Nostalgia Pal...
...gia?
I have a lot to look forward to. No, really, I believe that. I know there are places I'm going to see, people I'm going to meet, and (possibly) a family to start of my own - all of which sounds fantabulous, In spite of all of this, I came to a realization today and it didn't exactly make me feel all warm and fuzzy.
Many of the moments in my life that I'll remember as my happiest, could have already come and gone.
I could be dead wrong, and I hope I am, but I really think it's true. I don't know if anyone else experiences this, but every once in a while I am hit with a somewhat random, intense bout of what I can only call "nostalgia." It's like one of those crystalizing flashbacks where everything sort of moves in slow motion and you can almost smell, taste, see, and in every other way relive a snippet of your past. It's almost enough to make you want to cue a dramatic swell in music - Lord help me if music ever coincidentally swells up during one of these because I'll think I've lost it.
So, today I'm walking by the library and I walk over this one step that's kind of stained green from the rain runoff. BOOM. I look up and I see the student center - which wasn't there at all when I came here for orientation - and I am almost instantly back in the old Hawk's Nest. I used to go there all the time for supper. I remember the pizza there - it was overpriced but really good. I'd get pizza and sometimes chips and sometimes (because I'm crazy) I'd put balsamic vinegar on my pizza. It was something I only tasted there, only for this brief window of time in my life. If it's possible to get choked up over pizza, I think I almost did. What I wouldn't give sometimes to go back to a random Thursday of my Freshman or Sophomore years. Talk to all of my old friends that I rarely see anymore. Go to those same lame basic studies classes, taste that pizza that I can't even get now.
I remember when I was 18, I kind of knew I was on top of the world. I think I've figured out why it feels so awesome to have just graduated high school. In high school you get progressively cooler the older you get. 18 years old is the climax, then you go to college and begin getting less cool the older you get. All of the sudden your birthday comes and you feel just a teeny tiny bit less excited to have a bigger number. I imagine this just gets more noticeable the more numbers you add. I used to wonder why old people didn't have birthday parties like young people - HA! My Freshman and Sophomore years were wonderful for one major reason - I didn't worry about life. For that period of time I knew exactly what I was supposed to be doing, where to be, and I enjoyed it. I enjoy the music I used to listen to in my car, the old janitor man in Schwartz, picking Roach and his rodent friends up from the gas station late at night, walking in the rain from the back parking lot... even the stuff I hated, I love, and that which I loved, I will never forget.
So maybe I'm just a loser that's getting too "old" too fast. I'm 21 for crying out loud! I think it's like this for me because it isn't far enough away yet. One day my true memories will be replaced by placeholder memories, memories of memories. Everyone compartmentalizes to save space in the old noggin'. When that happens I'll remember the things that have been most important to me, but everything else will fall into the fuzzy pink blur that I'll generalize as a positive experience. One day, without thinking, I'll probably lean over to some young whipper-snapper and whisper in their ear,
"You have fun now, ya hear. These are going to be the best days of your life."
For their sake, I hope they don't believe me. I don't want to spoil it for them.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
I Smell Crazy in the Air
Poe-dunk
It's brutal honesty time. I just had a Sloanin Holiday. That is a word I made up for a day in which I didn't leave the apartment at all. These days are few and far between. The occasion? Well, I have every Monday off but apparently everyone else was off today too - Martin Luther King Jr., you know. Here is the part were I tell you the really embarrassing details so I can wonder why I told you later.
I woke up at 10. I checked email and ate some eggs that Jefe scrambled. I then read some. I played video games. I got online again. I researched the history of grenades for no good reason. I read a lot more. I wrote up a resume and did some career planning (not really, I just daydreamed about it). Then Jefe made pasta - I ate it. I read some more (this time Edgar Allen Poe for my Romanticism class) and then looked up some info on a possible spring break trip. Somewhere in there I hooked up the internet to my xbox and played Halo online for the first time in months. Most recently I caught up on some internship stuff and now I'm right back in the same exact position I was in at 10 this morning. By same exact I mean EXACT. I didn't go out so, naturally, I didn't take a shower. And since I didn't take a shower, why would I change out of my pajamas, right? So that's the way it's been, one of those days. Thankfully, I've gotten enough done to feel a little productive, but tomorrow comes early so I better get some rest and recover from this brutal day so I can actually freshen up a bit before class in the morning.
Heres to Sloanin Holidays!
It's brutal honesty time. I just had a Sloanin Holiday. That is a word I made up for a day in which I didn't leave the apartment at all. These days are few and far between. The occasion? Well, I have every Monday off but apparently everyone else was off today too - Martin Luther King Jr., you know. Here is the part were I tell you the really embarrassing details so I can wonder why I told you later.
I woke up at 10. I checked email and ate some eggs that Jefe scrambled. I then read some. I played video games. I got online again. I researched the history of grenades for no good reason. I read a lot more. I wrote up a resume and did some career planning (not really, I just daydreamed about it). Then Jefe made pasta - I ate it. I read some more (this time Edgar Allen Poe for my Romanticism class) and then looked up some info on a possible spring break trip. Somewhere in there I hooked up the internet to my xbox and played Halo online for the first time in months. Most recently I caught up on some internship stuff and now I'm right back in the same exact position I was in at 10 this morning. By same exact I mean EXACT. I didn't go out so, naturally, I didn't take a shower. And since I didn't take a shower, why would I change out of my pajamas, right? So that's the way it's been, one of those days. Thankfully, I've gotten enough done to feel a little productive, but tomorrow comes early so I better get some rest and recover from this brutal day so I can actually freshen up a bit before class in the morning.
Heres to Sloanin Holidays!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Sausage. Wrapped in Pancake. On a Stick.
I wonder if they clean the keyboards in the computer lab, ever.
