Laziness vs. Efficiency

That Sound You Hear? » If I Were A Bird by Ryan Shupe & The RubberBand
Current Hit Count On This Blog » 675
Big News » And the true identity of "Deep Throat" is...

Now, today's story...

All right, so here's a thing. A friend of mine wrote a post the other day in her blog bemoaning a slide by Americans as a whole into a stage of helplessness. I happen to disagree.

She cites an ever-increasing number of people's tendency toward paying others to do things they are perfectly capable of doing themselves as a prime reason for such an opinion. But last year I took a business management class that made me see that people aren't becoming more lazy, they're becoming more efficient.

I'll defend that position now since you probably think it's insane. Consider everything I'm talking about on the basis of quality of life. In other words, living for personal enjoyment. Nobody knows the "secret of life" so that aside, we may as well just live to be happy otherwise life really isn't worth anything. That's my view, anyhow.

You have only so many hours in a day. Twenty-four to be exact. Your days are also limited, however no one really knows just how many they've got. Leading me to this question: If your hours are numbered, why would you waste a single one on doing something you don't like?

Think of a good reason. I bet you can't. For instance, why do you think there are so many lawn services around here? Most people do not find pleasure in mowing the grass. I sure don't. So we weigh the costs. Do you spend your invaluable time doing something you dislike, or do you fork over a little cash to alleviate the disliked chore? Which weighs more? Your disdain for grass-cutting or the dollar signs it requires to get someone else to do it for you?

The same goes for the bread argument. Personally, when I'm hungry, I want a sandwich. I don't want to stand there and have to slice the bread. For one thing, it should be clear that we're talking about fresh-baked bread here, straight from behind the Publix counter. Most kinds of pre-packaged bread come pre-sliced. That's just how they play the game.

But for those who enjoy the fresh bread, this Bud's for you. Perhaps you like slices each of the same width. I know I like a sandwich where the top is as thick as the bottom. So for me, it's worth it to spend the extra dough (no pun intended) to have a professional do the job for me with specialized tools. I am by no means a helpless soul. I simply like my bread cut a certain way, and where there is someone being paid to do this for me, it outweighs the annoyance of uneven bread.

Now don't get the wrong idea, I'm not a bread freak. I buy pre-packaged store brand off the shelf like most everyone else. But the point I'm making is that people who may not have the time or inclination to do certain monotonous chores can pay other people who are willing to do them.

If you think that's a stupid argument, then you're a communist. Capitalism runs best with busy (and lazy) people at the helm. Your busy schedule (or laziness) makes you a perfect addition to the American economy. With that, I'll step off of my soap box and make an addition to the title of Cortney's post title: Excuse Me America, Can You Wipe My Ass (For A Fee)?

Fake Stories: I've noticed that the hit count on my fiction blog is exceedingly lower than on this one. Would it kill you to click here and enjoy yourself a little? It's good reading. Maybe I'll make it into a TV series one day.

Yes, it's Monopoly. It's the British version, in fact. I bought it in London on my trip five years ago. And since then I play it all the time with whoever is interested. It's a good game, don't knock it. 

Back to pictures from the United Kingdom. This is on top of the Yorkminster Abbey in York. 

Farewells

That Sound You Hear? » The Talkin' Song Repair Blues by Alan Jackson
Days Until Hurricane Season » 4 (the number of major hurricanes that whacked us last year)
Big News » Dumbo murder suspect who climbed on top of a crane in Atlanta to evade police finally came down after a 56-hour standoff. Yeah, they stun-gunned the dude while he was reaching for a glass of water. This just goes to show that no criminal has ever been better off for trying to wet his whistle.

Now, today's story...

This has really been a good year for season finales. I have been shocked by those of all the shows that I watch regularly. By the way, if you haven't already picked up on it, this is going to be a TV post. If you find yourself nodding off, escape now.

The West Wing's finale back in April was a fitting end to a season about change in an administration that was on its way out and a Presidential campaign following a two-term president. It left you rooting for both the Democratic and Republican candidates and wondering whether C.J. will be spending Season 7 in prison for leaking secret information about a Defense Department space shuttle to the press.

24 ended with the words "Jack Bauer is dead." For four years, Jack has been an unstoppable force inside the Counter-Terrorist Unit in Los Angeles. In the season finale, extenuating circumstances required Tony and Michelle to help Jack fake his death. For all intents and purposes, Jack Bauer is now dead. These writers can do anything.

In NCIS's final episode of Season 2, Gibbs and his team were being hunted by a guy who may or may not be a terrorist. In the final showdown, Kate (a former Secret Service agent) jumps in front of a bullet to save her boss. It hits her vest and she saves the day. But as soon as she's helped up, another bullet goes straight through her forehead. I guess Sasha Alexander really wanted out.

