Jump to content
Registering As A Forum User? Read This Important Message!
Help Keep AwesomeDude Online! Donate Here.

EleCivil

AD Author
 View Profile  See their activity

  • Posts

    838

  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    1

 Content Type 

Blog Entries posted by EleCivil

  1. EleCivil

    Brakes = Broke

    By EleCivil,

    This is an older (true) story, from when I was in high school. I was 16 at the time. I was thinking about it as I was driving home this morning, and thought that you guys would appreciate it.
    I was driving to school in my Dad's Cadillac. It was a piece of junk - older than I was, on it's 5th or 6th owner, beaten all to hell, but I was 16, so I thought it was awesome. It was raining heavily. I was going up this huge hill when my brakes cut out. Mind you, I didn't notice that the breaks were out until I was on my way DOWN said hill at 50 miles per hour. At first I thought I must have driven through a puddle, so I started pumping the brakes. When that didn't work, I hit the emergency brake. That did nothing. As Mitch Hedberg once said, "It shouldn't be called an Emergency Brake. It should be called an Emergency Make-The-Car-Smell-Funny Lever."
    I'd never used emergency brakes before, so I figure, hey, maybe THOSE need pumping, too. So, now each leg is pumping. Because of the position of the emergency brake, I have to rise slightly from my seat in order to pump it. Now, pumping both legs while in a half-squat position, semi-restrained by a seatbelt, results in a series of repeated, rhythmic hip-thrusts. I don't know if you've ever seen someone thrusting their hips while hanging off of a steering wheel, screaming obscenities with a wild look in their eyes, but let me tell you...it looks a lot like they're making violent, passionate love to their steering column.
    I noticed that I was coming up on a red light, with other cars already stopped, so I moved into the turning lane and started blasting my horn. Keep in mind, I'm too terrified to take my hands off of the wheel, so, yes, I had to hit the horn with my hips. Now it not only looks like I'm engaging in intercourse with my steering column, but it sounds like it's enjoying it.
    As I roll through the red light, thrusting, screaming, and hump-honking, I can only imagine what the people lined up at the red light are thinking as they look over and see me. I have visions of old people shaking their heads in disgust, turning to their passengers, and saying "Damned crazy teens."
    I keep this up for a while before I finally realize that all the pumping isn't getting me anywhere (with the brakes, that is), so I say "Hell with it, this car's toast, anyway," and throw on the parking brake just as I take a turn into a parking lot. There's a huge THUMP sound and the tires squeal. Smoke comes pouring out from under the hood as I jerk to a sharp stop, with one last full-body thrust against my seatbelt. I fall back against my seat, sucking in air, and considering my position and feelings of mixed exhilaration and relief, I'm forced to wonder for the first (and possibly last) time in my life...did...did I just fuck a Cadillac?
    "Rejoice! Although this world will probably hurt you.
    Rejoice! Despite the fact this world will kill you!
    And rejoice! Despite the fact this world will tear you to shreds...
    Rejoice! Because you're trying your best!"


    -"Rejoice!" by Andrew Jackson Jihad


  2. EleCivil

    The 4th

    By EleCivil,

    Ever completely forget that other people were in the house, and start doing something that even you think is kind of weird?
    Yesterday morning, I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving my head, when I started singing:
    "Shaving my dome,
    Shaving my big white dome,
    I don't get razor burn
    Because I use a lot of foam!
    I wake up and shave my dome
    At the break of dawn,
    Yes, I'm shaving my dome,
    With my bath towel on...."
    I was about to start in on a second verse when I realized that, since it was the fourth of July, everybody was off of work, and waiting to applaud as soon as I stepped out.
    That night, some friends and I chased each other around with sparklers and traded protest songs. It was cool, but a couple people kept trying to get me to drink.
    "Dude, you'll be 21 in, like, four days. We're not going to turn you in or something. It's four days!"
    I was dumbstruck - they actually thought that the reason I don't drink is because it wouldn't be legal. I had to explain, like, since when do I care about the law? Fuck the law. I'm not going to be one of those posers who blunts their edges the day the law says that they can.
    Oh, yeah - I turn 21 on Sunday.
    "I learned all about Liberty.
    It's a statue near a harbor in a city called New York.
    And I learned that statues are things that we build
    To remind us of things that have died."


    -"Liberty is a Statue" by Evan Greer


  3. EleCivil

    Octopus Shoes

    By EleCivil,

    I'm very, very close to finishing the next chapter of Laika. I'm going to take my laptop to work today and finish it there (hopefully). I plan to send it in tomorrow.
    I was talking to a friend of mine the other night. He goes to a different school, where he tutors Logic and Western Philosophy. I tutor Logic and Eastern Philosophy. We started talking around midnight and then debated names v. properties for four hours, then passed out on the floor until noon. The highlight reel would include lines like "That lamp is markedly different from Chicago," "Hitler and Ghandi...they were both people, right?", "That object of infinite potential that is currently residing on your foot could, indeed, be called a 'shoe' right now, but if I removed it from your foot and threw it on the ice at a hockey game, it could be called an 'octopus'," and, finally, "FUCK! Descartes only needed to spend ONE PAGE on this, and then he was DONE. That's why Western philosophy makes so much more sense."
    Also, I'm working on a top secret project that I plan to release by the end of summer. No more details, though.
    "With the music execution and the talk of revolution,
    It bleeds in me and it goes...
    Give 'em the boot the roots the radicals!
    Give 'em the boot you know I'm a radical!
    Give 'em the boot the roots the reggae on my stereo..."


