There are things about us--about all of us--that cannot be hidden, no matter how hard we try. There is, perhaps, some sort of natural law that provides that deviation from instinctual behavior will end badly. It can be seen in the olde timey motto, "Oh, what a tangled web we weave when at first we practice to deceive." And, as luck would have it, that statement always has been, will, and should be true.
I know that I have stated in earlier posts just how important it is to actually pay attention to the world around you on a daily basis; both in the sense that "if you are not outraged, you are not paying attention" and in the sense that you may miss the broader trends and ideas that a myopic attitude would generally tune out. Case in point, there have been a lot of ideas bouncing in my skull (which is surprisingly thick but soft at the same time) lately that would lead one to make broad generalizations which can then be honed into finer--if only more focused--ideas. Deception, fronts, and any other misleading representation of one's self are nearly always misguided and regrettable, and yet seem omnipresent in today's society.
Being an avid people watcher I took lunch in the food court of a shopping mall today. It would seem that summer is upon us, because there was no lack of school age children whiling away their time in the air conditioned comfort of the local mall. A transgression that may be pardoned by the fact that the temperature nearly reached the century mark today here in the lovely suburbs of Chicago. Nonetheless, I was taken by the wide variety of outfits that were being sported in an effort by the masses to be "different". I am an absolute backer of the idea that anyone can wear anything that they want, so long as the clothing is age and body appropriate and pulled off with aplomb. However, I think the lengths being taken by some young people today to prove how unique they are simply looks exhausting. Perhaps it is because I feel that somewhere, deep down in my insides, I feel that there is an 84 year old grouch trying to get out. Or maybe it is my long-standing love of naps, but I just cannot imagine taking all the time to first think up some of these outfits, and then execute the purchase, organization, and dressing necessary to go out in public. I would be remiss if I was to put these people down for their habits. To dismiss them as a lesser person would be perfunctory and unfair seeing as they are quite possibly very nice, intelligent people. My argument is only that people should dress comfortably in styles that can transfer with ease through many social situations, because you never know when hanging-out-with-friends can turn into running-into-friend's-grandparents, who will be polite and tell you that you manner of dress is "unique" or "fun" but will secretly be wondering how your parents could have failed so miserably in your upbringing. Okay, I know this one is pretty much a dead horse, so I'll say only two more quick things about it. 1) When you try too hard for a "look" when dressing yourself, it usually shows. 2) Big ups to my cousin Molly for rockin' the popped-polo-collar and knowing that "if you're going to look good you have to be at least a little bit uncomfortable" is the first rule of fashion. (P.S.- I may not always look good, but I generally THINK I look good, which is often enough.)
The second part of this post is from an amalgamation of four separate things that happened recently, that crystallized in my mind the ideas that will be laid out to you, dear reader, here today. From a conversation at lunch today with a female co-worker, to the casual mention of a recent DVD release, to an article read today while lounging, to an exchange at a smoky basement bar this saturday past the idea of "faking-it" has come to the fore of my mind.
First I will tackle the barrom chat and the magazine article. I am a hairy man. I have come to terms with this. Anyone who has seen me without a shirt on can attest that I'd stand a good chance if lost in the arctic with only a pair of flannel P.J. bottoms. Of course, this is not to say that I'm happy that I am wooly, but rather that I have accepted it. It is part of my life. I didn't ask to get hair everywhere, but it was deemed that it should be so, and here I am. Until recently my prevailing thought on the subject was "ewww, gross", but recent shifts in attitudes--mostly mine--have lead me to think of it in a different light. This follicle situation is not a voluntary position I am in. Were it left up to me it would just disappear. And, of course, there are many ways to see that happen these days, I had to weigh those options against the fact that I shouldn't not have to endure the pain and financial loss necessary to achieve a smooth back simply to look like a pretty boy. I am charming, fun, smart, and witty and if a girl is going to discount me because of some unfortunate hair growth then it is probably best that I recognize that she is not the kind of woman I am in the market for anyway, right? Right. Some might call "sour grapes" on this kind of attitude and that is fine with me. Those are most likely those are the people who have just been spurned due to their own shallowness. That being said, a young woman reached down the back of my shirt and felt my back hair in a bar the other night. Whether she was disgusted or not is unknown to me, because the acted with grace and tact by not freaking out one way or the other. The world needs more people like that. As a final note on this bit here, I'll ask again for comments to be posted here--this time by the ladies only--stating your opinions on back hair, or hair in general, being a dealbreaker. Do not let anything I have said sway you, be honest and open, because life is more fun that way. Thanx.
The other part of being yourself that has me thinking today is the idea of acting differently than you instinctively would in any given situation. Obviously there are exceptions to this idea, such as farting at black-tie affairs, and really anything where manners should come first, but people should also try to represent themselves as true to form as they can in every day life, I think. While dining today with a female co-worker the subject of the behavior of young men came up. In asking my advice it was related that, having insisted upon this young woman taking his phone number he failed to return the ensuing call. I tried to offer advice, but the best I could do was suggest the way that I would find most humorous if accosted by a woman whom I had failed to call back. It occurred to me that this would be the natural response from the kind of girl I find interesting, but it might not be my friends automatic way of handling things. As a clarification, the way I told her to approach the young man was to say "Way to call me back, DICK!", an answer that I would find charming in its roughness, but perhaps would not work on other men. The point being that sometimes suggestions do not offer answers, and that people are better of going with their own true-blue inclinations rather than what others suggest or what they think someone else would expect. Honesty IS the best policy, so DON'T have a different act for different groups of friends or acquaintances but DO know how to handle yourself in myriad social situations--this includes being polite and charming, no matter what.
Okay, I think that's all for now. I'm really sleepy, but everybody should really get back to me on that back-hair thing. I really do want to know, and it is as easy as clicking on the little comment button at the bottom of this post. It won't take a second, and you'll barely feel a thing.
-A.R. Leith
Suggestions for today: If anybody finds themselves with a little spare time and they don't want to spend it helping me apply depillatory cream to my back they should check out these two essays that I have read lately that made me laugh out loud. The first one is by David Sedaris and is (I think) called "Six to Eight Black Men", and the other is by Dave Eggers called "Your Mother and I". Both are good, and funny, so turn off the goddamn TV for an hour and read something. Thank you, and goodnight.
Monday, June 27, 2005
Sunday, June 26, 2005
There is no way I am having "Sponge Bob" in the house of GOD!
Did you ever notice how sometimes life seems just a little bit brighter on mornings when you are hung-over? Some of the brightness is for more obvious reasons, like you forgot your sunglasses, and there is a giant ball of burning gas hanging in the sky, intent on doing you harm in a variety of ways. But there are other, more subtle, sorts of fun that come as pleasant surprises when your brain takes a little time for itself, and these will be enumerated here:
1. I woke up this morning...in a living room...on a couch...with a cute girl on the adjacent loveseat. I am in no way intoning that anything "sordid" happened between this lovely young lady and me, but rather stating that it is always nice to wake up in the same room with attractive people. Simple as that. It is especially helpful when you have recently consumed large quantities of malt liquor. Basically, my brain hurts this morning.
2. As I was gingerly making my way to the red-line this morning I happened upon a father and two small children standing in the doorway to their townhome. Ordinarily this situation would not have been all that amusing, except that the little boy in this family DID NOT want to go to church. He was trying to bring toys with him. A stance that I completely understand, because church is boring. It is like those classes where they have you read every page of the textbook and then lecture directly-out-of-the-textbook. Those classes are not fun. At any rate, the debate culminated with the father beginning to count (Does anybody else remember counting? That used to put the fear in me something fierce when I was a youngster.) and declaring "There is no way I am having 'sponge bob' in the house of god!" Which was made even more amusing by his thick Chicago accent.
3. McMotherfuckingGriddles! (Mike, buddy, you wanna stop?) I had some time to kill in Union Station this morning, and decided to indulge in the bit of bowel-flushing sin that is McDonald's breakfast. Feeling daring and more than a little loopey after my morning stroll in the summer sun I opted for the number nine breakfast...baconeggandcheese McGriddles, hashbrowns, OJ. Now, I have long been opposed to the McGriddles--mostly based on the seemingly arbitrary pluralization--and I figured that if you are going to slander something on a near daily basis you ought to at least "know your enemy" as they say. Needless to say, I feel dirty. Like I might need a long bath and absolution from a priest to get over my morning meal. Fuckingsyrupflavoredminipancakesandwich! Whoever invented this little gem should be stoned. (And not in the "hey man you want to play frisbee" sense, more in the "you have just blasphemed in early C.E. Rome" sense.) Just like I believe that catty women are the reason that a lot of young women hate themselves, and each other--well, that and shallow controlling men, but men like that are douche bags anyway--I similarly believe that McGriddles and their ilk are the reason that so many Americans are grotesquely overweight. I hate fat people. And being one, that takes a good dose of self-loathing to admit, but it's true. It is a lifestyle bred of laziness, that people should not be let off the hook for, being fat is not a disease any more than any other voluntary activity. Generally these activities are the path of least resistance, but that is hooey. That's right, hooey!
4. This is the last one--I promise. Today is gay pride parade day here in the Windy City and, while I didn't go to the parade itself per se, I did get to see some of the people who would be there as they were getting off the train this morning on their way to the festivities. So, it was a parade of sorts for me. I think it is kind of odd that I immensely enjoy watching people celebrate, but rarely enjoy celebrating myself. But it did a lad good to see all the people in full party mode this morning. Although, I don't know that so many people should have been so drunk at 10 in the morning. I think that having to set an alarm to start drinking might be one of the early signs that "you have a problem". Unless, of course, it is the last day of the ski season...so I guess everyone has their "thing".
-A.R. Leith
p.s.- Most "peasant shirts" look like maternity wear on almost all women, so take it easy ladies, I don't care what any of the major labels are doing, it's just a bad idea. But that's just one man's opinion (if you don't count Eric, Suzanne, and some other people, who seem to share the same opinion.) Thank you, and goodnight.
1. I woke up this morning...in a living room...on a couch...with a cute girl on the adjacent loveseat. I am in no way intoning that anything "sordid" happened between this lovely young lady and me, but rather stating that it is always nice to wake up in the same room with attractive people. Simple as that. It is especially helpful when you have recently consumed large quantities of malt liquor. Basically, my brain hurts this morning.
2. As I was gingerly making my way to the red-line this morning I happened upon a father and two small children standing in the doorway to their townhome. Ordinarily this situation would not have been all that amusing, except that the little boy in this family DID NOT want to go to church. He was trying to bring toys with him. A stance that I completely understand, because church is boring. It is like those classes where they have you read every page of the textbook and then lecture directly-out-of-the-textbook. Those classes are not fun. At any rate, the debate culminated with the father beginning to count (Does anybody else remember counting? That used to put the fear in me something fierce when I was a youngster.) and declaring "There is no way I am having 'sponge bob' in the house of god!" Which was made even more amusing by his thick Chicago accent.
3. McMotherfuckingGriddles! (Mike, buddy, you wanna stop?) I had some time to kill in Union Station this morning, and decided to indulge in the bit of bowel-flushing sin that is McDonald's breakfast. Feeling daring and more than a little loopey after my morning stroll in the summer sun I opted for the number nine breakfast...baconeggandcheese McGriddles, hashbrowns, OJ. Now, I have long been opposed to the McGriddles--mostly based on the seemingly arbitrary pluralization--and I figured that if you are going to slander something on a near daily basis you ought to at least "know your enemy" as they say. Needless to say, I feel dirty. Like I might need a long bath and absolution from a priest to get over my morning meal. Fuckingsyrupflavoredminipancakesandwich! Whoever invented this little gem should be stoned. (And not in the "hey man you want to play frisbee" sense, more in the "you have just blasphemed in early C.E. Rome" sense.) Just like I believe that catty women are the reason that a lot of young women hate themselves, and each other--well, that and shallow controlling men, but men like that are douche bags anyway--I similarly believe that McGriddles and their ilk are the reason that so many Americans are grotesquely overweight. I hate fat people. And being one, that takes a good dose of self-loathing to admit, but it's true. It is a lifestyle bred of laziness, that people should not be let off the hook for, being fat is not a disease any more than any other voluntary activity. Generally these activities are the path of least resistance, but that is hooey. That's right, hooey!
4. This is the last one--I promise. Today is gay pride parade day here in the Windy City and, while I didn't go to the parade itself per se, I did get to see some of the people who would be there as they were getting off the train this morning on their way to the festivities. So, it was a parade of sorts for me. I think it is kind of odd that I immensely enjoy watching people celebrate, but rarely enjoy celebrating myself. But it did a lad good to see all the people in full party mode this morning. Although, I don't know that so many people should have been so drunk at 10 in the morning. I think that having to set an alarm to start drinking might be one of the early signs that "you have a problem". Unless, of course, it is the last day of the ski season...so I guess everyone has their "thing".
