May 2002

I had an interview at the Wall Street Journal yesterday. Let me tell you, I didn’t know if bursting into tears of joy would have helped me land the job, but I was on the verge of doing it anyway. Having my potential future boss describe the job’s responsibilities, and having them match up to exactly what I enjoy doing and am good at, was one of the greatest feelings I’ve ever experienced. I am competent at something that I enjoy doing, and hot damn I could get paid for it. I know how Tomas feels about this kind of thing, but I know how he feels about a lot of things, so I’m right on track. Damn I love money, everything about it. How it represents the amount of work one’s done, how spending it means someone else is earning it, how it just keeps circulating around making us a giant community. Money brings us together, and if people don’t see it, then they can give theirs to me. Though I have yet to see anybody make it without money; and no, you can never make too much of it.

But back interviewing, without which I’d be as broke as ever. I had two yesterday, one was with Vertis, Inc. where my dad, sister, my other sister (temporarily) and possibly Dia work. I’m really not sure about working at a place with only a few people, and I’m not even sure if I’m up to whatever tasks they decide to throw my way. I have a feeling I’d have to be friends with everyone who worked there if I end up there. I’d rather throw myself into work I’m more sure I’d like and have the friendly co-workers be a bonus.

Now the WSJ interview, it was golden. I met with Cathy in the staffing office first and she asked a boatload of questions. What surprised me is that she mainly wanted to know if I was ready to move on and into corporate America. She seemed to think that the Aramark and Tracor jobs on my resume were really important experiences that showed me how to operate in the “real world”. I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that before; maybe Linda Sarnoski gave me more that that cool “wave of the future” poster and I didn’t even know it.

After the staffing interview, it was off to meet Howard, the Global Chief Paginator. Man oh man what I’d do to get that title. I was so nervous that I sort of tuned out the first thing he said to me, something about delays in the Asian and European editions. Probably not the best thing to do, but I made sure that I was with him every step of the way from there on out. Which was definitely the best thing, since the interview with his office took about an hour and a half.

I talked with Howard about layout and why I enjoy it so much, and he told me about how the section editors send over how the important things on the page should be laid out — either drawn or scripted — and the rest is up to the paginator (that’s me). After some small talk about The Triangle (mainly the crime report for some reason) and what I like to do in my free time (“You’re not on the paper anymore remember, what will you do for fun now?” he said; ouch), he showed me the layout system they use, Hermes.

The system is pretty cool. It knows what articles in the layout are too long, too short, still being worked on, have pull-quotes and captions waiting, etc. It can do some pretty fancy stuff that add precious minutes to each section’s layout. I can only pray that I’ll have a chance to use soon.

One more thing about Howard before he introduced me to two of his paginators. When he prodded me to hear what kind of movies I like, the conversation turned to Spider-Man for a second, where I was told that he “really likes that Kirsten Dunst.” He went on, “Normally I don’t like movies about cheerleaders but Drop Dead Gorgeous and Bring It On were fun because of her.” I couldn’t agree with him more. If this guy turns out to be my boss, we’ve already got one thing in common, that’s for sure. On to my potential future co-workers….

Guy #1 was pretty cool. The only thing I could have messed up was telling him that I hated the lazy bums at Aramark, because towards the end he told me that the atmosphere around the place is probably more like Aramark. Hope he didn’t take my comments the wrong way.

Guy #2 was went even better. He gave me a brief run-down, then said he’d let me go since he knew how interviews could be. I asked him a brief question about an error I found, and it turned into shop talk where I asked a shitload of good questions. I think it was the best conversation I’ve ever had during an interview. Rock.

On the way out, Howard asked me “Why should I hire you over someone else?” After stuttering for a second, I answered that I’d throw myself into work, putting in as much time as I was needed even if it meant extra hours . I was so flustered that I don’t remember if I was that clear in my actual response, but that’s what I was trying to get across; I hope my message made it. The rest of the way out was minor small talk about when I could start and the trip to Poland I was taking. I think I should have asked about the other candidates or if I got the job or not, but I still think I did pretty well.

Did I mention the WSJ campus has a duck pond?!

Or at least, it would be if I had spoken to Lisa since last we argued. She sent me a letter apologizing for upsetting me, but it was my fault for blowing things out of proportion. I replied with the shortest and lamest of messages because my week got even worse as it went along. I just haven’t gotten into the swing of things because I haven’t found the groove again. Tommorow it’ll be all things in moderation once again.

Anyway, this is longer than I intended. Lisa, you’re not a bitch, and if your lapse in blogging is due to me I hope you start up again.

