Oddities of being me, I suppose

So I'm sitting in a study room at R.C.C. today and I drop a Real Genius reference (the scene where everyone is studying and that one guy freaks out, yelling over and over again as he exits the room, and the only response from the characters is to move his stuff so they can keep studying) and no gets it. I mean NO ONE. For Christ's sake here, it isn't like this is some sort of hard to find movie. It's Val Kilmer, a house full of popcorn, and a voice in a guy's head telling him to stop touching himself. It made me sad.

What exactly do these people do with their time? Did I happen to find the group of people that could name every single person who had ever been on any of the Survivor shows, but weren't able to recall one of my favorite movies of all time? I started to wonder if anyone in the room with me actually had a sense of humor? If not, were they laughing to be polite? No, that couldn't be it, because I am fucking hilarious. Maybe they were just so trashed by finals that their memories of anything bright and happy had been stripped away.

I'm betting it was just that they, like so many people I have met, have no taste in movies. These are the people that went to see Stomp the Yard. Oh God, I'm going to be sick.

Updated!! Books I think you should read.

I should start this by saying that this list will grow as I read books, and as I remember books that I have read. One of my problem seems to be that my favorite book, or the best book I have ever read, is often the one I just finished. This is not a list of every book that I have read, becuase not everything that I read is good enough to be on here. I write this because I find that I use the statement "you should read this book" all the time. Then again, I did work in a book store...

Good to great books, in no particular order.

Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson
Killing Yourself to Live by Chuck Klosterman
Fargo Rock City by Chuck Klosterman
IV by Chuck Klosterman
Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
Rant by Chuck Palahniuk
I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell by Tucker Max
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Phillip K. Dick
V for Vendetta by Alan Moore
Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut
Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk
The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
Marley & Me by John Grogan
Chronicles of Narnia (all) by C. S. Lewis
Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman
1984 by George Orwell
Animal Farm by George Orwell
All Quiet On the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk
Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
American Gods by Neil Gaiman
Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver
Wicked by Gregory Maguire
Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn
Simple Truth by David Baldacci
Choke by Chuck Palahniuk
Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
Angels & Demons by Dan Brown
Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton
State of Fear by Michael Crichton
Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut
Timequake by Kurt Vonnegut
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
Dune by Frank Herbert
Winner by David Baldacci
Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk
Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris
Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon
1776 by David McCullough
A Time To Kill by John Grisham
Red Storm Rising by Tom Clancy
Interview With A Vampire by Anne Rice
Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice
The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein
Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman
All Calvin & Hobbes collections (ALL OF THEM)


(these are more for those interested in fantasy or sci-fi, this will also be longer as I read way more fantasy & sci-fi)

Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien
The Tanith First and Only series by Dan Abnett (from Warhammer 40K, a very dark gothic-sci-fi series ten books and counting)
Lord of the Rings (as one book if you can, it reads better that way, it was written that way, and it's not a trilogy damnit) by J. R. R. Tolkien
The Exiles: Ruins of Ambrai by Melanie Rawn
Mageborn Traitor by Melanie Rawn
Black Sun Rising by C.S. Friedman
When True Night Falls by C.S. Friedman
Crown of Shadows by C.S. Friedman
Game of Thrones by George R. Martin
Clash of Kings by George R. Martin
Storm of Swords by George R. Martin
Feast of Crows by George R. Martin
Ilium by Dan Simmons
Olympos by Dan Simmons
Harry Potter and the Socerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Eragon by Christopher Paolini (Only because it is good material to use when discussing what is bumble gum for the brain, and what is actual literature. Eragon is the first)
Eldest by Christopher Paolini (For the same reason that you read the first)
Magician's Guild by Trudi Canavan
Novice by Trudi Canavan
High Lord by Trudi Canavan
Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey
Dragonquest by Anne McCaffrey
All the Weyrs of Pern by Anne McCaffrey
Dragonsdawn by Anne McCaffrey
Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series (Yes he is dead. Yes the series is not finished. Yes, I hope you start so that I can laugh at you for being in the same boat that I'm in)
David Eddings' Belgariad (5 books), Malloreon (5 more books, follows the events in the Belgariad), and the Tamuli (3 books, unconnected to the other two series)
Raymon Feist Riftwar Saga (up to 5, because that is as far as I have read, go farther at your own peril)
Melanie Rawn's Dragon Prince (3 books) and Dragon Star (3 books, follows the events in the Dragon Prince)
Tad Williams' series Memory, Sorrow and Thorn (4 books)
R. A. Salvatore Icewind Dale Trilogy, Dark Elf Trilogy, Legacy of the Drow (4 books), Hunter's Blades Trilogy
Michael Stackpole's Battletech: Warrior Trilogy, Battletech: Blood of Kerensky Trilogy

