Letter to the Editor

Dear Orlando Sentinel,

I’m a college student at the University of Central Florida taking Composition I. On September 29, 2004, two speakers involved with the People for Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) presented information on being vegan. I learned that a vegan is someone who doesn’t eat meat, diary products, or eggs (they also explained that vegans don’t wear clothes made from animal products, either). Their plea seemed understandable enough – they wanted us to be vegans, too. They kicked off the presentation with cute anecdotes about their lives, Christian influences in veganism, and examples of celebrity vegans and vegetarians to lure in the naïve listeners. However, it was going to take some real evidence and undeniable truths to convince me to become a vegan – evidence and truth that simply didn’t exist.

Thanks to Hurricane Jeanne, there was no school Monday. I knew that we were supposed to have speakers come in and talk on Monday, but I had no idea that they would be part of the PETA group. I figured that the speakers were going to have to be rescheduled, but I didn’t know when they could come in again. I was surprised to see that they were ready and rearing to go on Wednesday with their vegetarian booklets and priceless smiles. I sat in class and listened to the over-rehearsed speech between Bob and Karen (names have been changed to protect the vegans). I say “over-rehearsed speech” because the transitions between the two were flawless – right where Bob would leave off, Karen would take center stage in the classroom and pick right up. I listened intently, however, with an open mind (as requested by Bob and Karen) because I tend to have a pretty open view to the world. And when I say “open view,” I mean that I will listen to one side of an argument, and then go research the other side – which is exactly what I did.

Immediately after the lecture, I walked out of class and went to an on-campus restaurant for lunch – the Steak Escape. Then I went back to my dorm and hopped online. I browsed a series of medical and personal homepages and discovered some shocking information.

Through their speech, Bob and Karen told us what meat and dairy companies have conditioned us to believe. Things such as, “fish are good for you because they contain omega-3 fatty acids,” and “milk builds strong bones.” They attempted to disprove these comments by saying that you can get omega-3 fatty acids from many vegetable and soy products. Furthermore, they said that drinking milk can lead to increased chances of osteoporosis. Though my research, I found that yes, you can obtain plant-based omega-3 fatty acids. However, the conversion rate for the plant-based acids is extremely low, i.e., our bodies don’t retain the acids nearly as well.

Meat eaters, they said, are more prone to cognitive diseases such as Alzheimer’s disease. They also said that every vitamin, mineral, and protein combination you need is available in plant products. While this is true, conversion rates are, again, very low. Vegans and vegetarians are highly prone to vitamin B12 deficiency – vitamin B12 is essential for optimal brain functioning. In 2000, a study was done by Dutch researchers that showed children who were on a vegan and vegetarian diets from ages six to thirteen had extreme vitamin B12 deficiency. Compared to omnivorous dieters the same ages, vegan and vegetarian children performed significantly worse on tests measuring fluid intelligence, spatial ability, and short-term memory. Vitamin B12 deficiency can also give way to a fatal condition called anemia. Various other vitamins, like vitamin A, are also not attainable from vegetarian or vegan diets.

Bob and Karen were also nice enough to share with us some misleading information about meat eating being a major cause of osteoporosis. The studies that were done that showed that too much protein caused osteoporosis were not done using actual meat products, rather “fractioned protein powers” and “isolated amino acids.” Recent studies have shown that eating meat contributes to stronger bone density in men and women. Moreover, being a vegetarian or vegan has been linked to osteoporosis in women.

They continued to explain how humans have evolved as vegetarians and how the body’s physiology is designed to be herbivorous. For example, they compared our side winding jaws and flat teeth to that of many other herbivores. They failed, however, to explain why our stomach produces hydrochloric acid – an acid not found in a single herbivores stomach.

One couple consulted their doctor about their upcoming child, and the doctor tried to convince them that everything would be just fine. Worried about her diet, the wife decided to eliminate meat from her diet and eat vegetarian-approved products and soy products. The couple had a miscarriage. After going to another doctor, Stephen Byrnes PhD, he was astonished to find that the wife had almost completely eliminated meat from her diet. He sent her home with a new diet plan – to include meat – and a bottle of vitamin A. In November 2000, they gave birth to their first child – a girl.

