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My trip to College Station was a rousing success. I saw so many people that I haven't seen in forever. I met a bunch of new people too. And somewhere in the middle of those two experiences ... I met lots of people that I've known for years but never bothered to remember -- namely, ALL of Keiff's female friends. The drive down was a b-last. It's been so long since team Gill 'n Al have made a road trip. We rawked out the whole way. Trying to describe it in words will only fall short, but I'll just say that I almost passed out from singing the Moulin Rouge soundtrack too loud.

I don't want to go into too much narration about my weekend, but I did take a shower at Jason's, stop off at Dustin and Trey's, see Marshall at Hoblob (his hair is so hot now), check out Tommy's ultra chic downtown loft, visit Josh and Nelly, and attend Burns' and Lauren's ring dunking party. Burns was pretty optimistic about beating my modest 65 second mark, but he fell quite short. I think he came in at 94, which I say assuming he will correct me if I'm wrong. Lauren took several minutes, but I was still proud of her for finishing decently for a girl. Of course, chugging beer is what college ... nay, life ... is all about, but I suppose some congratulations are in order for even attaining the coveted Aggie Ring. So congrats, children, congrats.

After drinking all the free beer we could, Dustin, Trey, Jason, Tommy and I all ventured over to Halo. I saw so many people there. It was way too fun. I drank myself retarded, attempted to dance, had many conversations that are not catalogued in my ever decreasing memory banks. This was a fantastic trip to CS, I accomplished all of my goals of alcoholism.

In other exciting news, Allison got herself a job for when she graduates in December. She's been interning at HP for a while now and has decided to further that career professionally. The exciting part? She's been hired in Sydney fucking Australia. How awesome is that?! Major congrats to her! I am already saving up for my plane ticket to go visit her. Who knows ... if I like it there, I could always transfer to Sydney. Our three world headquarters are Sydney, Australia, Malmo, Sweden, and Carrollton, Texas (obviously). I'm way excited for her, even though it's a little depressing that she'll be on the other side of the world by the end of January. So our party on December 11th in College Station that you're all clearing your calendars for will now be a Thanksgiving/Graduation/Bon Voyage. Huzzah!

And finally, I've been inundated with the word 'insurgent' since this whole Fallujah thing, in conjunction with my NPR habit, started. I finally decided to look it up and find out what it actually means.
in·sur·gent (n-sûrjnt) adj. --
1. Rising in revolt against established authority, especially a government.
2. Rebelling against the leadership of a political party.

Turns out, I'm an insurgent.

I am back in Dallas now after my three day excursion to College Station. It was so good to go back. I knew this was going to happen, but in my defense that was probably the longest I had been away from that shitty little city since the summer that I had knee surgery. I spent the majority of the time with Marshall, but it was so good to see everyone else as well. I spent the second most time with Ryan and Josh, but also got to see Leslie, Josh, Raul, Justin, Justin, Tommy, Robby, and some others that I'm forgetting. If I've left you off of the list, just hit me up with a comment and then I'll cleverly add you and post a comment right after yours that says something to the effect of, "Try reading it again, I clearly see your name there." It is hilarious when I do that.

There's not a whole lot of news from my weekend. I got drunk all three nights, two of which were at Halo. I miss belonging like that. Knowing all the bartenders and owners and every patron of an establishment, and having them notice when you've been out of the loop for a while. I am coming to love going out in Dallas, but there's just nothing like the CS crew. Marshall and I got shitcanned on Friday night even though I told him that there was no way I was going to last past midnight cause I was so tired. I was practically falling asleep on the drive down there despite the fact that I slipped out the side door of work two hours early. Shhhh. My supervisor was out of town so I didn't see any reason for me to hang around.

So Friday night was a FUCKING BLAST ... just what I needed. Saturday was a big drag show that I didn't even look at once the whole night. I drank a lot of Jaeger before we went out to the bar so the entire night's activities are a tad blurry. But I know I had fun and only ran up a six dollar bar tab despite telling everyone I knew to put everything on my tab. Rock out with your cock out!

Sunday night Marshall and I went over to Chris's apartment to sit by the hot tub and play volleyball. Well, I read magazines while the other boys and girls played volleyball. Sports aren't exactly my style. Then we got some beer and I drank a bunch. I am so fun. Then today I said my goodbyes to Marshall at Hoblob, swung by Josh's to pick up some of my stuff he was still holding onto and drove home. Yippee skippy. Oh but I got my diploma from Marshall who was having it framed at Hoblob. The four hundred dollar framing job that I inexplicably paid nothing for. It looks so cool. I'll have to snap a picture for all of you and include it on the picture post that I've been promising frequently as of late.

One final note: Tomorrow is my 23rd birthday. Make my day.

