Welcome Back

I am absolutely shocked (and horrified) when I see how long it has been since this thing has been updated.  Needless to say, this has been a busy semester.  Juggling three classes, a conference in Boston, three 25-page papers as well as PhD applications has commanded most of my attention (and sanity).  However, the semester has now drawn to a close and all is now well.

My applications for doctoral work have all been submitted, and in the next few weeks the review process will begin.  For a control freak like myself, the fact that I am completely at the mercy of someone else’s decision is unsettling, to say the least.  I’m sure more will follow on this topic in the weeks and months to follow.

My Brother, the Swimmer

Along with the rest of the country, I’ve been watching Michael Phelps on TV for the past couple of weeks.  The guy is amazing, no doubts there.  However, the thought that continues to recur in my mind is how much he looks like my little brother.  Maybe it is just me, but I seriously feel that the two could have been separated at birth.  What do you think?

On Being a Procrastinator

Some have, in the past and at present, called me a procrastinator.  Their accusations often take different forms.  For example:

- “You haven’t done that yet?  I really need you to get on it.” — Previous Employer

- “You know, you and your father are a lot alike.”  — Mom

- “Whenever/if you get around to it.”  — Significant Other

There is no denying it…I am a procrastinator.  By my own admission, I would much rather do the things that I do not have to do rather than do the things I need to do.  Have you ever wondered if you are a procrastinator?  Of course you have!  Here are some examples (from my own life) that point to a propensity for procrastination.

1. My kitchen and bathrooms are exceptionally clean places.  Many who frequent my house chide me for being “overly tidy” or for having too much time on my hands.  The truth is, I actually have far too little time on my hands, but I would rather spend what time I do have cleaning my bathroom to avoid writing papers.
2. My iTunes library is enviably organized.  I have several playlists that coincide with the moods I may or may not find myself in, and some of them I’ve actually set up to change based on what I’ve listened to in the recent past.  Many times, when I sit down to make a new playlist, I think to myself, “What will I want to listen to when I finally sit down to write this paper of mine?”
3. I ride my bike to improve my concentration.  Along with being in the best shape of my life (really, its true), my recently acquired bike provides me with hours upon hours of procrastination opportunities.  Just this morning, I went for a ride so that I would be more “focused” and able to write a better paper.  It is actually pretty effective, but when I get back from a 10 mile ride, I of course have to do some ab work as well as some free weights.  Then comes the inevitable shower and nap.  Before I know it, night has come.
4. I have a blog.  If you truly wish to know whether or not you are a “real” procrastinator, ask yourself, “Do I have a blog.”  Blogs exist for no other reason than to enable procrastination.  Want proof?  I have a paper that I should be working on right now, but instead I’m writing a blog post about how I don’t want to work on it.  Case closed.

The surprising thing about procrastinators like myself is that, in one way or another, the work eventually gets done.  Most of my papers get turned in on time…I rarely incur late fees on my credit cards…my power has never been cut off due to not paying bills.  One of these days however, I hope to experience the joy of finishing something well ahead of schedule, without the panic and haste that often accompanies my penchant for putting things off till the last minute.  Until that day comes, my kitchen will sparkle and my playlists will grow.

Explosions and Language Barriers

Today I rode my bike down to the lakefront to get some work done at my favorite coffee shop.  I was sitting outside, making notes and minding my own business.  Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I looked over and there was an older lady standing next to me who said, with a thick accent, “are you OK?”  I thought it a wierd question, so I replied, “yes I am, how are you?”  She pointed to my hand, which I quickly noticed was covered in red ink.  “I was sitting over there and thought you were bleeding,” she said.  Realizing that my red pen was the obvious culprit, I said, “oh, thanks for letting me know…my pen must have exploded.”  The lady gave me a horrified look and took a step back.  “Exploded?” she said.  “Yes, exploded.”

She went back to her chair as I got up to throw the worthless writing instrument away.  I realized as I was on my way back to my table how unusual that expression must sound to someone who is not a native English speaker.  “Exploded” is a fairly strange way to describe what happens when your pen leaks on you.  I’m not terribly surprised that she and her friends moved to a more distant table.

It Really Is A Smart Car!

About two months ago, my mom and dad wandered into a Smart Car dealership in an effort to become more environmentally friendly in their driving.  They left with what has appropriately been deemed “the ladybug.”  It is a tiny convertible that seats two, and is probably one of the strangest looking vehicles you will see this side of the Atlantic.  I returned to Dallas this past week for a visit, and the Smart Car became my chariot.  Here are some observations, for those who are interested.

