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Happy Chinese New Year!!

I know it's a little late, but I had to post it. Besides, I figured out how to upload pictures and text from my phone, directly to the blog.

Negate Murphy's Law

Ok, so the last post I was working on was happy. It was all puppies and flowers... it was about how this past Valentine's Day was the best Valentine's Day that I've had in YEARS. Well, that all went down the toilet on Friday, the 15th. Yes, that's right, literally 24 after after I had written the aforementioned post.
So, let's get at it, shall we?
Friday I go over to the Galleria's house (the boy who I was seeing) and he and I and his roommate (who I am friends with from OU) are hanging out, drinking wine and then we go over to bar 851 and meet some more people out. Everything is lovely, everyone is having a good time and then we decide to go to another bar which we shall call Shovak's. Same deal, everyone having fun, the Galleria and I are playing pool and winning. Life is good. All of a sudden I get this "Can I talk to you?" from the Galleria and so I say "Of course you can."
So we go outside and we're standing in the freezing cold and he says to me,
"I have to be straight with you. Megan is coming home from GA and I know how you feel about her but that is where my heart lies. I'm sorry. I feel awful."
"You should feel awful" is what I come back with. I was furious at this point because we are still out with his friends and I can't leave because I didn't drive. "It's fine" I say. "I don't feel anyway about Megan Jones because I haven't talked to her in 10 years and she never crosses my mind. You should choose your choice and be done with it."
Well, then he goes into this stupid tangent about how he wants to still be friends and that it's not me, I'm great, it's just that he loves her. I said "We don't need to be friends. We weren't friends before this and I don't need you to be my friend after this. I already have lots of friends." And I turned around and walked inside. We left right after that because someone got sick and on the ride home, I texted John P. Balling.
Once I got home, I was still fuming and decided to make a cranberry and vodka but it tasted more like a vodka and vodka but whatever. It was doing exactly want I wanted it to. It got to be right around 2 and I still hadn't heard from Mr. Balling so I was ready to go pass out when, magically, the phone rang. It was him and I was happy. He was over in a flash and walked through the door and all my bad feelings went away. I was eating brie with my vodka and vodka and so he had some cheese and I made him a drink and the next thing I know, I wake up in my bed with him next to me. I go to survey the damage that had occured in the other room the night before and boy were there some interesting things I found. My glasses were in a wheel of brie, there was brie smashed into the couch, there were crackers all over the floor, there were clothes everywhere... it was quite a sight.
I grabbed the advil and climbed back into bed and asked Balling how he felt and he groaned so I gave him some meds. We slept til noon. We showered and went to lunch and the rest is history.
The moral of the story here is: Moo 2007 has her good points. Sometimes yum-yucks can be the end of you but what a way to go!

Blank

Feb. 12th

I'm so disillusioned with everything lately... my faith is waning. It's too bad really and unfortunate that I'm unable to pinpoint the cause of this feeling or why I keep feeling this way. I'm so tired of all of it. There's nothing in my life right now that's making me content, let alone happy. I've been toying with the idea of moving back to Spain. That was the last time I remember being happy, enjoying life. I know that memories are what you make them and of course I remember the not so great parts too (i.e. drying my hair with my heater, Jason the wicked minger Brit) but I loved being there, being part of the scenery there.
I'm so tired of the materialism which I too get caught up in when I'm here; it's really impossible not to. I'm so tired of the criticisms and judgments. I'm tired of the one night stands, and the wanting of things that I shouldn't want. I'm tired of the weather, of the melancholy that has become my life. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not living up to my potential. And I'm so tired of being tired of all this.
People are strange creatures and it's so hard to not be influenced by people, for better or worse. My sense of self is nonexistent. And that, my friends, is a scary thing. To not know yourself in ways that you use to isn't a pleasant feeling. The oddest part of this is that my outward attitude isn't all that awful. I find myself looking forward to things and laughing but I feel like I'm sorta just going through the motions, so that others aren't suspicious or accusing. Nothing is worse than having people in your life become suspicious of you and then just sitting back and waiting for you to prove them right. Realize please, that these are just my thoughts and maybe I shouldn't use this particular forum to express them but c'est la vie, no? And so I leave with this poem from the fabulous Pablo Neruda titled "Walking Around"...

It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie
houses
dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.

The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse
sobs.
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.
The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,
no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators.