I'm obligated to mention the finale of Lost in which it's possible more questions were raised than were answered. And while some people find that troubling, I find it comforting to know that this writing crew does get to answering questions eventually. The crazy French woman knew "the others" were coming for a boy, but she (and everyone else) thought it was Claire's newborn, since after all they had come for hers 16 years before. Turns out, they wanted Walt, a 10-year-old who seems to have the power to "make things happen." Not only that, but the hatch is open now and it stretches down a lot farther than the broken ladder does.

The Alias finale had arguably the biggest (and best) cliffhanger of all time. For four years, Sydney Bristow and Michael Vaughn have danced around each other. In the finale, Vaughn finally pops the question. And on the couple's drive to Santa Barbara (a long-planned vacation spot) Vaughn informs Syd that his name isn't really Vaughn at all. And just as he prepares to tell Syd who he is, BAM! They're side-swiped and you wonder if they'll even survive. Alias is truly the perfect name for that show. Nobody is who you think they are.

In other good, but less-important finales, CSI: Miami's Horatio Caine learns that his brother isn't really dead but has been working a very secret drug/terrorist raid. On The O.C., Marissa shot Ryan's brother in the back while the siblings were engaged in fisticuffs. She may or may not be spending the summer in lock up.

Joey ended with the title character caught between two loves. Scrubs finished with Elliot moving to a new hospital. And the finale of House saw the sarcastic doc's ex-girlfriend taking a semi-permanent job at his hospital.

Extreme Makeover: The other day Brett outed himself by revealing that the two-story shack I posted a picture of the other day (in North Carolina) is actually his place of residence. This revelation leads me to think that we all need to chip in and help him buy new siding. Brett, who actually lives in Florida, I'm sure would be thrilled at the prospect of having new wooden paneling on the sides of his wooden shack in western North Carolina. So just post your credit card numbers in the comments section and don't worry about noting an amount, I'll take what I deem necessary. Have a great day.

(Disclaimer for Stupid People: DO NOT POST YOUR CREDIT CARD NUMBER ON A WEB SITE! Thank you.)

I took this about six months ago on New Year's Eve. But I just found it today that's why I'm posting it. I thought it looked pretty cool. I don't care what you think. 

That's a cute little place, isn't it? It can be found along Old Rosman Highway in beautiful western North Carolina. I think people have sorta... ignored it. 

Don't Just Stand There (Get Out Of My Way!)

That Sound You Hear? » All Kinds Of Time by Fountains Of Wayne
Days Until My 21st Birthday » 10
Big News » Liz seems to think that the flagship racer of DEI firing his crew chief is big news. Personally, I think the honor goes to the Floridian murderer who somehow managed to get himself on top of a construction crane in Atlanta. The man won't come down.

Now, today's story...

Last night was Jason's graduation. At the very same time as the season finale of Lost. Seriously, if you'd asked me whether I would go to the graduation or watch Lost, I'd have needed a minute. And I did.

So, the graduation ceremony. I've been in that movie before. It's usually pretty dull and this one was no different. Except to say this. People are, generally speaking, stupid. Consider this question. When you're in a crowded place, and you see someone in a wheelchair trying to be wheeled out of said crowd, what do you do?

Do you try to run out of in front of it and beat it like you're in a race with a cripple? Do you just stand their and expect this person to go around you? Or do you act like a decent, civil creature and move your lousy self?

Hopefully you identified more with the latter. But I gotta say that more than a few dudbrains seemed to associate with the first two. My grandma's just getting passed a bout with lung cancer. (Not the one I went to North Carolina with.) No small task. But while she's not confined a bed, walking or standing for an extended period is a little taxing.

We got her a wheelchair to make attending Jason's graduation a little easier. And I guess somewhere along the way I was volunteered to push her. Have you ever tried to say no to someone in a wheelchair asking you to push them? You can't do it.

Getting into the Sun Dome wasn't that hard, but you still want to avoid people's ankles in these situations. And of course there's my grandma grabbing everybody's hind end as we go by. She says she was just saying "excuse me" but I think she had ulterior motives.

I can't knock it too much because handicappers get great seats. We sat right on the corner behind the stage. Excellent for snapping some quick photos, yes? Getting out of the building was a tricky part. The original plan was to hit Entry 4 with the other five million people in attendance to meet up with the new graduates. This isn't so easy with a wheelchair.

Here's the problem. Not only is the population density in this area exponentially higher now than in any other part of the arena, but they are all standing still. Oh yes, and there's a little thing about an extremely steep incline. I don't know why, but that's how they built the place.

This is tricky because now I have to grip the wheelchair tightly enough so that it doesn't go flying down the hill taking out everyone in its path. And don't forget the rider. I had to make sure she wasn't gonna fall out. It was a steep hill. So I kinda did it sideways so she wasn't really ever facing straight down the hill. Shut up, it's harder than it sounds.

