Finals Week

I am under the strong belief that life comes in waves. Life will be packed with problems that hit one after another for a short time, followed by a mellow brake. In short, when it rains it pours. The month of December is a guaranteed month of continuous waves.
For many students, the epitome of college classes comes down to the last week, the final week. Certain classes have finals worth more than 40 percent of the class. Additionally, some schools, like BYU, require every teacher to give some sort of written final. For the 18-credit-hour student this does not bode well.
If the stress of finals is not pressing, then scheduling them in a busy month will. This year, finals are scheduled right before Christmas. Christmas shopping, plans, and vacations in return are postponed to the final week of Christmas (20-24). In essence, one should never anticipate a well-thought-out gift from a college student.
This year I chose to work the holiday month of December. By saying I "chose" to work, means that I have no money and I need to work. During finals week, I am scheduled 226 hours. Ouch! This will take away a lot of cramming time. I hope that the pursuit to get some money for Christmas gifts doesn't affect my grades.
Lastly, I decided to throw an 'Ugly Sweater Christmas Party' during finals week. Why? Mainly because it is before Christmas and the week afterward everyone will have already left for home. So unfortunately, this is the only week it will fit in.
To sum it up, I have to worry about the following things this month:
1) Finals and grades
2) Work (26 hours of fun)
3) Christmas shopping and gifts
4) Throwing an amazing Ugly Sweater Party

I think the whole college experience can be summed up in this week. This week determines whether one will sink or swim in college. I am a pretty good swimmer, so I plan on staying afloat.

There's no comfort in the waiting room

Every so often, hopefully less often, you experience a day you would never want to repeat. I recently had one of those days. While, I would rather never experience that day again, the day is worth mentioning.
On Friday I went snowboarding with a group of friends. After buying a season's ski pass, I have tried to make this a weekly ritual. On most occasions, this weekly ritual is the best form of therapy from a hard week. However, this trip ended differently. Our group was enjoying the fresh powder and back-country terrain, until we reached the bottom of the hill. At the bottom we noticed two people from our group were missing. Our questions were quickly answered as Drew, of the missing friends, called and informed us that Trevor, the other missing friend, had crashed. With ski patrol we retraced our tracks, and found him laying face up, shaking with pain. The sound of his breathing indicated the great amount of pain and effort it took to simply breathe. We tried to comfort him, telling him "everything is going to be okay." In truth we were trying to convince ourselves of just that. It took roughly an hour, but we were finally able to get him into an ambulance and to the hospital.
After reaching the hospital we were directed to the waiting room. We walked past several people, each wearing a sullen expression, reflected what we were also feeling.
We met up with his family, whom we contacted on the drive, and told them of our experience in further detail. Though it had just an hour ago happened, the story seemed so surreal out loud. The conversation died down after that. As I sat there, I couldn't help but be reminded of the song "What Sarah Said", by Deathcab for Cutie. The lyrics continually played through my mind, "It came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time, as I stared at my shoes in the ICU that reeked of piss and 409. i sat amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines, in a place all fear to say goodbye." I lifted my head, looked around and found that everyone was silently inspecting their own shoes. No one was reading the magazines, just lost in their world of questions and worries. "I rationed my breathes as I said to my self, 'have I already taken to much today?' Then I looked around at all the eyes on the ground as the t.v. entertained itself." I looked around again and saw the family's worried, easy-to-read expressions. Small talk is in short supply in the waiting room. Everyone feels the need to fill the silence with words, but silence's serious presence batters off courage. "There's no comfort in the waiting room, just nervous faces bracing for bad news. Then the nurse comes round, and everyone lifts their head, I am thinking of what Sarah Said." The nurse came up to us with a clipboard in hand. She looked at the clipboard, then to her side, then eventually told us that Trevor had broken all his ribs on his left side, many in two places. In addition he had a serious concussion, and punctured one of his lungs. To his fortune it had only partially deflated.
Strictly family was allowed to visit him in his hospital bed. After spending four hours in the ICU waiting room, we left, forced to return back to our separate realities. We contacted everyone we could think of that would want to hear about Trevor's state. We then rallied visiting groups and friends to visit him in the next coming days. Pity food and support was all we could do for him now. Though cookies can't heal the wounds, they can heal the soul.
It was then that I noticed my car was still up at the resort, my keys and phone locked inside. My friend offered me a ride up, a kind act well received. After opening my car, I noticed I had two voice-mail messages on my phone. Apparently, the first message informed me, my work had changed the schedule and I had been placed to work at 6:00 p.m. today instead of Saturday. The second message an hour later was my boss wondering why I was not there yet. It was now 8:00 pm, and I had to drive from Salt Lake to my work in Orem. In an effort to get there as soon as possible I drove quickly. The highway-patrol man believed that was too quick, he pulled me over on the freeway and gave me an expensive ticket.
I eventually got to work. I spoke with my boss for several minutes and was relieved to hear that the scheduling error was not my fault, but my bosses mistake. However, they were low on help, so they asked me to stay. They also informed me that tonight was a rare night were the store would be open till past midnight selling a midnight release of the movie Eclipse. I stayed till past midnight, 12:45 to be exact, cleaning up Twi-hard fan's (die hard fans of the Twilight series, usually young teenagers or 42-year-old moms) mess.
Around one o clock I got home, physically, mentally, and emotionally tired from the day. At home I realized that my laundry was at my house in Salt Lake, a cherry on the top of a fantastically dreadful day.
I sat in self-pity for a few minutes, until I came to my senses. Though I had a rough day, I had gained some perspective. My day was no where as bad as Trevor's day. I may have been tired, and frustrated with a series of bad luck moments, but Trevor had one bad-luck moment that would dramatically effect the next several months.
Two days before this dreadful day, I received a challenge/assignment in one of my classes. The challenge was to do something nice for someone in stress this weekend. The assignment was meant to get us out of our regular routine by doing something completely unselfish. While last two days have been filled with unselfish acts of support for a friend, I did not act because of a school assignment. In fact, I pity the person that needs a school assignment as motivation to do what is right in moments like this weekend.
The assignment didn't come to my mind until Saturday afternoon, when my roommate's girlfriend Elise, brought me a plate of cookies. She had heard about my rough day, and wanted to bring something to cheer me up. The irony of the situation was overwhelming. I had an assignment to do something small and nice for someone under a lot of stress. It never came to my mind, upon getting the assignment, that I would be the one in the stress. The assignment seemed trivial, but now I see the importance of a small plate of cookies.

