One Month

It's been one month. I'm going to celebrate by going to the fair.

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Mind Bottling

I love this movie; how can you not? It's the new Zoolander.

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Wallet

In a short time, I think I will stop carrying my cell phone, probably by the end of the month. It has lost utility - and the screen is cracked. Other things I carry are suffering a similar destine. Notably, my wallet, which now drops coins regularly. I was hesitant to make this next upgrade, as RFID is used at work on the locking doors, but given that I was threatened this last week with an untimely release upon another unpunctual arrival, it seems just as well.

ThinkGeek :: RFID Blocking Wallet

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Frustrations

I want to vent into the internets, but the weekend isn't over and I imagine the story will be best told in its entirety. So far the defining moment has been breaking a ten into the Trimet ticket machine and receiving 8 of these back. That's kind of how it's been all weekend. Of course, no one can refuse legal tender. In the Eurozone is a really cool sounding phrase. I'd use it as for the name of the second album of some British rock band, were I in one.

Brother

He got a pair of Heely's, but none for me! I am jealous! A pair would have greatly increased my utility! He'll fall and die soon though; he's never learned how to skate. The transition will be killer! Muhahaha!

PBF

I really like this one, although Secret Mutant Hero Force is still my favorite.

The Perry Bible Fellowship

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Performance-enhancing use

This is why:

Because Adderall uses amphetamine stimulants to help the user
concentrate for extended periods of time, many students today request
Adderall from doctors in order to use it as a study aid. Thus, it is
increasingly popular on college campuses. The largest benefit to
students is Adderall's ability to give students the power to learn and
study what would usually be uninteresting material. Thus it is used
extensively by students wishing to pull all-nighters
to study for tests. Because of the appetite-suppressing properties of
amphetamines, it is also sought after by those wishing to lose weight.

Research done by the National Institute of Drug Abuse (NIDA) shows
the more competitive the college, the higher the incidence of stimulant
use. An article published stated the findings of a nationwide survey of
thousands of college students.^[10]
The findings of a April 2006 survey indicates 5.9% use rates among the
more competitive campuses, compared to 1.3% use rates among less
competitive campuses. Breaking down the use pattern even further, this
same sample done by NIDA reveals whites were more likely to use
stimulants compared to African Americans and Asians, at rates of 4.9%,
1.6%, and 1.3% respectively. Further, students with lower grade point
averages of B’s or below use stimulants at a rate of 5.2%, compared to
students earning B+ or above who use this medication at rates of only
3.3%. This research also specifically identified that students involved
in sororities or fraternities use stimulants at a much higher rate of
8.6% compared to nonmembers who reported use at rates of only 3.3%.^[11]

Another major concern about the use of Adderall among college
students is the psychological dependence that may cause students to
lose faith in their own ability to perform well and the dependence on
the advantageous effects of stimulant medication. Jackie Kurta, an
Alcohol and Drug Specialist at UC Santa Barbara’s Student Heath
Services states, “Students start out taking study drugs one time to
study. The drugs work so well that the students begin to lose
confidence in their own abilities to study without them,” (Hirschey).

Aside from being used by college students as a study aid, Adderall
has been used as an off label drug for weight loss. Adderall’s side
effect of weight loss and appetite suppression is a desired result for
those trying to lose weight. It is administered as part of a “cocktail”
of other off label prescription drugs that have side effects used to
treat obesity. There have not been any scientific studies performed to
evaluate the effectiveness of this form of treatment and is viewed as a
very risky and potentially dangerous way to shed pounds.^[12]

