Updated Monday through Friday.
Short Hiatus
I am temporarily not going to be adding new posts. It's the start of the summer and I'm busy adjusting to life back at home. I'll start new posts again as soon as I'm back in some sort of routine.
Cat Allergy
This is loosely based on a quote from my friend. If you haven't noticed, I've changed the site a little. I'll also no longer be posting on the weekends, so just Monday through Friday nights. The posting schedule could be subject to change when I get a job, we'll see.
Summer Vacation
Deck the halls with "Going to Cali,"
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
'Tis the season to be jolly,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Just Kidding, the kids'll be feral,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
This is a college student's summer carol,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Watch the bonfire ablaze in front of us,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Yell to the heavens, "Finals bore us."
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Free for three months in measure,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Free at last, in ecstatic pleasure,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Watch as the summer quickly passes,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Return us to the Fall semester classes,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Until then, we'll all band together,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Clad in boots and pants of leather,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Note: It's summer, we probably won't be wearing leather, that would be too much heat!
It's summer time and millions, if not thousands of college students will be glad to be on break. Hundreds, maybe even tens of them won't need to get a job and will enjoy their time to the full extent. As for me, it's job hunting season and I'm up against a number of classmates applying to local jobs. Happy breaking, everyone!
Saving Toll Money
Have you ever tried to navigate your route so that you can avoid one extra toll? This is the story of when I tried to do this a few months ago. I have done it since with similar effects.
To accurately navigate to your destination and change it based on certain preferences (ie avoid tolls or highways, etc) then you need to have a working understanding and knowledge of the area. I thought I did. As you will soon find out, I was wrong.
It was Winter Break and I had just gotten a free table and chair set from one town over with my sister. There was a reason why they were free - they were falling apart and one was even missing parts, but college students don't mind when things are free. Soon these chairs and tables would me victimized by vandalism - my house-mates would decorate them with crude graffiti.
After getting these "chairs," or connected pieces of wood, we were going up to my new school that I had transferred to. I had just gotten an off-campus apartment, where it would be the first time I'd be living in my own place (with house-mates) away from home. Woohoo for independence!-ish (my parents were still well within reach and were paying for my place).
The new school was closer and I'd been there a number of times. I was driving a bit of a gas guzzler (back when my car still managed 10-11 miles to the gallon versus it's now 5-6 miles to the gallon) and I'm already cheap so I wanted to use routes that minimized tolls and still maintained the shortest distance.
This meant taking a couple extra highways, but in the end I figured I'd pull ahead at least a few cents. And those few cents matter! You know what I'm talking about, if you've ever driven an extra mile or two to go to a gas station with slightly cheaper gas. And indeed everything worked out, I made it to my destination with little to no problem and pretty quickly too.
You've probably figured out at this point that the problem obviously wasn't the going to my new apartment, it was getting back from it.
My sister and I unloaded my table and chairs and set them up in the living room, making them look operational, and began to head back. At first, everything was going well. The first road was a toll road, but it was essentially unavoidable. I had to be on that road for 45 miles, over half of the journey, and that all went well.
I took my exit. My exit left me with a choice. Nothing so dramatic as the blue pill vs the red pill (if you haven't seen The Matrix, stop reading my blog and go watch it, now!). I could stay on the highway that I just got on, I could transfer to a new highway and stay on that one or I could transfer on a new highway and transfer from there to yet another highway.
The last option, though it sounds the most complicated was the best choice - the one I should have chosen. I didn't want to do that one though because it meant a toll road - the final transfer was onto a highway with a toll. A few months after this story that I'm explaining now, I would take the second option and run into some problems.
But this is the story of taking the first option, to stay on the highway I just got on.
I got on this highway and drove on it for a while. I passed several options to transfer on other highways I was more familiar with, but I was sure that taking this highway would get me to a point only three miles from my house and it would be easiest to just stick with this one.
What I hadn't known at the time, was that the highway I was on, didn't just have a north and a south, but also a west and an east.
I was familiar with the subset of north and south, but I was on this highway going west. I was not familiar at all with this highway, except that occasionally I had used it when I was younger to get to a relative's house. On trips to my relative's house, I wasn't driving, I was a small kid zoned into his gameboy color and I was gonna catch all the Pokemon, gonna catch 'em all. In fact, you could say I was going to be the very best, the best there ever was.
I was driving on the highway for quite a distance when I realized that I was passing town names that I was not familiar with at all and I certainly knew I had been driving long enough to get near my town by this point.
I was not deterred by the increasingly evident fact that I was lost. I persevered!
I kept going, until I had gone another twenty miles and realized that my tank was running low. Really low.
Finally I took an exit that offered a U-turn. I went onto a small side-road and got out my phone. My phone had Google Maps on it so, I figured the GPS could figure out where I was and then direct me home. The problem is that Google Maps only could figure out a general radius of where I might be and figured I was still on the highway a mile down the road.
I figured out how to guesstimate approximately what I should do from the directions it offered. I also figured out that I had a remaining distance that was about five miles further than my car's tank could currently take me. Very simplistically:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------Total Distance
------------------------------------------------------------------ Gas Remaining
I set out and looked for gas stations so that I could put an extra gallon or two to ensure getting back alright. Of course the highway I was on didn't have any rest stops or gas stations along it, so as it turned out I was out of luck.
The directions called for getting onto another highway - the very highway I had thought I was on all along. This is when I realized my blunder. I got off onto another highway that would take me to the highway I thought I was on, but it very soon occurred to me that I desperately needed to go to the bathroom.
I figured a gas station would have a bathroom, but that would require getting to a gas station and as it turned out, there were no gas stations on any of the highways I was going to be on. Almost wherever you are, chances are you're pretty near some gas station. In fact, right now I'm within 100 feet of one. But the gas stations happened to congregate everywhere except where I needed them to be right then. I didn't know this at the time, so I kept my eyes peeled desperately looking for one.
Finally I had to give up. I pulled over and put on my blinkers and made sure my sister paid attention if any cops were coming. I walked into the brush at the side of the road and found a semi-decent coverage and just went for it. It had snowed but I didn't utilize the opportunity to write my name, I just cared about getting everything out.
I got back to the car after zipping up and, relieved, I continued my epic journey back. Eventually I got the the exit that was three miles from my house and there was a gas station there. As it turned out I only had a couple bucks, so I put in just about a gallon and fortunately it was enough to get me back to my house.
I ended up saving fifty cents by avoiding the toll, but using several extra gallons of gas by getting lost from avoiding that toll.
To accurately navigate to your destination and change it based on certain preferences (ie avoid tolls or highways, etc) then you need to have a working understanding and knowledge of the area. I thought I did. As you will soon find out, I was wrong.
It was Winter Break and I had just gotten a free table and chair set from one town over with my sister. There was a reason why they were free - they were falling apart and one was even missing parts, but college students don't mind when things are free. Soon these chairs and tables would me victimized by vandalism - my house-mates would decorate them with crude graffiti.
After getting these "chairs," or connected pieces of wood, we were going up to my new school that I had transferred to. I had just gotten an off-campus apartment, where it would be the first time I'd be living in my own place (with house-mates) away from home. Woohoo for independence!-ish (my parents were still well within reach and were paying for my place).
The new school was closer and I'd been there a number of times. I was driving a bit of a gas guzzler (back when my car still managed 10-11 miles to the gallon versus it's now 5-6 miles to the gallon) and I'm already cheap so I wanted to use routes that minimized tolls and still maintained the shortest distance.
This meant taking a couple extra highways, but in the end I figured I'd pull ahead at least a few cents. And those few cents matter! You know what I'm talking about, if you've ever driven an extra mile or two to go to a gas station with slightly cheaper gas. And indeed everything worked out, I made it to my destination with little to no problem and pretty quickly too.
You've probably figured out at this point that the problem obviously wasn't the going to my new apartment, it was getting back from it.
My sister and I unloaded my table and chairs and set them up in the living room, making them look operational, and began to head back. At first, everything was going well. The first road was a toll road, but it was essentially unavoidable. I had to be on that road for 45 miles, over half of the journey, and that all went well.
I took my exit. My exit left me with a choice. Nothing so dramatic as the blue pill vs the red pill (if you haven't seen The Matrix, stop reading my blog and go watch it, now!). I could stay on the highway that I just got on, I could transfer to a new highway and stay on that one or I could transfer on a new highway and transfer from there to yet another highway.
The last option, though it sounds the most complicated was the best choice - the one I should have chosen. I didn't want to do that one though because it meant a toll road - the final transfer was onto a highway with a toll. A few months after this story that I'm explaining now, I would take the second option and run into some problems.
But this is the story of taking the first option, to stay on the highway I just got on.
I got on this highway and drove on it for a while. I passed several options to transfer on other highways I was more familiar with, but I was sure that taking this highway would get me to a point only three miles from my house and it would be easiest to just stick with this one.
What I hadn't known at the time, was that the highway I was on, didn't just have a north and a south, but also a west and an east.
I was familiar with the subset of north and south, but I was on this highway going west. I was not familiar at all with this highway, except that occasionally I had used it when I was younger to get to a relative's house. On trips to my relative's house, I wasn't driving, I was a small kid zoned into his gameboy color and I was gonna catch all the Pokemon, gonna catch 'em all. In fact, you could say I was going to be the very best, the best there ever was.
I was driving on the highway for quite a distance when I realized that I was passing town names that I was not familiar with at all and I certainly knew I had been driving long enough to get near my town by this point.
I was not deterred by the increasingly evident fact that I was lost. I persevered!
I kept going, until I had gone another twenty miles and realized that my tank was running low. Really low.