I know that there are books that I am missing on here, and I will add them if I can. Post ones that you think should be on here, I'll even do my best not to disagree. At least I will try not to be vulgar when I disagree, how's that? If you want to know anything about any of these books, let me know.

Random Thoughts and Occurences

I am amazed at how quickly one can adapt to the craziest of schedules. This semester is two weeks away from being over, and it is hard for me to picture my scedule minus school and homework. I mean, I remember what it was like to wake up late and not have to decide whether it was worth it or not to run through a shower and be late to my first class. Ugh. But now I have trouble sleeping past eight in the morning unless I go to sleep after three am.

A guy, no, a gentleman in the parking lot outside of Chipotle helped me realize a couple of different things: first, my left brake light is out; second, being helpful only requires that you don't care whether the person you're helping is going to grateful or not. I knew the second, but it is rarely as evident as when someone is helping you.

I had this conversation last night about how I rarely remember the things that I do for friends and family. I figure that when someone asks for your help you should give it, if you are able to. Unfortunately I seem to lump lending money into that category. I never remember if any of my friends owe me money, though I can tell you every person that I owe money to. It's important that I pay them back, but not that they pay me back. I also feel like I owe friends that would never ask for repayment of any kind. As much as I tell myself that these people want nothing, I still can't let it go. Someday I figure these people will get something really cool from me.

Like an autographed copy of Fight Club.

Autographed by me of course.

Just another English class

I wonder if there is some sort of mathematical equation that could tell you the chance that a question or statement will completely derail a conversation. I mean, if you could find out the likelihood that some jackass is going to say something that throws the entire conversation onto a crazy tangent (like the amount of fluoride in the water in Orange County), then maybe you could do something about it. For Christ's sake! Maplractice, meat packing, home insurance for flooding; none of these topics have the even a little bit to do with either 1984 or Parable of the Sower. Tort reform? Seriously? Why is it the lady that got burned by hot coffee at McDonalds the story that is always brought up to show how crazy our judicial system is? No, don't use a serious example as in the massive disparity between sentencing for drug abuses. No, use a stupid case involving a huge group of boneheads.

Sometimes I am left speechless by the unadulterated, undiluted idiocy of some of the people that I share a classroom with. I could have spoken up, could have returned us to the topic at hand, but I wanted to correct these people. But I cannot. It is as if they choose to be like this. Aargh!

Forcing the madness down

I seriously had to fight the urge to pull the fire alarm. I was waiting in line to give R.C.C. money so I could park my car on campus without getting a ticket. As if there won't be plenty of parking in a couple of weeks when half of the kids stop showing up. Which I thank them for, because their inability to keep off of their cell phones in class drives me crazy. But back to the alarm...

While standing in line I glance over and it's as if the thing is drowned in heaven's light. I can't believe that no one else has pulled it. I mean, it is almost begging for someone to do it. In thinking back on it, I have no idea where this feeling came from. Wherever it came from, I fought it down. I had the image in my head of pulling it and instead of people running all over the place they just stand here in line with me. They don't even twitch. I don't think I was looking to pull it to get people out of line. It just seemed too quiet and too calm in there.