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Detox

I am glad I decided to reduce the dosage a few months ago. Thankfully, I'm not having withdrawals. But it's not a pleasant experience by any stretch. Please bare with me through the transition.
I have noticed a few fundamental changes in my personality. I am significantly more grouchy and very irritable. In the past I was grumpy from when I awoke for a time, usually diminishing shortly after breakfast or brunch or whatever. My mind is a lot more sparse as well. Writing this is hard, the sentences don't..flow. I grasp for words that aren't there. It's frustrating. I get frustrated a lot easier too. Swearing a lot more, without excuse, but without regret since I've read this. I feel retarded writing right now. I can't spell as well either. Really snippy too. Or is it snappy? I imagine that part of it is kind of like quitting smoking, where they get all irritable and whatever. I can pretend I understand that experience. I'm also not funny, saying stupid comments under my breath and such. I'm sometimes asked to repeat them louder, thinking I was speaking to them, and perhaps I was, but, man, are they stupid. My social skills, which were never incredible, feel greatly diminished. Perhaps much of this is in my head. I can't be sure. I have no idea what skills I have retained, it seems blogging isn't one of them though. I'm not as tired as I thought I would be. Grumpy though. My punctuation is all wonky, I think. I'm getting stalled, more often than I've remembered in the past. What was I doing? It escapes me so often now. It's frustrating.
So frustrating. I used to be able to do all these things! And now what? A recent text message tried to bolster my confidences:

You could do anything you wanted to with writting [sic]. So and english major would be a smart move and all schools offer that.. You are great at science and math. Both have great potential. You remember everything. Your [sic] creative. You could totally get a job with a video game developenent [sic] degree. Your [sic] limitations are like cleaning and dishes.

I feel like an ass for noting all the errors which are not such in that medium. I don't feel like I could do anything of those things right now. The limitations about dishes are still true, I have to clean the kitchen today, so...
It's a rock and hard place. I am either this Jekyll and Hyde abomination through doping or a man-child layman.
Either way, I don't like who I've become.

God, I hope it's not genetic. What does it matter? I'd make a horrible parent like this. Cursed thoughts, leave me!

Banned

So I found out today that this IP address is actually banned from making edits on Wikipedia, which kind of sucks because I like to add brackets around topics that intrigue me through the edit page instead of typing the word into the search bar.

I rented How I Met Your Mother on dvd this week upon recommendation of and with Kirsten thinking it might be fun to watch together. We watched like 6 episodes and haven't seen her since. It almost seems like she comes over to get her mojo fix and then leaves until it needs refilled. I assume that I receive a slightly choice treatment among her friends, on account of our previous relations, but even with that boon find it an unsatisfactory friendship. Of the many invitations extended, few are accepted. I propose that this may be why she finds herself with few close and many acquaintances. But I am standing too close to be objective. I concede, the show is very funny, but I found myself empathizing with the characters in this sitcom with a heart too much to really enjoy it fully.

I've begun a voyage of self-discovery. More on this later. So far, I've learned I'm really not that funny. Forget everything you thought you new [pun!] about me; it's all changing!!!

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Rocketbelt

I wish I had one!

Rocketbelt

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Hot damn.

Great satire. Awful day.

No One Sets Out To Be A Smooth Jazz Musician | The Onion - America's Finest News Source

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Definitive Decisions

I will not deny that Ms. Rowling has created an intriguing, imaginative fictional world which many people adore, my family among them. I am not one of those people. The serial has been brought up many times this past week at work among my coworkers (one of whom listens to the audiobooks on his iPod instead of actually reading them) and as a result I have formed a more concise reason of why the books just don't work for me.

1.) Dog Latin
My foreign language was Latin, which is dead. I chose it because it was the language of science, and because I have a penchant for Ancient Rome. And a great deal of English words are derived from it, allowing the lay man to both muse and ruse as a scholar of sort. For these reasons it should be granted some flexibility in academic and literary uses where it is far more practical to insert some Latin words than construct an entire language, although it has been done before, and it has an advantage over other languages which do not have any native speakers, like Esperanto. Most often, some words are invented to give the feel of another language, without icky worries of maintaining a grammatical consistency throughout. But please, just do one or the other, at very least be consistent within the pattern you establish for yourself!