True Rivalry

Rivalry is common in many areas of life. Whether in the workplace, school, or on the sports field, rivalry can be a motivating factor that brings en-heightened excitement to regular competition.
You know that you have a true rivalry when the fear of losing is greater than the joy of winning. The prolonged embarrassment from losing does not fade quickly.
On the sports field, rivalry often reaches its peaks. Though fans are merely bystanders cheering on a team, fans see the victory as much contributed by their cheering as to the athletic ability of their team. In a real sense, the team's victory is their victory; the superior team reflects the superior fan.
An anticipated war on the field took place a few days ago between two arch-enemies, The BYU Cougars and the Utah Utes. This is a true rivalry because it lives true to the definition defined earlier, the fear of losing is greater than the joy of victory.
This rivalry is especially intense for me, an open Utah Ute fan living in the cougar's den of BYU fans. My future for a few weeks time is dependent on the outcome of the game. When we are defeated, I become the scape goat of laughter. When we are victorious, I become the must-avoid friend.
I was at the game on Saturday between the Cougars and the Utes. Though I am, as Bill Cosby would say it, an "intellectual, that attended college, mind you," that understands that this match is merely a game that has no intrinsic future value, I become emotionally evolved with these three hours of football. Each play, each mistake, each bad call tugs at my heart strings. The score was 13-0 at the half for the enemy, the faces of the fans were as dramatic as veterans seeing ghosts of war memories.
The 3rd quarter begins and ends with no change. The hope of even the biggest fans begin to dwindle. The 4th quarter starts, and the Utes score! Though it is just 3 points, hope is renewed. A turnover by BYU, followed by a Ute touchdown! The scoreboard reads, 13-10. BYU drives towards the in-zone. They are stopped! They kick a field goal, it's good, 16-10. The Utes get it...turnover! The anger of the hopeful fans thunders. BYU drives forward...turnover! The cheer of the mob is deafening. Utes push forward, and forward. Jordan Wynn passes long....touchdown! The Utes take the lead 17-16 with four minutes left to play. BYU receives the kick...they push down the field. A third down and long...converted. BYU enters the red zone (20 yards from the in-zone), 1 minute left to play. Jake Heaps passes to the inzone....incomplete! Another 3rd and long for the Cougars, every fan is off their chair. Stopped short! The time keeps ticking...40 seconds, 30, 20, 10, 4 seconds and BYU calls a final timeout.
BYU just needs a field goal to win, it all comes down to this last play. The thoughts of every Ute can unites, "block the kick, block the kick," consistent like the beating of every heart. The match can't end with a simple field goal. Despite the odds against missing or blocking the field goal every Ute fan knows the season can't end this way. The ball is snapped. The kicker thrusts his leg and makes contact with the ball, it launches forward and upward. Brandon Burton lunges forward...arms stretched out. The ball hits his arms, the kick is blocked! The kick is blocked! A cheer erupts from the crowd, shaking the stadium with its earthquake force. A sea of red fans break over the barrier and cover the field. Utah wins, Utah wins!
Though it was merely a one-point victory, the fans don't care. A win is a win. Arguments about bad calls, injured players and other game factors is sure to follow, but the end result will stay the same.
In the end, a true rivalry brings out the best and worst of each team. Each team plays at their best, and their worst in the course of the game. BYU's special teams fumbled a punt, had a field goal blocked, and the quarterback threw an interception. Utah's ranking offense didn't score until the 4th quarter, the quarter back threw 3 interceptions, and special teams never returned a kick pas the 20-yard line.
The reason a true rivalry will always be exciting is because despite each team's ranking, and past losses or victories, the game will always be determined in the exciting final minutes of the game. That is what makes a rivalry an anticipated and exciting game. Go Utes!

