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Downward Spiral of The Office

May 31, 2012 1 comment

The first five seasons of The Office were fantastic. Then the sixth season happened. And seventh. And eighth. The whole idea of The Office was having a documentary camera crew come in and film the lives of employees at a paper company, Dunder Mifflin. While the first episode of the first season was practically a shot-for-shot remake of the original British version of the same name, it was amazing. It felt like a documentary. This is what set The Office apart from shows like Friends, Seinfeld, and other classics.

There was no audience or completely set script,with the added feel of Survivor-esque filming. The actors were believable when they looked at the camera or had talking heads, there was no music, and it felt real. That first episode set the stage for what would become one of America’s favorite shows. Jim’s jello antics set the stage for the type of relationship he and Dwight would have, the talking heads about yogurt would give us an idea about Jim and Pam (and Roy, to an extent). Michael thinking the person on the phone was a man when it was in fact a woman was only a microscopic view of what would become of the That’s-What-She-Said Michael Scott.

Somewhere along the lines, however, The Office became less of a mockumentary and more of a sole comedy, which are two different things. This mockumentary type show allowed for awkward silences, but as the series progressed, the show tried too hard. Not a single time during the entire first season, which was only six episodes, did any of the characters venture off outside the building or parking lot while the camera crew was filming. The producers and writers obviously understood that there is only so much you can do within the office, which was evident in “The Dundies,” the season two premiere. By quick glance, I can recall eight different episodes in the second season where the majority of the action is outside the building, known as the “Business Park” within the show. If you jump to season six, there are at least fourteen separate episodes where most of the plot is outside of the Business park. The first couple of seasons showed us situations and plots that were real and stuff we could all relate to. By season six, you have co-managers, people falling into Koi ponds, the camera crew filming at a hospital and Niagara Falls, and the whole Twelve Days of Christmas charade.

Knowing that season seven was going to be Steve Carell’s last as Michael Scott, the writers had quite the dilemma: figure out a way for Scott to leave, make his last season the best, and his replacement, all while avoiding ignoring every other character. Season seven was incredibly rushed with the return of Holly Flax. Holly, through a matter of a couple episodes, was engaged to another man, broke off the engagement, and began dating Michael. As soon as the viewer finds out of Holly’s return during the Christmas episode (which features the best Jim/Dwight plot in the show’s run), you know how his time is going to end: he will get married to her. The added “twist” was Holly’s parents needed accompanying. Naturally, Holly and Michael need to go to Colorado where the parents are to take care of them.

Despite season seven being a lackluster season, “Goodbye, Michael” was easily one of my favorites during the show’s run. But of course it would have to be. Watching one of the best television characters of all time leave after seven years is quite emotional and writers of The Office did a marvelous job with that.

Now, The Office had to face an issue for the first time: life after Steve Carell and Michael Scott. The show had its moments in the past when Scott was out and about (“Office Olympics,” trying to win clients back with food baskets, and the Hilary Swank debate all come to mind). Of course you can’t have a running office without a manager, so finding a replacement takes prevalence. Will Ferrell stepped in for four-some-odd episodes and it was the worst four-episode stretch The Office ever had. Any viewer that reads about the show knew he would only be on for a few episodes, so he has to leave somehow. Trying to dunk a basketball from the free throw line and severely injuring himself does the trick. The finale of season seven is interviewing various candidates. Part of me wanted to call out a “Jumping the Shark” when they got Ray Romano, Warren Buffet, James Spader, Jim Carrey, Will Arnett, Ricky Gervais, Kathy Bates, and Catherine Tate…all in the same episode. When the show doesn’t announce the new manager at the end of the season, viewers can wait for news to come out during the summer about which actor/actress got the part, which destroys the suspense.

James Spader as Michael Scott’s replacement was the best choice. Making tertiary characters have bigger parts was not. Kevin, the idiotic accountant, had a much bigger part in season eight and that struck me the wrong way. I’d choose Creed over Kevin any day. The end of season eight, the show’s most current, sees David Wallace, easily one of my favorite characters, buying out Dunder Mifflin (now called Dunder Mifflin-Sabre) for somewhere in the realm of $20 million, which leads me to my final point.

