Random Questions… give me some comments as responses!

1. What are the top three qualities you look for in the person you want to date/marry?
2. Is it okay to kiss on the first date?
3. If you could survive any historic disaster, what would it be?
4. If you had to choose a different religion, what would it be?
5. If you had to describe the silliest thing people do in general, what would you say?
6. What is the most romantic gift anyone could give you?

1. Strong Faith in Christ, Amibition, and a willingness to learn and try new things
2. I think it can be, but I think it needs to be nothing too fancy… no going nuts on the first night
3. Pompeii… I think the pictures from those houses are gorgeous, and I think living in that time would have been nice… then to watch the volcano explode, I dunno… it’d be I think altogether awe-inspiring.
4. Buddism – It seems like there’s such peace, and just an emphasis is placed on self-awareness, which is something I respect greatly.
5. Get mad about the past – there’s nothing anyone can do about it now.
6. Something that embraced who they are – something they made or did or lived that is everything they are. I got a gift like that, and it was incredible.

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Work done tally:

Midweek:

Economics – Read a bit of what I had to read… check
Modern Civ – Done
Strategic Marketing – That’ll get done today; I’ll write up a fancy little brochure for Slovak Folk Crafts… mmmhmmm.

Hope all is well. I’m off to Pittsburgh soon to go pick up my brother, maybe go to Ikea, and then head home. I’m feeling a little better, just achey all over.

peaceandlove

100.3 and rising… huwah!

So in the never ending irony that is my life, after pledging I’d work harder on my grades, I now have a temperatue of 100.3 and crazy body aches. I’m sick, folks, and chances are will be even post my return to Grove City.

Towards a more verbose entry:

The word diatribe… if you put bitter in front of it, isn’t that a little redundant? I mean, can you have anything but a bitter diatribe, or something related. In other words, I doubt you can have a joyful diatribe.

If I am in error, please let me know.

So my brother might get an externship at a place near home, which would be really nice for him – no rent, learning experience, and when I come home I can get homecooked culinary graduate food. mmhmmmm.

TO and MNF – apparently there was a cartoon in the Tribune Chronicle that showed a family talking about it, and during it there was Viagra commercials and all that. 50,000 people wrote in to the FCC to complain, yet I get to hear all about how Bob Dole is getting Libby going with the blue pill of might. It’s just a double standard, regardless of how true it is – if you’re going to be mad at one, don’t laud the other. How many parents do you think wrote in about the pre-game show, and then consequently used an ED drug that night? SHADY.

Speaking of shady, Harvard’s endowment, the largest in the country, is under scrutiny becuase of the amount they pay their investors. A smaller version of the article from the Wall Street Journal is on the AP wire, and copied here:

BOSTON – The top managers of Harvard’s huge endowment were paid more than $78 million in the past fiscal year – an amount some alumni say is wildly excessive.

The two highest-paid managers – David R. Mittelman and Maurice Samuels – received about $25 million each for the fiscal year that ended June 30, down from $35 million the year before, when the Ivy League school’s $22 billion endowment had higher investment returns.

The top six employees – including Mittelman and Samuels – together earned $78.4 million, almost all in the form of performance bonuses, the university said. That represents a 27 percent decline from the $107.5 million in the previous year.

Harvard Class of 1969 alumni have sent a series of protest letters over the fund managers’ compensation.

“The amounts they are paying these folks are obscenely high,” class member Stan Eleff said Tuesday.

Harvard Management Co. said its bonus system rewards only investment gains that exceed market performance and that the university would spend more if it had an external fund manager. Harvard’s endowment is far larger than any other university’s.

A) Crapload of money… one guy alone grossed 25 million this year.
B) What an endowment… my school doesn’t even have a major endowment… about 1% of our operation revenues are endowment (and I know we are about 50,000,000 in operating expenses every year)… and we do just as well… but imagine that kind of money in our pockets – we’d be going to school FREE!

In closing, I give you a speech from Alan Keyes that he gave for commencement one year at our school. It sums up what I think we as Grovers strive for – to be failures in the world’s eyes

hmmm

So I thought I’d send an ECard to a friend, and while watching MTV The Real World came on and this girl kept talking about “Cuddle Cards”… incessantly. “I sent my boyfriend a Cuddle Card, I always send Cuddle Card, Cuddle Card, Cuddle Card”

Say the words “Cuddle Card” a few times and you’ll understand why I wanted to punch the girl.