Christmas Music Protocals

November 2nd, two days after Halloween, I went to the store. I was greeted by Santa Claus, and cheery Christmas music. Too Soon? Maybe.
When can you listen to Christmas music and not feel it to be too soon? Like with everything, the opinions vary. Some say Christmas music should only be played in December. Others say that it can be played after Halloween. The happy medium, and average answer, was that Christmas music is okay after Thanksgiving, but not before it.
As an avid Christmas-music listener, it can almost never be too early. Two years ago, I started listening to Christmas music around mid-September. Crazy you say? Or is it that I just have more Christmas spirit and everyone else is a scrooge.
However, I even admit that it is strange that every store after Halloween has decked the halls with Christmas merchandise. What about Thanksgiving? While I love Christmas, it falls to second place in my favorite holiday's list. Stores, in an effort to get as much holiday buck as possible, have cleverly tossed Thanksgiving aside. It is merely a roadblock to the "money making" holiday.
Hence, the only clear solution to this conundrum is to create and market a series of Thanksgiving songs. If Thanksgiving is to stand a chance, we must have Thanksgiving music that carols the holiday's presence.
Thanksgiving day songs? Yes. Just think of the possibilities. Songs can be written about turkeys, yams, and most importantly football. Aged, 'has-been' bands like N'sync can come out with Thanksgiving albums. And don't think I forgot about Manheim Steamroller. I anxiously await there Thanksgiving album, along with a performance from Trans-Siberain Orchestra.

It's not you, its me...

"It's not you it's me," may be something everyone has said at one point in time. We may have said it in a joking matter amongst friends. But sometimes it is said in a car, a quiet sullen conversation we all dread.
"The chemistry just isn't right," a select choice of words that is meant to delicately say, "I have lost all attraction for you." This particular phrase is usually followed by "it was bad timing," equivalent to saying, "more time will not make this work."
We all know that these phrases are cliche, and they mask the real truth. Often I hear that we should just speak the truth, instead of these fabricated lies. After all, everyone values the truth.
Truth be told, when you are on the receiving end of these conversations, the last thing you want to hear is the truth. The initial message of the conversation is enough to shake anyone's self esteem, without the extended commentary reigning blows to your self worth.
Truth be told, we don't want to hear the truth. We are already thinking it. It is the awkward third wheel in the room we pretend to ignore. What we want to hear is a series of explanations that tell enough about the situation, while ignoring the personal flaws that could have attributed to it.
Truth be told, we don't want to tell the whole truth. We need these universally understood phrases to let them know the relationship is ending. Like a street light, it is signal to stop (or rather go) to which we all have been programmed to respond.
"I hope we can be friends," is almost always said. What we may be trying to say is that I hope you won't hate me in the future. The friendship is really dependent on what happens afterward.