I suppose I could have screamed and yelled and gotten some sort of effect, but I was so wrapped up in the alarm that I wasn't thinking about why, just that I needed to pull that alarm. Thankfully the girl in front of me decided to call her boo and talk at length about her surprise purchase for him. She then proceded to tell him what it was, and complain about how much she didn't need to come to school. At least the guy now has all day to dredge up some fake thanks for his suprise.

Stars and lightning

My summer has been awesome, thanks as always to my friends and family. I saw some of the most amazing things, met some of the best people, and had some of the best times that I can remember.

I sat with my brother Kevin and my sister Elizabeth in the rain at Millenium Park, listening to the Decemberists and Grant Park Orchestra celebrate music in Chicago. I got to see The Black Summer Crush rock the hell out of the Troubadour for the first time, and see them tear up the Viper Room the very next night. I watched the sun turn the sky to liquid gold as we left a raging lightning storm behind before landing in Chicago, and no one else saw it because they were asleep or hiding. It was kinda hairy. (Which reminds me... Midway is possibly the shittiest airport in the world.) I got to sit down to dinner, for my birthday, with almost my entire family and enjoy not only one of the best meals I have ever eaten, but also each others company for the first time in years. (We missed you David) I got to celebrate my birthday with my second family, with less eating and more drinking. I got to wander the streets of Vegas with a three foot margarita. I got to eat at some of the best greasy spoon spots that Chicago has to offer, and some of the choicest spots in L.A., as well as hitting Quark's Bar in Vegas twice.

I got to spend time with the best people that the world has to offer, and I feel priveleged to have known any of them for even the shorted period of time. Even more so to know some well enough to call them friends and family. Through them, because of them, these experiences were better. Or happened at all.

This summer I got to watch the lightning as it chased the stars.

Richard makes up new words.

I fear that I am becoming, have already become, or have always been, an intellectually elitist snob. I seem to have only enough tolerance for the idiocy that seems to cross my plate on a nearly constant basis to keep from screaming obscenities while the offending person is still standing in front of me. I can at least wait until they leave my line of sight. And this attitude is not confined to where I work, though that certainly has been providing a steady diet of idiocy. I am certainly proof that someone with even a tiny bit of information can be dangerous, but these people come in with nothing and just seem to make it up as they go along.

One guy today told one of my coworkers that a flintlock works by having two pieces of paper rub against each other. You know, because paper rubbing against paper is how you start a fire. I mean, I know that how a gun works may not have been taught in school, but the flamability (sp?) of paper certainly was. I wonder if, in this guys world, you would have to put each sheet of paper in a plastic case to protect it from combusting by rubbing against other sheets of paper. I mean COME ON! Accountants and secretaries should be warned that their stacks of paper are a serious fire hazard.

My feet are killing me.

My legs hurt like a bitch. Actually, ache may be a better word, though my feet are really killing me. The reason that my feet hurt is that I stood at the reading and signing for Chuck Palahniuk's new book, Rant. A ton of people showed up and we (Amanda, Yvonne, and I) didn't get our books signed until after midnight. I didn't mind waiting at all though, and in fact, it was a ton of fun. Chuck read two stories that he has never published and wrote specifically for this book tour. He also did trivia, and read his favorite fan letters.

The event made me realize how much I miss working around books, and with people that love books. I like my job now because of the people I work with. Except for a few cases I feel little to no connection to the people that are my customers at my current job. At the bookstore it was different. There were just as many annoying customers, and in a lot of ways less reason for the stupid questions. But all that aside, I miss it. With swords and knives I'm selling a decoration most times. With a book I'm selling something more. Standing there watching the crowd as Chuck was reading, listening along with people that had come because of the way that his writing had touched them, I felt connected to these people.

I'm not looking to go back to work for any bookstore at all. That doesn't mean that I don't miss it. Because I do.

