I found a very interesting private blog entry from several years ago; interesting in the sense that I honestly do not recall ever typing it. But I like it. I usually dislike looking back on anything that I had written, but this, to me, seemed worth re-posting.


"August, 2005

I owned the Quad tonight. It was mine. From Follinger to the Union, Altgeld to FLB, it belonged to me. A few bikers crossed my domain during the time I was enjoying my newfound territory, and one or two groups of people most likely leaving the bars, but otherwise it was empty. I was simply me, the constant hum of the machinery from RAL and Davenport, the crickets and the stars. There aren't nearly as many stars on the Quad as there are back in Libertyville, but I spent most of my time staring at them nonetheless. There was one "constellation" I took solace in in particular. It was nothing more than a grouping of four stars that looked just like lamba, except flipped so that it was pointing the wrong way. For some reason, whether it was the meds assaulting my brain or the oddness of seeing lambda in the stars, I kept coming back to that constellation whenever my eyes would wander. I'm going back out tomorrow night, assuming that the weather is decent, and I'm going to bring a blanket so that I can actually lay on the Quad itself to see the stars, instead of the concrete railing of Follinger. Today was the first time in my three years at this university that I became a Quad Whore. Not quite in the same sense as the term is most often used; I just relaxed on the Quad today for no reason other than to relax on the Quad. Oddly enough, there was only one other person that I noticed laying about on the Quad. That will change quite a bit once Fall Semester 2003 begins later this month. I'm going back out to the Quad tomorrow for awhile before I head off to work, partly to see if I can't convince a particular someone to play some frisbee with me and partly because it feels so damned good."


I recall doing these things and I think I know who that "particular someone" is, but I do not remember writing this.

I've got a facebook, myspace and flickr account set up now, though the only address I have at the moment is for flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/flakk

The surgery went well, the doctors don't know what is/was wrong with me, but it isn't lymphoma. The week after I came back from Libertyville I started working as a full-time researcher assistant for the Soybean Pathology department of Crop Sciences. It's a sweet job; it pays well enough, very flexible hours, and I'm working with some great people.

I'm sick at the moment though, so that's about all I've got to say for now.

Gasp, a real post!

Germany was terrible. I didn't stay very long, and without exaggeration I'd say it was the most miserable experience of my 23 years. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about the time I spent there. Very horrible.

So I left, came back to the States and graduated from U of I. It was pretty anticlimactic. I had a few months between the end of the fall semester before I left for Europe, then I gave up on the study abroad while I was there, and just sort of graduated.

Now I'm living in Savoy, which is just about 10 minutes or so from campus, looking for a job. I can easily get some minimum wage retail garbage at the mall, but I'm working on getting a research position with the university. I just need something to pay the bills until I go off to get my PhD next year.

As of right now, I'm spending a week in Libertyville. Having some medical tests done and then having minor surgery on Friday, just removing a lymph node. Good times.

How to identify scientists:

Chem Prof: Wears a white lab coat. This may actually be clean but does not have to be. P-chem profs have a brand new coat that has never been in the lab; polymer chem profs have strange glop on their coat, and intro chem profs have acid holes.

Physics Prof: Wears blue jeans and a flannel shirt. May sometimes forget to wear shirt altogether. If a professor is wearing blue jeans and suspenders, ten to one he is a physicist. Physics profs often have German accents, but this is not a distingushing characteristic. Be wary of psychologists with fake Viennese accents which can sound similar to the unwary.

Bio Prof: Sometimes wears a lab coat, though usually this is the sign of a biochemist. Marine biologists walk around in hip boots for no explainable reason, even in the middle of winter. They are apt to wear grey slacks and smell like fish, as opposed to most biologists, who smell strongly of formalin. Microbiology instructors go around in spotless white coats, refuse to drink beer on tap, and wipe all their silverware before using it. Never loan money to a bio prof, no matter how much he asks.

CS Prof: Most CS profs are from India or Pakistan. You can tell by the gestures and accents. This is not a bad thing, though many of the American CS professors tend to pick up Indian accents which confounds more specific identification. Like mushrooms, CS students only come out at night, and, if not Indian, tend to take on a pasty appearance. CS professors do not use computers and therefore can be easily identified by their comparative good health with respect to their students. Many CS professors do not even know how to use computers, and are actually mathematicians or psychologists in disguise. Avoid these people.

Math Prof: Math profs are like physics professors except without any practical bent. A math professor will have only books and pencils in his office, as opposed to the piles of broken equipment that physicists keep. Mathematicians scorn the use of computers and calculators and often have difficulty splitting bills in restaurants. The easy way to identify a mathematician is by the common use of the phrases "It can be shown that..." and "Is left as an exercise to the student..."