I’m an asshole, so I’m done posting for this month and maybe longer.

There’s been some discussion about the purpose of having a blog. For me, its a place to post my thoughts where anyone who’s interested can access them.

Regardless of whether they’re considered harsh or not, they’re my true feelings. I try not to post what my friends say if their comments could hurt them later. As for posting my comments, I trashed Nathan’s reviews once, and Marc continuously pisses me off so I use my blog to vent frustration he causes. Geof thinks I’m an asshole for posting my true feelings, but Duffy is right when he says they have to be personal to be interesting. My writings may be abrasive at times, but I don’t think that makes me an asshole.

Some people think that blogs are stupid. Al says that posting somplace other than blogger, like a “real” site, will necessarily make it better than a regular blog. Blogger is just a publishing tool, and a good one at that. What’s in a domain name? On the other hand, Al may have a point. I’d much rather have my blog at rudderow.com, but its lockdown state is the only reason this isn’t over there now. Ross is of the opinion that blogs are getting way out of hand. I’d have to agree with that one, though what are we going to do, stop writing? Probably not. Rob asks what’s up with all the blogging going on, yet he continues to read, I know I do. I just wish Lisa’s counter didn’t go up 20 times a day because of me.

If being honest means Geof won’t link to me, that makes me sad, but he only feels that way because I have a few negative opinions of Marc and one negative opinion about Nathan. It also makes me sad when Geof calls me an asshole because of it. Geof doesn’t have anything bad to write about anyone in his diary? He would feel comfortable writing about tulips and chocolate in his diary, leaving out all the little things that piss him off?

None of Geof’s arguments change the fact to me, my blog is my just diary, a place to put my thoughts down in writing. My thoughts just happen to be angrier than most.

Not a good ending, but I have to think on this some more.

I don’t think I’m going to be speaking with Lisa anymore. She has a way of taking what I say, twisting it around, and only then boiling it down into its simplest form. Witness this latest atrocity:

“Speaking of Bob’s argumentative style, try and wrap your brain around this one: Bob doesn’t like to “advertise” the fact that he and Dia are in a committed relationship because “I don’t want anyone to be disappointed.” Then he doesn’t see the problem when Dia gets stalked for two years by guys who think she’s available. His reasoning is that its possible that girls might join The Triangle if they think they have a chance with him (or guys if they think they have a chance with Dia). The idea is to get people committed to the paper, all the while stringing them along with false hopes of getting some, so that by the time they do accidentally find out Bob and Dia are taken, they don’t want to leave. This argument rests on two very improbable things: that people join the school newspaper (a group of self-proclaimed nerds who put in 40+ hours a week at publishing the paper) in order to find a sexual mate; and that Bob is somehow attractive to girls other than Dia. I don’t think I need to elucidate on the weakness of his argument.”

Now, realize that this discussion took place while I was driving down I-95 with Lisa shouting in my ear. I entertained her arguments largely because it was humorous to hear her get so worked up over something that really isn’t any of her business. My focus wasn’t on the conversation where it should be, as Lisa has taken the liberty of posting statments that weren’t exactly clear. I would try to formulate my arguments better in the future, but I think I’m just going to avoid Lisa altogether.

First to clear things up: most of my arguments on that drive stemmed from one basic premise: I do not enjoy discussing my relationship with anyone. Not that I don’t do it, but that I don’t enjoy it. It makes me uncomfortable. I try to avoid the topic altogether, and that’s what usually happens. Sometimes in my attempts to change the topic or avoid it altogether I’ll make a joke that will let out even more than if I just answered the question straight up; that’s what happens when I come under pressure, and pressure is what I feel when discussing relationships. As for my remark that people joining the paper would find Dia attractive, that argument stems from the not liking to discuss our status as a couple. If Gus sticks around for a little longer because he thinks Dia’s single, I’d just as soon let him, because once again: I dislike like talking about it, so much that I’d let people go on making assumptions rather than correct them. Is this clear? Just once more: I’d probably prefer getting shot in the thigh than answer five questions about my love for Dia. Call it odd, I don’t care. Hell, it’s probably a phobia of some sort but that’s none of anyone’s business but mine.

Lisa likes to post retalitory remarks as much as I do, but posting comments made by people who were supposed to be your friends crosses the line. I merely attempted to make light of the drinking in the office. For now I think I’ll have nothing to do with her. It’s a shame, since Chris is my best friend, and even more of a shame because he’ll most certainly side with her because he’s her bitch. That and the fact that Lisa is perfect in every way, on her way to making it big as a patent lawyer.

Confidential to Lisa: You really hurt me by posting my comments.