1. People don’t quite know what to do with the Smart Car. My first excursion in this little beast was to Starbucks.  When I pulled onto the street, I immediately found myself surrounded by large sport utility vehicles who were trying to get a better look at this car that is only slightly larger than a Texas horse fly.  They swarmed around me like buzzards and, considering the size of the car, I was just a bit terrified that one was going to nudge me just to see how far I would fly.  I made my way to the first stop light and, upon stopping, I looked to my left and right and saw people pointing.  Some were pointing with their jaws open, others were laughing.  I felt a bit like the ugly duckling, but I continued and pulled into parking lot.

2.  The Smart Car turns you into a celebrity/charity case. I pulled in front of Starbucks and proceeded to lock the doors.  A man ran out of the store shouting, “WOW!  WOW!  WOW!  SMART CAR!”  I watched him for a second, not quite knowing what to say, and then he started asking me questions about it.  I told him my experience only included the past 5 minutes, but I answered to the best of my ability.  He then asked if he could buy me a cup of coffee.  This was a surprise, but of course I said yes.  We talked in line and I felt like an absolute celebrity.  I mean, I can’t really remember the last time someone ran out of a store to ask me questions and then offer to buy me something.  Then, as he handed me my coffee, he said, “Thanks for taking one for the team.”  I assume he meant, “Thanks for using less gas so the rest of us don’t have to.”  A typical Dallas attitude.

3.  You actually become more intelligent as you drive the Smart Car. Toward the end of my second day with the beast, I traveled to a Barnes and Noble to work on a paper that has been haunting me for some time.  It is one of those papers where you have a general idea of what you would like to write, but you have absolutely no idea where to start.  My topic makes my brain swell and, every time I sit down to write, I end up taking a long nap.  However, after driving the Smart Car for two days, my pen could barely keep up with the thoughts that were pouring out of my hand.  I wrote a five page outline in about thirty minutes, and I’m absolutely convinced that the Smart Car is to blame.  Call it osmosis or, for you skeptics, a placebo effect, but while driving that car I became smarter.  Of course, now that I have been away from it for a couple of days, I’m back to celebrating mediocrity.

4.  People are really bad at math. After two days of driving, I had to go fill up.  I went just over 100 miles and the car took in 2.7 gallons.  Not too shabby, if you ask me.  While I was filling up, a young lady with a thick accent and few teeth came over and asked how much it cost to fill up the car from empty.  I told her I had not yet filled the car from empty, but that I knew it held exactly eight gallons.  Her eyes glazed over and she said, “Oh, and how much would that cost?”  I looked at her and said, “Well, gas is about $4 per gallon right now…”  Her head cocked forward momentarily while she waited for me to finish the equation… “So I guess it would cost around $12 to fill up from empty.”  She squealed with delight, completely unaware that I had just given her the wrong answer to a fairly simple math problem.  I really should not have enjoyed the experience as much as I did, but I honestly could not help myself.

Another Post Concerning Air Travel

I’m beginning to notice a theme here…whenever I get on a plane, I feel like writing a post.  I suppose this is a good thing, mostly because I have steered away from consistent posting.  Ah well, c’est la vie.

Some thoughts about my most recent trip back to Dallas.

1.  When I was a kid, the employees at the x-ray machine were nice to children.  They used to invite me behind the screen to look at the insides of my bags.  I loved every second of it.  Now, children are probably trafficking bombs or guns.  They are perhaps even more suspect than we are.  The other day, in the Milwaukee airport, I actually saw a security guard tell a 4 year old to spread their legs and hold their arms out wide.  It made me want to throw up.

2.  When I was a kid, water was not believed to be hazardous to anyone, unless of course you were drowning in it.  Carrying a bottle of water in your bag or hand was never a problem, and in fact people actually thought highly of you for being so health-conscious.  The last time I went through security, I had a bottle of water stashed away in my carry-on bag.  No, it wasn’t on purpose…I always carry a bottle of water with me…I’m often thirsty.  Upon spotting it on x-ray, the henchman at the end of the conveyer belt opened my bag and removed the water.  He held it up in front of me and asked, “Were you going to tell me about this?”  I answered simply, “no,” but I felt like saying, “Of course I wasn’t going to tell you about that…I was just going to blow up the plane with it.”  Lets take a step back and ask ourselves if it is really necessary to restrict the liquids in our life.  I think we will probably discover that it is not.

