WAG - After a long, busy day at the Missourian, my centerpiece article, which was scheduled for Thursday, won't go in tomorrow.
I wrote two other articles today and I got to go on a Wal-Mart run, where I stocked up on candy and cereal (for the record, I spend more on the healthy food than I did on the junk food) and I also got a neato-cool frog magnet.
My roomate had a better day. I've mentioned before that he's a big sports nut. When the team is up, he's up; when the team is down, we don't talk about it.
Anyway, MU bested #3 Oklahoma tonight at the Hearnes Center. He and Aaron from down the hall had killer seats and were part of the home crowd that stormed the court.
They hung out near the enterance of the Tiger's locker room and were one of the first to slap high-fives and celebrate with the players.
"I touched Ricky Clemon's cast!" said Tyler.
"I got Ricky Paulding sweat on me!" said Aaron.
They were definately pumped this evening. They even got excited when watching highlights on TV, especially when they could pick themselves out on the screen.
"WE WERE ON ESPN! WE WERE ON ESPN!" they cheered running up and down the hall.
Life is never boring in the dorm; and boy do I love it.
Wednesday, February 26, 2003
10:46 PM -
Tuesday, February 25, 2003
6:16 PM -
WAG - Ug...
It's a sure sign that it's really cold outside when you get an ice cream headache simply from crosing campus.
Ug!
I appologize for not writing yesterday. It was a big day. So was this one, so I won't tell any big stories now, other than say how proud of myself I am that I finally sent the email I compossed last week.
Stupid short attenti...
Ooo! Shiny stapler!
Anyway, to do a quick run down:
Woke up to find feather pillow had burst in the night.
Saw my big observatory story had made it to the front page of the Missourian, top fold.
Got an email saying my dad had survived his mission trip and was getting back from Africa.
Found out my story was picked up the the AP wire (they cut it to hell, made it biased against MU, and didn't give me a by-line, but still, I was picked up by the AP).
Skipped class for the first time, but not before having a delightful conversation with the teacher of the class (who didn't realize I was a member of her class; at least I don't think).
Got to go out to a creek in the freezing cold and do a photo-op for a story about tree planting going in on Thursday.
Got credit for having one of the best stories dug up on my own, at least of my editors head (though he wasn't thinking very hard), at the news meeting.
Got to eat the most perfect desert sent from heaven (and transported by the Peter the Hall Coordinator/Saint) at the Hatch Council meeting.
Went to bed before midnight; though I'd have to get up early to do homework.
And best yet, got to sleep before midnight.
Even though I had to deal with a couple extra feathers, and I have a lot of homework to do tonight, and an all new "Smallville" episode to watch-with Christopher Reed in it, it's been a good week so far.
After all, it's like my roomate says, "When you start your week with a busted feather pillow, you know your week's gonna be interesting."
It's a sure sign that it's really cold outside when you get an ice cream headache simply from crosing campus.
Ug!
I appologize for not writing yesterday. It was a big day. So was this one, so I won't tell any big stories now, other than say how proud of myself I am that I finally sent the email I compossed last week.
Stupid short attenti...
Ooo! Shiny stapler!
Anyway, to do a quick run down:
Woke up to find feather pillow had burst in the night.
Saw my big observatory story had made it to the front page of the Missourian, top fold.
Got an email saying my dad had survived his mission trip and was getting back from Africa.
Found out my story was picked up the the AP wire (they cut it to hell, made it biased against MU, and didn't give me a by-line, but still, I was picked up by the AP).
Skipped class for the first time, but not before having a delightful conversation with the teacher of the class (who didn't realize I was a member of her class; at least I don't think).
Got to go out to a creek in the freezing cold and do a photo-op for a story about tree planting going in on Thursday.
Got credit for having one of the best stories dug up on my own, at least of my editors head (though he wasn't thinking very hard), at the news meeting.
Got to eat the most perfect desert sent from heaven (and transported by the Peter the Hall Coordinator/Saint) at the Hatch Council meeting.
Went to bed before midnight; though I'd have to get up early to do homework.
And best yet, got to sleep before midnight.
Even though I had to deal with a couple extra feathers, and I have a lot of homework to do tonight, and an all new "Smallville" episode to watch-with Christopher Reed in it, it's been a good week so far.
After all, it's like my roomate says, "When you start your week with a busted feather pillow, you know your week's gonna be interesting."
Sunday, February 23, 2003
8:57 PM -
WAG - I'm sorry the post from yesterday got cut short. I was going to share some more associations (isn't it scary that I actually think that way), but I got distracted by some entertaining events.