    -"Roots Radicals" by Rancid


  4. EleCivil

    Avast.

    By EleCivil,

    After a lot of wranglin' with the financial aid office, I managed to tap into some more grants and scholarships. $12,000 worth, for my 4th year of college (4th year already? Jeez...). I'm almost going for free, now. Awwwwright.
    Last night, a friend and I dressed up in full pirate gear to go see Pirates of the Caribbean 3. At the last minute, though, we decided to see Knocked Up instead. We didn't change, though - we figured it'd be even funnier to be dressed as pirates that want to see a Judd Apatow movie than pirates who want to see a pirate movie. It was really good, by the way. Seth Rogan has always been my favorite of Apatow's regulars, all the way back to Freaks and Geeks, so I was glad to see him get a lead role.
    There's plans for a Guitar Hero party, soon. Everyone's going to dress as a different musician. I've heard people planning for Elvis, Gene Simmons, Kurt Cobain, John Lennon, and Claudio Sanchez. I've already got an Ian MacKaye costume planned, even though nobody there is going to know who Ian MacKaye is (philistines). I'll have to DIY a t-shirt with the lyrics to "Out of Step" on it.
    "I Don't smoke,
    Don't drink,
    Don't fuck,
    At least I can fucking think!"


    -"Out of Step (with the World)" by Minor Threat


  5. EleCivil
    I'm inspired. I want to write. I mean, I want to REALLY write. I want to pound out the rest of Laika, right now. I've got some poetry running around in my head, and another story, too. I want to get it all out. I've been pretty blocked for the past couple months, but now I'm ready to explode. In word form. Wordsplosion, Vocabustion, Abecedarian-Conflagration!
    Problem is, my laptop's battery has died. Completely died. To the point where, even when it's plugged into the wall, there's no juice getting to the laptop itself. The laptop's got all my writing files on it - character bibles, plot outlines, loose dialogue, etc. On top of that, it's the only computer I've got access to that's private, and I've never been able to write well in public.
    I've ordered a new battery, but it'll take somewhere around eight business days to get here. But when it does, expect a new chapter (or two) within a couple days.
    "No Reason Why - to beat up on a poser skin!
    No Reason Why - to keep the little kids from getting in!
    No Reason Why - to take advantage of the people you know!
    No Reason Why - there's just no reason why!"


    -"No Reason Why" by Gorilla Biscuits


  6. EleCivil
    It's been a while since I've posted here, so I've got a few stories.
    More relatives have been coming to visit my dad. Second cousins and great-uncles from the hills and mountain towns who I've never met before. I've never fit in with my dad's side of the family - they're from the mountains of Pennsylvania, really small-town, rural places. Their main interests and talking points are sports, intra-family gossip, and God, in that order. Three topics that I can't really say anything about, since I don't follow sports, I don't know any gossip, and I don't believe in God. As such, I usually just stay quiet when they're around and shrug off their criticisms-disguised-as-questions ("You're such a handsome young man - why do you go and shave your head like that?" "Why don't your socks match?" "Why do you have that pirate flag flying from your window? What, you think you're tough?" "Why don't you play football? What do you mean, your college doesn't have any sports teams? What kind of a school is that?" "You want to be a teacher? Isn't it mostly women who do that?").
    Some relatives from my Mom's side have been visiting, too. That's the side of the family I've always fit in with. One of my uncles is a systems-admin and a juggler/unicyclist. One works for NASA and writes poetry. My Grandpa on that side died before I was old enough to get to know him, but I understand he was some kind of working class hero who marched with the unions and read Shakespeare to his fellow migrant rail-workers, teaching them English as they sat around the campfires. I only got to hang out with them for a couple minutes, though, because I had to go to work on the day they came.
    ---
    Something weird happened the other day. My mom tells me that she was outside when one of the local girls came up and started grilling her about me - "Is that your son? How old is he? He likes punk music, right? And he juggles, right?" And then, this girl who I've never met tells my mom - MY MOM, the preacher's wife - that she thinks I'd look pretty hot in chains and leather. GOOD. LORD. So now my parents are laughing about me being some kind of secret bondage freak going around corrupting the local high school girls. Eh...heh.
    ---
    I was out walking during a thunderstorm earlier tonight. I like walking in the rain. It kicks all your senses into overdrive - listening to the static of the raindrops, feeling the little wet explosions all over your skin, smelling and tasting the water on the air, watching the bubbles erupting from the gasoline rainbows on the pavement - it's the best. But today, it was raining so heavily that the storm drains started to back up, and before I knew it, I was knee-deep in water. Now, as soon as I felt the cold water sloshing over my shoes, I started up a nicely flowing stream of profanities that only intensified as it deepened, while I slogged through in search of higher ground.
    Somewhere in the midst of my soaked swear-storm, I changed gears. I shouted to the trees that there was now enough water in my shoes to form at least two new Great Lakes - Lake Shoe-perior and Lake On-toe-rio. I then looked around, and told the streetlights that I hoped that the swearing had scared off any listeners, because I'd hate to think that someone had just heard that terrible, terrible pun.
  7. EleCivil