The Five Worst Places to Meet Guys (weekly blog # 7)

Last week I wrote about the 5 worst places to meet girls. It received a good response. However, girls were asking me about the 5 worst places to meet guys. So I did some quick research and here is what I came up with.

The 5 Worst Places to Meet Guys (no particular order)

1.) At the movie, "Notebook"
At first glance this sounds like a great idea; this guy must be sensitive. However, you must remember this is a guy we are talking about. If he is going to this movie to meet girls, it is because he is out of options. This is the last attempt for this guy. He has failed everywhere else, and now has to play the sensitive emotional guy, to get a girl to talk to him.

2.) Visiting a friend in jail.
If you are talking to a friend in jail, and the guy next to him starts making eyes at you, don't batter those lashes! I know, I know, his tattoos and dangerous 'bad guy' vibe is alluring. But set the standard bar up a few notches...or in this case get a standard bar.

3.) At the drive-through window at the bank.
This sounds like a good spot. The guy works at the bank, hes got money, he's cute...but remember flirting takes time, and there is a line behind you. Don't be that annoying car that takes 20 minutes to cash a check. HONK! Hurry up! Instead go inside everyday all stalker like, until he is working at the desk. Then you can get your flirt' on.

4.) At the Hair salon, under a big dryer.
Little hint...if he is sitting under one of those big hair dryers...He's gay, keep looking.

5.) At the Santa display in the mall.
You have two options. First, you end up talking to a handsome guy waiting with his child to sit on Santa's lap. Surprised to see he is married? Really? Secondly, you happen to think that maybe Santa or one of his elves are single. Bad decision. They are elves...small elves...wearing tights. As for Santa, here is a 50-year-old, overweight man dressed up in a red suit. Not the the prime of the pickings. If you think to yourself, "Maybe I will be like one of those girls that dates the much older guy." They do that for money. This guy is not going to be rollin' the cash in. He works as a Santa in the mall. Keep looking.

As mentioned before, I am not saying it is impossible to meet Mr. Right at one of these places...it just isn't the best place to start looking for him.

American Scream

Before you start reading this do the following:

1.) Turn off the lights
2.) Turn up the sound on your speakers
3.) Right click on the youtube video link below and open it in a new tab. Then press play (or just open it in a new tab, because it will play automatically) and come back to reading this.(it is just a song, so you don't need to watch it before reading it, rather listen to it while reading)

Right click on this, and open in new tab

Ok, now you are ready to read this week's blog.

It's back. The feeling has returned, this time it's overwhelming. Like needles poking every inch of my skin, the feeling awakened me from sleep. I want to open my eyes, but that feeling chokes off my courage, and common sense. "Something is out there, you're being watched," it screams into my mind.
Aftermath of a bad dream, I tell myself. Yet, the feeling remains. What time is it? Is it morning? If I open my eyes, I will see my digital clock and it's illuminated red numbers will answer these questions. All I need to do is turn my head and look. "Don't open your eyes, it's still out there, still watching you," the feeling presses.
Don't be silly, I tell myself. Nothing is out there, nothing is "watching" you. I open my eyes. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the dark. My head is facing the wall next to my bed, with the light from my basement window shining onto it. The strange feeling that woke me up remains. Blankly staring at the wall, I try to remember when I have felt this not-so foreign feeling before. The sound of a footstep jerks my attention. Another footstep. The source of the sound blocks the light from the window. A image of a shadow begins to form, growing as it moves closer to my window, to me. Someone is watching me. The feeling was right.
My mind races. Where is the nearest weapon? Will I have time to get to it? Is it just a trick of the mind? If only I could turn my head and look around my room. Then I could see who or what it is.
An idea enters my head, the thing doesn't know I am awake. Is it worth the risk?
I slowly turn my head around, until my left ear and eye press against the pillow. Slowly, I open my left eye, my eyelid grazes the pillow case. Though my vision is blocked, I begin to make out details in my room; my dresser, my desk and chair come begin to take shape.
The quickening breath is the only sound I hear. It can hear me, it knows I am scared. It's coming for me.
"Focus," I tell myself. Don't panic. The only way I can know what's there, is by turning my head towards my window. It could be nothing...but then again what if it's not?

