hammer and sickle, whoop-dee-doo.

i am not sure when i became such a capitalization communist. [shout: equality among letters, bigger's not better] i realize that is crummy grammar, but it is kinda catchy. it is most likely a phase that will fade into obscurity, given enough time. until then, bear with my tyrannical reign over miniscules and miniscules alone.

wow. i managed to write an entire paragraph devoid of any meaningful content. kudos, phil.

it occurred to me today, pretty much no one reads my blog. while any written material finds its highest potential in being read, i think i can be content to write for my own benefit. so, the current news. umm.

oh. i love scrabble. it's a great game. my roomate and i, along with various other persons, have elevated the game to a near-obsession. i think my record is 5 and 4, i have really not been playing well these last few games. which leads me to something that i have been discovering about myself. i realized that when it comes to things that i am not good at naturally, i have no interest or motivation to become better; in fact, i simply give up or avoid the aforementioned thing. some people, when faced with doing something in which they have no particular talent, are motivated by the challenge to learn and succeed. "not i," said the duck. i am a lazy so-and-so (fill in the blank with your favorite pejorative). after the initial shock of realization, it is beginning to annoy me. and annoy me enough to change, or at least give it the old college try (where the heck does that come from anyway?).

two questions and an answer

in my recent pondering, two questions have arisen. and oh, how they plague me with their unansweredness.

1. how does one separate the God-inspired ideas from the human brain noise?

2. how do we reconcile the desire to follow our dreams with the call to be good stewards of our talents, if they seem to lead in opposite directions?

when I figure out suitable answers, i'll be sure and post them.

oh yeah, i almost forgot about the answer. and no, it's not an answer to the above questions.

so when i heard this physics professor says this, it changed my life. well, that's an exaggeration; it did however, change my immediate reality for the better. and i quote,

well, it [being a physics major] really isn't set in stone, you could always switch back, at most losing only a quarter.

i almost hugged him. luckily for him, i was able to control the urge and spare him and myself some embarassment, considering i just met the guy a week or two ago.

almuerzo. déjeuner. غَدَاء lunch.

so after this morning's band performance, i was ravenous. having planned ahead for sabbath lunch for once, I promptly went to work on what promised to be the near-highlight of my sabbath. a sandwich

yep, that's an avacado, tomato and boursin cheese sandwich. hot dang, it was good. and by it, i mean all three sandwiches.

[sigh] life is all about the simple, beautiful things.

out a star, but a dead sexy hem indeed

where to begin? hmm. well, today's hymnfest had been on the music calendar for a while, yet i neglected to put two and two together and realize that i would need something to wear for the aforementioned event. namely a tux, like every good music bunny should know. so i rang my dear mother and she agreed to post it to me. it arrived yesturday. now I knew that the pants were unhemmed, but due to mercury's alignment with the sun (it's true, google it), i decided to not sew.

fast forward to this morning. i woke up at eight forty-five and ate breakfast. then decided that the moment to entertain my secret desire to be a tailor had come. it didn't take that long, something close to forty minutes, but somewhere between the first and second pant leg, i realized that this might not be the ideal sabbath morning activity. thus, i am pretty sure i am out a star from my crown, but, indeed, there are dead sexy hems gracing my tuxedo pant legs.

and no, i don't really have a secret desire to be a tailor. although, at the risk of appearing effeminate, i must admit that i kinda like sewing. there, i said it. so sew me. ha. ha. ha.

simple as hilbert's problems

i have decided that i cannot complain about my social life (or lack thereof). it occured to me that while i would love to believe that i am somehow a victim of circumstance, what it boils down to is how i choose to live and with whom i choose to interact with. i mean, gosh. here's a straw, phil, suck it up. if i was whining about being too tall or perhaps that the sky is always gray, that would be at least moderately acceptable, albeit still complaining and therefore the bane of my existence.

that's a funny juxtaposition of ideas. to hate complaining and find yourself doing it every once in a while. kinda like how i hate washing dishes, but i hate seeing them lay around dirty and so i end up washing them. damn character building.

oh dear. i feel as though cursing has somehow found itself in my vocabulary. there are so many words in the english language, yet there are very few that have the acute poignancy of foul, four-letter words. it probably doesn't help that i think the f-bomb is the funniest curse word ever. i'm likely going to hell. shoot. as opposed to its dirty cousin of four letters. ha, saved myself there.

so it's coming down to the wire. i have approximately 8 weeks to definitively decide my future/academic fate/major. there will be no turning back. its pretty much down to physics/spanish/min in french or spanish/french/min in chemistry. i suppose the mysterious third option--perhaps a major i am not considering--might rear its ugly head. so if any of you who read this have some insight or perhaps a blood tie to miss cleo and her psychic powers, feel free to advise/prophesy/tocar la guitarra--thats bs for the non hispanohablantes.

and i will leave you with this. prophecy is a noun and prophesy is a verb. i didn't know that. i had to look it up. learn something new every day.