Frontenac

     So I went to a Catholic wedding today, not to say that a Catholic wedding distinguishes it from any other wedding, aside from the fact that it's scientifically proven to be 3 times as long, and 3 times as boring. Just kidding. But really, it wasn't all Catholic weddings in general, it was just the priest in this one. He seemed to be so overcome with emotion for the bride and groom that he felt the need to pause every 3 seconds or so, only managing to pour out a meager 2 words or so between gasps of delight. It was difficult to sit/stand/kneel through, to say the least.
     The couple, however, was and is beautiful. They were some college friends of mine who decided to do the patriotic thing and get married, and now I realize just how much farther I am from even potentially landing a girlfriend. That's life for you. Those are the kind of things that you learn on the eve of the eve of your birthday.
     This past week has been a blur. I've applied for two jobs, which has taken most of my energy out of me. Yes, the applications only took about twenty minutes each (The hospital's had a few extra pages though, almost made me give up applying! This must be their weed-out strategy), and yes, I turned them in on Thursday, but it did indeed take time to work up the courage to fill out those applications, and go through the several calculations in my head about whether or not I should even venture into these establishments. That is the stuff that I was doing the other three days of the week. Tiring, I know.
     Friday was a fun day of driving. First through Wichita, then to Sedan, Kansas, where the mightiest blues     festival on the face of the earth is set to take place this weekend. Never heard of Sedan, Kansas? That's because it's so big, they didn't have room for it on the map, so they just left it off. Seriously, you should go. They even had a high school choir open up for the downtown block party. I told you this stuff was legendary.
     Now it's time to catch up with my college buddies through several trips to the hot tub, intertwined with several trips to the regular pool in an attempt to recreate hypothermia (just kidding). Have fun this weekend, my birthday is on Monday!

Reese's and Chemistry, That's it!

     I don't know if you know this about me, but there's two things I love:
  and .
Now, if we get these two bad boys in the same room together, expect a little "sharing of electrons" to take place, if you will. I also care much more dearly for that nice ol' chemistry book on the right than I ever could for Reese's. If you know me at all, you will know that that statement is 100% false. Reese's are the shit. Not actual excrement, because that would just be weird. Crap, I'm hungry now.
     I'm pulling what I like to call a "late-nighter" for Chemistry, which is turning out quite well so far. I've managed to accomplish nothing in the past hour besides this lovely picture:

"An Upside Down Volcano"

     Oh God, I'm losing my mind. Finals are next week, but before finals must come the greatness of Stop Day. Stop Day is the Friday before the week of finals when there are no classes. Basically, it's an excuse for everyone to get drunk. I'll have you know that I won't be participating in this form of debauchery (which form?). Yep. I'll be studying quite studiously for the finals that I have yet to contemplate. 

     We had a Professor visit us for dinner tonight from the History Department. He was absolutely amazing is the only way I can really describe the experience. He was an extremely well-rounded guy, had seen it all, and was still proclaiming that he hadn't seen the best day of his life. I got this amazing 1 1/2 hour talk from this great man, and come to find out that he's transferring to Texas in 2 weeks. What kind of heartbreak is that? Geez, I feel like I was in a relationship. Guess I'll have to go through the breakup rituals:  ++.

     That is absolutely nothing like how I feel my breakup would go. It'd probably be something like this, if I ever do in fact have the pleasure of a breakup: 

++++.

Enough said. Or unsaid? Isn't it amazing all of the stuff you can get off of Amazon? I'm going to go back to procrastinating, it's quite a task. Cheers. 