How is Dunder Mifflin still a viable company? Dunder Mifflin branches in Pittsfield, Stamford, Camden, Yonkers, Buffalo, and Binghamton have all closed down, all within eight years of each other. This leaves four branches still operating, according to the weight loss board in “Weight Loss” of season five. All of these branches are closing and yet, the one branch with the most antics has some sort of immunity? When the branch was run by Michael Scott, nothing ever got done and that is not an understatement. When Robert California (James Spader) is running the show, branches accidently get closed because of drunkenness.

In the end, if a viewer was to go up to all the cast and crew of a 2005 Office and tell them about the show in 2012, they’d probably laugh at how wrong you would be. No way would the camera crew somehow be in the exact locations to film a car chase scene (“Free Family Portrait Studio”), Kevin, Meredith, and Erin (who was not even around in 2005, but whatever) winning a trivia contest, the entire company being worth $20 million, and Catherine Tate and her British-ness running the branch for a while.

They would laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

And yet, it is happening.


Pretty Little Liars

April 1, 2012 Leave a comment

“If you haven’t read the books, there is no way you’d understand it by watching.”
“It’s impossible to explain.”

In my second go around with ABC Family (my first being my attack on Secret Life of the American Teenager), I get in the ring with Pretty Little Liars, perhaps the second most popular show on this rat-infested channel. Those two quotes that started this blog were said by my lovely girlfriend, Katie, who made an appearance last week as well. Upon hearing those two sentences, I thought about this guy:

Four girls get stalked. Fifth one got killed. They are trying to figure out the murderer.

Well, that wasn’t so hard.

Now with more detail (based on what I gathered online):

There are five pretty girls, hence the first word in the show’s title. Through basic searches, I found that these five actresses range between 5 feet 2 inches and 5 feet eight inches, hence the second word in the show’s title. (As a side note, when looking up Sasha Pieterse (who plays the girl that dies even before the show starts somehow), Katie told me that she was in Sharkboy & Lavagirl. Is it wrong for me to immediately hate her?)

Some of the guest stars in season one include Parker Bagley (who?), Diego Boneta (who?), Yani Gellman (who?), Cody Allen Christian (who?), and Lesley Fera (who?).

One year after the fifth girl, Allison’s, disappearance, cops find her body. Because when my friend goes missing, I wait a year before I do anything. But I was told that they tried calling her cell phone, but to no avail. Valiant effort, girls.

So this mysterious First Letter of the Alphabet shows up and sends texts to the four remaining girls about their deepest secrets.

Aria: She lived in Iceland for a year. I wonder how that conversation went down.

Dad: I cheated on your mom.
Aria: Okay.
Dad: Let’s go to Iceland for a year.
Aria: Okay.

Iceland must have done good for Aria because when she came back, her face was that of Selena Gomez.

Hello, I’m Selena Gomez

Hanna: Once chubby, now resorts to shoplifting. What a life.

Emily Fields: A swimmer on the high school team (though she should totally be into track & field(s) for obvious reasons), she is a total lesbo who loves Maya, a girl that moves into Allison’s house.

Spencer: Perfectionist and a straight first letter of the alphabet student. She is a total loner and only loves her sister’s fiancé, who she makes out with. (What the hell is with ABC Family and fiancés cheating on each other?)

Katie: He [fiancé] is British.
Me: Oooooo!

That still doesn’t make it okay.

Through the tiny biographies of the four main characters and Maya, it would seem that either Maya or Spencer killed Allison. Maya lives in Allison’s house, which is the perfect crime. Kill a girl and go steal her house! Spencer is a total loner and gets straight A’s! A is that letter we are looking for after all.

At one point in the first season, during a flashback, Allison throws a firecracker in Jenna’s garage. They call her the blind girl. That is literally the best description of Jenna I can give you. Anyway, the firecracker hit’s Jenna’s eyes. Blind girl. Allison totally did it on purpose. Bitch blind girl. Jenna probably deserved it.