This is an extreme example, I’m aware. I’m simply writing this article to shed some light on the myths of vegetarianism and vegan diets. If you do your own research, you’re bound to find a wealth of information on both sides.

Regards,

Jesse Chapman
UCF Freshmen

Cleaning Ms. Rosa

What's going on in my life? That's a very good question. One that requires a lot of patience to answer, but at the same time -- outlandish humor and inappropriate sexual comments.

1. Outlandish Humor: I'll be purchasing a digital recorder from BestBuy just for the purpose of recording one week of classes and then returning it to the store. I feel like a Rebel.
2. Inappropriate Sexual Comments: Yeah, I'd have sex with the cleaning lady just so she'd replace the light bulb in the bathroom. I feel like a Walsh.

Speaking of light bulbs in the bathroom, there isn't. So, every time I have to use the bathroom, I take my trusty mini-Maglight® with me. This morning when I took a shower, I had minor difficulty figuring everything out. Dripping wet, blinded by the darkness, searching for my pants but sticking my hand in the toilet instead, I become frustrated and decided to call maintenance.

Me_Me_Me: Yeah, hi. The light in our bathroom doesn't work, so we can't see anything.
BlindChildrenAreMoreHelpful: Has the cleaning lady come by yet?
Me_Me_Me: Oh, I'm not sure. I don't believe so.
BlindChildrenAreMoreHelpful: Just wait for Rosa -- you're in Apollo, right?
Me_Me_Me: Yes.
BlindChildrenAreMoreHelpful: ...Just wait for Rosa to come by, she'll take good care of you.
Me_Me_Me: Alright. Thanks.
BlindChildrenAreMoreHelpful has signed off.

From the moment Rosa walked in, I was in love. Her small, white, Golden Girls-style shoes. The short, black hair that frizzed about her head. And her face -- small, big, and medium all at the same time. She was, without a doubt, ugly.

Me_Me_Me: Hi. The light in the bathroom doesn't work.
VacuumMaster180: Diga el mantenimiento!
VacuumMaster180 has jumped out the window.

I don't know Spanish, but I knew what mantenen..mantence...mantencememo meant. In fact, I went ahead and added it to the college dictionary (my own little mental dictionary of words that aren't real). After she left, I decided to call maintenance again to see what I actually had to do to get someone to put in a working light bulb. Unfortunately, maintenance told me that they had so many other important jobs to do because of Hurricane Jeanne that they couldn't take the time to write down a work order. Instead, they said, I should take a trip to my RA and tell him to put in a work order. They tried to convince me that it'd get done fast this way.

Of course, I'm having this conversation on the phone in the common room in the midst of the EVIL and Kurt Douglas. None of them could take the time to get any of this fixed.

Useless.

So, of course I decided be the mature one.

I didn't go to the RA.

Like I'm about to go out and Communicate with someone on this campus. LOL! Good one. I can handle the mood lighting darkness in the bathroom. Let's see how long they can hold out. Heh, heh, heh...

So, after laughing to myself about even considering going to the RA, I called the UPS hotline to get some money back for an Amazon.com book I ordered. Long story short, I had to drive to the central UPS store about forty-five minutes away in order to obtain my book. I'm not liking that. So I call, and the customer service representative exchanges some perverted remarks with me on the phone, i.e., your sister slept with my dog, which led me to hang up on him. So, I'll e-mailed Amazon to see what they could do about it. I'm sure we'll figure this out eventually.

Afterwards, I embarked to first period -- College Algebra Discussion with Wu. Wu is the reason I want to get the digital recorder. He freaks out sometimes when people ask him questions. He'll go off on this crazy example problem that has nothing to do with anything anyone is talking about which makes me think of the time we asked him to explain problem thirteen and he began to explain about pyroclastic flow or some garbage and everyone just slowly walked out of the classroom.

Well, it went something like that, anyway...

