Man, people b luvin ‘dem some Maddie!
I mean, cats are cute and all, but mind you, this one is kinda scruffy, and desperately needs a bath. Whatever happened to the self-cleaning aspect of the feline family? I have standards, you know. And if Maddie is going to sweet-talk her way into my life, she better clean-up her image. Or is that my job? Sure, I might be falling for her innocent looks, and cute charm, but I play hard to get with the best of them. For now, we have a feed-hate relationship.
Animal shelter? I’ve heard that suggestion. But maybe, despite her attempts to sneak between my legs into the house everyday, Maddie truely enjoys the freedom and independence she gets from being in the elements and roaming the countryside. I mean, she’s a free kitty. To choose and create her own bath. She is existentially free to create her own essence, and to establish her own identity by the hand of her own adventuresomeness. I’m almost envious. But the idea of making her a make-shift hut is an idea that is beginning to weigh more and more on me.
What am I even thinking about this for? I’m not even allowed to have a cat in my house. Period. Landlord’s rules. I can’t argue with that. And even if I was going to (which I can’t, mind you) who’s to say I wouldn’t follow through on this advertisement I saw in the Philosophy department the other day — a 4 year old little kitty named Munchkin doesn’t want to go with her family that is movie to Alaska and wants a new home and friend. Munchkin is way cuter — and has all of its shots! So there! (insert: sticking my tongue out) — I will admit, however, that having a little philosophizing cat would be pretty sweet. But she would have to enjoy sitting on my lap, and thinking. (i’d probably settle for sleeping too, if the thinking bit was too ambitious of a stipulation).
In other news: I was cleaning out some boxes of stuff in my house today; you know, getting organized — and I found $87 … cash! Nice. AND, it’s sunny outside. Things are lookin’ up.
Oh, and in other, other news: I recently went to the Nike employee store with my friend Huge, and I purchased (among other things) a sweet pair of Nike Shox Socks. Black of course, as I’m hoping to slowly fade/faze out every pair of white socks I own. So, anyways, these socks are incredibly comfortable, and while checking out, I realized I hadn’t picked out a pair - so I ran back to snatch up a quick set (thus, showing you how essential they were to the experience). Today, i took them out of the bag, and put them on; they were a little tight fitting - uncomfortable even … and then it hit me! I totally forgot to look at the size when I yanked them off the rack. What an idiot! Turns out, they are size 8.5 in mens. Looks like I’ll have to give them away. Bummer. Tad might be the lucky winner…
Well, my first week of school is technically over. that’s right, it’s wednesday. I somehow managed to hook-up a schedule where all my classes start after 10 and are done on wednesday. Not that I tried to make that happen, but rather, in taking the classes I really wanted to be in, the schedule gods shown down on me with respect and understanding. I guess it behooves me to have the philosophical interests that I have; so, with that, let the classes stand aside, whilst the reading begins! hazaa!
I do have a ton of reading, most of which I’ve diligently completed — in advance, mind you! Most of you would probably have guessed otherwise, but living alone has its advantages. Somehow or another I’ve managed to be pretty efficient with my time. I’m putting in my 9 hours of administrative work, 9 hours of weekly ultimate practice, and completed all of my reading —- plus, (and there is a plus), I’m working out and doing a tiny bit of pleasure reading. Not bad. The question becomes, can I keep it up? And let me be the first to respond - you betcha!
I’m finding my 3 classes super exhilarating. If I had more time, I would type some excerpts from some of the text in my American Philosophy class. It’s taking such a fantastic and interesting twist. It’s mostly and account of how Native American struggles have led to the supposed success or failure of pluralism. It’s fascinating. I’m learning more about Native American history than I had ever hoped to fathom, and at a time in my life where I’m really having a personal investment in Native American history (courage?) as I enter a stage of my adulthood where I’m specifically putting my sense of self-identity at the forefront of my thoughts and realizations. I know, as many if not all of us do, that I have a particular, undisclosed relationship with certain Indian Nations, and I know there is Blackfoot and Choctaw blood flowing through my veins. I feel a certain responsibility to better understand and identify, at the very least, with the events in history that so suddenly and dramatically changed such an exciting and beautiful set of peoples. As this course progresses, I will no doubtedly be sharing many insights (and profound stories) about the predicament of native peoples between 1620 through around 1930…. it’s absolutely astounding.
