July 3, 2008

Another enchanted rant

I accidentally turned on Sex and the City tonight, and Carrie was going to some red carpet event with her boyfriend who wanted to ride his motorcycle there.  She was objecting because she didn’t want helmet hair, which I suppose is a valid excuse for a woman about to walk a red carpet.  But that’s not tonight’s topic.  No, in order to get her to ride the bike with him, the boyfriend said, “Do it for me?”

What the fuck kind of argument is this supposed to be?  I’ve heard this countless times, mostly in the media (thank goodness not in real life, otherwise I would have to recant this every time).  “Do it for me?” is probably one of the most selfish things you can say.  Are you really worth the hassle of helmet hair?  Was she not listening the first time you suggested you take the motorcycle?

Maybe the real issue here is not the phrase, but the circumstance.  The boyfriend said something along the lines of, “Oh come on, we haven’t taken the bike out once since we started dating!”  Who the fuck cares?  And why start now, on the eve of a red carpet gala?  Have some damn respect, man.

Mostly, though, I don’t like the phrase.  It’s too pleading, and if I wasn’t going to do something for you in the first place, it’s sure as hell not going to change now that you pulled out that line.  Maybe if you meant more to me in the first place I would consider it.  But the mere question is self-degrading; it’s as if you are begging to mean more to someone than you originally did.

So the next time you want me to do something for you, and I seem hesitant, for the love of Christ do NOT ask me to do it for “you”.  This will only serve to piss me off, and it will force me not to acquiesce.

June 24, 2008

I’m pissed

So, my friend told me she had something business-related that she wanted to explain to me, but she wouldn’t say exactly what it was.  I was a bit mystified but agreed to meet up with her last night.  When I got there, it wasn’t just her; it was a group of aspiring entrepeneurs that wanted to get me to buy into their “get rich quick” scheme.  It’s called Quixtar, and if you’ve never heard of it, don’t ask for an explanation from someone affiliated with it - it’ll waste at least an hour of your time.  In my case, it’s already wasted more than that.

I have a hard time saying no.  I found that out last night, when, after an hour of someone explaining a business model to me that I couldn’t give two shits about, they asked me to meet tonight at 6pm to ask questions and figure out if I want to do it or not.  The sad thing is I knew I didn’t want anything to do with it the moment he said “Quixtar”.  My ex-piano teacher tried to get my parents to buy into it a few years ago, and my dad is a tough sell with those kinds of things.  Ironically, later my piano teacher said that my dad was right in not getting into it because it’s not worth it.  I didn’t have to balls to just say that my dad is totally against it because they would probably see that as an opportunity to call my dad out on his business knowledge, and to call me out for following my dad blindly.  But all I know is my dad is a damn successful person and I will applaud them if they make as much money as he does ever in their lives.

So this morning I called the guy that I was supposed to meet with and I left a message basically saying I wasn’t interested.  Unfortunately, he had given me this CD of some entrepeneur giving a lecture (which by the way the guy was a total piece of shit and did the opposite of inspiring me to want into the Quixtar system.  And he said that he really needed the CD back.  He eventually called me back and after a bit of verbal wrangling, I thought we agreed to meet at the union at 6pm, just to give him the CD back.  Fine.  But after class I decided that instead of walking back to my apartment and then back to the union, I would just get some of my reading done at the union and wait until 6pm.  To my non-surprise, I found the guy in the same room that I had talked to him last night.  On the phone he claimed to be busy until 6pm (which he technically was because he was meeting with some other people) but all I wanted to do was give him the god damn CD back so I didn’t have to even meet with them later (because I know I’ll have to go through the arduous process of telling them off).  He saw me and came up to me, and I offered him the CD.  And he wouldn’t take it.  Basically, he used it as a bargaining chip to ensure that they get one more meeting with me.  I was pretty pissed off.  Just take the damn thing so I don’t have to talk to you again.