It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nails
and my hair and my shadow.
It so happens I am sick of being a man.

Still it would be marvelous
to terrify a law clerk with a cut lily,
or kill a nun with a blow on the ear.
It would be great
to go through the streets with a green knife
letting out yells until I died of the cold.

I don't want to go on being a root in the dark,
insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
going on down, into the moist guts of the earth,
taking in and thinking, eating every day.

I don't want so much misery.
I don't want to go on as a root and a tomb,
alone under the ground, a warehouse with corpses,
half frozen, dying of grief.

That's why Monday, when it sees me coming
with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel,
and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the
night.

And it pushes me into certain corners, into some moist
houses,
into hospitals where the bones fly out the window,
into shoeshops that smell like vinegar,
and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin.

There are sulphur-colored birds, and hideous intestines
hanging over the doors of houses that I hate,
and there are false teeth forgotten in a coffeepot,
there are mirrors
that ought to have wept from shame and terror,
there are umbrellas everywhere, and venoms, and umbilical
cords.

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes,
my rage, forgetting everything,
I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic
shops,
and courtyards with washing hanging from the line:
underwear, towels and shirts from which slow
dirty tears are falling.

Thank you's

Thank you for all your effort.
Thank you for doing things for me just so you could hold them over my head in the future.
Thank you for being so unbelievably selfish. (Looks like you're following through on your New Year's Resolution after all.)
Thank you for pushing away the one person who would have defended you through it all.
Thank you for making me realize that I don't ever want to act like you.
Thank you for helping me to grow up.
Thank you for trying to ruin my 27th birthday.
Thank you for the goddamn cupcakes.
Thank you for getting mad at everyone because you ordered $50 worth of sushi.
Thank you for your irrationalities and lies.
Thanks for showing me how truly spoiled rotten only children can be.
Thanks for cheating yourself right out of my life.
Thank you for the memories.
Thanks for showing me that there is WAY more in life than owning a Louis Vuitton or two.
Thank you for proving everybody right.
Thank you for all that and for exiting my life without an ounce of grace.

A Letter to My Niece

Dear Emma,

Even though you won't be able to read this for several years (even as advanced as we all think know you are), I wanted to just say thank you. Thank you for showing a family that was incapable of showing feelings or emotion, that it was okay to let someone know that you love them. Thank you for bringing a family that seemed to be slowly moving in their own separate directions, closer than ever. Thank you for bringing a smile to my face every time I see you. Thank you for making every bad day just a little bit better for everyone around you, with just the sound of your laugh. Thank you for bringing the joy and innocence back to Christmas. Most of all, thank you for showing someone who never was able to figure out what 'love' meant, the true meaning of love.

Before you were born, our family never shared our feelings with each other. It was always just assumed that we loved each other but it was never expressed in words or actions. When you were born, it was the first time I saw my dad (your Grandpa) cry. He didn't even cry when any of his own children were born, but when he saw you for the first time he cried. Not a day goes by that my mom (your Grandma), doesn't say how much she loves you. Until you, I never once heard the words "I love you" come out of either of my brothers' mouths (your dad and uncle). Yet with you, they say it every time they are around you. Your reach doesn't end there either. As my generation has gotten older, no one seems to have any time to visit each other much. When we were young your cousins in NY and Maryland would come out every summer, but over the past couple years everyone has school or work. However, since you've been born, they've all come out to see you. Family ties that were slowly deteriorating have become strong again because you were born.

As for me, I knew the second your Uncle Brandon called me to tell me that you were being born that I would be wrapped around your finger. The first time I saw you, you weren't even the size of a loaf of bread, yet the feelings and emotions I felt when I saw you were more than I had ever experienced. One thing you should know about your Uncle Bryan, is that he has always been intrigued by human nature and how we think and feel. However, as much as he tried to discover what it meant to love someone unconditionally, he was never able to figure it out--to feel it himself. Growing up in a family that just assumed we loved one another but hesitated to express it, it was difficult to define what it meant to "love" someone. Within the first week you were born, I suddenly realized what it meant to love. To love someone unconditionally, is to love them almost more than yourself. To become sick to your stomach just at the very thought of something bad happening to them. To know that you would do absolutely anything to protect them from harm's way. It is putting their well-being in front of your own. This is what I have come to realize is true, unconditional love. It is the greatest feeling in the world, and it is what makes life worth living. Never settle for anything less.