The song has probably stopped, so here is a link to another song. Do as you did before by right clicking on the link, and opening it in a new tab. Then press play and read on. (if the song is still going, switch songs anyways...)

Right click on this and open in new window

The feeling became stronger. Don't turn your head. But I needed to see who or what it is. A sound of movement comes from the window. I begin turning my head. I see the corner of the window. I stop. I close my left eye all to but a small slit, barely enough to see. I keep turning my head until the back rests against my pillow. I see the figure, next to my window. Who is it I ask as I squint to focus. The rough details of his face, his scruffy beard, his dark eyes begin to clear in my vision. He turns his head side to side, searching my room. A dog barks. He turns to the sound as my eyes are forced upon. Before I have time to think, he turns back, looking straight at me. "Close your eyes!" my mind shouts, but fear overcomes reason. We stare at each other. Then he slowly gets ups, his eyes still locked on mine. He straightens up, looks to both sides, and starts walking away....

This is a true story. I ended up running to my parent's room, recounting everything to my dad. We turned on all the lights, and then with makeshift weapons checked the back and front yard, but he was nowhere to be found. I learned a lesson; never ignore that feeling again.

The Five Worst Places to Meet Girls (weekly blog # 6)

It can happen anywhere. It might happen at the library while studying. Or, it could happen at church. Depending on your confidence and luck, You could get a cutie's number and a date wherever you go. However, just because it can happen anywhere, doesn't mean that every place is ideal. In fact, there are a number of places that I can think of, that would be better not to try; for time's convenience, I will name five in no particular order.
1. On the internet...while playing World of Warcraft
Hands down this is not a good place to try to put on the moves for several reasons. Not only do you have no idea what she looks like (she is not an elf), but you also know what she does at 1:30 a.m. on a Tuesday. While this is every nerd's dream...it has only happened once in documented history. Save the pick up lines for the next star wars convention.
2. At the store...in the wart medicine isle.
Guys (or girls)don't try this one. Even if a hottie comes up next to you and starts browsing. Let's just pretend that you do happen to start up a conversation; you exchange a few jokes, she smiles. Chances are she won't fall for the "I'm buying it for my roommate" line. Yet, if she does, the question should by now pop in your mind...why is she in this isle? She must have warts too. It is scientific fact that if she has warts she is a witch. You don't want to date a witch.
3. At a family reunion
Enough said...unless you are from Alabama.
4. At the Laundry Mat
Everybody has a favorite shirt, or outfit. Yet on the other hand, everybody has that one shirt or outfit that they don't want to wear...until there are no clean clothes; the laundry day outfit. When it comes done to it, you want to be on your game, playing your strengths to get that number. Sweat pants and that "Idaho is the bomb" shirt don't help your chances.
5. At Lamaze class
Here at BYU some guys take marriage and family, or elementary education classes because of the positive girl-to-guy ratio. On that same thought, I signed up for a Lamaze class. Bad decision. all the girls were either married or dating some French guy named Fiance. Needless to say I did not get any date out of that class. But I did learn to breath properly.
I want to clarify myself, It is possible to meet the girl of your dreams at any of these places. But when trying to up your odds of Friday night adventure, it is best not to start at one of these five places.

All the small things

I reached into my pocket and found 20 dollars. Wow, it was like finding money, literately. It was the highlight of my week. Certain people would say that is sad, but I believe that the small things make a day (or a week). Who can argue against that when a small plate of cookies is left on your table?
When one thinks about it, Christmas is based on that principle (that and the whole tradition/religion thing...). Children wake up and find presents under a tree upon a cold Christmas tree. It doesn't matter what present you get, some random person (Santa Clause) left a wrapped gift for you.
So based on that principle, I decided to make someone's day. I started thinking where can I make a difference. Then I noticed, anything related to hunger and food, is a good choice. The next question was where would I find hungry people on a college campus...it would be near impossible. Then while walking in a hall, I noticed a line to a vending machine. That's it, the gold mine; the last resort to quiet a loud obnoxious stomach. So, later that day when there was no one around, I bought three items (a candy bar, some chips, and a cookie) and never reached in to get them. I left with the knowledge that some lucky hungry person would walk sullenly up to the vending machine, counting the change in their hands, contemplating what item would best stop the hunger. I don't know who was the eventual person to get the gift, but I hope it made their day.

