I've come to the great realization that I should look at my syllabi more often. Not that I'm terribly behind (that I know of) but it just helps. For example, I'm sitting here in language lab with an oral project overdue and another German blog to write, and yet I'm writing this one instead. This stems from my over-ability to let most things like class work and women's subtile hints to pass me by without notice, much in the same brilliant way that Sherlock Holmes doesn't not (suck it grammar!) notice.
However, despite my general lack of my surroundings that I either don't care for or that come from other humans there is one thing I have noticed. This is a language LAB, yet there are no real things in here to suggest Lab-like qualities. In one way, this place is not an overly happy place always looking to please you, constantly interrupting your serious moments, and needing to be walked every day at 5 in the damn morning. On there other hand, there are no Bunsen Burner's or Schematics. I think it we made this place look a little more lab-ish it might enhance its appeal to a staggering tolerable.
We might want to consider having the workers dress up in lab coats and carry clipboards for starters. Then, after we've found some insanely, highly illogical, but awesome reason to justify that, we can upgrade our lab. We can get a whole array of glass containers and fill them with liquids of different colors that will explode or create poison gas when you mix them. That'll make this place a hazardous work environment and all the more fun because danger = fun.
We're going to make an awesome lab, not a lame one, so logically we won't include anything that normally comes in a lab that doesn't have the ability to explode, create poison gas, cut, boil over, bludgeon, or do any other kind of harmful thing. Plastic eye glasses? Not in the budget. Trinitrotoluene? You bet. Safety gloves? Who needs 'em? Arsenic. Yes please.
Anyway, those are just some ideas for an awesome lab. Right now I'm stuck with computers and people who don't understand the concept of "gain" on a microphone. None of this is helping the fact that today is in fact Mardi Gras and I'm somehow NOT on the road to New Orleans for the night. Lame. As. Shit. There's no party like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and now that the Saints have won the Super Bowl, I can't even imagine. Yet as fate would have it, here I am, in deep East Texas, in a computer lab, attempting to put off my German until sometime later.
Allow me to give you some insight as to how Texans celebrate Mardi Gras, and how they've bastardized an otherwise great holiday. I've been to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. It was the single greatest parade and party I've ever been to, and I didn't even hit up the French Quarter which is where everyone gets the stereotypical girls gone wild Mardi Gras images. However, if I wanted to, I could have just walked on over to it and joined in. I later, much later, went to Mardi Gras in Galveston, Texas. Much like the Mardi Gras in New Orleans people tended to separate themselves based on if they wanted to have the "Family Friendly" Mardi Gras or the "Party Hearty" Mardi Gras. The only, immensely detestable, horridly shocking, completely insulting difference was that in order for my crew and I to get into the "party" we had to pay $20 to go through a gate. What is that? Oh how I longed for home. Texas likes to brag about how it does everything bigger and better, well not this time Texas. You royally screwed up on this one. If you ever plan on going to Mardi Gras, leave whatever state you're in and fly, drive, hitchhike, or walk your ass to Louisiana and get a real taste of Mardi Gras.
This all didn't stop me from celebrating the great tradition of Mardi Gras though. Had an awesome party this weekend to commemorate Mardi Gras this year. My folks came up and helped boil crawfish and my friends and I had a great big feast followed by a party at my place filled with beads, king cake, and music. It was a far cry from the real thing, but we all enjoyed it immensely.
In sports, Eintracht Frankfurt won this weekend in a 2-1 victory over SC Freiburg. That puts us at 7th with 34 points on the table and a goal differential of zero. Let's keep it up Eagles!
Bon Mardi Gras.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Who 'Dat?
Well it's finally happened. After 40+ years of waiting the city of New Orleans finally has a Super Bowl Champion team. What a game. Of course this happened last Sunday, since then I haven't found the words to express my joy. I still haven't found those words but I figured it was time to write. It was a healthy 31-17 victory over the Colts and Peyton Manning, who consequently threw the pick that screwed his team over. So to all of that I have only one thing to say... Who 'Dat sey dey gonna beat dem Saints? Who 'Dat? Who 'Dat?
Monday, February 1, 2010
A Walking Biological Weapon
Well, not really. But, I do have Staph Infection. Fun. First one.
It started out just looking like a bite from perhaps a spider or some other creature bent on it's own annoying survival around last Tuesday. It progressed much like a normal bite would, it became a bump with a small red circle around it, then a large bump with a large red circle around it (I was beginning to see a pattern). Thursday night, having no idea what this damn thing was, I decided it might be a good idea to go to the ER, as pain was beginning to resonate from the area every time I moved my hand or a sleeve over it. So the journey began.
It was about an hour wait in the ER before I was called back (I wasn't expecting a record time in treatment). There I was on a bed for about another thirty minutes. The doctor came, left, and then after about another forty minutes a nurse came and gave me medicine and said I was good to go. In total, excluding my friends who escorted me there out of boredom, I probably talked to another human for a total of four minutes.
I got back to my place around 3:30 am. Fatigued for class the next day? That's a yes. I made use of the time I had by sleeping in, which is something that doctors need to prescribe more often. To celebrate my little odd looking infection on my arm, I went that night to go see Zombieland with some friends at the dollar theater on campus, as it was only appropriate to watch a zombie movie with a zombie-ish looking infection. After that it was once again time to pass out, to which I promptly did.