For much of this trip I was trying to follow my dad to the section of the mob where my family was gathering, easily found by spotting Anthony, whose head sticks way up out of the crowd. I don't think I need to tell you he plays basketball. Anyhow, following him became too much of a imposition for both me and my grandma so we opted for the parking lot, which was no easier.

"Excuse me, excuse me," said I. "Get the hell out of my way!" People, as I said before, are stupid. And they did the things I mentioned before along with other equally confounded things. There were some decent folk but they were few and far between.

We finally got back to the car and that was that. So with a nod to Nancy Reagan's pearl of wisdom, I think next time I'll just say no.

Rings All Around: Normally, I don't care. But lately it seems like everybody is getting married. Kenny and the one Liz (and many others, I'm sure) has dubbed Zellwitcher. Jennifleck (because some people think that's funny and I'm not one of them). Now it seems Garth Brooks is getting married again, this time to Trisha Yearwood. This shortly after announcing he'd be coming out of retirement (again) in 2014. Ooh, start the clock now. I'm so excited I could pee in a cowboy hat.

It's called a flower. Nothing new. More stories coming this week. Whatever you do, don't miss the Lost finale tomorrow. It's gonna be big. 

Around The Table

That Sound You Hear? » Albuquerque by Sons of the Desert
Current MP3 Count » 4,945
Big News » According to the AP, a bunch of convicted rapists have been getting forkfuls of Viagra for free from Medicaid. If ever there was a population in need of such a drug. Speaking of Viagra, Liz informs me that Mark Martin won the big race that doesn't count yesterday.

Now, today's story...

Back in the late '70s, my grandparents and their friends, most of whom they knew through my grandfather's job with Florida Power & Light, started taking vacations up in the mountains of North Carolina. They'd go camping, often for weeks at a time, especially during the summer when it got hot in Florida.

They all would schedule their time off together so they could take these trips. By the early '90s they were all retired. Just prior to that they had all started buying property up in the mountains near their favorite campsite, in an area called Sapphire.

My grandparents best friends have probably always been Barbara and Dean Jackman. My grandpa worked with Dean for decades at the plant. And up in North Carolina, they bought property with in walking distance of each other.

But Dean and Barbara wanted to make that property a place to live each summer. They didn't like carrying the fifth wheel up all the time. It was too much work and as Barbara will be the first to admit, they aren't young people anymore.

In the late 90s, Dean laid out the plans for a two-story, 24-foot cabin that would go on the property and hired contractors to start building it. When it was finished, it was the coolest little place around. Downstairs was a full kitchen, bathroom and living room with a big table Dean had built right in the middle. Upstairs were 3 beds, a queen and two twins.

In 2001, Dean died. Now Barbara lives there by herself but her kids and grandkids come up to visit every year. Aside from that, she has friends over to play cards or dominoes nearly every night. Last year when Jennifer and I went up, we were over there every night.

Two weeks ago when I was up there with my grandparents, same thing. Cards every night. Which brings me to what my story is really about today.

On the second night, we'd finished a hand of Phase 10 when my grandma asked whose turn it was to deal. Well I hadn't been paying attention so I just said something smartass like "it just goes in circles around the table."

Well it didn't hit me at first, but the three of them (Barbara and my grandparents) were gonna have a little fun with me for the rest of the week just for saying that. Right away Barbara's all, "we're old people Chris, we don't remember who's turn it is so just saying it goes around the table doesn't really help us."

I laughed because, yes, I understood that it was funny. What I didn't realize is how funny they thought it was. Not only did they continue teasing me for the rest of the week, but Barbara told her friend Carol (who I've met several times). Carol was at Wal-Mart and she bought a pack of dealer chips just for me.

They're the kind you pass around the table (though I suppose the trick for "old people" is to remember to pass it on) that way I'll never forget whose turn it is to deal. At least that's what she told me.

So as long as I continue to visit North Carolina and hang out with that group, I'm never going to forget that silly line. Great.

Coming Soon: My latest short film is coming out this week. I'll have more details on "Stax" this week. You'll even be able to watch it for yourself. It's gonna crack you up. And if it doesn't, then you don't have a soul.

I took a new picture of the cabin last week. The porch was added in the fall along with the new screen door. Don't you love it? 

Water Water Everywhere!

That Sound You Hear? » Mississippi Girl by Faith Hill
Days Until My 21st Birthday » 16
Big News » President Bush condemned cloning experimentation and research in Korea. Yeah, he's stupid, but let's all just thank God he's not going the other way on this. Worse than Dubya being stupid would be Dubya wanting to clone himself. Seems we dodged a bullet there.

Now, today's story...