And if Lisa was so concerned about the future of the paper, she wouldn’t have insulted its current staffers just because she’s not around anymore. My theory is that she’s just jealous that we’re getting away with having kiddie porn on our computers’ hard drives. So what if we all like to slather over 16-year-old sluts every Thursday night? I think it’s our business and no one elses. Lisa sure goes get all worked up in a tizzy. Mind your beeswax!

Of course this is in reference to a statement she posted, but linking in blogs is really stupid considering the number of links that will be broken in the next few weeks, let alone a year from now. So all those links to zany news articles and hysterical web pages don’t mean a damn thing if you’re interested in blogging for the sake of keeping a journal. In the meantime, go here immediately.

Three quick things to post before I forget.

1. I read Duffy’s blog just now about how he declined an invitation to return home with a girl and her friends because he was afraid of getting stranded in Roxborough. What a stupid thing to do. Everyone should know that all they have to do is give me a buzz if they get stranded and I’ll be there in a jiffy: 215.349.6634. I just violated the first rule of Internet, but I don’t care. Duffy, you are going to get the mocking you deserve come Monday.

2. There is some crazy lingo out there right now. Kevin Maguire helped Chris and me keep that much more of our street cred four years ago when he told us how “butter” everything was. That was back when P. B. Boyle was still around and Puz to the A K was sporting the freshest kicks. B. Boyz!

Then recently Chris heard the next big phrase, and all the former lingo was so “9 - 10 - oh - one,” which means passe. I’m not sure if it’s the skate rats who are saying this or if it’s the preppies, but I’m defintely liking it.

Now, I’m told that certain things “own.” Like a certain new cell phone battery or any number of objects that used to be butter and are now so 9-10-oh-one.

3. Speaking of things that own, I finally saw my first Philly street races. They appear to be back, “and in MY neighborhood,” as Fox News would say. We drove around for about an hour with the BetaBrite getting baguettes, mangoes and OJ and then getting stuck in Phillies traffic. (Got a few honks with the “crazy motherf***er” message, and got some guy to turn on his headlights, but nothing real excitin’-like.) Finally, after spotting some rice cars at the McDonald’s and some people parked on the side of Delaware Ave., we pulled over and got out too. Soon enough the races started, and while they weren’t all that exciting this time around there is at least hope for a full-fledged outing next week at 11 p.m. Mark your calendars.

Also, next time Tomas and his scanner better come along, because it was awfully scary once everyone started running away. Luckily, I don’t dick around when it comes to saving time in normal, everyday situations so I’m butter with the quick getaway. Less than two minutes later there was exactly one car left: the 5-0 that scared all the others away. I sure hope he’s happy he ruined everyone’s evening.

It was converted into vomit and spread over the floor of the staff office, courtesy of Tomas. The larger issue is that everything left over from last night was given to Al by Marc. I don’t know who the hell that little shit thinks he is, but it isn’t his place to give my things away to other people.

This is par for the course for Stanley (that’s Marc’s nickname; make sure you call him that whenever you see him because the reaction is great), who last night took off with the newspaper boards.

The symbolic walk is important, where the Editor-in-Chief carries an entire week’s worth of work up to deliver the paper to the front desk at New Tower hall. That alone wouldn’t upset me though. If Geof doesn’t think it’s all that grand an action, that’s up to him.

What really gets me though is that production night took a full two hours longer for two reasons: Marc is slow at layout, and Marc did a piss-poor job of putting together a chart earlier in the evening. So when it’s time to go, he has the audacity to take off without us? He can leave whenever the hell he wants, but he has no right to take the paper — something we all slaved over — with him.

I’m trying to cut back my involvement in The Triangle as graduation approaches, but it gets harder everytime I see Marc overstepping his bounds. Someone needs to smack the little Stanley back into place.

I won’t even bother posting about Triangle stuff, though if I write a caption for a photo I took — something I’ve been doing for years — I intend it to stay that way. Especially when it had been written for six hours and printed out for proofing for at least two.

I will post about the Amazing Race though. Very disappointed that Matt didn’t get back to me in time to send in our applications. We were short one photo of him and his passport. He tried to e-mail scans to me but since he’s a Penn State grad you can probably guess that I never got them. I would have had just enough time to insert his picture into a scan of my passport and alter the information, then send out the pictures, passport proof, each 11-page application and video interview to L.A. So as it turns out all that video stuff was for naught; not that we did anything really exciting, but nine takes was a little much to throw out the window.