MTV, How the world changes...(weekly blog #4)

I was a deprived child growing up. Unlike the majority of kids my age, I did not have cable television. I was too young to pose the great question, "why me", yet I still felt its affects. In many conversations, I sat alienated amongst a crowd of teenagers; I was the silent participant nodding along, trying to pretend I knew what was being said.
College opens many doors; one door it opened was the door to cable. Finally in my twenties was I able to regularly view, if I so wished, the programs and channels that so commonly filled mindless night conversations. The big TV options were now in my living room; MTV, VH1, Disney, Travel, Discovery, History and many more. However time has changed, and TV along with it.
When I was young MTV was the music television channel. It showed music videos all day long, while featuring interviews with many popular bands. It became big enough that MTV bought a second channel, MTV2. Music was available to the young public. Then reality TV was invented. Suddenly, the mixture of emotions so often put into song were not enough for the young teenage generation, they needed additionally to see the emotion. MTV began filling its hours with fictitious, monotonous reality shows; Big Brother, The Real World (an ironic name to the fact that it was in now way what it implied), Road Rules and so much more. It wasn't long until MTV and MTV2 were no longer music television...but rather reality television.
Yesterday while browsing the channels, I came to realize that MTV and MTV2 have made yet another shift. Now they aren't filled with reality TV shows featuring the regular Jane and Joes', but instead the used-to-be celebrities. They shifted from MTV, music television; to MTV, reality television; to MTV, celebrities last chance to stay in the spotlight.
Why am I ranting on about some needless subject like this? The answer is simple; MTV should change its name. It shouldn't be called the music TV channel if it has nothing to do with music! That is like calling the food network channel the cartoon network. The name is confusing, misleading, and worse of all, distracting to thousands of regular people. The name is forcing people like you and I to think on this stupid matter instead of worth-while productive things like work, or snowboarding.
In conclusion, I quote the song "Title and Registration" written by the famous band Death Cab for Cutie, while taking the liberty to switch a word of two. I think they would agree with my switch, if not have meant it in the first place. "The channel MTV, is inaccurately named and everybody knows it. So I'm proposing a swift orderly change, because on the screen there is no music to be seen. All that's left are memories of better times."
I am not out to change, just the name of a TV channel.

Math Can Get Worse? (Weekly Blog 3)

Mrs. Jergenson had the power to tear a yellow pages phone book in half! If that didn't scare the wits out of young junior-high teenagers, the fact that she taught pre-algebra did. She was no taller than 5'6", weighing in a rough estimate of 250 lbs (give or take 100 lbs). Her short quaggy arms capable of phone-book-tearing power were of no match to her scowl. One sarcastic or ill timed comment during class was all it took before the wrath was unleashed upon the entire group. Needless to say, it was an often quiet and anxiety filled 50 minute period. However, that is not why I don't like math.
Truth be told, I have never enjoyed math. I understand it. I can do it. I usually don't have a problem finding the logical solutions to those quirky worded conundrums. Yet, I have never had the satisfaction that some attain from its ordered structure. A friend of mine often said, "Working on a math problem is like sculpting a sculpture, you become more intrigued and passionate the farther along you get until you finally finish. Then you can sit back and admire the beauty of what you have done." Hmmm. I would say sculpting is more like sculpting. Math is more like busy number work. Yet despite all my disinterest with math, we have always had a professional relationship. That is until math met Facebook.
Before math became involved with Facebook, she was very predictable. 1 + 1 = 2, 2 + 2 = 4 ETC. However, after their short courtship math began to become quite unpredictable, illogical, and concerned with non-important details and problems. Anyone that has used Facebook knows of what I speak. Here are a couple examples of common math "problems and solutions" as seen when the two are together;

(a) 1 gallon of ice cream + 1 bottle of chocolate sauce + A romantic comedy = The best pity party ever!
(b) The Alpha-Beta girls + Hot basketball team - homework = A Saturday night to remember!