I am now done with orientation at work. Friday was another good Friday. For the entire three weeks, they'd been telling us about our final exam at the end and how we should be studying a little bit here and there because it was really hard and comprehensive. And of course, none of us studied. In fact, we joked, "I'm not gonna study. I bet when we walk in the door, there's nothing but cake and punch." But in reality, we were all fully expecting a test.

Well, wouldn't ya know, as soon as we opened the door to take our tests, the Recruitment and Development Department yelled out "SURPRISE!" and clapped as they stood behind ... yup, cake and punch. So rad. And then we each had a little card congratulating us, a ■■■ pen, and a ■■■ like leather zipper folder thing. It was pretty cool. We had a good time. And then we all went to happy hour at Blue Mesa Grill. I had several beers and one guy bought a round of 16 shots of tequila. These people are all pretty fun. But they were going out and wanted me to join. Something to do on a Friday night? Rad!

The other night I got really sad about the fact that I was in Dallas. Poor Josh and Nelly Ryan had to talk to me while I was upset. I've really been kind of lonely since I've been back. I have my few friends here and I see them occasionally, but I miss all my friends in College Station. A lot. So to go hang out on a Friday night instead of sitting home and going to bed early was just what I needed. That, and more cowbell. I rawked the hawk for all my coworkers who had never seen it before. I met them all at this guy Keith's apartment and we went to Arriba's for margaritas and daqueries to start with.

There was a group of about eight of us, all heavy drinkers. I'm gonna toss some names around so don't get confused. Keith's stomach was upsetting him from his drink so he asked the waitress if she had any Tums. She didn't. And she was like 18 with a full set of braces. So when Willem's check came he wrote "No Tums, No Tip" and then blackened in a big '0' on the tip line. So as we're leaving this bitch is screaming out the back door, "Real fucking cool." And she obvious thinks it was Keith who wrote it ... who is now peeing behind the truck we rode in and thinks she's pissed that he's pissing. So we got out of there pretty quick and went to Suede. So weird. People just CRAMMED into a tiny bar, no dancing, just drinking. I don't see how people find that fun. But I managed to have an alright time talking to random people. I wish I'd taken my own car though, because when these guys get drunk, they look for a fight. They tried to pick a fight with some dude selling roses. I was like COME ON LET'S GO. It took forever to get back to my car.

When I finally did I was thinking, "Holy shit I don't want to drive back to Plano right now." So I start driving and recognized this street, Thomas, right away. And I'm like, "Oh, score, I am in Ryan S■■■'s neighborhood." So I called his roommate, David, and found his apartment and then fell asleep in his bed. Good thing he didn't come home. So to you, Ryan S■■■, I say thank you. HA!

I have a bunch of pictures that I need to put up on here from the Miami trip and from orientation when we went to the top of a 49 story building downtown, but that will have to wait for another blog. Laaaaaaaaaaaaate.

The rest of our time in Miami was much like the first half: fucking incredible. Tuesday night we went to the bar that the clothing store girl suggested. It was like straight up velvet roped Sex and the City style club. The bouncer let us in free, which was cool, but once we got in we were like "oops." Then we had to suffer the indignity of turning around and walking back out. It was pretty obvious we were out of element, so we ran away. Everyone was in suits and it was very upscale. We're used to dead animals hanging on the walls.

So we went to a bar called Score. That was more our speed, for several reasons. I ended up getting shit canned and leaving all kinds of hilarious drunken voicemails on my friends' phones. On Josh's message I said something to the effect of, "OH shit I'm about to run into a phone poll." Good stuff. Wednesday night, we took it pretty easy, just had a nice dinner on Ocean Drive (lobster linguini - YUM) and then some wine with strange Columbian men. Thursday was a long day of traveling back to Dallas.

Friday we drove back to College Station. Traffic was HORRENDOUS. I have never seen it so bad on 45. It took us an hour and a half just to get through Corsicana where it goes down to one lane. So we made an executive decision to take Highway 14 through Mexia to try and avoid the congestion. Allison had to pee and wanted a drink so we took a tour of Mexia looking for the McDonalds or Sonic. I don't know how many of you are addicted to VH1 like I am, but surely a good lot of you have seen the biography of Anna Nichole Smith (aka Vicky Lynn). She grew up in Mexia with the most white trash family I've ever seen and worked at a fried chicken store. Well, as we were driving to Sonic we fucking found the chicken stand. I immediately pulled over, ordered a couple drumsticks and bicuits and Allison took a picture. Now that is the kind of sight seeing that I am interested in ... true American landmarks. We were laughing so hard the entire time.

That pretty much saved our 5 hour trip from Dallas to College Station and gave us something to giggle about the rest of the way. Last night was a glam Halo night with one of my new shirts that I bought. I looked awesome ... as usual. I got shit canned ... as usual. I crashed at Marshall's ... as usual. Good times had by all. I found out that Josh has internet so I'll probably be mooching off of him while I'm around. I will be sure to update you all if anything of interest happens. I will probably be back in Dallas around Tuesday or Wednesday. Or later. Who knows? Later kiddos.