I sat down in here today to waste time before my 12:30 “American Romanticism” class. You may know it better by its street name, “I hate my life 101.” That’s a bit harsh and prejudicial, I haven’t even been there yet, but you can imagine my excitement to find out. So far I’ve had two classes and on Tuesday/Thursday they are all three in a row. My first class, something about ethics in writing – a senior seminar, was over in a hot 30 minutes. My second one, Computer Science 105 (yes, I will finally learn how to use those Interwebs!) was also let out early after just 30 minutes. Five dollars says that my last one – the only one that I could use the early release from – will go the whole hour fifteen.
This keyboard looks really clean. I’m watching the two “lab technicians” right now. They’re chatting quietly, only looking up occasionally to swipe someone’s card and give them a computer. Oops, one of them just left. I used to want to do this. You can beat sitting at a computer, surfing the net and doing homework for 5 hours and getting paid for it. My old roommate, Roach, got a job at the lab in Schwartz before it closed down. Every once in a while I’d stop over to see how he was doing. When it was time to close up they had some sort of ritual that they went through but I was never interested enough to stay and find out what it entailed. Hopefully they really do clean the keyboards. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen people cough, sneeze, and pick their nose and then handle this equipment. I’m not a germaphobe but now that I think about it that’s pretty gross.
My documentary class on Wednesdays is in the recently remodeled Kenan Hall where I took Silent and Modern film classes in the most uncomfortable classroom in the world. I can see the little name on the side of it through the window in front of me. I like what they’ve done with the place since they kicked the theater and fine art hippies out and let us film kids in there. Smells a lot better now, anyway. My one complaint is that the new tables the film department put in are large rolling tables that, quite frankly, get on my last nerve. I have a tendency to put my feet on the rail underneath them and found myself apologizing to the bearded fellow next to me quite a few times for scooting his desk away from him.
I’m going to go ahead and make my way back to Morton so I can get a good seat before all the goody students show up early and take them. Here’s hoping I learn something exciting and new in Romanticism and …oh, who am I kidding? I just hope it’s an easy A.
…aaaand I just sneezed on the keyboard.
(just kidding)
I sat down in here today to waste time before my 12:30 “American Romanticism” class. You may know it better by its street name, “I hate my life 101.” That’s a bit harsh and prejudicial, I haven’t even been there yet, but you can imagine my excitement to find out. So far I’ve had two classes and on Tuesday/Thursday they are all three in a row. My first class, something about ethics in writing – a senior seminar, was over in a hot 30 minutes. My second one, Computer Science 105 (yes, I will finally learn how to use those Interwebs!) was also let out early after just 30 minutes. Five dollars says that my last one – the only one that I could use the early release from – will go the whole hour fifteen.
This keyboard looks really clean. I’m watching the two “lab technicians” right now. They’re chatting quietly, only looking up occasionally to swipe someone’s card and give them a computer. Oops, one of them just left. I used to want to do this. You can beat sitting at a computer, surfing the net and doing homework for 5 hours and getting paid for it. My old roommate, Roach, got a job at the lab in Schwartz before it closed down. Every once in a while I’d stop over to see how he was doing. When it was time to close up they had some sort of ritual that they went through but I was never interested enough to stay and find out what it entailed. Hopefully they really do clean the keyboards. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen people cough, sneeze, and pick their nose and then handle this equipment. I’m not a germaphobe but now that I think about it that’s pretty gross.
My documentary class on Wednesdays is in the recently remodeled Kenan Hall where I took Silent and Modern film classes in the most uncomfortable classroom in the world. I can see the little name on the side of it through the window in front of me. I like what they’ve done with the place since they kicked the theater and fine art hippies out and let us film kids in there. Smells a lot better now, anyway. My one complaint is that the new tables the film department put in are large rolling tables that, quite frankly, get on my last nerve. I have a tendency to put my feet on the rail underneath them and found myself apologizing to the bearded fellow next to me quite a few times for scooting his desk away from him.
I’m going to go ahead and make my way back to Morton so I can get a good seat before all the goody students show up early and take them. Here’s hoping I learn something exciting and new in Romanticism and …oh, who am I kidding? I just hope it’s an easy A.
…aaaand I just sneezed on the keyboard.
(just kidding)
Friday, January 04, 2008
New Yeah!!!
Happy 2008
I just looked over my blog and saw that the entirety of 2007 saw just 32 posts from yours truly. In looking over those posts I couldn't help but notice that my writing over the past few years has lost that little spark that it had when I first started this blog. I was over at my brother-in-law's myspace blog (which I would link you to if he didn't have it privacy protected) and it was cool to see the kind of energy and, well, decent writing that goes into and comes out of a new blog with a new blogger.
Last year I made a few predictions and almost none of them came true. Kind of depressing. You know what else is kind of depressing? Knowing that you're going to graduate in a little over 4 months and not knowing what you're going to do after that. I've always told myself something to the effect of "Oh, don't worry about it Nathan. Something will magically fall into your lap when the time comes." Well, the time has come and my lap is lacking. In light of this, I've compiled a list of "Top Jobs" that I'd love to have right out of college. If you, or anyone you know can get me one of these jobs, please contact me as soon as possible.
Glob-trotting Super-Spy Other spies may globe-trot, but they're doing it for some pansy reason, like for their country or their secret service or something. I'm talking about I want to be a super-spy and just do it because I'm that much of a bad @$$. I mean, I'd be willing to pass my info along to an employer but most of the time you'd just do your stuff freelance. I'd be like the male Carmen San Diego, and people would constantly be asking where in the world I was.
Dunder-Mifflin Associate Salesman If you don't know why I want this job, you just aren't "with it." Down with the BIG BOX PAPER SUPPLIERS!
Rock Star I'm still working on this one. Just wait until about 2011 and I'll have a hot album out. Then people will pour in to see me play live. I'll probably have my own version of Guitar Hero. It'll be called "Guitar Hero: The Sloan Chronicles (Note: no one can actually be as heroic as Nathan Sloan)"
Photo-Journalist I'd go all over the world taking pictures of pandas and other endangered wildlife. Probably take pictures of people getting killed and sharks jumping out of the water and stuff. Then I'd write up articles to go with my amazing photography where I showed how deep and intellectual I was and make other people cry as they realize how meaningless their lives are.