Psych Prof: Psychologists are not real scientists, and can be easily identified by their screams of protest whenever anyone questions whether psychology is a science. Psych people have beady little eyes and don't laugh at jokes about psychology. If you are not sure whether a person is a scientist or a comparative religion instructor, he is probably a psychologist.

John's door. 

My door. 

So two weeks ago Mike, John and I drove up to Portage, Wisconsin to go skiing. We left around 7am and the roads weren't very clear; lots of ice and snow. But the Jeep had no trouble, no slipping or sliding or anything. After driving about two and a half hours we were withing a few miles of the exit for Devil's Head. The roads were pretty much completely clear by this point; the farther north we drove, the better they got.

We were approaching an overpass, going about 55-60 miles per hour in the left lane, when the car began to turn sideways. I turned into the slide, but it made no difference. We began to drift off the road into the median, which was a mostly just a wide ditch with one of those low metal railings. There was also another car that was off the road up against the railing.

So we went off the road sideways, with the passenger side facing the original direction we were traveling. We go into the ditch just to the left of the car that is sitting against the railing. The rear passenger side door hits the low railing, causing the car to vault over it, upside down. We basically did something like a barrel roll above the railing and landed on the driver's side. Once the car stopped, it rolled onto the roof, so that we were hanging upside down by our seatbelts.

There's more to the story, but to sum up we were all ok, and I was the only injury; I just smacked my head into my window and got some cuts from broken glass (something I'm used to by this point). There was a lot of blood, but no serious injury. The car was completely totalled.

I don't know whether you guys have heard about the "vicious rollover accident" that Mike, John and I got into on the way up to Devil's Head last weekend. I'll post an account of it up sometime after this weekend. We're all fine and everything, it's just that were going up to Devil's Head this weekend to go skiing and I won't have time to write it until later.

I hope everyone had a good Christmas and New Year (and birthday in the case of MC). My Christmas was pretty good, just different with the absence of my dad for Christmas Eve and Day. This was the first Christmas with my parents being legally divorced, though last year was basically the same.

This New Year's was the best I've had in a long, long time. Nothing fancy; I just came back down to Champaign for a few days and hung out with Christie. We were at The Office at midnight, which was a lot of fun.

I do have a really bitchin' new scar from that damned broken pint glass. It sort of looks like some kind of miniature shark tried to take a bite out of my ring finger. I'm still taking suggestions on potential stories to tell people as to how I got it. I liked the bar fight idea, where I smacked a bottle into a table in order to cut someone up and it broke oddly and cut me, but I've been given other ideas. In one potential truth, I was being mugged at knifepoint when I grabbed the blade and snapped it off, turning it on my mugger, and another that involves a burning building and a baby. I don't like babies, but I guess some people may consider that heroic for some reason.

Some really damned crazy stuff has happened recently too. I'd like to believe that I'm a fairly intelligent individual, at the very least when it comes to certain academic areas, say, for instance, microbial genetics. But I'll be damned if I understand the first thing when it comes to my own emotions. I'm not saying that I think everyone else understands what they feel all the time and why, I'm just at a freaking loss. If anyone can explain my own emotions to me, I'll be very grateful, followed by confused as to how you were able to do so.

It's been two and a hlaf weeks since I cut my hand now, and the damn thing still has not healed. I got my stitches out last Friday, but about a third of the cut has not closed yet, so I still need to wear these steri-strips across it and cover it with gauze. The part that has healed is leaving a pretty bitchin' scar though.

I've got a final in about forty five minutes in MCB 428: Bacterial Pathogenesis Lab. Looks like it will be pretty easy, so I'm not worried. Otherwise I have my three remaining finals scheduled for next Tuesday, which should be fun.

I'm also hoping to go see Monster Magnet tonight at the Canopy.

The fun just doesn't stop here in apartment B30. Last night I was doing dishes in preperation for driving up to Libertyville, when I suddenly dropped a soap covered pint glass on the edge of the sink. Instinctively/reflexively/stupidly I reached for it in attempt to catch it before it broke, but gravity won out, and all I ended up doing was driving my left hand into a pile of broken glass. Fortunately all that really happened was an impressively deep laceration on my left ring finger that went more or less to the bone. It was kind of gross, and there was no small amount of blood.

I ended up with six stitches, and hopefully it'll be a pretty sweet scar.


Happy Turkey Break everyone.

