The Devil's Playthings

I've been trying to think of ways to occupy my time now that my spanish class is over. I am still at least a month or two away from going back to work and until now I've been content with my activities for the most part. It's only been recently that I've become somewhat bored. It is this lack of time-fillers that has led me to decide on a few things to keep things new.

One thing I've done is clean and revitalize my aquarium tank, prepping it for some Fire Bellied Toads. I've had one before that I inherited from Scott because he was moving to Portland but it died over a year ago. I let the tank sit empty up until recently but I managed to keep the water plant alive the entire time and I'm sure it's grateful in it's own plant way for the better light and the circulating fresh water. I am planning on having two or three toads this time so they can have some toad friends. These toads are social animals who will rest and cling to one another in and out of the water. I'm sure I'll have to make runs to the pet store to purchase crickets and mealworms on a regular basis to keep up with them. I'll entertain any name suggestions you may have.

Another way I've decided to stay busy is begin taking guitar or banjo lessons. I own one of each thanks to some family members who surprised me with the banjo a few Christmases ago. It remains one of the greatest presents I've ever received. When they gave it to me I wasn't quite sure what to say and I actually had to fight back a few tears. I don't know if they noticed that or not, but I was very touched.

While I've tooled around with both instruments, I've only recently taken them out of their cases full time and am using them in part as decoration. When I was in eighth grade I took a few weeks or so of banjo lessons from an extremely talented and well-respected banjo player named Jim Bowman. I enjoyed the lessons but decided to discontinue them because I didn't think the lessons were worth the ten-dollars-per-hour fee. Looking back, I wish I had stuck with it. As it turned out, Jim thought that I had more talent than he did at that age. I wish I had known that then or that my father had been more pushy. He contends that he never wanted to be one of the pushy parents -and he never was- but I wish he made that one exception. My feelers are out and I may go back to Jim for lessons again, assuming he still gives them and if the cost isn't too outrageous. If it's anywhere near the ten buck range I'd go five times a week!

I'm kicking around a few other ideas to stay busy. Some are artsy. Today I purchased a drawing pad and some charcoal sticks. I thought I'd try some charcoal drawing and see if I couldn't turn up something half respectable. I'm also brainstorming on a story for some animation I'm going to try and whip up. Who knows how successful that will be. My only fear is that I will try to do too many stimulating things at the same time and end up losing my motivation for all of them. I'll probably get into a groove just as I have to go back to work.

These are some of the things I'm working on to stave off boredom, all while following up with my spanish. I want to remain current and not forget what I've learned so far. I am still trying to work on the immersion trip to Costa Rica as well as a work-related trip to Eugene, Oregon.

I want to take a personal trip out to Portland, Oregon again this winter (whether I can snowboard or not) as well as another trip to New York City.

Keep checking back. I'll be sure to keep you up to date with where I don't end up going and which projects I abandon.

¡Mi clase de español es acabado!

It's official: My spanish class is over!

Yesterday (Monday) I had my final regular class which was the chapter eight test. I failed it, miserably, but the class is over either way. I knew going into the test that I would not fare well but I buckled down, pushed my way through and received a whole 40%!!!!! I was grading it myself before I turned it in and I figured I would only receive a 50% at best, so I wasn't really surprised. The teacher also tallied up the final course grade and told each student if he/she needed to take the "optional" final exam. It's "optional" because anyone can take it if they want to, but some people have to take it if they didn't meet specific requirements set forth on the first day. Those include, but are not limited to, watching the out-of-class videos, correcting test scores, and attending class.

After I turned my test in and he graded it, my teacher told me that I did not have to take the final exam and showed me my final course grade. Now, let's take a brief moment to review the circumstances here. Of all tests, your lowest grade will be dropped with the exception of the chapter eight test. That test will count no matter what. So far, not so good because of my 40%. The previous test (test six, which is not posted because he has it. I turned it in after making corrections because I failed it also) was dropped. That left the chapter 7 test (posted on the right) 64% averaged along with 74%, 75%, 96%, 100% and 100%. There were some other factors involved with the grading but suffice it to say that those 100s and the other A saved me. My final course grade is a 80%, a B. The good news is that it's a B as any other, like an 89. It's all the same. What makes it more humorous is that when he showed me my grade he kind of made some sort of noise and showed me his calculator which displayed a 79.9. He rounded it up to an 80 and told me not to take the final implying that it may drag my average to a C if I did poorly. I wasn't planning on taking the final anyway. It's cumulative and there's way too much stuff to cover by this Thursday.

I may go in and speak with the professor on Thursday to review my test scores, retrieve my chapter six test so I can post it, and get some advice regarding traveling to Costa Rica.


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more to come on life events as they unfold (or probably way after they unfold...)

Whatever

This is just a quick post to prove that I'm still alive and to illuminate and acknowledge that I'm losing motivation for certain things. Like blogging. I've had several ideas, trips or other goings ons that would make for wonderfully poetic blog posts sure to captivate and titillate but I haven't felt the desire to sit before this internet machine and type it up (which is kinda weird because once I begin typing I find it hard to stop). I'm also losing motivation for my Spanish class. I still enjoy it and still want to learn it as much as ever, but with the semester winding down and a poor grade on the last test (which, along with excuses, will be posted as soon as I get it returned to me by my instructor) I find it hard to take seriously anymore. I am ready to move on to Costa Rica and actually apply what I learned in a more practical and sink-or-swim format (also, today I had another test which I am expecting to do somewhat poorly, if not completely poorly on). It's not a lack of motivation for the Spanish, it's a lack of motivation to study for it. I sit down and try to study but always find a way to distract myself.

- On my way home today I stopped by my normal gas station and filled my tank up. I got a twenty-cent discount which dropped the price to $1.79/gallon. Paying thirty-eight bucks for a full tank versus the seventy-five it used to be is a welcome silver lining to a toilet bowl economy. Who says a recession and deflation are all bad?!?

- I feel as though I'm in a transitional phase of some sort. I just don't know what that entails or where I might come out after it's over. There's only one way to find out: keep a keen eye focused on my blog. Yep, that's how. I'm sure I'll post more about it...eventually.

Stay tuned.