Once again (or is it as always?) I’m pissed off. I was looking forward to Montreal. Steve’s little bastard college friends can kiss my ass. I’ve never seen a bigger bunch of flakes. Not that it was a big bunch to begin with, but they can flake with the best of them. Look at this excuse:

Hey guys,
I really can’t make it on the trip. I’m starting to see the problems going along with buying a foreign sports sedan. I have to have my front tire replaced and my alignment done, but since I have a very specific, Pirelli tire, and no one seems to be carrying Pirellis, I’m kind of SOL. I called around to numerous places, including 3 dealerships, and the only place that I could get the tire won’t have the tire in till tomorrow. And because of this, I won’t be able to take it in till Saturday. This really blows. I definitely want to do something with Steve before he takes the plunge. I can try to organize a group thing between now and the end of the month. Maybe we can get some more of the college crew that can’t make the long trip to Montreal as well. I bet I can rally up some troops, Frenchie, Marc, Leon, Rob, and we could all do a crazy local thing. There are places around here. Sure they’re not nearly as nice as Montreal, but I’m sure we’d have fun.

That was a post from Vishwajit Jha, otherwise known as Vish (or Vishous to Steve and his crew). Have you ever heard of something so lame? I told him he should drop his car off Saturday morning; I’ve never met the guy but I don’t have to to see that he’s a putz. What the hell is with this whole organizing-another-outing thing? Three goddamn months wasn’t enough notice for this trip?! These losers have no respect for the best man, the groom, or his wedding.

Here’s another one:

Hi guys,
ok, i just found out that my mom is floying in on friday the day before we
go. So, unfortunately that means i can’t go. sorry. I’m sure you guys will
still have a good time.

later

-Jeff Marois

They call this guy Frenchie, so he has an excuse for being so lame. But if I had planned on a once-in-my-friend’s-lifetime bachelor party, I’d know damn well when to tell my mom when not to fly in, no matter where the hell she was flying in from.

If my friends ever gyp me like this, I’ll slit their goddamn throats. You people reading me out there? Watch out!

That last post got me thinking….

I’m actually anxious to find a job, not only because having money would be a good thing, but because I’m pretty sure I could work circles around most people. Everywhere I turn I see incompetents doing just fine. They aren’t doing great, which is some consolation, but they should in all fairness be rotting in the gutters. People like Nina and the lady who made that dirt dessert and was all proud because she served it in real planters. Only would a place like Aramark hire a lady who serves food in clay pots and thinks Lethal Weapon 4 was the greatest movie of that year but “didn’t really understand it”.

Aramark was such a waste of my time, except for the fact that I got this cool “wave of the future” poster. I’m really afraid of having a job turn out to be another co-op situation, where everyone doesn’t seem to do a whole lot and everyone thinks this is okay. I’d end up feeling stuck in the job for the paycheck, so I want to make sure my first job is butter.

Which brings me to my dad. He’s the real hands-on type; he likes to make sure that everyone he knows is doing okay. Normally I’d insist on getting a job myself, but damn is it hard; I’m starting to wear down a bit but I’m still afraid of the meddling that is bound to occur. Sometimes I just want to melt into the cracks and not have to deal with anyone I know for a short time and working at a job that my dad gets me would make that impossible.

My sister was dating a guy from her company, a guy who happened to be engaged to some other chick (they had gotten a house together actually), and my dad called the dude up and told him to stop it. Stuff like that makes me really afraid of working anywhere with a phone line, let alone a place with a phone line and a boss who knows Robert W. Rudderow, Jr.

My other sister just up and left work one day and drove home to Maryland and once again word spread quickly. I’m not sure if that had anything to do with bosses and fathers but I’m sure the inroads didn’t help. It may have helped her keep her job, but that shouldn’t be the case either. I’d start writing about how my sister shouldn’t have a job since she has no skills or experience and a poor performance record, but she already quit. I’ll have to check and see what her plans are some time. I know her short-term plans involved camping of some sort, but I didn’t give her my camping gear after she left a message on my answering machine so rude and vulgar I won’t even repeat it here. I will paste my response, however:

Don’t you ever swear on my answering machine again you little brat. Those of us who do things other than smoke a joint after our busy days aren’t usually found loafing around the house. So if you want to contact me, especially to borrow my stuff, here’s what you do:

1. Wash your mouth out and practice forming a sentence without vulgarity
2. Get off the couch, brush off the crumbs, and open a window to get rid of all the pot smoke.
3. Run your butt to the library and use a computer there to send me an apologetic e-mail.

I know that since you’re a really slow typist you can’t send one at work, but that’s okay. At the library you’ll have all the time you need to work your thoughts into a letter.

