Dream...and coffee

Don't you just love cafe (coffee in italian) induced dreams? I'm sure i would too, but I don't even know what that means. This is more of a warning against making espresso beverages in your dreams. I took a nap today before i had to go into work. I had a dream about work...go figure. Well, they say in dreams that you can not read, because dreams come from the other side of your brain, the dark side, and the side of your brain that you read from (whatever that means) is inactive. Well i guess the same side you read from is the side you make espresso drinks from, because it didn't work at all. The details are gory and too painful for me to go into, but there was steamed milk everywhere, and my organization was non-existant...oh the horror! That's really all i wanted to say, just to extend a warning that if you ever start to make coffee in a dream, wake yourself up. FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY..WAKE YOURSELF UP!

In Defense of a Traditional Valentine's Day

With the big day approaching, I think it's time we all sit back and reflect upon the true meaning of St. Valentine's Day. According to medieval tradition (which has the rough historical reliability of a supermarket tabloid), the historical St. Valentine was a priest who incurred the wrath of the Roman Emperor by marrying couples in violation of civil law. It turns out that the government tests had proven that marriage and women in general have an emasculating effect on men and, since emasculated men are of little good to the state, romance (or, more specifically, marriage) was a criminal offense. Good St. Valentine did not believe so, however, and officiated weddings in defiance of the state. In a game of legal rock-paper-scissors, Valentine chose the pure white paper of undefiled love whilst the state chose the rock of raw power. And, in fitting with reality (if not the rules of the game), the rock of state pounded Valentine's pathetic little paper into oblivion--he was summarily executed.

Back to the point...
It's time we all got back to the true meaning of the holiday: jailing lovers. Or killing preachers. Really, either way, you win.

Life Lessons Forgotten

I'd like to bring up to you, my friends, a tendency that I've noticed within myself when writing a blog. I have this inclination to write overwhelmingly discouraging words... to dwell on negative topics. I should really try to focus on more postive and uplifting words. I think I'll do that ... tomorrow.

So I was thinking about life a little bit and how funny it is sometimes. I work until 5:30pm, and my wife leaves for the hospital at 6:30pm. She gets home at 7:30am by which time I am long gone. In fact, if I ever leave the house after 6:45am I feel really late. LATE! At 6:45am! Please take a moment to share my disgust with myself.

So my wife works at nights and I hang out by myself and do nothing. For example, while I am writing this I am watching Corretta Scott King's funeral on c-span, and I have been for over an hour now. I am doing this optionally. I have 17 other channels that I could choose. I am seriously pathetic. I have to pee so bad but I'm too lazy to get up and go. I spend all of the daylight hours indoors laboring incessantly for the man, adding fuel to the monstrosity that is urban sprawl. I ride my bike every now and then and pretend that it makes up for my utter neglect of any form of exercise, not to mention that the bike ride is to go get ice cream.



Brandy and Seth enjoying a romantic evening

Homelessness

Tonight 16 classmates and myself will venture into the wild unknown of memorial mall and live the life of vagabonds and the wayward wanderer. I will learn what it would be like if i were not blessed in so many ways, learn how i would survive if i did not have such a vast network of support, learn that i am not my khakis. Standing next to a burning bin of scrap wood and refuse, ill feel a great weight of responsibility to not let those with less than me go uncared for. I will have a near-life experience.

I'll learn nothing. The truth is we will hang out till all hours of the night (nothing good happens after midnight), and then sleep as best i can, and wake up with an extremely sore back. From time to time i'll observe the smile on my professor's face, knowing that he believes himself to be so clever, and that this is perhaps the best assignment he has ever given. Friday night in college.

But more than anything else, i'll wonder why no one else freakin' writes on this blog, and how the internet sucks really bad...i'll hope that i don't eventually start swearing in every sentence just for the fun of it, just to try and get a comment from seth telling me that i really don't mean it.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that.