Allison told Toby (no not the sad-sap from The Office), Jenna’s step-brother, to turn himself in otherwise she would reveal his secret to the skies. Toby, although he didn’t do it, has a right to throw firecrackers at Jenna. She is only his half-sister.

Toby’s secret, by the way: He had sex with Jenna. That, too, is okay because she is only his half-sister and they are not really related.

In the season finale of the first season, Allison leaves her four friends information, which prompts them to finally put an end to the First Letter of the Alphabet.

Wait. They are just now wanting to put an end to this person? What the hell have they been doing for the previous 21 episodes?! The episode ends with the text, “It’s not over until I say it is. Sleep tight while you still can bitches.”

I guess that means more for me to talk about.

Guest stars for season two include Claire Holt, Becky Buckley, Andrea Parker, and Eric Steinberg.
Who the fuck are all these people?

For the record, one of the guest stars was Lindsey Shaw, who played the tall love interest of Ned Bigby in Ned’s Declassified School Survival Guide, which was easily the best show Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon ever came up with.

Season two starts with the girls telling the police the story with Ian, who fell to his death. The cops find no body and they think the four girls are liars, hence the third and final word in the show’s title.

Naturally, the entire second season is finding out who the First Letter of the Alphabet is.
Naturally, it would take them the entire second season. They took a year to put forth effort in finding Allison’s body and they took a year to finally decide that they should find this “A.”

I’ll be totally honest. I was too lazy to read anything about season two, so I skipped to the season finale. Even that felt like a book. Basically, Mona is A. I have no idea what she looks like and, chances are, neither do you. So let’s both picture Mona Lisa killing Allison and wreaking havoc on many lives. In the climax of the entire season, Mona drives to a place called Lookout Point where she intends to throw Spencer over a cliff. Mona instead slips and falls off. The show would end right there. But no. There are still eight or something books that the show needs to get through, so Mona has to survive. She later tells a random person, “I did everything you asked me to.” This implies that there are more A’s, which is weird because the English alphabet only has one “A” in it.

I’ve never been fond of TV shows and movies that are based on books by the same name. It is a no-win situation. If the TV show/movie follows the book, then you know the ending. If it doesn’t, then you’ll complain that it didn’t follow the book.

Anyway, today is April first.
Like April Fool’s Day, this show is a joke.

Secret Life of the American Teenager

March 27, 2012 Leave a comment

Season four of the hit ABC Family show returned Monday. I had never seen this television show before and I was not about to start amidst the fourth season. While playing MLB The Show 12, my girlfriend, Katie, watched the newest episode online. Our agreement is I play video games while she gets internet. For the record, I only get the internet when she sleeps, but I’m usually sleeping too. Anyway, I couldn’t help but glance at the computer screen every now and then and hear the voices because no headphones were plugged in. Apparently, hearing the sounds of a black guy robot is more appealing than Matt Vasgersian calling my spring training games. The premise for the entire show, courtesy of Katie’s mouth and my typing:

Disclaimer: I cannot stress enough the absurd fact that ALL OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED ARE IN HIGH SCHOOL.

It started out for summer camp. Amy slept with Ricky and got pregnant, even though Ricky was dating Adrianne at the time. Amy was dating Ben, who is a clone of Ricky (seriously, they look exactly alike). Ricky broke up with Adrianne and Amy and Ben broke up. (Basically, it was like a Final Four where Amy and Ricky advanced to the championship game). Naturally, Amy and Ricky started dating. After the baby is born, Adrianne sleeps with Ben (so perhaps Adrianne and Ben made it to the championship game) simply to get back at Amy for sleeping with Ricky. Adrianne gets pregnant too. (Adrianne is two years behind Amy in her quest for becoming a mirror copy of Amy.) Adrianne and Ben start dating after the reveal of the baby. They then get married. The baby dies, which leads to two months of depression inside Adrianne’s house. Ben can’t put up with Adrianne being depressed (I don’t blame him), so he leaves. At graduation, Ricky proposes to Amy, who, dumbly, accepts. At the graduation party, Ricky kisses Adrianne (right after he proposes) to (get this) prove that Adrianne doesn’t love Ricky anymore. (Because when I prove to someone that I don’t love them, I kiss them.) Adrianne sleeps with Henry (who I refer to as Ching Chong.) Ching Chong broke up with a female Ching Chong, who walked in on him with Adrianne. Ben’s best friend was Ching Chong, but not anymore, so now it is just female Ching Chong who is Ben’s best friend. Ben met a girl (whose redhead dubs her Firecrotch.) That’s kinda where it ended.