Finally I took an exit that offered a U-turn. I went onto a small side-road and got out my phone. My phone had Google Maps on it so, I figured the GPS could figure out where I was and then direct me home. The problem is that Google Maps only could figure out a general radius of where I might be and figured I was still on the highway a mile down the road.
I figured out how to guesstimate approximately what I should do from the directions it offered. I also figured out that I had a remaining distance that was about five miles further than my car's tank could currently take me. Very simplistically:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------Total Distance
------------------------------------------------------------------ Gas Remaining
I set out and looked for gas stations so that I could put an extra gallon or two to ensure getting back alright. Of course the highway I was on didn't have any rest stops or gas stations along it, so as it turned out I was out of luck.
The directions called for getting onto another highway - the very highway I had thought I was on all along. This is when I realized my blunder. I got off onto another highway that would take me to the highway I thought I was on, but it very soon occurred to me that I desperately needed to go to the bathroom.
I figured a gas station would have a bathroom, but that would require getting to a gas station and as it turned out, there were no gas stations on any of the highways I was going to be on. Almost wherever you are, chances are you're pretty near some gas station. In fact, right now I'm within 100 feet of one. But the gas stations happened to congregate everywhere except where I needed them to be right then. I didn't know this at the time, so I kept my eyes peeled desperately looking for one.
Finally I had to give up. I pulled over and put on my blinkers and made sure my sister paid attention if any cops were coming. I walked into the brush at the side of the road and found a semi-decent coverage and just went for it. It had snowed but I didn't utilize the opportunity to write my name, I just cared about getting everything out.
I got back to the car after zipping up and, relieved, I continued my epic journey back. Eventually I got the the exit that was three miles from my house and there was a gas station there. As it turned out I only had a couple bucks, so I put in just about a gallon and fortunately it was enough to get me back to my house.
I ended up saving fifty cents by avoiding the toll, but using several extra gallons of gas by getting lost from avoiding that toll.
Finals
A lot of college students are finishing finals, just finished finals or are about to have finals. These students are on a whole spectrum of feelings (when it is final time for them):
*Note: FactandFict is not responsible for any legal ramifications of "pulling a gun."
A lot of people fall into the red area and get either super stressed about it, or complain as if they were super stressed about it.
I'm somewhere in the blue area. I study and I want to do well on the finals, but it's not exactly the apocalypse, so I pretty sure I'll get through it. I've got a lot on my plate, so I'm looking forward to being all done by mid-Tuesday. Until then, my posts will probably be shorter since I'll only have so much time to devote to them.
Here's a little rhyme to keep you feeling alright if you got some test coming up:
Do your laundry and take a shower,
Study and have fun.
Take your tests, don't cower;
If you don't pass, just pull a gun*.
*Note: FactandFict is not responsible for any legal ramifications of "pulling a gun."
The Clap-er
Note: In case you didn't get it or don't already know, gonorrhea is also known as "the clap."
Water Cooler
The younger of my two cats, Vlad, is positively entranced by the water cooler that my family has at home. As intrigued as he is by it, I am equally amused by his puzzlement.
From what I've observed, he has passed the water cooler on many an occasion, without much care. The truth is, he is pretending not to care.
When I get a cup and walk towards the water cooler, Vlad knows what's going on - at the very least, he knows that the mysterious bubbly thing will soon be activated and the guy who feeds him (me) is about to consume from its innards (drink water).
So when I say Vlad pretends not to care when he passes the water cooler, I mean, he's trying to show the water cooler he is above it, but if it is going to be used, that's another story.
When I get to the water cooler, Vlad will come running - it doesn't matter if he's in a totally different room. He comes sliding in front of me, due to his high velocity, and then skids to a stop and lunges at the water cooler.
Sometimes Vlad just wants to see what's going on, but sometimes he wants to be involved. When he wants to be involved, he bolts into the room, leaps at my cup as I fill it and sends it splashing everywhere for me to clean up.
When Vlad just wants to entertain his bewilderment, he will jump on a high chair near the water cooler, then onto the stackable chairs that are next to the water cooler. Sometimes this jump is poorly calculated and he'll fall to the ground surprised and instantly try to regain access to the spot.
Once Vlad is up on the seats, he just stares at the water cooler as it bubbles and then he'll glance down at my cup as it gets filled, and then back to the bubbles. He just can't help himself.
I wonder what he thinks is going on. He consistently goes to watch it every time I try to use it, even if it means clawing onto me - sticking those little talons into my chest - just to jump closer.
Perhaps I have him incorrectly pegged as a fool, and while he is fixated on the water machine, and I am fixated on him, he has some accomplice get into the food supply and get some snacks. Who knows?
Right now, he's curled up next to me, purring softly, conspiring or day dreaming about the water cooler.
Note To Readers
I normally post every day, but Blogger was down since last night so I couldn't post my comic.
I'm on a different computer so I'll have to upload my comic later when I get on my computer.
I made a twitter account for the blog: http://twitter.com/#!/FactandFict
(@FactandFict) so you can go there to read stuff like funny comments on news articles, when I am not able to post.
Sorry for the inconvenience. If time allows, I'll do two more posts today.
I'm on a different computer so I'll have to upload my comic later when I get on my computer.
I made a twitter account for the blog: http://twitter.com/#!/FactandFict
(@FactandFict) so you can go there to read stuff like funny comments on news articles, when I am not able to post.
Sorry for the inconvenience. If time allows, I'll do two more posts today.
Sticky Fingers
This post is mostly for parents, but still it applies to just about anyone. When someone spills soda, or in some way gets their hands sticky, you need to know how to appropriately handle the situation.
Sticky fingers and hands do not call for a napkin. Don't ever hand a person with sticky fingers a napkin, paper towel, toilet paper, rag, towel, any cloth that isn't wet.
You know what sticky fingers and a napkin combine to make? Sticky fingers with napkin bits attached all over. Same thing happens when something sticky is on the ground. Don't clean it up with a napkin or papertowel because gets what's gonna happen... I'm waiting. You guessed it (or maybe you didn't): you'll have sticky stuff with bits of napkin all stuck to your floor.
But there is a solution. Dampening or wetting the cloth or getting Lysol wipes or something, will actually help you clean up the mess or unsticky-ify your hands. That's right, wetting cloth is so effective, you can make up words like "unsticky-ify" to describe it.
So, whenever there's something that needs cleaning up, you're best getting a wet cloth*.
*Note: This doesn't apply to getting sticky stuff on things like outlets - bring a little common sense into the equation here. Cleaning outlets with wet cloths are just going to send electric currents into your body that you'll have to discharge by use of the force. Take Darth Vader's mentor for instance. He probably cleaned an electrical outlet with a wet cloth and now he keeps shooting lightning out of his hands.
from Google Images
You may think it's cool to shoot lightning out of your hands, but you have to also consider that lightning is bouncing around inside you before it can be discharged, so that's gotta be uncomfortable. Not to mention, what if you discharge the lightning at the wrong time. Say, for instance, you gotta change bulbs because the light burned out and then you accidentally zap the thing with your electric discharge. Now you got two useless bulbs because you shorted the thing.
Not to mention, check out how ugly Palpatine is (Darth Vader's mentor). I mean that dude probably got that way from a) all the built up electric charge in him and b) all the built up anguish from breaking all his lightbulbs.
So, in short: don't use a dry napkin to clean a sticky hand and don't use wet cloth near an outlet lest you'll look like "Mr. Right?"
Sticky fingers and hands do not call for a napkin. Don't ever hand a person with sticky fingers a napkin, paper towel, toilet paper, rag, towel, any cloth that isn't wet.
You know what sticky fingers and a napkin combine to make? Sticky fingers with napkin bits attached all over. Same thing happens when something sticky is on the ground. Don't clean it up with a napkin or papertowel because gets what's gonna happen... I'm waiting. You guessed it (or maybe you didn't): you'll have sticky stuff with bits of napkin all stuck to your floor.
But there is a solution. Dampening or wetting the cloth or getting Lysol wipes or something, will actually help you clean up the mess or unsticky-ify your hands. That's right, wetting cloth is so effective, you can make up words like "unsticky-ify" to describe it.
So, whenever there's something that needs cleaning up, you're best getting a wet cloth*.
*Note: This doesn't apply to getting sticky stuff on things like outlets - bring a little common sense into the equation here. Cleaning outlets with wet cloths are just going to send electric currents into your body that you'll have to discharge by use of the force. Take Darth Vader's mentor for instance. He probably cleaned an electrical outlet with a wet cloth and now he keeps shooting lightning out of his hands.
from Google ImagesYou may think it's cool to shoot lightning out of your hands, but you have to also consider that lightning is bouncing around inside you before it can be discharged, so that's gotta be uncomfortable. Not to mention, what if you discharge the lightning at the wrong time. Say, for instance, you gotta change bulbs because the light burned out and then you accidentally zap the thing with your electric discharge. Now you got two useless bulbs because you shorted the thing.
Not to mention, check out how ugly Palpatine is (Darth Vader's mentor). I mean that dude probably got that way from a) all the built up electric charge in him and b) all the built up anguish from breaking all his lightbulbs.
So, in short: don't use a dry napkin to clean a sticky hand and don't use wet cloth near an outlet lest you'll look like "Mr. Right?"
Peeing In The "Woods"
Have you ever been on a long drive and really had to take a wizz?
We've all been there, many of us may have even pulled to the side of the road, found a hidden spot and let nature take it's course. I can count myself amongst those that have pulled to the side of the road to take a leak.
Sometimes, hard as we may try, we're not always as hidden as we believe.