    Awkwardness

    By EleCivil,

    Today, I was studying for a final and putting together a professional development portfolio. At the same time, I was doing laundry. I'm a laundry procrastinator - I wait until ALL of my clothes are dirty before washing. The problem being, I've got no clothes to wear while the rest are in the wash.
    So, I'm working frantically, pulling papers from all over to put this portfolio together, all the while trying to weigh them down so that the fan doesn't blow them away, because it's 90 degrees inside the house and we've got no air conditioning. I'm wearing a pair of purple boxers and my bones shirt - a black shirt with a glow-in-the-dark ribcage on it that I used for part of a Halloween costume back in 3rd grade - when I hear a knock at the door.
    I'm thinking of just ducking under the window and pretending I'm not home, but then I remember that I was supposed to sign for some deliveries, and that might be them.
    I open up the door, and it's my former roommate. He looks me up and down, says "Huh," and shrugs.
    I say, "Man, I'm glad it's you, or this could've been awkward."
    He shakes his head. "No, no, it's plenty awkward on this end."
    "We lived together for a year and a half. How are you not used to this?"
    "It's not the boxers. It's the purple."
    "Really?"
    "The purple...I keep seeing it out of the corner of my eye, and, I don't know, my brain says 'Hey, purple? What's that?' and then my eyes are like 'Oh, we'd better check it out!' and then I'm thinking 'No, no, don't look at his crotch,' but by then it's too late!"
    "...Well, now you've gone and made it awkward."
    "I try."
    "He was the roommate from hell! His name was Lucifer.
    Someone call the priest, bring the crucifer.
    He was the roommate from hell! Leaves his pitchfork in my bed.
    I'm in a Satanic panic 'cause he is messin' with my head!"


    -"Roommate from Hell" by MC Lars (ft. MC Chris)


  8. EleCivil

    Six Months

    By EleCivil,

    The oncologist says that my dad has six months (maximum) to live.
    People have been coming over to visit. My grandma, my cousin, old family friends who we haven't seen in years. It's weird - the last time I saw my cousin was about ten years ago, when HER dad (my uncle) died of lung disease. And before that? A funeral for another distant relative. It's like we only see each other when someone is dead or dying. She's cool, though. She's from this tiny town, so she's amazed by the "big city" things like traffic lights (they only have a couple stop signs where she's from) and people who don't match their shoes (okay, so that was just me) and the fact that she can't find a country music station on the radio (ah, Lawd). At one point, she asks what we city people do for fun. My mom and I look at each other, shrug, turn back to her and say "We read books." She looks disappointed, like she was expecting us to say "Wild meth-fueled orgies."
    Anyway, it's finals week. I just got done taking my Bio final - no sweat, there. Just four more days 'til freedom.
  9. EleCivil

    Shazzam.

    By EleCivil,

    First of all, I want to say thanks to everyone who replied, IM'd, or emailed me after my last post. I really appreciate it.
    Don't worry about me. I'd been spending the last year or so in denial about it, but I've known it was coming. It was just that Saturday was the day that my Dad actually asked me if I would quit school and go to work, and that made things kind of boil over. BUT, when I boil over, it's usually only for a day or two, then I get distracted by something else and bounce back, being the bouncing soul that I am.
    So, back to normal (or as close as I ever get to it). Hi-ho.
  10. EleCivil
    This is going to be hard to write down, but I've got to get it off my chest. It's probably going to be tough to reply to it, too, so I won't hold it against anybody if you'd prefer not to.
    My dad's dying. Every male in my family tends to die young - my grandfather died at forty, my uncle died at thirty-five, my great-uncle died at fifty, and now my dad is dying at fifty.
    He's got two fatal respiratory diseases - lung cancer and pulmonary fibrosis. He's lost 70% of his lung capacity, relies on machines to help him breathe.
    My parents are living paycheck-to-paycheck. They have been for...well, forever. They've never had enough money to save any of it. A good 75% of their income comes from my dad's pay. And now he can't work any more. Problem is, he can't get on disability for 4-18 months, depending on how long the government takes.
    My dad tried to cash in his IRA retirement fund, to hold them over until either disability or life insurance kicks in, but they wouldn't let him. You have to meet certain standards to be able to cash it in early. They said that you had to be facing certain "hardships" to be able to do that. Two fatal diseases isn't "hardship" enough for them. They mean rich-man's "hardships" like buying your first house. We've never had the kind of money to even consider buying a house.
    So now I'm back home. In order for my family to survive, I've got to drop out of school, get a full time job, and become head of the household.
    My Dad's already said that he's not going to get chemo or radiation therapy - my mom would have to quit HER job in order to drive him to the hospital all the time, and then, even with me working full time, we wouldn't have enough money to scrape by. So he's decided to let it kill him, because he just doesn't have the money needed to live.
    I always thought I could beat the system - be the success story, the trailer park kid who, by studying hard and working three jobs and scholarshipping through college, could break out of the cycle of generations of poverty and finally BE something. I don't want to get to the top - I'm not looking for riches and fame. I just want to be a teacher. I'm GOOD at that. But the system doesn't let go that easily.
    So it goes. I've been working hard, so now I'll work harder. The system has me, but I won't let it break me. Things are stacked to keep everyone in their place, but I've got to prove that it doesn't have to be that way. I've got to, because...what else is there to do?
  11. EleCivil
    I'm home for Easter. Today, my mom showed me two pictures: one that she'd taken this morning, when she found me asleep in the computer chair, and my school picture from sixth grade - age ten, exactly ten years ago. Interesting.
    It got me thinking about how different I am, now. It's easy to forget about how much you change, since you see it from the inside, as a slow progression. When you look at it in terms of a big gap, like ten years, though...
    Ten years ago, I had long hair. Now it's really short.
    Ten years ago, I pretended to like football because all the kids at school did. Now, I'm fine letting everyone know that I'm weird.
    Ten years ago, I was a fundamentalist Southern Baptist. Now, I'm a non-theist.
    Ten years ago, I knew that I was straight. Now, I know that I'm not.
    Ten years ago, I hated middle school more than anything. Now, I can't wait to get my degree so I can go teach in a middle school.
    Ten years ago, I only listened to the Oldies channel on the radio (everything else was "devil music"). Now, I listen to punk, hardcore, hip-hop, folk, indie, and all kinds of "devil music".
    Ten years ago, I was afraid of the dark. Now, I'm a night person.
    Ten years ago, I had not yet touched a computer, and had no idea what the internet was. Now, I'm a tech geek working in a computer lab.
    Ten years ago, I was rarely allowed to leave my house. Now, I'm barely at home except to sleep.
    Ten years ago, I liked to write stories in my free time. Now...well, not everything changes.
    Ten years ago:

    This morning:

    And now, I wonder - ten years from today, will there be nearly as many changes? Any that are as big as some of these? I think I'm pretty secure as to who I am, right now, but ten years ago, I thought the same thing. Ah well.
    "Of course, tomorrow morning if our whole system collapsed,
    We?d divide ourselves again on lines of gender, race, and class.
    But tonight I don?t care if we win a million hearts,
    Unless we rip them out their chests and start throwing them at cars!"


    -"Johnny" by Tom Frampton


  12. EleCivil
    This has nothing to do with anything, but I thought it was a funny story.
    The other day, a friend and I were having a contest to see who could do their taxes fastest (nerd race!). He pulled ahead, so I shouted "Matt Lauer! You got me."
    He pauses and looks up. "What'd you just say?"
    "...You got me?"
    "No, the first part. Matt Lauer?"
    "Yeah, the guy from the Today Show."
    "I know who he is. Did you seriously just use his name as an interjection?"
    I nod. "Yeah. I like to think of it as 'taking the Lauer's name in vain.'"
    "You make so little sense sometimes, that when you talk...it's like one of Modest Mouse's early albums is playing."
    "Thanks."
    "That was an insult."
    "Aw, Matt Lauer."
    "You ain't machines and you ain't land,
    And the plants and the animals, they are linked,
    And the plants and the animals eat each other.
    Oh my God and oh my cat."


    -"Never Ending Math Equation" by Modest Mouse


  13. EleCivil

    One Week

    By EleCivil,

    Things I learned from one week of student teaching in a 5th grade classroom:
    1 - Very few guys are involved in schools at the lower-middle level.
    There wasn't even a men's restroom in the building - the only other males in the building were the gym teacher and the principal. This means that for the students who have been in that building for the whole of their schooling, I was the first male classroom teacher they ever had.
    2 - While some schools are under-funded, others have way more money than they know what to do with.
    I ended up teaching in a rich suburban school district, quite different from my own. There were SmartBoards, really nice computers, scanners, and printers in every room. They had better technology than my college's computer lab.
    3 - Elementary school teachers are the most stereotypically wholesome people in the world.
    Eating lunch in the teacher's lounge means that I got to hear all about their home lives. Talk of little league games and marching bands and homecoming and church youth groups and cheerleading and all of those non-threatening school-and-church-sanctioned events that I avoided like the plague when I was in school. So not only am I completely alone in being (1) male, (2) single, and (3) childless, but I come from a radically different subculture. Don't get me wrong, they're nice, but it's just...tough to talk to them when we have no common interests outside of teaching.
    4 - Teaching is exhausting.
    This surprised me. A day of teaching leaves me more tired than a day at the gym. Now I know why all the other people in the teachers' lounge seem to be addicted to coffee. Of course, a lot of this probably has to do with waking up early combined with staying up late to write lesson plans (that, and I tend to go into high-energy, adrenaline-rush mode when teaching)
    5 - Teaching changes the way you think about things.
    Just a week, and I'm already looking at things differently. I see an empty egg carton and think "Hey, I bet could make something out of one of these." I listen to a new song and think "I could use this to teach about figurative language." I see a kid causing trouble in a store and actually start putting on my "Teacherly Disapproval Face" before I remember where I am, and that I've got no authority there.
    6 - You can tell a lot more from grading papers than whether or not they're getting the answers right.
    One kid would get all of his answers wrong, but have huge paragraphs of text - complex, perfect sentences - completely unrelated to the homework written on the back. One had horrible handwriting and was in special classes for help with reading, but if you flipped his papers over, you could see the big, detailed drawings that he'd done. He would get in trouble for "wasting staples" by using fifteen or twenty of them just to fasten his homework pages together...but if you flipped the paper over, you could see that the bent-over sides of the staples formed an intricate pattern on the back of the page. One girl never turns in her individual homework assignments, but if she's in a group with others, that group always finishes first and turns in the best work, because she knows how to organize a team.
    This is stuff that I learned on the first day, just by grading a few different papers. Later, I talked to these kids and confirmed it. The writer loved Eragon, and wanted to be the next Christopher Po-whats-his-name. The artist took me into the hall and showed me some of his work that was on display - sculptures and a near-perfect colored pencil reproduction of a Van Gogh painting. Apparently, he likes to sneak into the art teacher's room during recess to see if she has any extra projects for him. The leader? She was in charge of the student government, crossing guards, and a half-dozen other team activities after school that took up all of her time for homework.
    The back of the page is worth a lot more than the front.
    7 - Make sure you're wearing an ID around your neck when doing a restroom escort.
    One of the other teachers walks by and sees me - a guy, who is definitely not one of the two guys who work in the building - standing outside of the restrooms. She pauses, says "...Waiting for the girls to come out of the restroom?" I shrug and say "A couple girls, a couple guys. Just going to take 'em back with me." Words cannot describe the look she gave me. That's when I remembered that I left my ID in my pocket, and quickly pulled it out and dropped it around my neck. She exhales deeply and walks away, muttering to herself. Awwwwkward.
  14. EleCivil

    Some stuff.

