I decided that I should try googling my own name and going through all the entries this time to find out little bits of info about myself. I highly recommend doing this if you feel the need to prove to yourself that you have actually done something in your life, while at the moment you are doing nothing at all.
Actually by googling myself I was able to come across this site. I'm not sure how this happened but I'm excited that it did. Now all sorts of strange and bizarre people who once knew me can find me all over again...ok, that might not be the best thing. But it did get me thinking about people that do not exist in the world of google.
What does that say about you, if you are a modern individual who is ungoogleable? Does that mean that you haven't done anything? I admit that I haven't done much impressive in the past say 4 years but I still appear several times on google...apparently there is some guy who has my name who is an irish hip hop mc too. I'm not excited about that either because I just see tons of bad michael bolton-esque jokes coming up if he ever makes it big. I listened to some of his stuff and frankly I don't see that happening any time soon.
But the question is still out there-- what kind of person cannot be googled. What does that say about you if when you type your name into the system and nothing shows up? Does that mean that you've done nothing noteworthy in your life? Or does it mean that no one has taken any interest in your life? Either way, it is a dreary thought, unless you like privacy.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Yoknapatawpha and LullaBelle
I went north again this weekend to see LullaBelle and to ride in the hills of Yoknapatawpha. I do miss the blessed north country a lot. The hills are greener and life is alot easier there than it is down here in Rural. Rural, even though it is the largest city in the State, is nothing more than an overgrown suburb. I have hitherto been able to find anything here to entertain myself. It has the same restuarants and shopping that one can find in Yoknapatawa, but it lacks the culture, sporting events and Lulla.
During law school everyone talked about Rural like it was the greatest place in the whole State, but honestly they need to get over themselvse something fierce. The smaller towns have everything over this place. Maybe, I'm upset that Lulla lives all the way up there and I down here and therefore it is a less pleasant place for me, but even when she is here I struggle to find anything other than her company pleasant. But I cannot constantly talk poorly about a place that I'm going to live for another 9 months.
At least I am constantly amused by the drivers and their complete inability to navigate the most simple of highway interchanges. They refer to it as the stack, as if it was a piece of engineering genius that originated only here in Rural. What it actually is, is a double T interchange of two interstates. One heading north/south and the other east/west. The two join together for about 1 mile and then split again to head their own ways. But every morning at 8AM and every evening around 5PM there is going to be some type of traffic problem there.
Also the riding is just less than what I've been expecting. I know all the routes in Yoknapatawa, I know where they go and how long they take. Down here, they just don't seem to go anywhere interesting. I mean there are a couple of nice routes and all, but they lack the same friendliness that their hill country brethern have. I guess I should just relax and enjoy my time in rural. But I'm struggling to find a way to do that, right now.
During law school everyone talked about Rural like it was the greatest place in the whole State, but honestly they need to get over themselvse something fierce. The smaller towns have everything over this place. Maybe, I'm upset that Lulla lives all the way up there and I down here and therefore it is a less pleasant place for me, but even when she is here I struggle to find anything other than her company pleasant. But I cannot constantly talk poorly about a place that I'm going to live for another 9 months.
At least I am constantly amused by the drivers and their complete inability to navigate the most simple of highway interchanges. They refer to it as the stack, as if it was a piece of engineering genius that originated only here in Rural. What it actually is, is a double T interchange of two interstates. One heading north/south and the other east/west. The two join together for about 1 mile and then split again to head their own ways. But every morning at 8AM and every evening around 5PM there is going to be some type of traffic problem there.
Also the riding is just less than what I've been expecting. I know all the routes in Yoknapatawa, I know where they go and how long they take. Down here, they just don't seem to go anywhere interesting. I mean there are a couple of nice routes and all, but they lack the same friendliness that their hill country brethern have. I guess I should just relax and enjoy my time in rural. But I'm struggling to find a way to do that, right now.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
10 Reasons to Be a Cubs Fan and not a White Sox Fan
Since the Sox have made the series I thought I would take this opportunity to re-affirm my support of the other team...the Cubbies
The following 10 reasons make my convictions in support of the Cubs stronger, but this list is not meant to be exhaustive:
1. My parents raised me correctly.
2. My grandparents raised my parents correctly.
3. I do not find women who could physically hurt me attractive.
4. The mayor, a rabid Sox fan, might be a no nonsense kind of guy, but the tax base of the greatest city in the world which allows him to be said guy live, work and play on the north side.
5. Taking your life into your own hands to see a baseball game is not my style of fun. Even the police get hazard pay to go to the South Side.