Teavana

So it's been a while. I hope you didn't feel deprived of your daily dose of depressing discourse. Was that enough alliteration for you? This weekend has been...epic, to say the least. I'll start you off with Friday:
     Friday is hazy, what did I waste my time doing? Oh I know, I traveled to the Overland Park/Olathe (all the same to me, they're a suburb as the big KC) mall to get some more tea. Why, you might ask, would you, an idiotic teenage college kid, travel 45 minutes out of your way to get some stupid tea? I'll tell you why, because it's damn good stuff. It's from a place called Teavana in the mall. I know I know, you scoff at the fact of anything good coming out of a mall besides clothes (and roasted almonds), but indeed there are good consumer items somewhere in this world of malls. I truly am a lover of this tea, which is a combination of apple lemon pomegranate and imperial acai blueberry teas. I really enjoy the fact that it's called imperial, because then it gives me the feeling like my trip was not one to a suburban mall, but a wild safari upon elephant-back into the Orient to gather some other-worldly spices. You may call it a trip to the mall, but I call it adventure. Hey, I even ran into this phenomenon called rush hour on the way back, so that counts for something. In safari terms, that would've been the part where the elephant stepped on a thorn and pussed out so I had to read it a Dr. Seuss book to get it back into the mental mode to carry me onward toward the Orient of tea. I digress.
     There was also a suspected shooter on campus! :O (sideways gasp face) There was noise of a disturbance in McCollum Hall, and words consisting of "Where's my gun" were overheard. Now if I'm not mistaken, that just sounds like some rough foreplay. It's no need to send the campus into a frenzied spiral of panic. It actually did the opposite for me, I wasn't fooled. Nope, I drove up as close as possible to try and get a look at the potential porn star, presumably in dorm room 343, because that number is of course an innuendo (no it isn't) {yes it is}. Anyway, that was a fun and exciting time for the University. One of my good friends at the esteemed Kansas State University even texted me within 10 minutes of myself receiving the alert, asking about the news. This of course meant that he had no life of his own if he was inquiring about my University, but I responded anyway with this gem: (There's blood everywhere.) Now that's a pretty open-ended answer, and one fitting for the situation. He didn't respond.
     On Saturday I helped out an old friend with State Journalism for high school. I would like to point out that I am in no way connected to anything journalism, I just like to help out my friends (and score brownie points with them). Only did I realize after my friend had introduced me to one of her good friends, and we had been chatting for quite some time that I had a protrusion from the side of my head the size of the Eiffel Tower. Photo-realistic Description follows:

"God Help Humanity"

Embarrassing, I know. Way to go Coop, you sure do look like a straight shooter, spot off the cover of GQ magazine! Nothing a little water and paper towels can't fix. I think the indicator for a shower reaches critical mass when you can run your fingers through your hair, and it stays in that position. Holy Crap. 

     That was fun, sitting and watching high schoolers write pathetic stories about "Ad Astra High." What kind of bullshit name for a school is that? That's like the quintessential patriotic name. I personally think they should have named it Mohammed High, just for some diversity. 

     The real good time came afterward when I had the pleasure of catching up with some high school friends, who reassured me that indeed, college life is better, and high school drama and events are 95% worthless. The other 5% included the possible "real" conversations that might have taken place during those 4 years, accompanied by those one or two amazing teachers that actually gave a shit about you and you formed deep, long-lasting relationships with. I do, in fact, have basically two mothers thanks to our education system and surprisingly high quality teachers at SV high. 

     The rest of the day was spent catching up on much needed sleep, which I've heard is quite a hot commodity come this time of year, and spending some quality time with my good friend Erika from Washburn, what a dear. There's nothing like spending time with a platonic friend by purchasing Chipotle with a buy one get one free card and then skimping on Ben and Jerry's by going to Walmart instead of the scoop shop just down the street. I am almost certain, however, that Ben and Jerry's runs in my veins, because I was told that my mother consumed a metric ton of the stuff during pregnancy. Great stories. I'll quit bothering you now. 

The Great Divide

There are mountains, valleys, and rivers. There are doors, locks, and levees. All serve their purpose, mostly boundaries. The boundary I reference is the cosmic divide that stands between myself, and the gorgeous inhabitants of this Earth we call women. Today, I took the first step on the rickety bridge to cross that divide, and it promptly broke and I fell through and now I have a broken ankle. I'll have to call maintenance to get that fixed (i.e. Ben and Jerry's).

Well, there's a girl in my History of African American Images in Film (Team Black) class that is a Hollandic Goddess. I shit you not. Well, she's very cute, and as one of my friends put it, she has the "ethnic flair". Here is the most abominable picturistic representation i could possibly give:

And the caption would read: "I'm from Holland! Isn't that hot?