    By EleCivil,

    So, a few posts ago, I mentioned how I wasn't looking forward to dressing professionally to student-teach next week. After thinking about it a bit more, I realized that I've never dressed professionally for anything in my life. Like, I don't even know how it's done. I understand the basics - pants + shirt + shoes + socks - but that's it. I don't know how to match stuff or co-ordinate colors (only that, maybe, by doing the exact opposite of what I've been doing, I might accidentally do it). And, above all else, I didn't OWN any professional clothes.
    As a kid, my clothing consisted of hand-me-downs from cousins, charity-box donations, and free event t-shirts (Fifth-Third Bank Presents...4th of July Cash-Stravaganza!). From high school on, my wardrobe has consisted of a couple pairs of jeans, one hoodie, and about ten plain, black t-shirts.
    So, today, for the first time in my life, I went to an actual clothing store. I felt a bit sick at first - selling out tends to do that (To quote The Simpsons, "I feel like punching myself.") - but then I noticed something. The guys kept hitting on me. That's why I've never seen that many gay dudes in Ohio - they were all hanging out in the clothing stores! I guess I missed a memo or something. But thanks to their help, I learned how to throw together a few cheap, decent-looking clothes that'll get me through a week of pretending to be one of those...what-do-you-call-'em...mature adults.
    Also, a friend of mine offered to give me ten thousand dollars if I agreed to get a Tupac-style "Thug Life" tattoo. I turned him down, and he changed the offer - five thousand to get a decidedly non-Tupac-style "Teacher Life" tattoo in the same place. Once again, turned down (though it killed me to do so, because I find the idea quite amusing). I made a deal with myself long ago that I'd never get a tattoo, because I know I'm waaaay too impulsive to be doing anything that has permanent effects.
    "And if you're slow on the uptake, I'll lay it out:
    Hipsterism is a religion to which you gotta be devout.
    You must be seen as in between unpopular and hated
    Or else get excommunicated."


    -"Indier than Thou" by MC Front-a-lot


  15. EleCivil

    Fate

    By EleCivil,

    For the past week, I've been standing on one foot quite a bit. Basically, cutting down on foot usage by 50%, not by walking less, but by only using one at a time. I had no idea why that was until today.
    I'll start at the beginning, I suppose, because no matter how stylish stories that start at the end may be, a bit of sequence now and then can be refreshing.
    I tend to not cash my checks right away when I get them. I usually wait until I actually need money for something before going to the bank. Well, I've been able to stretch a check pretty far in the past, but the past few weeks has been a new record. I had, in my back-log, two checks from each of my two jobs as well as a state tax return check.
    I checked the fridge earlier today and noticed that the only edible items in the house were as follows:
    -A half-gone carton of soy milk (which, according to another article posted on this site, is apparently turning me even gayer)
    -A can of Pepsi whose label indicates that it would be best to drink it before June of 2001 (I'm holding on to it in case I ever find a time machine. I don't like Pepsi, but I'd drink it anyway, for the sake of science.)
    -A tub of whey protein powder
    And, finally,
    -A single slice of bread
    I was faced with a tough decision - spend the first official day of spring break doing much-needed grocery shopping, or see if I could survive for a day on some kind of whey-and-mustard mixture spread on a piece of toast. Not putting that much faith in my culinary skills, I went shopping.
    On the way back, I noticed a sign for a yard sale. Not usually my thing, but a friend recently told me how he found an old Sega Master System at a yard sale for cheap, so I thought, hey, I'll give it a shot.
    That's where I found it - a beautiful old skateboard, covered in scratches, but shined up really nice. I haven't been on a skateboard since middle school; haven't even thought about taking up skating again, but this board caught my eye. That's when I realized why I had spent the past week standing on one foot: Balance. I'd re-taught myself to balance, without even thinking about it. It was fate. Everything fell into place perfectly to put me and this skateboard at the same place at the same time - spring break, the yard sale, running out of food, having a big enough backlog of checks that I had some spare cash to spend...it all came together.
    It all came flooding back - the hours I'd spent in the summer of 6th grade, skating around the neighborhood. Getting my neighbor to beg his parents for a board so that we could go together. And of course, my proudest hour - beating one of the high-schoolers at a game of Chicken. He made the mistake of actually caring about his/my wellbeing...I, on the other hand, closed my eyes and launched myself at top speed, shouting "Sic semper tyrannis!" (yes, I was weird when I was 11, too).
    I'm so excited! If only I didn't have to leave for work in a couple minutes...but I've got the rest of the week to play around on this thing before school starts again.
    Hi-ho!
    "After weeks of winter that just wouldn't quit, and the headlines remind me the world's gone to shit, I ride my skate to the park, because sometimes that's all that someone can do. And I try not to think that it's only fashion or that the teenage boys are patriarchy in action, 'cause it's Saturday morning with my friends and we're fuckin' thrashin'! And this feels better...better than it has in weeks."


    -"This Feels Better" by Defiance, Ohio


  16. EleCivil

    Currentlies.