Spanish Quiz and Exam

My Spanish class was recently given a geography exam in which we needed to label five countries and five capitals. I studied the night before and felt comfortable with all of the countries and capitals of the Spanish speaking world. After having taken the exam I thought I missed one. I was not sure of one particular country we had to identify and I was torn between Guatamala or Nicaragua. Naturally, I chose the wrong country, Guatamala. I was slightly surprised when I received my test back and saw a fat 70 written across the top. As it turns out, the other two errors were only technical. I neglected to put an accent in Panamá and I wrote "Dominican Republic" instead of "República Dominicana." I would have appreciated some partial credit because, technically, I had identified the countries as asked, but I am not going to fight the grade.

We also received our chapter five tests back today. This test felt slightly easier than the chapter four test and I finished it fairly quickly, both of which made me wonder how strong my results would be. I was anticipating a "B" because of my gut feeling and that I had some concerns over a few of my answers. After finishing I took an extra moment and went over my answers and ended up changing one. It's a good thing I did because had I not, I would not have received the 100 on the exam.

Chapter five test and the geography quiz are posted to the right.

A Breath Of Fresh Air

What's the Spanish Word for "Pathetic"?

I was speaking with two classmates as we were walking out of the most recent test. They both remarked how hard the test was while I was thinking the test was pretty easy. I also thought that my thoughts on it's ease would foreshadow a lower grade. I was right. I found it hard to study for this test and this is the test I should have studied for more than others. This chapter had more information than most and the teacher told us it was more involved. Aside from lack of proper studying, I had a little confusion on the test itself but our teacher was not present on test day. He had another instructor fill in for administering the test while he was gallivanting about doing who knows what. Either way, I'm not terribly happy with the result which was a "C". Could have been worse, I guess.

We just had a geography quiz on countries and capitals of the Spanish-speaking world. I believe I missed one out of ten. We'll get that back soon, maybe Monday, but we have the chapter five test then also. Those will be posted when I get them back. Try to hold back your excitement.

Fair and Balanced

I am not really one to watch Fox News, but as of late I've been logging more time with them to see how they are putting their conservative slant on the Presidential campaigns and other current event topics. I feel it's good to get a balance of perspectives although Fox News is anything but balanced. It's interesting to note that Fox News holds themselves to a "higher standard" and give off the impression that they are more civilized and intelligent than other people.

I was watching CNN a few weeks ago and Barack Obama was being interviewed by Wolf Blitzer. It was a short interview and I cannot even remember the subject matter although I think it may have been related to the economic crisis and the bailout, etc, etc... After the interview was over I turned over to Fox News and Brit Hume was doing his best to speak clearly about whatever nonsense was before him on the teleprompter. Brit Hume appears to have some disorder in which he mumbles and also talks as though his mouth is full of food. Whenever I am unfortunate enough to watch him I always anticipate him accidentally spewing food or drink out of his mouth and onto the table. Watch him and see if I'm wrong.

Back to my story - Brit Hume was talking about some non-memorable issue and mentioned that Barack Obama would be coming on in a few moments. Having just heard him speak on CNN, I wanted to see how different his interview was going to be on Fox. Brit Hume continued with his current story and transitioned to another one. This one caught my attention. Brit Hume, on Fox News, the nationally broadcast news channel, featured a story on an Hispanic man in South Charleston, West Virginia who was arrested for Driving While Intoxicated. Brit Hume continued explaining the story with intermittent chuckling. He said the man was arrested and while in the police station to take the breathalyzer exam the officer noted in his report that the man had "broken wind" in his face and that he had "detected a strong odor." The intoxicated man was then charged with assault on a police officer. Brit Hume could barely control himself or his mouthful of food during the entire story.

That's not much of a story especially considering that this was national news. Seems like such a small story and it came at such an odd time. Or so I thought. As soon as Brit Hume finished his story and swallowed more mouthjuice he announced that they were going to Barack Obama for the interview. There was no tangible break between the stories. Brit Hume went straight from farting in a police officer's face to Barack Obama with barely enough time for Brit Hume to clear his throat.

The funniest part of it all was Barack Obama's comment. As he was being introduced by Brit Hume he was visible on the splitscreen with a genial smile on his face. Then, first words out of his mouth in his typical composed self, Barack Obama told Brit Hume that he was "enjoying listening to the lead up" and began smiling from ear to ear. I laughed out loud. Seems strange that a national news broadcast would preface an interview with a candidate they don't support with a fart story. And I think that is very telling of Fox News and those who watch it as their primary news source. They feel they are more sophisticated or refined but they get their kicks from fart jokes. They are perpetually in sixth grade.

I thought maybe this was a fluke of some sort. That maybe they had a slow news day and had to fill their air with small town non-stories of people farting. That they were compelled to broadcast coverage of tispy tooters due to contractual obligations between Fox News and small municipalities under the Flatulence Agreement of Rural Towns (F.A.R.T.). But since I just made F.A.R.T. up, I have yet to see any of this documented anywhere so I am left to believe that they honestly believe fart jokes are funny (which they can be, in the right context. Not in news coverage, just in middle school gym class or in blogs).

So maybe it was a one time deal. I didn't think too much more about it until about six days later. I caught Brit Hume on again at the exact same time, six-thirty in the evening, on the dot. They had just finished some Obama story and it was followed by another unconnected story, this one from Australia. Brit Hume mumbled that some people in Australia were pushing for the use of kangaroos in place of cows as a source of meat. Brit Hume began chuckling again and continued stating that some people believe kangaroos are a better alternative for various reason including an environmental one. Brit Hume explained through his swampmouth chuckling that kangaroos emitted less methane than cattle. Brit Hume laughed again and that was the end of the story. How sophisticated.


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A quick note, Obama was born in Hawaii and is going back later this week to visit his ailing grandmother. There was a photo of him attached to the story in which he appears to be wearing Maui Jim sunglasses, a company based in Hawaii. It just so happens to be the kind of sunglasses that I wear and they appear to be the same style. If he didn't have your vote before, he should definitely have it now.

ACL Reconstruction Surgery

My knee surgery was a simple procedure by today's medical standards and I equated it with a visit to the dentist: you check in, go to the work room, the dentist does his stuff, you leave and he goes about his business for the rest of the day. While my procedure was slightly more complicated than a tooth cleaning or slapping on some porcelain veneers, the basic idea held up.