As you can see this makes no logical sense. Ever since meeting Facebook, math has been caught up in the need to feel accepted by pop culture and has tried hard to appeal to its superficial needs. I fear that this relationship is destructive to Math's self esteem. Soon she is going to be so confused with who she is. It won't be long until these simple (yet very stupid) expressions of pop culture math are going to become worse like;

1 Pair of high heels + short shorts/ A lady Gaga CD + f (the derivative) of my favorite lip gloss - cutesy socks^ (to the power of)fuzzy pink = Girls night out!

People, we can't let this happen. We can't sit back and let this destructive relationship tear away at Math. We must get Math back to where she was before that fateful meeting of Facebook. We need to separate them in the most awkward way possible so that they won't be able to stand being in the same room together. We need to do what's best for them both! Who's with me? (This is the part where you enthusiastically raise your fist in the air and give your most Brave-heart-like 'Yeah').

Extended Refrigerator syndrome (weekly Blog 2)

Last week I wrote on the amazing and natural phenomenon I refer to as the Refrigerator syndrome. It states simply that, any person within the means of ones' own kitchen, without the preoccupation of an imperative or dominating task, will open the refrigerator upon the path of passing it. After discovering and proving this a true theory, I began seeing other likewise patterns of the refrigerator syndrome in other aspects of life. One could argue that they are in need of separate theories, but the connection and similarities these instances have with the refrigerator syndrome indicate that they may just be branches to this idea.
One such branch I discovered on a quiet Wednesday afternoon. While in the process of researching world renowned animal-based holidays on the internet, I found that I was frequently checking my Gmail account. I took a short break from my research. Upon my return, the first thing I did was check my email. Within 20 minutes of being on the internet, I checked it another 5 times. It struck me. Can this have any correlation with my famous refrigerator syndrome? There were definite similarities....every time I pass the fridge I open it, every time I open a new internet browser I check my email. Like the fridge, If I pass by it (the gmail tab) and I am not doing anything constructive, I open it up. There usually isn't anything interesting in either, except junk food and junk mail, and many such similarities.
The logic is so conclusive that I have adapted the refrigerator theory to email; any person within the means of ones' own internet browser, without the preoccupation of an imperative or dominating task, will check their email.
Though this extended theory has not been tested on a wide range, ask yourselves as readers if you are a contradiction to this natural human behavior. Open the internet and after a time close it. If you have checked your email within that range of time, then you are another testament to this idea. If you successfully open and close the internet several times without checking your email (note all this must be done without the conscious effort to avoid doing it) then you may have just ruined my life's work. Then you can feel really good that you have crushed my dream.

Refridgerator Phenomenon (Weekly Blog 1)

I walked past my refrigerator on a lazy Tuesday afternoon and opened it. To my dismay, I found that there was nothing alluring or interesting inside; a cartoon of milk, some old bread and some butter (which could claim longer residency in our apartment than we could). In disappointment, I closed the fridge and continued my search elsewhere. After opening all of the cabinets, I walked beside the fridge and opened again. Surprise, surprise still nothing noteworthy in it. I continued my search, pouring myself some water, and prowling through my roommate's cabinets. After extensive calculation that everything worth eating would surely not go unnoticed to my friend, I closed the cabinet drawer. I walked past the fridge again and before I knew it I had opened it. It was as if my subconscious installed a beam of hope that somehow this 'mystical cold box' had magically become filled with treasure.
It was then that I noticed the strange fridge phenomenon; whenever one walks past the fridge, assuming that he/she is not rushed with another task, they will open it despite any number of previous attempts. As in the story above, logically I knew that there was no food within the fridge. With quick reasoning I could deduct that no new food would magically appear with another attempt. Yet, the result with each pass of the fridge was the same; realization followed be disappointment.
After additional observation I realized that one did not even need to be hungry for this phenomenon to occur. I found myself opening the fridge with each passing, after eating dinner, late at night and even on the phone ordering a pizza.
This fact intrigued me, so additional research became imperative. I gathered statistics from a random sample of my roommates that were home. The results were the same. A larger sample was taken; friends of mine that were in attendance at a local party. Not surprisingly, the results affirmed my theory. A final survey was conducted over a three week span. Every conversation I had with people involving the subject of food led to a small survey regarding the fridge. The final results were staggering. The surveys showed an amazingly strong correlation with the number of times passed by the refrigerator and amount of times opening it. The factors that seemed to drive these results were as follow; hunger, boredom, talking on the phone, cooking something in the microwave, and midnight wandering of the house. Naturally there were outliers, 2 such male participants were reported to open the refrigerator multiple times with a single passing, While on the other extreme, one female participant reported she had only opened the refrigerator twice in her life.
As could be expected the number of cases proving this theory rose dramatically with awakened awareness. The survey participants continually phoned my office number (cell phone) with exciting stories of how they have just accidentally opened the refrigerator 7 times in the course of 10 minutes. As one can imagine, these messages brought me an indescribable joy with additionally excitement that we were finally on the verge of fully understanding the subconscious mind within the kitchen setting.
In an effort to rise public awareness, I have simplified my refrigerator phenomenon theory as follows; any person within the means of ones' own kitchen, without the preoccupation of an imperative or dominating task, will open the refrigerator upon the path of passing it. Not surprisingly, further research is being conducted as we speak to explain this strange act of human nature.