A recent activity that has developed at the desk is taking rubber bands from the mail room, and we've got a bunch of them, and slowly turning them into a mondo rubber band ball.
Currently it's the size of a medium softball, but the important thing is that we have a tray covered in rubber bands on a table at the desk. Yesterday, a friend of mine started making a long rubber band chain. My boss showed up and joking suggested ways we could use it.
The propossal was made that we could use the chain to block the door of Hall Coordinator; convienently located next to the desk. Things accelerated from there. The suggestion was made to use the chain like a criss-cross spider's web. Extra chains, a sign that read "You've ensnared our hearts," and a tiny smiling paper spider were all quickly fashioned.
The work force grew as more staff members, or random people from the dorm, joined the group. Soon, there was a perfect web sat in front of the door. The problem was, we didn't know for sure where the Hall Coordinator was.
Human nature is a funny thing. When a stunt is pulled, people want to be around to see people react to their handiwork. Sometimes that is a foolish thing. People often get caught because they want to see the reaction. How many times have you figgured out who tapped you on the shoulder by seeing who "sneaks" a peak back in your direction (and don't forget the smirk planted on their face)? Too many to count.
Of course, if it's a good joke, it doesn't matter whether one is caught or not.
Anyway, so there we are, sitting on a killer practical joke with the target's location unknown. We decide to call the phone in the apartment/office after the front desk was cleared up from the computer lab.
So imagine the scene: there are five people gathered in a dark computer lab gazing out the door at the decorated door. I'm the shortest one of the group, so I'm actually perched on a chair overlooking everyone. Peter, the HC, picks up his phone and agrees to meet someone outside at the desk. The trap is set.
The look on his face when he opens the doors is absolutely priceless. As he gazes at the web that surrounds him, he notes the sign and the spider and cracks up.
He later said it took him a few seconds to realized it what had happened. The fact there was no one in sight threw him off.
Peter said first reaction was that he was trapped. He was then upset that he wouldn't able to meet the staff member, who was cracking up in the dark. Then he read the note and started laughing himself.
He said when he saw the spider it was like it was saying "Ha ha ha! I can move about freely, but you are trapped. Hee hee hee!" Peter did try negotiate the web, but he couldn't quite contort his way out.
He also had fun waving at people as they started at him as they walked by. His comments ranged from "How ya doin'?" to "Help me! I'm caught!"
Peter finally shut his door, which was the signal for all of us to pour out of the computer lab and continue laughing. Peter eventually came out and said "This is pretty funny. I would have expected something like this at Halloween, but now... This is pretty funny."
Peter was reluntant to tear down the web, and it stayed up till morning. Staff members may get bashed for being too serious and never having any fun. The next time I hear that I'm going to smile think of a little black spider hanging on the web in front of Peter's door.
Then I'll meekly agree with the group, because I have low self-esteem and conform under pressure, but that's a whole different story.
A recent activity that has developed at the desk is taking rubber bands from the mail room, and we've got a bunch of them, and slowly turning them into a mondo rubber band ball.
Currently it's the size of a medium softball, but the important thing is that we have a tray covered in rubber bands on a table at the desk. Yesterday, a friend of mine started making a long rubber band chain. My boss showed up and joking suggested ways we could use it.
The propossal was made that we could use the chain to block the door of Hall Coordinator; convienently located next to the desk. Things accelerated from there. The suggestion was made to use the chain like a criss-cross spider's web. Extra chains, a sign that read "You've ensnared our hearts," and a tiny smiling paper spider were all quickly fashioned.
The work force grew as more staff members, or random people from the dorm, joined the group. Soon, there was a perfect web sat in front of the door. The problem was, we didn't know for sure where the Hall Coordinator was.
Human nature is a funny thing. When a stunt is pulled, people want to be around to see people react to their handiwork. Sometimes that is a foolish thing. People often get caught because they want to see the reaction. How many times have you figgured out who tapped you on the shoulder by seeing who "sneaks" a peak back in your direction (and don't forget the smirk planted on their face)? Too many to count.
Of course, if it's a good joke, it doesn't matter whether one is caught or not.
Anyway, so there we are, sitting on a killer practical joke with the target's location unknown. We decide to call the phone in the apartment/office after the front desk was cleared up from the computer lab.
So imagine the scene: there are five people gathered in a dark computer lab gazing out the door at the decorated door. I'm the shortest one of the group, so I'm actually perched on a chair overlooking everyone. Peter, the HC, picks up his phone and agrees to meet someone outside at the desk. The trap is set.