I used to visit my friend, Danny, every weekend. He lived fifty miles from me, so getting there always took a little over an hour. Often we'd head out around lunch time, so on the way, we'd all get hungry and agree to get fast food.
As usual, I got a burger and a drink, a large drink - large, at least, compared to the size of a human bladder. When it comes to drinking, I'm like a camel in that I drink a lot, but I'm not like a camel in that I can't store it. Camels can drink gallons of water and then go days without drinking because they can store it in the hump on their back. I can drink gallons of water and then go minutes without peeing, but pretty soon it'll catch up to me.
Well, I wolfed down my burger and practically inhaled my entire beverage and sat quite content. When you drink fast, all of your beverage can go through quite quickly and since most beverages are liquid and liquids are digested in 15-20 minutes, whatever you drink will hit your bladder pretty soon.
Now, I mentioned that the trip takes a little over an hour, so you can easily see that 15 minutes is only a small segment of that - a fraction of the time. Having downed the whole beverage quickly, it all hit me at once.
When we got to be about ten minutes or so from my friend's house, I couldn't hold it any longer. I demanded that my mom pull off at the nearest curb that was located next to the woods and I would go relieve myself behind a tree.
After what felt like forever, we finally pulled off into the shoulder of a street we were on and I jumped out of the car and dashed for the woods. I wasn't too picky about what tree I would use, just anything about as thick as me and maybe fifty feet in would do.
All I could focus on was urination and holding back that urination till I found a tree. Being so unaware of my surroundings is what lead to a rather embarrassing situation that I will describe soon.
I found a tree, maybe ten rows of trees in, that would cover me from the road and I unzipped and let waves of relief wash over me as I gave my drink back to nature. When I was just about finished, I shook out the last drops and began to zip up my pants.
Suddenly, from my right, I hear a voice yelling. It's an old man, exiting his house, cane in hand, scolding me.
"How would you like it if I went to your house and peed on your lawn?" the old man yells.
I'm going to break here to tell you a little about where I lived at this time, so you can appreciate what I was imagining when this guy yelled that.
I lived in a highly populated sub-urban town of 40,000 people. I lived on the second floor of a two-family house on one of the five most popular roads. My front yard was small, maybe 10 feet by 10 feet and is clearly visible by anyone and everyone who drives on the road, which on any given day, during most hours when the sun is out, will mean several hundred people in the space of five minutes.
So, as this guy is yelling at me, I am running as fast as my little legs can take me (I'm around twelve or so at the time) and imagining this elderly man, whipping out his tinkler on my front lawn, exposing himself to hundreds of passersby as he just pees gingerly on my lawn.
He waves his cane at me when I turn back to see if he's gaining on me at all (he isn't moving much faster than a turtle). I yell to my mom to open the side door of the mini-van as I come sprinting at it.
My sister hurls it open just in time for me to dive in and shout for my mom to step on it.
The old man never did pee on my lawn to my knowledge, though I'm sure it would've been the talk of the town for some time if he did. Every time since then that I go to Danny's house, I pass that old man's place and think of when I peed on his lawn.
We've all been there, many of us may have even pulled to the side of the road, found a hidden spot and let nature take it's course. I can count myself amongst those that have pulled to the side of the road to take a leak.
Sometimes, hard as we may try, we're not always as hidden as we believe.
I used to visit my friend, Danny, every weekend. He lived fifty miles from me, so getting there always took a little over an hour. Often we'd head out around lunch time, so on the way, we'd all get hungry and agree to get fast food.
As usual, I got a burger and a drink, a large drink - large, at least, compared to the size of a human bladder. When it comes to drinking, I'm like a camel in that I drink a lot, but I'm not like a camel in that I can't store it. Camels can drink gallons of water and then go days without drinking because they can store it in the hump on their back. I can drink gallons of water and then go minutes without peeing, but pretty soon it'll catch up to me.
Well, I wolfed down my burger and practically inhaled my entire beverage and sat quite content. When you drink fast, all of your beverage can go through quite quickly and since most beverages are liquid and liquids are digested in 15-20 minutes, whatever you drink will hit your bladder pretty soon.
Now, I mentioned that the trip takes a little over an hour, so you can easily see that 15 minutes is only a small segment of that - a fraction of the time. Having downed the whole beverage quickly, it all hit me at once.
When we got to be about ten minutes or so from my friend's house, I couldn't hold it any longer. I demanded that my mom pull off at the nearest curb that was located next to the woods and I would go relieve myself behind a tree.
After what felt like forever, we finally pulled off into the shoulder of a street we were on and I jumped out of the car and dashed for the woods. I wasn't too picky about what tree I would use, just anything about as thick as me and maybe fifty feet in would do.
All I could focus on was urination and holding back that urination till I found a tree. Being so unaware of my surroundings is what lead to a rather embarrassing situation that I will describe soon.
I found a tree, maybe ten rows of trees in, that would cover me from the road and I unzipped and let waves of relief wash over me as I gave my drink back to nature. When I was just about finished, I shook out the last drops and began to zip up my pants.
Suddenly, from my right, I hear a voice yelling. It's an old man, exiting his house, cane in hand, scolding me.
"How would you like it if I went to your house and peed on your lawn?" the old man yells.
I'm going to break here to tell you a little about where I lived at this time, so you can appreciate what I was imagining when this guy yelled that.
I lived in a highly populated sub-urban town of 40,000 people. I lived on the second floor of a two-family house on one of the five most popular roads. My front yard was small, maybe 10 feet by 10 feet and is clearly visible by anyone and everyone who drives on the road, which on any given day, during most hours when the sun is out, will mean several hundred people in the space of five minutes.
So, as this guy is yelling at me, I am running as fast as my little legs can take me (I'm around twelve or so at the time) and imagining this elderly man, whipping out his tinkler on my front lawn, exposing himself to hundreds of passersby as he just pees gingerly on my lawn.
He waves his cane at me when I turn back to see if he's gaining on me at all (he isn't moving much faster than a turtle). I yell to my mom to open the side door of the mini-van as I come sprinting at it.
My sister hurls it open just in time for me to dive in and shout for my mom to step on it.
The old man never did pee on my lawn to my knowledge, though I'm sure it would've been the talk of the town for some time if he did. Every time since then that I go to Danny's house, I pass that old man's place and think of when I peed on his lawn.
Happy Mother's Day
Send this to your mom, cause it's easy and shows you thought of her for a couple seconds today.
Violent Sleep
My girlfriend sleeps over at my place a couple times a week. When she goes to bed, she likes to have a glass of water next to her because she gets thirsty as she falls asleep and when she wakes up. Normally I keep my cup several feet from my bed, but on these nights, I move it within arms reach.
When you're tired, anything out of arm's reach is as good as doesn't exist because there's no way you're gonna get to it.
The cup goes flying and water covers the room. She wakes up, probably from hurting her hand in the aggressive cup attacking escapade and gets me to clean it up.
I've learned my lesson at this point. She still needs the water there but now I cover everything near it with cloth to absorb the liquid before anything else can.
Now that her mind understands that it can't knock over the water and cause my sleepy self any grief, she hasn't knocked the water over again. I still cover everything in cloth just in case.
As I look at her now, she's probably plotting her next mode of attack.
Note: She'd like to point out that parts of this were dramatized - she did clean up the water when she falcon punched it, but I don't know if that necessarily precludes her attacking more of my stuff.
When you're tired, anything out of arm's reach is as good as doesn't exist because there's no way you're gonna get to it.
Even if that suitcase will disappear in five minutes, you're just not gonna get it cause it's too far.
Anyway, so I have the water next to the bed so that it's in arm's reach - accessible for my girlfriend.
Well, one night, she forgets that it's there. She swings her legs out and plants her feet next to the bed. She stands up and heads for the door, but not before taking a swing at the cup.
Her foot makes contact and the water spills all over the floor. I wake up and grudgingly clean it up with a towel.
I figure this is a fluke thing. She's slept over a number of times without knocking over the water, chances are she won't do it again. To be safe, I put the cup on the bed-side table so that she doesn't run the risk of kicking it.
I figure, it's elevated, the only problem she could have is dropping it and I doubt that would happen. Well, I was wrong, dropping it was not the only way she could take care of it.
She sleeps over again another night and I set up the cup next to her on the bedside table. She doesn't have any problems with it and eventually we fall asleep.
At some point in the night, some latent need to knock it off the bedside table builds up in her. In her sleep, she punches the cup.
I've learned my lesson at this point. She still needs the water there but now I cover everything near it with cloth to absorb the liquid before anything else can.
Now that her mind understands that it can't knock over the water and cause my sleepy self any grief, she hasn't knocked the water over again. I still cover everything in cloth just in case.
As I look at her now, she's probably plotting her next mode of attack.
Note: She'd like to point out that parts of this were dramatized - she did clean up the water when she falcon punched it, but I don't know if that necessarily precludes her attacking more of my stuff.
Poke Me
I own a shirt, in fact I own many shirts, but there's one specifically I want to focus on. It's blue, similar in color to jeans (dark wash), but soft. On it is the Pillsbury doughboy in a classic pose. If you can't remember what the Pillsbury doughboy is, he's that little white animated figure with a chef's hat, a big grin and a bit of a tummy - in short, look at this picture:
He's the one getting poked if you couldn't put that together.
Anyway, the shirt reads, in big white letters above the picture, "Poke Me" and so we get to the crux of our story. Last year I lived in dorms at another school and one day I wore this shirt.
I am fond of the shirt, I enjoy the fit, the feel and the fabric's colors (blue and white). Since I'm fond of it, I wear it often. I have a number of shirts, many with clever slogans or something or other written on them and so as the days blend and carry on, I always forget what shirt I am wearing. It is crucial to remember that I always forget the shirt that I'm wearing.