    By EleCivil,

    Haven't updated the blog in a while, so here's what's going on in a convenient list format:
    Currently on: Spring break
    Currently reading: That Thou Art: Teachings of the Upanishads by Ramakrishna (the "secret teachings" of Hinduism); Snow Crash by Stephenson.
    Currently playing: Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney - Justice for All.
    Currently writing: Laika, Chapter 14; Untitled Short Story; Overlight Strays, Chapter 1 (Yes, a new novel...but don't expect to be seeing it any time soon.)
    Currently listening: "Mutiny!" by Set Your Goals; "Plays Pretty for Baby" by The Nation of Ulysses; "Plays Ugly for Suckers" by The Yah Mos Def.
    Currently looking forward to: Student-teaching (next week), the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie (going with a friend on opening night).
    Currently NOT looking forward to: Mid-term exams, wearing "professional" clothes for student-teaching (they can take my ratty jeans and untucked shirts, but they'll never take my FREEDOM!...that is to say, my mismatched socks.)
    Currently watching: The promotional search-lights from all the nearby adult stores and strip clubs sweeping across the overcast night sky, reminding us all that we live in a red light district. Seriously, this neighborhood's got so much porno per capita that it's actually reasonable to measure it in terms of per capita.
    Currently typing: While standing on one foot and whistling "We Shall Not be Moved".
    Hi-ho.
  17. EleCivil

    New job!

    By EleCivil,

    I got a new job today. For those counting, that makes three.
    It's closer to two-and-a-half, really. I've been working in my college's computer lab, helping people with software, checking out resources, scheduling meetings with tutors, etc.
    Today, someone came in looking for a tutor in Critical Thinking/Logic. I looked it up in our system, and saw that we didn't have anyone who could tutor in that subject. I talked to one of the senior staff members, who told me that they can never find anyone to tutor Critical Thinking, because in order to tutor a subject, you have to get an A in the class, and none of their trained tutors have done that. I said something like "Man, too bad I'm not a tutor. That was my favorite class."
    She does a double-take and says "Did...did you get an A in it?" I nodded. She says "Please tell me you want to be a tutor."
    "Do tutors get paid more than me?"
    "Yes."
    "Then I'll be a tutor!"
    So now I'm tutoring for the philosophy department. Pretty sweet. Soon, I'll be rakin' in that big-time tutor cash.
    "Fuelling the flames of the fire to torch the tools of my trade
    With countless paperback revolutions spouting words that I will never say."


    -"The Fuckest Uppest" by The John Ritter Wrestling Squad


  18. EleCivil

    Mr. Clean

    By EleCivil,

    A friend gave me an early Valentine's Day present today. Simpsons fans should appreciate it:

    "It says 'Choo-Choo-Choose Me'! And there's a picture of a train!"
    Ah, classic Simpsons.
    I was in Biology class, learning about organic chemisty, when all of a sudden I realized something: I'd never shaved my head before. Not once. So after class, I went home and did it, then came back for my next class. There's a couple people who are in both classes with me, and they were pretty shocked. I wasn't sure if I'd like it or not, but I think it's pretty cool, especially since I now better resemble one of these guys:
    [image removed]
    "Oi! You stupid skinhead."


    -"Mouseteeth" by This Bike is a Pipe Bomb


  19. EleCivil

    Car crash.

    By EleCivil,

    I got into a car accident today.
    It's weird the way these things work out. I had just gotten out of class (RST244: Great Religions of the East) and since I'm a bit of a gym rat, I was going to go work out for a while to unwind. But, for some reason, I decided that I'd do my homework first. This is weird, because I never do my homework first, being the self-proclaimed Mayor of Procrastinationville. I take about an hour to do the homework, then get my stuff together and drive off in the direction of the gym.
    I'm going through an intersection when this huge tank of a van (a corporate vehicle for a local catering company) runs a red light and nails my rear passenger-side door. I spin out into the middle of the street - at least one and a half times around, because I ended up facing the way I came. The back window shattered, throwing a bunch of glass up into the front seat with me. I was shocked that no one else got hit, considering the wild, twisting path that I was propelled into taking.
    Anyway, the woman driving the van was really cool about it - she admitted it was completely her fault, and told the police the same thing. Apparently, she was trying to stop, but her foot slipped off the brake and she just barrelled through.
    Insurance is going to cover all of it, and nobody got hurt, but DAMN did I get rammed. Of course, like a good blogger, I got pictures:


    The part that really sucks is that my two all-time favorite CDs were in the CD player at the time, and because of the damage caused by the jolt, they're stuck in there for good. I've got them backed up as .MP3s, and that band gives their songs away for free anyway, and the CDs themselves are only five bucks each, but still...I bought those when I went to see them live. I drove hours to get to that show. It was the best one I've ever seen, and it was actually what inspired me to write Laika. I'm gonna miss those.
    Anyway, I wasn't hurt, she wasn't hurt, so I'm not upset. The insurance guys are being really awesome about it, too. Going to take the car in tomorrow (well...have it towed in, actually - the body of the car is mashed up against the tire, so it won't spin), and walk to work for the next few days. But I've got a coat, so everything's cool.
    The weird thing is, if I had decided to go to the gym right away instead of stopping to do homework first, this wouldn't have happened. This is, possibly, the one day in my entire life that I decided not to procrastinate, and look what happened.
    There you go, guys. The moral of the story is: Put things off until the last minute, or the Giant Catering Van of Death will descend from the sky like a Mothra Faulkner and smash the hell out of your car.
    "Next time I'll try for the first time in my life.
    It won't pass me by. Procrastinate! It can wait!
    I put it off. Let's start today!"