Upon arrival I checked in with the receptionist and had a seat in the waiting room where one other patient had already taken a seat. I noticed at least one other person come in after me and sit down before my name was called and I was whisked away to the back rooms of the surgical suite. There I was given my gown and was told I could keep my shorts on and they gave me a bed to lay in. Various nurses and doctors came and went all verifying what the procedure was going to be and which leg it was going to happen on. I had to point to the leg being worked on and a nurse drew a large neon green circle on that leg that the doctor later initialed. They started an IV on me and after having the area around my knee shaved they gave me a few pills to help start the anesthesia process. They wheeled me into the surgical suite, had me transfer to the surgical bed and told me to lay back and relax. By now the pills had begun to work pretty well and I was feeling light headed. They were still asking me questions which I fully remember still but I could tell I was getting loopy. A lady held the oxygen mask over my face and before she set it down over my nose and mouth she told me to just take a few deep breaths and relax, that it was "just oxygen." Being a little loopy, I didn't quite believe her and I thought this was the moment that I would be put under completely so I asked her, "Is that code for knock-out gas?" I remember taking two breaths and thinking I should take another one. That was it. Next thing I know I am waking up, freezing my ass off and shivering like I took the Polar Plunge. I knew immediately where I was and what had happened but my body didn't intuitively know that it took two to two-and-a-half hours to complete. They put me in a chair and put some blankets on me and maybe my fleece. After a very short time they wheeled me to an exit door where my ride had already positioned the car. I easily got up and entered the car and was transported home. That was it. In and out, assembly line style with the casualness of getting a dental check up.

Beginning that night I was supposed to begin using two devices. One is a fancy (and expensive) ice pack-like machine that pumps ice water from an insulated container (resembling an Igloo Cooler) through some tubes to a bladder designed to fit around the target body part. The ice water then circulates through and continually cools a large amount of area without having the aggravation of traditional ice packs. The blue bladder around me knee in the photos is the bladder. The other machine is a Continual Passive Motion machine (CPM). You strap your leg into the machine and it will slowly and quietly bend your knee over and over for a doctor-prescribed six hours a day. The purpose of this machine is to keep your knee flexibility so the scar tissue doesn't shorten your range of motion. This machine was only needed for about six days.

On the seventh day I had my follow up appointment. I went back to the doctor's office and was examined by a few medical personnel and had my sutures removed. The doctor took a look and thought I was progressing nicely. They also provided me with a few photos taken on the inside of my knee with their arthroscopic camera. Just as a reminder, I had a portion of my patellar tendon removed to replace the missing ACL. Here's a basic idea of how they remove the tendon:

When they took the brace and bandages off I was met with a bruised and shriveled leg. Blood from normal bruising had been pushed away from the knee by the bandages and had surfaced on my lower leg and mid-thigh. It was very dark and colorful but basically residual "bruising." I was too busy looking at my sutures and bruises that I didn't notice my quad muscles (the ones on the front of your thigh). Or I should say, I didn't notice where my quad muscles had been. I was told they would atrophy but I wasn't expecting it to happen within the first week. Apparently, it happens quickly because once some of the nerves are cut, as they would be with any knee procedure, the muscle dwindles away and "falls asleep." Through physical therapy you are able to reawaken some of the remaining muscle tissue but you will need to build some also. In the below first and second photo you can see the bruising or discoloration of my lower leg. In the third photo you can see the sutures, the entry point they used to remove my patellar tendon, and you can get a feel for how emaciated my leg now looks. My thigh is to the bottom of the photo, leading up to my knee, with my calf in the upper portion. And while my calves were small to begin with, the right calf is now slightly smaller than what it was. The striations you see on my leg were left from the bandaging.



The following will include links to the arthroscopic photos. Each photo is actually four photos together.

Let's examine the first photo. In the upper-left corner is a general photo from inside, looking across the knee to the other portal (a "portal" is the term used for the site where the arthroscopic scope/tools are inserted). Through the other portal you can see another scope. In the upper-right corner you can see what I was told was knee "junk." Just stuff in the knee. I cannot remember if that is natural or related to the injury. I do remember that the darker color is due to bleeding from the intial injury. It is supposed to be more white, like in the photo in the bottom-right. That photo is of my knee and looks pretty good. The last photo in the bottom-left is damage to the bone from the injury. That chip-mark is damage caused from bone-on-bone contact.

Looking at the second photo you can see where my ACL used to be. It would normally be extending from the bottom-right corner to the upper-left corner, heading through the little tunnel. The fibrous strands are what's left over of the ACL and they were removed during my procedure. In the upper-right photo is more of the torn ACL. I don't remember exactly what the two bottom photos are.

In the two upper photos of the third photo is my meniscus. The upper-left photo shows the damage done in the injury. It's roughed up a bit. The doctor trimmed it up and smoothed it out. The bottom two photos are of my new ACL, made up of my patellar tendon. This is the same location as the shredded ACL photo but after they threaded the patellar tendon through. The doctor told me that when they removed the patellar tendon they remove the middle third including the segments of bone it attaches itself to at the top and bottom. The patellar tendon is approx. the same length as your ACL and it's a somewhat natural pairing. They drill holes in your bone at a diagonal of your knee (so, above your knee to the outside, and below your knee to the inside) and thread the patellar tendon through the whole length. To secure the tendon in place they wedge the piece of bone the tendon was cut out with inside the drilled hole with a screw. Think of putting nails or splints into the handle-portion of an axehead to keep the head from being too loose, with the handle being the patellar tendon.

Each day I notice an improvement with the functionality of my knee. It doesn't necessarily hurt, but it's very tight from the swelling, very warm, and the bones ache from all the trauma. I still have a limp but it gets better. The pain is also helped by percocet, my new best friend. I don't get a high feeling from it or any crazy sensation that would make me want to abuse it, but when my knee is hurting the most, the percocet certainly make it feel more comfortable. Speaking of, I think I might go take some now.