On this particular day I'm wearing the shirt and I'm in my dorm, hungry. Next door there is a mini-store/dining hall where I can get $7.50 worth of stuff at each meal, except breakfast ($5.50 at breakfast). It was nearing the end of the lunch time so I wanted to get over next door and get my money's worth before I lost the opportunity and it became dinner time and I'd miss out on the $7.50 for lunch.
It was a bit of a dreary day, it had rained earlier, but even so I went out, in my shirt, a pair of jeans or possibly pajama bottoms, flip flops and socks (I know that they don't go together but darn it I like warm feet!).
My feet look kinda like that except the flip flops are white with a blue design on it and the green thing on that is black on mine. I know what you're thinking: that's definitely the next trend in fashion.
As I walk in next door I get a compliment on my shoes, I thank the person and go to the room where all the food is. I pick out a half personal pie of pizza, a bag of Baked Dorito chips and a drink, probably Fuze. I go to the checkout and since I always have the same combo, I know that it comes out to $7.43 or something in that ballpark.
The food service lady compliments me on my incredible power of picking out four items to total so closely to my limit (as happens every day, with that same lady) and I head back out of the building.
I'm holding my food and push open the door as I leave and a group of three guys is standing off a little to my left, on the grass. As I pass by one of them looks up.
Suddenly he charges me.
I'm cradling a bunch of food in my hands and I don't know what to do. I tell myself that I'll always be prepared if someone tries to mug me and that I'll miraculously be endowed with incredible strength, agility and reflexes and easily take care of the attacker, but in this instance I stood completely petrified.
I didn't budge, I just watched my assailant fly at me with his arm extended. In the blur of action I didn't notice but he had a finger extended towards me which soon finds contact with my stomach, near my solar plexus (ie pain).
I cringe and he jumps back laughing.
"I had to do it," he says, "man."
Had to do it? Had to do what? Inflict pain and bestow terror on a random guy who passes him?
I didn't know what to think. In my confusion I looked down and remembered the shirt I was wearing.
"Poke Me" - apparently I had asked for this. I brought this on myself.
Now whenever there are "poking" wars on facebook, all I can think of is that crazy kid, I didn't know, charging at me arm extended, jabbing me right in the stomach.
By the way, when I realized, I gave him the trademark giggle of the Pillsbury doughboy, got a laugh out of them and then I retreated to my room to nurse my battle wound and eat. I still wear this shirt, often and get pokes (get confused at first), but nothing so drastic - fortunately.
Automatic Toilets
Ever get an automatic toilet flush on you a bunch of times before you were ready? My girlfriend had it flush on her six times once before she made it out of the stall. Share your stories in the comments!
When A Video Store Goes Out Of Business
Blockbuster was going out of business and everyone flocked to their outlets. Large posters announced the sale and nobody could resist the temptation of DVDs for three bucks (dollars - they don't take mules... unfortunately), five bucks, sometimes even just a dollar.
I of course got around to it, about two or three days before they totally closed shop. The sales were as low as they were gonna get, the pickings were slim because many people had already taken what they could and I was there to reap whatever gems might've remained.
The thing is, when things get really cheap, like 80 or 90% off original price, quality of a product doesn't even matter that much.
I bought movies that now weeks later - and plenty of opportunities have offered themselves - I haven't seen any but one that I got. Meanwhile I bought about six.
I didn't start off getting six, at first I got two movies and a lot of popcorn. I'll explain just how much in a moment. At first I only wanted a couple movies because I didn't want to spend too much money, but when I had my wallet open I found a gift card.
Gift cards are awesome. As often as gift cards are, they are even more awesome when you realize you have one and you didn't know before. It's like finding a million dollars except usually it only means $10, maybe $25.
Well I had a $25 gift card so the two movies weren't going to use it all up. The cashier told me that the card wasn't going to be good in two days so I figured it was best to just get more movies.
What I had already gotten was 2 DVDs (total of $4) and 16 things of popcorn - 16! And my total was something in the ballpark of $13.
The following day I returned to use the other half of my gift card. This time I got 4 DVDs, more popcorn, as if 16 wasn't enough and it ended up costing me like fifty cents extra.
I felt like I just spent 50 cents on half a dozen DVDs and a mountain pile of popcorn and I was gonna face weeks of stuffing my face with popcorn and watching movies.
Little did I know that I wasn't going to spend almost any time do that. Life got in the way. I watched one movie and had one popcorn and now I have a closet full of popcorn and movies (and chocolate from Easter and detergent).
Anyway, be wary of the lore of cheap stuff. Sometimes I'll be in a store and just because an item is five cents cheaper, (this sentence is a dramatic exaggeration (it's gotta be at least 10 cents)) I'll get it and then re-discover it months later and eat(or watch) it's deliciousness(deliciousness).
I of course got around to it, about two or three days before they totally closed shop. The sales were as low as they were gonna get, the pickings were slim because many people had already taken what they could and I was there to reap whatever gems might've remained.
The thing is, when things get really cheap, like 80 or 90% off original price, quality of a product doesn't even matter that much.
I bought movies that now weeks later - and plenty of opportunities have offered themselves - I haven't seen any but one that I got. Meanwhile I bought about six.
I didn't start off getting six, at first I got two movies and a lot of popcorn. I'll explain just how much in a moment. At first I only wanted a couple movies because I didn't want to spend too much money, but when I had my wallet open I found a gift card.
Gift cards are awesome. As often as gift cards are, they are even more awesome when you realize you have one and you didn't know before. It's like finding a million dollars except usually it only means $10, maybe $25.
Well I had a $25 gift card so the two movies weren't going to use it all up. The cashier told me that the card wasn't going to be good in two days so I figured it was best to just get more movies.
What I had already gotten was 2 DVDs (total of $4) and 16 things of popcorn - 16! And my total was something in the ballpark of $13.
The following day I returned to use the other half of my gift card. This time I got 4 DVDs, more popcorn, as if 16 wasn't enough and it ended up costing me like fifty cents extra.
I felt like I just spent 50 cents on half a dozen DVDs and a mountain pile of popcorn and I was gonna face weeks of stuffing my face with popcorn and watching movies.
Little did I know that I wasn't going to spend almost any time do that. Life got in the way. I watched one movie and had one popcorn and now I have a closet full of popcorn and movies (and chocolate from Easter and detergent).
Anyway, be wary of the lore of cheap stuff. Sometimes I'll be in a store and just because an item is five cents cheaper, (this sentence is a dramatic exaggeration (it's gotta be at least 10 cents)) I'll get it and then re-discover it months later and eat(or watch) it's deliciousness(deliciousness).
Food Palate
I have a limited palate, so to speak. By most people's standards, the types of food I enjoy eating is limited. I like hamburgers, pizza, pasta, cereal and any meat sandwich. Before you read much further, by meat sandwich, I mean most breads with any meat, American cheese (can be cheddar or a few others) and some mayo - that's it.
People consider this limited because I exclude essentially all vegetables and a number of fruit from my palate (with the exception of banana (technically an herb), apples (technically a non-fruit - look it up) and oranges).
For anyone who's read this far and doesn't know what palate means: a person's food preferences.
You may call it limited, but I call it knowing what I like. Just because you can't enjoy having burgers for every meal, weeks in a row, doesn't mean I can't. I enjoy it and I know how to keep healthy with it.
The key is vitamins and good drinks (ie Naked Juice (not a euphemism)) and not overdoing it. Although I've done it a number of times, a double, but especially a triple whopper for one meal is overdoing it.
With moderation and supplements, chances are you'll be just as good as everyone else even with a so-called "limited palate".
Forcing kids to eat vegetables is just gonna give them fuel to resent you later. I don't resent my parents so maybe you can make up for it in other areas but better safe than sorry, eh?
Now, don't get me wrong, I can go beyond my main palate in a few ways - I enjoy grapes and fish and eggs on occasion but mainly I stick to the aforementioned selections.
So, if you're planning on having kids some day or if you've already got some: either train 'em young to love vegetables (ie brainwash them) or figure out a way to get them the healthy stuff (ie vitamins).
Now some people will claim that vitamins aren't gonna get you everything because it's synthetic. You got options; try a smoothie so that the healthy stuff can be mixed in or try a non-synthetic vitamin.
Nutrilite is partially synthetic and partially non-synthetic (http://www.nutrilite.com/en-us/General/faq-products.aspx) and so you'll get everything your body needs so that you can have a diet that doesn't consist of vile tasting foods (I'm looking at you broccoli).
For a video by a great YouTuber who shares my sentiments, watch here (Warning, not necessarily safe for younger kids - I'd give it a PG-13 but if you're concerned, have an adult(18+) watch before the kid does).
People consider this limited because I exclude essentially all vegetables and a number of fruit from my palate (with the exception of banana (technically an herb), apples (technically a non-fruit - look it up) and oranges).
For anyone who's read this far and doesn't know what palate means: a person's food preferences.
You may call it limited, but I call it knowing what I like. Just because you can't enjoy having burgers for every meal, weeks in a row, doesn't mean I can't. I enjoy it and I know how to keep healthy with it.
The key is vitamins and good drinks (ie Naked Juice (not a euphemism)) and not overdoing it. Although I've done it a number of times, a double, but especially a triple whopper for one meal is overdoing it.
With moderation and supplements, chances are you'll be just as good as everyone else even with a so-called "limited palate".
Forcing kids to eat vegetables is just gonna give them fuel to resent you later. I don't resent my parents so maybe you can make up for it in other areas but better safe than sorry, eh?
Now, don't get me wrong, I can go beyond my main palate in a few ways - I enjoy grapes and fish and eggs on occasion but mainly I stick to the aforementioned selections.