Just a subtraction problem

At 2:30 in the morning, there is no sound. I mean when I got out of my car after getting home from work and watching Grindhouse (GO SEE IT NOW), I was struck by how eerily quiet it is at 2:30. I stood next to my car and I could hear every ping the thing made as it cooled down. I felt like it was so quiet that I could hear the mist... misting, I suppose. What does mist do? It doesn't rain, because then it would be rain. It is precipitation, but how does it do it's misting thing. I mean, if I could hear it falling, then wouldn't it be rain? Or at least drizzle?

Anyways... It was as if the little part of the world that I live in was muffled. No bugs, no cars, no people. No noise or sound that you hear on a regular basis. But I could hear the wind. It wasn't windy per se, but in the absence of other sounds you could hear the wind. I think it might have been one of the most peaceful moments of my entire life, standing in front of my house, next to my car. That peacefulness is always there, I think, but it is buried beneath the rest of the noise. Maybe if I find myself outside at 2 in the morning, I could find that peacefulness more often.

Then again, there is a chance that I could just stop talking and accomplish the same thing during the rest of the day as well.

Bouncing in the dawn's light.

The best days have to be the days to come. I love the days that I have been given, regardless of what the day brought. And I look forward to the next day, regardless of what it might bring. The promise that tomorrow can and will be better is what I work for. I do not believe that anyone's life ever improved all on it's own, so I go to school to improve mine. I go to be able to do the things that I want to do, to have the life that I want to have.

None of the things that I want to do, or be, are because of the money involved. I do not want, or need, the biggest television, fastest car, best computer or the biggest bank account. I want, I crave, a job where I feel proud of what I do. Sometimes I get distracted by things like money, but I keep coming back to a day just like any other. I was still working at B. Dalton, and there was nothing bad that had happened that day, nor was there anything good that had happened. It was just another of a long string of the same day. It was my life ticking away, at a pretty quick pace. I finished my work day and was on my way home when, somewhere between work and home, I came to the realization that I was embarrassed about the work that I did. I was embarrassed that I was almost thirty and all I could say about my life was that I had worked retail for close to twelve of those thirty years. I felt like I had not done anything , I had not contributed anything.

I kept working at B. Dalton for a while after that, and my the feeling got worse and worse. Eventually I left, and it's funny, but just being in school has helped to alleviate the problem. I do not care, much, that I am a student at my age, or that I will be even older when I finish. What has replaced the feelings of worthlessness that I was feeling? A growing excitement at what each day is bringing to me. In fact, you can often find me bouncing in readiness for whatever comes next.

Then again, I often bounce for really not good reason. Unless you believe that bouncing is a reason in of itself to bounce. I certainly do.

School years

It’s almost like I am just along for the ride, as if the goal of my time spent in class is assured, a foregone conclusion, and I just have to be here physically. But that isn’t quite it either. I suppose that another way of putting it is that I feel like I am supposed to be here. I feel more at home here in class than I do anywhere else. And not just in class, but anywhere on campus. It feels like I am taking part in something amazing. To me, being a student is a noble endeavor. I do not mean that in an, “I am noble” kind of way, but that the pursuit of knowledge is an admirable pursuit. I also do not mean that in a “you should admire me because I am a student” kind of way, as you should already admire me, and in fact want to be me, because I am me.

Regardless of what you start studying, what you end up studying, when you start, or even why you start, learning is a privilege. Too many people, including myself, do not take it seriously. It is a gift, one that we can use to advance ourselves with. By making myself more knowledgeable I am more useful to those around me, a better shinier piece of my community than I was without that knowledge. I have felt for years that the job(s) that I have worked at do not affect anyone, not in a big picture kind of way. I want to teach because I want to feel like I am actually a part of this society, a part that actually contributes. This isn’t to knock anyone else at all, just myself.