Look people, my artistic skills aren't the greatest. So, this girl who I had never talked to, only got her name from the sign in sheet because it's the only one that's foreign, I was being coerced (or told to grow a pair) by my classmates/hallmates (we have about 7 of us together in the class from the hall) to ask her out to a rock concert tonight, cold turkey. Horrible idea, I know. You'll be relieved to know I didn't proceed with this course of diabolical destruction. Instead, I was on the verge of "wussing out" when my friend forced me up by the professor where she was sitting in the front row, right after class, positioning me to talk to her. I merely lingered behind him, feeling my genitalia shrink at an exponential rate. Thankfully, God hath rained down a ray of hope and for some ungodly reason, she also went to talk to the professor. This was my chance. I asked her if the name I had sheepishly stolen off of the sign-in sheet was correct, and then asked her about where she was from. Turns out it's Holland, big surprise there, I knew it was where all of the hot chicks resided. I asked her about study abroad and all that good stuff, and we went on our way. No way was I going to merely ask her to a concert upon the first time talking to her, even though I had indeed seen her many times, but she probably had indeed not seen me. It was a win for humanity, and fat people.

On the way out, my so-called "friends" asked me what went down, and I noticed her friend was at the back of the hall waiting for her, texting. Yes, hot chicks do not go without friends. I told them to be quiet because her friend heard everything, and as my luck would have it, her friend was also walking up the stairs right behind us. I have no idea how she could have galavanted so quickly to the stairs, as I was certain she was not trained in the ways of ninja. Anywho, I saw her, and things went deftly quiet in the staircase until I broke the seal with, "What's for dinner?". Smooth like butter. We'll see how that disaster plays out.

I made no-bakes after dinner because the dinner cooks didn't make their dessert. It's fine, I didn't really feel/like mediocre cherry cheesecake made by half-ass cooks anyway. No-bakes are a round, oaty ball of chocolate and peanut butter sex.

I went to the gym today with my black friend Tosin. I say black friend not to accentuate the fact that he's black and badass, but because the acronym can be shortened to BFT, which can mean a lot of things. Big f-ing ta-ta's is one. Busy Freaks in Transit is another. When we were approaching the building, we saw the strangest thing. There was a guy who was peering over toward the parking lot and staring at every car, which were like 40 feet away from him. If he was trying to examine the paint scratches on each car, he was doing a terrible job of it. Anyway, he also looked like he was trying to double as a spy that was trying to evade someone. He was terrible for a number of reasons.

1. He almost walked in to a shrub. It specifically states in the spy notebook that if you are going to be an effective spy, you cannot go careening into shrubs. That will most surely destroy the universe.

2. He was walking towards a gym. This is obviously an utterly stupid place to try and be avoiding someone. With all of the great and succulent tail that exits and enters that building, it'd be stupid to think that everyone's eyes aren't on red alert.

3. He looked like Indiana Jones. Stupid, I know. I just wish I could have delivered that message to him.

So anyway, he took a path that looked something like this:

Stupid, right?

My roommate is so badass, but I'll save that for another post. I'll leave you with this bit of glory: What would you say to a person that bought a desk chair 2 weeks before finals? You'd say he's a God and possibly the holy trinity for having such foresight and not waiting till the next semester? Ha, stop, you're being too kind.

Cyclic AMP

Lord Jesus, thank ye for bringing thy grace down upon my befallen mother. I know she hath taken a near eternity to relinquish two destitute computers from her grasp, and commit them to the world of IT where they can be made knew. Forgive her, for it is not her fault for straying off of the path of silicon. Bless her, bless those two macs, and forgive us our viruses.
In regular people's speak, my mom finally took our two shitty Macbook Pros in to get their power ports replaced! Ooh, sounds dirty don't you think? I'll write her a virus (wink face).
The past week or two, we've been enjoying the spoils of the projector I took from home, and viewing a picture show out on the front lawn every thursday eventide (my word for evening). I'm getting bold this week, ditching the inhaler, and going over to invite Kappa Sorority house to our mundane event. Sure, it doesn't have mass quantities of alcohol or smoking hot men decked out in douche capes (See picture below)

Joel McHale art a genius in coining that term.