-A.R. Leith
p.s.- Most "peasant shirts" look like maternity wear on almost all women, so take it easy ladies, I don't care what any of the major labels are doing, it's just a bad idea. But that's just one man's opinion (if you don't count Eric, Suzanne, and some other people, who seem to share the same opinion.) Thank you, and goodnight.
Friday, June 24, 2005
In Addition
Apparently my mother got wind of the subject of today's earlier blog entry and wanted everyone to know that she, too, had a prodigeous day on the procelain. I don't know if people are going to be sad or happy about this. Most likely the emotions will be disgust, apathy, or pity, but whatever. I just want to say that sometimes it is good to go out for the evening with your family and have a good session of coctails. We only went to four bars and one house tonight, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.
Also I would like to mention that the temperature has crested the mid-nineties here this week, and I have had to re-incarnate a long lost tradition. Living in the "high desert" and the mountains has lead to a very low moisture lifestyle for me, where lotion is a daily application. However, being in the middle west--with it's infamous humidity--I was forced to talc up this afternoon. It is really a wonderful thing that everyone should try if they are ever faced with humid conditions in their life. It gives everything a much more loose and freewheeling atmosphere, and I think more ladies were checking me out tonight than ever before. Okay, ta ta.
-A.R. Leith
Also I would like to mention that the temperature has crested the mid-nineties here this week, and I have had to re-incarnate a long lost tradition. Living in the "high desert" and the mountains has lead to a very low moisture lifestyle for me, where lotion is a daily application. However, being in the middle west--with it's infamous humidity--I was forced to talc up this afternoon. It is really a wonderful thing that everyone should try if they are ever faced with humid conditions in their life. It gives everything a much more loose and freewheeling atmosphere, and I think more ladies were checking me out tonight than ever before. Okay, ta ta.
-A.R. Leith
My Buttocks; Supple They Are Not...
Everybody poops. In fact, I think there is even a book by that title. But the fact is that I had to take a deuce this morning. That fact, taken on its own, is no great shakes I assure you. However, I had been a little backed up lately--a situation that I feel contributed to my recent bout of lower back pain. So, here's the recipe that always helps me in this situation:
1- 20oz. Cafe Mocha (double espresso)
2- Packets of instant oatmeal (cooked and stirred)
1- Qt of water
Mix all of these ingredients liberally in your stomach. But be sure you don't have plans for an hour or so afterwards, unless you don't concern yourself with feeling shame when defecating in your trousers. There is a bubbling sensation and everything is ready. Find yourself a sanitary porcelain mount, and go to town. Be sure to have plenty of two-ply, reading material, and a shower ready. Ta-Da!
Okay, that was kind of gross. Wasn't that gross? I think that was gross. I can't believe we just talked about it. Actually, to be fair I can absolutely believe that I typed it, but I cannot believe that YOU read it. What are you, some kind of fecalpheliac?
So, the real reason that I felt like writing today came to me when I was done with all that ugly business. I was attempting to re-assemble my outfit (which is stunning, today, by the way) and my short-pants were not cooperating. I would position them above my backside, and then quickly try to button them at the front. However, gravity and my near complete lack of a glutius conspired against me, to the point that it tood several tries before I was able to fasten the waistband.
My problem was first brought to my attention when I was pounced upon from behind in a dark concert hall by a long-time friend who was able to recognize me because, as she opined, I "have no butt". I don't really think that is a fair assessment, because I certainly have the proper muscles and there is not a simple void where the butt should be. My gluts are just on the smallish side. For this, I blame my parents. Genetics are everything in becoming a well rounded individual with a fabulously think back-side. My parents have given me everything I needed to become the man of the nineties that I am today, save for a luscious money maker. I do not really lament this, but at times it does make it uncomfortable to sit for extended periods.
I think that is all for now, but I will leave you with a list of things to think about:
1. I would make-out with Lisa Bonet (Circa The Cosby Show)
2. Artificial banana flavoring makes my skin crawl. I'm serious, it makes me want to go out and kill at night.
3. When I grow up I want to be a fire truck.
4. I want everyone who reads this to comment with a simple yes, or no, as to whether they would read a book if I wrote it, and somehow got it published. You know, just a collection of essays about everyday life. That would be fun, I think. So, please, comment.
5. Is it wrong that lately I find myself attracted to some women who are a decade my seniors?
-A.R. Leith
1- 20oz. Cafe Mocha (double espresso)
2- Packets of instant oatmeal (cooked and stirred)
1- Qt of water
Mix all of these ingredients liberally in your stomach. But be sure you don't have plans for an hour or so afterwards, unless you don't concern yourself with feeling shame when defecating in your trousers. There is a bubbling sensation and everything is ready. Find yourself a sanitary porcelain mount, and go to town. Be sure to have plenty of two-ply, reading material, and a shower ready. Ta-Da!
Okay, that was kind of gross. Wasn't that gross? I think that was gross. I can't believe we just talked about it. Actually, to be fair I can absolutely believe that I typed it, but I cannot believe that YOU read it. What are you, some kind of fecalpheliac?
So, the real reason that I felt like writing today came to me when I was done with all that ugly business. I was attempting to re-assemble my outfit (which is stunning, today, by the way) and my short-pants were not cooperating. I would position them above my backside, and then quickly try to button them at the front. However, gravity and my near complete lack of a glutius conspired against me, to the point that it tood several tries before I was able to fasten the waistband.
My problem was first brought to my attention when I was pounced upon from behind in a dark concert hall by a long-time friend who was able to recognize me because, as she opined, I "have no butt". I don't really think that is a fair assessment, because I certainly have the proper muscles and there is not a simple void where the butt should be. My gluts are just on the smallish side. For this, I blame my parents. Genetics are everything in becoming a well rounded individual with a fabulously think back-side. My parents have given me everything I needed to become the man of the nineties that I am today, save for a luscious money maker. I do not really lament this, but at times it does make it uncomfortable to sit for extended periods.
I think that is all for now, but I will leave you with a list of things to think about:
1. I would make-out with Lisa Bonet (Circa The Cosby Show)
2. Artificial banana flavoring makes my skin crawl. I'm serious, it makes me want to go out and kill at night.
3. When I grow up I want to be a fire truck.
4. I want everyone who reads this to comment with a simple yes, or no, as to whether they would read a book if I wrote it, and somehow got it published. You know, just a collection of essays about everyday life. That would be fun, I think. So, please, comment.
5. Is it wrong that lately I find myself attracted to some women who are a decade my seniors?
-A.R. Leith
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
No Small Wonder?
As the judge would say, "Well, I was able to sit up and take nourishment today, so that's good." That being said I think the way these kids are going today is right down the toidy. I'm serious goddamnit, don't laugh!
Currently I am living on a block where there are no less than 15 kids at or below high school age. Now, in and of itself there is no problem with this--you know how the trends go with swinging age demographics in various neighborhoods--the kids are just fine as living breathing organisms. The first problem is that I am pretty sure that these kids are not getting enough sleep. I sleep...I think it is a well known fact by now that I am a man who enjoys a nap. The problem is that these kids, these lovable skamps, they DO NOT SLEEP! Eight in the morning is evidently time to run around screaming and jumping through sprinklers and whatnot. Then at nine or so I think they give up the auspices of playing and just stand below my bedroom window and yell a lot. You would not believe the vocabulary on these youngsters...like sailors they are. It's Ef this, and GD that. They're adorable, but terribly blasphemous. No one can take the lords name in vein quite like the youngest of the bunch who recently asserted that "with god as his witness" he was going to "fornicate" his older brother "with an iron rod to within an inch of his life." Touching, really.
My only solace is that the catholic gradeschool behind me is out for the summer and the all afternoon kickball games have come to an end. Naptime is safe, for the time being. I'm sure you are all pretty happy about that. I know I am.
Aaaaanyway, on to the reason for this here entry being written-
(Does it bother anyone that I used "this here" to describe the entry being written? Is it too colloquial?) (In addition to that, and recognizing the impropriety of immediately sequential parenthetical side-bars, I just got a whiff of myself and I friggin reek. My underarms have gone somewhere south of fresh, and that is not a happy time. I know nobody should really care about that--except maybe Kristen, for the obvious and previously discussed reasons--but I wanted to put everyone in the same frame of mind that I have been enjoying this morning. Namely, underslept, scared for the future, and a little stinky.) (Oh my, I got really far off track there, didn't I? I'll try harder to stay focused in the next paragraph, I promise.)
Okay, the reason I am scared for the future of america is thus: I turned on the television to some program on the Nickelodeon called "Lazy Town". The reason I titled this entry "No Small Wonder" is because I was feeling nostalgic for the good old days when there was good wholesome programming about families who adopt little girl robots, from whom we could all learn a lesson about innocence, caring, and understanding--and sometimes cheating at little league (but that is neither here nor there). Her name was Vicky, and she wore a little red dress. For many of us she was the first practical proof that Artificial Intelligence was not just some far fetched dream. That Haley Joel Osmet (sp?) is just a johnny-come-lately, and did his best work in a touching movie about senior citizens in their declining years and a pet lion. Back in my day we had Sesame Street, and I'm not talking about this borderline brain damaged Street of the modern era where they try and get kids to eat cheese and veggies by having a bilingual man and a red sock puppet (who by all accounts seems to suffer from adult infantilism). I'm talking about back-in-the-day when we had Guy Smiley, and the Count. The Motherfucking Count! The Count was pretty much the Sam Jackson of our youth and all he did was count things. What a pimp. Although I still feel that the muppets was a superior program. Where else could you find a pig spoofing Star Wars, and Sylvester Stalone singing "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" in duet with a Lion muppet? Nowhere, that's where.
These days the kids are watching some business where plasticised pre-teens (and one real pre-teen) solve problems caused by some subterranean super-villain and their "superhero" friend (who seems to have no super powers other than the ability to jump and do the splits at the same time, and to get super stuck in super stupid situations that the kids have to save him from). Today's lesson is that we--and by "we" I mean the youth today, even though I know this show is not directed at me--can save the day if we use teamwork. They had to save this mustachioed-so-called-Sparticus-super-hero-type because he had become dislodged from his own "super airship". Not since the nineteen forties has anybody thought it a good idea for a person who has designs on saving the day to pilot a zeppelin. Deridgables are not known for their speed, quickness, or maneuverability as a general rule. At any rate, when I turned the show on this character had somehow found himself overboard and was dangling from some sort of landing platform at the bottom of his airship. Luckily the kids were able to save the day by teaming up and using a soccer ball, the mayor, a frisbee, a golf club, and apple, a ping pong paddle, and a baseball bat in a classic frisbee opens box of soccer balls-one of which gets kicked by the mayor-to knock an apple out of a tree-which is chipped to ping pong paddler-who relays the apple to the batter-who hits a long drive to the dangling superhero-who then eats it giving him the energy to climb up and drive home. Seriously, the mayor is the only believable character in this little show. I cannot imagine what the kids are supposed to be learing from this outfit. The first time some kid tries to pass thier friend an apple using either a baseball bat OR a golf club they will learn VERY quickly that the only results this will produce will start with A and rhyme with wapple sauce. And in closing I would like to mention that this show was sponsored by neither a letter nor a number. Although it was thankfully devoid of "monsters" who have become obsessed with baked goods.
-A.R. Leith
p.s.- I would like to leave you all with a bit of christmasy summer advice in the form of a quote: "Deck the halls with drunken folly!"- The Lawrence Arms
Currently I am living on a block where there are no less than 15 kids at or below high school age. Now, in and of itself there is no problem with this--you know how the trends go with swinging age demographics in various neighborhoods--the kids are just fine as living breathing organisms. The first problem is that I am pretty sure that these kids are not getting enough sleep. I sleep...I think it is a well known fact by now that I am a man who enjoys a nap. The problem is that these kids, these lovable skamps, they DO NOT SLEEP! Eight in the morning is evidently time to run around screaming and jumping through sprinklers and whatnot. Then at nine or so I think they give up the auspices of playing and just stand below my bedroom window and yell a lot. You would not believe the vocabulary on these youngsters...like sailors they are. It's Ef this, and GD that. They're adorable, but terribly blasphemous. No one can take the lords name in vein quite like the youngest of the bunch who recently asserted that "with god as his witness" he was going to "fornicate" his older brother "with an iron rod to within an inch of his life." Touching, really.