Somewhere in this mix lies Molly Ringwald.

This is seriously the first three and a half seasons. Many teenagers having unprotected sex, smoking pot, getting married, and having multiple children all during high school. ABC Family glorifies everything we try to avoid as a society. Even the adults in the show are fucked up.

Molly Ringwald divorces Amy’s dad and moves to Florida to get very far away. She comes back (some reason with Amy) and both parents have a one night stand which leads to a surprise baby. The thing about Secret Life is that everyone has unprotected sex and every single time, it leads to a pregnancy. Ringwald claims in the most recent episode that she hates this life. I agree. I not only hate everything about everyone’s life, I hate everything about the show. About twenty-one minutes in, I tried figuring out who the best actor on the show is. Part of me wants to say Molly Ringwald because (1) I don’t know her character name and (2) She was in The Breakfast Club.


The following is a personalized character list (please do not get offended):

  1. Amy – Big nose
  2. Ricky – Ben
  3. Ben- Ricky
  4. Adrianne – Slut
  5. Henry – Ching Chong Tiny Dick
  6. Alice – Female Ching Chong
  7. Grace – Confused Blonde
  8. Jack – Confused Football player who will inevitably date Grace again
  9. Molly Ringwald
  10. Ashley – Crazy hobo
  11. I-Don’t-Know-Her-Name-But…-Redhead –  Firecrotch
  12. Raven, Mercedes, or Wendy – Bird, car, hamburger
  13. The black guys – robots
  14. Amy’s dad – Dude from Cash Cab(Not really)
  15. Ricky’s mom – Lesbian from Wizards of Waverly Place

The one messed up thing about Wizards (other than Selena Gomez) is the family, which is the only reason why I don’t watch the show. The family consists of a Mexican mother, two Mexican sons, a Mexican daughter and…a white dad. Now I’m not saying I’m racist, but with this in hand, you have to be consistent. You can’t even applaud Disney Channel for trying to be diverse.

Apparently, Amy’s kid is three years old. She is also either seventeen or eighteen, a number that could not come to a finite decision as my girlfriend and I discussed it for several minutes to no avail. Regardless, Amy must have been either fourteen or fifteen when she got pregnant. The reason for the pregnancy? It was her first time. Because on everyone’s first time, you do it no-protection. At least that’s what the writers for Secret Life like to believe.

Speaking of the show’s namesake, every character seems to know every other character. Ben is learning about Ching Chong’s sex with Adrianne via some tertiary character (I think either the bird, car, or hamburger).

How secret are these lives really?

For the record, Ben is a total dick. He got pissed at Ching Chong for doing it with Adrianne. Ben was not even with Adrianne, the slut, at the time, so why he is pissed in the first place is messed up. But the added reason for the dick-ness is that at the beginning of the episode, Ben was talking to Firecrotch on the phone. He was totally going to get in her pants, ultimately, because of his Tony Soprano father.

My wild predictions for a show I’ve seen a grand total of 10 minutes:

-Ricky (a giant player) leaves Amy at the alter admitting he cheated on her (because that is one of the major themes of the show along with terrible marriages)
-Molly Ringwald will get back together with Amy’s dad for good – the guy deserves it. He is the only non-ridiculous person on the show
-Adrianne and Ching Chong will get more serious, which will lead to Adrianne receiving death threats from Female Ching Chong, which will turn into something similar to Pretty Little Liars, which means the actors can now be on both shows.