Magazine Guru As a head writer/editor for major magazine(s) I would effectively decide what was popular and what wasn't. Who was cool, and who wasn't. How to live, and how not to. I would have an enormous amount of influence and thus, power - but no one would know my name. I would live a prisoner to my own amazing existance and everywhere I went I would be forced to see people I've influenced walk by me without recognition. Then I would sell the rights to my life story for upwards of $30 million and attend the movie premier at age 35.
Filmmaking Guru Basically the same as above, but I do it with films instead of magazines, everyone knows me and I just keep the rights to my story and direct/star in the film myself.
Whip Braider I want to work alongside the greats like David Morgan (before he dies) and that other guy (I forgot his name, but he learned from david morgan) and continue the legacy of fine whip-crafting. I want to make whips like no-other. One day people would buy my whips as accessories to their outfits because they are so amazing. I am willing to apprentice under someone until I get the hang of it. I am also willing to whip it good.
So there you have it. Thats where I'm and and with that being said, I think I'm going to sign off of now. I wish everyone who happens upon this page a very happy 2008.
The fibers of carpet are like little dust magnets and I'm NOT attracted.
I just looked over my blog and saw that the entirety of 2007 saw just 32 posts from yours truly. In looking over those posts I couldn't help but notice that my writing over the past few years has lost that little spark that it had when I first started this blog. I was over at my brother-in-law's myspace blog (which I would link you to if he didn't have it privacy protected) and it was cool to see the kind of energy and, well, decent writing that goes into and comes out of a new blog with a new blogger.
Last year I made a few predictions and almost none of them came true. Kind of depressing. You know what else is kind of depressing? Knowing that you're going to graduate in a little over 4 months and not knowing what you're going to do after that. I've always told myself something to the effect of "Oh, don't worry about it Nathan. Something will magically fall into your lap when the time comes." Well, the time has come and my lap is lacking. In light of this, I've compiled a list of "Top Jobs" that I'd love to have right out of college. If you, or anyone you know can get me one of these jobs, please contact me as soon as possible.
Glob-trotting Super-Spy Other spies may globe-trot, but they're doing it for some pansy reason, like for their country or their secret service or something. I'm talking about I want to be a super-spy and just do it because I'm that much of a bad @$$. I mean, I'd be willing to pass my info along to an employer but most of the time you'd just do your stuff freelance. I'd be like the male Carmen San Diego, and people would constantly be asking where in the world I was.
Dunder-Mifflin Associate Salesman If you don't know why I want this job, you just aren't "with it." Down with the BIG BOX PAPER SUPPLIERS!
Rock Star I'm still working on this one. Just wait until about 2011 and I'll have a hot album out. Then people will pour in to see me play live. I'll probably have my own version of Guitar Hero. It'll be called "Guitar Hero: The Sloan Chronicles (Note: no one can actually be as heroic as Nathan Sloan)"
Photo-Journalist I'd go all over the world taking pictures of pandas and other endangered wildlife. Probably take pictures of people getting killed and sharks jumping out of the water and stuff. Then I'd write up articles to go with my amazing photography where I showed how deep and intellectual I was and make other people cry as they realize how meaningless their lives are.
Magazine Guru As a head writer/editor for major magazine(s) I would effectively decide what was popular and what wasn't. Who was cool, and who wasn't. How to live, and how not to. I would have an enormous amount of influence and thus, power - but no one would know my name. I would live a prisoner to my own amazing existance and everywhere I went I would be forced to see people I've influenced walk by me without recognition. Then I would sell the rights to my life story for upwards of $30 million and attend the movie premier at age 35.
Filmmaking Guru Basically the same as above, but I do it with films instead of magazines, everyone knows me and I just keep the rights to my story and direct/star in the film myself.
Whip Braider I want to work alongside the greats like David Morgan (before he dies) and that other guy (I forgot his name, but he learned from david morgan) and continue the legacy of fine whip-crafting. I want to make whips like no-other. One day people would buy my whips as accessories to their outfits because they are so amazing. I am willing to apprentice under someone until I get the hang of it. I am also willing to whip it good.
So there you have it. Thats where I'm and and with that being said, I think I'm going to sign off of now. I wish everyone who happens upon this page a very happy 2008.
The fibers of carpet are like little dust magnets and I'm NOT attracted.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Flaunt the Font
This time I'm writing out of a sense of obligation more than anything else. I figure this thing was set up as a chronicle of my college experience, I might as well chronicle it.
I hate it when I type stupid things like that and then realize that what I've just typed holds no real weight but was just to fill up space. Maybe you know what I mean, or maybe you don't.
I always seem to find myself writing in these periods when I'm about to leave some place. Right now I'm about to leave room A 5-308 for the rest of the year. I'm going home today to start what I can only imagine will be about two weeks of numbness to the world. I will sleep until 11. I will comb through page after page of ebay. I will eat an unhealthy amount of food. All of this will be done and nothing that I actually need to be doing will probably get done at all. This isn't me being a pessimist - it's me being realistic. I've been doing this for 15 years now, I kind of have a knack for the prediction.
In the midst of all of that, however, there are still some things that I hope to get done fairly soon. I want to test out my recorder that I bought back in August and, well, actually record something. No one will probably ever hear what is recorded and that is fine with me. I will practice guitar and FINALLY GET PAST LESSON 7. Dang it! I really want to do that. I also want to send out some Christmas cards and visit a few choice friends - I hope that goes well.