    -"Start Today" by Gorilla Biscuits


    ...y'know, I think that's the third time I've used Gorilla Biscuits lyrics at the end of one of these posts. That puts them in the lead.
  20. EleCivil

    Inappropriate nuns.

    By EleCivil,

    As I mentioned earlier, I go to a Catholic college (even though I'm not Catholic), so some of my classes are taught by nuns. In a previous post, I mentioned how one of these Sisters was, in class, talking about male pinecones going limp while female pinecones can last forever. Well, I've got her again this semester, and she's added a new phrase to her lexicon: "Blow/shoot my wad". I kid you not.
    Now, I understand that it can be used in a non-sexual way, but COME ON. When talking about why she always takes a fifteen minute break between her Anatomy class and her Educational Methods class, she actually used the phrase "I shot my wad on those pre-nurses, so I need some time to recover."
    The second she said it, the other two guys in class and I all exchanged an awkward, did-she-just-say-that kind of look. Then, later in class, she used the expression again, referring to how she uses her best material in the fall semester, so has to have a bunch of guest speakers and field trips in the spring.
    Later, just to kind of test the waters, one of the other guys used the phrase. Something like "According to this graph, this species was pretty numerous, but now it's extinct. Did it...*nervous pause*...blow its wad...in '85?" She nods and says that that's exactly what happened.
    At this point, the other guy leans over to me and says "You know, this is almost too wrong to be funny. She's...she's like my grandmother. She's like everybody's grandmother. She looks like she should be baking cookies, not...shooting her wad. 'Specially not on pre-nurses."
    At which point I had to fake a cell phone call and step outside to avoid cracking up in front of everybody.
  21. EleCivil
    I just got back from the Spring Ska Show, which was awesome.
    It's interesting how many different types of people will come out for a ska show. There were skinheads, skate-punks, sXe kids, hXc kids, emo kids, hippies, goths, rudies...it was great seeing all the followers of sub-subcultures gathering together. However, that was only on the second floor of the building - the first floor was being used as a hip-hop/electronica club, and there was absolutely no interaction between the two floors.
    The crowd was great. It was big enough to get a good number of people in the pit, but small enough so that you felt like you knew everybody, even if you never said a word to them all night. Everyone stood out from everyone else, so you remembered them all - the dude with the giant mohawk, the dude who kept taking his shirt off, the creepy old guy who only stood on the side taking pictures of the young girls...yeah, the whole gang was there.
    Me? I was dressed like a sXe kid, with X's on the backs of my hands and a plain black shirt covered in one-inch pins (including pins for some sXe bands like Gorilla Biscuits and Minor Threat, as well as one that just said "Kiss me, I'm straight-edge"). This was intentional, because it made everyone do a double-take when I started to skank. Yes, within the straight-edger shell beats the heart of a (gasp) rudie! You don't need checkerboard suspenders and a three-piece suit to do it!
    There were a couple people there who were just cool, made the show better just by being in the crowd. There was a girl in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform with checkerboard socks and two-tone shoes, and an adorable short, stocky guy with a giant blonde afro, and neither of them stopped skanking once. The whole night, even if no one else was moving, they were going. It was inspiring, in an energizer-bunny kind of way.
    Like I said before, I'm not a big fan of skacore, but the vocalist/guitarist for one of the bands (I forget their name, or I'd tell you) earned a spot as best performer of the night, in my book. Their whole set, people were spitting at him and tossing bottles at him, and at one point, the kids in the pit actually grabbed him by his ankles and dragged him off the stage, beating on him, kicking him, spitting on him...but the whole time, he kept singing. That's some dedication, man. I was impressed.
    In the end, I got a copy of Money$hot's CD (only three bucks!) and a checkerboard "ska" one-inch pin to add to the collection.
    My school semester starts next week, as well as my second job and student-teaching. This was likely the last show I'll get to go to until summer...but it was a good one, so I guess I'll make it.
    "Intolerant society rears it's ugly face.
    You're turning your hardcore music into a homophobic disgrace!
    The gay ones, the straight ones, the white, tan, yellow, and black...
    Gay rude boys and girls, we're gonna take that dancehall back,
    We'll take it back!!
    Because without respect, there's gonna be nothing left"


    -"Gay Rude Boys Unite" by Leftover Crack


  22. EleCivil
    I was walking through a parking lot today, just a few hours after a heavy rain storm. The rain had driven the worms out of the soil and on to the pavement. I see that a lot of them are stranded out in the middle of the lot, stuck on the spots where the puddles had dried out. These worms were a good 30 feet away from the grass, and the clouds were clearing up. I knew that if they didn't get off of the pavement pretty soon, they were going to be fried and dehydrated - I've seen it happen before.
    So, I started picking them up. It was really the least I could do - I'd feel like a prick for the rest of the day if I just left them there to die. After all, if I was crawling naked at the rate of two inches an hour across hot, jagged gravel and blacktop, I'd sure appreciate some help.
    So, there I am, with two big handfuls of worms, when I run into somebody I kind of know. We've never really spoken, but we've seen each other around a few times. He stops, cocks his head at me, and just gives me this weird look. I say hi, and he nods back, and says "What the hell are you doing with all those worms?"
    I shrug and say "Just taking them over there", and nod toward the grass.
    "Why?"
    "'Cause they'll probably like it better over there."
    He gives me a "what the hell?" kind of expression and just walks away, shaking his head. I'm thinking to myself, "Wow, what a weird guy." I told the story to some friends, and they sided with that guy, saying that transporting worms was a pretty weird thing to do.
    Ever have a situation like that? Where you feel like you're doing the most normal thing in the world, but then find out that everyone else thinks you're crazy? Doesn't happen to me very often - usually, I'm well aware that what I'm doing is pretty strange, but this time I was honestly shocked. I was going that way, they were going that way, I had gloves on...so, why wouldn't I? Man, humans are weird sometimes.
    "Listen up, I gotta ask - how can we be so cruel?
    You say you care? That's a lie.
    My true compassion is for all living things, and not just the ones who are cute, so I do what I can.
    I wanna save lives and I've got a plan."