It occurs to me I've been back from the mountains for coming up on a week now and I still have yet to share with you any stories from the trip. And need I say? There were many.

I'll start at the beginning. We absolutely flew up I-75 arriving at the cabin almost two hours before we thought we would. And this is a Monday afternoon, folks. I'm not saying traffic should've been heavy, but we made the 1200-mile trek in 11 hours.

Once at the cabin, typical procedure involves turning on the telephone, electric and water. Well the first two went off without a hitch. But the latter we had a little trouble with. Though no one noticed at first.

Yes, indeed, it took us all a moment to realize that suddenly the cabin floor around the toilet, on one side, and the shower, on the other, was getting a bit soggy. This is not what you're hoping for when hoping for a shower after 11 hours pent up in a truck (to be fair, though, it was a roomy Ford F-350).

So as deductive reasoning would have you perceive, there were a couple of leaks going on in that little cabin. And we were bound to get to the bottom of it. The first step was to stop the uncontrollable liquid from continuing to flow into the building. Well pump off. Check.

Next: find the source. This proved to be a little more tricky. Luckily, we built what my grandfather has cleverly dubbed a "take-apart" cabin. In other words, the wall was gonna have to come off in order to get at the pipes. Before. After.

Problem identified. It so happens that in the mountains of North Carolina it, you know, snows in the winter time. And all the insulation in the world isn't going to hold back a good freeze. That coupled with a poor drainage system that left water in the pipes through the cold season yielded a predictable result. Cracked pipes.

And these were no friendly cracks, I say. These cracks demanded a retooling of the little cabin's plumbing system. And until that task was completed, no peeing and showering was permitted. Luckily our friendly neighbor down the way was a nice person. I am referring to Barbara, by the way, who has her own story to be told at a later date.

As you can see from the aforelinked photographs, it was a messy job. By the time we'd pulled in, McNeely's Ace was already closed so we had to wait until Tuesday to make the repairs. In the meantime, we still (luckily) had cold water. But this is mountain well water. Cold enough to freeze off— You get the picture. So unless you were looking forward to a bout with hypothermia, it was best to put off a shower until later.

Once the appropriate parts and tools were procured, the repair job was quick and easy. And my grandpa even installed a new/better drainage system so that this would not happen in the future.

All in all, it was a rocky start, but at the very worst it kept things from getting dull.

Ironically Speaking: Liz and I went to the orientation for our summer online class today. The teacher was absolutely hilarious, or at least I thought so. The catch is he lives in Mississippi and therefore we'll probably never see him again, making this the one time I've ever wished I had to actually go to class. My damn luck, right?

This was taken up on the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina. It was beautiful up there. More stories from the mountains tomorrow. 

It's called a dandelion. Are you blind? 

This is a touched-up photo of my grandfather's Japanese maple. It's one of the many odd plants in his North Carolina garden. 

Free For All

That Sound You Hear? » The Lower East Side Of Life by Eric Heatherly
Current Hit Count On This Blog » 592
Big News » Nintendo introduced its new Game Boy Micro today. It's roughly the size of an iPod Mini. Hell, that's still too big. I say it should be no larger than a wrist watch. Who wants to take up valuable pocket space when you could wear an entire game system on your arm? Who's with me?

Now, today's story...

I would venture to guess that I first got my library card around 1990 or 1991. Since that time, I can't recall ever really using it. Until today.

You've heard of Jason right? He's the guy who watches 7th Heaven and later balks at the notion by complaining in the form of not one but two comments on my blog. Oh yes, that is him. And I am narrowly related to him. We share common parents.

So just when you thought he couldn't possibly get any dumber, he does something semi-brilliant. I tack on the "semi-" because it took him longer than it should have to tell me that in this new library that was built a block away from our house, they have an entire section dedicated to DVD movies and TV shows. Well clearly, this captured my interest.

He told me about this for the first time last week before I left for my trip to North Carolina. But I never really believed him. An entire section dedicated to modern films and television series? In a public library? Come on.

This afternoon, we took a trip over there so that I could see for myself. And behold, it was all true. Rows and rows of DVD shelves stood before me with movies and shows I could borrow absolutely free. Goodbye Blockbuster, see ya later Brett and your Hollywood Video (sorry, man). Screw the shelling out of four clams for a DVD rental, my public library has all of these things and more free of charge. Yes, indeed.

And not only were there DVDs available to me, but honest to god modern music. An entire section of country CDs to choose from. Which I did, by the way.

Now once I'd gotten past the ecstasy of having free entertainment media at my disposal, I began to wonder whether I had really been within the walls of a library. Does that not sound like a video store to you? Sure, there were more books than movies, but one must wonder.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I'll be the last to complain. Rest assured I'll be making frequent visits throughout the summer. Just today I picked up a pair of DVDs and a trio of CDs. Part of the first season of Six Feet Under (I know, at a public library, can you believe it?) and the first four episodes of Millennium.