Capítulo Tres Examen

I had my chapter three exam Monday, October 6th and the class did not receive them back until today. We usually get them the following class but the interim two classes had been cancelled. One for the "fall break" including Columbus Day (el dia de Cristóbal Colón) and the other because the teacher was out of the country (He apparently went to Tokyo and Thailand for a friends birthday. Not exactly sure what kind of friend this is or why he would travel around the world for a birthday, but I have theories). After completing and turning in the exam I didn't have a good feeling about how I performed. I knew I had missed several questions and had mispelled at least three answers. I was hoping the teacher might give credit or partial credit because the word was correct even if the spelling wasn't. Today, at the end of class we were given our exams back. He went to hand it to me and noticed my knee. He asked me how it was and told me to do whatever I had to do in class to make myself comfortable. I took my test and walked back to my desk which is when I looked at the top. I first noticed the letter grade, an "A". I was fairly surprised. I figured I would get a "B" at the highest and had spent this past week and half coming with excuses and ways to explain here in the blog why I did poorly. I don't feel like I have a need to explain much with an "A". I then looked at the numerical score. It was "100". I knew that couldn't be right. The obverse was perfect, but I had known that. The issues I identified were on the reverse. When I flipped it over I saw five strikes of red pen. Three were slashes and two were slashes which were circled. I do not know if they are mistakes, the teacher making marks to identify the key areas he was testing for, or just highlights for some reason. One thing I do know is that I didn't bring it to his attention. If he wants to give me a better grade than I can figure I deserve, who am I to tell him otherwise. So, I got a 100. Super. I posted the test on the right like always.

Good day to you.

Distorted Rear View

It's now been almost four days since my ACL reconstruction surgery and the whole experience hasn't been terribly dreadful. Sure, I can't walk well or quickly, can't flex my leg so that it stretches the muscles which are screaming for contraction, can't drive anywhere and have to strap myself to a machine for six hours a day which flexes my knee for me, but it could be worse, right?

I think there's something to be said for lounging on the couch, watching television programming that you find completely uncompelling and tedious. On the flip side, at the very least, my daily activities are stress free. Unless you consider having to allot a few extra minutes to hobble down a fifteen foot hallway to the bathroom stressful. I find it more annoying than anything else. It's frustrating having to lift your leg up manually because it's too sensitive to lift normally. It's frustrating to be forced into what is essentially house arrest. And to add insult to injury I have no view out my window so living some fantasy a la Shia LaBeouf in Disturbia just won't happen (unless you count my fifty-something neighbor who has spoken to me twice in the past few weeks...which is also two times more than any other neighbor has spoken to me, but after seeing her you won't consider her a fantasy...).

The pain gets better each day and the Percocet helps take the edge off. I am having trouble sleeping through the night partly due to the leg and partly due to the medicine. I get tired easily at night and I'll go to bed only to wake an hour later, piss like a racehorse, hobble out and drink some water and then hobble back to bed or to the couch. If I choose the couch I strap myself into the medieval Continuous Passive Motion (CPM) machine and crank it to a light level. It helps me sleep because it keeps the leg from getting restless. Generally while I use this machine I am hooked to a cold water circulator. That helps with the swelling and whatever else. I'm supposed to use the CPM machine for a minimum of six hours and use the cold water circulator for twelve hours. Each day. That's a lot of time doing nothing. I have no plans until my follow up doctors appointment on Wednesday. Even then I can't drive there. I have to rely on someone else for chauffeuring or any higher task which I've thankfully been able to avoid thus far. The temporary loss of independence is certainly a different feeling. I'm not used to being slowed down or not physically being able to do something or anything for that matter.

In the meantime, between my passive leg movements and eating Percocet like Skittles, I'm gonna try to find constructive things to do. I just hope I can find my binoculars.

If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It

But it is, so it's gonna be.

It's official: Surgery on my knee will be this Thursday, October 9th. I have elected to have my patellar tendon used to replace my ACL versus the other methods. There will be a long recovery but I don't have a choice. Let's just hope they get the correct knee...

Los Exámenes de Español

By now, if you're brain hasn't been diluted with all of the political sewage in the news or been dulled by the standards of No Child Left Behind, you've probably figured out that I am taking a Spanish class. In an attempt to share the successes and failures of learning a new language, I am making available my exams for your viewing pleasure.

I shall post each one here as I get them returned. I have already taken the first two exams and posted them to the right-hand side of the blog. Each thumbnail will lead you to a larger version to reveal my grade and excellent handwriting skills.

The class will be given an exam after each chapter has been finished. We should have a total of eight exams this semester and they should all be the same format. The exams are one page, front and back with fill-in-the-blanks or circle-the-right-answer type of questions. They remind me of early high school or middle school worksheets but I suppose the professor knows what he's doing.

I didn't do as well as I had hoped on the first exam, but I have my reasons. 1) This was the first exam given and I had no clue as to the format. It was deceptively simple looking and almost too easy. So easy looking that I overthought a lot of the questions. 2) I had been on vacation the week prior and was busy up until the day of the test. While I "studied" down at the beach, you can imagine how greatly embedded in my brain the material was. Suffice it to say, I was not in a Spanish mindset whilst taking the test. For example: the "plurals" section of the first test. As I was writing down my answers I knew and told myself the rule of plurals (if the word ends in a vowel add "s"; if the word ends in a consonant add "es") but ignored it out of brain fatigue and apathy.

The second exam seemed harder and it took me longer, but I emerged hoping my old pattern would hold true. Whenever an exam felt difficult I would end up doing well on it. If the exam felt easy, I would do worse. The pattern held.

HOORAY FOR LEARNING!!!

Keeping It Fresh

I've made a few changes to the blog and will continue to update and change things around periodically. I have a slew of new ideas to make it the bloggiest blog in the whole blogosphere!!!1

As I change the layout, format or color scheme, let me know if the changes are good or bad, better or worse. Any input you provide will be considered and you never know when one of your suggestions might make it through! But please understand that this is an autocratic blog so I'll probably just piss away your idea and do something less exciting and more inappropriate, but don't let that stop you! Post your ideas in the comments section and we'll see if, together, we can't make magic.

Music To My Ears

The other day while in "la clase de español," I overheard some students discussing music of the nineties. They did not like the stylings of the album covers and were perplexed that the artists would title a song something completely different than any of the lyrics. They were mystified that the song title itself was not included as a lyric or a lyric as the title. Oh well, you can't go back in time and make all 90's bands totally awesome or as lyrically insightful as Jonas Brothers.

Jonas Brothers (full disclosure: I hadn't heard a single Jonas Brothers song until I began writing this. I listened to some on Amazon.com. In a word, Brilliant.) have obvious lyrics which directly relate to the song title and vice versa. That way our dumbed down young people (thanks to No Child Left Behind) won't get confused about which song they are currently listening to.