The look on his face when he opens the doors is absolutely priceless. As he gazes at the web that surrounds him, he notes the sign and the spider and cracks up.
He later said it took him a few seconds to realized it what had happened. The fact there was no one in sight threw him off.
Peter said first reaction was that he was trapped. He was then upset that he wouldn't able to meet the staff member, who was cracking up in the dark. Then he read the note and started laughing himself.
He said when he saw the spider it was like it was saying "Ha ha ha! I can move about freely, but you are trapped. Hee hee hee!" Peter did try negotiate the web, but he couldn't quite contort his way out.
He also had fun waving at people as they started at him as they walked by. His comments ranged from "How ya doin'?" to "Help me! I'm caught!"
Peter finally shut his door, which was the signal for all of us to pour out of the computer lab and continue laughing. Peter eventually came out and said "This is pretty funny. I would have expected something like this at Halloween, but now... This is pretty funny."
Peter was reluntant to tear down the web, and it stayed up till morning. Staff members may get bashed for being too serious and never having any fun. The next time I hear that I'm going to smile think of a little black spider hanging on the web in front of Peter's door.
Then I'll meekly agree with the group, because I have low self-esteem and conform under pressure, but that's a whole different story.
Saturday, February 22, 2003
10:00 PM -
WAG - Here's a cool game, pick a topic, then list the next 5 things that come to mind. Go!
War: Bombs - Tanks - Hulk - Eric Bana - Jennifer Connelly
Explanation: Com'on! Anyone who has seen the expanded trailer for the Hulk has to admit the clip where the Hulk flings a tank into the sunset it pretty cool. And Jennifer Connelly looks good too.
Doves: Birds - Wings - Barbeque - Grill - George Foreman
Explanation: Halfway through, I had a vision of buffalo wings and who is a more famous griller than George Foreman?
Abraham Lincoln - Top Hat - Rabbit - Magician - Houdini - Dead
Explanation [this is a bit more complex, so let me explain it step by step]: Abe's tall hat sprung to mind faster than the log cabin, which led to the classic illusionist's trick, which lead to Houdini who was famous, in his day, for spotlighting fake mediums or spiritualists-those who claimed to contact with "those who have gone on beyond..." Personally, I wish Houdini was still with us just to see him tear in Miss Cleo.
War: Bombs - Tanks - Hulk - Eric Bana - Jennifer Connelly
Explanation: Com'on! Anyone who has seen the expanded trailer for the Hulk has to admit the clip where the Hulk flings a tank into the sunset it pretty cool. And Jennifer Connelly looks good too.
Doves: Birds - Wings - Barbeque - Grill - George Foreman
Explanation: Halfway through, I had a vision of buffalo wings and who is a more famous griller than George Foreman?
Abraham Lincoln - Top Hat - Rabbit - Magician - Houdini - Dead
Explanation [this is a bit more complex, so let me explain it step by step]: Abe's tall hat sprung to mind faster than the log cabin, which led to the classic illusionist's trick, which lead to Houdini who was famous, in his day, for spotlighting fake mediums or spiritualists-those who claimed to contact with "those who have gone on beyond..." Personally, I wish Houdini was still with us just to see him tear in Miss Cleo.
Friday, February 21, 2003
8:01 AM -
WAG - So tired...
So little sleep....
So few aliens killled...
So many more to take out on behalf of mankind...
Too much time spent playing Halo last night...
So little sleep....
So few aliens killled...
So many more to take out on behalf of mankind...
Too much time spent playing Halo last night...
Saturday, February 15, 2003
8:42 PM -
WAG - Spending a Saturday night with your buddies: Free
A trip to the dining hall: Free (if your parents pay for your meal plan)
Picking up a package slip from the dorm mailboxes: Free
Turning in a package slip to receive your delivery: Free
The look on a dude's face when he sees he was sent a I-Love-You-Cookie-Gram-Basket while his buddies crack up laughing: PRICELESS.
Lesson learned: If your package slip actually has the words "Cookie-Gram" writen at the bottom of it, pick it up by yourself. Or at least, don't be so surprised.
A trip to the dining hall: Free (if your parents pay for your meal plan)
Picking up a package slip from the dorm mailboxes: Free
Turning in a package slip to receive your delivery: Free
The look on a dude's face when he sees he was sent a I-Love-You-Cookie-Gram-Basket while his buddies crack up laughing: PRICELESS.
Lesson learned: If your package slip actually has the words "Cookie-Gram" writen at the bottom of it, pick it up by yourself. Or at least, don't be so surprised.
8:33 PM -
WAG -You know, in hindsight, it’s not surprising that St. Valentine was a martyr.