My only solace is that the catholic gradeschool behind me is out for the summer and the all afternoon kickball games have come to an end. Naptime is safe, for the time being. I'm sure you are all pretty happy about that. I know I am.
Aaaaanyway, on to the reason for this here entry being written-
(Does it bother anyone that I used "this here" to describe the entry being written? Is it too colloquial?) (In addition to that, and recognizing the impropriety of immediately sequential parenthetical side-bars, I just got a whiff of myself and I friggin reek. My underarms have gone somewhere south of fresh, and that is not a happy time. I know nobody should really care about that--except maybe Kristen, for the obvious and previously discussed reasons--but I wanted to put everyone in the same frame of mind that I have been enjoying this morning. Namely, underslept, scared for the future, and a little stinky.) (Oh my, I got really far off track there, didn't I? I'll try harder to stay focused in the next paragraph, I promise.)
Okay, the reason I am scared for the future of america is thus: I turned on the television to some program on the Nickelodeon called "Lazy Town". The reason I titled this entry "No Small Wonder" is because I was feeling nostalgic for the good old days when there was good wholesome programming about families who adopt little girl robots, from whom we could all learn a lesson about innocence, caring, and understanding--and sometimes cheating at little league (but that is neither here nor there). Her name was Vicky, and she wore a little red dress. For many of us she was the first practical proof that Artificial Intelligence was not just some far fetched dream. That Haley Joel Osmet (sp?) is just a johnny-come-lately, and did his best work in a touching movie about senior citizens in their declining years and a pet lion. Back in my day we had Sesame Street, and I'm not talking about this borderline brain damaged Street of the modern era where they try and get kids to eat cheese and veggies by having a bilingual man and a red sock puppet (who by all accounts seems to suffer from adult infantilism). I'm talking about back-in-the-day when we had Guy Smiley, and the Count. The Motherfucking Count! The Count was pretty much the Sam Jackson of our youth and all he did was count things. What a pimp. Although I still feel that the muppets was a superior program. Where else could you find a pig spoofing Star Wars, and Sylvester Stalone singing "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" in duet with a Lion muppet? Nowhere, that's where.
These days the kids are watching some business where plasticised pre-teens (and one real pre-teen) solve problems caused by some subterranean super-villain and their "superhero" friend (who seems to have no super powers other than the ability to jump and do the splits at the same time, and to get super stuck in super stupid situations that the kids have to save him from). Today's lesson is that we--and by "we" I mean the youth today, even though I know this show is not directed at me--can save the day if we use teamwork. They had to save this mustachioed-so-called-Sparticus-super-hero-type because he had become dislodged from his own "super airship". Not since the nineteen forties has anybody thought it a good idea for a person who has designs on saving the day to pilot a zeppelin. Deridgables are not known for their speed, quickness, or maneuverability as a general rule. At any rate, when I turned the show on this character had somehow found himself overboard and was dangling from some sort of landing platform at the bottom of his airship. Luckily the kids were able to save the day by teaming up and using a soccer ball, the mayor, a frisbee, a golf club, and apple, a ping pong paddle, and a baseball bat in a classic frisbee opens box of soccer balls-one of which gets kicked by the mayor-to knock an apple out of a tree-which is chipped to ping pong paddler-who relays the apple to the batter-who hits a long drive to the dangling superhero-who then eats it giving him the energy to climb up and drive home. Seriously, the mayor is the only believable character in this little show. I cannot imagine what the kids are supposed to be learing from this outfit. The first time some kid tries to pass thier friend an apple using either a baseball bat OR a golf club they will learn VERY quickly that the only results this will produce will start with A and rhyme with wapple sauce. And in closing I would like to mention that this show was sponsored by neither a letter nor a number. Although it was thankfully devoid of "monsters" who have become obsessed with baked goods.
-A.R. Leith
p.s.- I would like to leave you all with a bit of christmasy summer advice in the form of a quote: "Deck the halls with drunken folly!"- The Lawrence Arms
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Goddamnit!
Okay, I had just written a very lengthy, and if I do say so myself entertaining, blog entry that was sure to delight. However, because sometimes technology works against us, like in Jurassic Park, when I went to spell check the popup blocker wouldn't allow it. So I tried a different route. The entry was completely lost. And I'm telling you, this was a REALLY good blog entry. I found myself laughing out loud as I wrote it, so if you feel you have been slighted (and you should) I would suggest writing an angry letter to whoever these clown shoes are the make things more difficult instead of easy. Oh, and also punch whomever decided that "pop-ups" were a good idea right in the kisser. Because without that asshole the "pop-up blocker" whould have even entered into it. Well fuck all...the main idea of the blog that I don't have time to rewrite now, but will get to when I have a chance was that I'm a little concerned that I might be a letcherous pervert, and that Mike and Sadie are lovely people who will undoubtedly have a long and happy life together, so happy day to them, and many more to come. Pisser! (Not to mike and sadie, to computers, bah!)
-A.R. Leith
p.s.- I don't know if this is a fluke, but every time I go to a wedding lately I get the song "not that kind of girlfriend" by the smoking popes stuck in my head. I wish someone would give it a listen and tell me if it is my psyche trying to tell me something. Werd.
-A.R. Leith
p.s.- I don't know if this is a fluke, but every time I go to a wedding lately I get the song "not that kind of girlfriend" by the smoking popes stuck in my head. I wish someone would give it a listen and tell me if it is my psyche trying to tell me something. Werd.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
The other side of the coin-
It has been said by many a person that "what you dislike in others is what you dislike in yourself." That being said I think the reason I call "bullshit" on so many people--and the reason I can tell that people are being fake or insincere--is because I myself often feel like I am insincere. I alter my behaviour to be suitable to the situation I am in. I do this because of what I view as a sense of propriety. There is a time and a place for cutting loose and being free, but there is also a time and a place to recognize that you are part of a society with a substructure of guidelines and rules which, if they were ignored all the time, would lead to a sort of chaos. Essentially, I believe in society. I believe in culture, and propriety (even though it doesn't always show.) Understanding that about myself makes me want others around me to know how to behave/act/dress for any situation in life so that it suits the situation, not a persons ability to be an individual. So many people attempt to make themselves "unique" by their outward appearance and spend little to no time making their minds and ideas unique. It's the whole "book by it's cover" thing. If you are truly your own individual it will come through, no matter what you look like on the outside, so might as well dress the part of whatever you are doing, and the singularity of who you are will find a way to shine through. It's as easy as that in my mind, if that is easy at all?
The bottom line is that I was thinking about this in the shower this morning. I could give a fuck what people think about me...deep inside. But what I don't want is people judging me on my appearance, because that keeps them from getting to know me and judging me by who I am. So I dress in the middle "Prep-core" I call the style. But I feel it's accessible. But anyone who gets to "into" one style or lifestyle or another can fornicate themselves with an iron rod, because obsessive behaviour is strange, and kind of creepy. Keep and open mind and an open heart and life will fall into place. Word up.
-A.R. Leith
The bottom line is that I was thinking about this in the shower this morning. I could give a fuck what people think about me...deep inside. But what I don't want is people judging me on my appearance, because that keeps them from getting to know me and judging me by who I am. So I dress in the middle "Prep-core" I call the style. But I feel it's accessible. But anyone who gets to "into" one style or lifestyle or another can fornicate themselves with an iron rod, because obsessive behaviour is strange, and kind of creepy. Keep and open mind and an open heart and life will fall into place. Word up.
-A.R. Leith
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
My Prediction...
...is that belts and sashes are going to be all the rage in Wookie fashion this season.
So, I went to the movies tonight. Actually, I went to the movies last night too, but the movie from yesterday doesn't bear mentioning here save for the fact that Iron Mike should possibly have his name mentioned when it comes time to give out statuettes.
No, no, the film experience tonight was something vastly more disappointing and upsetting. I was made to watch Star Trek Three: return of the Je...Sith, or somesuch. My reaction that is reflected here is not going to be about the movie directly--although it was both disappointing AND upsetting--but rather it shall focus on this movie, and the bevy of others like it that have surfaced lately.
What is going on in the world today that we need such rampant escapism in the theaters? Is it because they have run out of solid movie ideas in Hollywood to the point that they are just rehashing old ideas quicker than you can say thelongestyardwaroftheworldsbadnewsbearsandpeterpanwithatwist three times fast? Why all the fantasy, the science fiction, and the longing for days gone by? Is the modern world such a shitty place that we can't bear to face it? Do we need that two hour break from reality so much that any old story will do, no matter how implausible?
The biggest blockbusters of late that come to mind are: the Star Wars saga, The Lord of the Rings epic, and their ilk...including, but not limited to, Harry Potter's franchise, and some upcoming movie about a piece of furniture/dimensional portal. What, exactly, is it that we are trying to get away from? At this point I think we have all considered the fact the the world just might be a shitty place to live. Rather than owning this reality, however, everyone chooses to participate in a good deal of name calling and finger pointing, or just hide from the truth outright. It would seem that people would prefer to be whisked away to a world where the ending is most likely happy, rather than spending any time constructively coming up with a way to try and end poverty, and spread authentic liberty--rather than the liberty given out at gunpoint by heavily armed teenagers, no matter if the people were asking for it.
Take me, for a prime example. I consider myself to be well-rounded, intelligent, and at least a little bit caring. But here I am, complaining about the world (and maybe poking a little fun here and there) rather than getting off my fat ass and doing anything about it. Well that's just great. Great job, dude. But what are you gonna do, really? In a land where people are in over their heads financially just to feel "comfortable" and more than half the population will back a man based on his domestic "values" while his other hand is busy picking at a wound that would heal if left alone. (Now, this may just be me, or does it seem that if we just got our noses out of the middle east they, as a whole would not dislike us as much? I read--or heard, I forget which--somewhere the other day that something like 97% of Iraqis just want the United States to leave them alone. I don't see why we don't give it a try...what's the worst that could happen, a theocracy? That's pretty much what we have in the U.S. right now, so what gives?)
Aaaanyway, most of this came from three hours in a dark theater with a full bladder. Mostly one line in the movie struck me as interesting because I thought it relevant to modern American politics: "So this is how liberty ends...to resounding applause." I thought it touching, at least. Okay, that's all for now. Comment with any questions, comments, complaints, etc. Word.
-A.R. Leith
So, I went to the movies tonight. Actually, I went to the movies last night too, but the movie from yesterday doesn't bear mentioning here save for the fact that Iron Mike should possibly have his name mentioned when it comes time to give out statuettes.
No, no, the film experience tonight was something vastly more disappointing and upsetting. I was made to watch Star Trek Three: return of the Je...Sith, or somesuch. My reaction that is reflected here is not going to be about the movie directly--although it was both disappointing AND upsetting--but rather it shall focus on this movie, and the bevy of others like it that have surfaced lately.
What is going on in the world today that we need such rampant escapism in the theaters? Is it because they have run out of solid movie ideas in Hollywood to the point that they are just rehashing old ideas quicker than you can say thelongestyardwaroftheworldsbadnewsbearsandpeterpanwithatwist three times fast? Why all the fantasy, the science fiction, and the longing for days gone by? Is the modern world such a shitty place that we can't bear to face it? Do we need that two hour break from reality so much that any old story will do, no matter how implausible?
The biggest blockbusters of late that come to mind are: the Star Wars saga, The Lord of the Rings epic, and their ilk...including, but not limited to, Harry Potter's franchise, and some upcoming movie about a piece of furniture/dimensional portal. What, exactly, is it that we are trying to get away from? At this point I think we have all considered the fact the the world just might be a shitty place to live. Rather than owning this reality, however, everyone chooses to participate in a good deal of name calling and finger pointing, or just hide from the truth outright. It would seem that people would prefer to be whisked away to a world where the ending is most likely happy, rather than spending any time constructively coming up with a way to try and end poverty, and spread authentic liberty--rather than the liberty given out at gunpoint by heavily armed teenagers, no matter if the people were asking for it.
Take me, for a prime example. I consider myself to be well-rounded, intelligent, and at least a little bit caring. But here I am, complaining about the world (and maybe poking a little fun here and there) rather than getting off my fat ass and doing anything about it. Well that's just great. Great job, dude. But what are you gonna do, really? In a land where people are in over their heads financially just to feel "comfortable" and more than half the population will back a man based on his domestic "values" while his other hand is busy picking at a wound that would heal if left alone. (Now, this may just be me, or does it seem that if we just got our noses out of the middle east they, as a whole would not dislike us as much? I read--or heard, I forget which--somewhere the other day that something like 97% of Iraqis just want the United States to leave them alone. I don't see why we don't give it a try...what's the worst that could happen, a theocracy? That's pretty much what we have in the U.S. right now, so what gives?)