So, if you're planning on having kids some day or if you've already got some: either train 'em young to love vegetables (ie brainwash them) or figure out a way to get them the healthy stuff (ie vitamins).
Now some people will claim that vitamins aren't gonna get you everything because it's synthetic. You got options; try a smoothie so that the healthy stuff can be mixed in or try a non-synthetic vitamin.
Nutrilite is partially synthetic and partially non-synthetic (http://www.nutrilite.com/en-us/General/faq-products.aspx) and so you'll get everything your body needs so that you can have a diet that doesn't consist of vile tasting foods (I'm looking at you broccoli).
For a video by a great YouTuber who shares my sentiments, watch here (Warning, not necessarily safe for younger kids - I'd give it a PG-13 but if you're concerned, have an adult(18+) watch before the kid does).
Honey
Once upon a time, I had horrible allergies for about 9 months of the year and the remaining 3 months were spent in a pseudo-allergy state. You'd think I'd be spared in winter because everything is frozen and dead but no, my nose would seek out the struggling pollen/allergen and get a good whiff and make me sneeze up a storm.
If my nose couldn't find any, it just stored some so that it could make me sneeze at will. I think evolution could've done a better job on this one and found a different way to get rid of germs other than through rapidly expelling it through my nose.
Sometimes I'd be driving on the highway and BAM, I'd sneeze and be all over the road going at "65" mph (75 mph). It would come out of nowhere and I probably looked like some kind of drunk to the other drivers- all of whom mysteriously made way and made distance between me and them.
Then, at the age of 18, I was told of the wonderful side-effects of honey. Honey is made from bees getting nectar from flowers. When you eat enough local honey, your body builds an immunity to the pollen in the local flowers and your allergies would decrease significantly.
I was skeptical but when my parent's were willing to fork over the two or three dollars it costs to get honey, I was game. Every day I had a tablespoon of plain honey. I probably should have mixed it with tea but I wanted to just get it out of the way.
It was Winter when I was trying so I couldn't be sure of the effects. Now it is Spring. Now I get to watch everyone else suffer through the sneezing attacks while I am mucus-free for once in my life.
So, if you take any moral from this it is: eating sugar (in this case, in the form of honey) will always work out for you in the end.*
*Note: It may work out for you in gaining immunity to allergies, make coffee bearable(, get diabetes) and other things.
If my nose couldn't find any, it just stored some so that it could make me sneeze at will. I think evolution could've done a better job on this one and found a different way to get rid of germs other than through rapidly expelling it through my nose.
Sometimes I'd be driving on the highway and BAM, I'd sneeze and be all over the road going at "65" mph (75 mph). It would come out of nowhere and I probably looked like some kind of drunk to the other drivers- all of whom mysteriously made way and made distance between me and them.
Then, at the age of 18, I was told of the wonderful side-effects of honey. Honey is made from bees getting nectar from flowers. When you eat enough local honey, your body builds an immunity to the pollen in the local flowers and your allergies would decrease significantly.
I was skeptical but when my parent's were willing to fork over the two or three dollars it costs to get honey, I was game. Every day I had a tablespoon of plain honey. I probably should have mixed it with tea but I wanted to just get it out of the way.
It was Winter when I was trying so I couldn't be sure of the effects. Now it is Spring. Now I get to watch everyone else suffer through the sneezing attacks while I am mucus-free for once in my life.
So, if you take any moral from this it is: eating sugar (in this case, in the form of honey) will always work out for you in the end.*
*Note: It may work out for you in gaining immunity to allergies, make coffee bearable(, get diabetes) and other things.
Clorox® Spray
I'm not sponsoring the product, this is a story about my day. [Note: If you work for Clorox® and would like to pay me anyway, I'll gladly accept]
Today, after classes, I went with my girlfriend to the Student Union Building at our school because they were having a carnival to promote recycling and Earth-Day related ideas [though Clorox® may not be sponsoring me, the Earth is - by letting me live on he/she/it].
At the carnival you could make the rounds and enjoy a bunch of free events to win raffle tickets. Typical carnival games were offered, but they revolved around the theme of recycling and they were purposefully made fairly easy to win. One game, for instance, was throwing used products into recycling bins from about ten feet away.
The raffle tickets could be used to purchase food (ie Cup of Worms or popcorn) but they could also be used for, well a raffle. I won three tickets going through a few games and went and filled out my name on each and put two into a Clorox® Spray and one ticket into a raffle to win a bike.
I didn't realize the bike was part of the raffle till I had already put two tickets into the Clorox® raffle box. I wanted that bike. It wasn't a great bike, it had only one gear and was otherwise fairly ordinary (handle-bars, two wheels, the works) but even so I wanted it because when I learned that my car only gets 6 miles to the gallon, I essentially stopped driving it and living a mile and a half from classes means a lot of walking (not always fun to do for an 8AM).
The bike was an out. If I won the bike I'd have a gas-free option of getting to classes that also meant I didn't have to walk the whole way (which takes at least twice as long as taking a bike). I suppose that was the whole point of having it there at the raffle, to remind people of the gas-free alternative to driving - but I didn't need the reminder, I already avoid using gas because I'm too cheap.
Anyway, back to the carnival, I made a few more rounds at the games and won another eight tickets, and once all filled out I submitted them into the bike raffle.
My girlfriend knew that the bike raffle would be too popular so she didn't even bother with it and so put her tickets into a variety of other things that she never won either.
When it was seven o' clock the event was just about over and they were going to announce the results of the raffle. Opening with the smaller prizes, they decided it would be best to build up to the main prize, they began to announce winners.
My sister's won a goldfish at a fair and that's about the closest I've ever been to winning anything, so I didn't have high hopes or at the very least I pretended to myself not to.
The second prize announced was the Clorox® spray, the only thing that wasn't the bike that I had submitted tickets to win. The Clorox® spray was all natural and EPA approved and yada-yada-yada.
Then I hear her, the lady calling out the winner's names, announcing my name. Awkwardly, I make a huge loop over to towards the desk.
About half-way into my slow paced, overly arching route to the front desk she said I could just get the prize, I didn't have to go up to the table. I stood there stupidly for a moment as if trying to understand the abstract idea she had just presented me.
Slowly I made my way back to where I was standing and got the Clorox®. A few moments later my wits caught up with me and I anxiously awaited the announcement about who would win the bike.
Soon enough I find out that my luck's extent was winning me that Clorox®, but at least it was something.
Tonight, I had to walk back to my place. I usually don't walk back till it's dark and walking in the dark makes everything around me appear to be something that wants to viciously attack me.
I assume that anyone and anything that crosses my path is a potential threat - during the daylight everyone is the greatest person alive but at night, evil doesn't just lurk around every corner, but it's omnipresent (everywhere).
But tonight, I was armed. I had the Clorox® spray bottle in my hand, index finger on the trigger, just awaiting the attack that never strikes. Whenever any potential threat, be it a deer or a baby or one of my housemates walking toward me from a distance, I prepared myself.
With my finger on the trigger, I used my other hand to turn the nozzle to "ON", ready to spray anything that leaps to attack me. Once I'm passed them (by 20 or more feet), I feel safe enough to turn the 'safety' on. I pull the trigger a few times to make sure it's on and I don't have a mis-fire and I carry on till the next potential threat crosses my path.
I took a new route today, so it was especially important to have my extra line of defense (the spray bottle). The route included more pedestrians, who eyed me wearily, either sizing me up for attack or wondering why I was arming myself with a Clorox® bottle and continually turning ON and OFF the nozzle.
In the end I made it back safe, no doubt due to the intimidating effects the eco-friendly Clorox spray had on those who ventured near me.
Supply And Demand
Now, as evidenced by my having less than a quarter thousand page-views to having 15 posts (a ratio of a little over 15 views per post), I am not that popular.
I want to be popular, I want to have a blog with a million page-views or even 50+ million, getting tens of thousands of hits a day - this would be great. As it stands, I am not getting anything close to that.
That is a supply and demand model. I have a small demand, so if I want to increase my "price" (page-views) I have to match it with a high supply. This would mean generating a lot of posts so that my very minor following would visit my page for each one thus increasing my page-views. The fundamental problem here is that my demand may decrease, because who wants to spend all their time reading my blog?
Probably everybody should want to eat up my every word, but as it stands, people like variety in their life, so I have to be realistic.
Now, conversely, if I had a high demand, I could have fewer posts so that multiplying my high demand by my fewer posts, I'd get the same number of page-views. Now all I need is to get that huge following and I'm willing to wait.
I'm waiting right now.
In fact, I'm still waiting, even now.
Still waiting.
Waiting.
You get the picture, I'm waiting.
Unfortunately, waiting won't generate a large following, I have to take an active approach, but I can't do it alone, unless of course I produce a massive number of kids and have all of them read my blog, but in a society where monogamy is what's socially acceptable - producing a massive number of kids would require one incredibly fertile and patient wife and an impressive life-span on my part.
Since it's not very feasible to go that route, I have to hope for readers other ways. I promote my site through StumbleUpon and Facebook as well as word of mouth and email and links on my page to promote it on other sites but alas that has only gotten me so many followers (and this isn't to say that my followers aren't great, they just aren't great in number, because they are great and I'm quite thankful for you!).
What I need to do is make my site have more "resonance" so that people, when they read it, decide it would be great to let their friends know about it. If it was a matter of personal opinion, I think that I should have great resonance, but so far evidence suggests otherwise - so I'm going to suggest variety.
I'm going to post blogs and web comics and as time goes on maybe I'll even add more things to post.
