Fans

It's funny that when bloggable things happen to me I'm much too busy to write about them until long after they happen. In fact, I don't have much time now, and even though it was midterms just finished this week, I already have a shitload of homework to turn in starting Monday. Such is the life of an engineering major, I suppose. Sigh. Anyway...

This is a picture of my sister and I with Martha Wainwright.
We met her in that concert I wrote about way back in September. Seriously, I think I'm in love with Martha. She's so beautiful and sexy, just like her voice.

When you meet someone famous, you want to say something good, perhaps something profound or maybe something about how their work has touched you, anything at all that doesn't make you look like a drooling idiot fan. I wanted to say something like that, but I was so fucking starstruck that all I could say was, "Hi! Uh...um, could we get a picture?"

Oh, who cares? She held my shoulder and my arm did brush against her boob. Score!

Push-Ups

The door of our classrom, for some reason, leads right out to the street. My third-year high school religion teacher, Mr. Ines, walked through this door today, right into our engineering class. He looks a lot like Bob Dylan on the cover of Highway 61 Revisited. Above anything else, it was his resemblance to Dylan that made me respect him. But today he was acting funny.

I thought it a bit strange to give a bunch of engineering seniors a religion class, but I figured that since this was Mr. Ines giving it, it was going to be interesting. He began his lecture without much ado, asking us to name things that caused people to lose electricity and writing our answers on the board. Clearly he was somehow going to relate all this talk about losing power to Christ, so we were in for one of his unorthodoxed but fascinating classes.

Someone cited a reason for power loss I didn't hear, something to do with power plant failures. I had been distracted because Jeneva had spilled water in my area, some of which got in my bag, and I had to wipe the mess up. When I got back to my seat, I saw that what Mr. Ines had written down on the board had nothing to do with power plant failures. He had written down one word, just one long word, one I'd never seen before, a word I've already forgotten. All I remember about this word is that it begins with an A.

I turned and asked Jon, who was seated behind and to the left of me, "What did he just write?"

Jon replied, "I don't know, what is that?"

Mr. Ines was clearly not pleased with our talking. He let his last sentence trail off and added, "...because Jon isn't listening."

At this, Mr. Ines angrily stepped out of the classroom and crossed the street. It was dark out now. He took a poster that was laying on the grass on the sidewalk across the street. I couldn't see the poster very well, but it was black and, judging by red-and-yellow lettering on it, it was an ad for either an old Curtis Mayfield album or the new one by Go-Kart Mozart. He ripped the poster up, letting the shreds fall where they might. He then walked over to the middle of the street where he started to do push-ups furiously, his face contorting with the effort and his rage.

And then suddenly, my alarm went off and I awoke to the closing strains of the Pumpkins' "Today."

Fitness Made Simple

Today during geotech lab the class was performing the modified proctor test on a soil sample. This test required us to lift 44.5-newton hammer 0.46 meters repeatedly over the three hours of lab period.

Because of all the exercise we were getting from the lab, I made a snide comment that "I bought a Bowflex for nothing." The class then got into a pretty serious discussion about the merits of this particular piece of fitness equipment. Surprisingly, a good part of our class has had experience with the Bowflex and they unanimously agreed that the it was not very good. "That's because it isn't endorsed by fitness expert John Basedow," I chimed in.

We all shared a good laugh at Mr. Basedow's expense until Hume said, "He's dead, you know. He died in the Tsunami." For a while, none of us believed this to be true. When we finally accepted that it was, we all felt terrible, or at least I did, for having just made fun of Mr. Basedow, who really wasn't that bad, after all. I mean, come on, he'd made a fortune making people fit. He was noble that way, even. And his body was just to good to go to waste like that. Tsk, tsk.

Well, I just found out that fitness expert John Basedow is alive and well. Phew! It's good to know you are okay, Mr. Basedow.

Wonderfalls

I came across this great show today in between breaks from studying from my steel design midterm on monday. To ensure that this post is without pretense, I am writing it before I check what the hipsters (who are the authority, of course) have to say about the show.

I find it very funny, very oddball, and even kind of touching at times. The heroine is very beautiful too, she reminds me of someone...dear (see previous post). I think it's been cancelled (because apparently it is a law among the networks to cancel good shows, e.g. Freaks and Geeks, Eerie Indiana), and that's why I was watching it on a cable channel that is way up there on the dial.

That channel is called Logo, and I'd been noticing it recently. It's been playing a lot of good shows and has been filling some of the emptiness that was left inside of me when I lost two great channels in Trio and IFC. And then I noticed that a lot of the trailers Logo was running for their shows had a lot of guys kissing each other. It turns out that Logo is a gay, lesbian, and bi channel. Mostly gay.

Now I do not have a problem with this, but I have to admit, some of the macho alarms went off in my head. I just find it a bit odd that I'd been watching this channel for some time and didn't know that it was a gay channel. I am not a homophobe--I have gay friends, like...I can't name any right now, but they do exist. You gotsta believe me! I am very tolerant!

Rich's Sad Love Story, Part II (Oh, the Drama!)

My friend Iman (whose stuff is linked to the left) reminded me again a few weeks ago to finish my story, and so before I chicken out again...

The last time I saw her when she was still somewhat at ease with me, I told her some things that changed all that, things that, to some inexplicable extent, I still mean today. I took a break from all the work I'd been doing today to go to the shops and I was suddenly reminded of how liberating it feels to just leave and forget about responsibility for a while. I thought about her, like I still do every day, and I remembered that the last time I went out regularly was with her, and how happy that made me. I guess there's no way to sound unsentimental about all this so I'll quit while I still have some dignity left. I haven't heard her voice in ten months, haven't spoken to her properly in eleven but, wherever she is, I pray she's happy.