Aaaanyway, most of this came from three hours in a dark theater with a full bladder. Mostly one line in the movie struck me as interesting because I thought it relevant to modern American politics: "So this is how liberty ends...to resounding applause." I thought it touching, at least. Okay, that's all for now. Comment with any questions, comments, complaints, etc. Word.
-A.R. Leith
Friday, May 27, 2005
I Woke Up Today
...So, that was nice.
What made it even better was that, when I rolled out of bed (by all accounts the time was nearing eleven), Jerry Springer was on. Now, I know it is just a little thing, but it was nice. The only daytime talk shows we get in the mountains are Montel and some overly sensitive rabble like Ellen, or Tony Danza--who recently attempted suicide using a go-cart...apparently he is twelve.
Of course, we all know that Springer is totally made up, but who cares!? Although, at this point the competition for exposing the dregs of society is getting pretty tight between the former politician from Ohio and the local news. I think if it didn't happen with in my actual neighborhood I don't really need to hear about bad things that happen to other people. Okay, maybe if it happened to a member of my family, but I would hear about that through the proper channels anyway.
The fact is that I do not need to know about the guy in Atlanta perched on a crane. I hope he slips, falls and hurts himself severely, but does not die. He deserves it for wasting my time. In fact I hope he develops a limp that never goes away. Actually, I hope he falls on a news person while he is at it. I just re-read an awesome article by Donna Deliva where she totally went off on reporters, among other things, it is a very good article and can be found in Vice magazine's "Bullshit" issue. Look it up.
I think that is all I really want to write about right now, except to send props out to all the people who have done things around me in the past that have provided me with continuing amusement inside my head while I am physically enduring great deals of boredom or tedium. So, right now, props go out to:
Lindsay, from Shakespeare class, who decided that she was periodically going to have an "AWESOME TIME". I laugh a lot at that in my head.
Chuck Norris for being so dedicated to a super shitty acting career that any mention of the names Chuck, or Norris, leads me to a good chuckle. Thanks.
That's all for now, but as I remember random funny stuff from my head, I will keep putting them here where you have to read them (butsecretlydeepdownyoulikeit).
-A.R. Leith
Quote (And future title of a book I will write): from Jon Stewart's Naked Pictures of Famous People - "P.S. My vagina is a mess."
What made it even better was that, when I rolled out of bed (by all accounts the time was nearing eleven), Jerry Springer was on. Now, I know it is just a little thing, but it was nice. The only daytime talk shows we get in the mountains are Montel and some overly sensitive rabble like Ellen, or Tony Danza--who recently attempted suicide using a go-cart...apparently he is twelve.
Of course, we all know that Springer is totally made up, but who cares!? Although, at this point the competition for exposing the dregs of society is getting pretty tight between the former politician from Ohio and the local news. I think if it didn't happen with in my actual neighborhood I don't really need to hear about bad things that happen to other people. Okay, maybe if it happened to a member of my family, but I would hear about that through the proper channels anyway.
The fact is that I do not need to know about the guy in Atlanta perched on a crane. I hope he slips, falls and hurts himself severely, but does not die. He deserves it for wasting my time. In fact I hope he develops a limp that never goes away. Actually, I hope he falls on a news person while he is at it. I just re-read an awesome article by Donna Deliva where she totally went off on reporters, among other things, it is a very good article and can be found in Vice magazine's "Bullshit" issue. Look it up.
I think that is all I really want to write about right now, except to send props out to all the people who have done things around me in the past that have provided me with continuing amusement inside my head while I am physically enduring great deals of boredom or tedium. So, right now, props go out to:
Lindsay, from Shakespeare class, who decided that she was periodically going to have an "AWESOME TIME". I laugh a lot at that in my head.
Chuck Norris for being so dedicated to a super shitty acting career that any mention of the names Chuck, or Norris, leads me to a good chuckle. Thanks.
That's all for now, but as I remember random funny stuff from my head, I will keep putting them here where you have to read them (butsecretlydeepdownyoulikeit).
-A.R. Leith
Quote (And future title of a book I will write): from Jon Stewart's Naked Pictures of Famous People - "P.S. My vagina is a mess."
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Sweet Home Chicago
Okay, this is going to be brief. I just want to run down what's going on in life of late, to kind of catch up so that in the near future I can tackle some other subjects. Werd.
I'm in Chicago for the summer right now, and things are cooler by the lake. That's about all there is to say about that, except that everything is much farther from my house here. I was going through gas like crazy until I realized that my friends houses were sometimes like 30 miles away. In the D town the longest drive I have is the six miles to work once a day. Goddamnit! It's okay though because petrol is way cheaper here. And there is public transportation. So that's nice.
(This next statement has very little to do with the girls I know in durango, because I only associate with attractive people, as a general rule, but...) There are so many fine looking women around here that it's effi'n amazing. Everywhere you turn there seems to be a cute girl. That being said, "There are a million fine looking women in the world, but they won't all bring you lasagna at work." Meaning; it is all well and good to look nice, but there has to be some substance behind the glossy exterior. It is the content that really matters in the end...because we all get pruny and gross and stretched out in weird places as we get older, but what's inside stays the same.
Okay, that's all for now. I'm going to the cubs game tonight, so that should be fun. Talk to you all in the near immediate future.
-A.R. Leith
Quote- "In my perfect world, I'd be assigned a perfect girl. The price...one million kisses." - Jawbreaker
I'm in Chicago for the summer right now, and things are cooler by the lake. That's about all there is to say about that, except that everything is much farther from my house here. I was going through gas like crazy until I realized that my friends houses were sometimes like 30 miles away. In the D town the longest drive I have is the six miles to work once a day. Goddamnit! It's okay though because petrol is way cheaper here. And there is public transportation. So that's nice.
(This next statement has very little to do with the girls I know in durango, because I only associate with attractive people, as a general rule, but...) There are so many fine looking women around here that it's effi'n amazing. Everywhere you turn there seems to be a cute girl. That being said, "There are a million fine looking women in the world, but they won't all bring you lasagna at work." Meaning; it is all well and good to look nice, but there has to be some substance behind the glossy exterior. It is the content that really matters in the end...because we all get pruny and gross and stretched out in weird places as we get older, but what's inside stays the same.
Okay, that's all for now. I'm going to the cubs game tonight, so that should be fun. Talk to you all in the near immediate future.
-A.R. Leith
Quote- "In my perfect world, I'd be assigned a perfect girl. The price...one million kisses." - Jawbreaker
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Lately,
I have been getting a lot of these "inside the nose" pimples. I don't know if anybody really knows what I'm talking about--or has had the misfortune of actually experiencing one of these gems--but they hurt like the dickens and are virtually impossible to lance. Last week there was one in my left nostril, and now there is one in the right. Thankfully they are not coinciding which would probably drive me up the wall. No, the left has dissipated, but the right rages on. I don't really know why I'm telling anyone about this, but the information is now out there, and you have to deal with the repercussions of having it. Ha!
So, I've been thinking about lifestyles lately. Not in the grand sense of what gender you prefer, or if you might be a ladykiller rather than a shy everyman. No, these thoughts have been of the utterly domestic order. As previously mentioned I will soon be returning to the suburbs from my current rural mountain home. The change will not only be in denseness of living, altitude, climate, etc. But it will also mark a movement from "college" living to a much more civilized style of home. I see nothing wrong with this change, other than that it makes me think about all the niceties that I--being a struggling student--cannot afford myself.
I generally feel much more comfortable in a clean, well organized, well decorated home. These, however, are luxuries that I do not currently have because of a lack of time and funds. Sometimes I feel like a slacker because I do not have money to throw around on home furnishings and the like. But then I think about some of the residents of my family and friends as they went through college and do not feel so bad. At the very least there are no holes between floors of my residence. So that's something.
Overall I think there is just a desire within me to achieve, to succeed. And that is what all this schooling is for. (Although my time spent on higher education has severely overstepped the bounds of normalcy.) The fact is that someday I will be able to attain all these things that I really want out of life, and I should spend more time focusing on the here and now, enjoying this time for what it is rather than what it is not. So I'm going to go get started on that now...or at least when I get up in the morning. If anybody wants to hang out and do something crazy with me, they should give me a call, or drop me an emial. Laters.
-A.R. Leith
New quote, because Reggie is tired of repeats:
"If you have a brain and use it too, you've got to know that I've got a crush on you."- Magnified Plaid
So, I've been thinking about lifestyles lately. Not in the grand sense of what gender you prefer, or if you might be a ladykiller rather than a shy everyman. No, these thoughts have been of the utterly domestic order. As previously mentioned I will soon be returning to the suburbs from my current rural mountain home. The change will not only be in denseness of living, altitude, climate, etc. But it will also mark a movement from "college" living to a much more civilized style of home. I see nothing wrong with this change, other than that it makes me think about all the niceties that I--being a struggling student--cannot afford myself.
I generally feel much more comfortable in a clean, well organized, well decorated home. These, however, are luxuries that I do not currently have because of a lack of time and funds. Sometimes I feel like a slacker because I do not have money to throw around on home furnishings and the like. But then I think about some of the residents of my family and friends as they went through college and do not feel so bad. At the very least there are no holes between floors of my residence. So that's something.
Overall I think there is just a desire within me to achieve, to succeed. And that is what all this schooling is for. (Although my time spent on higher education has severely overstepped the bounds of normalcy.) The fact is that someday I will be able to attain all these things that I really want out of life, and I should spend more time focusing on the here and now, enjoying this time for what it is rather than what it is not. So I'm going to go get started on that now...or at least when I get up in the morning. If anybody wants to hang out and do something crazy with me, they should give me a call, or drop me an emial. Laters.
-A.R. Leith
New quote, because Reggie is tired of repeats:
"If you have a brain and use it too, you've got to know that I've got a crush on you."- Magnified Plaid
Friday, May 06, 2005
In A Haze
Of late I have been wandering around in an almost complete daze. It is due, I suppose, to the combination of an awful allergy season and the uncertainty of life.
Not that life is ever really that uncertain. I dislike uncertainty--try to avoid it at all costs. I like to know, to be sure of what is going on around me. What has happened, what will happen, and what is happening. Not knowing makes me self conscious and shy. I prefer to be confident and gregarious. At the source:
Soon I will be moving home for several months. I look forward to this change of pace a great deal. However, at this point it has been so long since I've actually lived there that it has morphed into a situation that is "new", so to speak. I'm nervous about what will go on while I'm there. Who will I hang out with? What will I deem "fun"? All of that sort of stuff. It should be a good time, no doubt, but right now it is just a looming bump in the otherwise uninterrupted normalcy of my life.
For the past four years my life has gone Spring: done skiing go golfing finish school, Summer: take some school work at golf course drink too much, Autumn: stop golfing start thinking about skiing go back to school, Winter: ski too much work too much drink too much study too much stress out. That's it. Every year I have known what was coming next...or at least what was supposed to come next. This year there is a monkey wrench in the works and it is creating excitement. I'm not sure that I like excitement.
I've grown complacent in life. I'm comfortably in a rut. I live in a town of roughly 36,000 people, two thirds of whom I either do not know or do not care for. As for the other third, they are good people. There's a nice, familial, feel to knowing the people in your neighborhood. But, it does breed inaction. When everything is good and comfortable a person is generally loathe to change it. Perhaps this is why I have thrown myself a curve ball this summer. I have no doubts that everything (both with this summer, and with life in general) will turn out for the better.
The other problem is a lack of people in my life, currently, who are okay with doing nothing, all day long. Perhaps it is a symptom of growing older, but it seems that everyone is just too busy these days. There was a time when there were people whom you did stuff with. It didn't matter what you did as long as the people you were doing it with were fun. Those days seem to have gone by the wayside. I know that at this point I have stopped flogging the dead horse and am now kicking it in the teeth and giving it an elbow drop, but could it be that what I want most from a woman--from a girlfriend--is someone who just wants to hang out with me all the time, and who I likewise want to spend time with. It doesn't matter if you're going shopping at Wal-Mart at three in the morning, or just wandering around the town for shits and giggles, it's nice to have someone along with a good sense of humor. But alas I have digressed. I'm done now. Check back later for more.
-A.R. Leith
Two Quotes to End it:
"Assign me to a nice girl...so she can ruin me, eternally."- Jawbreaker
"There's no telling what you can learn, by taking your pants off."- !!!