A friend recently claimed that childbirth is far from a miracle, that it is a foul and disgusting event. She obviously doesn't know just how much you have done for me and this family, just by being born. You are the closest thing to a miracle this family will ever experience. Thank you, Emma. Thank you for coming into all of our lives and filling our hearts with the love and joy that was always slightly missing.

Love,
Your Uncle Bryan

The Pseudo-Science of MSN.com

Since the print media is all but dead, I, like most of my generation get my news from online sources such as MSN.com. For any of you unfamiliar with MSN, their homepage is typically littered with recent news articles ranging from world news to sports and entertainment. However, every so often they like to throw in some "groundbreaking" research study into the headlines. Typically, these "studies" are health related and tend to claim results that are basically meant to instill some type of fear in the general American public, so that we have something more to worry about other than our Caramel lattes and designer clothing.

For instance, a couple weeks ago there was an article that discussed a study that claimed findings that adolescent girls that hung out with male friends were more likely to drink alcoholic beverages. The study was done by a woman and failed to report whether or not there was also an increase in the likelihood for males to drink when in the company of females. If this truly were a scientific study they would report all of the results rather than just the results that suit their desire for a headline. I would venture to say that adolescents that hangout with members of the opposite sex are both more likely to drink more than those that only hangout with members of the same sex. Why didn't this article report that? Needless to say, at the end of the day, when I tried to find the article again, it was no where to be found on the MSN site. Hopefully, someone realized that it was a poorly written article on poorly run research. In my personal opinion I think it was an article written by some mom that wanted to find some excuse as to why her 16 year old daughter was a huge drunk slutbag.

Ok, now for today's article on how drinking games lead to high blood alcohol levels. Researchs at San Diego State University and Michigan went to college parties and gave people breathalizer tests. From their results, they found that people that played drinking games, attended theme parties, and/or attending a party with other drunk people were all positively correlated with a higher BAC. They also reported that they were surprised to find that "women drank more heavily than males at themed parties." First off, let me be the first to say, congratulations nerds you attempted to publish a story about alcohol to seem cool and fit in. Unfortunately, anyone that has ever drank and attended a party in college (on the basis of fun and not to do a pseudo-scientific study) could tell you that all of your findings are not earth shattering. People play drinking games to get drunker faster, this is not science. Really, people get drunker when people around them get drunker, holy shit!! This concept can be read about in any one of thousands of introduction to psychology text books. It's called peer pressure. You might also look under group think. As for the finding that girls drink more "heavily" than males at parties, there is no discussion about how this finding was measured. All the article says is that researchs surveyed party-goers and gave breathalyzers. If they came to this conclusion because girls "reported" their number of drinks, subtract 2-3 from the reported number and come back with your findings. If they came to this finding because girls recorded higher BACs, go back and redo your statistics to account for weight, size, and food intake. This study is called science, yet it fails to further this body of research. The researchers claim that this study is important because previous studies focused on individual consumption and recall... Great, you still didn't provide any information that over half of the American population didn't already know. Finally, they go on to say that they hope to enlarge the study to include bar settings... I'll save you the trouble, drinking games are not allowed in bars, people that go to bars in large groups will have a high BAC than the poor schmo that goes to the bar by himself, guys spend more money than girls at a bar but this does not correlate with the number of drinks each takes in because guys are stupid and we buy girls drinks. There, I just saved you thousands of dollars and hundreds of pointless hours.

In conclusion, my major problem with these studies, is their ultimate uselessness. It is pretty safe to say that thousands of dollars were spent on these studies, many hours were spent collecting and analyzing the data, and yet they provide no information that will help us in any way. What, are girls going to stop hanging out with boys so they are less likely to drink alcohol? Are people going to stop playing drinking games because they will have a high BAC? The answer to all of these questions is, NO. So why carry-out and publish studies like these that are useless. This is a general problem I have found with academic "science". Too often these studies are being carried out by graduate students and professors, who's idea of reality is sitting in their office on a friday night reading journal articles written by people exactly like them on topics exactly like they're studying. Social skills are a rare commodity in the graduate education level, which leads to a complete lack of real-world knowledge and experience. Is it any wonder that, on average, theoretical or basic research takes 7 years to be applied in a practical setting, if it's applied at all? Coming from someone who has been in the process of writing his thesis for the past 3 years, I should know just how useless this research is. Trust me, my thesis provides no useful contribution to the real-world and everyday life. Yet, when I finish it my colleagues will presumably praise it as a good piece of research. It is not. It's a piece of crap. In the end, all that comes about is research that is completely devoid of any common sense and usefullness. If you want to do something usefull, develop an alcohol that loosens everyone up and allows everyone to have a good time without time traveling, developing temporary Down's Syndrome, and generally making poor life decisions.

