State Of Our Union, Or President Bush: Retard or Asshole?

I assume that everyone watched the State of the Union to listen to all the new ideas that President Bush wished to spoon feed us like regurgitation from a mother Dodo bird. I wish that our president was narcoleptic. That might be the only thing that could get me to watch him for more then two minutes at a time; it would turn misery into comedy. I am not going to get into the Iraq policy because I have no idea how that is going down (in flames). I want to discuss his plans for energy. He is pushing for hydrogen, coal and ethanol, instead of wind, thermal and solar. Where do I begin...

"We need to press on with battery research for plug-in and hybrid vehicles"
Apparently the president envisions a time when people will be able to plug in their cars in their garages. This makes me think that he did not see the excellent documentary Who Killed the Electric Car?, otherwise he would know that this already exists!!!

We are also told by scientists that hydrogen cells are at least 15 years away. Which leads us to the next winner: ethanol. One could argue that Brazil uses sugar cane for 40% of their vehicle fuel. Too bad corn is a shitty substitute as a bio fuel that only breaks even between energy used and energy produced. See Scientific American Jan 2007 p.42.

What is there to even say about coal? I will let you guys figure that one out. This leaves me to belive that our President's alternative energy policy is designed to fail. He is either unaware of this (retard) or in the pocket of the Oil and Car industries (asshole). Actually, I put my money on him being a retard and an asshole, and that is that.

Dat's de Way it Goes When Jour a Huggalos

When things come out the wrong way-Part One

So this morning I vomited for the third time in a year and a half. And this was a good vomit too. I kept throwing up until there was nothing left to throw up. I was at the end of a Sunday morning swim workout. Three or four vomits. I made it to the men's bathroom, but not quite the toilet. Pretty much all water or clear liquid. Either pool water or water from my water bottle, which was pretty nasty. I just told the lifeguard it was really went in the men's bathroom. I didn't eat anything this morning, so that might have had something to do with it, but then I would have had some solids to throw up. Throwing up isn't so bad if it's all liquid.

I don't throw up often. I've only thrown up once because of alcohol and don't remember that. That was the only time I've blacked out because of alcohol. I'm not like a certain cousin that grew up in San Fran and ate a bunch of spicy ethnic food. I've got a strong stomach, eat bland food and pretty much can remember every time I threw up since being ten. I used to hate throwing up, feeling like I might die. Does anyone ever die of throwing up? I love telling people my throw up stories. So here goes. (This is the first of a four part series)

Memory One: Driving up to Tahoe, something I did numerous times as a kid. We stopped at Burger King, my or maybe my dad's favorite fast food place on the way up to Tahoe. I got the chicken tenders. Went to sleep. We got up to the new house, at King's Beach. At this point my family was still leasing a cabin for the winter. We now own one at the lovely Alpine Meadows. As soon as we entered the cabin, a just heaved and deposited a bunch of chewed up chicken tenders on the beige carpeting. No self control. no even trying to get to the toilet, just stopped and vomited. I went on many other ski trips. This was my first memory of vomiting. There was even the notorious Red Dog Lodge at Bear Valley. But I don't really remember that story. J?

Editor's Note: Jeff and his family avoided Burger King for a few years. Opting instead for the safer confides of Wendy's and Carl's Jr. In fact Jeff's favorite burger became the Western Bacon Cheeseburger at Carl's Jr with onion rings and BBQ sauce. It was seven years later (est.) as a teenager before Jeff had the courage to try the chicken tenders again. He forgot how good they tasted. But the memory still lingers and it is tough for him to order them. (Especially since BK has such tasty burgers.)

I got nothing better to do

Ever crash a dinner party? me neither. but I came close tonight.

A little background: Last night I went to a shabbat dinner. The hardest part about a shabbat dinner for me is where to sit. Ideally, you sit next to the really hot chick, that's not the rabbi's daughter (she's really cute, but I don't have the guts to do that). I guess I haven't mastered that part of the dinner. because while everyone is jocking for a hot girl, I usually wind up at the corner table with a bunch of guys too chicken to go for the girls. These guys that I sat next to reminded me of my brother's smart friends in high school, really smart, but not necessarily a hit with the ladies (what do I really know, though?). They were just happy to be with each other. I was there because when we stopped moving the chairs, I was left at this table. In fact there were two empty seats at the table, one to the left of me and one to the right of me. The women there obviously don't have the same ideal sitting strategy as I do. Things have a way of working out sometimes.

A guy that reminded me of a friend from high school sits next to me, pretty WASPy looking for a jewish event. Light brown or blonde hair, strong facial structure (whatever that means.) Very endearing smile. average height. we hit it off, both liberal, both former students at GW, with a small connection of western Massachusetts. We talk politics and it turns out he's headed to Cambodia for the Peace Corps. He invites me to his dinner party which was tonight. so I'm thinking I don't have other plans. There are so many times I've met someone once, and didn't follow it up, usually this involves hanging out with a random guy. I guess it's just kinda weird, awkward. This time, I'll give it a shot. which is how I got invited to a dinner party from a guy I met the previous night.