    -"Cats and Dogs" by Gorilla Biscuits


  23. EleCivil
    So, I noticed that we're getting a Wal-Mart installed pretty much in my old back yard. The problem? Well, besides the death of every small business in the area, it's what they're tearing down to build on: the horse racing track.
    I'm not one to bet on the horses, but when I was a kid (elementary/middle school), I was there all the time. Not because I was into horses or anything, but because, as an enterprising trailor kid, I knew that the race track was the best place to panhandle. I didn't want to get into drugs - the main industry for kids in my area - but I had to get some cash somewhere, or I'd be stuck wearing the same two hand-me-down dress pants and free event t-shirts from years before.
    Now that I'm old enough to have a job (or two), I don't need to panhandle any more, but still...think of the children! With their parents all working for peanuts at the new Wal-Mart, they'll need that supplimental income more than ever. Baaah...
    But enough about those corporate mobsters. Happy new year!
    I just got off of work and emptied all the rainwater from my pockets, then went to toast the new year with my family (sipping chocolate milk from a wine glass, 'cause I'm classy like that).
    Now it's off to solitude, where I can strip down and greet 2007 unfettered by the trappings of '06, and perhaps a bit of nude howling at the moon, because, once again, I'm classy like that.
    aaaAAAAAAAooooOOOOOooooOOOOOO....
    "I think about this world and all of it's deadly beasts,
    And they stand no chance against me!
    You see, I believe in love, and I'm sorry if you can't.
    Maybe someday you'll see, when I've killed every evil thing,
    Maybe you'll believe in me!"


    -"I Will Rip Their Jaws Apart" by Captain Chaos


  24. EleCivil

    Oh yeah!

    By EleCivil,

    If you'll excuse me for a second, I've gotta gloat just a little...
    Studies in Modern World Literature - A
    World Geographical Politics - A
    Philosophy - A
    Science for Educators - A
    Educational Psychology - A
    ...BOOYAH! In your face, last semester! Thought ya had me there at the end, but Civie don't go down that easy! *Pelvic thrust x3*
    All right, done now. Sorry about that, but it's been a while since I've last had reason to shout "Booyah" while thrusting at anything.
    On an unrelated note, Jest told me that he's getting his little sister a CD player for Christmas, and showed me her Christmas list of CDs that she wants. He's trying to nudge her in a good direction as far as taste in music goes, so he had already crossed Nick LaChay and Young Joc off of the list. But the coolest thing was that at the top of her list, her number one choice, was the very first CD I ever bought, back when I was her age - "Black Sails in the Sunset" by AFI. Note, this was back when AFI was still a pretty decent punk band, before they signed to a major label and went all boring and goth-rock-ish. Apparently, she kind of liked their new corporate blood-rock singles, but then she came over and listened to some of my old CDs and said "This is so much better! I can't believe it's the same band!" I don't know why I get such a kick out of knowing that she wants the exact same CD that I did when I was her age, but I know exactly what I'm getting her for Christmas.
    "I may be ten years old but I still know what's up.
    I wear my Cramps shirt almost every single day.
    I want to sag my pants,
    I want to pogo dance,
    but Mom won't let me so I might just run away!"


    -"I Wanna Get a Mohawk (but Mom Won't Let Me Get One)" by AFI


  25. EleCivil

    Freedom and Macaroni

    By EleCivil,

    As of last night, I am done with this semester. I've written roughly 70 pages of cited, academic papers over the course of the last week, and my brain is fried.
    I was in the student union, working on a five-hour study session for a final exam - four textbooks spread out across the table along with seven different bundles of stapled paper, me in the middle, flipping madly between them, pausing only to write something down. I finally finish up, close the books, and lean back, taking a deep breath. This guy from my philosophy class who I've only talked to once or twice happened to be sitting nearby. He looks over at me and says "...Ping-pong break?" I say "Hell yes", and we proceed to the ping-pong table.
    Now, neither of us is a pro at table tennis, but we've both got advantages - I'm a juggler, so I'm really good at judging where an object is going to land based on the top two inches or so of its arc, and he's roughly seven feet tall, so he can reach anything without taking a step. 'Twas an epic match, indeed - since we were both at the same skill level, we were able to keep going for long periods of time from each serve. Other people put down their books to watch. He stood there, never having to move his feet, hitting everything that I sent at him, while I kept moving, jumping to exactly the right spot to hit it back. In the end, I won, but just barely. And then I went on to take an exam in Modern World Lit, which wasn't nearly as competitive (it pretty much just sat there and let me write all over it).
    Also, as I was typing this, Jest (the roommate) walked by and handed me a macaroni necklace, saying "I made this for you today." That's a lie, because I was with him all day and there were no strings or noodles anywhere near us, but I put it on anyway. So now I'm free from school and rockin' the noodles.
    Currently Listening: "As Free As The Rent We Don't Pay" by Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains

PayPal

Help Keep

AwesomeDude Online

Scan to donate

QR code
×
×
  • Create New...