Not that life is ever really that uncertain. I dislike uncertainty--try to avoid it at all costs. I like to know, to be sure of what is going on around me. What has happened, what will happen, and what is happening. Not knowing makes me self conscious and shy. I prefer to be confident and gregarious. At the source:
Soon I will be moving home for several months. I look forward to this change of pace a great deal. However, at this point it has been so long since I've actually lived there that it has morphed into a situation that is "new", so to speak. I'm nervous about what will go on while I'm there. Who will I hang out with? What will I deem "fun"? All of that sort of stuff. It should be a good time, no doubt, but right now it is just a looming bump in the otherwise uninterrupted normalcy of my life.
For the past four years my life has gone Spring: done skiing go golfing finish school, Summer: take some school work at golf course drink too much, Autumn: stop golfing start thinking about skiing go back to school, Winter: ski too much work too much drink too much study too much stress out. That's it. Every year I have known what was coming next...or at least what was supposed to come next. This year there is a monkey wrench in the works and it is creating excitement. I'm not sure that I like excitement.
I've grown complacent in life. I'm comfortably in a rut. I live in a town of roughly 36,000 people, two thirds of whom I either do not know or do not care for. As for the other third, they are good people. There's a nice, familial, feel to knowing the people in your neighborhood. But, it does breed inaction. When everything is good and comfortable a person is generally loathe to change it. Perhaps this is why I have thrown myself a curve ball this summer. I have no doubts that everything (both with this summer, and with life in general) will turn out for the better.
The other problem is a lack of people in my life, currently, who are okay with doing nothing, all day long. Perhaps it is a symptom of growing older, but it seems that everyone is just too busy these days. There was a time when there were people whom you did stuff with. It didn't matter what you did as long as the people you were doing it with were fun. Those days seem to have gone by the wayside. I know that at this point I have stopped flogging the dead horse and am now kicking it in the teeth and giving it an elbow drop, but could it be that what I want most from a woman--from a girlfriend--is someone who just wants to hang out with me all the time, and who I likewise want to spend time with. It doesn't matter if you're going shopping at Wal-Mart at three in the morning, or just wandering around the town for shits and giggles, it's nice to have someone along with a good sense of humor. But alas I have digressed. I'm done now. Check back later for more.
-A.R. Leith
Two Quotes to End it:
"Assign me to a nice girl...so she can ruin me, eternally."- Jawbreaker
"There's no telling what you can learn, by taking your pants off."- !!!
Monday, May 02, 2005
And Then...
...We All Bought Towels.
It's been a while, yeah?
So the semester is over. Vegas was visited, and we all bought towels. I understand that it has been a while since I have updated what--I'm sure--is everyone's favorite web site. And, indeed, there have been quite a few things on my mind since we last spoke. So here they go, in no particular order:
1. I woke up the other day to go to work. Not a stunning feat all on it's own, but there's more... While I was eating oatmeal and waiting for my car to warm up. (Just in case any of you DON'T know, young Vicky is a very finicky lady.) While this was going on I decided to edify myself with a little bit of television. And what should I happen to catch but the climactic soliloquy from the film adaptation of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. If you have neither seen, nor read, this little gem I would suggest it to all. As the story goes, there is a young architect who refuses to compromise his style and ideas to the modern will and whimsy. The message that has so endeared this book to me is that of personal achievement and accountability. I believe that everyone [every adult] is, or should be, responsible for themselves. This includes the notion that those who can and do achieve should be held accountable because others have not. Could multinational conglomerates exploit the workers in foreign lands if they could find no willing workers--at any cost--in those countries? Probably not. Is personal achievement different from greed? I think so. Especially where The Fountainhead is concerned, in that the message is not about acquisition of wealth, but rather not being willing to give up your beliefs simply because someone else tries to force you to. I think that people should be able to believe and behave how they desire, so long as it does not hurt another person. Which brings us to a second question...
2. I was at a sort of dinner party last night where the game of Scatergories was being played. I was a willing participant in the game and enjoying myself when a moral question was raised. the clue was "Things that jump/bounce" the letter was "R", and my answer was "Retarded Kids". A question was raised concerning the propriety of this answer. To be frank, one of the other contestants suggested that I be denied the point, not because--in this case--the word "retarded" is an adjective and therefore modifies the noun, "kids", but rather because my answer was thought to be "tacky". At the time I thought it best not to create a row and did not make an issue of the refused point. However, upon further review I began to wonder... Is it more "tacky" (a word that I hate because somehow it never fails to remind me of Joan Rivers) to refer to these mentally disabled people in the context of things that jump and/or bounce, which indeed they do, or to assume that they are somehow lesser beings, in need of protection from life and "name calling"? So many groups who are somehow seen as "different" wish only to be treated as equals in the human race. That being the case, should punches be pulled because someone is "differently abled", or should you treat them in the same way you might treat anyone else that you deal with on a day to day basis? I kind of suspect that it is the same type of person who desires that someone with a developmental disability should be treated with kid gloves (in other words, not as an equal, but as someone to be sheltered, protected, or otherwise made to feel different) and also recoils from homeless persons in horror. Now, maybe it was a bit gauche for me to use that particular modifier in a board game, but it did bring to light the broader philosophical question of whether treating people differently helps or hurts in the end. For me, the jury is still out, but I do lean towards treating everyone the same, regardless of who they are. It may be cruel, but it might also be the only fair way to do business.
Okay, that is all for right now, because I am tired, but there will be more shortly, I assure you. Because, summer is here, and I'll have to vent somewhere. Ta Da!
-A.R. Leith
It's been a while, yeah?
So the semester is over. Vegas was visited, and we all bought towels. I understand that it has been a while since I have updated what--I'm sure--is everyone's favorite web site. And, indeed, there have been quite a few things on my mind since we last spoke. So here they go, in no particular order:
1. I woke up the other day to go to work. Not a stunning feat all on it's own, but there's more... While I was eating oatmeal and waiting for my car to warm up. (Just in case any of you DON'T know, young Vicky is a very finicky lady.) While this was going on I decided to edify myself with a little bit of television. And what should I happen to catch but the climactic soliloquy from the film adaptation of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. If you have neither seen, nor read, this little gem I would suggest it to all. As the story goes, there is a young architect who refuses to compromise his style and ideas to the modern will and whimsy. The message that has so endeared this book to me is that of personal achievement and accountability. I believe that everyone [every adult] is, or should be, responsible for themselves. This includes the notion that those who can and do achieve should be held accountable because others have not. Could multinational conglomerates exploit the workers in foreign lands if they could find no willing workers--at any cost--in those countries? Probably not. Is personal achievement different from greed? I think so. Especially where The Fountainhead is concerned, in that the message is not about acquisition of wealth, but rather not being willing to give up your beliefs simply because someone else tries to force you to. I think that people should be able to believe and behave how they desire, so long as it does not hurt another person. Which brings us to a second question...
2. I was at a sort of dinner party last night where the game of Scatergories was being played. I was a willing participant in the game and enjoying myself when a moral question was raised. the clue was "Things that jump/bounce" the letter was "R", and my answer was "Retarded Kids". A question was raised concerning the propriety of this answer. To be frank, one of the other contestants suggested that I be denied the point, not because--in this case--the word "retarded" is an adjective and therefore modifies the noun, "kids", but rather because my answer was thought to be "tacky". At the time I thought it best not to create a row and did not make an issue of the refused point. However, upon further review I began to wonder... Is it more "tacky" (a word that I hate because somehow it never fails to remind me of Joan Rivers) to refer to these mentally disabled people in the context of things that jump and/or bounce, which indeed they do, or to assume that they are somehow lesser beings, in need of protection from life and "name calling"? So many groups who are somehow seen as "different" wish only to be treated as equals in the human race. That being the case, should punches be pulled because someone is "differently abled", or should you treat them in the same way you might treat anyone else that you deal with on a day to day basis? I kind of suspect that it is the same type of person who desires that someone with a developmental disability should be treated with kid gloves (in other words, not as an equal, but as someone to be sheltered, protected, or otherwise made to feel different) and also recoils from homeless persons in horror. Now, maybe it was a bit gauche for me to use that particular modifier in a board game, but it did bring to light the broader philosophical question of whether treating people differently helps or hurts in the end. For me, the jury is still out, but I do lean towards treating everyone the same, regardless of who they are. It may be cruel, but it might also be the only fair way to do business.
Okay, that is all for right now, because I am tired, but there will be more shortly, I assure you. Because, summer is here, and I'll have to vent somewhere. Ta Da!
-A.R. Leith
Friday, April 08, 2005
What's up Florida?
...Why you acting so crazy?
In addition to the cesspool that I already believed it to be there have been many instances that have lately been brought to my attention giving good reason that the state of Florida should be forced into secession and it's people left to their own devices. The reasons are innumerable, but--for the reasons of clarity and comprehension--will be enumerated here.
Having spent several years living in Florida during childhood I can unequivocally say that it is tantamount to a colostomy bag that miraculously gained statehood. However, the more recent cases of oddity and gross negligence have a more resounding quality than the testimony of a child. And so, they will be related to you forthwith.
Number One- While recently perusing one of my favorite online sites (in this case "Get Your War On") and reading a commentary on the Schiavo case which was at the time raging in the "state-that-shall-not-be-named". The statement made was to the effect that the United States should cut it's losses in Iraq and elsewhere. Where the future former state is concerned the suggestion was that it should be severed from the rest of the country before the "torso" becomes infected, and that the state's residents should be left little more than a goodbye note and a gift certificate to applebees. I applaud this decision and wish to see it carried out as quickly as possible, but that is not the point here. The point is that this innocently funny statement got me thinking about just how many things come out of the state of Florida all bass-ackwards.
Number Two- So, the Schiavo case is number one (hard to believe when we all know USA is #1), number two comes in the form of a couple of other medical oddities. First, the case of Baby Karen--at least I think her name is Karen, and I don't really want to look it up right now. Now poor baby Karen was born without a brain; I know that is unpleasant to think about, but it happens more often than you might want to consider (about one in 10,000 babies in the U.S. are born anacephalic), so we're going to think about it now. Even more unpleasant is the thought of a bunch of dead babies piling up everywhere. That is why it is baffling that the Floridian judicial system would rather have two dead babies than one. You see, the parents of this young baby wanted to donate her usable organs so that other babies might live, because Karen herself would not live more than a week or so. Turns out that is VERY illegal under current Florida law. They would rather ALL of the babies die, rather than only the baby that had no chance of survival anyway.
The second instance was one of a Dentist who was giving his patients the AIDS virus. Apparently he was informed by the Florida board of health that it was perfectly alright for him to continue practicing medicine, and that there was no need for him to inform his patients that he was HIV positive. We all understand that accidents happen, but this is just gross misconduct all around. I'm starting to think that there is something in the water--besides the thousands of pounds of farming chemicals dumped into the Everglades--down there...
Number Three- This one is more political. Actually, this consists of two examples. One is the botched election in 2000. There are rampant accusations of voter fraud in the state of Florida surrounding November of that year, including anyone with a name that even matched that of a convicted felon not being able to vote because they had been removed from the voter rolls. The theory being that most people in prison were non-white. Now these, of course, are simply accusations. They may not be true, and they may not even be founded, but the fact is that something was so screwed up in that state that the door was left open to such accusations, so something isn't being done right.
The second item for number three is that of NASA (which stands for the National aeronautic Something Aruther). They have somehow found a way to reverse Newton's idea that "what goes up, must come down". I suppose they haven't exactly reversed it, as much as they have bent it a little by altering the number of pieces it comes down in. This is kind of cruel, and not really funny, just a fact, and something else that should be fixed before the whole state wins the "Darwin Award".
Number Four- Disney World. It's kind of sad when a company that blatantly alters history, preys on young children, holds cartoons hostage, and employs land purchasing and political tactics that are sketchy at best is the best thing your state has going for it. Actually, it is a toss up between Disney and the whole "Margaritaville" thing for the title of best thing in Florida, but that's still not saying much. I will say this, Disney World is the only clean part of Florida, end of story. Plus, they have a monorail...they just can't let NASA get their hands on that. (For a more in depth look at Disney read Carl Hiaasen's Team Rodent.)
I think that is about all for now. It will at least give some people some stuff to think about for a little while. As usual, comments are welcome. And hey, look on the bright side, this isn't nearly as depressing on a personal level as all that stuff about the ladies. I shouldn't worry, it'll happen when it happens, right?
-A.R. Leith
p.s.- Hey, wasn't Ted Bundy down in Florida too? That's fucking it, get me a scissors and something to lance that thing with. I'll get rid of that boil myself.
Quote: "I'll call you on your shit if you please call me on mine."- Propagandhi
In addition to the cesspool that I already believed it to be there have been many instances that have lately been brought to my attention giving good reason that the state of Florida should be forced into secession and it's people left to their own devices. The reasons are innumerable, but--for the reasons of clarity and comprehension--will be enumerated here.