Have a nice day,
Bob

At the time I didn’t even realize that they have internet access from home, which means there was even less of an excuse for her to call rather than e-mail her response. If I had, I would have been even angrier.

Since I can’t top that story right now, I’m done for tonight.

Of course I’m not referring to my job with that headline. I don’t have one.

I’m referring to my fingernails, which are really short right now. I just realized how much work I have to do and how little time I’ll have since I will be burying my drunk head between pairs of breasts. After all, this weekend is my friend Steve’s bachelor party.

The plan is to drive up to Boston on Friday morning and chill out there that night with Alex. Saturday morning it’s off to Montreal (five hour drive) for a night of debauchery with Steve, Alex, and two of Steve’s college friends Jeff and Vish. Since I’m generally pretty bad about starting my homework early, I’ll be wasting my Thursday night instead of working on my marketing presentation and the slides for my management presentation. Instead, I’ll do them on Sunday when I’m weary from eleven straight hours in the car — at least four of which will be while hung over. My laziness knows no bounds, evidenced by the fact that I’m writing this instead of studying for my business law midterm tomorrow at 10 a.m.

I’m not in any pain, but I’m turning into a smurf. I’m luckier that Dia, who has four separate rashes on her back, but I’m still annoyed. Whatever Avon make-up Ivy Labs is testing on my shoulder is turning me blue. I should be grateful that it’s confined to the area the size of a quarter, but it’s still not smurfy.

“There is an unspoken message here Walter, and it’s that you’re an asshole!”

This quote applies to nothing particular in this post other than it applies to everything everywhere. Deep, huh?

Today is shaping up to be a pretty crappy day. I left The Triangle at 12:30 (which is pretty hard for me to do) so I could get some sleep. Instead, I posted the superhero story, got on the Star Wars roller coaster, then my wicked toothache kicked in.

This toothache is awful. The feeling on the right side of my mouth fluctuates between bleeding and burning. When I’m absolutely positive that my face is rotting away, I put my fingers in my mouth to feel around and I just end up tasting my dirty fingers, which is almost as bad. What’s worse is when I numb the right side of my mouth with ice, the cavities on the left side become that much more evident and a whole new kind of pain sets in. I’m in so much damn pain that I just want my mommy.

It hurts the most when I go to sleep for some reason. Not necessarily when I put my head down, like a pressure problem or something, but even if I’m sitting in bed watching television or typing. Not cool. It started three nights ago, and some ice worked for the first two. Last night though, man was I in pain. Ice didn’t work this time, nor did Advil. So instead of getting a rare full night’s rest on a Thursday, I had the pleasure of not going to sleep at all, gorging myself on brownies (forgive me diet gods), and getting 30 minutes of rest in my arm chair. The only sleep I’ve gotten in the last 24 hours is 45 minutes in the back seat of my van while Dia was in an interview for 2.5 hours. Again, not cool.

Why tonight, of all nights? I’m going out to dinner with the old school crew tonight, and I got some crazy-ass message on my answering machine from Ross, who sounds drunk (big surprise there), stating several times that I should get him a Spider-Man ticket tonight. So, it looks like a midnight run to the movie theater might be in order as well. All with this damn toothache….

Lastly, that jerk Matt O’Connell didn’t send me his damn pictures like he promised he would. We now have only 5 days to get our Amazing Race applications in. On top of that, Matt doesn’t have a damn passport, so I have to doctor a photocopy of mine for now. How many times do I have to say it? “Not cool!”

So there is a second unspoken message here, and it’s that the earlier quote applies to this post after all. Matt O’Connell is an asshole.

I don’t even want to get started on how disappointed I am that I can’t see the preview screening for Star Wars, so I’ll post this discussion I just had with Geof*. I think it sums it up pretty well. Nathan, I love you man, I just think you’re not the guy to review Star Wars.