2.) Twist Endings

The sorting hat always seems to have a sword in it. The same sword even! While I suppose you could make the argument that the hat serves as some sort of scabbard for it, that does not forgive the convenience that any necessary item will always appear when needed, whether by phoenix or magical mirror. I understand that magic is an integral part of the narrative, but the twist falls flat with me every time. And there's a twist in every book. First it turns out that, luckily, love protects the boy, though he seems hellbent on ending the life his parents sacrificed theirs to save by wandering into dungeons. Dumbledore, like an emaciated Santa Claus, always has a watchful eye on young Harry, even postmortem, and is able to provide not only prophetic advice but enchanted weapons at the very most favorable time, often with that damn hat. The sorting hat defies logic. It sits on children's heads, it can't be that big, yet it carries the Godric's sword on at least two occasions. It's either a really tall hat, or it has hammerspace. Which leads to the question: Why does it have hammerspace? It's a fucking singing hat. Honestly, the thing creeps me out, probably because of this one episode of Darkwing Duck where these evil aliens that looked like hats latched onto people's heads and took over their bodies. Look through the list of plot twists, you'll see that many of those same tired cliches are trod through the Harry Potter series. Is Snape good or bad? Oh it was Quirrell all along! No one would suspect him! Luckily, he turns to ashes when he touches Harry. If only he'd thought to stab instead of strangle.

3.) Quidditch
Sports are meant to be watched, not read about. No other medium can properly convey the excitement of witnessing the action, preferably firsthand. Yes, I mean you, radio sportscasts. The action is greatly obfuscated by the fact that the sport is both fictional and in 3 dimensions, which no sport, with the possible exception of water polo (which even then is only viewed from two dimensions by the audience), does. Plus the rules are retarded. Basically, catch the snitch to win and, in the mean time, bludgeon each other with these cricket bats. Pay no mind to the fact that the children playing this game wear no protective headgear or safety harnesses and fly at high speeds at altitudes that give muggles vertigo. At very least, I would hope that they would wear some sort of protective cup to shelter their manbits in case those dowels get finicky.

Honorable mention: Adverbs.

Reunion

About a week ago, or so, an assembly was called. All available staffers of Camp Ireland 2002-2004 were asked to attend a ceremonial retrieval of a time capsule buried at some point. I didn't know everyone there, having only worked 2 of the three years present. It was organized by the only person paid above the federal minimum wage, a former program director, who has (by my measure) failed to make significant progress from the point, the same standards being set far lower for those of whom were high school students at the time. He wanted group pictures, group luncheons, group activities in the same desperate way the departing seek with their posterity.

Did that seem overly wordy? I read a myspace bulletin my sister sent out about her intimate relationship with the fictional Mr. Potter and the syntax was incredibly pedantic. I wondered how she scored a 4 on the AP exam and professed a desire to be less like her in the future.

Continuing: I had a nice time seeing all these people I had forgotten. I can scarcely remember many of their actual names. There is one I can only recall as "Sharkbait". One of them, a year younger than myself (I presume), is married and has a child. I was baffled by this, though not by the revelation that a coworker, who was absent, has since come out of the closet, as it were. Even more strange was his gratitude that his latex had failed him; he considered it a blessing! For without this gift he would not have gotten a good job so that he could provide for the family he never planned to have, with the woman he freely confessed (apparently even to her, though he rebuffed this statement with one that they had since worked it out, or something) he would not have selected on his own. My mind reeled. What prevented him from seeking a fortunate profession before one was demanded of him? Surely, a position was not formed at his daughter's conception, and paternal obligations are in no way a requirement for employment, though the inverse may hold true. We did not envy his circumstances, even the eldest of us, who is a menace. He boasted of his many dates to various school dances, crowing of an "entire wall" of women he had conquered, in his way. We were quick to remind him that this life was over. One of us dared to ask, "where do you think you'd be if this hadn't happened?" His reply: on a mission.