Current grades:
English paper: 103%
Math test: 80%
Psychology test: 76%

Psychology is hard. I don't know what's happening tomorrow. We were supposed to have a guest speaker in English on Monday, but...we didn't have school Monday. Oh well, only time will tell!

My English Paper

I feel totally unprepared for my math test tomorrow.

On the lighter side of the news, the judyhoof.com Gallery and Wallpapers section has been updated. The Gallery has some new pictures in the Summertime section, and an entirely new section called, "Collegetime," which, includes a few pictures of me and my dorm.

I think I've discovered that my alarm clock will stop after you hit the snooze button so many times. That's definitely not a good thing -- seeing how I like to do that at least ten or so times before waking up in the morning (either that, or Kurt Douglas thinks it's funny to come over here and turn it off. I will find out sooner or later and he will go down). So, of course, Wednesday was yet another day that math class didn't seem that important to my sleeping brain. The weird thing about that is that I randomly wake up at 9:30 AM. That's right when the class ends. Now, can anyone explain that?

Nevertheless, Wu Jing (they put their names backwards in the ancient Mayan culture) taught an interesting question and answer class today. It was good to prepare for the upcoming test tomorrow. The only problem is that I still can understand that man. Every time I go to his class, it seems to get worse. His accent becomes more foreign, and that doesn't make the math any easier to understand.

I had a sudden desire to go to BestBuy today after class and take a look at some digital audio recorders. You know, like the old fashion tape recorders that kids would bring to class, right? However, their objective was usually to listen to the lecture on tape and relearn some of the material. While that's a totally noble reason to record a lecture, my reason is so I could post them online. I think it'd be very interesting for everyone to have access to a free college education (and furthermore, a chance to hear the wondrous English inabilities of Kung-Fu-Wu). However, upon arrive to the store and seeing the $109 digital audio recorder positioned every-so-purchaseably on the shelf, I decided to think about it some more before making this purchase. So, maybe in the future, kids. In the meantime, I can still record things that are happening in my dorm room via my USB Logitech Microphone (which I may just take back to BestBuy -- I think the one I have at home is better, anyway).

My English paper is due tomorrow, and I want a chance for everyone to read it. However, since everyone does not have Microsoft Word, I figured I'd just post it here online for you. So, if you'd like to read it, feel free. If you don't care about it, skip down past it. If you don't want to read this journal entry anymore, go eat some babies, or something.

The Day I Stuck a Math Compass in my Math Teacher’s Eye

In it, I didn’t really plan to kill my math teacher. In fact, it was just this random thing. I remember sitting down at my desk, plotting out every detail in my mind. I knew that it was going to be crazy, but I wanted it to be funny, too. I didn’t want anyone to take me too seriously; although, looking back, very few people found it funny. Maybe it was the way in which I killed her. I found it apropos – a math compass for a math teacher. In fact, I remember laughing when I decided that’s how she should die. Any other day of the year, I would have walked into my middle school with a normal element of the classroom – today, it was this weapon that would change my life forever. Looking back, I didn’t even think twice about what I had done until after I was in the principal’s office; still, I didn’t realize what was happening when I walked into the office and saw a police officer standing next to the principal’s desk. The principal’s eyes were screaming at me for what I had done; she remained silent. Before I could even catch my breath, another police officer walks in, forcing me into the office – closing the door behind me. I didn’t understand. They were treating me like a criminal. All I did was write a story.

You could blame my English teacher if you wanted to. It was she who assigned me this fateful creative writing assignment. The teacher instructed us to listen to different types of music and see how it affects your writing style. With music blasting through the air, my fingers began typing. The plot of the story was nonexistent, the locations were fabricated, and the people in the story were friends, celebrities, and characters from movies – and my eighth grade math teacher, who, offhandedly, was murdered in the story. Nevertheless, the story’s randomness created a unique style of humor that could be considered anything but serious. When I finished writing the story, I printed out a few copies of the three-page weapon, eager to have all my friends at school read it.

“Next, I had to go to the bathroom. I won’t get into details, but right when I had to go, Gloria Estefan jumped out of my toilet.”