My Jean-Paul Sartre class has been exceptional as well. So far, we’ve began the course with an introduction from Sartre himself. He’s dead, you say. How is this possible, you ask. Well, there is a 3.5 hour interview with him where a handful of people prompt Sartre to explain the progression of his life and his writings and to provide potential explanations as to each stage. It’s been an amusing video, mostly because of how odd and, naturally, fascinting Sartre (’s character/attitude?) really is. I’ve jotted down a few great thoughts of his, and hope to readdress them (for myself) in hopes of ingraining them into my own ways of thinking; these notes will inevitably be a ‘verbalization of consciousness.’
The third class is an hour long teaching seminar that meets once a week and allows everybody to improve their TA‘ing skilz, and prepare for a time when WE‘ll be creating the syllabus and the lectures. Ah… so far away, yet … so absolutely close! These are truly exciting times.
And in other news, I’ve taken up on the suggestion of adding more zinc to my diet in hopes of defeating this cold/headache that’s been stalking me. With that, plus three full meals today (thanks to the freshman ultimate players!) I feel back on top of my game. And off I go to the comfy pleasantries of my own little apartment….
The Vitamin I that i’ve relied on for so long to carry me through the aches and pains that come from playing competitive ultimate, is doing very little to ward off this painstakingly uncomfortable headache that I’ve had for the last 2 days. I don’t know what it’s from; it’s not like I’ve an incredible amount of stress or anything like that. I really have done very little. I attribute it to not eating very right (much?), frankly. I’ve had one meal a day for the past several days, mostly because I have zero dollars in my bank account. But yesterday after practice, i managed to sneak into the freshman cafeteria and pile the food on - plate after plate after plate. I thought that would have done the trick. But no. Last night I came home after a short frisbee meeting (regarding the Oregon Fall Ultimate Kickoff Tournament - which is Nov. 6th and 7th) and the pounding continued. I made some tea, turned on some tunes, tried to read… and passed out. Thinking it was gone this morning, I became the target of its return around 11am. I went and had lunch with a friend at a nice little pizza place, and am hoping to reap some benefit - though no progress has been made yet. I’m also drinking plenty of water (I’m on my 5th nalgene for the day), but who knows??? At the very least, I hope I don’t acquire the horrific cold that John Ryan brought to Sectionals this past weekend. He was coughing up a storm, with all the stuffy and runny symptoms that follow. I’ll find my antioxidant fix somehow…
My biggest problem in Eugene these days is dealing with Maddie. Everytime I come home, she’s at my door, and she wants to come in for a bite to eat and a little bit of conversation, but I just don’t feel right about the whole situation. She never appears very clean, and her manners aren’t necessarily the spitting image of dainty etiquette, but my heart goes out to her. I don’t think she has a lot of friends, or a warm home to go to at night, and, basically, I’m torn about what to do with this cute little cat.
I found a bag of Purine in the cupboard, and I’ve started feeding her every now and then. I know Doug and Meryl (the people from whom I’m subletting) have fed her in the past, but was their relationship with Maddie THIS difficult??? I can’t imagine. Today, Maddie followed me halfway to school, and once I came to Agate Alley, she just stood and watched me go, meowing and crying the whole time. It was sad. I don’t know what to do.
This whole situation with Maddie just tugs at my empathetic strings. I’m suddenly reminded of a rather interesting book I once flipped through which begs the question of ‘how did humans come to sever their ancient reciprocity with the natural world?’ - The Spell of the Sensuous. (a short review ). I’m not sure how much a part of the natural world ‘cats’ really are, but, regardless, I will definitely have to readdress this book in the coming weeks.
In other news, “The Lion, the Witch and Wardrobe” Book on Tape is off the chains. Easily the best book on tape I’ve ever fixed to my ears. The full cast version with theatrical music and sound effects is a true joy. I can’t wait to finish…
And I’m off to my first day of classes as a big ol’ graduate student. Ahh… the academic joys of Jean-Paul Sartre’s psycho-analytic theories await me!
Like cement slowly rolling.
Like syrup slowly pouring.
Like ice slowly forming.
I’m feeling unenthused.
Like grain slightly swaying.
Like sloths slightly playing.