The day was, however, ruined. The malicious act I had contrived was thwarted by that same simpleton failing to roll down a window just low enough that I could loose a legion of lady beetles into that van. I was deeply disappointed by this. Fortunately, it happened that I had the foresight to purchase a selection of liquid wasp bait for application in yellow jacket traps, which could be easily administered to any number of objects, in the same trip as the beetles. I let the beetles free in the backyard with my brother and it was fun.

200th Post: Living on my own.

My family is in Utah. It is the Mormon Mecca. And thus they travel, almost yearly, to visit relatives and see the same sites they see each time. I recall this being at least their third trip as a family for 2007, although some have a greater tally. I, conveniently, had to work. I would have declined a visit, even if it were possible. I find the slow degeneration of my grandparents uncomfortable, and, as much as I know I shall regret it someday, relinquish the opportunities to spend time with them. They've always been far off, having adventures in Washington and Europe, and my childhood was past by the time they became accessible. I can only recall 3 instances when they've come to visit us here in Oregon: Once in the mid-ninties, shortly after Ethan's birth, and for my Eagle Court of Honor. They don't really know me, and I them. But I know enough to know what they'd want and expect: things I can't present. My grandfather is a stoic man, a cold man of the Cold War. Conversations, even (or perhaps especially) those made in transit, are tense. The truths he knows about me are fading. He does not understand "the jazz" and I don't even play anymore. I was the third grandchild, from the parents they didn't think were going to make it, on shores too distant to visit. They'd ask me when I would serve a mission, I'd give a non answer. They'd ask me about music, tell me to be nicer to my siblings. They might ask about my plans, ambitions, of which I have none. I might be able to carry a conversation about current events for a while, but I am one of those damned, baby-killing liberals. World events are filtered through the lens of a former spy in East Germany and ambassador for him; a podcast and flicker set for me. The world has changed.

So I have the house to myself this weekend. It is wonderful! They were gone Thursday night and I was able to sleep in late for my evening shift at the Robin Hood Festival. Of course, it is quite perilous. My family is incredibly slothful, and I am no exception. I am also left to fend for myself, foraging and such. I also have to set my own bedtime, which Robin Hood through off. Mostly, it's been leftovers and other microwavables. The problem isn't that I will eat significantly worse than ordinarily, but simply much less. I forget that I need to eat, and will run my tank to empty, or will snag a stray granola bar to stave hunger off long enough to not only complete my current task, but become preoccupied with the next. Also, I drink way more Mountain Dew than usual and have run out.
My family made the grievous error of leaving the house a mess and will find it in greater disarray when they return, their clutter compounded my disinclination to clean their messes to such an extend that repulsion may exclude their completion in the foreseeable future. A prime example is the cat's food. For some time, my sister has neglected to feed the cat in a timely matter, in fact relying on it's prompting to usurp both her negligence and obliviousness, two fields in which she excels beyond compare. Coupled with this intermittent diet are likelyhoods of antifreeze poisoning and old age that create a very decrepit cat. Anyways, she never bothers (and though not likely her doing, she will receive the blame regardless) to remove the cat's dishes after the cat has finished. Now there are maggots in one of the dishes and trails of ants speckle the floor. My solution has been to close the door in a simple act of quarantine. I take full responsibility for the gnats around the sink, but I only feed the cat on plates, which maggots fall off of. Clearly I have no fault in this matter. And the flies are merely members of nature's recycling department: I praise their efforts!

I love you, Wikipedia

They've protected the article on Snape so I can't mention that he has a doe patronus. I'm not sure if I've spelled that right, but I've decided it doesn't matter because Rowling doesn't take the time to conjugate her latin verbs or use noun declensions (which aren't really present in the English language).

In this instance, I love the blatant vandalism. Especially when taken when this crazy foo's advice was not followed, because really, who'd want to prevent such gems? THIS IS NOT A DRILL! MAN BATTLESTATIONS!!! Silly Wikipedia..