Memoirs of a Geisha...

I've read it before, and I'm reading it again as my topic for my final research paper in composistion. This book is just as good the second time around, only this time, I know I liked the book, and I chose to do it, so the reading is not as forced. However, I've only got a few weeks to do the paper, and I'm about halfway done with the 400 + page book (in two days of reading). Reading the rest won't be the problem, but organizing the paper and writing 10 pages worth of material will be. I always land on my feet with this stuff though. No biggie. Seriously though, anybody interested in a fictional account of a little girl who becomes a renowned geisha in possibly one of the toughest districts in Japan, should really read this excellent book.

In other news... The Cubs are still the shit, as seen in their current five-game ass kicking streak. They play the Mets to close out the series today. God do I feel sorry for New Yorkers...

Get it out!

Every time I hear that fucking song by System of Down, I can't get it out of my goddamned head!

You know, the one that goes:

"Disorder! Disorder! DIS OOOOOORRRRRRERDERRRRR!"

... I think its called... "The Man with Severe Emotional Problems."

Disturbing, sentimental, nostalgic sunnbitch...

Wow. Just read a page of my little sister's livejournal... "Ho - lee SHIT." I kept saying to myself, then I realized if my brother read my blog that didn't exist about some things I did at that time in my life (soph year in hs), he would probably invest in the keys involved in the phrase: "Ho - lee SHIT."

Anyway, yeah. Feeling pretty nostalgic right now. (Surprise, surprise.) Thinking back on my sophomore year in highschool, I remember getting rides instead of giving them (like I did today for my sister andher friend), and I remember my... *ahem*... explorations with the opposite sex... THATS WOMEN, ASS. Anyway, its got me a little down, mostly because it keeps bringing me back to the detatchment between me and Erin.

Writing cathartically = sadness = sucks.

Yet Another Cancelled Class...

Yep, gotta love the dedication of the Humanities teachers here at Oakton. They just love to get me out of bed and rush over here in ugly, grey weather and then make me sit and enjoy it through a lounge window. Christ.

Anyway, tut-tut, it looks like rain. I guess this means another game will be postponed (I hope). Maybe it will actually give me a chance to go home and work out instead of "playing baseball for Oakton" (a.k.a. sit on my ass and watch inelligible players consume chewing tobacco WHILE STILL BEING ABLE TO PLAY.)

Problems?

Is anyone else having archive problems?

Trend-a-riffic!

So I've just realized that this online journal thing is extremely popular. One must wonder why this is...

Could it be that we, as a species, have become so completely alienated from each other that our only form of cathartic exercise comes in this way? Or is it that the idea of an "public confessional" has become so enticing to us that we feel the need to write down every single piece of crap that happens to us in our daily lives? Seriously? Who the hell gives a shit? This is where the cathartic act comes in; we write these things not to show off our skills of the wit, but to let off steam... What do upper-middle to high class people (those who have the luxury of computers at their fingertips every minute) seriously have to be so unnerved about that we need blogs or xangas or livejournals or whatever else we have? Plus, if humans really did have all these problems, what are we wasting our time reading others' problems for? I apologize for the extremely philosophic turn this has taken, but in all honesty, I have notthing to talk of outside of my house being gutted and Cubs kicking the shit out of people.

...

Ah yes, the Cubs. Excellent stuff. 2nd in the national league in homeruns and 1st in leadoff production/on base percentage. And what a shitty lineup! By that I mean, of course, they are all THE SHIT.

In other baseball news, I'm currently watching the less pitching talented White Sox make an impressive comeback against the Yankees. It's now 8 - 7 and there's plenty of time left for them to... Most likely blow it some more. Nonetheless... The CUBS... Wow.

Mullholland Dr.

Well. I rebuke my last statement about this film. And I must say I'm rather disappointed with myself. People have described this movie as extremely aggressive towards the audience, and I must agree. However, I think since I did not see the whole thing through in the last class, I jumped to conclusions based on an inaccurate remembrance of the first time I saw the film when it came out. I really disliked it then, and now it wasn't even an annoyance. It was a decent film that I'm gonna see again soon.