Persistence is also key. I'm going to make a new post every day and if I don't, I'll make comics - some days I might miss, but I'll try to warn my followers ahead of time.
Ah, puns! Don't be discouraged by this little comic. In the future they'll be a little more thought out - though I can't guarantee they'll be drawn any better - MS Paint and my artistic skills don't generally culminate in masterpieces.
I want to be popular, I want to have a blog with a million page-views or even 50+ million, getting tens of thousands of hits a day - this would be great. As it stands, I am not getting anything close to that.
Probably everybody should want to eat up my every word, but as it stands, people like variety in their life, so I have to be realistic.
Now, conversely, if I had a high demand, I could have fewer posts so that multiplying my high demand by my fewer posts, I'd get the same number of page-views. Now all I need is to get that huge following and I'm willing to wait.
I'm waiting right now.
In fact, I'm still waiting, even now.
Still waiting.
Waiting.
You get the picture, I'm waiting.
Unfortunately, waiting won't generate a large following, I have to take an active approach, but I can't do it alone, unless of course I produce a massive number of kids and have all of them read my blog, but in a society where monogamy is what's socially acceptable - producing a massive number of kids would require one incredibly fertile and patient wife and an impressive life-span on my part.
Since it's not very feasible to go that route, I have to hope for readers other ways. I promote my site through StumbleUpon and Facebook as well as word of mouth and email and links on my page to promote it on other sites but alas that has only gotten me so many followers (and this isn't to say that my followers aren't great, they just aren't great in number, because they are great and I'm quite thankful for you!).
What I need to do is make my site have more "resonance" so that people, when they read it, decide it would be great to let their friends know about it. If it was a matter of personal opinion, I think that I should have great resonance, but so far evidence suggests otherwise - so I'm going to suggest variety.
I'm going to post blogs and web comics and as time goes on maybe I'll even add more things to post.
Persistence is also key. I'm going to make a new post every day and if I don't, I'll make comics - some days I might miss, but I'll try to warn my followers ahead of time.
Signing Up For Classes
When it's time to sign up for classes, hearts race, adrenaline courses and nerves take over. As the time for signing up for classes draws nearer, people begin to check Course Availability more and more - right until it's time to sign up and then people are just on the page to sign up hitting refresh repeatedly.
Sometimes it works out and with enough overrides you can manage a half-way decent schedule. Some classes are pretty much designed to be those left over classes for transfer students so that they can congregate and commiserate in communal understanding of each other's difficulties.
I'm not saying that transferring is a bad choice, it often works out but sometimes you'll have to wait a semester to reap the benefits.
There are some fun perks of being a transfer student, a) when you're in your final semester at a school, just before you transfer, you get to watch everyone around you become anxious about their classes while you can relax and enjoy the serenity of knowing that you don't have to sign up for classes yet and b) when you do sign up for classes, there isn't the same hunt, you aren't competing against thousands of other people - you don't have to worry about the servers crashing mid-signing up - and so you can go into the whole process a little relaxed and calm about the whole ordeal.
Of course, when next semester's signing up time rolls around: The hunt is on!
Once classes are signed up for, a wave of relief as well as disappointment blankets the campus. Then, a few moments later people rush to their phones and emails or to department chairs and start requesting overrides so that they can get into the classes they want.
Some of the most unlikely classes will get filled while others will have many open spots remaining (ie Calculus III fills up but other classes have 30+ spots open).
In the weeks before sign-up time, people draft up a dozen "perfect" schedules that combine either the most easy classes, the most GE classes, the most core classes or most time efficient.
As seniors sign up people get a little more realistic and make minor compromises and changes to their schedules but often find that some perfect schedule still exists for them. Freshmen often have it the worst, by the time they get to sign up their schedule resembles a hodgepodge of classes that meet the minimum standard of 'still have some spots left'.
One group has it worse than the freshmen: the transfer students. When we first arrive at the college, it's after all the classes have been chosen and only the unwanted scraps are wanted.
I'm not saying that transferring is a bad choice, it often works out but sometimes you'll have to wait a semester to reap the benefits.
There are some fun perks of being a transfer student, a) when you're in your final semester at a school, just before you transfer, you get to watch everyone around you become anxious about their classes while you can relax and enjoy the serenity of knowing that you don't have to sign up for classes yet and b) when you do sign up for classes, there isn't the same hunt, you aren't competing against thousands of other people - you don't have to worry about the servers crashing mid-signing up - and so you can go into the whole process a little relaxed and calm about the whole ordeal.
Of course, when next semester's signing up time rolls around: The hunt is on!
Applying For Jobs
As someone who has held two jobs both due to nepotism, I think I'm fairly qualified to talk about applying for jobs and getting jobs.
*Note: Nepotism is getting hired by someone related to you (ie uncle or girlfriend's mom, just to name a couple that worked out well in my experience). *
As I understand it, the process generally works like this:
*Note: Nepotism is getting hired by someone related to you (ie uncle or girlfriend's mom, just to name a couple that worked out well in my experience). *
As I understand it, the process generally works like this:
*note: if the picture looks too small you can click on it and then zoom in*
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------And that's that. I hope you got a job, be it the noble way or the PREFERRED way.
Happy Job hunting!
Running Out of Gas
I was driving my Ford Bronco around town with my girlfriend, we made a couple stops for me, a couple stops for her and then we were back on campus heading back to her dorm. My fuel gauge told me I had between 1/8th and 1/4 of a tank, and that tank holds 32 gallons, so I was operating under the understanding that I had 4 or more gallons of gas.
My car, I believed, got a dastardly 10 miles to the gallon and so I figured I had 40 miles remaining. What I soon found out was that I had about a quarter mile remaining.
I was about a third of the way into campus (it's not a very large campus) when I realized that my car was beginning to lurch and hiccup (the kind of hiccuping where surprising it just won't help). I ease off and then back on the gas and for a moment things seem fine.
It's only fine for a moment more and it dawns on me that the car is running on empty, or at least very near to it, so I head for the parking lot and hope to roll down the hill into it with enough velocity to not stop in the middle of the street and maybe even glide into a parking spot.
Well, I did avoid stopping in the middle of the street, but I was only just able to get into the parking lot. Spots were empty all around me but in my 2 ton car, I wasn't going to be able to just stick a leg out of the car and skateboard it into a spot. I put my blinkers on.
So, instead I first see if my girlfriend can push the car while I steer into a spot (she's a pretty strong girl and pretty confident in herself) but alas, we rolled in the wrong direction a few inches before I realize it was futile to have her keep straining against it - like trying to get an ant to push a person over (ants are incredibly strong but it just isn't going to happen).
Now I give it a shot and the thing just won't budge. I'm pushing and pushing and I can't get the thing to move much at all.
My girlfriend puts the car in park and runs back to her dorm to see if she can get some guys who hang out there a lot to come out and help give me a push. While she's gone a guy in a Volvo pulls up and asks what the problem is (the first of about five cars that passed me to say anything). I explain the car's out of gas and I need help to get the thing moving. He acts as if he'll help, he hangs out for about a minute and then he just takes off - so that fell through quick.
A lot of people at this point are in classes still, so about five minutes later my girlfriend shows up with three of her suite-mates/friends coming up the walkway to the car and I begin to wonder if we'll get this thing rolling much better with them - because they don't look exactly built like lumberjacks.
But I have hope nonetheless and my girlfriend and the three girls she got try giving the car a push while I steer. I'm steering because I'm most used to the car and so I can direct it as need be without too much wasted effort.
The car remains stationary as the girls push and I'm getting pretty annoyed at the car at this point. We decide to exchange me and my girlfriend - I push and she steers.
Finally the car begins to move. Success! We push and we push and it gets rolling and we build up a momentum that a turtle would be ashamed of. Even so the car is going and we start to decide where to park it.
The closer spots are visitor-only and since we are finally able to move the car, we decide to bypass all the visitor spots and go an extra 50-ish feet to another spot. Since we're going painfully slow, it becomes positively exhausting after 20 or 30 feet and I begin to weaken my push a bit and until I stop for a breather.
The car rolls back a tad but my girlfriend hits the brake and I catch my breath while I'm sure my car-pushing-helpers are relieved to have a moment too.
They really want to get it over and done with so together we push again and we get it rolling, though there's a slight incline and it becomes a little tougher.
As we close in on the last 10 feet, after several people passed us by, two young women offered their help and together we got the car into the spot. There was barely enough surface area on the back for all the helping hands but we managed and it was all thanks to the power of all those helpful young women, the ones my girlfriend got (who I later gave small trinkets to in thanks) and the ones who just saw someone in need.
In the end all of my helpers rejoiced in their herculean strength, proud of the feat they accomplished. I was glad for their help and that I wasn't going to be ticketed for leaving my car unattended in a non-parking spot.
10 minutes after we got the car into a spot, it began to pour so I was also glad that we were done and back inside before that extra obstacle!
Later I got a one gallon fuel canister that I've now made use of two extra times (those stories I'll have to tell another time).
Marshmallows
Today, by candlelight, my girlfriend and I roasted marshmallows. This was no easy feat. The original plan was to have an open fire (on logs) and (not roast chestnuts, but,) roast marshmallows - just as a small romantic and tasty gesture. We were going to do this the day we got back from Passover break but it had rained.
There's a fire pit in the backyard of my apartment and so it would've been nice to utilize it for this little foray but alas nature intended to delay our plans. Then we were going to take a try inside using a candle I have but it was scented and my girlfriend was concerned we would a) get all the chemicals into the marshmallows (not good) and b) it would taste bad from the chemicals.
Our plans were therefore further delayed. And finally yesterday, I went to the supermarket and got some supplies: a lighter, unscented candles and a small shot-glass-sized container to hold the candles in.