For instance, take the Jonas Brothers' song, "Burnin' Up" (please, take the song...bada bing!). It's upbeat, totally rockin' and has some strong lyrics relating to fire. What you might or might not have guessed is that it's probably just a metaphor. My first instinct was that the singer was literally on fire. After listening to the song, though, I changed my mind because the singing didn't seem frantic and there was no screaming. But, as I began to read the lyrics I wasn't so sure anymore. The singer first talks about how he's hot. And then how he's slippin' into lava, which we all know is very hot. and burns. He then goes on to say that he's burning up!!!1 This confirmed my initial thought that he was literally ablaze. But before any arsonphobes could have a heartattack the singer quickly tells us that while he states he's "burning up," he is, in fact, "burning up"...for her, metaphorically. Apparently she turns the temperature hotter, all according to the lyrics (I can't vouch for it - I've never met the girl, although she seems nice). This song is a great example of cutting-edge performers pushing the envelope and taking musical and lyrical risks. Of course they use a lyric for the title, there's no other way to correlate which track you're hearing to the lyrics. It'd be too confusing. There's a connection.

My fellow students, who are of the ripe age of around 18, blossomed while listening to music in the mid-2000's just as I did with the early-to-mid 1990's music. (They graduated high school in 2008, by the way) It's not that they don't like the music from the 90's, they are just removed from it by a few years and the popular genre and style had changed by the time they could fully appreciate music. I remember commenting numerous times about how shitty 80's music is (I do find some 80's music enjoyable but not the new wave swill and the completely synthesized bullshit).

I guess the conversation I overheard was more alarming not for the content itself but that it served as a marker that I am getting older. It doesn't bother me and I wouldn't want to be back at 18 anyway. And getting older certainly beats the alternative.

For now, I am off to "download" something called an "mp3." I'm not sure what it is but it's all the rave with the kids these days. I hope you enjoy some awesome music whether it be from the 80's, 90's or today. Just be sure to keep the volume at a reasonable level.

Cassandra Is Definately Awesome!

Why is the word "definitely" so hard for people to spell correctly? I've seen it spelled various ways including "definitly," "defiantly," and most often, "definately." The first one is possibly accidental with the "e" being left out by a lazy middle finger. The second one is a seperate word just used incorrectly for one reason or another, but it's still a failed attempt to use the word "definitely." The last one is ignorance...and a lack of using spell check. I don't use spell check because I don't need it. Whenever I see an error it jumps off of whatever I'm reading and slaps me across my face. It's completely disstracting and slows my already slow reading and comprahension skills. I am such a dork for properness and accuracy that it bugs me when i see that others have not made the same effort. It's just another reminder that our society is tumbling backwards as ignorence reins supreme and is rewarded with no ill consquences. I wish there was an online petition to educate people and finally put an end to the mispellings that plague electronic communications. If I can find one I will post the link here on my blog. If you find one, send me the link. I will definetly sign it!

So I'm a lazy blogger. Big whoop. Wanna fight about it?

Okay, so I'm not the greatest blogger in the world. Sue me. I don't update my page as often as I should/could because my life is filled with non-exciting things that aren't worth the time to share. I've also realized that no matter how short and concise I struggle to make my blog entries, I always end up with long posts which even I find somewhat unbearable. I've made the executive decision to put forth a concerted effort to reduce the length and wordiness of my posts. So far, this post has failed that initiative. But I'm gonna try...at some point.

So here's the latest on me for anyone who doesn't know. I am not actively working because I was hurt during a training exercise. I've been to the doctor and I officially have a completely torn ACL and a tear in my meniscus in my right knee. I will be scheduling surgery soon and it will most likely be towards the end of September. After that I will have rehab and the recovery process may take months before I can walk without a brace on and possibly nine months or so before I will be able to use my knee at full capacity. That's if everything goes to plan. Awesome.

Also, I've started taking a Spanish class which I've been wanting to do for years now. I have also been trying to plan out a trip to Costa Rica for a month or two after this semester is over. I figured an immersion trip would greatly increase my spanish fluency and also give me a kick ass vacation at the same time. I am fearful my knee may slow down my progress from spanish class by forcing me to have too many absences. The teacher's policy is that after four missed classes, regardless of reason, the student automatically receives a failing grade. He does this to encourage attendance and hopefully I may speak with him and work some deal out but I am not overly optimistic he'll be sympathetic to my situation. I am not even concerned about my grade, mostly. I am in the class to actually learn the language, not satisfy some school requirement in order to progress academically or graduate. On the other hand, being as competitive as I am, I will be very disappointed if I don't receive an "A" or maybe an "A+++," if they give those.

I had a lot of things I was looking forward to doing in the upcoming six months or so. The spanish classes, the Costa Rica trip, a trip to Eugene, Oregon to take a bicycle mechanics course for work (and then visit my buddy Scott in Portland while I was on left coast), maybe some other traveling, I have my vacation coming up in a week, trips to Atlantic City (which may occur in October with some work buddies who told me about the trip last night), and other things.

I am hoping to hobble my way through all of these. And blog about them of course. But not lengthy, long worded blogs. Short, concise blogs that don't have much flowery language. Or short sentences. One day I will get it right.

Good day to you.

Mi nombre es Billy Madison

Remember Billy Madison's first day of high school (the second time) when he drove up in his Firebird rocking out to Billy Squier's The Stroke? I felt a twinge of that same older-person-in-younger-atmosphere on Monday, the first day of classes of the fall semester.

I had registered for class, paid my tuition, had my lunch packed up and boots tied tight and was on my way to the first day fall semester classes Monday at the illustrious university known as Northern Virginia Community College. I had attended this fine institution for a short time earlier in life just after high school but am now returning in order to acquire some Spanish skillz.

There were a few key differences that I noted right away. The first is that the school added a new building in the past few years and the majority of the classes are held in that building instead of the old. The parking lots have been expanded and some landscaping has changed, but the old building is pretty much the same. The library has the same 1970's look and feel to it, save the updated computers. I was pleased for the school to notice that while they still had desktop computers on their desktops all of the monitors were flat screens. It shows that the school can make some progress, even if it is just progressing to the early 2000s.

As I was walking on the sidewalk to find my Spanish class I observed two Indian girls (dots, not feathers) speaking with one another. This is a typical scene because those people are everywhere so I didn't pay much attention to it. As I looked away from the girl who was talking to the girl who was listening I immediately had a moment a clear recognition. I recognized the listening girl as Jyoti Ngongogo. That's not her last name but I guarantee it's eerily similar. I never knew her last name, just her first. I knew her as a fellow student who also participated in the same process I did to transfer to Virginia Tech. I walked past the two girls without saying anything. We weren't really friends then and I don't want to be friends now. That would be an interesting conversation though. "Hey, Jyoti. Remember me from a biology class we had here over ten years ago?" "No."