6. Blue collar and white collar fans (i.e. Bill Murray, Tobi Keith, God) cheer for the Cubs, while trailer-park trash (i.e. Kid Rock, Paris Hilton) cheer for the White Sox.
7. All of the Cubs players at least speak english. Most of the Sox fans don't speak any identifiable language at all.
8. To be a Cubs fan you at least need an understanding of the game of baseball. Sox fans are still learning how to use rudimentary tools.
9. Cubs fans sell out Wrigley Field everyday and support their team through thick and thin. Sox fans can lay dormant for decades like cicadas or herpes.
10. Cubs fans become laywers, doctors, architects, business leaders and pillars of the community. Soxs fans clean those pillars.
The following 10 reasons make my convictions in support of the Cubs stronger, but this list is not meant to be exhaustive:
1. My parents raised me correctly.
2. My grandparents raised my parents correctly.
3. I do not find women who could physically hurt me attractive.
4. The mayor, a rabid Sox fan, might be a no nonsense kind of guy, but the tax base of the greatest city in the world which allows him to be said guy live, work and play on the north side.
5. Taking your life into your own hands to see a baseball game is not my style of fun. Even the police get hazard pay to go to the South Side.
6. Blue collar and white collar fans (i.e. Bill Murray, Tobi Keith, God) cheer for the Cubs, while trailer-park trash (i.e. Kid Rock, Paris Hilton) cheer for the White Sox.
7. All of the Cubs players at least speak english. Most of the Sox fans don't speak any identifiable language at all.
8. To be a Cubs fan you at least need an understanding of the game of baseball. Sox fans are still learning how to use rudimentary tools.
9. Cubs fans sell out Wrigley Field everyday and support their team through thick and thin. Sox fans can lay dormant for decades like cicadas or herpes.
10. Cubs fans become laywers, doctors, architects, business leaders and pillars of the community. Soxs fans clean those pillars.
The Day the Internet Came Back to Work
Yesterday may have been one of the happier days of my young professional career. For one reason or another the powers that be had denied me the ability to use my personal e-mail while at work by blocking the website which I use to log-on to my e-mail account. But out of the blue yesterday I was granted access again. I couldn't believe it. However, now my work productivity has declined dramatically but I'm happy. You know what they say, a happy worker is a good worker.
I spent the weekend with my beloved LullaBelle. It is hard to conduct a long-distance relationship. The distance itself kills but on top of it you realize the things that you miss and you become jealous of a former version of yourself. Up until recently I had lived in a tiny little town, one in which I could bike across it from corner to corner in 10 minutes if the lights were red. Now I live in this overgrown suburb about 2 hours away. We are separated only by this distance but it seems like an eternity.
I had become addicted to spending time with her. I realize now that just her presence around me makes me happy. We talk on the phone and see each other as often as possible, but you learn that you miss just sitting quietly next to each other. Actually seeing them smile or laugh is something that doesn't transfer on the phone all that well. You try to compensate for it by talking or trying to say something, but all my words are meaningless compared to just a quick little smile from her.
I spent the weekend with my beloved LullaBelle. It is hard to conduct a long-distance relationship. The distance itself kills but on top of it you realize the things that you miss and you become jealous of a former version of yourself. Up until recently I had lived in a tiny little town, one in which I could bike across it from corner to corner in 10 minutes if the lights were red. Now I live in this overgrown suburb about 2 hours away. We are separated only by this distance but it seems like an eternity.
I had become addicted to spending time with her. I realize now that just her presence around me makes me happy. We talk on the phone and see each other as often as possible, but you learn that you miss just sitting quietly next to each other. Actually seeing them smile or laugh is something that doesn't transfer on the phone all that well. You try to compensate for it by talking or trying to say something, but all my words are meaningless compared to just a quick little smile from her.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
The First Day Back in the Gym
It is an annual thing for me. Once-a-year I go back to the gym for a period of about 12 weeks. It is a tradition that in the off-season I endeavor to put some muscle onto my others anorexic frame. Today is set for that first day. Just as a note, I dislike the gym. I don't like gyms in general because I've never been really the gym-guy. I've always been strong and/or fit, but I've never been that guy who can lift tons of weight and his as cut as the Rocky Mountains.
Therefore, I'm a little embarrassed by my gym going. I think the really embarrassing thing is my complete inability to bench press. I think that the rest of my weight lifting routine is or somehow soon becomes respectable but bench press never breaks into the remotely respectable range. For one reason or another bench press has become the symbol of strength. I don't know how this happened, but I really wish it would unhappen.
The thing I'm not looking forward to is tomorrow morning when I'm so sore that I cannot get out of bed. I hate that feeling, but at least I know I'm doing something then. My favorite thing is the stupid feeling you get right as you have started working out. About two days into it, you get this urge to check the mirror to see if you've gotten huge. Nothing works that quick...but I still do it. Come Friday afternoon I'm going to be standing there just trying to make myself imagine that I'm ripped.