The candles were those tall 10" candles meant for romantic dinners, but they didn't have any other kinds (like the convenient cylindrical ones) that came in unscented. Tall candles meant I had to get the container.
The container was the most difficult part of the whole equation. On top of getting the aforementioned items, I was also getting cereal, pre-made cookie dough stuff and a couple other things but because I hadn't planned on what I was getting, I was just holding everything in my hands.
I was essentially The Cat In The Hat but without the grace and poise he's capable of. I went to the front of the store, to return a huge freshly baked loaf of bread I picked up solely because it was on sale for cheap. I was right next to the baskets, but of course didn't think to get one. That was a mistake.
As I get about five paces from the baskets, the candle holder, made of glass, drops, not for the first time, mind you, but from the greatest height so far, and it crashes to the ground and simply shatters all over the place.
I stand there, looking dumb and helpless, searching for someone a little more prepared than me. Finally an employee gets a co-worker to come help me out.
His opening remark to me: "You know we have baskets right over there."
"Yeah... I..." I began and trailed off.
I made my way, wearily, to the baskets and put everything I was carrying inside. Certainly did make it easier. I nodded to the employee in thanks and went for round two with that candle holder.
I went and got the same kind, put it in my basket, lest I am forced to contend with another gravity mishap. I made my way to the self-checkout and scan everything. At this point I realize that the candle holder I have, the second one, has no bar-code on the bottom - I decide to ignore it and just pay with my card.
I hit credit and then it asks for my PIN. I don't use the card a lot so I forgot my PIN and just put in common numbers I use and hope for it to work out. First time it doesn't work. Second time I try new numbers and it doesn't work again. Now I've got the attention of the attendant and I ask her to just cancel my order because after several cursory glances at the line I didn't want to waste any more of their time.
I tell her I can't get my card to work so she prints out the receipt for everything and brings me to her little stand. She scans it in and says maybe now I can get my card to work. I know it wasn't really a problem with my card it was a problem with my memory but I tried anyway.
She figured out that I wanted to pay credit and pointed out that when I got to the PIN screen I should just hit cancel. Finally it worked out - so if some day that checkout lady reads my blog: THANK YOU!
Now that I got everything worked out, I try for round three with that candle holder and finally this time I know not to precariously balance it on 10 other things, and to make sure it's got a bar-code.
I go to pay for it and I know to skip passed the PIN screen but then it asks if $2.15 is the right cost and I figure, eh, I'll bump it up $20 and get cash back, so I say "No" and enter $22.15. Now the machine sees an opportunity to prolong my experience more and tells me it can't give me cash-back so I just go through the whole process again, say "Yes" to the $2.15 charge and just get out of the store.
Then last night my girlfriend wasn't in the mood for the marshmallows so I had to wait some more for this little romantic excursion to come to fruition.
This morning I wake up and it's raining and apparently been raining for a little while. I'm not exactly pleased with nature at this point.
But things work out because the rain lets up and drys up a bit. By 9 in the afternoon (not a reference to the song) we get the stuff ready and go have our marshmallows. Earlier we picked up some wooden chopsticks to put the marshmallows on. First we soak them in water, then we went out.
There was a slight breeze (maybe a quarter mile an hour) which the flames exaggerated.
It took some difficulty but we managed.
At one point I had a roasted marshmallow on the end of my wooden chopstick, which had been scorched some, when suddenly the chopstick broke. The marshmallow, et al, fell to the table and I quickly retrieved it.
Somehow in the couple seconds that had passed I had forgotten that I had dropped the marshmallow on the table and offered it to my girlfriend.
She was disgusted at the prospect because it had just hit the table where there was old rain water and who knows what else - and she pointed that out to me.
Of course I had forgotten that it had dropped, I don't know how I had forgotten in those moments, so I just popped it in my mouth.
Just before I chomped down I remembered. I deplore germs when it comes to food so I instantaneously spew it from my mouth while my girlfriend laughs at the face I made in my realization - probably a cross between shock and horror and disgust.
I went to the bathroom, washed my hands and my mouth, then went to the water fountain and washed my mouth out again before returning to the table for some more marshmallows.
I dropped one more marshmallow, that I had been working on for about 5 minutes and was just perfect, but fortunately I thought before I went for it and just threw that one out.
In the end the evening was a success other than that one lapse in memory. The marshmallows were delicious.
There's a fire pit in the backyard of my apartment and so it would've been nice to utilize it for this little foray but alas nature intended to delay our plans. Then we were going to take a try inside using a candle I have but it was scented and my girlfriend was concerned we would a) get all the chemicals into the marshmallows (not good) and b) it would taste bad from the chemicals.
Our plans were therefore further delayed. And finally yesterday, I went to the supermarket and got some supplies: a lighter, unscented candles and a small shot-glass-sized container to hold the candles in.
The candles were those tall 10" candles meant for romantic dinners, but they didn't have any other kinds (like the convenient cylindrical ones) that came in unscented. Tall candles meant I had to get the container.
The container was the most difficult part of the whole equation. On top of getting the aforementioned items, I was also getting cereal, pre-made cookie dough stuff and a couple other things but because I hadn't planned on what I was getting, I was just holding everything in my hands.
As I get about five paces from the baskets, the candle holder, made of glass, drops, not for the first time, mind you, but from the greatest height so far, and it crashes to the ground and simply shatters all over the place.
I stand there, looking dumb and helpless, searching for someone a little more prepared than me. Finally an employee gets a co-worker to come help me out.
His opening remark to me: "You know we have baskets right over there."
"Yeah... I..." I began and trailed off.
I made my way, wearily, to the baskets and put everything I was carrying inside. Certainly did make it easier. I nodded to the employee in thanks and went for round two with that candle holder.
I went and got the same kind, put it in my basket, lest I am forced to contend with another gravity mishap. I made my way to the self-checkout and scan everything. At this point I realize that the candle holder I have, the second one, has no bar-code on the bottom - I decide to ignore it and just pay with my card.
I hit credit and then it asks for my PIN. I don't use the card a lot so I forgot my PIN and just put in common numbers I use and hope for it to work out. First time it doesn't work. Second time I try new numbers and it doesn't work again. Now I've got the attention of the attendant and I ask her to just cancel my order because after several cursory glances at the line I didn't want to waste any more of their time.
I tell her I can't get my card to work so she prints out the receipt for everything and brings me to her little stand. She scans it in and says maybe now I can get my card to work. I know it wasn't really a problem with my card it was a problem with my memory but I tried anyway.
She figured out that I wanted to pay credit and pointed out that when I got to the PIN screen I should just hit cancel. Finally it worked out - so if some day that checkout lady reads my blog: THANK YOU!
Now that I got everything worked out, I try for round three with that candle holder and finally this time I know not to precariously balance it on 10 other things, and to make sure it's got a bar-code.
I go to pay for it and I know to skip passed the PIN screen but then it asks if $2.15 is the right cost and I figure, eh, I'll bump it up $20 and get cash back, so I say "No" and enter $22.15. Now the machine sees an opportunity to prolong my experience more and tells me it can't give me cash-back so I just go through the whole process again, say "Yes" to the $2.15 charge and just get out of the store.
Then last night my girlfriend wasn't in the mood for the marshmallows so I had to wait some more for this little romantic excursion to come to fruition.
This morning I wake up and it's raining and apparently been raining for a little while. I'm not exactly pleased with nature at this point.
But things work out because the rain lets up and drys up a bit. By 9 in the afternoon (not a reference to the song) we get the stuff ready and go have our marshmallows. Earlier we picked up some wooden chopsticks to put the marshmallows on. First we soak them in water, then we went out.
There was a slight breeze (maybe a quarter mile an hour) which the flames exaggerated.
At one point I had a roasted marshmallow on the end of my wooden chopstick, which had been scorched some, when suddenly the chopstick broke. The marshmallow, et al, fell to the table and I quickly retrieved it.
Somehow in the couple seconds that had passed I had forgotten that I had dropped the marshmallow on the table and offered it to my girlfriend.
She was disgusted at the prospect because it had just hit the table where there was old rain water and who knows what else - and she pointed that out to me.
Of course I had forgotten that it had dropped, I don't know how I had forgotten in those moments, so I just popped it in my mouth.
Just before I chomped down I remembered. I deplore germs when it comes to food so I instantaneously spew it from my mouth while my girlfriend laughs at the face I made in my realization - probably a cross between shock and horror and disgust.
I went to the bathroom, washed my hands and my mouth, then went to the water fountain and washed my mouth out again before returning to the table for some more marshmallows.
I dropped one more marshmallow, that I had been working on for about 5 minutes and was just perfect, but fortunately I thought before I went for it and just threw that one out.
In the end the evening was a success other than that one lapse in memory. The marshmallows were delicious.
Alone For The Night
In Burlington, Vermont, a week before Thanksgiving, I sat in a nearly vacant building, where normally 200+ people made their lodgings. I had signed up for a flight home on Sunday because it was cheaper. I was at college, in my dorm, alone, because I wanted to save money [and *spoiler alert* I didn't save money, I spent more than had I gone on Friday like everyone else].
Apparently I was way behind in the news but you weren't supposed to stay in the dorms after Friday afternoon. I intended on staying till Sunday afternoon so clearly the school and I had different expectations about how my weekend would play out and neither of us were right. I thought I'd stay in my dorm that I paid [/parents paid] an astronomical amount to sleep in for a semester. My school thought I'd go home on Friday because they gave me a week off [me and everyone else at the college - no preferential treatment though my ego tells me I deserve it].