geof (01:46:13 AM): what’s doing Bob
geof (01:46:21 AM): what are you telling me through Yoni now
geof (01:46:27 AM): and Nathan and I are seeing Star Wars
me (01:46:28 AM): star wars!!
me (01:46:31 AM): what?!!!
geof (01:46:35 AM): Yeah, we’re on it
geof (01:46:39 AM): Nathan called it long ago
me (01:46:42 AM): when was the list send out??
geof (01:46:54 AM): Today some time
geof (01:47:08 AM): but we knew about that at least as early as last week
me (01:46:51 AM): nathan calls EVERYTHING.
me (01:46:59 AM): why does he always get to see them?
geof (01:47:12 AM): Why what else
geof (01:47:14 AM): Spider-man
geof (01:47:19 AM): that didn’t even come out
me (01:47:29 AM): if nathan wants to see a movie, he always gets to see it.
me (01:47:34 AM): there’s never any discussion.
me (01:47:37 AM): dammit.
me (01:47:50 AM): remember pearl harbor?
me (01:47:55 AM): and crocodile dundee?
geof (01:47:56 AM): Yeah, man, we’ve got the whole concept already
geof (01:48:06 AM): I’m going to write the disillusioned guy perspective on SW
geof (01:48:15 AM): and he’s going to be the hopeful happy guy who sees SW
me (01:48:24 AM): jesus christ, PLEASE don’t let nathan write a review of starwars.
me (01:48:29 AM): for the love of god.
geof (01:48:58 AM): I’ll balance it out
geof (01:49:01 AM): see that’s the point
geof (01:49:03 AM): he’s the wacko
geof (01:49:05 AM): optimist
geof (01:49:09 AM): I’m the realist
geof (01:49:14 AM): who realizes the movies for children
me (01:49:13 AM): when has nathan ever been turned down for a movie he wanted to see?
me (01:49:30 AM): never. he always gets his way? why is that?
geof (01:49:35 AM): You didn’t even want to see Crocodile Dundee
geof (01:49:27 AM): I don’t know. You seem awful bitter about this
me (01:49:39 AM): becuase i never get to see the good movies.
geof (01:49:47 AM): why don’t you call them?
geof (01:49:51 AM): The early bird gets the word
geof (01:49:55 AM): -> worm
me (01:49:56 AM): and nathan the shitty-critic always gets to.
me (01:50:03 AM): or the idiot who watches his email all day.
me (01:50:17 AM): that’s who get the worm, the email watcher.
geof (01:50:12 AM): what movies have you missed
geof (01:50:15 AM): I don’t see the history here
geof (01:50:19 AM): Pearl Harbor….
me (01:50:32 AM): he would have seen spiderman, no?
me (01:50:41 AM): why? becuse he “likes comics”.
me (01:50:45 AM): he’s always got some reason.
geof (01:50:53 AM): yeah but he didn’t so try to use valid points
me (01:50:54 AM): i’ll come up with a list.
me (01:51:06 AM): believe me, there’s one.
me (01:51:12 AM): here’s another:
me (01:51:17 AM): time machine.
geof (01:51:25 AM): you wanted to see time machine?
geof (01:51:32 AM): chris and lisa saw TM before it came out
me (01:51:32 AM): mr. “i’ve seen teh original movie, so i get to review it”
geof (01:51:34 AM): quick lying
geof (01:51:40 AM): quit lying
me (01:51:45 AM): yeah, and nathan got to write the review.
me (01:51:52 AM): again, because he “saw the original”
me (01:52:02 AM): and he gave it 4 triangels!
geof (01:52:05 AM): you would’ve rather had Lisa write the review?
me (01:52:12 AM): no! me!
geof (01:52:14 AM): Nathan likes shitty movies, I can’t argue with that
geof (01:52:17 AM): Did you see TM?
me (01:52:20 AM): yes!
geof (01:52:27 AM): why didn’t you write the review?
me (01:52:36 AM): but i hate fighting nathan for the writing rights.
me (01:52:52 AM): let him see the movie, but please god don’t let him write the review.
geof (01:52:59 AM): no he’s going to write one review
geof (01:53:04 AM): I’m going to write another
geof (01:53:08 AM): it’ll balance out
me (01:53:08 AM): fools.
me (01:53:11 AM): both of you.
me (01:53:19 AM): it doesn’t take two people to write reviewsw.
geof (01:53:39 AM): this’ll be a point-counterpoint thing
geof (01:53:42 AM): it’ll be sweet
me (01:53:47 AM): no. it won’t.
geof (01:53:48 AM): I’ll talk about how disenfranchised I am
geof (01:53:55 AM): he’ll talk about how he’s optimistic
me (01:54:04 AM): go work on the paper.
me (01:54:22 AM): nathan is a male [name deleted].
me (01:54:26 AM): remember that.
geof (01:55:03 AM): that was low Bob
geof (01:55:05 AM): and incorrect
me (01:55:30 AM): no, i’ll show you proof tomorrow.
geof (01:55:50 AM): proof?
geof (01:55:59 AM): you need a different project to be passionate about
geof (01:56:01 AM): this is unhealthy
me (01:56:08 AM): i’m going to dig out every review that nathan has written.
me (01:56:36 AM): pearl harbor: “i can’t really review this movie since i wasn’t alive during the actual bombing”
me (01:56:38 AM): come on!
geof (01:56:57 AM): Yeah, that was an odd stance to take, it’s true
me (01:57:10 AM): there’s a pattern in the chaos.
me (01:57:13 AM): his chaos.
me (01:57:26 AM): and now it’ll be applied to starwars as well.
me (01:57:33 AM): all because he checks his mail every minute.
me (01:57:45 AM): and the better writers get left in the cold.
me (01:57:53 AM): cold!
geof (01:58:25 AM): When you say the better writers you mean you…
me (01:58:34 AM): sure.
me (01:58:56 AM): i wanted to review starwars. at least i’m going in fresh.
me (01:59:06 AM): you gys already wrote yours
geof (01:58:53 AM): you are one bitter dude BOb
me (01:59:26 AM): anyway, off to bed.
geof (02:00:18 AM): alright Bob, sane up
me (02:00:50 AM): grr