Hello folks, and welcome to a slightly belated February 14 Update.
Hi, I’m your host Caleb Smith. Please allow me to guide you through my series of observations of the beloved and beloathed holiday.
February 14 is one of those holidays you either ignore, love, or have to spend a lot of money celebrating it so you’d BETTER FREEKIN’ ENJOY IT!
I experienced Valentine’s Day as a single person for one of the first times in the last two years. From this position, it was a relief to know that all the money I spent yesterday was spent on myself (well, accepting the $5 bucks I lent to a friend at Taco Bell, but you know what I mean).
On my trek across campus yesterday, it was entertaining to see the number of guys clutching balloons, fresh flowers, and heart-shaped boxes of candy. It was even more entertaining realizing how few of them wore an accompanying smile.
As one person walked past the bookstore, a buddy hollered at him poking fun at the TWO bouquets he was lugging.
“I hate this holiday!” he called back to his friend; hoping to retain a grasp on his masculinity.
But it was too late.
He originally lost hold when he opened his wallet and slammed his money down on the counter.
Guys get hit hard on Valentine’s Day, but not due to the gifts they have to buy and stick in heart shaped boxes wrapped in red wrapping paper and topped with a bow. It’s not tied to finding the perfect gift that had better not come from Wal-Mart. And it’s not the hours spent looking for a card with the right message (ACTUAL THOUGHT-PROCESSES PEOPLE GO THRU: “Do I get a card that has the word ‘Love’ in or do keep searching for one that isn’t that serious?” “Do I get a card that has some lovey-dovey poem thing or a cutesy card?” “Should I just get a blank card with a teddy bear picture on the front and compose my own stupid insightful message?” “What about ‘Luv’? I mean, if it’s mispelled doesn’t that mean it’s not that serious? Right?” and my personal favorite “HOW THE HELL CAN HALLMARK GET AWAY WITH CHARGING $2.78 FOR THIS THIN PIECE OF POSTERBOARD?” [I don’t mean to solely trash guys with this, because I know some ladies who have gone through the same mental deliberations]).
Guys get hurt because they’re expected to foot most of the bill on V-Day.
I had a nice short talk in the elevator with a guy who had flowers, a wrapped present, and a two heart shaped balloons. We joked about how the guy spends $20+, or more if he’s smart, and the girls can get away with sending just a card; and that’s just the presents.
Ladies, be honest, what would think of the guy who asked you to chip in for the movie or the meal on Valentine’s Day? I rest my case.
Well, being single meant I got to save my money; or at least spend it on myself.
Yesterday I got to celebrate a parallel-holiday I first learned about last year, but wasn’t allowed to participate in: Singles Awareness Day, or SAD.
I know some people who planned to celebrate SAD by watching painting their nails, watching SAD movies alone, and crying.
My goal was not to take it so depressing an extreme.
Personally, I went out with 4 friends to see "Daredevil" this weekend. All the high-minded, classy movie reviewers had panned it, so I knew it would be good (in the cheesy way I was looking for). Of the group of 5, 2 were a couple and the other three were single. Of the three singles, two were guys and one was, the only other option, a girl.
The girl offered to be kind enough to let the other two guys pay her way to the movie, so they could claim to be taking someone out, but we both declined.
There can be something rewarding in saying, “ONE ticket for Daredevil please.”
Anyway, the movie was good (not many explosions actually, but lots of slow-motion fighting, and as a friend noted, the leads all looked good in leather [though when Ben Affleck was looking all pensive in the rain, I couldn’t help thinking that the water really couldn’t be good for the outfit]). As we started to file out of the theater at 11:50, the comment was made that in 10 minutes it would be okay to be single again.
That sparked a discussion how being single isn’t a bad thing. I’m not jealously bitter of those who do have a significant other. I also wouldn’t be opposed to having one either (or them having me), though it seems I would really need to finish the semester first for fear of driving two people insane.
I know a person who violently touts the advantages of being single. She scares me.
She had an ugly breakup once, and let’s just say she has yet to cope well.
I don’t want to turn into her, but she does make some good points:
One doesn’t need to have a boyfriend or girlfriend to be happy, successful, or content.
A person without a boyfriend or girlfriend can still go out by themselves and have fun.
All men are the DEVIL!
Okay, I may not agree about the last one, but the fundamental message is solid: being single is okay.
Being St. Valentine, on the other hand, is hard.
To jump back to the history lesson I started this entry with (“You know, in hindsight, it’s not surprising that St. Valentine was a martyr,” for those of you who are too lazy to scroll up to the screen [though I thank you for sticking it out this far]), let’s have a brief profile on the venerated Valentine.