So here I sit, on the union terrace, fuming into my keyboard, and he’s literally 20 feet away and HE WOULDN’T TAKE THE FUCKING CD!  There’s 45 minutes until I meet with him and his cohorts.

June 18, 2008

Childhood memories.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I please speak to Jason?”

“Umm…I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh…is this 244-7691?”

“No, it’s 224…”

“Oh…well I’m calling from United Blood Services…are you a blood donor?”

This conversation took place about five minutes ago.  It marks the first time that someone has solicited me while attempting to contact someone else.  That’s some damn good stuff they’re teaching telemarketers these days!  I just hung up on him.

Lately I’ve had a lot to say and felt as if I couldn’t quite get it down.  Several times I started writing and immediately stopped and closed my browser as if it wasn’t worth the trouble.  Well, that’s trouble in itself.

On the plane back to school I looked through my writing history, from elementary school to present, and I realized that in sixth grade I wrote a very impressive, if not somewhat naive, paper on jellyfish.  The structure was nearly perfect and I am 98% certain that no one helped me write it, because my self-motivation was one of my best attributes as a child.  I also wrote a factually-inaccurate account of the Sioux.

Here is the jellyfish paper:

What really are jellyfish?  They are not jelly, nor are they fish.  They are actually made of more than 95% water!  They have no heart, brain, blood, bones, or eyes.  But they do have nerve cells that help them react to food or danger.  Sensors tell them if they are up-side down, inside-out (yeah right), or up or down.  They breathe by absorbing oxygen and releasing carbon-dioxide.  They are also made of 3-4% salt and 1-2% protein.

Their habitat can range from the Arctic to the Antarctic, from Chesapeake Bay in Maryland to 3,200 feet below the surface of the ocean, although some do live in rivers, streams, and lakes.

They eat mostly zooplankton, small fish, and often other jellyfish!  However, their predators are, again, other jellyfish, sea turtles, Glaucus sea slugs, and the ocean sunfish.  They all find their prey very tasty.  A jellyfish’s mouth is an oral cavity on the bottom of their bell.

Usually, jellyfish have long tentacles with stinging cells on them, most often with nematocysts, which do the job of stinging prey.  They have dome-shaped body called bells that are sometimes frilly.  They have a layer of “jelly” called mesogloea.  They are almost transparent, giving them great camouflage in the open habitat they live in.

There are many different types of jellyfish.  Comb jellies, Lion’s mane jellies, Moon jellies, and Upside-down jellies to name the common ones.  But the deadliest of them all is the Sea wasp.  Its venom is said to be deadlier than the most poisonous snake in the world and can kill its unfortunate victim in less than 3 minutes!

Life cycles of jellyfish depend on wether or not it is a Scyphozoan or a Hydrozoan-Cubozoan.  (Scyphozoans are true jellyfish, Hydrozoans and Cubozoans are not.)  Life cycles of a Scyphozoan start out as a fertilized egg, then become larvae, then become a polyp.  Polyps look like buds on a tree, they cling to coral and then comes the next step.  When they are a polyp the transform into a young medusa and, they are free to move about now, as they grow older, they become an adult medusae.  Hydrozoans, however, are a little bit different.  Hydrozoans start out like the Scyphozoans but when they get to polyp, they form a hydroid colony, then they bud into a young medusa — sort of like a flower — and grow to be an adult medusa.  Adult medusae usually live about 2-6 months, but usually perish in rough waters.

“Communication is the Key!”  That is sort of my dadís motto.  However, I was unable to find out if they communicate, and if so, how.  My inference is that they communicate using echolocation.

Jellyfish are truly amazing creatures.  I had a hard time with the communication section.  I e-mailed some person and they mistook “Jellyfish” as a band!  It was fun, though, even with all the hard work.  I just need some more information!

Here is the Sioux paper:

Almost 400 years ago, the Sioux Indians came from Asia across the ice bridge and into a new life.  Today the Sioux live in areas of North and South Dakota or they determine camps from buffalo herds.