3.  Midwest airlines is still the best.  My flights lately have been too early for freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, but that is ok.  When the drink cart came by, I asked for a coffee.  When the flight attendant gave me a cup, I said thank you.  He responded, “NO!  Thank you for being here!”  I’m not sure what that means, but it was nice to encounter an airline employee who doesn’t put off the “i’m serving your drink but I’m also plotting your death/my suicide.”

Thus ends the latest air travel musing.  Cheers.

Memorial Day: Look Forward As Well

For the past couple of years, I’ve been a bit conflicted about Memorial Day as a national holiday. Every year, millions of Americans take the day off and enjoy being able to do so. This is not, by any means, a bad thing. We should be reminded of those things that we take for granted; having a job, taking time off from that job, being able to travel on the highway without significant fear of being roadblocked and robbed at gunpoint. Our country, however flawed it might by, affords us certain privileges that we all too often forget.

So, my conflict does not come from questions of whether or not we should enjoy our freedom. What is not to enjoy? As well, in keeping with the holiday, remembering those who have died for our freedom is not a bad thing.

My conflict concerning memorial day comes mostly from what we have made out of it in recent years. It has become a sort of military pride celebration in which we not only remember those who have died in the past, but we glorify (perhaps even deify) the wars that killed them. Memorial Day is a day for celebrating freedom as well as for remembering who we have to thank for it. However, as we celebrate, perhaps we should also look to the future and think of ways to prevent more from dying.

Glorifying the military might of the United States can be a dangerous thing. Yes, we have fought wars in the past that have been for the greater good, and we have done so with the greatest intentions. However, we forget that, while we continue to enjoy freedom, our wars have transformed functioning nations into ruined police states. We do not fight wars on our own turf, and thus it may be difficult to remember that we are elsewhere taking freedom away from persons who deserve it as much as we do.

So, on this Memorial Day, let us indeed remember those who have died and let us continue to support those who volunteer for service, but let us also try and imagine a world characterized by peace rather than by war. Let us imagine a world where armies become unnecessary, or at least a world in which they are bored and can find absolutely nothing to do. On this Memorial Day, let us remember those who have fallen, but let us work towards a world in which others will not.

Vanity of Vanities!

I really love French pressed coffee…a lot!  On those rare mornings that I don’t have to rush out the door, I look forward to actually putting a little work into my coffee instead of simply pushing a button and letting the machine do the rest.  Just today, I thought to myself, “Hey, I should get a larger French press.”  My 8-cupper just isn’t cutting it these days.  So, I went to investigate, and I found an impulse item that far surpasses any other as far as uselessness is concerned…a 4 minute timer made specifically for your French press.

I mean, come on…the only thing this timer will do is count down from 4 minutes and then beep.  Need to set a timer for 4.5 minutes?  Sorry, can’t help you.  I do realize that the entire coffee industry is built around selling you accessories that you don’t really need, ie water filters, special scoops, flavored powders, but this is really getting ridiculous.  Go buy a regular timer that can be used for periods longer or shorter than 4 minutes.  For that matter, use the timer on your microwave.  Purchasing a 4 minute timer for your French press is not unlike purchasing a coffee mug that can only be held with your left hand.  For that matter, it is not unlike purchasing an alarm clock that will only sound at 6:31 am.  I challenge anyone to defend this product to me.  I need a nap.

When Does It End????

I’m not sure if you can make out the picture posted above, but it is indeed a bill for 76 cents. I received it via e-mail this morning from the Theology department at Marquette, where I go to school. As if I don’t give them enough money as it is?  Also, on a side note, I know for a fact that I didn’t make any copies on their machine.  I know this because I don’t even have a billing code.  I might need to talk with someone about this.

Exhausted

Over the past week or so, I’ve found myself with very little energy. This is unusual, especially since the snow has melted and the weather has finally become habitable again. Even with the climatic improvements, I still find myself with a total lack of motivation and drive.

Perhaps it is because the end of the semester is looming in the near future and I’m just waiting out the next two weeks?

Perhaps it is because I’ve got 60 pages worth of writing to do before the school year ends?

Perhaps it is because the coffee beans I last purchased were mislabeled and are actually decaf?

All of these are possibilities, only the last one warrants a beating. Whatever the cause of my slothfulness may be, I find myself lately in a funk that is proving difficult to get out of. There is really no point to this post, it is simply one more way I have chosen to procrastinate. OK, back to work.