What ended up happening went something like this:
Thursday, I'm hanging out with my friend, let's call her Alli for simplicity's sake [because that is indeed her name or nickname], and she asks me what I'm doing for the weekend since I'm not going home right away on Friday like the other 10000+ people on campus who got the message.
"I'm going to stay in my dorm" was what I thought was the obvious answer, why would I waste money doing something else?
This is when I find out that they're closing the dorms Friday, but maybe I can find a way to stay an extra night if I smooth talk my way into it because the forms were due 2 weeks before.
Pretty soon thereafter I was on the other side of campus pleading with The Room & Board administrator and finally she let up and gives me the form after I proved that I was pretty screwed since I had no living arrangements anywhere within 250 miles of the school [this wasn't a request I had to prove - I just had to show her my later-date plane ticket - it's just the way it was].
The form says I can stay till 10 AM Saturday and I figure, they can't force me out of the room, as long as I'm sneaky, I can probably stay the whole weekend as long as I stack up on food and never leave my room (until of course I needed to get on the plane).
Friday night I video chat with my girlfriend, as I did every day and come to the realization that I'm one of maybe a hundred people on this enormous campus and within my own building, I'm one of maybe three, aside from maybe two or three RAs who were left behind to check the rooms the following morning.
By 10AM Saturday I have all my stuff together and I chicken out on the whole: sneak-through-the-building-and-stay-the-weekend plan.
I head to the library and decide to kill a few hours by borrowing a book or two and surfing the web. The night before I had found a motel with the cheapest/least-dirty combo and it was several miles away and while I could walk it, I decided a bus was more feasible because anyone who's been as far north as Vermont, a month before winter starts, knows that it can get pretty chilly.
After five or six hours at the library it was time to get on the bus and I got to the stop about 30 minutes early. I kept seeing buses from the same company and followed them hoping to get onto that bus and just wait the extra loop out because at least I'd be warm - this following vehicles that go 10 times faster than you plan didn't really pan out and instead I missed my bus and ended up waiting an hour.
It wasn't absolutely frigid because at least it was noon and the sun was high in the sky but the wind wouldn't let up. Once on the bus everything fell together smoothly.
I got to the motel, signed in, went to my room, watched hours of TV only to stop for food/bathroom breaks or to go to the vending machines. Night-time rolled around and I called my girlfriend, we talked, I watched more TV and then I went to sleep. The following morning I had to leave at 11 because that's sign-out time at the motel and I didn't want to be charged an extra night.
Finally it's Sunday, the day of my flight. I'm cheap, of course, so I didn't want to waste my money on any extra costs and so I decided to walk the three miles, luggage et al, to the airport.
The walk wasn't too bad, but it was a tad exhausting. I let Google SMS lead me to my destination and fortunately it got me there safe and sound.
Of course my flight wasn't until the afternoon so I had to wait at the airport a while - hours. I had no laptop at this point in my life so this meant: No internet or TV to entertain me, but I had the books. The problem was I am easily distracted by noises so about two hours/3 pages into the book I gave up and just toughed it out.
I went to the restaurant in the airport and got a burger, my food of choice, and watch some TV in there for a while.
Then it was finally the time to get on my flight and I go through security, which of course when I'm in no rush, takes 5 minutes, maybe less.
I sit in the waiting area where two other people are waiting for their flight. As the next hour or two passes more people seep in, until a sizable number of the seats get filled.
You'd think, I'm finally at the airport, everything's good now; but you'd be thinking wrong.
When the plane comes in, there's some problems with the plane. This is of course annoying time-wise but also terrifying - no passenger wants to hear their plane has 'problems'. Eventually, an hour later, they get that resolved but alas that's not the end of it.
Now the head-winds are getting too strong and it's unsafe for planes to fly in the inclement weather so we have to wait more.
Another hour passes and the people start telling us we might not be able to take the plane that night - disconcerting since I already did all this waiting, but still I tough it out.
Eventually they determine it's okay to board the plane, so finally we get on the plane. You'd think everything's fine, I'm on the plane, 30 minutes and I'll take to the air, but alas you'd be wrong again.
At this point the UN has let out and everyone in the UN building has to take a plane to their native country or something along those lines and that means no commercial flights can be in the air. They figure, after 9/11 that all commercial flights in the air are probably impossibly equipped with missiles and technology to allow them to go faster than the jets that the UN members get to use - and of course that our little commercial flight, with all these modifications must also have a deep desire to destroy an international symbol of peace.
A couple hours later we get to take off and finally everything goes according to plan and I get to go home.
Yay!
PS I wrote this late and a tad rushed so sometimes the tenses (past/present) get a little messed up, I tried to fix it but I'm sorry for any errors like that.
Apparently I was way behind in the news but you weren't supposed to stay in the dorms after Friday afternoon. I intended on staying till Sunday afternoon so clearly the school and I had different expectations about how my weekend would play out and neither of us were right. I thought I'd stay in my dorm that I paid [/parents paid] an astronomical amount to sleep in for a semester. My school thought I'd go home on Friday because they gave me a week off [me and everyone else at the college - no preferential treatment though my ego tells me I deserve it].
What ended up happening went something like this:
Thursday, I'm hanging out with my friend, let's call her Alli for simplicity's sake [because that is indeed her name or nickname], and she asks me what I'm doing for the weekend since I'm not going home right away on Friday like the other 10000+ people on campus who got the message.
"I'm going to stay in my dorm" was what I thought was the obvious answer, why would I waste money doing something else?
This is when I find out that they're closing the dorms Friday, but maybe I can find a way to stay an extra night if I smooth talk my way into it because the forms were due 2 weeks before.
Pretty soon thereafter I was on the other side of campus pleading with The Room & Board administrator and finally she let up and gives me the form after I proved that I was pretty screwed since I had no living arrangements anywhere within 250 miles of the school [this wasn't a request I had to prove - I just had to show her my later-date plane ticket - it's just the way it was].
The form says I can stay till 10 AM Saturday and I figure, they can't force me out of the room, as long as I'm sneaky, I can probably stay the whole weekend as long as I stack up on food and never leave my room (until of course I needed to get on the plane).
Friday night I video chat with my girlfriend, as I did every day and come to the realization that I'm one of maybe a hundred people on this enormous campus and within my own building, I'm one of maybe three, aside from maybe two or three RAs who were left behind to check the rooms the following morning.
By 10AM Saturday I have all my stuff together and I chicken out on the whole: sneak-through-the-building-and-stay-the-weekend plan.
I head to the library and decide to kill a few hours by borrowing a book or two and surfing the web. The night before I had found a motel with the cheapest/least-dirty combo and it was several miles away and while I could walk it, I decided a bus was more feasible because anyone who's been as far north as Vermont, a month before winter starts, knows that it can get pretty chilly.
After five or six hours at the library it was time to get on the bus and I got to the stop about 30 minutes early. I kept seeing buses from the same company and followed them hoping to get onto that bus and just wait the extra loop out because at least I'd be warm - this following vehicles that go 10 times faster than you plan didn't really pan out and instead I missed my bus and ended up waiting an hour.
It wasn't absolutely frigid because at least it was noon and the sun was high in the sky but the wind wouldn't let up. Once on the bus everything fell together smoothly.
I got to the motel, signed in, went to my room, watched hours of TV only to stop for food/bathroom breaks or to go to the vending machines. Night-time rolled around and I called my girlfriend, we talked, I watched more TV and then I went to sleep. The following morning I had to leave at 11 because that's sign-out time at the motel and I didn't want to be charged an extra night.
Finally it's Sunday, the day of my flight. I'm cheap, of course, so I didn't want to waste my money on any extra costs and so I decided to walk the three miles, luggage et al, to the airport.
The walk wasn't too bad, but it was a tad exhausting. I let Google SMS lead me to my destination and fortunately it got me there safe and sound.
Of course my flight wasn't until the afternoon so I had to wait at the airport a while - hours. I had no laptop at this point in my life so this meant: No internet or TV to entertain me, but I had the books. The problem was I am easily distracted by noises so about two hours/3 pages into the book I gave up and just toughed it out.
I went to the restaurant in the airport and got a burger, my food of choice, and watch some TV in there for a while.
Then it was finally the time to get on my flight and I go through security, which of course when I'm in no rush, takes 5 minutes, maybe less.
I sit in the waiting area where two other people are waiting for their flight. As the next hour or two passes more people seep in, until a sizable number of the seats get filled.
You'd think, I'm finally at the airport, everything's good now; but you'd be thinking wrong.
When the plane comes in, there's some problems with the plane. This is of course annoying time-wise but also terrifying - no passenger wants to hear their plane has 'problems'. Eventually, an hour later, they get that resolved but alas that's not the end of it.
Now the head-winds are getting too strong and it's unsafe for planes to fly in the inclement weather so we have to wait more.
Another hour passes and the people start telling us we might not be able to take the plane that night - disconcerting since I already did all this waiting, but still I tough it out.
Eventually they determine it's okay to board the plane, so finally we get on the plane. You'd think everything's fine, I'm on the plane, 30 minutes and I'll take to the air, but alas you'd be wrong again.
At this point the UN has let out and everyone in the UN building has to take a plane to their native country or something along those lines and that means no commercial flights can be in the air. They figure, after 9/11 that all commercial flights in the air are probably impossibly equipped with missiles and technology to allow them to go faster than the jets that the UN members get to use - and of course that our little commercial flight, with all these modifications must also have a deep desire to destroy an international symbol of peace.
A couple hours later we get to take off and finally everything goes according to plan and I get to go home.
Yay!
PS I wrote this late and a tad rushed so sometimes the tenses (past/present) get a little messed up, I tried to fix it but I'm sorry for any errors like that.
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