Therefore, I'm a little embarrassed by my gym going. I think the really embarrassing thing is my complete inability to bench press. I think that the rest of my weight lifting routine is or somehow soon becomes respectable but bench press never breaks into the remotely respectable range. For one reason or another bench press has become the symbol of strength. I don't know how this happened, but I really wish it would unhappen.
The thing I'm not looking forward to is tomorrow morning when I'm so sore that I cannot get out of bed. I hate that feeling, but at least I know I'm doing something then. My favorite thing is the stupid feeling you get right as you have started working out. About two days into it, you get this urge to check the mirror to see if you've gotten huge. Nothing works that quick...but I still do it. Come Friday afternoon I'm going to be standing there just trying to make myself imagine that I'm ripped.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Tracing It
Today was the third time that my daily ride took me onto the Natchez Trace. I'm amazed that I don't ride on it more often. Actually, I'm really not that amazed. I ride about 50 minutes to the Trace and then maybe 20 minutes on the Trace and then back onto regular roads till I get home again. A total of 2 hours and 15 minutes. It's a great stretch of road to ride on. Even at rush hour there is no one on it; largely because there are no regular entrances and exits to it. I figure if I can just ban cars from my daily routes it'll be so much nicer. Sadly, that will never happen; but I can still dream of that day.
It's sad that the summer is slowly leaving. It's about 55 degrees when I wake up in the mornings. Granted, it's about 80 by mid-day but still I do not have the opportunity of enjoying the mid-day as much as I once did. I am guilty, I am one of those people who like the cold weather when it's July and love the heat in January. At least that means I'm looking forward to the weather turning a bit cooler; but come January, I'm not going to be happy about the development.
I do like riding in the cool weather, it reminds me of those lighter days in Kansas. Ah yes, the garden of eden that is Kansas. How I miss you when I'm gone and remember how bitter cold the winds are when I'm there. I gave the security guard a copy of my Kansas Alumni magazine. He was amazed...I really think he is going to enroll. I have nothing but love for my alma mater. I mean come on it made me into the man I am today.
Conservative Guy told me that I should keep it as a special place in my heart and use my visits back to recharge my youth when I need it. I keep thinking that I should have gone to school other places...I'm sure everyone thinks about how it could have been different if you did. But then I think, that I am so happy with the way things have turned out that why try to change that. I mean if I went somewhere else, then I wouldn't have such fond memories of Mass St., Wescoe Beach and Clinton Lake. I wouldn't remember nights that I have now forgotten. Days when Conservative Guy and I would struggle to stay awake in legal history class because of the shenanigans we pulled off the night before. I couldn't trade those memories for anything else. I mean there was a reason that God sent me to Kansas...I think it was a blessing and a way of saying that God does love me and hates Mizzou.
It's sad that the summer is slowly leaving. It's about 55 degrees when I wake up in the mornings. Granted, it's about 80 by mid-day but still I do not have the opportunity of enjoying the mid-day as much as I once did. I am guilty, I am one of those people who like the cold weather when it's July and love the heat in January. At least that means I'm looking forward to the weather turning a bit cooler; but come January, I'm not going to be happy about the development.
I do like riding in the cool weather, it reminds me of those lighter days in Kansas. Ah yes, the garden of eden that is Kansas. How I miss you when I'm gone and remember how bitter cold the winds are when I'm there. I gave the security guard a copy of my Kansas Alumni magazine. He was amazed...I really think he is going to enroll. I have nothing but love for my alma mater. I mean come on it made me into the man I am today.
Conservative Guy told me that I should keep it as a special place in my heart and use my visits back to recharge my youth when I need it. I keep thinking that I should have gone to school other places...I'm sure everyone thinks about how it could have been different if you did. But then I think, that I am so happy with the way things have turned out that why try to change that. I mean if I went somewhere else, then I wouldn't have such fond memories of Mass St., Wescoe Beach and Clinton Lake. I wouldn't remember nights that I have now forgotten. Days when Conservative Guy and I would struggle to stay awake in legal history class because of the shenanigans we pulled off the night before. I couldn't trade those memories for anything else. I mean there was a reason that God sent me to Kansas...I think it was a blessing and a way of saying that God does love me and hates Mizzou.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Nite Ridin'
The reality of the world has forced me to the point where I must become the nite rider. I wish I was as cool as the man himself, but unlike the Cincinnati Kid, I lack the boyish charms and bushy hair of David Hasselhoff. I am jealous; but Zurie my winter bike (not the new hotness that most of you have seen me on lately) comes equipped with red lights so she is not jealous of K.I.T.T (Knight Industries Two Thousand).
