My mom’s a scrutinizing patron. And I mean that in the best possible way. It’s not that she attacks every commercial that promises a great deal, but she knows when something’s too good to be true. A commercial came on for diamond rings, asserting that one could purchase a 2-carot ring for $2,000. A skeptical look crossed my mom’s face, and she immediately turned to me, held up her hand with her engagement ring and said “Yeah, ok, $2,000 for a 2-carot ring? This ring is 1-carot and it cost me $4,000, and that was 20 years ago.” It’s that attention to detail that keeps me on my toes. Am I getting duped on a regular basis? Not to say that I ever buy any of these things, or even so much as begin to think about considering leaving my house to go check out these amazing deals, but someone is, somewhere, and I can only hope they’re not getting the muddy end of the stick.

My left hand is starting to hurt, and I’m quite positive it’s from so much Guitar Hero lately. It’s not all for nothing, though; currently I’m giving Guitar Hero Encore: Rocks the 80s a royal spanking, holding a solid 24th place out of about 2,000 people (so far). 100%s on 15 out of 30 songs, and it would be 17 if (a) I didn’t suck horribly at What I Like About You, and (b) I hadn’t made a silly mistake in Holy Diver. Oh well. I think it’s time to take a break for a couple days. The problem with holding a high spot is that it means I actually care about maintaining that spot, unlike GH2, where I haven’t put in a score since maybe 3 days before 80s came out (a good couple weeks ago now), and I’ve only dropped 2 spots to 84th. I think I can deal though.

The plight of a mosquito. I should write a book. It’s gotta be a sad existence for a mosquito. Think about it. Everyone hates them, even other mosquitoes. Notice they never fly around together? They hate each other. Other animals hate them. I don’t even think other animals respect them. It’s hard to respect something that essentially bums food off other people, and then never pays them back or anything. Their existence is pretty limited, unexciting at its peak - wake up (do mosquitoes sleep?), buzz around aimlessly, get swatted at, get lucky and score some sweet blood, get swatted at again, then either (a) die or (b) sleep(?) and repeat the next day.

Now that’s going to bug me. Do mosquitoes sleep?

Apparently they’re nocturnal (well, duh). Also, turns out the sole purpose of the female mosquitoes sucking blood (funny that it’s the female ones…I kid, I kid) is to get the protein necessary to lay the 100 to 3000 eggs they produce in a lifetime. Mosquitoes live to make more mosquitoes.

My GOD.

Anyway. Freshman orientation at UCSB is fast approaching. Two weeks from Sunday I’ll be on a plane on my way to Santa Barbara for 3 days. Oh, the thought.

I’m out.

Later.

Yes, I’m 3 hours away in Westport, Connecticut at the moment, sitting on my cousins’ couch watching That 70’s Show. Attempting to get video chat working with Liam, but…well, so far, no success.

My cousin and I seem to improve our relationship as cousins every time I visit. I still remember the days when I would be too shy to say hello to him (Ben) and his older sister Claire. Now, we’re almost like brothers. We went to the beach earlier this evening, where about 20 or 30 of his friends were hanging around. No sooner had we arrived than about 20 minutes later everyone started to dissipate, and 10 minutes after that everyone was gone. It was extremely weird. I’ve met some cool people here though, including the three people I consider myself actual friends with, Brianne, Marli, and Russ. Wish I was here more often.

On that note, Ben may be coming up to good old New Hampshire for a few days. Won’t that be exciting.

The whole Harry Potter phenomenon seems to be spiraling a little out of control. Now, admittedly I’m even considering staying outside Barnes & Noble the night before the 7th book, but more to be with a few friends who are doing it to. I’m not terribly impatient when it comes to getting brand new things. I can stand to wait for the next shipment. What I don’t understand is the lengths people will go to to ruin the books for someone else. If anyone remembers the release of the 6th book, and the subsequent drive-by spoilers, people yelling “Snape kills Dumbledore!” and such, you know what I’m talking about. Already there’s supposedly a .pdf of the 7th book on bittorrent. Come on now, why are people so bent on ruining the experience? Does it give them a visceral pleasure of some nature? Who knows.

Down to 88th on Scorehero GH 2 expert. Nuts.

That’s all for now. Semi-distracted. Coming home tomorrow.

I’m out.

Later.

That’s what this blog is doing. It’s not that I haven’t had anything interesting to write about - it’s just I’m super lazy. Can’t make any promises that I’ll update this regularly, or at all. I’ll try, but it takes a certain mood and a certain state of mind and a certain amount of time to commit to one of these, and I can’t guarantee when the stars will all align properly and that will happen.