In the end, Secret Life shows us that, hey, our lives will never be like that. It makes us feel better about the situations we are in. It sends the message that, even though you dropped your precious ice cream on the ground today, at least your boyfriend who impregnated you didn’t cheat today.

Everybody wins.

Except people like me who hate this shit.

Semester One At Ashford

December 31, 2011 Leave a comment

I remember the first day of middle school. We all sat in a circle and played a Let’s-Get-To-Know-Everyone type game. We took the first letter of our name and associated it with something we liked in our life. The next person had to repeat all the people before them. It sucked to be the last person, which meant going through all other twenty-nine peers and naming all the random things they liked. You were lucky if you were the first person because then you just got to sit there the entire time and laugh when no one could remember that your name was Alex and that you liked apples. I was that first person.
I still like apples.

I remember the first day of high school. All of the Link Leaders cheered us on as we came into the gym. They all looked at me and tried to give me high fives. For all I know, they never washed their hands, so I didn’t touch them. We split into groups and played games and such to get to know each other and the school better. We, in unison, were ecstatic when we got our lockers. I never had a locker partner in middle school and you better believe I continued that tradition in higher education. We got to go to all of our classes that first day for about five minutes each to, I guess, get to know everybody. Turns out, we’d all have different schedules the next day.

I remember the first day of college. I had an eight am class. What a way to start. I thought my Freshman Experience teacher was weird. I also had Government that day and I knew I wouldn’t like that teacher. It was here where I would finally feel that I am a small fish in a big pond, despite the fact the school only has about 550 campus students. You are on your own and, really, professors don’t care if you fail. As long as the institution gets its money, that’s all that really matters.
At least…that is what I was told.

Freshman Experience – 8-8:50AM Mon-Wed-Fri
I don’t like the idea of waking up at seven thirty to go to an eight o clock class. I didn’t like the idea of waking up that early through the first eighteen years of my life, either. We were required to read a book written by a man with big ears. We were required to get involved in activities on campus. I didn’t want to do either of these things. I like staying in my prison cell known as my dorm room and just waste the hours away on Facebook reminiscing with friends back home or playing the PS3 I would eventually get. I toughed it out, however, and didn’t miss a single class. I contributed to conversations about what I’m going to do this school year and how I’m going to be actively involved on campus. Most of what came out of my mouth was bogus. I learned very quickly that this class was quiet – too quiet. One man, Ryan, wasn’t enough to get this class going. I started to speak up more in hopes others would follow. Much like my junior year French class, they did not follow. Outside of class however, I began talking to one of my classmates, Katie (SEE: “Katie”). This blossomed into a wonderful relationship and, as a result, I changed seats. I use to sit in the first seat of the second row, but now I sat in the back row right next to Katie. This was God’s way of telling me this is where I belong. The first day I changed seats, our teacher made note of it quickly.
”New seat, Alex?”
”Change of pace,” I replied with a smile on my face and a turn of the head to look at Katie.

American National Government – 11-11:50AM Mon-Wed-Fri
This, for some reason, started out as my second favorite class. That fact disintegrated faster than Greg Oden’s career. Two things I don’t like seeing in humans – slow talker and stuttering – was morphed into my professor. Halfway through his sentence, you gave up. He’d ramble on about things we didn’t need to read and chapters we weren’t on. I finally adapted and brought my laptop to class to further myself from this train wreck. Fifty minutes a day for three days a week presented golden opportunities to keep up with fantasy football, Facebook, Who Knew videos on Yahoo!, and all things the internet has to offer. What made this class better was the fifteen hours of “service learning” (community service) we were required to do (sarcasm). I hated it. Passing out flyers about a race, being part of a parade in stinky Clinton, Iowa, passing out flyers again because we did it wrong the first time, and putting together goodie bags for the Red Cross is not what I want to do on my Monday nights.
Monday Night Football, man. Why couldn’t my professor understand my needs?