Looking back on this semester, it's been pretty fun. I've made lots of new friends and finally lifted fully from the funk that set in on me a year ago. There are plenty of new people that I'm excited to be hanging out with - and pipe smoking and tea drinking (good grief, how have I not written a post on tea drinking?) I also have that final spring semester that's looking like it shaped up quite nicely. I have a senior seminar in both film and English to fill out my requirements for each major, a final literature class, a random garbage class to get the 124 hours needed for graduation and finally, an internship which is needed for my professional writing certification (yes, the person who writes the garbage you are now reading is being certified by an accredited university as a professional writer). That's pretty exciting because through a crazy turn of events I got hooked up with a really cool writer who lives here in Wilmington and, long story short, I think I'll be able to put GQ as an internship on my resume. I'm sure I'll have a lot to write about concerning my time working under Mr. John Sullivan next year.
Now it's 3:40 and I have ten tons of stuff to pack and a shower to take before I can leave.
I want a lawn tractor and a field of spam asap. Who's ready for canned shavings?
I hate it when I type stupid things like that and then realize that what I've just typed holds no real weight but was just to fill up space. Maybe you know what I mean, or maybe you don't.
I always seem to find myself writing in these periods when I'm about to leave some place. Right now I'm about to leave room A 5-308 for the rest of the year. I'm going home today to start what I can only imagine will be about two weeks of numbness to the world. I will sleep until 11. I will comb through page after page of ebay. I will eat an unhealthy amount of food. All of this will be done and nothing that I actually need to be doing will probably get done at all. This isn't me being a pessimist - it's me being realistic. I've been doing this for 15 years now, I kind of have a knack for the prediction.
In the midst of all of that, however, there are still some things that I hope to get done fairly soon. I want to test out my recorder that I bought back in August and, well, actually record something. No one will probably ever hear what is recorded and that is fine with me. I will practice guitar and FINALLY GET PAST LESSON 7. Dang it! I really want to do that. I also want to send out some Christmas cards and visit a few choice friends - I hope that goes well.
Looking back on this semester, it's been pretty fun. I've made lots of new friends and finally lifted fully from the funk that set in on me a year ago. There are plenty of new people that I'm excited to be hanging out with - and pipe smoking and tea drinking (good grief, how have I not written a post on tea drinking?) I also have that final spring semester that's looking like it shaped up quite nicely. I have a senior seminar in both film and English to fill out my requirements for each major, a final literature class, a random garbage class to get the 124 hours needed for graduation and finally, an internship which is needed for my professional writing certification (yes, the person who writes the garbage you are now reading is being certified by an accredited university as a professional writer). That's pretty exciting because through a crazy turn of events I got hooked up with a really cool writer who lives here in Wilmington and, long story short, I think I'll be able to put GQ as an internship on my resume. I'm sure I'll have a lot to write about concerning my time working under Mr. John Sullivan next year.
Now it's 3:40 and I have ten tons of stuff to pack and a shower to take before I can leave.
I want a lawn tractor and a field of spam asap. Who's ready for canned shavings?
Monday, December 03, 2007
One of Those Vases Filled With Dead Sticks
Tis the season
Exam season, that is. This is my second to last time (possibly ever) having an exam season and so I don't know quite what to think at this point. Do I cherish every moment of the sweaty 5-hour long library sessions, writing page after page of sub-par material that will somehow still get a B+, or do I dread it as per usual? Whatever the answer, one this is for absolute certain. Tried and true, time and again, and this time is no exception - I'm sick for exams! This time it's just a head cold and hopefully it'll go away before I get to the weekend (where writing will start to get heavy) but I realized that in my 4 years I've developed a knack for dealing with "the sickness." In light of this, I've decided to provide, below, a volume that is sure to be cherished for years to come. Presenting:
Uncle Nathan's Book of Home/Dorm Remedies for the Physically Agitated - and Soul.
There are just some samples, the full book will be published later.*
Cold Sores
Take a razor blade and shave of a very tiny amount of paint from your dorm's cinderblock walls. Buy a can of dip and mix the paint into a pinch and apply it directly to the cold sore. Fix it in place with a bandage. The latex in the paint reacts with the tobacco to produce something good that is then absorbed directly into the sore. The sore will begin to go away in 7-14 days.
Bad Roommates
For this one you'll need a bagpipe (note: you don't have to know how to play it well) and be willing to use the produce drawer of your fridge as a urinal. Need I say more? They'll get a room transfer.
Animal Control
For the usual infestation of roaches, a quick call to housing maintenance will do the trick - in about two weeks when they finally come to dust the place. For more exotic pests, such as the locust or a charging rhino, see section on flame thrower.
Feel Better
Did you get an F on the Spanish test? Did your boyfriend break up with you again? Maybe the rancid smell of your own feet just has you feeling less than confident. Here is a trick that works instantly for lifting the spirits. 1)Buy a gift of $99.00 or more. 2) Give it to me.
For more on my book or information where to send me presents (Christmas or mood-lifting varaity) please send me an email. I'd be happy to pass that information along.
Literacy is weo aivh ienl ij anoiwe mmeahu. ?
Exam season, that is. This is my second to last time (possibly ever) having an exam season and so I don't know quite what to think at this point. Do I cherish every moment of the sweaty 5-hour long library sessions, writing page after page of sub-par material that will somehow still get a B+, or do I dread it as per usual? Whatever the answer, one this is for absolute certain. Tried and true, time and again, and this time is no exception - I'm sick for exams! This time it's just a head cold and hopefully it'll go away before I get to the weekend (where writing will start to get heavy) but I realized that in my 4 years I've developed a knack for dealing with "the sickness." In light of this, I've decided to provide, below, a volume that is sure to be cherished for years to come. Presenting:
Uncle Nathan's Book of Home/Dorm Remedies for the Physically Agitated - and Soul.
There are just some samples, the full book will be published later.*
Cold Sores
Take a razor blade and shave of a very tiny amount of paint from your dorm's cinderblock walls. Buy a can of dip and mix the paint into a pinch and apply it directly to the cold sore. Fix it in place with a bandage. The latex in the paint reacts with the tobacco to produce something good that is then absorbed directly into the sore. The sore will begin to go away in 7-14 days.