In any case, things have happened. I saw an excellent tribute to the Beatles, titled appropriately, 1964: The Tribute. If you closed your eyes, or if you were sitting way back on the lawn like we were, the guys even looked kind of like the Beatles. They were set up in classic Beatles composition: “Ringo” back on his platform on the drums, and “John,” “Paul,” and “George” arranged in a triangle in front of him. The music was spot on - whether or not the guys were actually British is pretty trivial, especially since accents seem to all but disappear when you start to sing instead of talk. It was an amazing night spent with my best friends.

Moving on. Certain events continue to convince me that I’m somehow part of a sitcom or something. Think Truman Show. I don’t honestly believe that I am, but events like the one I’m about to describe are the kind where you shake your head afterward, wipe your brow and think “did that really just happen?” The story is as such: I’m walking downtown to meet Noel and Dave for some late-night urban Frisbee. It’s been a rough past couple of days, and I’m looking appropriately frazzled (although I blame my hair on the humidity). Who should be walking the other way but my dad’s friend Mike. I guess before I go any further I should detail that story, since it provides the necessary background to this one.

Mike is my dad’s friend who started his own company that’s in some way affiliated with the fire department. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know, but it handles a lot of different tasks for the fire department and for other places that need…well, tasks to be handled. Barone’s is great, but the money is less than adequate for my excursion to California next year, so the idea is that I’ll work this second job, earn extra money and also be set up with some good people through Mike.

No sooner do I arrive at my first day on the job then I get a call from my manager at Barone’s, Kathy, who tells me she’s going to the hospital and that she needs someone to cover. I tell her I can’t, as much as I would love to, but it’s my first day on the job. I then say if she absolutely can’t find anyone, to call me back. Half an hour later, I get another call back. She asks if I can go in a couple hours early, at 2. Since I’m supposed to leave this job at 3 anyway, I figure an hour early couldn’t hurt so long as I get everything I need to do done. I say ok, and then tell the guys I’m working with (whom Mike is not a part of) what the deal is. They’re perfectly cool with it, and we go about hoisting pipes for a new sprinkler system into the ceiling of the Edgewood Centre.

So that gets done, I leave at 2 and I’m on my way to Barone’s. I call Mike, leave him a message. Call him back a bit later to see if he’s gotten the message, and he says he has and he is, quote, “not happy.” I ask why, and he says it’s not going to work out if my schedule’s going to be so erratic. I beg him to give me another chance, he hangs up, I call my parents as I’m turning around to head back to the job I just left and on the phone we decide the schedule at Barone’s is just too erratic. I go back after begging Allison to stay another hour, do another hour of solid work to show Mike I care, and then head to Barone’s again. He calls back, tells me he’s giving me another chance, and I politely say thanks, but no thanks, at which point he blows up on me, saying “I was afraid of that. Bye.” He hangs up on me, I call him back, and he yells at me over the phone, and ends with a curt “have fun at your restaurant.” And that’s that, first and last day on a new job.

So back to my story. So who should I run into, but Mike. Not only do I run into him as we’re walking opposite directions, but we happen to also be directly in front of his apartment building. “Come on up, I’ve got a check for you,” he says, showing no malcontent in his tone whatsoever. We’re going up the elevator, me still wondering what’s happening, and we get into a short discussion about how at the age I’m at, you’re supposed to feel like everything’s right and everything’s wrong at the same time. We get to his apartment, he gives me the check and then apologizes for how he acted on that one day of the new job. I’m still wondering what’s going on, because it’s all rather too good to be true. But, lo, it is true, and I shake his hand, bid him a good evening and make my way back downstairs.

The way I convey this story through text doesn’t quite describe the sitcom-ness of it fully, but believe me, it was as though it were scripted. Truly an odd - but positive - experience that made me feel quite a bit better about things.

Anyway.

So I saw Transformers, too. I think there are two ways to look at this movie. One is to expect a serious, deep movie about transforming robots from another planet beating the hell out of each other. The other is to expect a comical, light-hearted, cheesy-dialogue-filled movie based on a cartoon from the 90’s about transforming robots from another planet beating the hell out of each other. I came on expecting the latter, and it’s what I got. The effects were fantastic, the dialogue dangerously cheesy (akin to Cheetos), and the action intense, though somewhat short-lived. Overall, I got my $9 worth, and I’d recommend the movie to anyone who’s not looking for the next Matrix movie or anything like that.

That’s about all I’ve got for now.

I’m out.

Later.