I've got a week and then I believe I'll be picking up some new ones. By the way, Millennium sucked. A lot. So I'm glad I got to find that out without spending any money.

Gotta love the library.

Musical Exodus: So here's the thing, the server I'm using to hold the 30-second music clips I post everyday isn't, you know, limitless. I only have so much space there so starting this week I'll be removing songs in the archives this week. If you're really dying to hear one at some point in the future, just e-mail me.

Those are raindrops for those of you without eyes. I think they're just great. 

New Beginnings

That Sound You Hear? » When You Come Back Down by Nickel Creek
Days Until The 2005 Hurricane Season » 16
Big News » Kenny and Renee sittin' in a tree, dashing the hopes of every girl whoever thought (but never really did) have a chance. Here's to you folks and more laughs than I could have inspired on my own. (I know it happened a week ago, but I was pent up in the mountains.)

Now, today's story...

My god, could I have possibly delayed this any longer? No, no I don't think that is possible. Though my week-long break must surely have given you enough time to catch up what's truly important — previous posts and the fiction blog, of course.

That said, this week is one of my favorite weeks of the year. Every May, the big networks announce their fall schedules (I know you're laughing at me, but you just wait). See, it's comforting that they do it now because it gives me something to look forward to as series' seasons are ending all over the place.

Today, NBC held its announcement event for advertisers in New York. The best news is that The West Wing is moving out of Alias' time slot and into Sunday at 8 P.M.

The worst news is that American Dreams was canceled. (I'd link that, but pretty soon NBC will be removing the site.) And the most worrisome news is that Scrubs wasn't on the schedule at all. Though, fear not, for NBC assures us that it will return the very moment after My Name Is Earl tanks. (Also not linking that one for reasons similar to the aforementioned.)

Then there's the new series: Fathom, E-Ring and Inconceivable. Don't get me wrong, I like the one-word titles, but not so crazy about some of the premises. Fathom farts around with a family that likes to scour the bottom of the ocean for new life. I'll have to see the pilot before I can believe that will sustain a series.

E-Ring seems to be what might fill the void left by the exit of JAG. It's set in The Pentagon and doesn't seem all that interesting. Again, not passing any judgment until I've seen the pilot. At this point, I'm just commenting on the premise and whatever else I've read about it.

Finally on Friday nights there's Inconceivable. Aptly titled since I can't imagine why anyone would write a medical drama set in a fertility clinic. Nor can I imagine it being any good. Once again, we'll wait until September to determine whether it's any good or not.

The new beginnings in the fall are always exciting. Because every new series has the potential to become a hit, but not all of them will. In fact, hardly any of them will.

Speaking of beginnings, I started my sign language class today, which from here on out will be referred to as ASL. The teacher is deaf, which is the best way to go for a class like this, and funny as hell. She forced us to symbolically tear out our larynxes and toss them into an invisible basket at the center of the room. We weren't allowed to have them back until class was dismissed.

Her name is Jennifer Briggs and she's been deaf since birth. So I'm sure she gets the same feeling watching us try to fingerspell our names that we do when we watch toddlers attempt a recitation of the alphabet. I'll keep you up to date on all the funny things Briggs does throughout the next 10 weeks. I'm sure there's more to come.

With that, I'm going to get a cinnamon bun because they're just that good. And because it's nearing midnight and I'd like to get this thing posted.

Done and done.

My PO Gig: I got the paperwork for my post office job. Oh yeah, the big written exam isn't until June 9. I need four weeks to prepare for a grammar test? I edited a newspaper for 2 years and have been writing since I could hold a pencil. I'll stop whining and go through the motions. Because come July, I'll be making more money than I thought a college student could possibly make. (Modesty's my thing, what do you want?)

I really do intend to get back into writing this thing. I really do have more stories to tell. But while you're waiting, enjoy this picture. A sunset in the mountains is always relaxing. That's the road that goes to our cabin, by the way. 

On Holiday

I know you'll all be disappointed to hear this, but I'm probably not going to be able to update my blog very often, if at all, this week. Cry if you must, but know that this Saturday I will return with all the sarcastic stories you could ever hope for. Oh yes, and many new pictures!

I depart in two days for the mountains. Here, look at this dam for a while. Ooh. Pretty. By the way, Idaho and Kansas have been added to the map on the sidebar. Big spike yesterday. 

Here Stupid, Have This Deadly Weapon

That Sound You Hear? » Why by Jason Aldean (From CMT's Studio 330 Sessions)
Current Hit Count On This Blog » 511
Big News » Paula Abdul had an affair with an American Idol contestant and nobody cared. Whoa. Okay, well I didn't care. Other people are just nosy like that. Because Primetime Live had its highest ratings in a long time on Wednesday.