Utopia...Not a Laughing Matter

Utopia, the dream of a perfect world and society, has always been a theme in literature and art. The idea of a society without fault with perfect circumstances has resonated in every intellectual mind, and every Miss America speech. However, is a perfect society really ideal? For the comedian inside of me, I boldly say no! We need in-perfect leaders, mistake-making celebrities, incredibly stupid common day people, acknowledged cultural and racial differences, and unthinkable conditions.
Where would comedy be in a world where leaders of nations can't pronounce nuclear? What would Conan O'brien or Jay Leno have to joke about for months on end if Bill Clinton did not coin the famous phrase "I did not have sexual relations with that woman?" An important aspect of comedy is relating with the audience, which includes writing about things or events commonly known with which the audience has a strong connection or passion. So, naturally the comedic decisions or faults of a leader we all chose or voted against is an excellent source for a quick laugh. It is so effective that it has become the first place comedians look when writing new material. It is almost impossible to watch an episode of any late night talk show, or stand up comedy act without hearing a political allusion.
What if celebrities really were the idols that we were to shape our lives after? What if the intellectual standards of every movie actor were what we all would strive to reach? Ok, granted, not every celebrity is a complete mess, and they are people like us who make mistakes...but just think of where our jokes would be if we took Chuck Norris away from the world!? Our societal obsession of the lives, and especially the blunders of celebrities is so great that we even have a whole channel dedicated to it on basic cable! In an ideal world where celebrities did not mess up, where they were the intellectual giants that we all admired, the E channel would have a whole new challenge to live up to its name...it would have to become entertaining!
While in an ideal society there would be no crime...that would unfortunately lead to the conclusion that there would be no stupidest criminal stories, comprising crooks who get so involved in dancing in front of the camera they don't see the police arrive. The image of a perfect society would imply that all people do not make the most entertaining of mistakes, like the lady in Connecticut who greased the BOTTOM of the pan resulting in a little house fire. Along those lines, Jay Leno's Headlines would not even exist!
In the ideal society, the differences in cultures and race become eliminated. While equality and prejudice would consequently disappear too, so would the stand-up acts of Chris Rock, and common racially-slurred sketches of SNL and Mad T.V.
What am I getting at? It is actually quite simple...in the ideal society the humor that we so passionately enjoy in today's world would be no more! In a world full of perfect people, all the humor we would have left would be funny animal clips as seen on America's funniest home videos and the Animal Planet Channel. Granted...I probably watched the you tube video of the monkey that sniffed his finger and then immediately fell out of the tree a thousand times, and can not get sick of the video with the bear and the trampoline...but wait a second, the whole premise of that video is that people honestly thought it a good idea (which comedically it was gold) to shoot the bear with the tranquilizer hoping the trampoline would work perfectly to plan...another stupid decision from us, which in a perfect society would not have happened...so even that video we would not be enjoying in Utopia.
Ok, for those who can't read past the sarcasm, I am in no way saying that a perfect society is a bad idea. Infact, I think I could be entertained for many years on the same animal videos on youtube that i previously mentioned. However, as we complain about the mistakes of world leaders, the oh-so-entertaining celebrities being the source of every news channel, the stupidity of the guy at work trying to purchase food from the vending machine with monopoly money, and the racial and cultural differences that sometimes lead to misunderstandings, we must remember to ejoy the simple humor underlining this in-perfect world. Though we should strive to always make a better world...it won't kill us to step back and laugh at the mistakes we make along the way.