While walking through the new building toward my third floor classroom I noticed the campus buzzing with people new to the "college life" and just hanging out between classes. Those were the days. No real focus, no real responsibility. It all reinforced how far I've gone from then till now and hammered home those differences. There were some basic differences between my first NOVA experience and this one. First, I drove my own car, not my mom's. It seemed that everyone who was hanging out and not engaged in gossiping about their most recent Facebook extravaganza was on a cell phone, half chatting, half texting. I also noticed a handful of people waiting along the curb waiting to be picked up by a parent or friend. This is also when I realized that the majority of these people still live at home.

I got to the classroom and took a seat in the little desk/chair combo things. It's been a while since I sat in one of these and it brought back fond memories of learning. The teacher walked in and the class eventually quieted down. He took "roll" and everyone was said "here" except for one girl who should probably be in an advanced course because she apparently knows some Spanish already. When her name was called, she he said "aqui."

The teacher appeared to be in his fifties, wore khakis with a tucked in polo shirt which was stretched over his belly, grey hair, and had dark-framed glasses. You could kinda tell by the way he walked in, but when he began speaking you could tell he was super Fabulous!

I think the teacher and the class will be great. I've already connected some dots of Spanish that I already had. I feel like I may pick this language up with no issues and be great at it.

Wish me Bon Chance! ...I mean, Buena Suerte!

Pet Peeves

For a while now I have been intending on picking up some items for work at my usual supply store. I drove down a month or more ago to Manassas only to find that the store had gone out of business. This was particularly troubling to me for several reasons: 1) I had driven to "beautiful" Manassas for, as it turned out, nothing; 2) the supply shop was one of three reasons to drive to Manassas but now that triumvirate will be broken and I can't convince myself to return anytime soon; and C) the supply shop was located directly across from the MVC (which, for those not in the know, is short for Manassas Video Club, an "adult" purveyor of motion pictures and novelties). Now with my legitimate supply shop being closed I have to face the shame of entering the store for more than "curiosity" and to "just browse" because I was "in the area." I hated feigning surprise each time I walked in and having to say "this isn't the Blockbuster!" out loud. That method didn't work well anyway because the owner was always there and would always recognize me. He makes an effort to remember his big-time clients who buy in bulk.

So back to my original reason for writing. I drove all the way out to "beautiful" Winchester, Virginia to pick up my work supplies from the now-nearest place I could find. After sixty minutes and an eighth of a tank of gas I finally made it. After I was finished selecting my various items and was being rung up by the less-than-attentive clerk, he asked if he could see my "creds." I looked at the items I was purchasing and asked him why he needed to see them because the items were very innocuous and benign. He told me it was only so I could get the discount. I opened my wallet, showed him what he wanted, and after rendering payment I headed out the door. I was relieved to be leaving because, just as with other supply stores or gun shops, they are filled with squirrelly people who work there solely for the perceived penis extension. They just creep me out.

I was getting hungry but didn't want to stop at a Winchester fast food establishment so I waited until I got back to good ol' Ashburn. I try my best to avoid fast food in the traditional sense but find it hard to do. I've eaten McDonalds a few times in the past several months and I've enjoyed some Chick-fil-a twice in the same time frame. Those are typically only when I'm working and I have no other options. One place I do frequent without much guilt despite each visit earning me 1,200 calories is Chipotle. I might eventually post an entry devoted entirely to Chipotle and how great it is, especially in comparison to Moe's Southwest Grill, but that'll have to wait.

Getting back on track here to my "pet peeves." I stopped by Chipotle on the way home and while standing in line I saw a typical older Ashburn couple dressed in business casual attire ahead of me ordering their food. Nothing was odd or noticeable about them compared to anything else until I overheard them discussing if they wanted to get some "guac" or not. Now, I love guacamole as much as the next person, but what I do not love are little nicknames or pet names for everyday items. I try not to be lazy with words. I certainly don't mind taking the time to invest in pronouncing the entire word as laid out by any given dictionary but I've noticed a lot of people do. When I get a burrito from Chipotle, I ask to have "guacamole" on it. What is so hard about saying the entire word? And to be hit twice in the same day with the earlier "creds." I also dislike "tennies" for tennis shoes and "sosh" for social security number. I just like saying things the right way.

The only exception I might have would be "douche" for referring to people as "douchebags" when they use abbreviated words or work at a gun shop, or both.

They Should Come With Warning Labels

Yesterday, just before leaving for work I decided to continue with my healthy eating trends and take some trailmix to work to snack on instead of driving-through a local fastfood eatery or some other equally unhealthy food establishment. I've enjoyed this particular brand of trailmix in the past but have always thought that a few extra raisins couldn't hurt. I decided to add a few raisins myself from my little box o' raisins I had purchased (also in an effort to eat more healthily) but wanted to make sure they were not going to come out in clumps as they tend to do. I grab the box of raisins, take the lid off to check the current level and clumpy factor, and decide that the three-quarters full box of clumpy raisins needs some unclumping. I place the lid back on and begin to shake the box vigorously in order to unclump them raisins. Maybe I underestimated my own strength, but after a few good shakes I could hear the raisins loosening up and I smiled to myself with great pride realizing that my grand scheme was working better than planned. Just as I had this thought I gave the box another shake or two and I could feel the lid slipping off the top. It happened so quickly that I couldn't stop myself and a few extra shakes was more than enough to eject the raisins. I was met with a beautiful rainbow shower of raisins cascading all over the kitchen. On the stove. On the countertop. On the floor. On me. Everywhere.


The moral of the story is don't eat healthy. Or at least use caution when eating healthy. Or just don't be an idiot. Either way, they were delicious.

Kinda Like Old Times

Saturday night I met up with my friends Gavin, Matt and Dave at the Amphora Diner in Herndon. Over the past ten years there have only been a handful of times that we've all been able to gather together like this and, to be honest, I don't really remember any of those previous times specifically. We've all done things and gone places that keep us apart and Saturday was one of the rare occasions that we were all in the same place at the same time.