Now, today's story...

I am finally back home now. Though it was more complicated than it has been in the past. And I'm not referring to all the boxes and the packing and the like. Although to be honest, those things did have a hand in it.

The day started at 10 A.M. yet I never actually left the campus until nearly 4:00 in the afternoon. This had a lot to do with the fact that the luggage carrier that I brought from the house to assist me was, well, broken. So there was a reason why it had just been sitting in the garage all this time. Actually, no, that's not a good reason.

So I stood around in the Holly M "waiting room" for about 30 minutes holding onto the hope that eventually someone would finish with a cart and grant me the privilege. It finally happened though I only had the thing about a third of the length of time I waited for it. No, that was not a complaint. Truly. You haven't heard nothing yet.

On my way to return the cart, I was nearly flattened by a "hip" college dad who didn't seem to grasp the concept of a raised crosswalk. He'd just helped his daughter move out of her dorm so maybe he thought that meant he was exempt from the rules. Have you not been watching the news lately? Pedestrians are getting steamrolled all over the area.

There's more. I stopped at the Wendy's on Providence to feed myself since I'd been doing hard labor for six hours (minus about 30 minutes) on an empty stomach. A little ways down the road the traffic starts slowing down. This is to be expected as its late on a Friday afternoon.

Now, me, I'm a careful driver. Nearly to a fault. My friends heckle me for driving "too slow" most of the time. But I obey all the dumb rules because not only would I prefer to avoid a ticket at all costs, but I'd kind of like to not leave this world from within the confines of a motor vehicle, thank you for the opportunity.

I leave plenty of lead room for the guy in front of me in case he's an idiot who decides to slam on his brakes suddenly. Well like I said, the traffic was slowing down and the guy in front of me was thankfully not an idiot. No, that would be the guy behind me. In his pathetically "pimped out" pickup truck.

Maybe he was answering his cell phone. Maybe he was changing the radio station. Or maybe he was just in la-la land. Whatever the case may be, as I slowly slowed down, he did not. Instead he realized I was stopping and screeched his tires for us. Well done, fella.

Well the car behind him did the same thing, and then plowed right into his rear end. And that continued. In my rear view mirror, I watched three cars pile up on top of each other following screeching tires. Their little shindig blocked up the eastbound lanes of Bloomingdale Avenue for who knows how long — at rush hour. All because some idiot doesn't know what brake lights mean.

The DMV practically offers you the James Bond Special — a veritable "license to kill" to anyone who can speak English (and even some who can't). Now, maybe I'm exaggerating and nobody died in the fender benders (I hope) but come on. These huge cars today don't stop unless something stops them, and it's not always the brakes. At least three people will be invensting in new bumpers this summer because Mr. Stupid thought it was more important to find the Cheese Nip he dropped on the floor than operate a deadly weapon with a little consideration.

Stupid stupid drivers. It made me not want to get back on the road today. Only I had to because I was meeting with my RA at 10 P.M. to get officially checked out of Kosove. Which I did, by the way, but only after a near miss with a barrel barricade in the middle of the interstate.

Seriously, the guy in front of me swerved into the center lane when he saw it, obviously not minding the fact that there was another car in that lane. He almost caused an accident as well. The least I could do was flick on my flashers for a few seconds and let the car behind me know there was debris in the road.

All said, this was not a good day for me to be on the road. I'm glad I'm going to bed now.

Near To Dear: If you haven't heard yet (and I'd be surprised if you haven't), be sure to check Liz and Cortney's blogs in the next couple days. They're sure to write about their alleged backstage passes at tonight's Kenny Chesney concert. Is it true? We'll believe it when we see the pictures.

Yes, more North Carolina. Expect to see more next week. Really. 

There Are Lots Of Boxes Around Me Now

That Sound You Hear? » On The Rocks by The Wrights
Days Until My 21st Birthday » 30
Big News » Tony Blair's been reelected for a third term as Britain's prime minister. The guy's like Franklin Roosevelt. Only he can walk. And, well, it's 80 years later. And he's British. But Roosevelt liked the Brits. He liked to hang out with a naked Winston Churchill. Can this even be considered news anymore?

Now, today's story...

I have been packing most of the night. It's the greatest feeling in the world. Like I just want to start beating someone over the head with a stapler. But no, that would be wrong. So I will put the stapler in the box.

At the beginning and end of every semester. Same thing. The good news is that after three years I've devised a system. I know what things go in what boxes to make everything fit in my miniature-sized car. Believe it or not, there is a science.

I take solace in the fact that this may be the second-to-last time I'll have to go about this nonsense for quite some time. I expect to move into an apartment this summer with some friends. What a relief that will be.