I had my first big-boy interview yesterday. It was with a company called ■■■■■ even though I don't know what that stands for. Anyway, they make automated systems (just like me!). We were sitting in class on Tuesday when my prof said that whoever didn't go to this luncheon had to take a quiz, so we all went to go eat. I was done eating and decided I wanted a free pen, being as I love free pens. I got busted trying to steal one and had to talk to this woman about the company. Bear in mind, I am wearing my safety pinned sweatshirt and had my hair gloriously hawked.

Turns out their company was right up my alley and my senior project (which she had heard about) was in keeping with what they do so she told me to send her my resume and she would get me an interview. Lo and behold, not 24 hours later, there I am in the interviewing room in a new suit (yes, a suit). I think it went really well. I'm pretty stoked about it. If they make any offer, I'll probably take it. What a load off.

Then this morning I had to return to take their written exam. Gimme a break. They make all applicants take a test that goes over math, grammar, and personality. It was supposed to take at least 2 and a half hours (the untimed portion), but I finished the whole fucking thing in about an hour. It was ridiculously easy. All of the algebra and word problems were a total cinch, I wouldn't have used a calculator on them even if I had had one. Then the grammar came. That was even easier. They gave me a sentence to find the error in ... like:

But, if any of you have ever had a paper proofread, editted, or, god forbid, graded by me, then you know that it looked more like this in my head:

I breezed through that rather quickly determining which were complete sentences and which were fragments (something I've become quite good at after working with Sean) and deciding which version of (to/too) was correct (something Marshall would have certainly failed).

So that's my good news for now. I will keep you posted on the employment status of your favorite sidesho attraction. Peace out you have nots, and don't have to much fun.

Oh yeah: I almost forgot to mention. There was also a handwriting portion to the test. Which I also aced. Laaaaaaaaaaaate.

I just rode the bus home. Owen has repeatedly told me that he rode this bus, but I didn't quite believe him. I'm speaking, of course, of the Milk of Modern Art bus. (Check out Tuesday, November 25, 2003: Milk of Modern Art if you missed that story). I was overjoyed to see the painting again, but a little saddened that it had been completely decimated by footprints since I saw it last. I guess thats really appropriate in a way. Art is so tragic.

In place of the modern art, there was some performance art on the bus. The actor was a small, half-full Dr Pepper bottle. (Make sure you don't put a period after Dr -- it's just plain incorrect.) He was sashaying along the aisle, moving erratically left to right. It was harder for him to move forward and back because it required a good deal of acceleration to overcome the static friction. I never really realized how much the bus rocks back and forth, even on seemingly even streets. This just further resolved my stance against ever giving up my seat on the bus for a girl (see Thursday, September 4, 2003: More like chauvilry for my views on that).

To top off the entertainment, there were two dumb sorority chicks on the bus with me. They had to sprint in order to catch the bus outside of the MSC. Of course, they were too dumb to realize that the bus wasn't going anywhere. We sat in front of the MSC for a good additional 5 minutes after they came on huffing and puffing and screeching without every once thanking the bus driver they thought had waited for them. At one point, the girl with the nose ring was trying to express to the other, as loud as she possibly could, that their mutual friend was going to fail this semester. "She has taken 1 out of 3 tests so far," she stated aloud. Her friend pointed out what I found to be blaringly obvious ... she had held up 1, and then 4 fingers to illustrate her point. She realized her error, and laughed, explaining that 4 minus 1 was 3, and that was why she had been confused. Sorority girls should be terminated excecution style. Refer to Monday, September 8, 2003: Sorority girls are dumb for more on that subject.

The final thing I wanted to discuss was my cell phone. I was bored on the bus and desperately trying to ignore the destitute art, dancing soft drinks, and waste of breath sorority bitches, so I started clicking around on my cell phone after Allison McDoesntpickup called me back. It had a running total for hours that I've used my cell phone since I got it. You all know how I feel about cell phones (and if you don't -- Monday, November 10, 2003: A definitive opinion on cell phones). My total since I purchased the phone was just over 40 hours of total talk time including incoming and outgoing. I bought this phone around the beginning of July. Lets just say for math's sake that I talked for 2 total days. There are roughly 160 days in that time leaving me talking on my phone for about 1.3% of my life. I have got to get this number down.

I'm on my way to HEB now to buy a turkey with Allison. How do you like that massage Mr. Turkey? I hope it thaws in time. Then tis go time on the documents I have due next week. We are so fucking screwed. Peace out, sluts, I will see you all here tomorrow.