Going to a party knowing only one person. and going solo. I've found I do better mixing solo than otherwise, no one to fall on, but no one to hold you back either. forces you to mix. but then there is no wingman. no one to voucher that you're not a child molester or worse. so i went with a six-pack of delicious Sam Adams to my friends former house and was the last guest to leave. I was having a good time. I guess I could have left earlier, but I had nothing better to do and was having a good time. I briefly talked with a girl that was from Kenya. I met a guy and a girl that went to Earlham and knew of Cousin B. Had some good sports discussions ultimate frisbee and football with the guy BE. Befriended a pretty cute girl that went to Wooster. It went surprisingly well. A new friend? we'll see. a good night definitely.

So I am gearing up for job applications, finishing up reading some books and getting ready for J's wedding. in response to last week's post about blowing it with a nice girl. I pulled off something so pathetic even George Costanza wouldn't do it. I was talking to this really nice girl and she's flirts, " so you are not usually the dominant one in a relationship?" and I couldn't answer her. I guess dominance is something that I don't usually notice. but I guess she guess correctly. I'm not usually the dominant one in a relationship. ok. 50/50. I don't usually think of myself as a dominant male. I think I could be. I think I just try not to be anything. neither dominant or submissive. anyway, that breaks up the conversation.

I mope about it. having had two full drinks for the night, which is a lot for me and go back to her to say something about her comment, and she says she was just joking and all I could say was "do you think it's ok for a guy to cry? I think I'm going to cry." I have no idea why I felt that or said that. You should have seen her, she was really weirded out. Interested before, disinterested afterwards. she didn't want to give me her number, but she did anyways. called back to tell me she wasn't interested, was in a relationship. I can't figure out why? That (I think I'm going to Cry) was something one of the kids at Manice said at the closing campfire. Of course he said "just kidding" at the end of it.

I usually cry at movies, even bad ones like Coyote Ugly. But I never cry at a bar, over something a girl says. Maybe I really am not a dominant guy. I need to come to terms with that. (Hence the dejected dog)

Any dominatrix interested in a submissive male aged 30? you must have a steady source of income or be independently wealthy and have a stable place of residence (the second is really optional).

Daily Show on Iraq "surge"

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Coolest Internet Music Thing

Mrs. Captain showed me this site: Pandora is the coolest thing I've seen on the internet in a while. You prompt the program with artists or songs you like and it plays songs it thinks you might also like. You give thumbs up or down and it tailors a streaming music channel for you, and it beaks down what it thinks your musical tastes are. Very interesting...Except I don't understand the name; it should be called "alright".

Bad things

You know things didn't work out so bad for our friend George. He got a nice job with the Yankees. Things didn't work out so well with the ladies. But he had some good friends, I assume he had health insurance and wasn't living out on the streets.

Let's hope things don't work out so bad for me. In the past week, I've been kicked out of grad school, laid off from a job, and met and might have blew it with the girl of my dreams. Takes talent, I know, pulling the trifecta, most people can only hope to pull off two of those feats in the same month, let alone the same week.

A good friend from college once told me, when your girl comes you'll know it.

I don't even know why this girl is the one. Sure, there are a lot of girls that I imagine how'd they'd look with no clothes on and more importantly how'd they'd feel. But this is the first girl with whom I could really just see myself. say for dinner, for a long drive in the car and to be honest I could care less what she looks like nude. and I haven't talked to her for more than five minutes.

so of course, I'm not even on speaking terms with this girl at the moment. Instead of explaining to you how I was a complete dork and messed up with the rare girl, that strikes me as special, let's talk about my day.

I get to sleep in, and don't have to work at the school that wasn't working for me. I got to play some online poker. I went to see my therapist. He seems like a good guy, but I'm still getting warm to him. I brought $7.99 worth of change to my bank's change machine and said courteous salutions to the maybe overfriendly receptionist. I didn't buy new jeans. All my current jeans are hand me downs from my generous younger brother, and by now they all have holes in them. I didn't have time to buy new jeans, because I had to hurry to hit the swim pool before going to a networking meeting. The swimming went great, once I relieved myself.

I hate to mention bathroom stuff. no one ever talks about the bathroom, except in screwball comedies, Dumb and Dumber, comes to mind. sometimes I feel like I'm the only one that hasn't mastered the whole number two thing. I just can't always just push it out, sometimes, I guess you could say things get stuck, and I get stuck on the toilet. No matter how bad I have to go number two, I avoid using the restrooms on trains and airplanes. Unless I'm home, reading something and not in a hurry, I hate going number two. There is nothing worse than having the train reach your destination or the plane hitting turbulence and you're stuck on the john and not quite finished. You give one hard push and then put a piece of toilet paper, between your anus and your underwear. All the time berating yourself for not holding it in longer.