Bad Roommates
For this one you'll need a bagpipe (note: you don't have to know how to play it well) and be willing to use the produce drawer of your fridge as a urinal. Need I say more? They'll get a room transfer.
Animal Control
For the usual infestation of roaches, a quick call to housing maintenance will do the trick - in about two weeks when they finally come to dust the place. For more exotic pests, such as the locust or a charging rhino, see section on flame thrower.
Feel Better
Did you get an F on the Spanish test? Did your boyfriend break up with you again? Maybe the rancid smell of your own feet just has you feeling less than confident. Here is a trick that works instantly for lifting the spirits. 1)Buy a gift of $99.00 or more. 2) Give it to me.
For more on my book or information where to send me presents (Christmas or mood-lifting varaity) please send me an email. I'd be happy to pass that information along.
Literacy is weo aivh ienl ij anoiwe mmeahu. ?
Monday, November 12, 2007
Sometimes, Violence is the Answer
Every so-often I make an attempt at becoming more intellectual (or at least appearing more intellectual). These experiments usually end with me drooling in an open newspaper or hurting myself with some 19th century accessory that I don't know how to use. The lastest thing is a "gentleman's book club" that some friends and I have started up. We're going to read about a book a month and choose books that are of lasting significance to us in some way. We get together once a week to talk about what we get from them and act smart. The first book on the list: Faulkner's As I Lay Dying. From what I understand this is about some old woman's children taking their mother's body some place far away to bury her.
From the get-go I have concerns that I won't be able to pull through this. The premise doesn't exactly sound thrilling. Tomorrow I'll be heading to the library to check out a copy since I'm too cheap to buy it. Imagine that! Someone using a library for it's intended purpose, recreational reading!
Other than that it's business as usual for me. I still have to find an internship for next semester (SOON!) and get some schedule stuff straightened out. I'm starting to feel the heat of the big "post graduation" question and I still don't have an answer. I still have faith that God will provide but any prayer on the subject is always appreciated. I assure you, I'm putting thought into it.
Do you think a wolf would eat beefaroni?
From the get-go I have concerns that I won't be able to pull through this. The premise doesn't exactly sound thrilling. Tomorrow I'll be heading to the library to check out a copy since I'm too cheap to buy it. Imagine that! Someone using a library for it's intended purpose, recreational reading!
Other than that it's business as usual for me. I still have to find an internship for next semester (SOON!) and get some schedule stuff straightened out. I'm starting to feel the heat of the big "post graduation" question and I still don't have an answer. I still have faith that God will provide but any prayer on the subject is always appreciated. I assure you, I'm putting thought into it.
Do you think a wolf would eat beefaroni?
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
If it's Going to Have a Wok, I'm Pretty Sure it Should be a Golden One
November Weighs More…
I have a twenty-minute walk to class from the front door of building five in the Seahawk Landing. I’m not sure but I think it’s right at a mile long. All of my classes, save one, are located in a little building that’s begging for renovation called Morton Hall. The classrooms in this building are designed to be the educational equivalent of the clown car. While watching Dr. Laudadio try to pace around the front of the room without running into desks and/or trashcans provides a reasonable amount of amusement, I find the cramped quarters to be quite annoying.
- Of course, this is neither here nor there.
I was walking to class this morning and it was knocking on 50 degrees with a strong wind and all I had on was a thin t-shirt and a UNCW hoodie.* It created one of those sensations that I’m sure we’re all familiar with and most of us probably hate. The wind would constantly pierce through my sweatshirt making my arms intensely cold, but at the same time the heat of my body made me feel all, warm. I do not approve of this feeling.
- But what are you going to do?
I had yet another English class this morning. It was a pretty decent class, my “Reading and Writing Arguments” with Donald Bushman. All we did was peer review. I forgot to bring my draft. Sigh. I did, in spite of this, provide one of the best peer reviews I’ve ever done for a classmate of mine named Ian. His paper was only marginally interesting, but that’s probably just because I’m not a big baseball fan.
While I don’t have any real issues with my writing classes, I feel it’s high time that I document my sentiment toward the literature classes that I’ve been involved with so far.
They’re garbage.
Now, it’s probably important that I clarify so that I don’t sound like a judgmental idiot that just doesn’t like to do his work. Quite the contrary, I don’t mind the work. I mean, sure there is a ton of reading and some hefty papers that have to be written, but I don’t mind that – I kind of signed up for it. What gets me about these classes it that they’re so speculative and so little of the discussion that we have is grounded in things that we might actually be able to retain or are of any importance. A typical discussion, ESPECIALLY IN POETRY, usually starts with a reading of the work or quick recap, followed by what I can only imagine must be an imaginary flag wave to signal the start of off-topic or ridiculous comments – which fill the entire class period with seemingly pointless discussion. There is a kid that sits next to me in one class that really gets my goat. He spends about 5 minutes just trying to spit his comment out because he’s forming his thoughts as he’s speaking them. As you might expect, this leads, more often than not, to a vastly unsatisfying conclusion and I’m left, once again, considering what useful functions my brain could have been working on during that time.
The other day I thought of something that made me laugh out loud in the middle of all of it. I’m pretty sure that at almost any point in class I could pose the following question and a significant amount of conversation would flow in direct response to it:
“How do you think this {piece, section, point, line, etc.} relates to John Stamos?”
I can hear them now…
“Well, that’s an interesting point. John Stamos’ career has been experiencing a recent revitalization of sorts and we kind of see that also in line 13 where Hughes kind of references his own return to the spotlight after the initial fire sparked in the Harlem Renaissance had kind of faded.“
“I think if John Stamos were here right now, he’d really have something to say about the Greek allusions made in this poem. I’m pretty sure that his heritage as a Greek would give him a little more insight into the life of the classic philosophers that so inspired the imagists of the 19teens and 20s.”