2008 is gonna be great!

Ok, so now we are settling into a new year and I'm feeling extremely optimistic. My 2007 ended with a bang and 2008 came in a completely unexpected way. (God bless the city of Chicago!)
I feel like some changes are going to be made in my life... I think I was obsessed with living up to this reputation I have (or think I have) of being a crazy person. Well, after watching Britney Spears unravel (and No, I don't think that she and I are ANYTHING alike but still...) I decided that I was choosing choices that weren't necessarily making me happy or content or that were really positive in any possible way. It was reflected in my attitude and my going out habits and some others things that I chose to take part of. Enough is enough. Crap, I mean, I'm in my late 20's! I'll be 30 in 3 short years and it's time to act like it. Now, with that being said, I'm not going to become this schoolmarm and never go out or never drink or anything like that but (and I'm proud to report) I have been implementing the "Going Out Rules" and they're working! I was out for 3 nights in Chicago (well, technically 2 but who's counting?) and I was well behaved and had a BLAST! So, obviously it can be done and I do have at least a little self-control/ will power.
I'm also cutting my losses with certain people, actually just one person, which sorta stinks because I think the world of him but, alas, mama didn't raise no chump so I'm just getting go. I'm learning that people are they way they are, esp. at this stage of the game and no matter how much you care for someone and on whatever level it is that you do care for them, they are who they are and nothing you can say or do will change that. But thanks for the "o" faces and the "lessons". It was a wild ride. I wish you great things.
Now, as for me, someone new has waltzed into my little life and made me very happy. I realize that I've only known him for a week and things are moving at a fevered pace, but I'm satisfied and I feel like I'm in a good place. Very healthy, if you will. He's coming to visit and I'm nervous, excited and slightly hesitant but you gotta try, right?

So let's recap...

NYE 2008 was my best New Year Eve's EVER!!!

Let me just give you a clue as to what I mean...

"Dude, go tire her out with your spastic movements."

"I mean, how can you trust your roommate if you don't know what his penis tastes like?"

"There's a drinking consultant AND a life coach!"

"AY oh, I'm tired of usin' technology."

"Wait, did you shower with Stulburg last year?"

"Blue!" "Dude, my name is Moo."

"The Lone Wolf speaks."

"Robbing boners."

"Let's get weird."

"I'll have a... you guys have small penises... #2."

"Why did you order AIDS?" "Because I am a huge asshole."

"Moo's a pretty good self promoter."

"Tell him Jake.............Mazursky is looking fer 'em."

"Happy New Year, Mother Fuckface."

The R of R, part II

Ok, so Stoney's, the country bar was very entertaining. There were ALL kinds there. I mean, some dude with a MOhawk, one or two black folks and a bunch of wannabe rednecks. I felt right at home.

We started slinging back drinks and a $1 a piece, can you really blame me? Julie, the maid of honor who God bless her, looks like Ms. Munster + 300 lbs., told me that the owners of the bar were giving her and Jen a bull ride. Well, that did it. I was like, "Wait. There's a bull? I gotta ride it. Where is it? Wait. They don't like announce that people are gonna ride it do they? I gotta ride it.") After 3 vodka tonics and a few shots, I felt brave enough to dance... It was a hoot. I bit it once and then I rocked it as usual. Then it was time for el toro. Now, for some reason this has been something that I have been DYING to try for sometime. I'm not sure if it's because I think I'd be really good at it or if it's because it's a sure fire way to have everyone in the bar look at you... either way, it worked because I'm probably on youtube now. Anyway, I rode that mother like it was my job and the only reason that I had to jump off was because I broke a damn nail. It effin' hurt too. I worked that bull over. Golden Vag. Nuff said.

There were no lines for the bathroom at this bar either which really intrigued me. There was only one bathroom too. I wish we had that kinda of technology in Columbus. It would do wonders for Bar Louie.