I am writing this while sitting in my Trigonometry class. The guy two seats over from me, the one still wearing his bike helmet and gloves, just pulled out his Nintendo DS and is banging away at it. Nice. The girl in front of him is writing “HELLO BABE” in huge block letters in her notebook, as if she is trying to send a signal to her boyfriend. You know, in space. There is another guy that keeps getting up and leaving the classroom, while the professor’s back is turned. Then, after the professor has turned back to the class, and then back to the board, he gets back to his seat with no one the wiser. It’s uncanny I tell you!

I don’t feel like these people should have the same sense of worth regarding their education, because (and let’s be honest here) I am almost thirty and most of them are around 19. I have the advantage of having worked jobs that require no formal education, and having felt the sting of being stuck in them because of that lack of education. It sucks. I have not felt like stopping this journey since I started, and I am nowhere near being done, but every day brings me closer to my goal. I can see it every time I close my eyes.

Or maybe that is what everyone sees when they mix too much work, too much school and too much Smirnoff.

Not just another Sunday

The power of shared experiences is amazing. There is an energy to these events that imprints them as very different from our normal day-to-day events. People always remember where they were when major events happened, remember what they were doing. They might not have felt the same about the event, but people over a certain age remember where they were and what they were doing when the Challenger shuttle exploded. They remember where they were and what they were doing when students stood in front of tanks in Tiananmen Square, and were killed. For people in California, mostly Southern California, those of a certain age remember the L.A. riots very differently than those people that live farther away.

Not all of these events are negative ones. On Sunday (this was written a couple of days after the SuperBowl but I am so lazy that it is only now getting up) millions of people in the U.S. watched the SuperBowl. Regardless of which team you rooted for, you were not alone. Whether you sat at home physically alone, with a group of friends, or sat at a bar with strangers, you were not alone. My brother and sister in Chicago, my brother in Virginia, my brother on a ship somewhere in the Pacific, my parents in Marshall, my friends in L.A., Riverside, Arizona... We all watched together. I would rather have watched the game with all of these people in front of one huge freakin' televison, but that is a tad harder to accomplish.

You could feel the energy from so many people cheering, rooting, praying for the same thing. Last year I missed the game, but I feel like I missed much more than a simple football game. I feel like I missed a connection to those around me. We spend so much time alone in our experiences, so missing a shared experience makes me feel left out.

I know that there are a lot of people that do not watch football, or even sports at all, but it is similar to being at church on Christmas. Anyone who goes to church at all (Christians only I suppose) goes on Christmas. Millions of people, more than at any other time of the year, celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Together. Separated by thousands of miles, separated by language and cultural gulfs, all of these people share this same event.

Similar to the shared experience of a single large event is the repetition of the same event. When I stand in a church, regardless of whether or not it is during mass and filled with people or empty save me, I can feel the energy left by the people that have come before me. The building is infused with their hopes, dreams, joys, sorrows, grief... infused with them. All of them praying for, in theory, the same things. The hundreds, thousands, of people that have stood, knelt, or sat in the same spot leave something of themselves. It is a calming effect, and it can be felt as soon as you step into the building. It was my favorite part about going to church.

I guess it is kind of hard to know what events are going to stick with you, which ones are going to be "historical," but the ones that I really try to hold onto are ones like the SuperBowl. All of us just enjoying the game regardless of who we were or what we believe in. Just whether or not you were a Bears or Colts fan. It was awesome, and I think I am still kind of feeling a high from it. I am sure that something will come to take that away in just a day or two, but for now I will revel in it.

Walking the walk

I realized tonight that I do not make the most of the city that I live in. I do not take advantage of really any of the things that Riverside has to offer. I suppose that it is no different than anywhere else that I have lived, at least in the way that I live in it. I work, I go to school, I live and I sleep here. But I look at other cities and think, "Why can't I live there? Where they have a city that lives?" Crap! Total crap! First, I have no idea what I am talking about. I mean, comparing Riverside to Chicago, or Los Angeles, or San Francisco, or New York leaves Riverside behind those cities in what most people would call "culture." But using that as a reason to avoid what this city has to offer is just stupid. Second, I do this thing where I tell myself, and others, that I'm not that type of person. I think I mean the type of person that enjoys or goes to art shows, book and poetry readings, etc. Which, at the last time that I checked, I am. It appears that my laziness knows no bounds.