According to a site I plagiarized heavily from, St. Valentine, or Valentinus had a rough life.
He was a Christian priest who was best known for marrying other Christians in secret, because getting married in a heathen temple wasn’t really an option. Giving any aid to Christians during that time often earned one an automatic execution served up by the Romans, the grand champions of killing.
He was caught and kept in jail for a year. When Claudius the II, the emperor, visited, Valentinus witnessed to him and tried to get him to denounce the Roman gods. The emperor wasn’t convinced, but he was impressed enough to offer Valentinus life if he would swap sides and pledge allegiance to the Roman gods.
Tradition states that Valentinus’s reply was as follows: “I say of thy gods none other thing but that they were men mortal and merchant, and full of odure and evil."
Not surprisingly, very shortly after he slammed the emperor, he was delivered to the Roman executioners who beat him with clubs, stoned him, and finally lopped off his head.
As my friend RJ says, “And that’s why you don’t mess with Italians!”
Anyway, a couple hundred years later, when Christianity became more widespread (partially due to the fact people weren’t executed as often for practicing it), church leaders where looking for a Christian holiday. Lucky St.Valentine was selected as the patron of love. An annual banquet was established, and several hundred years later the Hallmark cartel forces guys to spend ridiculous amounts of money to demonstrate their “love” all in Valentinus’s name.
I’m sure he’d be pleased.
And if you think that was rough, you should check out some of St. Valentine’s more recent adventures.
CNN reported that a fragment of St. Valentine’s skull was finally returned to the basilica from which it had been stolen 24 years ago.
He’s honored, respected, dead, and still can’t catch a break. Maybe with this piece returned he can get some peace.
Okay. That’s a foul. I apologize to Valentinus for the cheap shot, but he’s taken much worse, so he can handle it.
Here’s to you Valentinus, and I wish you much a well deserved break from poor puns and the curses poor, frustrated boyfriends guys lay upon your name.
At least for another year.
Thank you for getting this far, and have a good day.
Hello folks, and welcome to a slightly belated February 14 Update.
Hi, I’m your host Caleb Smith. Please allow me to guide you through my series of observations of the beloved and beloathed holiday.
February 14 is one of those holidays you either ignore, love, or have to spend a lot of money celebrating it so you’d BETTER FREEKIN’ ENJOY IT!
I experienced Valentine’s Day as a single person for one of the first times in the last two years. From this position, it was a relief to know that all the money I spent yesterday was spent on myself (well, accepting the $5 bucks I lent to a friend at Taco Bell, but you know what I mean).
On my trek across campus yesterday, it was entertaining to see the number of guys clutching balloons, fresh flowers, and heart-shaped boxes of candy. It was even more entertaining realizing how few of them wore an accompanying smile.
As one person walked past the bookstore, a buddy hollered at him poking fun at the TWO bouquets he was lugging.
“I hate this holiday!” he called back to his friend; hoping to retain a grasp on his masculinity.
But it was too late.
He originally lost hold when he opened his wallet and slammed his money down on the counter.
Guys get hit hard on Valentine’s Day, but not due to the gifts they have to buy and stick in heart shaped boxes wrapped in red wrapping paper and topped with a bow. It’s not tied to finding the perfect gift that had better not come from Wal-Mart. And it’s not the hours spent looking for a card with the right message (ACTUAL THOUGHT-PROCESSES PEOPLE GO THRU: “Do I get a card that has the word ‘Love’ in or do keep searching for one that isn’t that serious?” “Do I get a card that has some lovey-dovey poem thing or a cutesy card?” “Should I just get a blank card with a teddy bear picture on the front and compose my own stupid insightful message?” “What about ‘Luv’? I mean, if it’s mispelled doesn’t that mean it’s not that serious? Right?” and my personal favorite “HOW THE HELL CAN HALLMARK GET AWAY WITH CHARGING $2.78 FOR THIS THIN PIECE OF POSTERBOARD?” [I don’t mean to solely trash guys with this, because I know some ladies who have gone through the same mental deliberations]).
Guys get hurt because they’re expected to foot most of the bill on V-Day.
I had a nice short talk in the elevator with a guy who had flowers, a wrapped present, and a two heart shaped balloons. We joked about how the guy spends $20+, or more if he’s smart, and the girls can get away with sending just a card; and that’s just the presents.
Ladies, be honest, what would think of the guy who asked you to chip in for the movie or the meal on Valentine’s Day? I rest my case.