Saturday consisted of prepping for a party at my place to celebrate the Saints actually having won a Championship game in ever. Andrew and I went out all day getting supplies like food, alcohol, and even commandeered our friends Rock Band 1&2 plus The Beatles Rock band. The stage was set, an awesome party was about to ensue. And then it didn't. Most people who said they would show up, did not. Their excuses? My friend came into town (ok, I can see that, somewhat), I feel asleep (ok now we're pushing the understanding here), and I'm depressed (really? really?). Parties are great to go to if you're depressed, they let you vent some steam, and focus your mind on things that aren't depressing, like partying!
Putting aside having food for 40 people and only getting, at one time, seven, and only eight in total showing up, the party didn't completely crash. Most of the time was spent playing Rock Band and its sequels. Then a quick listen to the comedian Dan Cummins (look him up) and a game of kings. Kings is a drinking game, I was on meds, bad decisions were made. I didn't drink alot, I only had two mixers, so I figured the effects would be light a generally looked over.
When the party ended Andrew and I bounced to a party at Kris's where I played Beer Dodgeball (upon request I will make a blog of the rules), also a drinking game. I downed two beers there. My mixers were fairly close together with about an hour and a half break to the two beers which were equally close. Over time I drank that much in a total of about 6 hours.
That night, nobody was ready for it. I got home feeling fine enough, in fact so fine I didn't even feel buzzed. But deep within my intestines and other insides that do stuff for my survival, a storm was brewing. I had to take more meds before going to bed so I did. I wasn't able to sleep at all. Over the course of the night, I threw up six times, my lower back began to hurt like it does when you get sick, and I received a slight sinus headache. At best I was able to rest for 2 hours. Sunday was spent not eating (probably the most horrid tragedy of this story yet), going back to the ER to confirm my infection as Staph and not a whack ass spider bite, and sleeping. NyQuil helped me get some rest and cover my back aches and high temperature.
All of this still does not explain my urge to jump at people and rub my arm on them (where the staph infection is), or the desire to freak out my hypochondriac roommate. I keep telling him its the Anthrax, not the Staph, he needs to worry about.
On one last note, I'm not sure if its the meds or because my imagination is awesome, but I've been experiencing some whack ass dreams.
It started out just looking like a bite from perhaps a spider or some other creature bent on it's own annoying survival around last Tuesday. It progressed much like a normal bite would, it became a bump with a small red circle around it, then a large bump with a large red circle around it (I was beginning to see a pattern). Thursday night, having no idea what this damn thing was, I decided it might be a good idea to go to the ER, as pain was beginning to resonate from the area every time I moved my hand or a sleeve over it. So the journey began.
It was about an hour wait in the ER before I was called back (I wasn't expecting a record time in treatment). There I was on a bed for about another thirty minutes. The doctor came, left, and then after about another forty minutes a nurse came and gave me medicine and said I was good to go. In total, excluding my friends who escorted me there out of boredom, I probably talked to another human for a total of four minutes.
I got back to my place around 3:30 am. Fatigued for class the next day? That's a yes. I made use of the time I had by sleeping in, which is something that doctors need to prescribe more often. To celebrate my little odd looking infection on my arm, I went that night to go see Zombieland with some friends at the dollar theater on campus, as it was only appropriate to watch a zombie movie with a zombie-ish looking infection. After that it was once again time to pass out, to which I promptly did.
Saturday consisted of prepping for a party at my place to celebrate the Saints actually having won a Championship game in ever. Andrew and I went out all day getting supplies like food, alcohol, and even commandeered our friends Rock Band 1&2 plus The Beatles Rock band. The stage was set, an awesome party was about to ensue. And then it didn't. Most people who said they would show up, did not. Their excuses? My friend came into town (ok, I can see that, somewhat), I feel asleep (ok now we're pushing the understanding here), and I'm depressed (really? really?). Parties are great to go to if you're depressed, they let you vent some steam, and focus your mind on things that aren't depressing, like partying!
Putting aside having food for 40 people and only getting, at one time, seven, and only eight in total showing up, the party didn't completely crash. Most of the time was spent playing Rock Band and its sequels. Then a quick listen to the comedian Dan Cummins (look him up) and a game of kings. Kings is a drinking game, I was on meds, bad decisions were made. I didn't drink alot, I only had two mixers, so I figured the effects would be light a generally looked over.
When the party ended Andrew and I bounced to a party at Kris's where I played Beer Dodgeball (upon request I will make a blog of the rules), also a drinking game. I downed two beers there. My mixers were fairly close together with about an hour and a half break to the two beers which were equally close. Over time I drank that much in a total of about 6 hours.
That night, nobody was ready for it. I got home feeling fine enough, in fact so fine I didn't even feel buzzed. But deep within my intestines and other insides that do stuff for my survival, a storm was brewing. I had to take more meds before going to bed so I did. I wasn't able to sleep at all. Over the course of the night, I threw up six times, my lower back began to hurt like it does when you get sick, and I received a slight sinus headache. At best I was able to rest for 2 hours. Sunday was spent not eating (probably the most horrid tragedy of this story yet), going back to the ER to confirm my infection as Staph and not a whack ass spider bite, and sleeping. NyQuil helped me get some rest and cover my back aches and high temperature.
All of this still does not explain my urge to jump at people and rub my arm on them (where the staph infection is), or the desire to freak out my hypochondriac roommate. I keep telling him its the Anthrax, not the Staph, he needs to worry about.
On one last note, I'm not sure if its the meds or because my imagination is awesome, but I've been experiencing some whack ass dreams.
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