But at least we are kind, genuine, and sincere, and have just as equal intentions as all of those "bros" but just not in such an obvious way. I mean, if I were a smoking hot sorority girl, why wouldn't I want to come to an event with a poster as fucking sweet as this:

I rest my case. For all of you out there wondering who I could possibly referring to as "we", how a person so utterly weird could possibly contrive friendships, I reply that I live in a scholarship hall. I equate it to a frat, but we're just not douchebags. Pretty cool, right? Even more, I live in the coolest of the Schol Halls, so that kind of makes us king of the nerds or something. All hail the motherboard!

Enough of this debauchery. I found out yesterday that I am going to Hawaii in two weeks! I was also less than a millisecond later reminded that I am in nowhere near the shape that I want to be for this grand adventure. Does anyone know of a crash course to lose 30 pounds in two weeks? Has anyone tried dying for a short while and then coming back to life? I wonder if that would produce more weight loss than just exercising. I should probably make a pro/ cons list:

Pro: Lose weight, be like Jesus

Con: Dead, slight chance I might not be the second coming of Jesus.

I'll have to weigh my options on that one. Anywho, I'm excited to go, to travel, to relax, and to be stuck on the most beautiful rock in the middle of nowhere.

My biology class that I should have been paying attention to is ending, guess my time is up for now.

Cooking is food for your belly, not for the soul.

So this semester my grandiose dreams of ascending to the food-like throne of Emeril have been reduced to Lunch Cook, or as I call it: The art of heating things up. It really is painstaking work, especially with the ovens that Pearson Hall possesses. Those monsters take more coaxing than it takes me to coax myself to exercise (Be it known, this is a number so vast and so large, the scientific community has yet to quantify it). Once the two WWII relics of heat begin their ascent to a paltry 100 degrees below the temperature you set them at, and never quite attaining that temperature, lunch making is all but over. Simply insert some form of frozen chicken, coupled with some form of frozen potatoes, and Voila, lunch for 50 college students. No more will lunch take on these simple ways, for I tasked myself to whip up specialty items so rare and delightful for lunch, that even I sometimes haven't heard of them.
This leads to some interesting and stressful times in the PK (Pearson Kitchen) for me. My cooking partner, bless his heart, has yet to take any of the responsibility, but I digress. He is faithful nonetheless in helping me attempt to create the most scrumptious and taste-gasm inducing Lunches anyone this side of the SYSCO delivery line has seen.

Today, for example, was an interesting attempt at Turkey Tetrazzini and Green Bean Casserole. Tetrazzini might sound fancy, but it isn't, except for when you're trying to cook it for 50 people and it becomes a CF of ingredients in quantities even obese people couldn't handle. That's when you just throw all attempts of gourmet-ness not out the window, but into a pan that could double as a baby's crib. Shove that big nasty into the clutches of the inferno, and hope to god it's ready by 11:45. Talk about stressful.

It's really disappointing the day after a good workout when the stairs leading up to my classes seem even harder than the day I had been doing nothing but sitting on my trusty cheeks shoving my face full of dessert pizza and attempting to grasp the concepts of "Chemistry". Ridiculous, I know. It almost makes me want to plow through the two 5-gallon cartons of ice cream that so surreptitiously display the slogan "Made just for you" proudly on the outside. I call bullshit. If it was all made "Just for me", then what am I going to tell all of the other 47 guys in my hall? "Sorry guys, you can't have any of this horrendous amount of ice cream, I've got strict orders straight from the top that this is only to be consumed by yours truly". I'm sure that'll go off without a moonlight assassination attempt. In our hall, ice cream is like gold, and fruit gushers are silver coins. This is exactly why I have taken the liberty of stashing them all behind a geometric defense system of graham cracker and pudding boxes. Their future is in my hands.

Enough about food, isn't it beautiful outside? That's actually where I'm writing this post. It puts me in prime position to gawk at all the lovely women I'll never have a chance with, along with forming my very first swass of the year (connect the dots, you'll get it). I came to the realization sometime during this first year of higher learning that it is like a utopia of beautiful women, and nowhere else can this amount of good looks be found (besides strip joints). It almost makes me want to stick around for a few more years. Too bad I have to stick to that tight pre-med schedule, ouch! Maybe I'll just switch over to business, that should free up quite a bit of time.

Well I figure that's enough banter for now, the chick I had just set my sights of infatuation upon just caught on to the game I've been playing. Draw Cubes!