As I pulled in to park, the first thing I saw was a dressed up guy and girl standing in the middle of the parking lot, right where I wanted to park. I was waiting for them to walk past but they had stopped to adjust...her corsage. They were quite obviously there for their prom dinner and while at first I was surprised to see them in the Diner parking lot, I like the idea of the "alternative" dinner for prom. As it turned out, they were the first of about five or more couples who were together, all dressed in lovely prom dresses and tuxedos.

I met Gavin at the Diner first because Matt and Dave were late working on their weekly web series, Reservation. Gavin and I went inside and got a table right away. We live twenty minutes apart but rarely get to have any time to hang out. It was nice to have some time to find out what's been keeping him busy. He just finished school, he and his wife Heather just bought a new car, and he spends time with their 5-month-old son, Ben, who has understandably been the main focus of his time. Gavin seems really pleased to be a father and I don't know if he's been any happier. He says that he enjoys spending time with Ben more than anything, despite how exhausting he says it is. I can't relate completely because I'm not a father, but I get the idea.

Gavin and I discussed various topics and ordered some food while we waited for Matt and Dave. Halfway through our food they showed up and sat down. The four of us began discussing a variety of topics, some of which involved technology and new media. That's not a total surprise seeing as Matt and Dave were working on their web series and Gavin just got his degree in Computer Science. Fortunately, the conversation wasn't too nerdy, only kept in check by some ball busting which was mostly focused at Gavin.

We finished our meal, paid our check and headed outside. Gavin was the first to leave because of the whole wife and kid thing. Then for a few moments longer, Dave, Matt and I stood around just chit chatting about more stuff. Nothing in particular, but I do recall a brief discussion on a possible trip to Montana I may take soon and the various aspects surrounding that trip. It was the standing in the parking lot talking that reminded of the old days when that's what we would do after eating or doing something. When we finished talking we headed to our cars and drove away, back to our individual lives with our own schedules and families, etc.

For those who didn't know, Gavin, Matt, Dave and myself were once in a "band" called Sun Cracked Vinyl. It totally rocked despite not having any real performances. We did "perform" for a small crowd of about eight one night and we did have one actual rehearsal/recording session. In total we had almost a dozen "songs" and out of that recording session we recorded approximately eight or nine of them. While not very good, it was still waaaay better than we anticipated. We just didn't give ourselves much credit, I guess. Matt played the bass, which, if I remember correctly, he had only been playing for a very brief time. Gavin played the lead guitar. He had been playing for years and was the most advanced member on their chosen instrument. Dave wound up singing, partially because he didn't have any instrument to play and nor did any of us want to sing...we had our instruments to play of course! I played the drums. I bought my little drum kit from my buddy Todd who was all-too-eager to accept the one hundred dollar price I had offered. His eagerness told me that I probably could have gotten it for free, or at least much cheaper, but I was just excited to get the drums. After some replacement heads, it was as good as new, or at least as good as new with duct tape and other modifications.

Our one rehearsal/recording session was in the basement of a friends house just south of Leesburg. Her parents and sister were gone for the weekend or something like that and she lived in an area that the neighbors were far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hear the rockin'est music to shake their souls. I only mention this because I found some photos of that recording session. We recorded our songs using a microphone or two which we attached to Gavin's laptop. High technology. The photos will only be "fun" for the folks involved but I'll share them anyway. I've also included a snippet of the longest track we laid down that night, "Jam." We called it "Jam" because all we did was play whatever came to mind while Dave freestyled the lyrics. We ended up playing for almost twenty-five minutes but I've narrowed the included selection to the first two minutes and seventeen seconds.

No prepared music. No prepared lyrics.
Prepare to have your socks rocked off.

Biking North Fork Goose Creek

I had plans to go biking on Saturday with my friend Todd and maybe his wife Erin, but I got word that those plans had changed. Instead of going biking there was a canoeing/kayaking adventure to be had. Todd and I decided that we would try going biking on Sunday instead.

I got word that the bike trip was on and after driving over to his house we were trying to decide which area to take. Our options were staying on the back roads which would make for an even and predictable ride or we could take a back trail/off road path that would be more adventurous. Naturally, we chose the harder off road path.

We headed down a nearby road before taking a quick turn and heading down the mountain, through some woods, and ending up near a small stream. We peddled across the stream at a low point and came to an area that appeared to be mostly marshland. As we peddled through it I confirmed it was marshy because I had to place my foot down multiple times due to the soggy conditions and my bike tires not getting enough traction. Each time my foot touched the ground it slowly sunk about four inches down into muddy water.

We continued, soggy feet and all, until we had to cross the stream again. There was a place where you could attempt to ride across the stream but you would never make it, even in dry conditions. It was too steep on both sides and you have to go down and back up about five feet on both sides. We decided we had to jump the six foot gap. Todd went first and continued down just a bit. I was considering the best way to jump over the stream without falling the four or five foot drop into the water. Just as I decided I would just jump while holding my bike I heard a loud thud and looked over to see that Todd had fallen almost face first into some shrubbery. He let out a groan followed by some laughter. After he stood up he told me that he had fallen into a pricker bush. I then grabbed my bike and leapt across the gap successfully.

We began peddling along the stream in super muddy conditions until we came upon the "swinging bridge" that crosses the North Fork of Goose Creek. Todd looked at the water level and decided it was "passable" on bike. He dropped his bike into the creek to wash the accumulating mud off his brakes and the mud off his tires and then started crossing while I was inspecting the bridge. About halfway through I heard him yell and heard some splashing. While he didn't fall completely into the creek he had to hop off and walk the rest of the way. I decided to try the bridge. I propped my bike up on the boards of the bridge and figured I would walk down the bridge and then pick my bike up. The opening to the bridge is set between some large branches and was barely big enough for me to fit through, much less my bike. As I began walking along the bridge my confidence was as shaky as the bridge was, despite some recent renovations. I slowly made my way towards my bike hoping not to shake it off the boards and dropping it to the ground. I finally got to my bike and made it across to the other side.

We continued biking through some grassy areas and came to what was basically a back yard to someone's house. The trail was marked at this point and a resident who was outside didn't seem bothered by our presence. We continued to the main roads and headed back. That last part on the main roads was mostly uphill and was the most tiring part of the entire ride. We did take a quick break on a bridge and watched some cattle taking turns trying to mount one another. Good ol' Loudoun County! By the time we got back we had only enough energy to hose the bikes down and sit on the front porch and hydrate. It was a great ride and we're gonna hit it again soon.