Having spent several years living in Florida during childhood I can unequivocally say that it is tantamount to a colostomy bag that miraculously gained statehood. However, the more recent cases of oddity and gross negligence have a more resounding quality than the testimony of a child. And so, they will be related to you forthwith.
Number One- While recently perusing one of my favorite online sites (in this case "Get Your War On") and reading a commentary on the Schiavo case which was at the time raging in the "state-that-shall-not-be-named". The statement made was to the effect that the United States should cut it's losses in Iraq and elsewhere. Where the future former state is concerned the suggestion was that it should be severed from the rest of the country before the "torso" becomes infected, and that the state's residents should be left little more than a goodbye note and a gift certificate to applebees. I applaud this decision and wish to see it carried out as quickly as possible, but that is not the point here. The point is that this innocently funny statement got me thinking about just how many things come out of the state of Florida all bass-ackwards.
Number Two- So, the Schiavo case is number one (hard to believe when we all know USA is #1), number two comes in the form of a couple of other medical oddities. First, the case of Baby Karen--at least I think her name is Karen, and I don't really want to look it up right now. Now poor baby Karen was born without a brain; I know that is unpleasant to think about, but it happens more often than you might want to consider (about one in 10,000 babies in the U.S. are born anacephalic), so we're going to think about it now. Even more unpleasant is the thought of a bunch of dead babies piling up everywhere. That is why it is baffling that the Floridian judicial system would rather have two dead babies than one. You see, the parents of this young baby wanted to donate her usable organs so that other babies might live, because Karen herself would not live more than a week or so. Turns out that is VERY illegal under current Florida law. They would rather ALL of the babies die, rather than only the baby that had no chance of survival anyway.
The second instance was one of a Dentist who was giving his patients the AIDS virus. Apparently he was informed by the Florida board of health that it was perfectly alright for him to continue practicing medicine, and that there was no need for him to inform his patients that he was HIV positive. We all understand that accidents happen, but this is just gross misconduct all around. I'm starting to think that there is something in the water--besides the thousands of pounds of farming chemicals dumped into the Everglades--down there...
Number Three- This one is more political. Actually, this consists of two examples. One is the botched election in 2000. There are rampant accusations of voter fraud in the state of Florida surrounding November of that year, including anyone with a name that even matched that of a convicted felon not being able to vote because they had been removed from the voter rolls. The theory being that most people in prison were non-white. Now these, of course, are simply accusations. They may not be true, and they may not even be founded, but the fact is that something was so screwed up in that state that the door was left open to such accusations, so something isn't being done right.
The second item for number three is that of NASA (which stands for the National aeronautic Something Aruther). They have somehow found a way to reverse Newton's idea that "what goes up, must come down". I suppose they haven't exactly reversed it, as much as they have bent it a little by altering the number of pieces it comes down in. This is kind of cruel, and not really funny, just a fact, and something else that should be fixed before the whole state wins the "Darwin Award".
Number Four- Disney World. It's kind of sad when a company that blatantly alters history, preys on young children, holds cartoons hostage, and employs land purchasing and political tactics that are sketchy at best is the best thing your state has going for it. Actually, it is a toss up between Disney and the whole "Margaritaville" thing for the title of best thing in Florida, but that's still not saying much. I will say this, Disney World is the only clean part of Florida, end of story. Plus, they have a monorail...they just can't let NASA get their hands on that. (For a more in depth look at Disney read Carl Hiaasen's Team Rodent.)
I think that is about all for now. It will at least give some people some stuff to think about for a little while. As usual, comments are welcome. And hey, look on the bright side, this isn't nearly as depressing on a personal level as all that stuff about the ladies. I shouldn't worry, it'll happen when it happens, right?
-A.R. Leith
p.s.- Hey, wasn't Ted Bundy down in Florida too? That's fucking it, get me a scissors and something to lance that thing with. I'll get rid of that boil myself.
Quote: "I'll call you on your shit if you please call me on mine."- Propagandhi
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
That Thing I Forgot...Before
Yeah, I was busy telling all ya'll about what I think about the ladies and it totally made me forget the reason I signed on to dis here ting earlier today:
I was filling my auto with gasoline this afternoon and there was one of those new Chevy Aveo's sitting there in the parking area of my local filling station. I know, not to exciting on it's own, right? But this motherfucker was sitting on DuBs. Like someone spent more money on their wheels than the whole car is worth. It was funny. I got so excited I almost needed a hanky.
-A.R. Leith
I was filling my auto with gasoline this afternoon and there was one of those new Chevy Aveo's sitting there in the parking area of my local filling station. I know, not to exciting on it's own, right? But this motherfucker was sitting on DuBs. Like someone spent more money on their wheels than the whole car is worth. It was funny. I got so excited I almost needed a hanky.
-A.R. Leith
Qualifications and random thoughts.
Okay, it occurs to me that simply listing the things that I find desirable in a woman are not really enough. For one thing, there is a good possibility that what I view as fulfilling those qualifications are not necessarily the same as what others might think qualify. So here's a more in depth look at why I'm nearly always single:
Funny- There are a lot of funny people out in the world. However, there is such a variety of funny that it boggles the mind. The kind of funny that I enjoy has to do with A: a woman who "laughs at my dumb jokes when no one does". B: a woman who makes me laugh. There are a lot of people out there who laugh at things that I say...mostly nervous laughter, because they don't know how else to react to some of the things that come out of my mouth, but laughter none the less. But rare is the woman who makes me laugh. I find (and this may not be true, it's just what I think) that many women are too caught up worrying to be able to laugh and see the humor in life. Anybody can laugh at other people--the key to a grrrreat sense of humor is to be able to laugh at the world and, more importantly, at themselves. The perfect test, as it turns out, is if a lady says something mean to you simply respond by saying, "Whatever, you're fat." A gal with a truly great sense of humor will realize that you are joking and laugh. Everybody has flaws, and being able to laugh at our own is the best thing ever. (p.s.- don't ever try this with a girl who actually is fat or you might end up as one half of an ugly murder-suicide...and nobody wants that.)
Intelligent- This one kind of explains itself, so I will only ad that getting good grades in school is only part of it. One must be objective, but remain passionate. Meaning, that you have to be able to understand both sides of an argument before you can pick one. Arguing or holding beliefs based strictly on passion OR objectivity is a dangerous and shortsighted thing. Someone who can do both is a diamond in the rough. Also, in correlation to the above, a girl must be unafraid to tell me when something is un-funny, or stupid. Don't just laugh because something has been said that is odd. If it's not really funny, speak up.
Stylish- Be able to dress for any occasion. If a woman knows what is proper attire for any occasion and has the wardrobe to back it up, that's perfect. That's all there really is to it. Otherwise if you are confident and fun you can pull pretty much anything off. Girls are good like that.
Crass- This goes with the bit about having a good sense of humor. Stupid (silly stupid, not ignorant stupid) things are funny too--don't act like you're too mature to laugh at something random. Acting too good for everything makes people come off as stuck up, and no fun at all. And who wants to hang out with people who are no fun...THAT'S RIGHT, other people who are no fun. Try and keep yourselves out of this group. The list of stupid things that are funny includes, bodily fluids, farts, boobs, butts, people falling down, head injuries (limited mostly to self-inflicted wounds), people who take themselves too seriously, etc. Stay away from these things, but feel free to point and laugh from a distance.
Cute- This is pretty much up to me, except to say that cute is way better than hott. Hott girls are usually too much work and not enough fun to be around, while cute girls are the kind of people who you can hang out with all day and never get tired of. That's just science.
So that's the rundown on the roadmap to my heart. Hopefully somebody worthwhile will find it. But I'm not holding my breath or anything. I do believe in love, I just don't think it is as easy as some people let it be...and that's why there are so many divorces these days.
Okay, I had some random stuff I was going to talk about, but I cannot remember what it is. But that's life, right. I'm getting old. We're all dying. More later.
-A.R. Leith
Quote: "I swear I more than half believe it when I say 'somewhere love and justice shine.'" -the weakerthans
Funny- There are a lot of funny people out in the world. However, there is such a variety of funny that it boggles the mind. The kind of funny that I enjoy has to do with A: a woman who "laughs at my dumb jokes when no one does". B: a woman who makes me laugh. There are a lot of people out there who laugh at things that I say...mostly nervous laughter, because they don't know how else to react to some of the things that come out of my mouth, but laughter none the less. But rare is the woman who makes me laugh. I find (and this may not be true, it's just what I think) that many women are too caught up worrying to be able to laugh and see the humor in life. Anybody can laugh at other people--the key to a grrrreat sense of humor is to be able to laugh at the world and, more importantly, at themselves. The perfect test, as it turns out, is if a lady says something mean to you simply respond by saying, "Whatever, you're fat." A gal with a truly great sense of humor will realize that you are joking and laugh. Everybody has flaws, and being able to laugh at our own is the best thing ever. (p.s.- don't ever try this with a girl who actually is fat or you might end up as one half of an ugly murder-suicide...and nobody wants that.)
Intelligent- This one kind of explains itself, so I will only ad that getting good grades in school is only part of it. One must be objective, but remain passionate. Meaning, that you have to be able to understand both sides of an argument before you can pick one. Arguing or holding beliefs based strictly on passion OR objectivity is a dangerous and shortsighted thing. Someone who can do both is a diamond in the rough. Also, in correlation to the above, a girl must be unafraid to tell me when something is un-funny, or stupid. Don't just laugh because something has been said that is odd. If it's not really funny, speak up.
Stylish- Be able to dress for any occasion. If a woman knows what is proper attire for any occasion and has the wardrobe to back it up, that's perfect. That's all there really is to it. Otherwise if you are confident and fun you can pull pretty much anything off. Girls are good like that.
Crass- This goes with the bit about having a good sense of humor. Stupid (silly stupid, not ignorant stupid) things are funny too--don't act like you're too mature to laugh at something random. Acting too good for everything makes people come off as stuck up, and no fun at all. And who wants to hang out with people who are no fun...THAT'S RIGHT, other people who are no fun. Try and keep yourselves out of this group. The list of stupid things that are funny includes, bodily fluids, farts, boobs, butts, people falling down, head injuries (limited mostly to self-inflicted wounds), people who take themselves too seriously, etc. Stay away from these things, but feel free to point and laugh from a distance.
Cute- This is pretty much up to me, except to say that cute is way better than hott. Hott girls are usually too much work and not enough fun to be around, while cute girls are the kind of people who you can hang out with all day and never get tired of. That's just science.
So that's the rundown on the roadmap to my heart. Hopefully somebody worthwhile will find it. But I'm not holding my breath or anything. I do believe in love, I just don't think it is as easy as some people let it be...and that's why there are so many divorces these days.
Okay, I had some random stuff I was going to talk about, but I cannot remember what it is. But that's life, right. I'm getting old. We're all dying. More later.
-A.R. Leith
Quote: "I swear I more than half believe it when I say 'somewhere love and justice shine.'" -the weakerthans
Monday, March 28, 2005
Giving up on trying...
...to blow people's minds.
See, did that statement "blow your mind"? Of course, it didn't.
Today I was getting ready for my first class, and I saw a young man with--with an overly tall beanie on, no less--preparing a powerpoint presentation on a lab computer. It was weird; mostly because it was as if I could actually read his mind. I looked at him, and then at the screen, and automatically the thought that popped into my mind was the voice of a hippie/stoner saying, "Man, this is totally going to BLOW THEIR MINDS!" He also had headphones, a dull stare, and a pen hanging out of his mouth in the manner of a cigarette...but those are all neither here nor there. The point is that it got me to thinking about people having their minds blown, and why it just isn't happening anymore:
I am pretty sure that it is a scientific fact that people stopped having their minds blown sometime in the late sixties/early seventies. There may have been a few holdover flower children who had blowings of the mind on into the early nineties, but that is because their drug addled brains still thought it was the sixties and were actually being amazed by things that had happened before but that they could not remember having happened. The point is that people just aren't surprised anymore. At least not in any sort of life-altering way.
Let's just say that the only people that still believe that minds may be "blown" are probably idealistic high-school or college kids who have probably just read a book (Fast Food Nation, No Logo, Walden, anything by Chomsky or Zinn, something about zen Buddhism, etc.) and are now in a position to write a report or give a presentation in which they can incorporate their new nuggets of knowledge. To these young people the world is blind, but needs only have it's eyes opened to what is really going on--and they are going to do exactly that.