The Sioux worshiped Wakan Tanka, or the Great Spirit.  They believed that he had power over everything.  They also believed that everything had a spirit and worshiped the spirits daily.  The way the set their tipis, ate, and worked was supposed to please the spirits.

The Sioux had no written language, but Siouan was spoken among the tribes.  Since the Sioux had no written language, they drew picture calendars instead.  A picture calendar is a series of symbols that makes up a story, sort of like a journal.

The Siouxís dwellings were tipis.  A tipi is 6 to 8 wooden poles covered with 12-15 buffalo hides.  They built tipis because they are very easy to take down and put back up when traveling.  Usually, the men would paint scenes of war on the outside of the tipi.

Food was not so much grown, but hunted.  The Sioux hunted buffalo with spears and arrows.  When the horse came to North America it was a big help to the Sioux because they could run with the buffalo, instead of sneaking up on them.  They grew very little crops, but they did grow wild rice.

The Sioux had a vast variety of clothing:  some for dancing, some for everyday life.  For a powwow, a fancy dancer would wear bustles and beads.  But a shawl dancer would wear a long fringed shawl and beaded dress, moccasins, and leggings.  For every day life, men would wear a shirt and jeans, boys would wear the same, women would wear beaded necklaces and ornaments, girls would wear vests, and infants would wear the skin of buffalo calves.

For entertainment, the Sioux would play various games, usually centered around learning skills.  Races would be on foot or on horseback.  The boys would have contests like running, jumping, and shooting arrows.  One guessing game was the Moccasin Game.  You would put a pebble under one of three moccasins and then other people would have to guess which moccasin the pebble was under.  Seasonal activities consisted of swimming, sledding, ice sliding, and spinning tops on the ice.  At night, there would sometimes be storytelling and maybe even a powwow.  The adults loved to gamble.

The Sioux made few crafts, because they would break during frequent traveling.  They did make some crafts, though.  An arrow case, moccasins, medicine shields, anklets, talking sticks, and applique designs are some of the crafts they made.  Leather, wood, and skins were what these were made of.

The Sioux’s weapons were taken from other armies as well as made by hand.  The guns would usually be taken from a warsite, while the bows, arrows, and spears would be made by hand.  The bows consisted of wood bent in a U shape, then sinew was tied to the ends of the bow.  Arrows were carved from branches with sharp stones.  Spears would be made the same way except for the arrowhead made of obsidian on the head of the spear.  The Sioux didn’t have many tools, but a common tool was the Travois.  A Travois is two branches tied together with sinew and was used for transporting goods or people.

The Sioux didn’t have pets, but dogs and horses were used to pull the Travois.  They did not consider animals as pets, just working animals.  If they fed the dogs, the dogs would follow them to another campsite.

The Sioux had a war-filled life, and not really a pleasent life.  Life in the Dakotas was hard in the 1600ís, but the Siouxís resources helped them survive the battle.  The Sioux were an amazing tribe of people.

In retrospect, the Sioux paper isn’t that bad, besides the part that states the Sioux traveled on a land bridge 400 years ago.  I hope someone explained to me the real timeline here.

June 5, 2008

I got pulled over last night

There’s a stop sign up by the AJA apartment that I’ve been running regularly.  And last night, I finally got caught.  I now have four points on my record and I owe Reno $170.  I would go to court and try to lessen the points and fine, but I leave for Dallas/Madison next Wednesday and couldn’t be back in Reno until August 12th.  The lady I talked to at the court said that a one-month extension is possible, but that would only take me to August 1st.  She said the only other option is to write a letter to the judge asking for more time or to just pay the fine and take traffic school.

Coming back to Reno costs a lot more than $170 so I think that’s out of the question.  The money isn’t really the problem, though; it’s the demerit points.  I had no idea that running a stop sign is four points.  And traffic school?  That would imply that I didn’t know how to drive.

