailor. I squirm at the thought of having to touch a live fish. I have no idea how to tie a rope. If my boat were to run out of gas in the middle of the Southern Caribbean, I would probably sit there and wait to die. Point is, I’m a pansy.

    However, I’m a young Turk. I’m anticipating having about sixty more years on this big blue ball. In that time, I figure I can grasp the concept of sailing somehow. Which leads me to my life goal: when I retire, I want to live on a houseboat.

    Judge me now or judge me later, loyal readers. But that, my friends, is the beauty of ambition.

    Not again!

    July 20th, 2006 / #pictures, #random

    If you have been reading my pointless ramblings for some time now, maybe you can recall the time my chair snapped in two from right under me while I was computing.

    I thought gravity had finished with me. Not true. Though I’ve relocated my computer and begun to use a sturdy, wooden chair, it seems that the cruel gods of chair fortune had something else in store for me.

    Ladies and gentlemen, it happened again:

    Not again!

    I should get out more.

    Thanks a lot, Mother Nature

    July 11th, 2006 / #cars, #random

    I love my car. It may not be the fastest set of wheels on the road (I sold that car a few months ago, sadly), but it’s a lovable little car. She’s black, sleek, and roomy. What’s probably most important is the fact that she’s mine. It is for this reason that I trust nobody with her. I keep her clean as a whistle, too. There are no little bits of paper in the storage compartments, no crumbs in the cracks of the seats, and when there’s too much dirt on the floor of the car, I know that it’s time for a cleaning. But I don’t just vacuum, I give my car the most deluxe automotive spa treatment available. I let nobody else do this for fear of their screwing up my tried and tested cleaning schedule.

    First, I give the car a hose down. Then comes the standard wash (I’ve used a variety of products for this, but I’ve found that most of them are pretty much the same. So, I use Zip Wax car wash formula by Turtle Wax.). I hit the roof of the car, go down to the rear window and work on the windshield. Lather and rinse. Then, I get the sides, one by one, and finally scrub the hood and trunk area. Lather and rinse. Then I dry, windows first and body second. I then use Meguiar’s Back to Black formula on my plastic car parts, door handles and the rear view mirror cases. Next, I use Turtle Wax’s specialized automotive window cleaner on all glass of my car, inside and outside. Then, I go for Turtle Wax’s wheel shine formula on each of my wheels, followed by tire gloss of the same brand. Finally, I go to the interior and use Armor All on every inch of the cabin. This rubdown is followed by a thorough vacuuming of all parts of the interior (trunk space included!).

    I know that last paragraph was long and monotonous to read. I just want to convey to you the insane amount of work I put into my car today in hopes that the next sentence will have a profound effect on you and that you understand my extreme anger and agony:

    It is now raining.

    There Aren't Enough Hours in a Day

    June 13th, 2006 / #random

    So, I’ve completely messed up my sleep schedule.

    Generally speaking, now that it’s summer, I stay up for 13 hours daily and sleep for the remaining 11. But I have a nasty habit of going to bed later each night than I did before, so my daily routine of going to bed at 4:00 A.M. and waking up at 3:00 is slowly turning into a progressive cycle in which I will soon go to bed at 5:00 and wake up at 4:00. Five o’clock will soon turn into 6:00 A.M., at which time I don’t think I will be able to justify going to sleep at the beginning of a new day.

    I wish people had daylight savings time every other day. Then, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.

    You're a towel!

    April 25th, 2006 / #observations, #random

    A couple of years ago, I became fortunate enough to stumble across a particular towel in my linen closet. It was blue, big enough to make a skirt of absorption in which I could roam the house under the guise of actually being clothed, and best of all, it was absorbent.

    I’ve found that in life, about 98% of towels made are not absorbent; they merely sop up the water from your skin and become a slosh of fibers and hard water from the shower. But this one, it’s different. I can dry every inch of every crevice of my wet and naked body without having to switch to another towel.

    Now, I’m afraid that my beloved blue angel is no more. Mom convinced me to send Towlie to the great washing machine in the sky. It was time, though – he was tattered and torn so much that you would think Ive been using him to dry my pet porcupine.

    In the meantime, I’ve switched to another towel. And while this one is much larger (I can envelop myself like a human burrito), it lacks the principle quality of absorption that I’ve taken for granted during the last two years of my high school career. This upsets me, so I think I will protest the absence of an acceptable drying device in my home by not showering for a while. Then, maybe someone with whom I reside will notice the wretched stench and toss a suitable towel my way.

    And no, I do not have a pet porcupine.

    The most boring post ever

    February 8th, 2006 / #random

    This is inconsequential. But it’s pretty important to me. I’ve made a drastic life change. And while it may not matter to you, while you may say, “Who cares? The whole idea of sharing this with the world is utterly pointless,” while you may just close this window and go about your day, just remember that for me to change anything about myself is pretty extreme. See, I love regimented systems wherein I always have a particular way of doing things such that everything is just so.

    Anyhow, I’ve made the executive decision to make the letter I with one stroke of the pencil while writing from here on out. See, I’m avoiding the two horizontal lines at the top and bottom of the central column so that people can differentiate the letter I from the letter T, which they have trouble differentiating from the letter J, which they have trouble differentiating from the letter S. I’m taking the first step toward legible recovery. My teachers should be proud.

    And grateful. Very grateful.

    He'll probably just ride away

    October 25th, 2005 / #random

    About four months ago, I was obsessed with the idea of being a cowboy. Not one of the modern ones with WIFI and GPS and all of those other technological acronyms, but one of the classic cowboys: one who eats beans from the can and sleeps next to his doggies on the prairie and rides into town on a black steed named Silver to give the town villain his comeuppance.

    I’m fully aware that these types of cowboys didn’t really exist. So, I dropped my infatuation with the impossible and continued with my mundane city life. But lately, Willie Nelson has convinced me to spit in the face of reality and imagine my days away. And now I want to invest in a nice pair of cowboy boots and a high quality cowboy hat.

    I don’t care if I can’t pull off the hat. I want to be a cowboy, darn it.

    • Who I Am

      I'm a nobody from Florida with things to say (sometimes).

    • What This Is

      This is a not-so-detailed account of my adolescence over the course of almost a decade. Here, I shared my thoughts about things of no real consequence while at the same time being reckless with semicolons and flowery language.

      I used this website to connect with folks before Facebook. Today, I sometimes chronicle interesting thoughts and observations I have. I don't update as much as I should.

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