Well, being single meant I got to save my money; or at least spend it on myself.
Yesterday I got to celebrate a parallel-holiday I first learned about last year, but wasn’t allowed to participate in: Singles Awareness Day, or SAD.
I know some people who planned to celebrate SAD by watching painting their nails, watching SAD movies alone, and crying.
My goal was not to take it so depressing an extreme.
Personally, I went out with 4 friends to see "Daredevil" this weekend. All the high-minded, classy movie reviewers had panned it, so I knew it would be good (in the cheesy way I was looking for). Of the group of 5, 2 were a couple and the other three were single. Of the three singles, two were guys and one was, the only other option, a girl.
The girl offered to be kind enough to let the other two guys pay her way to the movie, so they could claim to be taking someone out, but we both declined.
There can be something rewarding in saying, “ONE ticket for Daredevil please.”
Anyway, the movie was good (not many explosions actually, but lots of slow-motion fighting, and as a friend noted, the leads all looked good in leather [though when Ben Affleck was looking all pensive in the rain, I couldn’t help thinking that the water really couldn’t be good for the outfit]). As we started to file out of the theater at 11:50, the comment was made that in 10 minutes it would be okay to be single again.
That sparked a discussion how being single isn’t a bad thing. I’m not jealously bitter of those who do have a significant other. I also wouldn’t be opposed to having one either (or them having me), though it seems I would really need to finish the semester first for fear of driving two people insane.
I know a person who violently touts the advantages of being single. She scares me.
She had an ugly breakup once, and let’s just say she has yet to cope well.
I don’t want to turn into her, but she does make some good points:
One doesn’t need to have a boyfriend or girlfriend to be happy, successful, or content.
A person without a boyfriend or girlfriend can still go out by themselves and have fun.
All men are the DEVIL!
Okay, I may not agree about the last one, but the fundamental message is solid: being single is okay.
Being St. Valentine, on the other hand, is hard.
To jump back to the history lesson I started this entry with (“You know, in hindsight, it’s not surprising that St. Valentine was a martyr,” for those of you who are too lazy to scroll up to the screen [though I thank you for sticking it out this far]), let’s have a brief profile on the venerated Valentine.
According to a site I plagiarized heavily from, St. Valentine, or Valentinus had a rough life.
He was a Christian priest who was best known for marrying other Christians in secret, because getting married in a heathen temple wasn’t really an option. Giving any aid to Christians during that time often earned one an automatic execution served up by the Romans, the grand champions of killing.
He was caught and kept in jail for a year. When Claudius the II, the emperor, visited, Valentinus witnessed to him and tried to get him to denounce the Roman gods. The emperor wasn’t convinced, but he was impressed enough to offer Valentinus life if he would swap sides and pledge allegiance to the Roman gods.
Tradition states that Valentinus’s reply was as follows: “I say of thy gods none other thing but that they were men mortal and merchant, and full of odure and evil."
Not surprisingly, very shortly after he slammed the emperor, he was delivered to the Roman executioners who beat him with clubs, stoned him, and finally lopped off his head.
As my friend RJ says, “And that’s why you don’t mess with Italians!”
Anyway, a couple hundred years later, when Christianity became more widespread (partially due to the fact people weren’t executed as often for practicing it), church leaders where looking for a Christian holiday. Lucky St.Valentine was selected as the patron of love. An annual banquet was established, and several hundred years later the Hallmark cartel forces guys to spend ridiculous amounts of money to demonstrate their “love” all in Valentinus’s name.
I’m sure he’d be pleased.
And if you think that was rough, you should check out some of St. Valentine’s more recent adventures.
CNN reported that a fragment of St. Valentine’s skull was finally returned to the basilica from which it had been stolen 24 years ago.
He’s honored, respected, dead, and still can’t catch a break. Maybe with this piece returned he can get some peace.
Okay. That’s a foul. I apologize to Valentinus for the cheap shot, but he’s taken much worse, so he can handle it.
Here’s to you Valentinus, and I wish you much a well deserved break from poor puns and the curses poor, frustrated boyfriends guys lay upon your name.
At least for another year.
Thank you for getting this far, and have a good day.
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
9:25 PM -
WAG - Ug...
It's a bad sign when you go to your first class of the day and can do nothing but write down the lyrics to "Working in a Coal Mine."
Lordy, I'm so tired...
How long can this go on?
- Lee Dorsey
On a quick note: Kudos to Annika Sorenstam has accepted an invitation to to play in the Bank of America Colonial Open this May. She will be the first woman to play on the PGA tour in 58 years (the last woman to do so was Babe Zaharias when she played in the 1945 Los Angeles Open).