My defense in court would be that I have a perfect driving record until this citation, and that I don’t habitually run stop signs - but if you’re going to run a stop sign, this is the one to run.  It’s not even a four-way stop.  It’s a T intersection, and the road is angled in a way that you can see the whole street above before you even get to the corner.  I was making a right-hand turn, which in my opinion is far less dangerous than a left-turn stop sign run.  I’m not a dumbass.  If I thought it was a dangerous maneuver, I wouldn’t have done it.  It was midnight and if there were any cars coming I would’ve seen their headlights.  Plus I check the street for cars every time, day or night.  It’s not like I obliviously and recklessly blew through it.

I won’t be running it again, thanks to my citation.  But four points is kind of a lot considering that I’ve never been cited for anything else in my life, and that I took the necessary precautions to avoid an accident.

On a more positive note, the cop that pulled me over was a nice guy, just doing his job, just as all the cops who have pulled me over have been.  Don’t worry cops, I don’t hate you like most of my peers.

May 29, 2008

A lot has changed

Austin is in Oregon taking care of personal problems and I am drumming the next three Stately Gentlemen gigs.

This is a very bittersweet feeling.  One on hand I know that I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, and I’m finally getting to.  On the other hand Austin is struggling with stuff I’d rather not elaborate here, and that’s sad.  However, I plan to make the most of the three gigs because they may be the only three gigs I will ever play as drummer of the Stately Gentlemen.  We’re playing Zephyr, Satellite, and a brewery in Truckee, the latter for significant monetary compensation.

The last few days have been great.  We’ve been practicing every day and I’m getting all the songs down.  We’re even playing “Aeroplane” by Red Hot Chili Peppers, which sounds kickass.

Also, this summer they are already tentatively booked into Hyperion to record a full-length album.  I may get the chance to record the drums on this album.  There are many variables at play, mostly ones that lie between Austin and the rest of the band.  That will be their decision obviously, but I’ve already cleared the idea with my parents.  The only downside of spending seven to nine days in LA is that I won’t be able to take my second summer class, which complicates my schedule for the fall.  I’m fairly certain I will be able to pull everything together if I do indeed record, but I don’t want to get stuck in the situation that I commit to going and then something happens and they decide Austin can record.  I don’t care who they want to record; I just don’t want to change all my plans for nothing.

Summer has turned for the better in a strange way.  If this is any indication of things to come, this may be the best summer ever.

May 23, 2008

Now you don’t need Cs to get degrees

Check out this ridiculous spam e-mail I got a couple days ago:

Bacheelor, MasteerMBA, and Doctoraate diplomas available in the field of your choice that’s right, you can even become a Doctor and receive all the benefits that comes with it!

Our Diplomas/Certificates are recognised in most countries

No required examination, tests, classes, books, or interviews.

** No one is turned down
** Confidentiality assured

CALL US 24 HOURS A DAY, 7 DAYS A WEEK

For US: 1-718-989-5740
Outside US: +1-718-989-5740

“Just leave your NAME & PHONE NO. (with CountryCode)” in the voicemail

our staff will get back to you in next few days

Just a little bit shady.

May 23, 2008

Thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening

Let me just say I hate Queen.  But this isn’t about Queen.

Do you remember your parents telling you that the way to figure out a storm’s distance is to count the seconds between when you see lightning and when you hear thunder?  I do.  But that’s actually a horrible way to gauge the distance; it’s off by a factor of five.

A few of us were barbecuing outside of Jim, Anthony, and Andy’s apartment (referred to as AJA HQ from now on to reduce typing fatigue) and there was a thunderstorm in the distance with some pretty gnarly lightning strikes.  Someone brought up the old mile-for-every-second adage and Mike G. and I started discussing the math behind it.

We realized that it wasn’t adding up.  For our calculations, we guessed that the speed of sound was around 650 mph (we later checked on Wikipedia and found out it was 770 mph).  Either way, they didn’t support this deceitful legend which has been passed down through generations.  770 mph / 60 minutes / 60 seconds ≈ 0.2 miles per second counted, which means that for every five seconds counted, the storm is about one mile away, not five as previously thought by our forefathers and foremothers.  This confirmed our physical evidence since the storm looked to be at least ten miles away and we were not hearing any thunder.