Oral Communication – 9-10:15AM Tues-Thurs
I will forever laugh when the word “oral” is used in any sentence. Anyway, I loved getting up at eight-something knowing I’d give a kick-arse speech that day. I was able to give a one-to-two minute speech about myself, one about the White Stripes, where I dropped knowledge on everyone, a persuasive speech about how some activities shouldn’t be considered sports (which was especially geared towards the bowlers and cheerleaders in the class), and a trip up to Portland, which the professor called one of the best he’s ever heard. Not bad for a student who once went to class without socks on and literally had just woken up because the fire alarm went off and we weren’t allowed back in.

English Composition I – 12:30-1:45PM Tues-Thurs
It took me nineteen years to realize that there is such a world where I can write many pages about Back to the Future, use my creepy vast knowledge of high school shootings, and have my marketing background come into play. This is the world of college English classes. I finally got to see just how well I could write and it ended up better than I could ever imagine. My professor, who implored us to call him by his first name, which I made sure to over-do, loved my essays. I’m home now for winter break and I realize my favorite essay I wrote came in English. It was an argument paper using the argumentative tools made by Stephen Toulmin. I have included the short three paragraph essay here for your enjoyment.


In my English Composition class on Thursday, September 15, 2011, I had a brief discussion about football with my teacher, C.P (name left out for blog). A squabble, if you will. Perhaps you were there. This so-called squabble, a term I use loosely here, briefly turned to the topic of the Miami Dolphins and, as with any conversation about the Dolphins does, inevitably led to Dan Marino. Now, when you talk about Dan Marino, those who lack enough knowledge pop up and say that Dan Marino is the greatest quarterback of all time. This is not to say that he [C.P.] lacked knowledge, but I believe for a brief moment, the thought of Joe Montana slipped his mind. I let him know it. Thus, our “squabble” was born. The classic Dan Marino vs. Joe Montana debate…one that’s been brewing in the annals of football land for the past ten or so years now. There were claims. There was evidence. And by the power invested in me, there will be assumptions.

The claims were simple. In one corner, you had C.P. whose claim was that Dan Marino was and still is the greatest quarterback of all time. In the other corner, you had me, who said that Joe Montana was and still is not only better than Marino, but the greatest quarterback of all time. C.P. came out swinging with his evidence, a mere stat that the Dolphins once went undefeated for an entire season (some nine years before Marino was even in the NFL, I should note). I fought back by asking, “How many Super Bowls did Marino win?” This is a reference to the fact that he, indeed, did not win any while Montana is probably at home buffing and shining his four Lombardi Trophies.

So let’s ask ourselves one question: What are the assumptions that can be made here? Perhaps C.P. feels that, as a Dolphins fan, he [or the team] doesn’t have much going for him, so he boasts about an event that happened some thirty-nine years ago as well as a man who threw all day long because the team had no running back (not literally “no running back,” but no player ever ran for more than 1200 yards with Marino at the helm). Another assumption is that I could be a 49ers fan and totally biased. I am forever a fan of the Kansas City Chiefs, but I know greatness when I see it and Montana had more of it than Marino, even if Joe did have a stint with the Chiefs. In the end, C.P. just didn’t have enough to support his argument. I think I would have made Stephen Toulmin proud. I used his theory of “Claim, Evidence, and Assumption.” More importantly, I won the argument.

American History Since 1865 3:30-4:45PM Tues-Thurs
I thought I was going to hate this class most of all. Opposite Government, it slowly climbed the ranks. So slowly in fact, that it ended up fourth out of five, but that’s not to say it sucked. I didn’t particularly like still having class in the semi-late afternoon. I suppose it was nice to go straight to dinner after class. Once I realized the teacher was reading from her notes online, I adapted and stopped playing attention in class. I passed all of the matching term quizzes with flying colors (with the exception with one, but that was because Katie decided to distract me. She is off the hook, however, because the lowest quiz score got thrown out).

I realize now that what I was told was untrue. It is kind of like when upper classmen try to scare you by saying you will be bullied and shoved in lockers. The professors actually do care about your well-being and put an emphasis on when they are available in their office. They suggested that we even call them on their phone if they don’t respond via email after a while. While that may not be the case everywhere, I’m glad it is at Ashford. A successful first semester of college, if I do say. Next semester should be even better. Four of six classes with the love of my life. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I never did read that book written by the man with big ears.