Problem is, that most people are not blind. It turns out that a good many people have a good deal of knowledge, they just don't care. So when a wet-behind-the-ears undergrad finishes their presentation on capitalistic greed and American imperialism with a flourish that suggests that the word "voila" should probably have been used they are met with the dull stare of a crowd that intones, "Duh, but how does that effect my new station wagon and three bedroom in the suburbs." People already know that the world sucks. The world DOES suck. It would seem, then, that it is simply the hope of most people that the suckiness of the world will just stay put in countries who's names cannot be pronounced and who's locations remain a mystery, other than to say that they are "over there". The new apathy is one that assumes that the world is going to suck--no matter what. And, as long as that sucking is as far away as possible I can ignore it and everything will be okay.
I have come to terms with my apathy about the "new apathy". It is sort of an "if they don't care, why should anyone care" situation. Yeah, I understand that there are undernourished people working 80 hour weeks for a pittance in the third world, but seriously, that's their problem. Personally, I'd probably rather turn to a life of crime than work in a factory making things I cannot afford. I can't understand why other people do that. In fact, I don't think that they should do it. Sure, there should be a sense of community in the world, but how did it happen that people stopped being accountable for their own shit?
In the book Catch 22, Joseph Heller suggests that "they can do anything that we cannot stop them from doing." That is one (of many) of the catches in life that the book covers. As it applies to the global economy; of course companies are going to look out for themselves and try to maximize their profit, that's the nature of capitalism. Your job is to have the same attitude about yourself. Think of yourself as a company that must get the most profit possible for the product given. Companies will treat you like shit if you let them. However, if enough people refuse to be treated like shit the balance of power will shift, and the corporation will have to meet demands or suffer from having no work force.
I know this all sounds good in theory, and will be much harder to implement in real life, but when was anything worthwhile ever easy to attain? Everyone should watch their own ass. Of course you can help out your friends and neighbors, but try not to do so at the expense of your own health and happiness. It is up to everyone to not just "let things slide". If you do not expect the best, you will not be given the best. People who go through life super happy just have low expectations...of others, and of themselves.
This is not an essay aimed at getting people to stop trying to blow the minds of others...simply a series of ideas that might help people realize that they are responsible for their own well being before that of others. Raise your standards for the sake of a better life. A good deal of the time you will get exactly what you expect out of life, so start expecting more.
-A.R. Leith
"They're going to try and make you a martyr. They'll keep on pushing 'til you're pushing back harder."- The Dillinger Four.
See, did that statement "blow your mind"? Of course, it didn't.
Today I was getting ready for my first class, and I saw a young man with--with an overly tall beanie on, no less--preparing a powerpoint presentation on a lab computer. It was weird; mostly because it was as if I could actually read his mind. I looked at him, and then at the screen, and automatically the thought that popped into my mind was the voice of a hippie/stoner saying, "Man, this is totally going to BLOW THEIR MINDS!" He also had headphones, a dull stare, and a pen hanging out of his mouth in the manner of a cigarette...but those are all neither here nor there. The point is that it got me to thinking about people having their minds blown, and why it just isn't happening anymore:
I am pretty sure that it is a scientific fact that people stopped having their minds blown sometime in the late sixties/early seventies. There may have been a few holdover flower children who had blowings of the mind on into the early nineties, but that is because their drug addled brains still thought it was the sixties and were actually being amazed by things that had happened before but that they could not remember having happened. The point is that people just aren't surprised anymore. At least not in any sort of life-altering way.
Let's just say that the only people that still believe that minds may be "blown" are probably idealistic high-school or college kids who have probably just read a book (Fast Food Nation, No Logo, Walden, anything by Chomsky or Zinn, something about zen Buddhism, etc.) and are now in a position to write a report or give a presentation in which they can incorporate their new nuggets of knowledge. To these young people the world is blind, but needs only have it's eyes opened to what is really going on--and they are going to do exactly that.
Problem is, that most people are not blind. It turns out that a good many people have a good deal of knowledge, they just don't care. So when a wet-behind-the-ears undergrad finishes their presentation on capitalistic greed and American imperialism with a flourish that suggests that the word "voila" should probably have been used they are met with the dull stare of a crowd that intones, "Duh, but how does that effect my new station wagon and three bedroom in the suburbs." People already know that the world sucks. The world DOES suck. It would seem, then, that it is simply the hope of most people that the suckiness of the world will just stay put in countries who's names cannot be pronounced and who's locations remain a mystery, other than to say that they are "over there". The new apathy is one that assumes that the world is going to suck--no matter what. And, as long as that sucking is as far away as possible I can ignore it and everything will be okay.
I have come to terms with my apathy about the "new apathy". It is sort of an "if they don't care, why should anyone care" situation. Yeah, I understand that there are undernourished people working 80 hour weeks for a pittance in the third world, but seriously, that's their problem. Personally, I'd probably rather turn to a life of crime than work in a factory making things I cannot afford. I can't understand why other people do that. In fact, I don't think that they should do it. Sure, there should be a sense of community in the world, but how did it happen that people stopped being accountable for their own shit?
In the book Catch 22, Joseph Heller suggests that "they can do anything that we cannot stop them from doing." That is one (of many) of the catches in life that the book covers. As it applies to the global economy; of course companies are going to look out for themselves and try to maximize their profit, that's the nature of capitalism. Your job is to have the same attitude about yourself. Think of yourself as a company that must get the most profit possible for the product given. Companies will treat you like shit if you let them. However, if enough people refuse to be treated like shit the balance of power will shift, and the corporation will have to meet demands or suffer from having no work force.
I know this all sounds good in theory, and will be much harder to implement in real life, but when was anything worthwhile ever easy to attain? Everyone should watch their own ass. Of course you can help out your friends and neighbors, but try not to do so at the expense of your own health and happiness. It is up to everyone to not just "let things slide". If you do not expect the best, you will not be given the best. People who go through life super happy just have low expectations...of others, and of themselves.
This is not an essay aimed at getting people to stop trying to blow the minds of others...simply a series of ideas that might help people realize that they are responsible for their own well being before that of others. Raise your standards for the sake of a better life. A good deal of the time you will get exactly what you expect out of life, so start expecting more.
-A.R. Leith
"They're going to try and make you a martyr. They'll keep on pushing 'til you're pushing back harder."- The Dillinger Four.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Snow
Basically it was pointed out to me this morning that my job choices both revolve around the weather. Today it is snowing. If I were still at my winter job I'd probably have wood...but as it is I'm working at a golf course and am pretty much unemployed until the shit melts. So what gives with that. All it leaves me with is these afternoons where all I have to do is sit around fostering one of two thoughts...
One: Someday I might have money...either from working very, very hard, and saving it all so I can give it to somebody else later in life, or through some lottery route. Either way I generally turn on golf or baseball or something and think about architecture until I fall asleep on the couch and miss a bunch of phone calls that would invite me to do something that could be fun. It sucks, except now I have a ton of house designs built up in my head...which on second thought is about as useful as a handful of wishes. So it's not all that productive. I'll try to stop doing it. Which would be easier if I wasn't depressed and sick with mono. (Clinically I don't know if either of those statements is true, but they are my informed guess.)
Two: Similar situation, except rather than architecture it's about women. I'm going to go ahead and lay it down here. (Actually this happens all the time, walking, driving, sitting in class, open heart surgery, skydiving, anytime these thoughts about girls just pop into my head.) The point is this. There have been five women that I have known in my life that could have been THE ONE...so there are many ones. The point here is that I'm picky as hell, and cannot find the right girl for me. I have only ever dated one of these five, and it ended badly, but that's life, right? The others have not worked out for a myriad of reasons. Not least notably of which is that I often fail to talk to them and tell them how I feel about them. Yeah, it's my fault, but I fear rejection.
It also doesn't help that I spend a lot of the time listening to the emo. It makes me sad about girls and fear the worst. Right now I'm pining for number five and dunno what to do about it. I wish there were a better way to find out if someone else was interested in you. I've just read an article about it and I'm going to try to put some of those techniques to use, but who knows where that will lead. Strangely women that I find attractive are among the very few things that really scare me about life. I guess I'm just a pussy.
In the past I have mentioned the five things that I look for in a women...I thought of more today, but mostly that come later in relationships. Like gregariousness. (or even knowing what that word means...that'd be a good start.) But yeah, I'm shy and quiet--until I get to know a person or group of people, that is--and so it would be nice if I could date someone who is more outgoing than me. Subconsciously I think that is a reason I like for a girl to make her intentions known first. But that doesn't always work out. And as we all know- "Life sucks, get a fucking helmet."
Okay, back to the snow at hand. I'm over winter. This year sucked because I couldn't ski with the kids. I hate skiing by myself. In fact, I hate doing pretty much everything my myself...so I'm looking forward to summer. That's about all there is of that.
Totally off subject: I was half asleep on the couch the other day when I had this dream/vision/whatever of this girl from one of my classes just coming over and laying on top of me and we both fell asleep. Not necessarily sexual, but very nice indeed. I don't know what to make of it all. Life is weird. I'm tired of typing now, I'm going to read more. Wish me luck on everything, I'm going to need it.
-A.R. Leith
"Assign me to a nice girl, so she can ruin me...eternally."- Jawbreaker
One: Someday I might have money...either from working very, very hard, and saving it all so I can give it to somebody else later in life, or through some lottery route. Either way I generally turn on golf or baseball or something and think about architecture until I fall asleep on the couch and miss a bunch of phone calls that would invite me to do something that could be fun. It sucks, except now I have a ton of house designs built up in my head...which on second thought is about as useful as a handful of wishes. So it's not all that productive. I'll try to stop doing it. Which would be easier if I wasn't depressed and sick with mono. (Clinically I don't know if either of those statements is true, but they are my informed guess.)
Two: Similar situation, except rather than architecture it's about women. I'm going to go ahead and lay it down here. (Actually this happens all the time, walking, driving, sitting in class, open heart surgery, skydiving, anytime these thoughts about girls just pop into my head.) The point is this. There have been five women that I have known in my life that could have been THE ONE...so there are many ones. The point here is that I'm picky as hell, and cannot find the right girl for me. I have only ever dated one of these five, and it ended badly, but that's life, right? The others have not worked out for a myriad of reasons. Not least notably of which is that I often fail to talk to them and tell them how I feel about them. Yeah, it's my fault, but I fear rejection.
It also doesn't help that I spend a lot of the time listening to the emo. It makes me sad about girls and fear the worst. Right now I'm pining for number five and dunno what to do about it. I wish there were a better way to find out if someone else was interested in you. I've just read an article about it and I'm going to try to put some of those techniques to use, but who knows where that will lead. Strangely women that I find attractive are among the very few things that really scare me about life. I guess I'm just a pussy.
In the past I have mentioned the five things that I look for in a women...I thought of more today, but mostly that come later in relationships. Like gregariousness. (or even knowing what that word means...that'd be a good start.) But yeah, I'm shy and quiet--until I get to know a person or group of people, that is--and so it would be nice if I could date someone who is more outgoing than me. Subconsciously I think that is a reason I like for a girl to make her intentions known first. But that doesn't always work out. And as we all know- "Life sucks, get a fucking helmet."
Okay, back to the snow at hand. I'm over winter. This year sucked because I couldn't ski with the kids. I hate skiing by myself. In fact, I hate doing pretty much everything my myself...so I'm looking forward to summer. That's about all there is of that.
Totally off subject: I was half asleep on the couch the other day when I had this dream/vision/whatever of this girl from one of my classes just coming over and laying on top of me and we both fell asleep. Not necessarily sexual, but very nice indeed. I don't know what to make of it all. Life is weird. I'm tired of typing now, I'm going to read more. Wish me luck on everything, I'm going to need it.
-A.R. Leith
"Assign me to a nice girl, so she can ruin me...eternally."- Jawbreaker
Monday, March 21, 2005
"I went to college, and Guess what I learned...
So lately I have songs stuck in my head. Okay, I shouldn't qualify that with "lately"...I always have songs stuck in my head. The weird part is that all the songs that have been stuck in there lately are about how bad the world sucks. You know, war, pestilence, girls, plagues, parents, and the man--they're all down on us, and with no good reason...man!
So yeah, Propagandhi, the angry half of Lawrence Arms songs, the Broadways, all of it. Constantly running through my head. But here's the odd bit, I'm happier lately than before. I certainly don't get it. Not even a little bit. But I worry about the people around me...and I'm going to tell you why:Most of the time I kind of wonder if people are thinking objectively and critically around me. I know, I know there are supposed to be emotions involved in every day life. But what if I'm not emoting properly. "What if this crazy world thinks I'm the one who's crazy...I'm not crazy, just frustrated." I find myself, more often than not, making decisions about life from a more objective and less emotional standpoint. For example, when it comes to love and dating I tend to think about it in terms of: How will this person look in 20 years? What would our kids look like? And most importantly- Can I stand to hang out with this person for the rest of my life? While it seems to me that others are thinking about how "hott" said person is, and how badly they "want" them. I'm worried about being able to provide for another person, or several people. Maybe my heart is--like the grinch--several sizes too small.