Living on campus is pretty much the nightmare it sounds for those of you who have never done it. Sure, you get the close proximity to your classes, but that extra 30 minutes of sleep does not make up for idiot roommates. No, it's true.

More on that later, but the gist of the story is I narrowly escaped roommates who I'm sure will one day make the perfect Enron executives. Wait, Enron tanked? Who knew?

So Monday morning I depart this hellish state (and by hellish I am of course referring to the heat) and make way to the mountains of North Carolina. Last summer, I went with Jennifer. If you read my blog regularly (and I think you and I both know that you don't, but should) then you likely have seen pictures.

So yes, oh yes, to the Blue Ridge Mountains I go. I just love it there. And if you think you're funny because you're laughing at me in your head right now I would only remind you that you're spending your valuable time reading my blog. Not so funny now, is it?

Speaking of which, I'm not sure I'll be able to post anything next week. It depends on whether we have internet access up there. That is unknown at this point. I know, you're scared. But don't be. I'll be back by week's end. I would never lie to you.

Oh, you know that's a lie.

Enjoy yourself and read some quality fiction over on my other blog. I require it.

Nothing To Fear But...: You get the idea. I have to get back to these boxes now. And I will do my best to write to you (yes, you) during my vacation in the mountains. I know the prospect of my being unable to write saddens you. I'm sure you'll find a way to get over it.

To the Blue Ridge Mountains I return next week! Isn't that exciting? Hey! You there, mocking me. Just stop it. Stop it. Okay? All right. 

Yep, I took this one too. I expect to have a whole new batch of pictures soon since I'll be spending next week in the mountains of North Carolina. 

Are You Lost?

That Sound You Hear? » The Empire In My Mind by Jakob Dylan
Current Hit Count On This Blog » 464
Big News » A five-year-old British kid won a prize in his Golden Puffs this morning. It was a corn snake. No, seriously. There was a snake in the cereal box. This kid must've thought he won the jackpot.

Now, today's story...

I am finished. My final final was this morning and I flew right through it. We'll find out later whether that means I did good or bad.

This means it is once again time to pack up my belongings and move them the 25 miles back to my house. I do hate to move. There's nothing less fun in the world. Well maybe there are a few things. I'd probably rather move than be shot in the head. Though I gotta say, I imagine being shot in the head would be pretty painless.

Hang on. Weighing my options. Shot to the head? Move?

Yeah, I'll move. Because if I'm dead, I'll probably miss the season finale of Lost in two weeks. Speaking of which, the first new episode since April 6 is on tonight!

I'm excited. When new shows are being promoted every summer, I like to go down the list and think about which ones I think I'll enjoy as opposed to which ones I think will bomb within their first month. I base my presumptions on what I've read about, people involved and any clips or promotional spots I've seen.

Lost was one of those shows that I just knew would be awesome — to me. What surprised me is that it became so popular. All I knew about it last summer was that it was a show about a bunch of people who crash on an island — but it was written by J.J. Abrams. To me, that meant it had to be better than any premise statement could ever hope to be.

It was. Still is. My favorite kinds of stories focus on character development, which is why I ended up taking such a liking to Lost. Each week it tells a story from the point of view of a single character and relates it somehow to what is happening on that freaky island. If that's not character development, nothing is.

I seem to have gotten off on a television tangent here. So while I'm at it, I should mention that there's usually always a show that I don't think will be that good that surprises me. This year, that show is House.

The only place I'd ever seen Hugh Laurie was an episode of Friends where they all went to London. He mocked Jennifer Aniston for a while. He was funny then, and so he is as Dr. Greg House. When it began, it seemed like a story-driven series about a medical team that diagnoses unknown diseases. Actually, that describes Medical Investigation and there's a reason it's not on anymore.

As the season went on, House turned into a more character-focused series. The episodes are still driven by the medical crisis but now there's a special emphasis on the people. For example, next week House is going on a date to get back a member of his team who left because of her unrequited feelings for him.

Good shows are hard to come by, but there are a few. And I demand that you watch them.

Or else...

Wonderful Weather: It's been beautiful outside all day. The clouds. The rain. I love all of it. Sometimes I do like living in Florida. Indeed. Now if only we could get a little snow every now and then.

How about the view from those condos? 

My Two Cents

That Sound You Hear? » Good Things Happen by Dierks Bentley
Watch I Watched Tonight » 24 (and it was magnificent)
Big News » A feller in North Carolina located a fingertip in his frozen custard at a dessert shop today. What is going on? Is there some epidemic of secret digit-severing that the American people are being left in the dark on?

Now, today's story...

I'm thinking about changing the name of my blog to "Me? Cheapskate? Stop..." because I'm about to tell another story about a ridiculously small amount of money.

And I mean it's not like I really care, but the story makes me laugh. And it will make you laugh. And if it doesn't make you laugh, then I don't care to hear about it. And if I don't stop starting sentences with "and" someone is going to drop and anvil on my head.