Categories: Uncategorized


November 7, 2011 Leave a comment

I made sure to look at her every single day. Everyday I walked into class, I would glance right at that girl who sat in the back third row before I turned around to sit in my seat in the row ahead of her. That would be my only interaction with her for nearly two months. Never did we speak words to each other. Never would she even look back. One day, I got in a phase of adding people from this new institution I attend on Facebook. There is no sense in staying content with the friends I have back home when I’m making friends here. It would seem that she caught on because I randomly got a friend request from her. Those one-second glances were apparently paying off. I accepted it within a heartbeat and immediately went on her profile. I looked at her pictures, information, and anything else we might have in common. Many of you might think this is stalker-ish, but come on…you know you’ve done it too.

My first Facebook interaction came in the form of not a poke which some of you might imagine, but in a like of a status. She had let the world know that she had got a new laptop. Going through those feelings months prior, I know it must have felt good, so I “liked” her status. A week later (and I just asked her to get confirmation), I randomly decided to send her a message.
Our first conversation.
It ended with me having a new number in my phone. I immediately texted her after that, despite the fact I knew she was in class (she told me in the conversation she was headed to Psychology…I don’t want you all to think I’m so creepy that I memorized her schedule before ever talking to her).

I knew I loved baseball. I never knew why it was my favorite sport until October 10. I was down in the lounge of my dorm, Durham. I was gearing up to watch the Detroit Tigers play the Texas Rangers in the ALCS. She was sitting at a table, doing homework, when she looked back at the TV. I happened to catch that glance, so I asked from afar, “You like baseball?”
My first words to her.
She proceeded to tell me that she is a Cardinals fan. I slowly made my way toward the table and asked if I could sit with her. We talked for about fifteen minutes before I had to go to a Career Lecture Series on business. I even told her I wish I could stay, but we need to do activity points for Freshman Experience, the class we share…the class where I get to glance at her. She didn’t see it, but I was ecstatic after that.


That night, she invited me to her friends , Brian and Jake’s, room. That night, the world, to me, seemed to stop. The others in the room, for some reason or another, all eventually left. That left her and I together to just talk. Talk we did.

We asked each other questions. Common questions that friends ask to get to know each other. On Friday night, October 14, we watched two movies. Sleepy Hollow was the first. The Nightmare Before Christmas was the second. I didn’t care much for the selections and neither should you. That’s not the point of this paragraph. She sat right next to me. Her hand laid so comfortably on the couch in-between her right leg and my left.
Such a lonely hand.
I did nothing for the first movie, but I told myself, God, and the voices in my head that I had to make a move during Nightmare. My hand ever so slowly (very slowly) inched towards hers before our fingers touched. It just felt right to go ahead and grab her hand. Our fingers interlocked. If only her other hand would have felt my heart at that moment. Both of us were very tired, so we rested our heads on each other. Her friends love these moments, which was evident in the picture they decided to take of us.

After the movie, being the gentleman I am, I walked her back to her room. Not letting go of her hand, of course. I gave her a hug goodnight and that was the start of something special.

The next night, Saturday, we went with her friends to the park and to eventually pick up another friend from work. She was intensely cold in the car, so, naturally, I wrapped my arms around her and she cuddled up next to me. As we were riding back to the school in the backseat, she looked at me with her beautiful eyes. I couldn’t help myself. I closed mine and kissed her. In the back of the car may not sound like the most romantic place, but I don’t care. It felt right to me.

Now today, eight days from a month since the start of this relationship, I lay in her bed while I type this, she works on homework for the class we have together, and we watch football, a sport we both love.

I think it’s interesting that neither of us formally asked the other to be their boyfriend or girlfriend, it just happened. Sort of like it’s meant to be.
At least that’s what I like to believe.