Last night I spent the better part of the evening making pajama pants for Josh. He went with me to Hobby Lobby a while back so I could get some fabric to piece back together a pair of jeans I tore up when I was drunk, the same pair given to me by MattyK after I ripped them up for him (also while drunk). So Josh sees two prints of Dr. Seuss fabric and I mention that I can turn it into pajama pants, but he can't decide on the green or the blue. He ended up getting both, and I fashioned them so one leg is green and the other is blue. You know I have an affinity for asymetrical clothing. They are so kickass. I want to keep them for myself. As soon as he gets his skinny ass over here to try them on so I can make them the right size and length, I'll get a picture of him wearing them for you all. I am too crafty for my own good.

So this took me up until about 2am, at which point I realized I was never going to be able to get up for my 8:00. I haven't been since the last test that I waxed, so I figured I would drop in for the supposed review. Owen was already planning on staying up until class so I decided to do the same. Monkey see, monkey do. But I was bored and drifting so I decided to drive out to Boob's house and join the SideshoGang in their revelry for the night. We had a good time, watched some movies like Ellen Degeneres's stand up. Way too funny. Everyone was passing out around 5 but I knew that I could not join in. Rick was pissed the TV was still on and Kyle was telling me to turn it off as well. So I did, and I laid down, but I did long division in my head to stay away. I took 1/31 out to like 10 decimal places. HA!

I managed, somehow, to stay awake and left to get ready for class around 7. I showered and got on the bus and arrived a little early. Owen and I were joined by two other guys in our class of like 50 people, and around 8:10 realized that we probably had a walk that neither of us had heard about. Thanks for giving me the heads up, if any bitches in my class are reading this. Preciate that. So I came home with every intention of going to work, but instead my head hit the pillow and I was out for the count until about 2 when James called. We went and had a little good clean fun and now here I am again. I'm actually on my laptop right now. I decided to go ahead and install Windows XP Home instead of digging around for my XP Pro CD since my PC has decided to freeze every time I send and instant message now, and I was feeling quite unplugged.

Tonight I have to start getting serious about school work and make a cheat sheet for my control systems exam. That is going to be a doozy. I have two exams on Friday and I have got to find my way into work somehow during this week or I'm gonna get fired. I also need to go buy a turkey today or its not going to be thawed by the time Thanksgiving rolls around. I hope none of you are forgetting about Thanksgiving. It is this Wednesday (as in two days from now) and I'm shooting for around 7pm. That way, we can gorge and then get drunk, and Thursday is a dead day. Good plan eh? Not many people have RSVP'ed ... in fact, none have ... so if you think are coming, I would appreciate an IM. You can come regardless, but it would be nice to know how many people to expect. Even if its just me, I won't care. I'll just eat the turkey with my hands like a caveman. I've always wanted to do that.

I have a couple of things to report. The first is news from the eRECt Center that I just returned from. I spent about an hour there, and never really got around to lifting any weights. Instead, I sat in the corner and stretched and stretched and stretched. My yoga teacher is going to be proud of me. Anyway, I tried desperately to touch my nose to my knee and I came ever so close, but no cigar. The way I see it, though, I'm only about two weeks away from it being effortless.

I bought my yoga book today and read part of it. Frankly, there were chapters in there that just plum made me blush. This yoga shit is going to be the best thing for my sex life since accidental tantra.

In other news, I was over at Josh's watching some TV, and his friend Kyle or Carl was there. I didn't really listen to his name the 100 times I heard it. I hope he doesn't somehow read this and get offended. Anyway, Josh brings up the fact that if you put salt on an ice cube and hold it in your hand that it will burn you. Ky(Car)l(e) claims that is bullshit. They bicker back and forth, eventually daring each other to try it. When they both wouldn't, I stepped forward as the guinea pig.

It's not uncommon for me to test theories out on myself. One time I stuck a 9V battery to my braces ... that felt like god had donkey kicked me in the face. Another time, I opened my eye right on a camera flash and set it off to see what would happen. I couldn't open my eye for about 2 hours and when I finally could, everything was red. Anyway, back to my story.

So Josh hands me an ice cube and pours a moderate amount of salt on. "Don't be shy," I prodded. More salt. After doing some research on the internet, the best explanation I've found of what happens is this. Pouring salt on ice is an endothermic reaction. That means it must draw heat into the reaction from the surrounding environment. This plunges the ice (normally around 32-33 degrees) to much, much lower. So when you hold it in your hand while this reaction is going on, it draws heat, not from the air, but from your hand. End result: frost-bite.

It was quite painful at the time, but not excruciating. Today, however, I have an ice cube shaped red mark on my hand that hurts pretty bad. Most people would encourage you to not make the same mistake, but I'm not most people. I want you to try this right now, and then leave me a comment letting me know how it went for you. Until then, my little plebeians. Peace out!