All in all, it was a good night, and it was made better by exposing this heinous lie.  Tell your friends!

May 20, 2008

Forget the Brobecue; Let’s Talk About School

I’ve always hated when people whine that finals are worth too much of your final grade in a class.  I’ve constantly countered that people should just suck it up and deal with it.  However, I think I just experienced the phenomenon where your grade drops because you did shitty on the final.

I had a perfect grade in Anthro 104.  Literally, I had full points on everything except for our final paper and our final exam.  Well, I got a 20/35 on the paper and a C on the final, and I received a B in the class.  That just sucks.  I really hate to even mention this because it’s a bit hypocritical of my usual mindset.

I think I’m more pissed that I’m getting a 3.0 this semester as opposed to my prediction that I couldn’t really get below a 3.4.  At least I’m consistent, though - my average for both fall semesters so far is a 3.8, while my average for both spring semesters so far is a 3.0.  Something about springtime makes me perform poorly.  I think it’s more to do with my credit count.  I’ve done excellent with ≤ 12 credits and just decent > 12.  That’s why I’m taking 12 credits from now on!

May 19, 2008

Coming Home and the Weekend

It’s time to write again.  After all, TJ is going to kill me if I don’t.

I got into Reno around 4:30pm on Friday and it was like 95 degrees.  We have two rental cars right now until my parents drive to Carmel on Wednesday.  I’m driving a Nissan Xterra which is actually pretty sweet.  Sadly, I’ll be giving it up soon.

I saw the Mailanders on Friday night.  That was a good time.  It was me, Jim, Caitlin, and them, and we talked for about three hours.  And we ate Lydia’s cookies which were tasty.  On a side note, earlier that night I had my first In-N-Out burger in four months and it was amazing.

Saturday was the best of all days so far.  Mark Sexton had a giant party officially titled “Summer Phun Thyme” and it was basically a sequel to the Rocktoberfestapaloozastock that occurred last year, which I missed.  We built a stage out of plywood and cinder blocks that actually looked pretty professional once finished.  There were three bands lined up - The Yavin Four (obvious Star Wars reference), The Stately Gentlemen, and The Mark Sexton Band.  The Gents played a few Beatles covers and some of their originals so I was able to play with them.

After the bands played, it was your typical college party, except that there was a shitload of people there and Eric Paulsen was there!  That was the highlight of the night because he doesn’t usually go to parties.  But I think he’s going to more often.  That’ll be fun.

The night ended with Alex Vaughn driving Anthony and I back to Anthony’s apartment, but first we took a detour at Del Taco.  We got six tacos each and we realized later that it was a lot of food.  But we ate them all anyways.  I crashed on their couch and in the morning we went back to Mark’s to finish tearing down and also to get our cars.

I want to write about last night (the brobecue) but right now I have to leave to go to Jesse’s to work on some songs.  Maybe I’ll write more tonight.

May 9, 2008

“We come from dust; we return to dust.”

In response to this story (”‘Pet crematorium’ complaint leads to Pentagon change”):

The government sure takes quick action when there are complaints about honoring the dead, but they don’t act very quickly when handling matters concerning the living.

Is anyone aware the process of cremating a body consists of putting it into a furnace until only bone dust remains?  It’s not supposed to be this pristine thing.

I’m not against honoring the dead.  But somewhere people need to realize that we are animals, just like the animals we call pets.  Our bodies are no more holy than theirs, and I use that word because the objection to the practice of burning human bodies in the same room as animal bodies probably has religious roots.  I don’t care what it says in the Bible - in the end, we’re all dust.  Oh wait, it does say that in the Bible.

Note to self: make sure to specify in my will that I refuse to be cremated in a facility that also cremates pets.  I don’t want the bone dust of someone’s dog dirtying up my soon-to-be-burned corpse

Dear Government,

Do something productive!