You can read more about this achivement on the Sports Illustrated website.
It's always nice seeing Sports Illustrated pay a little bit more attention to women who actually keep their shirts on (I'll admit it may catch my eye when going past the newstand, but I've never seen what women posing in swimsuits have to do with sports. Illustrations: yes. Sports: I don't see it).
Any way, good for SI and even bigger congrats for Annika.
You go girl!
Watch out Tiger!
Goodnight all!
It's a bad sign when you go to your first class of the day and can do nothing but write down the lyrics to "Working in a Coal Mine."
Lordy, I'm so tired...
How long can this go on?
- Lee Dorsey
On a quick note: Kudos to Annika Sorenstam has accepted an invitation to to play in the Bank of America Colonial Open this May. She will be the first woman to play on the PGA tour in 58 years (the last woman to do so was Babe Zaharias when she played in the 1945 Los Angeles Open).
You can read more about this achivement on the Sports Illustrated website.
It's always nice seeing Sports Illustrated pay a little bit more attention to women who actually keep their shirts on (I'll admit it may catch my eye when going past the newstand, but I've never seen what women posing in swimsuits have to do with sports. Illustrations: yes. Sports: I don't see it).
Any way, good for SI and even bigger congrats for Annika.
You go girl!
Watch out Tiger!
Goodnight all!
Tuesday, February 11, 2003
10:51 PM -
WAG - Quick note:
On the CNN.com website, there was a caption that said, " Investigators knitting together shuttle 'mosaic.'"
How the hell does one knit tile?
That is one of the worst mixes in metaphors I've seen since the Dilbert cartoon where "The Boss" talked about taking bits of clay and molding a tapestry.
...
Crap! I'm an English nerd...
I'm gonna go read my dictionary and contemplate semantics...
Good night (as in a farewell and a weather observation)...
Crud....
On the CNN.com website, there was a caption that said, " Investigators knitting together shuttle 'mosaic.'"
How the hell does one knit tile?
That is one of the worst mixes in metaphors I've seen since the Dilbert cartoon where "The Boss" talked about taking bits of clay and molding a tapestry.
...
Crap! I'm an English nerd...
I'm gonna go read my dictionary and contemplate semantics...
Good night (as in a farewell and a weather observation)...
Crud....
9:54 PM -
WAG - Note: I'm still alive...for a bit longer anyway.
First off: I’m sorry I haven’t been updating. I’m working on that, or at least I’m working on working on it (I know in a week I’ll be “working on working on working on working on it,” but one must do this one step at a time.
CUE THE RANTING!
I’m aching from a 10-mile hike I took today working on a story for the Missourian (5 miles down the MKT [Katy Trail] and 5 miles back with a backpack on). I have 3 blisters, a drained body, 2 mini-essays to work on, and a job interview early in the morning.
I’m now regretting that 8:00 a.m. call time, but that’s the way things go when you sign up late and are left skimming over the scraps left over.
(For those few people who have occasionally checked back here for updates, I apologize. Things have been crazy. For those people who though 13 credit hours plus the Missourian was a light load, I’d like you all try to pull off an “Atlas” and see how well you do)
For you less-cultured swine (which is a way nicer slam than “uncultured swine,” I’m assuming you’ve had culture, just not enough to totally get the reference. If you did get it, you may go ahead and proceed to the following paragraph), Atlas was the poor giant whose job it was to hold up the sky. Why he didn’t say “Screw it,” drop it, and kill the whole world is beyond me. At least he had job security.
Anyway, things are totally nuts. Actually, I should spell that with a ‘z.’ nutz. It should be capitalized too: NUTZ. Yeah, that’s the best description I can come up with. I think it aptly encompasses the general feelings of frustration, exhilaration, boredom, and non-stop movement I’ve been going through.
Sometimes it’s all I can do to make sure I have the time to call home once a week. No offense meant to Megan if she reads this, but if we hadn’t broken up in December, we’d have had to break up in January.
The push for a couple articles every week is constant. I’m starting to lose weekends to the Missourian (this Friday I spent two hours in an open-air observatory and another hour downtown looking for minors to talk to about a proposed city curfew [at the same time the curfew would go into effect {my editor instructed me to cruise for minors after midnight. I have another editor who tells people to go to bars to get story ideas. If I wasn’t too tired to be corrupted, I’d be in trouble} I didn’t find anyway; which is a good thing, I think. Saturday I spent several hours writing up the story, with a brief stop by the arcade looking for more minors.