Good Morning, Houseplants...

Well, well, well... Cookie, cookie, cookie!

Got my gigantic archaeology paper back today with a big fat "59" written on it... 59 out of 60! So, yeah, I'm psyched about that. Nice boost of confidence before I have to give an oral report on it coming up in a couple of weeks.

Mullholland Dr. is a terrible, terrible film with only two good things to offer (And I'm not talking about the obligatory lesbian sex scene between Ms. Watts and Ms. Spanish Hott-Face McLargetits): I have realized that women singers from the 50's are hotter than any other singers (thanks in part to the scene where the director casts Camilla Rhodes and has to turn down the other, even hotter brunette singer) and that the spanish "vocals-only" version of Roy Orbison's "Cryin'" is pretty damn good itself.

Other than that, the weather is getting nice, and I'm feeling better after toughing out a nasty sickness this weekend. So, I'm basically on top of the world right now, and off I go to batting practice.

Spring Demolition

Hello Bloggers,

The demolition of my kitchen begins on Saturday. The first hammerhead goes to the drywall around 8:30 or so in the morning. I am beginning the move downstairs already and lord is it depressing. The end of an era... A really long era. Posters that have been on my wall since I was 12 are being taken down, my closet is being gutted out (along with my pictures of Mariya Yamada from 3.9.98. Wow, she must be like 25 or 26 now), and we are finally moving my brother out officially with the removal of his bed. I will have a lot more space (which will of course be taken up by the fact that we are moving my wall in 2 feet to make a bigger kitchen), and plenty of room in which not to stub my toe on any bed other than mine.

Other improvements:
Central Air - No more lugging heavy air conditioners up and down stairs and trying to get the 2 and a half foot frame into a two foot window.
Bigger, more modern kitchen - Speaks for itself.
New appliances - Stainless steel... Ooooohhhh...
Hardwood floors in the kitchen and living room - Slippy time.
Redecorating my room - ...Finally

In other news... Had a double header in Cicero a week back. We were beating the shit out of them so bad that I got myself another at-bat with the bases loaded. I am... THAT'S RIGHT... 2 - 2 with two RBIs in such at-bats. "Coach, just put me in when the bases are full. I'll get it done." Despite my obvious enthusiasm and jockularity, I have decided to hang 'em up. Yes, after an entire life of playing baseball, I plan to retire from organized baseball this summer. Possibly sooner if I do not land on any men's league team. It will be a change I welcome now, but later I will undoubtedly miss the feel of the dirt, the smell of the grass, the aches of "dead-arm", and most of all, being able to wear catcher's gear and telling Erin all about it.

Speaking of which...

It has been almost a month since Erin and I had the discussion about our situation and I am feeling rather detatched from everything. I feel almost like, now that Erin is not the constant she once was, I have nothing to tether me to anything I want. Sounds confusing?... Yeah, I feel ya.

So, all in all? Redecorating my room, my future plans, and my psyche... All in the next few weeks.

Watching Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood (among other things...)

It has been too long, Mr. Rogers.

In other news... We had an intersquad game yesterday in which I went 1-3 with an RBI single off three different power pitchers.

Also... Had a strange dream the other day. (Backstory: A girl I knew in highschool made my ass basically famous when she decided to tell people to punch it and find out how rock ard it is. *This really sounds more strange now than it did in my head* Well, that started the whole "Rock" thing which became an inside petname thing between me and my girlfriend.) Anyway, the dream dealt with the girl from high school working in a motel giftshop, only the giftshop was more like an old navy or other clothing store. She did not recognize me until I spoke of the "Rock", after which she (very "whorey", I might add) asked for a sexual favor from me. I declined and walked away. It was an amusing dream simply because the girl in question was nothing like that, but rather a pretty nice friend. Yeah, I guess that's why it was strange.