Like rocks slightly laying.
I’m feeling unamused.
As if I were the ocean,
Or an object lack of motion.
Something without devotion,
I know not what to choose.
Daydream delusion; limousine eyelash.
Oh, what a pretty face.
Drop a tear in my wine glass.
Look at those big eyes.
See what you mean to me?
Sweet cakes and milkshakes.
I’m a delusion angel. I’m a fantasy parade.
I want you to know what I think,
Don’t want you to guess anymore.
You have no idea where I come from,
You have no idea where we’re going.
Launched in life, like branches in the river,
Flowing downstream, caught in the current.
I carry you; you’ll carry me.
That’s how it could feel.
Don’t you know me, Don’t you know me by now?
Orientation has been happening for days now. I’m meeting people, I’m making friends, and everything is seemingly “all good.” Yesterday, I walked into this big large lecture hall where all the incoming grad students were assembled. I sat in the third row, in the third seat, and just before the presentation began, this super tall cat named “Jake” walked up and sat next to me. It was like Forrest Gump, but with a slight role reversal. He said, plainly, “what are you in for…” I replied, “philosophy” and we began talking. Ultimate came up, and, thus, we had a connection. Later, the speaker prompted the audience for three volunteers to come up and introduce themselves. My new friend Jake persuaded me, and I got up - spoke about Milwaukee, jabbed at Seattle, and explained my two interests: philosophy and ultimate! People laughed, and I got a shirt.
But what i didn’t expect was people to come up to me later, and share their interests. i met like 3 or 4 other philosophy students, and coincidently, my office partner, Jasmine. Each were chill, and I can tell we’ll all be having a good time over the coming years. BUT, I also met about 3 solid frisbee prospects. Jake, of course, standing at a solid 6’5” from Connecticut, a kid named, Matt from South Dakota, and a gal named Leslie, who got her ultimate kicks at Skidmore. These people had that special flare, that special ultimate look in their eye — people that “know” and that got me excited. We’ll have to do some hangin’ out.
In other news, I woke up this morning to find all the pairs of shoes that I leave out front my house, on the porch, to be gone! Yup, some dastardly daring hippy bum stole my shoes. Nothing against the dastardly daring, the hippies or the bums, but something about the combination of all 3, combined with a need for footwear and a complex for stealing, ended up in a criminal act against little old me. So, I lost two pairs of good shoes, Adam’s sweet nike suedes that he left here, and gwen’s brand new running shoes. Serves me right, i guess, for putting that same trust (that’s been with me for so long throughout the years) to Eugene. When will I learn?
Lastly, we had a “gong show” or, rather, a talent show on the Shazam frisbee team last Saturday. It was a success and people really got into it. Patrick gave us coach speeches for double-game point in the game-to-go at regionals, tad jammed on a song he wrote on the car ride to seattle, Charlie, Ellen, and John Ryan busted out some great songs; Janet and Sarah did some hip-hop dancing, Steve played the dulcimer, Bil tricked everyone, I taught some African Tribal songs and dances from Senegal, and there was more … but the point of my mentioning these things is because John Ryan has pictures to share! Feel free to check out Shazam’s Gong Show, 2004 (I suggest the slide show). Oh, also, I recently got some photos from Finals (Shazam vs. Brass Monkey) at the Santa Cruz Labor Day Tourney. Gwen’s aunt took all these close-up shots of me playing ultimate, and it’s kinda overwhelming. I look so intense! I’ve never had an Aaron Bell Highlight Reel. They’re prints, but rumor says there are digital copies somewhere, and maybe I’ll try and get them for my biggest motherly fan. But then again, people like trangy would probably rib on me for posting something like that…
I’m off to more Philosophy orientation meetings, and a dinner at the chair of our department’s house. Jabu!
Things are starting to settle out here in Eugene. After a whirlwind weekend of Kevin Wright and others, the pleasantries of Oregon life have been more than overwhemling. The Eugene Celebration was this weekend, along with the Slug Queen Pageant and the Eugene Parade — which, by the way, was easily one of the most entertaining parades I have ever witnessed, save for the unbeatable mystique of New Orlean’s Mardi Gras parades.