But I beat it tonight. I made it to the Riverside Art Walk. Granted, I made it pretty late. I also did not even find the place I really wanted to go to, and most of the rest of the parts of the Art Walk were closed or closing when I did get there and find them. What I saw though was awesome. It helped me to realize that comparing Riverside to other places, in reference to the "culture" here is only a way to help me avoid what is here. Or maybe, just to help me avoid here.

You don't know where I've been Lou!

So I just finished watching Fight Club for what has to be more than the hundredth time, and it does not feel old at all. In fact I saw things this time that I had not seen before. For example, Tyler Durden pops up in the group photo while the narrator is sitting on the edge of the bed at the hotel. How did I miss that!?

I also finished the book for a third time yesterday. Fight Club is a great example of a book and the movie that is based on it being amazingly awesome. Not one time do I think, "that was better in the book." I can note the differences between the two, but never in a way that puts one over the other. The biggest difference between the two is normally noted as the ending, as the book has an entirely different ending from the one in the movie, but I think it has more to do with the book being darker (yes, darker) than the movie. The book is darker, more violent, and definitely a little more disturbing. I like both equally, but it is easier to watch the movie. Mostly because it only takes a couple of hours to finish the movie.

In the movie there are two scenes that really called out to me tonight. The first is the scene where Tyler Durden gets beat by the bar owner, Lou. He starts the scene by wandering through the crowd of fighters and talking about how much of their lives had been wasted. Wasted by marketing, by careers, by themselves. It reminded me of why I left the "career" I was in. I am still in love with the idea of selling books, as I love everything about books. But I could not ignore why I was selling them, and the worth of my job became painfully transparent. I want what I do to matter. I want to matter.

The other scene is the human sacrifice scene. Raymond K. Hessel finds himself on his knees with Tyler Durden's gun pressed to his head and is forced to look at his life, forced to throw out the reasons that are stopping him from being where, and who, he wants to be. He is given a choice; be who he wants to be, regardless of how hard it is, or die. Raymond chooses to live. The question is whether or not it takes a gun to our head to do this. Or maybe a better question would be whether or not we realize that the gun was pressed against our head and we did not choose at all.

Each step is a choice

How strong am I if one little thing can destroy any semblance of reason and order in my life? If one conversation, one event, one person can destroy the tenuous control that I exert on my day, my life... Well how in control was I to begin with? I mean, who the hell is running this show! How easy it seems to give up and wallow in the chaos caused when the unexpected occurs. I mean, I expect the unexpected. Plan for it as much as possible, part boy scout, part realist, mostly just full of crap though. There is no way to expect all of the events that could happen to you in any given day. I guess you only have control over how you react to the unexpected.

The total chaos part seems to happen more often when the event that derails me involves someone that is an important part of my life. Or was an important part of my life. Or impacted my life in ways that I am still realizing. We give a part of ourselves to everyone in our lives, some more, some less. I do not know if in giving of ourselves, we lose some of the control we have on our life. The more we let someone into our life, the more they can then exert their own control on it. How do you get it back? How do you get back what you give away?

What do you do when one of the eventualities that you had planned for happens, and you are stuck just watching? Just sitting on the outside, left trying to figure out where you missed another chance. I figure that it is not actually worth worrying that much about. I know that I tend to blame myself for far to many of the "setbacks" that I suffer in my life. I suppose the I should remember that the events and people in my life only have the importance that I give to them. The level of importance can change, and often does.

I somehow forget that people actually decide things without my input, without me in mind, and most of the time without even thinking of me. Which is fine. I am only one person. One fine, fine person.