I have recently established five categories that I think should be fulfilled on some level by a person that I would like to date. She should be 1. Funny, 2. Stylish, 3. Crass, 4. Intelligent, and 5. viewed by me as being cute. (By the by, being cute is way better than being hott. It's not my rule, look it up. The difference being that someone who is cute is not generally overly concerned with their looks, where a person who is hott generally only has that going for them. How rare is it that you find an out of hand "hott" girl that actually has something to say? It just doesn't happen. The end result is that, while the prospect of being with such a person is initially tantalizing, in the end they become boring and un-fun. And you have to deal with that, because you were hung up on looks, so there. I hope you have kids together.)
These five simple ideas are weird, no? Not weird in and of themselves, but weird in that I have met only a handful of women in my life--short though it has been, thus far--that have met all five of the categories. It gets a lad to thinking...Maybe the problem is with me? Am I too hard to please? Too picky? Is it irresponsible of me to want to be with someone who makes me laugh instead of just laughing at things I say?
These are the ponderences that have ruled my mind lately. Oh, that and I've started to re-read the first several "Get Your War On" cartoon strips and can't help but wonder how anyone can think that genocide is okay, even if it is in the name of "freedom". First of all, people should be on their own to better their situation. We, as a nation, are not fucking babysitters. It's like if your dad beats up the bully for you at school...everyone just makes more fun of you, and things are worse than before. So that sucks even worse. True revolution comes from within. Things won't get better for anyone unless they change it for themselves. Meanwhile I'm praying (read "hoping" because what is the point of praying? If god is omnipresent he/she/it will already know what I want.) that Iraq becomes a Theocracy and the Arab community goes on hating us for being intrusive dicks until they kill enough white people that Americans figure out that maybe they don't want us there. Right now we're pretty much sticking our hand into a bee hive to steal the honey and wondering why we keep getting stung. Rats with a feeder bar have a better learning curve than most Americans right now.
Okay, that's it. I've vented it. Although I still get sad every time I think about being silenced when I try to talk politics with my family. Blah. It's out there. Think about it. Make your own thoughts on it. Whoop (is it there?)
-A.R. Leith
So yeah, Propagandhi, the angry half of Lawrence Arms songs, the Broadways, all of it. Constantly running through my head. But here's the odd bit, I'm happier lately than before. I certainly don't get it. Not even a little bit. But I worry about the people around me...and I'm going to tell you why:Most of the time I kind of wonder if people are thinking objectively and critically around me. I know, I know there are supposed to be emotions involved in every day life. But what if I'm not emoting properly. "What if this crazy world thinks I'm the one who's crazy...I'm not crazy, just frustrated." I find myself, more often than not, making decisions about life from a more objective and less emotional standpoint. For example, when it comes to love and dating I tend to think about it in terms of: How will this person look in 20 years? What would our kids look like? And most importantly- Can I stand to hang out with this person for the rest of my life? While it seems to me that others are thinking about how "hott" said person is, and how badly they "want" them. I'm worried about being able to provide for another person, or several people. Maybe my heart is--like the grinch--several sizes too small.
I have recently established five categories that I think should be fulfilled on some level by a person that I would like to date. She should be 1. Funny, 2. Stylish, 3. Crass, 4. Intelligent, and 5. viewed by me as being cute. (By the by, being cute is way better than being hott. It's not my rule, look it up. The difference being that someone who is cute is not generally overly concerned with their looks, where a person who is hott generally only has that going for them. How rare is it that you find an out of hand "hott" girl that actually has something to say? It just doesn't happen. The end result is that, while the prospect of being with such a person is initially tantalizing, in the end they become boring and un-fun. And you have to deal with that, because you were hung up on looks, so there. I hope you have kids together.)
These five simple ideas are weird, no? Not weird in and of themselves, but weird in that I have met only a handful of women in my life--short though it has been, thus far--that have met all five of the categories. It gets a lad to thinking...Maybe the problem is with me? Am I too hard to please? Too picky? Is it irresponsible of me to want to be with someone who makes me laugh instead of just laughing at things I say?
These are the ponderences that have ruled my mind lately. Oh, that and I've started to re-read the first several "Get Your War On" cartoon strips and can't help but wonder how anyone can think that genocide is okay, even if it is in the name of "freedom". First of all, people should be on their own to better their situation. We, as a nation, are not fucking babysitters. It's like if your dad beats up the bully for you at school...everyone just makes more fun of you, and things are worse than before. So that sucks even worse. True revolution comes from within. Things won't get better for anyone unless they change it for themselves. Meanwhile I'm praying (read "hoping" because what is the point of praying? If god is omnipresent he/she/it will already know what I want.) that Iraq becomes a Theocracy and the Arab community goes on hating us for being intrusive dicks until they kill enough white people that Americans figure out that maybe they don't want us there. Right now we're pretty much sticking our hand into a bee hive to steal the honey and wondering why we keep getting stung. Rats with a feeder bar have a better learning curve than most Americans right now.
Okay, that's it. I've vented it. Although I still get sad every time I think about being silenced when I try to talk politics with my family. Blah. It's out there. Think about it. Make your own thoughts on it. Whoop (is it there?)
-A.R. Leith
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Professional Mathletes
Okay, since there really aren't such things as pro mathletes (are there?), I cannot imagine why I called this that. So let's talk about something much more upsetting...
Professional Sports- I don't like it, and I'm going to tell you why:
First of all, I see a lot of time wasted by people following their "team". I'm going to let alone the obvious problem of people who refer to the teams in the plural inclusive. Like the kind of person would say "I'm glad WE got rid of Sosa, because he struck out too much." etc. That problem speaks for itself as having to do with those who watch, rather than do. No no, my more recent anger stems from the massive amount of money pro sports garners and then keeps all to itself.
So many athletes out there say they play for the love of the game, but do not let their paychecks reflect that. For example, the recent cancellation of the NHL season because the owners and players cannot come to a reasonable agreement on how many gazillion dollars they are each allowed to make in a season is so fucking weak it makes me sick. And so, for the betterment of sports...nay, all of society, I will here propose several changes that will bring back the purity and pride to professional sports and athletes.
1. None of this "trading" bullshit. An athlete who desires to play a sport professionally must play for the team that is located nearest the city he/she has spent the MAJORITY of their life living in. This will bring back some civic and regional pride in the athletes who represent us, and will eliminate a bunch of transient millionaires who go wherever they can get paid the most.
2. Oh yeah, getting paid. There will be an absolute salary cap on how much an athlete can make from playing games for a living...We're talking a maximum of like $200,000 a year. (This goes for coaches and managers too...as for owners, they won't exist. The team will belong to the city and they can fucking elect front office officials who can make no more than 200k a year. So there.) Ticket prices will remain ridiculously high, and any excess revenue will go into maintaining/refurbishing facilities and to the local schools or other worthy endeavors. This will keep people from getting greedy, and only people who really love the sports will get involved.
3. College athletic scholarships: Okay, I really have no problem with this, because it addresses the above problems. Someone who loves the games getting paid to do it, but getting paid with an education...so that works. Unless, of course, the athletes are getting special treatment in their studies and end up like the UWV athletes I saw on TV last night after their "big win" who weren't really winners at all because they couldn't put two coherent thoughts together. How can you get to be a senior in college and not be well spoken? The world and your educational institution have failed us both...I'm pissed about it, why aren't you? But yeah, otherwise teach the kids for free if they can play ball; that is more of a win win situation.
4. Any city that can field a team gets to play, end of story. We're going back to Little League on this one. But if you can come up with a full roster at the beginning of the season then you should be allowed to play. If you suck then you have incentive to get better. If your city rocks, then keep on keeping on...there will be nice trophies and ceremonies (maybe even a parade!) and the end of every season for your players. Hoorah!
5. Helmets are for pussies. At most pro athletes should be allowed to wear those little leather jobbies with no face mask that footballers used to sport. If you're not skilled enough not to get hit in the head then there is somebody in your home town who might be. Plus, if it turns out you can't dodge that curve ball you get all the goddamn pudding you can handle...forever. If you have questions about this, just look at boxers. They don't wear helmets and pretty much all they do is get hit in the head...and to them cartoons are still funny, so they pretty much rule.
6. Any activity where human power is not the primary mode of motivation is not a sport, PERIOD. NASCAR drivers are not "athletes" for the same reason I don't get a trophy for hopping in the Crown Vic and going to the corner store for milk faster than my neighbor. The car is doing all the work. For the same reasons cart golf is not a sport, while ballroom dancing probably is.
Okay, I think that's all for now. Sorry it's been so long between entries. That is, if you care at all. Don't be afraid to comment if you have something to say, or any questions. I like comments. Okay, I'm done. I need to go to bed. Got a big day tomorrow.
-A.R. Leith
Rando Quote of the day: "This is your life. It doesn't get any better than this. This is your life...and it's ending one minute at a time." -Chuck P.
Professional Sports- I don't like it, and I'm going to tell you why:
First of all, I see a lot of time wasted by people following their "team". I'm going to let alone the obvious problem of people who refer to the teams in the plural inclusive. Like the kind of person would say "I'm glad WE got rid of Sosa, because he struck out too much." etc. That problem speaks for itself as having to do with those who watch, rather than do. No no, my more recent anger stems from the massive amount of money pro sports garners and then keeps all to itself.
So many athletes out there say they play for the love of the game, but do not let their paychecks reflect that. For example, the recent cancellation of the NHL season because the owners and players cannot come to a reasonable agreement on how many gazillion dollars they are each allowed to make in a season is so fucking weak it makes me sick. And so, for the betterment of sports...nay, all of society, I will here propose several changes that will bring back the purity and pride to professional sports and athletes.
1. None of this "trading" bullshit. An athlete who desires to play a sport professionally must play for the team that is located nearest the city he/she has spent the MAJORITY of their life living in. This will bring back some civic and regional pride in the athletes who represent us, and will eliminate a bunch of transient millionaires who go wherever they can get paid the most.
2. Oh yeah, getting paid. There will be an absolute salary cap on how much an athlete can make from playing games for a living...We're talking a maximum of like $200,000 a year. (This goes for coaches and managers too...as for owners, they won't exist. The team will belong to the city and they can fucking elect front office officials who can make no more than 200k a year. So there.) Ticket prices will remain ridiculously high, and any excess revenue will go into maintaining/refurbishing facilities and to the local schools or other worthy endeavors. This will keep people from getting greedy, and only people who really love the sports will get involved.
3. College athletic scholarships: Okay, I really have no problem with this, because it addresses the above problems. Someone who loves the games getting paid to do it, but getting paid with an education...so that works. Unless, of course, the athletes are getting special treatment in their studies and end up like the UWV athletes I saw on TV last night after their "big win" who weren't really winners at all because they couldn't put two coherent thoughts together. How can you get to be a senior in college and not be well spoken? The world and your educational institution have failed us both...I'm pissed about it, why aren't you? But yeah, otherwise teach the kids for free if they can play ball; that is more of a win win situation.
4. Any city that can field a team gets to play, end of story. We're going back to Little League on this one. But if you can come up with a full roster at the beginning of the season then you should be allowed to play. If you suck then you have incentive to get better. If your city rocks, then keep on keeping on...there will be nice trophies and ceremonies (maybe even a parade!) and the end of every season for your players. Hoorah!
5. Helmets are for pussies. At most pro athletes should be allowed to wear those little leather jobbies with no face mask that footballers used to sport. If you're not skilled enough not to get hit in the head then there is somebody in your home town who might be. Plus, if it turns out you can't dodge that curve ball you get all the goddamn pudding you can handle...forever. If you have questions about this, just look at boxers. They don't wear helmets and pretty much all they do is get hit in the head...and to them cartoons are still funny, so they pretty much rule.
6. Any activity where human power is not the primary mode of motivation is not a sport, PERIOD. NASCAR drivers are not "athletes" for the same reason I don't get a trophy for hopping in the Crown Vic and going to the corner store for milk faster than my neighbor. The car is doing all the work. For the same reasons cart golf is not a sport, while ballroom dancing probably is.
Okay, I think that's all for now. Sorry it's been so long between entries. That is, if you care at all. Don't be afraid to comment if you have something to say, or any questions. I like comments. Okay, I'm done. I need to go to bed. Got a big day tomorrow.
-A.R. Leith
Rando Quote of the day: "This is your life. It doesn't get any better than this. This is your life...and it's ending one minute at a time." -Chuck P.
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