This is my first entry in my new philosophy office. I recently got hooked up with my own little office, desk, comfy chair and shelving space. Did I mention the coat rack? It’s chill. Pictures will come eventually. They even gave me a computer (mac, desktop) because I didn’t have one. I’ve got one week left of summer, and I’ll be spending the most of it attending orientations and administrative duties. I’ll throw a little bit in the in-between time, and gear up for school mode tambien. This will be a good place. With good people. I’m happy.
Now if only those Ducks could do a thing or two about their saturday performances… but who am i kidding, the packers lost to the bears —- the entire sport of football is doomed this season, on every plane.
So, leaving tacoma was difficult and wonderful in and of itself. Seeing all those great faces and meeting all the new enthusiasm for ultimate really made me a bit nostalgic. I wanted nothing more than to be able to come back to the security and comfort of the frisbee house, and that livestyle I worked so hard to make over the last 4 years. But I knew my journey must continue…
Wednesday afternoon I found myself in NPCC having a tasty burrito and a spicy conversation with Jill. Matt Melius soon joined and I could feel 2pm fast approaching — i would be leaving shortly. It was at that moment that I got a phone call. I looked down at my cell, and saw that it was Kevin Wright. I knew that there really couldn’t possibly be anything that Kevin had to say that couldn’t wait an hour. I decided I would call him back. 10 minutes later, he calls again, to my surprise. “It must be urgent,” I thought to myself and chose to answer it.
“Hey man, what are you up to?” he asked. “well, I’m just hangin’ out with Jill (who says hi) over a little lunch at the coffee house at PLU. Where are you?” Kevin replied that he was out and about and wondering when I was coming to Eugene… and I made a small joke that it seemed as if he was alluding to the idea that he was walking around the streets of EUGENE… He giggled, so as to confirm the irony, and said that he was waiting out front of “1461-A east 20th Ave” —— my new address in Eugene!
What!
I didn’t believe it. So, I hung up, hopped in my car, and was at the doorstep of my own house in 4 hours. Inside I found a delivery box with a six-pack of Miller High Life - empty of course (at this point), some flight itinerary info from Milwaukee, some bags, and a fake UPS hat, a mullet wig with a black stick-on mustache…
5 minutes later, kevin returns from the corner grocery store with a half rack of Milwaukee Pride and the euphoria began. Ahhh….. welcome to eugene, indeed!
I’m in the market for suggestions. I’ve recently finished “The Da Vinci Code” for the 3rd time, and am about to send it to a long-time friend. (Don’t worry, Train, I’m just spreading the wealth. It will return). I can hardly imagine this book being beaten, but I’ll give it an ol’ Aaron Bell try. It takes the right book to captivate a listening audience. Especially on long, and lonely drives.
I’ll be making the 4 hour commute to Shazam practice on the weekends, thus giving me 8 hours of driving time to really get some solid reading(?) in. My first pilgrimmage begins in T-minus 30 hours, and I’m headed to the library to browse for titles.
Anyone? Anyone? …. Bueller?
[ps: hazaa! for tape decks.]
“Real calculators carry out their functions by virtue of how they are wired. The calculators of Windows carry out their function by virtue of programs written to imitate real calculators. As Turing showed, computers are general-purpose devices that can be programmed to imitate any special-purpose device. The vitrual calculators seem to work just like the calculators they mimic, but the electronic work done behind the scenes is completely different. Broadly speaking, every program running on a computer implements a different virtual machine. The calculator programs create a virtual calculator, a flight simulator creates a virtual airplane, a chess program creates a virtual chessboard and a virtual opponent.
“Dennett proposed that consciousness is a virtual machine installed by socialization on the brain’s parallel processor. Most important, socialization gives us language, and in language, we think and speak one thought at a time, creating our serial-processing conscious processors. Human beings are remarkably flexible creatures, able to adapt to every environment on earth and aspiring to living in space and on distant planets. Animals are like real calculators, possessing hardwired responses that fit each one to the particular environment in which each species evolved. People are like general-purpose computers, adapting to the world not by changing their physical natures but by changing their programs. The programs are cultures that adapt to changing places and changing times. Learning a culture creates consciousness, and consciousness is adaptive because it bestows the ability to think about one’s actions, to mull over alternatives, to plan ahead, to acquire general knowledge, and to be a member of one’s society. It is through social interaction — not through solitary hunting, foraging, and reproduction — that individual humans and cultures survive and flourish.”