Free Weekend

My original plans for the weekend of May 16th, 17th, and 18th were cancelled and I was stuck with a weekend away from work and the option to do whatever I pleased. I was also in need of getting away from this area and clearing my head. I began brainstorming and considered a few choices. One was to fly to Hawaii. My buddy Steve has been down there for about six months but is slated to return next month. In his remaining time there I could have visited and had a free place to stay making it the cheapest Hawaiian vacation I could possibly take. But, instead of rushing the trip and dropping $1,300.00 on a plane ride, I decided to stay in the contiguous states. I also considered flying out to Portland to visit my buddy Scott, but I never really discussed it with him and he was going to be out of that area for a few days on work related business. It would have been nice to go out there again. I went out there in February for a few days and had an awesome time. Portland was a great city with an awesome feel and great people. The bars and restaurants are laid back and snowboarding on Mt. Hood was incredible. I will be going there again in the future, just not this particular weekend in question. I also considered going to New York to visit another buddy, Dave. He has lived there for the past three or so years and is currently living in Brooklyn. I haven't been up to visit him but, as it turned out, he was coming back for the weekend for a wedding. I did get to meet up with him when I gave him a ride from the metro station to the rehearsal dinner. It was good to see and talk with him. Another consideration was a trip to Atlantic City. I figured I could drive up there and make some money playing poker. I decided against it because I thought it could get pretty boring being by myself when I wasn't seeing flops and seedy hotels and prostitutes just aren't my style.

Another option that manifested quickly was to visit my friend Kim in Raleigh, North Carolina. I met Kim the first day I attended Virginia Tech and we've been friends ever since. We haven't been able to see each other very often for various reasons. Part of that is the five hour drive and another is that we've been in relationships which make it more difficult to drive that distance to visit a member of the opposite sex without arousing suspicion or jealousy in the current girlfriend/boyfriend. It's just easier to keep things drama-free.

I was speaking with Kim one evening prior to the weekend I had free and she mentioned that her weekend plans had also been canceled. We figured this may be one of the few times our schedules would match up so I threw some clothes in a suitcase and drove down. It would be the second time I've been to Raleigh and the first time we would have seen each other in just over two years.

I arrived there late Friday night, I think around midnight or so. She gave me the tour of her new house and introduced me to her dog, Ranger. We talked for a little while before deciding it was a good idea to get some sleep.

The next day we went to Durant Nature Park and walked along one of the various trails which paralleled a creek. It was a beautiful day but the park wasn't very crowded. We walked down the trail talking and catching up with all the latest goings-ons. We would stop along the creek periodically and get distracted by various snake sightings. We saw a few here and there which all appeared to be the same species. At first glance I thought they may have been venomous Copperheads, but when they would take to the water and swim around like they enjoyed it I knew they weren't. They would swim all around and go under rocks and come up and just lounge around like they were in their own personal swimming pool. I guess, in a way, they were. We looked up possible snakes on the internet and found out that they were Northern Water Snakes. Makes sense.

That night Kim and I went to Tir Na Nog, a bar in downtown Raleigh. It was really nice and the fish 'n chips was quite good. Afterwards we sat at the bar and had a few drinks. Well, Kim had one beer because she was driving. I, on the other hand, had quite a few Newcastles. Nothing overly crazy, but I was feeling pretty good. The band we originally thought was going to play had to cancel. They are apparently very popular in the Raleigh area and were replaced with some cover band. The replacement band was actually good and played a good selection of songs.

The rest of the weekend went well. On Sunday we went to the movies and ate some delicious Chipotle. We had been discussing our dinner options and Mexican food came up. Somehow that led to Chipotle and the revelation that Kim had never been. She then decided that she would give it a go. She said it was pretty good although she could only compare it to Moe's, which is terribly substandard. I noticed the Raleigh Chipotle burrito tasted slightly different than the burritos I was used to, but they could have put a dirty diaper inside a tortilla and it still would have tasted better than any burrito from Moe's.

I drove back on Monday and had to readjust to my normal life. All-in-all it was a great weekend and I was happy to get away and see a friend I hadn't seen for quite some time.

Biking In Lake Fairfax

Yesterday, after feeling restless and not wanting to waste the beautiful day we were having, I decided to drive to Lake Fairfax Park in Reston for a bike ride. I've been here a few times overall and have yet to be disappointed with the one trail I have always ridden. The trail parallels a creek and winds through wooded areas and crosses various roads including Route 7 at one point. There are also several points where you ride through the creek. I have yet to find a comparable ride in Loudoun without subjecting myself to trespassing and having to outrun a shotgun blast of rocksalt.

It was such a nice day out I was caught off guard when I arrived and saw the park virtually empty. I figured people weren't taking advantage of the day because they were still working due to it being Friday, people were out of the area getting a head start on their Memorial Day weekend, or the park was closed and I was, indeed, trespassing. I saw no signs saying they were closed and continued into the park. I drove to the picnic area which is quite often reserved for large functions. I found a few vehicles parked in this area and a small group of people beginning a cookout but nobody gave me the stinkeye so I parked and saddled up.

I began down the trail and noticed there were plenty of muddy spots leftover from the recent rain we've had. I wasn't terribly in the mood to clean my bike later so I tried to somewhat avoid the deepest spots. I made it through relatively clean and afterward was somewhat disappointed by my own wussiness. Getting out and dirty was half the point!

I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't see anyone on the trail for a while. I was so busy focusing on the trail directly in front of me that I almost didn't see a female jogger coming toward me. I'd like to say there was an almost-collision, but I don't want to be overdramatic, although I only saw her at the last moment. She was jogging along listening to music and was certainly cute enough to talk with, but I didn't. And not just because of my wussiness. Mostly because she was heading in the opposite direction and distracted by her music. I also didn't want to get a facefull of pepperspray which she undoubtedly kept hidden inside her sportsbra. I'll tell you quite honestly, after having been exposed to pepperspray before, I'd much rather take that shotgun blast of rocksalt.

Aside from the squirrels, there was a lack of animal sightings on the trail. I've never really seen any on any of my trips out to the park, but I am always hoping. I did see a hawk sitting in the creek but before I could get my camera out it flew off. I did see evidence along the trail and creek bed of deer and other animals.

I casually began riding back to my jeep and saw a few other people riding their bikes. I also saw the jogger again. This time I got a better look. Perhaps it's okay that I didn't talk with her.