“Contemporary literature could conceivably owe a lot to John Stamos. I mean, it’s not something that we jump to initially, but we obviously count Pop Culture as an extension of the social text of the day. When we watch Full House we’re seeing the recorded culture of that time period and so part of our understanding of that period, even if it’s just a small part, we owe to John Stamos.”
If my professor asked what I thought, I’d do exactly what I always do. Smile and say:
Oh, I agree completely.
*My UNCW hooded sweatshirt was won by my roommate, Bryan and since he has a million such sweatshirts, he gave it to me. While I’m very grateful for this gift, a $35 value, I can’t help but be kind of bothered by the sheer number of people, (especially girls) which I pass every day that are wearing the exact same hoodie. I’m a loser.
And so passes my 300th post, with little fanfare.
I have a twenty-minute walk to class from the front door of building five in the Seahawk Landing. I’m not sure but I think it’s right at a mile long. All of my classes, save one, are located in a little building that’s begging for renovation called Morton Hall. The classrooms in this building are designed to be the educational equivalent of the clown car. While watching Dr. Laudadio try to pace around the front of the room without running into desks and/or trashcans provides a reasonable amount of amusement, I find the cramped quarters to be quite annoying.
- Of course, this is neither here nor there.
I was walking to class this morning and it was knocking on 50 degrees with a strong wind and all I had on was a thin t-shirt and a UNCW hoodie.* It created one of those sensations that I’m sure we’re all familiar with and most of us probably hate. The wind would constantly pierce through my sweatshirt making my arms intensely cold, but at the same time the heat of my body made me feel all, warm. I do not approve of this feeling.
- But what are you going to do?
I had yet another English class this morning. It was a pretty decent class, my “Reading and Writing Arguments” with Donald Bushman. All we did was peer review. I forgot to bring my draft. Sigh. I did, in spite of this, provide one of the best peer reviews I’ve ever done for a classmate of mine named Ian. His paper was only marginally interesting, but that’s probably just because I’m not a big baseball fan.
While I don’t have any real issues with my writing classes, I feel it’s high time that I document my sentiment toward the literature classes that I’ve been involved with so far.
They’re garbage.
Now, it’s probably important that I clarify so that I don’t sound like a judgmental idiot that just doesn’t like to do his work. Quite the contrary, I don’t mind the work. I mean, sure there is a ton of reading and some hefty papers that have to be written, but I don’t mind that – I kind of signed up for it. What gets me about these classes it that they’re so speculative and so little of the discussion that we have is grounded in things that we might actually be able to retain or are of any importance. A typical discussion, ESPECIALLY IN POETRY, usually starts with a reading of the work or quick recap, followed by what I can only imagine must be an imaginary flag wave to signal the start of off-topic or ridiculous comments – which fill the entire class period with seemingly pointless discussion. There is a kid that sits next to me in one class that really gets my goat. He spends about 5 minutes just trying to spit his comment out because he’s forming his thoughts as he’s speaking them. As you might expect, this leads, more often than not, to a vastly unsatisfying conclusion and I’m left, once again, considering what useful functions my brain could have been working on during that time.
The other day I thought of something that made me laugh out loud in the middle of all of it. I’m pretty sure that at almost any point in class I could pose the following question and a significant amount of conversation would flow in direct response to it:
“How do you think this {piece, section, point, line, etc.} relates to John Stamos?”
I can hear them now…
“Well, that’s an interesting point. John Stamos’ career has been experiencing a recent revitalization of sorts and we kind of see that also in line 13 where Hughes kind of references his own return to the spotlight after the initial fire sparked in the Harlem Renaissance had kind of faded.“
“I think if John Stamos were here right now, he’d really have something to say about the Greek allusions made in this poem. I’m pretty sure that his heritage as a Greek would give him a little more insight into the life of the classic philosophers that so inspired the imagists of the 19teens and 20s.”
“Contemporary literature could conceivably owe a lot to John Stamos. I mean, it’s not something that we jump to initially, but we obviously count Pop Culture as an extension of the social text of the day. When we watch Full House we’re seeing the recorded culture of that time period and so part of our understanding of that period, even if it’s just a small part, we owe to John Stamos.”
If my professor asked what I thought, I’d do exactly what I always do. Smile and say:
Oh, I agree completely.
*My UNCW hooded sweatshirt was won by my roommate, Bryan and since he has a million such sweatshirts, he gave it to me. While I’m very grateful for this gift, a $35 value, I can’t help but be kind of bothered by the sheer number of people, (especially girls) which I pass every day that are wearing the exact same hoodie. I’m a loser.
And so passes my 300th post, with little fanfare.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Jimmy Eat Show
Hey guys,
This is a concert review that I wrote for my music blog (mog) and just copy and pasted it over. If if seems a little less WilmingSloanian, thats why.
.....
So here's the update. For said update, let us flash back to an age when Nathan was quite a different chap. In 2001 I had no idea what good music was. I was a freshman in high school and the only CDs I had purchased at the time were the Star Wars soundtrack and Smash Mouth's 'Astro Lounge.' I'm almost ashamed to put that in print. Well, along came my sister, 6 years older than me, who had been introduced to a band from Arizona that had just released a new album, then called Bleed American (Shortly after it's release, 9.11 happened and they changed it to 'self titled,' it has since been changed back to 'Bleed American). The band was Jimmy Eat World, and though she rocked out to their newest work in her car constantly, for Christmas that year she gave me the album that she considered their best stuff, 1999's 'Clarity.' I was hooked.
From that moment forward I consider Jimmy Eat World to be the band that introduced me to the type of music I love today. Everything I listened to for a while was cast through a Jimmy Eat World (and specifically 'Clarity') colored lens. I have nearly worn my copy of that album out now and I bought all subsequent EPs and Albums by them, except for Bleed American. For all the love I had of Jimmy, I still had a huge hole in my musical life for them that lasted through last night. That hole was having never seen them live.