—-
I woke up this morning. Headed to the (my?) old PLU psych lab to clean out my desk and gather my things. I found a note in my handwriting on a small piece of paper that read, “Blog: p442 H.S.” I soon realized I must have been referring to my “History and Systems” Psych text. I opened the book to the cooresponding page, and found two paragraphs bracketed and “Blog this!” in the margine. I don’t even remember reading this. It was highlighted and everything. I must have powered my way through this chapter in the wee hours of some mid-may night and, to my surprise, this text and i have reunited. And how interestingly so…
[“A history of Psychology - main currents in psychological thought”, 6th edition; Thomas Hardy Leahey, pg. 442]
Yes, i’m back in Tacoma — for a few days. To hang out with the ol’ chums, and to finish up some research analysis. My time in Seattle has just ended, and my time in Eugene is on the horizon. Ahh,…. life right now is fresh. Fresh and real. I’m about to head out to pick-up on Foss (on sundays at 2pm) like the good ol’ days. Freshman players will be plentiful. I’ve also managed to make a new friend as we speak (type?), named Troy. We’ll see where that goes.
It’s interesting to be sitting here next to this cat that physically resembles me in many ways, yet is nearly a spitting image of me and my first few days at college, and at PLU for that matter. Outgoing. Disciplined. Excited. And others. I will stay in touch with this cat. For sure. It may very well be the vicarious experience that I will need to keep me attached to this great place. Or not.
We threw down at the Frisbee house last night. Mad peeps. This morning, after clean-up, we had 9 recycle bins of crushed cans and bottles. Wow. It may very well be a record. I mustn’t forget about the VIP lounge and the induction of Spencer, Graham, Carly, this guy named Ben and some others into the frisbee clan by way of Wisconsin-Lunch-boxes. Who’d of known that Kevin Wright’s favorite drink would trickle over to the west coast with such power, grace and metaphore?
I talked to Bakken last night on the phone as well. Told him we had a secret in store for his return, but was very deliberate about saving the details for that reunion at that time. To be honest, seeing reid again couldn’t come soon enough. It was good catching up.
My time with Causey Services has abruptly ended as well. Sadly. It was a good run, and I may not be working under the title again for quite some time, save the Causey Services Ultimate team that we will rally together for Potlatch, 2005. Did I just say “2005”? Wow. Can you believe that 2005 is around the corner? We’re half-way through this decade. Makes you think a bit, doesn’t it?
I’m takin’ that thought to the bank.
Yes, I’m still feeling that way. It’s like a real live game of pinball — I’m still bouncing from one place to the next. It has it’s ups (for sure), but I’m quickly getting more and more amped to peace this town, and head to Eugene. One week. One week, and it’s all new.
I just got back from San Francisco yesterday afternoon. It was a wonderful weekend of ultimate, Gwen, and … Volker??? (how’d that get in there…). As for the tournament, my knee hurts and we got Second. I’m okay with that. As for my return to seattle, Snuffins was there to pick me up at the airport, and after a quick spell through Jill’s place, we were playin’ disc on Foss with 40 new freshman — all right, indeed! PLU ultimate looks good; and there are crazy people out there that already have throws. We walked out of Foss (15 minutes late) and someone yells “ULTIMATE” and you could hear a thousand voices cheering. Needless to say, I got goosebumps.
That night, 6 of us crazy frisbee kids went and checked out “Napolean Dynamite”. It was $5, had it been more, I would have asked for my money back.
I’m headed to Lake Chalan right now, for three days to varnish some wood, and seal some marble at this mansion. I’m cool with it. Perhaps I’ll find internet there. Soon, I’ll be on the ball again with the anize crew, which I’m sure misses me so dearly. Say, speaking about that, is DFC alive? Rumor has it that he is not (…cyberly speaking).
Oh, and if you haven’t noticed, Bakken has crazy stories goin’ on. I may not be responding these days, but I’m lovin’ the entries.
Oh, and super-lastly, I’ve been watching loads of “Sex in the City” —- it’s almost like the Seinfeld for women… I’m not gonna lie, I’m diggin’ on it. More comments to come (but for now, Miranda’s gotta tell Steve how she feels about him - I can’t take much longer).