In the past week I’ve joked with Columbia’s Mayor, chatted with several Councilmen’s wives, and paged the police chief who was at a barbeque. I’ve seen Saturn’s rings, I’ve met a woman who was in Libya during the 1969 revolution [BEST QUESTION I’VE EVER GOTTEN TO ASK: "Mam, what were you doing in Libya in 1969?" ANSWER: Working for the World Health Organization], and gotten a story on the front page. Things have been busy, but fun.
My pulse is still going, but I’m still having fun. I guess it works out…
I apologize for this blog being more disconnected and disjointed than usual. I’ll work to keep things more organized in the future. My first thought was just to leave you with quips and little thoughts that have come to my mind (“The sun will come up, tomorrow… and so does the Missourian: SO WRITE FASTER!” or “Wait a minute…It’s ante, sana, SQUASH, banana”).
But then I figured without narration, or a little context, it would too NUTZ. I wish you all a good night and a better tomorrow.
For the record, “Ante, sana, squash, banana” is a rhyme Rafiki repeats in the Lion King. Who knows how long that’s been floating around my subconscious?
Good night!
First off: I’m sorry I haven’t been updating. I’m working on that, or at least I’m working on working on it (I know in a week I’ll be “working on working on working on working on it,” but one must do this one step at a time.
CUE THE RANTING!
I’m aching from a 10-mile hike I took today working on a story for the Missourian (5 miles down the MKT [Katy Trail] and 5 miles back with a backpack on). I have 3 blisters, a drained body, 2 mini-essays to work on, and a job interview early in the morning.
I’m now regretting that 8:00 a.m. call time, but that’s the way things go when you sign up late and are left skimming over the scraps left over.
(For those few people who have occasionally checked back here for updates, I apologize. Things have been crazy. For those people who though 13 credit hours plus the Missourian was a light load, I’d like you all try to pull off an “Atlas” and see how well you do)
For you less-cultured swine (which is a way nicer slam than “uncultured swine,” I’m assuming you’ve had culture, just not enough to totally get the reference. If you did get it, you may go ahead and proceed to the following paragraph), Atlas was the poor giant whose job it was to hold up the sky. Why he didn’t say “Screw it,” drop it, and kill the whole world is beyond me. At least he had job security.
Anyway, things are totally nuts. Actually, I should spell that with a ‘z.’ nutz. It should be capitalized too: NUTZ. Yeah, that’s the best description I can come up with. I think it aptly encompasses the general feelings of frustration, exhilaration, boredom, and non-stop movement I’ve been going through.
Sometimes it’s all I can do to make sure I have the time to call home once a week. No offense meant to Megan if she reads this, but if we hadn’t broken up in December, we’d have had to break up in January.
The push for a couple articles every week is constant. I’m starting to lose weekends to the Missourian (this Friday I spent two hours in an open-air observatory and another hour downtown looking for minors to talk to about a proposed city curfew [at the same time the curfew would go into effect {my editor instructed me to cruise for minors after midnight. I have another editor who tells people to go to bars to get story ideas. If I wasn’t too tired to be corrupted, I’d be in trouble} I didn’t find anyway; which is a good thing, I think. Saturday I spent several hours writing up the story, with a brief stop by the arcade looking for more minors.
In the past week I’ve joked with Columbia’s Mayor, chatted with several Councilmen’s wives, and paged the police chief who was at a barbeque. I’ve seen Saturn’s rings, I’ve met a woman who was in Libya during the 1969 revolution [BEST QUESTION I’VE EVER GOTTEN TO ASK: "Mam, what were you doing in Libya in 1969?" ANSWER: Working for the World Health Organization], and gotten a story on the front page. Things have been busy, but fun.
My pulse is still going, but I’m still having fun. I guess it works out…
I apologize for this blog being more disconnected and disjointed than usual. I’ll work to keep things more organized in the future. My first thought was just to leave you with quips and little thoughts that have come to my mind (“The sun will come up, tomorrow… and so does the Missourian: SO WRITE FASTER!” or “Wait a minute…It’s ante, sana, SQUASH, banana”).
But then I figured without narration, or a little context, it would too NUTZ. I wish you all a good night and a better tomorrow.
For the record, “Ante, sana, squash, banana” is a rhyme Rafiki repeats in the Lion King. Who knows how long that’s been floating around my subconscious?
Good night!
Saturday, February 01, 2003
9:48 AM -
WAG - "Oh God..."
February 1, 2003: My generation now has it's Challenger.
Until any more information comes out, what more can be said for done.
February 1, 2003: My generation now has it's Challenger.
Until any more information comes out, what more can be said for done.
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