It wasn't for lack of trying. I'd check their website often, but the west coast band rarely made it to the east and if they did it was almost never in little North Carolina. The tv show "One Tree Hill" is filmed in Wilmington, where I go to school, and I found out a week after the fact that Jimmy came down to shoot an episode and college students were paid $100 to sit and watch as extras. Some of my friends made it in but, of course, I didn't get the memo in time. A year later I'd find out too late that they were on tour with the much less impressive Green Day and on their way to Raleigh. I recently found out the Jimmy Eat World's opening set consisted of three songs. If I had gone for them and gotten that, I'd have been more than slightly upset. Then, magically, this week my roommate is telling me that their latest album "Chase This Light" had just come out on the 16th. He checked their site and sure enough, Jimmy was making two nearby stops, this time as the headliner. One in Myrtle Beach at the House of Blues and one in Raleigh at Disco Rodeo. My heart rose, and then fell. I spent all of my money last weekend at Busch Gardens; there was no way I could afford to see them.
Or was there?
I remembered my giant tin-o-change that I had been saving for who knows how long. I took it to the bank and magically, $40 popped out. I was in the game and ready to go! I bought my tickets for House of Blues and waited for Saturday night to arrive.
First thing is first, they put on an awesome show but I have learned my lesson about going to a show without ear protection for the last time. PLEASE, remember to bring earplugs when you go to loud rock shows. It saves your ears and, honestly, you can hear the music a lot better.
Other than the occasional ear bleed, I couldn't be happier with the show. Viva Noche opened up and they were decent, but I could have dealt with about 2 or three fewer songs from them (they played about 8). We were situated on the floor by the front steps on the left side of the stage and had a great view. No lumbering 8 foot tall scene kid intermittently obscuring my vision and making out with his girlfriend this time. I went with a few friends and we had a blast. They played a good mix of old and new and finished it out with a bang - saving Sweetness, The Middle, and Hear You Me among others for their encore set. Incredibly high-energy, it's rare for me to want to jump around like the teenyboppers at a show but when everyone was screaming "Oh oh oh ohhhh oh!" during Sweetness, you couldn't help but want to. The band was not too talkative, but they were friendly enough. I noticed that they used my same orange Dunlop picks, which is just one of those details that makes a live performance so worth it. Fun little details and chatter aside, though, these guys really know how to rock and it's hard to see how the band known by many to be the kings of "emo" have anything to do with the sappy genre that they helped create. Best straightforward rock concert I've been to in a long time - maybe ever. If you get the chance, take it.
This is a concert review that I wrote for my music blog (mog) and just copy and pasted it over. If if seems a little less WilmingSloanian, thats why.
.....
So here's the update. For said update, let us flash back to an age when Nathan was quite a different chap. In 2001 I had no idea what good music was. I was a freshman in high school and the only CDs I had purchased at the time were the Star Wars soundtrack and Smash Mouth's 'Astro Lounge.' I'm almost ashamed to put that in print. Well, along came my sister, 6 years older than me, who had been introduced to a band from Arizona that had just released a new album, then called Bleed American (Shortly after it's release, 9.11 happened and they changed it to 'self titled,' it has since been changed back to 'Bleed American). The band was Jimmy Eat World, and though she rocked out to their newest work in her car constantly, for Christmas that year she gave me the album that she considered their best stuff, 1999's 'Clarity.' I was hooked.
From that moment forward I consider Jimmy Eat World to be the band that introduced me to the type of music I love today. Everything I listened to for a while was cast through a Jimmy Eat World (and specifically 'Clarity') colored lens. I have nearly worn my copy of that album out now and I bought all subsequent EPs and Albums by them, except for Bleed American. For all the love I had of Jimmy, I still had a huge hole in my musical life for them that lasted through last night. That hole was having never seen them live.
It wasn't for lack of trying. I'd check their website often, but the west coast band rarely made it to the east and if they did it was almost never in little North Carolina. The tv show "One Tree Hill" is filmed in Wilmington, where I go to school, and I found out a week after the fact that Jimmy came down to shoot an episode and college students were paid $100 to sit and watch as extras. Some of my friends made it in but, of course, I didn't get the memo in time. A year later I'd find out too late that they were on tour with the much less impressive Green Day and on their way to Raleigh. I recently found out the Jimmy Eat World's opening set consisted of three songs. If I had gone for them and gotten that, I'd have been more than slightly upset. Then, magically, this week my roommate is telling me that their latest album "Chase This Light" had just come out on the 16th. He checked their site and sure enough, Jimmy was making two nearby stops, this time as the headliner. One in Myrtle Beach at the House of Blues and one in Raleigh at Disco Rodeo. My heart rose, and then fell. I spent all of my money last weekend at Busch Gardens; there was no way I could afford to see them.
Or was there?
I remembered my giant tin-o-change that I had been saving for who knows how long. I took it to the bank and magically, $40 popped out. I was in the game and ready to go! I bought my tickets for House of Blues and waited for Saturday night to arrive.
First thing is first, they put on an awesome show but I have learned my lesson about going to a show without ear protection for the last time. PLEASE, remember to bring earplugs when you go to loud rock shows. It saves your ears and, honestly, you can hear the music a lot better.
Other than the occasional ear bleed, I couldn't be happier with the show. Viva Noche opened up and they were decent, but I could have dealt with about 2 or three fewer songs from them (they played about 8). We were situated on the floor by the front steps on the left side of the stage and had a great view. No lumbering 8 foot tall scene kid intermittently obscuring my vision and making out with his girlfriend this time. I went with a few friends and we had a blast. They played a good mix of old and new and finished it out with a bang - saving Sweetness, The Middle, and Hear You Me among others for their encore set. Incredibly high-energy, it's rare for me to want to jump around like the teenyboppers at a show but when everyone was screaming "Oh oh oh ohhhh oh!" during Sweetness, you couldn't help but want to. The band was not too talkative, but they were friendly enough. I noticed that they used my same orange Dunlop picks, which is just one of those details that makes a live performance so worth it. Fun little details and chatter aside, though, these guys really know how to rock and it's hard to see how the band known by many to be the kings of "emo" have anything to do with the sappy genre that they helped create. Best straightforward rock concert I've been to in a long time - maybe ever. If you get the chance, take it.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Picking Things Up and Moving to New Zeland
To be a "writer" I sure don't act like I enjoy writing very much. Oh well.