This morning was an eerie sight. All of my weekly rides start before the sun rises. I have taken to carrying more lights than most 18 wheelers but even then it is pitch black on these rural roads. This morning, it was overcast so even the stars and the moon weren't there to help me out. I had chosen one of the more back wood routes. This made everything really really dark. My helmet mounted headlights were on full-blast.
For those of you who have yet done a night ride I strongly recommend it, but only with the proper equipment. It changes your whole perspective on riding and on what you focus on. The entire road becomes a mystery, even ones that you have traveled over a million times before. The smallest false flat (faux plat to use the French) becomes a big surprise. If you thought once before that you could feel the road under you, you haven't really experienced it until this.
I crossed one of the million bridges that I normally cross this morning. It's a pretty bad one and normally requires paying attention to avoid falling through the watermelon sized pot holes. With the added pressure of the dark this morning it became a real test. I actually found myself with a huge branch halfway up my crank-arm and one more strong pedal stroke would have done me in. But the nuance of nite riding saved me. My spiderman-like-senses that have begun to develop felt what was coming and I was able to avoid it. It is as if I have become one with nature here again.
On the way back into my apartment complex I passed a Sonic. Each stall was taken by a car, pick-up or SUV. There was a funny smell in the air too, which probably elicited this thought. I realize now that Sonic drive-ins are the human version of a trough. The cattle pull in, get their fat served to them and then back out.
This morning was an eerie sight. All of my weekly rides start before the sun rises. I have taken to carrying more lights than most 18 wheelers but even then it is pitch black on these rural roads. This morning, it was overcast so even the stars and the moon weren't there to help me out. I had chosen one of the more back wood routes. This made everything really really dark. My helmet mounted headlights were on full-blast.
For those of you who have yet done a night ride I strongly recommend it, but only with the proper equipment. It changes your whole perspective on riding and on what you focus on. The entire road becomes a mystery, even ones that you have traveled over a million times before. The smallest false flat (faux plat to use the French) becomes a big surprise. If you thought once before that you could feel the road under you, you haven't really experienced it until this.
I crossed one of the million bridges that I normally cross this morning. It's a pretty bad one and normally requires paying attention to avoid falling through the watermelon sized pot holes. With the added pressure of the dark this morning it became a real test. I actually found myself with a huge branch halfway up my crank-arm and one more strong pedal stroke would have done me in. But the nuance of nite riding saved me. My spiderman-like-senses that have begun to develop felt what was coming and I was able to avoid it. It is as if I have become one with nature here again.
On the way back into my apartment complex I passed a Sonic. Each stall was taken by a car, pick-up or SUV. There was a funny smell in the air too, which probably elicited this thought. I realize now that Sonic drive-ins are the human version of a trough. The cattle pull in, get their fat served to them and then back out.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Work Time is Fun Time
It's been a little while, I admit it...but I'm still around. No longer am I the same struggling persons waiting to take the bar. I'm different, I'm changed. I have taken and pssed the bar exam. I am an attorney!!! Ok, that is not nearly as omnious as it sounds and really it is like that scene in Fight Club...you remember the one where the voice over says something to the effect of "the reels change and the movie goes on".
Life doesn't change and stop because you passed the bar. I wish I did. I think there should be one official day for every state in the country where they have a bar day. The entire country shuts down and celebrates the new admitted lawyers. Thinking about, it would definitely not be something that anyone who failed the bar would desire.
I mark the third pay period of my work with joy and happiness because passing the bar means that I am now the happy recipient of a raise. It's my first real raise of my life. I once had a raise while folding clothes for retail clothing store, but that doesn't count because it wasn't a real job. Now I have a real job and a real raise. It is just sad that I have to wait until November to see that raise, but everyday from here on out I feel richer. Also sadly I have to start paying my loans back...the state giveth and the federal government taketh away.
Life doesn't change and stop because you passed the bar. I wish I did. I think there should be one official day for every state in the country where they have a bar day. The entire country shuts down and celebrates the new admitted lawyers. Thinking about, it would definitely not be something that anyone who failed the bar would desire.
I mark the third pay period of my work with joy and happiness because passing the bar means that I am now the happy recipient of a raise. It's my first real raise of my life. I once had a raise while folding clothes for retail clothing store, but that doesn't count because it wasn't a real job. Now I have a real job and a real raise. It is just sad that I have to wait until November to see that raise, but everyday from here on out I feel richer. Also sadly I have to start paying my loans back...the state giveth and the federal government taketh away.
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