Categories: Uncategorized

Technology Makes Us Tlk Lik Dis

October 11, 2011 Leave a comment

U kno wat I tryin’ to say both in tha title nd in dis sentence. Isn’t that absurd? It’s like everyone wants to talk, write, and be how the characters are portrayed in Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. It’s no wonder high school and college students of today’s society are struggling immensely. Why is it that test scores are dropping and essay writing abilities are, simply put, egregious? Perhaps it has something to do with the evolution of technology. Better yet, it has something to do with allowing technology to take over. It’s a vitally bad sign when a teacher has to say before an essay something to the following extent:
”Please don’t use texting language in this essay.”

The fact that statement needs to be implied is a red light. I use to be believe it was a yellow light when I was in high school, but as I’ve grown to text more and become one with Facebook, as many of us have, it’s a red light. And many of us are driving right through it.

For those who believe I am blowing this out of proportion, let me give you some examples. I went on Facebook and on my wall, found the following statuses within five minutes. Thanks to those of you whose contributions I’ve decided to use.

”hurry an b the weekend!!!!!”
”If u in love might make you lose ya mind”
”Tryna get my cash rite got me living a fast life”

You get the idea. I am a firm believer and always will be that if we use proper English when texting, IMing, and everything else technology related, we’d do better in school. While I don’t have enough of a sample size, I know people that are struggling in school that have outlandish grammar issues. Then there are the people who type right (say, this blog?) that are doing just fine (say, myself?).

Some might say that it’s natural. Or easier. Whatever the case, there is another way to increase scholastic abilities. Using pens. Many think that using pens is a surefire way to cause errors. That’s just it. Over time, the more you use pens and the less you use pencils, you will lower your mistakes before, hopefully, no mistakes occur at all. In doing so, your abilities as a texter and IMer should reach a level that is no longer that of a second grader.

For those who take the time to capitalize their words, put commas in texts, and don’t morph words together, I commend you.
For those who don’t…
May lord have mercy on your soul.

Those Who Believe and Those Who Don’t

September 28, 2011 Leave a comment

Two hundred and seventy-one days into the 2011 year and I feel like I’ve gotten nowhere, when in reality, I’ve traveled over 8000 miles going to Green Bay twice and Iowa twice. Of course I speak metaphorically. Each year, on January 1, my New Year’s Resolution is to be a better person. To some, I’m achieving this with great success. While others believe I have failed more than ever this year. This fluctuation in differences cannot be tolerated in my life. Either everyone agrees that I’m doing great or everyone doesn’t.

I’ve had strain when it came to getting to know three different people, all for different reasons. One had too much strain and too many problems that built up. One couldn’t give me the alone time needed to get to know each other better. The third felt like we didn’t have enough in common to pursue anything. Now today, as I write this, it’s a near certainty that I won’t ever talk to any of them again. It’s amazing that you can get to know someone well enough to consider them a significant other or a close friend and then end up not being a couple, not being friends, and, the saddest one of all, not talking at all. This trio of girls introduced me to their friends, who  are some of the nicest people I’ve come to know. However, due to my mind (considered insane by some), I not only ruined my relationship and friendship with these girls, but even ruined it with some of these newfound friends.
These are the people that will tell you I’m failing.

My friends back home, those that have gotten to know me over a long period of time, know my likes, dislikes, and everything else. They know about my obscure references. They know the activities and events that make me happy. My friends back home know this. My parents tell me they love me and are proud of me. My sister asks questions about how college is going. My friends ask the same thing. They randomly call and talk to me. Their texts and jokes make my day. As a result of all of this, I am nice. These things keep me going in a positive light. At the end of the day, no matter what happens here, I know there are those out there who care about me, even if this group is two thousand miles away.
These are the people that will tell you I’m succeeding.

I’ve come to realize that this is what you get and what you pay for when you move far away. Many say that leaving everything behind gives you a chance to start over, which is a good thing. It’s only good if you make something of it. It’s only six weeks into the school year. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so hard on myself.

I have ninety-four days left to change the minds of those here.
Plenty, if you ask me.

“Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.”– Groucho Marx