It's October and around this time of the year spooky things start popping up. This summer some of the Caswell folks and I did some ghost hunting. This is little more than walking around a "haunted" site with a recorder in hand asking dumb questions to the wall. We'd say things like "What's your name?" and "If you can here us, punch Zack." Of course, we were shamlessly ripping off the TV show "Ghost Hunters," as countless high school sophomores have done before us. Funny thing is, though - when you're asking those questions you don't really think about the alternative to dead silence that you almost always get. Either 1) you hear something fall or rattle or someone else in your group makes noise and is scares the monkey out of you or 2) a being from another plane responds. In the case of #2 I think I would find myself quickly regretting the venture to hunt the ghost and flee the building, most likely with arms flailing wildly in the air.
The moral of the story...don't hunt ghosts unless you want to find them.
Now, a deeper topic (but related). Are ghosts real? I really don't know. I don't believe that ghost, as we like to classically think of them, are real. There is something really romantic about the notion of ghosts, though. Poor lost souls, left to wander the Earth - maybe their heart was broken beyond repair, maybe they were killed and left unavenged, or maybe they just don't know thier dead. The whole idea of ghosts is just really cool to me but I can't bring myself to believe that God would let that happen.
So if they're not ghosts, what are they? The Bible warns against calling on the spirits of the dead, commands against it actually. It also speaks of "unclean spirits." Could it be that these spirits are demons? If so, why would they want to talk to or otherwise mess with us humans? I think that 90% of all ghostly happenings are either made up or misinterrpretations of naturally occuring phenomana. But even with all of that, there is still a good amount of legit, werid crap going on. There are just too many well documented cases to ignore that we're alone on the Earth. Something else is out there.
As a Christian, I currently believe that the voices we hear on tape recordings, the spectres that float through walls and the entities that push around Ouija planchetts are all demons or "unclean" spirits who are out to pull in victims. Such supernatural interests as "ghost hunting" only serve to distract people from the truth of God and people who are unprepaired in their spiritual life can find themselves quickly enticed by the powers of these spirits. The things they can do and the predictions they can make lead people to a series of false conceptions which can easily lead to a fallen life or set of beliefs. Satan's goal is to take down as many of us with him as possible, so that just seems logical to me.
As for everyone out there who thinks I'm really certafiably crazy at this point - more power to you! I'm not saying that I believe any of this happens, necessarily, and certainly not from first-hand experience. Part of me wishes that I could say that I've seen evidence of the paranormal, but the other (much larger) part is quite content to sit on my bed and play Halo 3 while eating Cheetos, instead.
I wonder if teargas has a smell or if it just burns really bad. Wouldn't it be ironic if it smelled really good?
It's October and around this time of the year spooky things start popping up. This summer some of the Caswell folks and I did some ghost hunting. This is little more than walking around a "haunted" site with a recorder in hand asking dumb questions to the wall. We'd say things like "What's your name?" and "If you can here us, punch Zack." Of course, we were shamlessly ripping off the TV show "Ghost Hunters," as countless high school sophomores have done before us. Funny thing is, though - when you're asking those questions you don't really think about the alternative to dead silence that you almost always get. Either 1) you hear something fall or rattle or someone else in your group makes noise and is scares the monkey out of you or 2) a being from another plane responds. In the case of #2 I think I would find myself quickly regretting the venture to hunt the ghost and flee the building, most likely with arms flailing wildly in the air.
The moral of the story...don't hunt ghosts unless you want to find them.
Now, a deeper topic (but related). Are ghosts real? I really don't know. I don't believe that ghost, as we like to classically think of them, are real. There is something really romantic about the notion of ghosts, though. Poor lost souls, left to wander the Earth - maybe their heart was broken beyond repair, maybe they were killed and left unavenged, or maybe they just don't know thier dead. The whole idea of ghosts is just really cool to me but I can't bring myself to believe that God would let that happen.
So if they're not ghosts, what are they? The Bible warns against calling on the spirits of the dead, commands against it actually. It also speaks of "unclean spirits." Could it be that these spirits are demons? If so, why would they want to talk to or otherwise mess with us humans? I think that 90% of all ghostly happenings are either made up or misinterrpretations of naturally occuring phenomana. But even with all of that, there is still a good amount of legit, werid crap going on. There are just too many well documented cases to ignore that we're alone on the Earth. Something else is out there.
As a Christian, I currently believe that the voices we hear on tape recordings, the spectres that float through walls and the entities that push around Ouija planchetts are all demons or "unclean" spirits who are out to pull in victims. Such supernatural interests as "ghost hunting" only serve to distract people from the truth of God and people who are unprepaired in their spiritual life can find themselves quickly enticed by the powers of these spirits. The things they can do and the predictions they can make lead people to a series of false conceptions which can easily lead to a fallen life or set of beliefs. Satan's goal is to take down as many of us with him as possible, so that just seems logical to me.
As for everyone out there who thinks I'm really certafiably crazy at this point - more power to you! I'm not saying that I believe any of this happens, necessarily, and certainly not from first-hand experience. Part of me wishes that I could say that I've seen evidence of the paranormal, but the other (much larger) part is quite content to sit on my bed and play Halo 3 while eating Cheetos, instead.
I wonder if teargas has a smell or if it just burns really bad. Wouldn't it be ironic if it smelled really good?
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