But it was good advertisement because I decided to go there and check it out… and as I was, I noticed there was a section for “Breaking Up”. WHO THE HECK BREAKS UP WITH SOMEONE WITH AN ECARD! I mean, I’m guilty of basically calling a relationship quits in an email (a dumb, uncouth choice on my part, and one which I learned my lesson by), but at least I had the niceness to make it personal. I can only imagine:

“Oh, alright,” I think as I’m checking my email, “a Cuddle Card from my girl… oh I love her so much!”
Click the link… and I get this.
“Well, that sucks.”

That’s bad. And I won’t be sending that one to the person I’m sending my Cuddle Card too (Have you gotten annoyed by “Cuddle Card” yet?)… it is in fact, this one. Sweet and cheezy all at the same time. 🙂

peaceandlove

ee cummings

I’ve noticed of late Lindsay and I kinda take whatever entry we last had and comment on it again. It’s kinda fun, because it’s a delayed conversation… I think we’re getting to know each other better now than when we were in school (and, unfortunately, never hung out).

Anyway, I wanted to put an ee cummings poem on the good ‘ol journal because of his uniqueness. I know I’ve talked about him before, and I love him becuase he defines what any individual wants to be – someone who’s understood by all on his own terms. You get what cummings is trying to say most of the time, but you have to think first. Anyway… here you go.

Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both

parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard

Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you’re flush pride keeps

you from the pawn shops and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it’s there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you

mmmmmm good (and classic) poem time

In my brief tenure as an English major, I wrote a paper on “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by TS Eliot. I give it to you, free ‘o charge:

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

And because it’s break, and I’m an two-fer mood, here’s another personal favorite of mine:

In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.

All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like starved pullets,
Dying for love.

Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other’s bodies.

Senioritis, Part II; and other various and sundry things

So as the semester is winding down, I’m watching my grades slowly head further and further south. If you could see a graph of afformentioned test grades, they’d range from a 95 to a 66… and they basically go in order.

I’ve decided that the problem is I’m just not being a good student. I’m not studying really, I read things just before the day of the test, and I’m basically bumming around waiting for college to be done. This is not exactly what I did my senior year of high school, but then again by this point I didn’t know where I was going to college yet, and let’s be honest – high school was a smidge easier than college (and, from what I hear from GCC alums, grad school is easier than undergrad… mmhmmm). So the answer is pretty simple – I need to be a good student again. The nice thing is I’m still completely capable of getting on the Dean’s List this semester, all I have to do is put the nose to the grindstone and belt out some good work.

I set the goal in front of me that I wanted to hit a 3.3 before I graduated – this is completely possible if I get on the Dean’s List this semester, and plug through during intercession and next semester. The key is not losing sight of that focus. (as a bitter postscript, if it was for that stupid paper in management and the subsequent C+ in the class, I’d probably have a 3.3 now).

So CCO again. I need to figure out where to live after graduation. My parents don’t want me to go all that far away from home, and I won’t disagree. I think for the first couple years it’d be nice to still be within the area (as it is, CCO only serves the Ohio, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania areas). So I’m thinking if you draw lines connecting Cleveland, Erie, Pittsburgh, and Akron together, that’d be where I’d work. And there’s a lot there (I think I may have said this once).

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a gorgeous movie. I recommend it to anyone who’s willing to be lost in a movie for a few mintues. It makes all sorts of sense at the end, you just have to get there is all.

I had to lead church today for an ailing grandfather (he has the flu, and can’t talk). It was really enjoyable, and I got all choked up at the end. Silly me. I’m just a putz 🙂

1. Cincinnati, Ohio
2. Carlisle, Pennsylvania
3. Springfield, Missouri
4. Olympia, Washington
5. Tacoma, Washington
6. Bloomington, Indiana
7. Seattle, Washington
8. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
9. Overland Park, Kansas
10. Kent, Washington
11. Long Island, New York
12. St. Louis, Missouri
13. Bellingham, Washington
14. Kansas City, Missouri
15. Columbia, Missouri
16. Evansville, Indiana
17. Bremerton, Washington
18. Topeka, Kansas
19. Branson, Missouri
20. Knoxville, Tennesee
21. Chattanooga, Tennesee
22. Omaha, Nebraska
23. Indianapolis, Indiana
24. Albany, New York

…so apparently I’d really like Washington state if I went there.

peaceandlove