My application to study abroad in Kiel, Germany has been accepted by U of I. The program starts in April and ends in July. Now I have to work on my plans for going over early and/or staying later.

Thanks guys. She is now out of the ICU and should be coming home tomorrow sometime.

My mom is currently in surgery. I should be hearing about how she's doing within the next half hour or so.

Neal is coming into town for the weekend. Copious amounts of ass will be kicked.

Don't forget about Illini hockey this weekend against Iowa State University. They got pissed off last weekend because one of our players was quoted as saying that he hated Iowa State University, and Ames Iowa as well. Then we beat them 4-2 two nights in a row on their own ice.

Sweet, sweet justice.

Victory!

Boston 10, Scum Sucking Bastards from a Shithole City 3

GO SOX!!!

We played Michigan in Hockey this past weekend, one game on Friday, one on Saturday. I miss the Friday game, and checking the score Saturday, I see that we lost, 4-3. Apparently it was tied until there were 30 seconds left in the 3rd period and Michigan slips one in.

So I'm expecting to see one hell of a game on Saturday night, since Friday's game was so close. Instead I see what can only be described as the most brutal display of utter physical domination and athletic superiority by the University of Illinois Fighting Illini Hockey Club.

In the first few minutes we bounce one off the right post, just inches from having a goal. A minute later, we put one in the net, but it bounces off the upper horizontal bar in the back of the net and bounces out, and the jagoff in charge of the lights behind the net doesn't recognize it as a goal, so play continues. The crowd goes totally nuts, and about 15 seconds later the refs signal a delayed penalty on Illinois and discuss with the team captains and each other, and decide to give us the goal.

After that, it just went downhill for Michigan. End of the first period saw the Illini leading (I believe) 7-0. By the end of the third period, winning 14-1, the Illini are just having fun with between the legs passes and the like. Michigan was having some serious morale issues too, as one of their players received a 5 minute major and a game misconduct ejection for "abuse of officials". Basically, he punched a ref.

Michigan embarassed itself in other ways, but I'll leave those for later, as I need to get to class.

IF WOMEN DRINK....
Beer: Personality: Casual, low maintenance; down to earth. Approach: Challenge her to a game of pool.
Cocktails or Blender drinks with umbrella: Personality: Flaky, annoying, dizzy, and a pain in the ass. Approach: Avoid her, unless you want to be her cabin boy.
Mixed drinks - no umbrellas e.g.; Scotch & Soda: Personality: Mature, has picky taste; knows what she wants. Approach: If she wants you, she'll send YOU a drink.
Water: Personality: Pretentious and is looking for a serious relationship. Approach: Don't
Wine - (bottled, not 4 litre cask): Personality: Conservative and classy, sophisticated. Approach: Try to weave Paris and clothing into the conversation.
Bacardi Breezer, Red Square, Archers, Smirnoff Ice, etc.: Personality: Easy, thinks she is trendy and sophisticated, actually has absolutely no clue. Approach: Make her feel smarter than she is...and you're in.
Cape Velvet: Personality: Annoying voice, bit of a tart. Approach: Stand close and mention the alley next to the pub.
Shots and Slammers (Tequila,Vodka,Aftershock,etc.): Personality: Hangs around with male work pals or looking to get drunk...and naked. Approach: Easiest hit in the pub, Nothing to do but wait...

IF MEN DRINK...(As always, very simple and clear cut.)
DIET 7-UP: See either "Vodka or Brandy" below, or "Cape Velvet" above.
Cider: He's probably under-aged and wants to get laid.
Cheap Domestic Beer: He's poor/student and wants to get laid.
Premium Local Beer: He likes good beer and wants to get laid.
Imported Beer: He's old; he likes good beer and wants to get laid.
Guinness: The man is a rapist and will get laid one way or another.
Water: He just threw up and is trying to wash the taste out of his mouth so that he can still get laid.
Wine: He's hoping that the wine thing will give him a sophisticated image and help him get laid.
Vodka or Brandy: Extremely horny hound, would shag a warm scarf. Desperate to get laid.
Port: Thinks he's sophisticated, secretly likes men and wants to get laid.
Whisky: He doesn't give two $hits about anything and will hit anyone who will get in his way of getting laid.
Jack Daniels: Not as masculine as the whisky drinker, knows all about feminine activities (knitting, crochet, etc.) to weasel himself into getting laid.
Rum or Tequila: Likes fighting almost as much as getting laid.
Bacardi Breezer, Red Square, Archers, Smirnoff Ice, etc.: He's gay (blatantly) - don't turn your back or pick up any dropped change.