Now, I’m going to have to present a list to back some of these statements up. My current thesis is “Nathan has a lame excuse for reviewing movies he wants to review, and when he does review them he says some pretty odd things.” I’ll go over the bullet points I have so far:

Time Machine: “I get to review it because I saw/have the original Time Machine.” (Hasn’t everyone?)
Spider-Man: “I like comics.” (Even though we never got a screening for this one, do we doubt he would have been the guy?)
Pearl Harbor: “I can’t really review this film since I wasn’t actually alive during the Pearl Harbor attack.” (Zuh?!)
Time Machine: Directors’ names incorrectly taken directly from imdb.com rather than the movie credits or a press kit.
Crocodile Dundee: “It’s just a fun movie that you can enjoy.” (No.)

Geof also has some pretty crappy reviews: See Spot Run, Point Break, and others which I will look up at a later time.

If anyone else has proof of erroneous reviewing, please let me know so I can put together a strong case for reviewing Star Wars. Your evidence can be e-mailed to me. May the force be with me.

* (I’ve only moved a few lines around when clarity was an issue. Train of thought reads poorly in printed online conversations. The time stamps are still there in case you want to read the conversation as it was originally intended.)

Once upon a time, an incident where I was followed by a driver for spitting on her car would have been stop-the-presses postworthy. Now I almost forget about these things; I guess it’s still worth a mention though. Walking to Ivy Labs after my Professional Sales midterm, reading a book (Equus, a play by Peter Shafer) yet minding where I step, I eventually approached 34th and Market Streets from the northeast corner.

No sooner does the light turn red and I step into the street does some tiny black car with a large black woman (her race comes into play shortly) almost hit me. In the split second I had when she jerked around me, I spit smack dab on her windshield and sent some spittle right inside her open window.

For those of you who don’t already know this, I’m a superhero. (I was upgraded from mere vigilante when I discovered I could see behind me using the reflection in my glasses. My super-power has nothing to do with this story, it just goes towards meeting requirements that place me above your average crazy person. I’m crazy, yes, but not average at it.) Anyway, back to my role as a superhero… Ever vigilant in my fight against reckless drivers, I always make sure that if someone runs a red light or fails to yield to pedestrians then they’ll at least have something to think about while cleaning off their cars. When I don’t have my can of super string with me, I use phlegm. This time a fellow pedestrian chided me for my actions as I finished crossing the street, but since this lady thought the “bitch” I shouted after the driver was directed at her, it all worked out. Since these occurences aren’t exactly rare for me, I continued on and up to my appointment.

Three minutes later, I descend the stairs to see the woman talking to the building security guard. I look up from my book just as she asks me if I’m the person who spit on her car.

“Are you the lady that almost hit me?” I asked in return.

“I went around you. Don’t ever spit on my car,” she said.

“Well, don’t run red lights,” I replied.

I think it would have gone on further, but I’m getting pretty good at avoiding repetitive discussions when I’m not obligated to respond to someone. I told her I didn’t have to listen to her, and that I was going.

She started talking at me some more, so I turned around and shouted, “Shut up, cow.” Needless to write, she didn’t like this. She then invited me to “come over here and I’ll whoop your ass.”

“Like you could take me, you cow,” I replied.

Standing in the middle of the road, vaguely mindful of the changing lights, I started screaming “MMMOOOOOOOOOO” until I crossed the road. I think she was pretty mad at this point, since she called me a racist. I just shouted back that calling someone a cow isn’t racist, and went on my way.

I was pretty tired from all the shouting, hot as it was. I could hardly concentrate on my book, so I feigned reading for most of the next block and replayed the events in my head. Next time I think I can do even better.