Okay, you're still with me. That's pretty surprising. You're a good person. I like you. Well, except for you. Yes, you know who you are.

Still here, eh? Then you deserve a story about a couple of pennies.

I went to lunch this afternoon with Liz and Cortney to celebrate our escape from Colonel Sanders' Communication Law class. Yes, it's finally over. And though this may be the first time I'm mentioning it, I assure you it wasn't nearly as much fun as it sounds. And if you think it already does not sound fun — well, ponder that.

Wow, you are still reading. Kudos to you. So we landed on Applebees post our 33-question final courtesy of Professor Fried Chicken. (Seriously, these jokes would make more sense if I had a picture. Wait, I do.)

I guess Liz and Cortney pissed off the hostess because they wanted nothing more or less than a booth. They were worried someone would spit in their food. But that fear seemed to dissipate once we got a waitress. A nice one. Who they refused to speak to. So I did all the talking.

I ordered our appetizer. I ordered extra napkins. I ordered separate checks. I ordered take-home boxes. And apparently all of this was cause for an extra 2¢ to be added onto my bill.

We asked Marisol (the waitress, how'd you guess?) to add it all up and split it three ways since I was the only one paying with cash. Well she did that. Except that while Liz and Cortney paid $11.99 each, I was charged $12.01. Only I paid just $12.00 because Marisol was too lazy (or too generous) to give me $0.99 and replaced it with the full dollar bill.

Still, was it all my input during the meal that triggered the need for me to put my two cents in again when it came time to pull out the wallets? As much as it may seem like I'm complaining, I promise you I am not. I'm completely indifferent to being charged an extra two pennies. Really. I swear.

Okay, fire away with the cheapskate jokes. I can take it.

Fiction 4 U: Are you bored? I have a cure. Read my fiction blog. This week on The Chosen somebody gets shot! In the heart! Really!

Atlanta. Yes, it is. Don't argue with me. I was there. I shot the picture. Yeah, that's right. 

Anything Good On Tonight?

That Sound You Hear? » Freewheelin' by Jeffrey Steele
Days of NHL Lockout » 227
Big News » A new Australian cemetery has some money-saving, space-saving ideas. Rather than laying the dead horizontally, they're going to be buried standing up. In body bags. On grazing land. Good thing sheep don't care much for human flesh. Or let's hope not, right?

Now, today's story...

My blog has officially spanned two months. I wrote some crap in April. And now I've written some crap in May. That's two months. Really.

What a great idea Liz had, huh? All this bloggery was her idea. No kidding. April 6, she's all, I'm thinking about starting a blog. And I say, what's a blog? And she explains. And I go, damn, that's a cool idea (because you know how I love to write when I have the time). So here I am.

Yeah that was a lot of not-so-subtle sucking up right there. I could use the points at the moment. We'll just suffice to say I'm not always as funny as I think I am. No, it's true. Anyhow, this blog deal was a pretty good idea. I'm glad she got me into it.

What today is really about is television. I know, hard to believe, right? Specifically, it's about the choices made by Jason and Gardner about what to watch.

Let's first take Jason. I'm over at the house the other day and he's supposedly "sound asleep" in the living room. When he "awakens," playing on the TV is 7th Heaven (which does not deserve a link), one of the worst things ever broadcast (except, you know, it's okay for religious families and all, I guess).

Jason later claimed to have not truly been awake while his eyes were open and directed at the television set. He lies. Everyone knows it. He should confess. And the smart money is on a comment coming from him very soon. And should he read that and decide not to comment, well then we shall all know it's true having no other means of denial.

Then there's Gardner. I was over at his apartment the other night watching Family Guy (which has gloriously returned to network television with new episodes, by the way), when he told me of his passion for such shows as Desperate Housewives, Grey's Anatomy, and... wait for it, Gilmore Girls. No, no, no!

Oh yes, these are the choices in primetime entertainment that have been made by what some would call my friends and family. How unfortunate. In all fairness to Gardner, however, I must point out that I have never actually seen Gilmore Girls, and before passing any further judgment, vow to at least watch the pilot.

As for Jason, I gave him credit for enjoying Arrested Development and, well, I guess the promos for Lost. But 7th Heaven? And this was not the first time I caught him in the act either. On several occasions he has been "not watching" that horrible excuse for television writing.

For shame, Jason. For shame.

Addiction: While I usually mock those who find themselves oddly attached to various online games, I find myself stuck in that pathetic situation. While cruising around MSNBC for an interesting news item earlier today I stumbled upon a ridiculous game called Bespelled in which the player forms words out of a mass of letters — similar to Boggle. Except you aren't timed and there's more crap involved. Help me. Please. It's addicting.