Once I got the stuff that needed to be outside of me, outside of me. I went home, ate the half a piece of delicious Chicago deep dish pizza from last night, printed out my resume ten times, then realizing I made a mistake and print it out ten times again and walked to the networking event. The event said 6-9, and I mistakenly thought, I could stop by any time. At 7:15 they were in a circle, and I took one look at the brochure, and thought I that my $20 was better spent on poker and beer. So I headed to SE for some poker with some Georgetown Alums. At least in the short term, my decision paid off. I walk away with $61 extra for the night. I could go into my poker secrets, but I think I'll keep them to myself.

So, no job, no degree, no girl. no jeans, no constipation, no networking event, two beers and $61 richer, not forgetting ten resumes with mistakes, ten more or less perfect resumes folded neatly in the pocket of my jacket. not a bad day to end a not so good week.

Sign Guy: The Local's Rice-a-Roni

My Dad called me the other day and told me to look up "Frank Chu" on wikipedia. There is a really long, intersting article about him. Who knew Sign Guy had such a rich story. There is even a short film about him.

Cinema Verite

From the Ranted Files of Dr. G,
brought to you at great cost...

SOMEWHERE ON THE BOLIVIAN-COLUMBIAN BORDER - For some people maturity comes gradually, after time, effort, mistakes and successes - like your entire college career or a long summer ("Dirty Dancing" for Jennifer Grey or "Ciderhouse Rules" for Spiderman). For some it is one big event and peoples’ lives are changed forever ("The Breakfast Club" or that movie about going from Detroit to Canada for one night, or “Deliverance”). Pick your favorite coming of age story and time it: less than a month (ideally a day or weekend) and you have a cataclysmic "event" story. More than that and you have a gradual coming of age story, more like real life.

Sometimes the event is positive, in which case it affirms your ability to be a star or at least maintain a level of self-confidence, supposedly for the rest of their life (“Coyote Ugly”). Notice the struggle of the star before the success. Isn't there always struggle before success?

And then sometimes a life changing event is a negative, where the protagonist learns a harsh lesson and realizes he or she has to change and can't take things for granted (“Stand By Me” falls into this category. Also “A Sweet November” and “Autumn in New York”,two movies I haven't seen and don't recommend)

Six years ago, while wasting away in the opium dens and whorehouses of Algiers, my life moved into the “negative event” category. Those who know me very, very well will know of the events to which I am referring. It was more Will Wheaton/River Pheonix than Maria Bello/Tyra Banks. And I didn’t get to sleep with Charlize Theron or even kiss Judd Nelson.Many people travel through the Near East, party hard, study a little and sleep very, very little. Substitute “be involved in extracurricular activities” for “party hard” and you have me. I only partied a little, but I was so busy, writing and editing the sports section of the underground, pro-independence broadsheet, cooking couscous, playing buskashi and tutoring vagrant war-orphans, that I didn't get enough rest. Big deal right? lots of people can do it. Not me. I couldn't handle it. my little study time was ineffective and I failed two courses in a year, dropped more. Barely passed a math class (Until I arrived at college, I never got less than an A in math). The worst was my failure with my newspaper. Up until that last issue (published, ironically, after the French capitulated), I had always had a partner in crime to help me finish the job. I had always succeeded (not on deadline, but at least very close). My brain shut down that week, not even a sentence, just complete exhaustion, giving up, nothing - staring at a computer screen, helpless.

Things were happening outside the newspaper office too, but I'm not sure what was in my mind and what really transpired. You see, I had a psychotic episode, hearing voices, not being able to sleep. I knew on Monday of that fateful week that I wasn't feeling well and happened to be seeing a nurse about my physical for camp that summer. I was hearing voices at this point (which I didn't tell her about, because I didn't know it wasn't real at this point: “Donni Darko”) and that I was having trouble sleeping, but she told me not to worry about it and just get some rest. I won't begin to describe how angry I am at her. unfortunately a lot of young people are not taken seriously when complaining to a doctor. And that was the best part of the week…

I don't think it is important that you know how the rest of the week went, but basically I was given a challenge (from whom? my genes? syphilis?) that I failed. Does that happen? The protagonist is given a coming of age challenge and he fails to become a man? Or is failure, and dealing with it, another way to become a man?

Six years later the answer still wavers. This weekend at Assateague Island, I felt like a youth, a little uncomfortable and unsure of myself socially. Then tonight I celebrated my housemates 30th birthday and the toxins I put in my system made me feel like a man. I realize that when I wake up tomorrow, I'm not exactly sure who'll show up. You see if I had to pick a movie to describe my life, I'd pick “Groundhog Day”. Except I'm still in the Second Act: trying to figure out how to build something of my life so that each day isn't the same, or is that the point of the movie: that all the days are basically the same?

The present that is right for everyone. Open one today.

New Years Sighting in Chicago. In case your memory needs a refresher Click Here.