Once upon a time Lisa would have us believe that she did something important at work. After all, she has these fancy-pants, dry-clean only clothes lying around her apartment. Then I notice that she posts more to her blog in one day than anyone else I know posts in a week, and that’s including that maniac Chris Puzak. It’s probably a good thing that her more offensive, less fact-based posts be buried at the bottom, but I can’t help but think she could focus her energy on moving up the ranks at that rinky-dink law firm where she works. I mean, come one, if Chris isn’t going to bring home the bacon, at least Lisa can give it a try.

There’s also a larger issue here, and that is how open we all claim to be. Are these really our most intimate thoughts? Would half these things be written down in a journal, or are we only writing them because there’s an audience? Maybe it’s just me who claimed to be merely writing a journal that happens to be on the web, since Chris is clearly reviewing books and movies in his blog. And should Lisa be discussing her Triangle opinions online? Do I have the power to stop her? Convince her to post otherwise? Get into her pants? Erase what I just wrote?

Too many questions…

There’s an old lady who lives by herself in her house on Summer Street. Every morning, I wake up to the sound of her voice. More often than not, that voice is swearing up a storm. Forget all notions of how sweet and gentile people get in their old age; this lady is senile, and judging by her delusional rants she’s a bitter, cruel woman who deserves to spend the remainder of her years stuck in Powelton Village. I just wish it wasn’t so close to my bedroom window. This wish of mine has a sister notion: that someone would come along and chop the old bird in half and drag her carcass into the horizon.

By comparison, consider the tree outside my other window. It doesn’t talk much except for the rustling leaves, and when they rustle their chatter provides a nice balance to the train whistles and car alarms. It has yet to offend me, since it’s usually not swearing to itself at 8 a.m. every day.

The merits of this tree can be applied to all others, including one of the oldest, most magnificent oak trees on campus. I should probably switch the past tense here, as it is already too late — in razing the ground for Drexel’s 32nd Street “park,” the construction crew went ahead and slaughtered it.

Before you call me callous for comparing the life of human nuisance to that of a tree, think about it. Both have withstood the test of time, but one provided years of enjoyment in the form of beauty and shade to decades’ worth of students and the other is withering away less than gracefully. Even if the latter doesn’t die for another 20 years, there should no question about the former’s right to live.

I’m no raving environmentalist, not by a long shot. I recycle at the office only because it’s convenient, but not at home when it doesn’t seem to be worth the effort. I don’t litter and I try to limit my waste, but I don’t participate in any community-wide clean-ups or anything like that. What I do have is a healthy appreciation for the little green space I see in an expanding city.

On that note, shouldn’t it be someones job to look out for the trees? I can’t help but think that the effort that went into planning the campus’s Earth Day festivities April 19 in the Quad would have better spent effecting actual change rather than inviting a few windbags on campus to merely talk about it. It’s ironic that Greens IDEA — the campus group allegedly concerned about the environment — invited environmental speakers to hold their discussions on a giant slab of concrete with the massacre of trees as a backdrop.

We all have our roles in life and, to a lesser extent, on campus. There are those who schedule entertainment for their fellow students, those who look out for their classmates’ rights as students, and those who prefer subjects as specific as promoting Japanese anime. How well we perform in the roles we have chosen, now there’s the rub. I know that the Anime and Gaming Organization screens movies twice a week; its what they have chosen to do and they do it well. Similarly, CAB and USGA hold events throughout the year, not for the sake of holding events but in attempts to entertain or influence policy changes. I don’t see the same from Greens IDEA. Like so many other student organizations, it rears its head once a year and then it goes back underground. Its money — our money — sits idle, the office space goes unused, and its members, while thinking globally, do very little to act locally.

It’s not their fault that a source of beauty was eliminated on campus, but I’ll pick on them since they certainly didn’t help at all. Would I have strapped myself to the tree if I was there in time? Probably not, but that’s why we have organizations like Greens IDEA. It’s members chose the task of protecting the environment presubaly because its something they’re passsionate about, but this time they really dropped the ball. They should have insisted on being a part of Drexel’s largest greening project in over 20 years, and as self-appointed protectors of the environment, they should have made it their business to ensure that no trees were harmed in the making of a home for new ones.

Simply planting a few replacement trees, or even dozens of replacement trees, will do little to replace the blight on this campus. Acres of grass mean nothing when I can’t escape a surprise drizzle or the relentless sun. In the coming decade, when it takes days for the 32nd Street swamp to dry out before people can sit there again, everyone will be missing the old oak tree just as much as I do.

In the future, Greens IDEA should actively help its immediate environment rather than simply talking about it. Otherwise, its Earth Day celebrations are nothing more than silly propaganda and its members are only taking up space. And if that’s the case, you know what that means — time to be cut in half.