I walked through the front doors of Buddy Taylor Middle School, opened my backpack, and passed out my story to a few of my friends. Before I knew it, the story was being passed around the school. “What’s that you got there?” Mrs. Donchez, our school guidance counselor, walked up to someone in the hallway who had a copy of the story. I’m surprised she didn’t follow that up with, “Do you have any idea how fast you were walking?” Or perhaps, “School identification and registration, please.” Mrs. Donchez reached across the kids face and whipped the story out of his hands.

Now, if Mrs. Donchez would have done this to someone in the real world, she and Christopher Reeve would have something in common. However, in the public school system, you have few rights as a citizen. Let’s take the second amendment of the Constitution as an example: the right to bear arms. Now, we all know that there are perfectly legitimate reasons to ban guns from school – Mr. Eric Harris and Mr. Dylan Klebold from Columbine High School have demonstrated this point nicely for us. However, we find that schools have tried to eliminate freedom of speech – this is a constant debate among many high school newspapers.

“’I am invincible,’ He shouts. Unexpectedly, his jet pack catches fire, and explodes – killing him. In the place where the explosion occurred, a dark figure stands. The figure flips onto the patio of Alex’s apartment. The figure is Darth Vader.”

Did I mention that the story was blatantly fictional?

From Mrs. Donchez’s reaction to the story, you would have concluded that Eric, Dylan, and I had something in common. While the principal was being notified, I was heading to my math class. While I was working on problem sixteen, the police were entering the building. While the teacher was talking, the annoying double-beep of the intercom interrupted him: “Mr. Tutak, please send Jesse Chapman to Mrs. DePalma’s office.” On cue, the class let out a collective, “ooooohh,” suggesting that I was about to get into real big trouble. Of course, no one ever really thinks you’re going to get in trouble unless you did something really obvious – like put a gun in your locker and forget to shut the door, or bring gasoline to school and set fire to the cafeteria. Since I couldn’t remember doing either of those two things, I assumed I was being called down to be commended for my perfect attendance, numerous community service activities, or my excellent news anchor smile on the school announcements.

Mrs. DePalma, our principal, and I knew each other well for various reasons. I was the school news anchor every day on the televisions. I didn’t receive a single referral or detention that entire year – which entitled me to attend the Universal Studios end of the year trip. Also, I was one of the few students who came to school every day and received the prestigious Perfect Attendance certificate. This means that you get to hang a paper on your wall for years to come that says your behavior was consistent for one-hundred eighty days in a row, that you take no chances in life, and that you are a loser. I didn’t date much in middle school.

However, back then, that award meant a lot to me. As did my job as a news anchor. As did the end of the year school trip.

The visit to the principal’s office was anything but congenial with two police officers standing guard. I still wasn’t aware of why I was in trouble, but I knew I was. It’s a feeling that everyone’s experienced at least once in your life – perhaps from getting pulled over from going over the speed limit – you just know that you did something wrong, but you aren’t aware of what. This is exactly how I felt. I remember my smile immediately fading away, and everything slowing down. I could feel my heart beating faster now, ready to explode through my chest. The screams in the hallway from late students suddenly became background noise in my movie. I walked through the doors of her office, surrounded by the two officers. My hand slid across the back of the leather chair in her spacious office, and I immediately sat down.

“Hello,” I said.

“Jesse, I think you know why I’ve called you down,” she cut through the conversation starters.

“Actually, I have no idea.”

“We found your story.”

“What?” I had heard her correctly, but this didn’t make any sense. I just had no idea where this was going.

She continued, “And we read the section where Mrs. Ortmayer was killed. We going to have to consider this a threat to the teacher’s life, and we’re going to have to prosecute you for attempted murder. You’re going away for a very long time, Mr. Chapman.”

Alright, so she didn’t say that. But the conversation didn’t go so well. We were friends, Mrs. DePalma and I, but I knew that she had a job to do, and I could see the cause for concern – no one wants Gloria Estefan jumping out of toilets or Darth Vader using mystical powers. Do I think a ten day suspension was overkill? With the death of the teacher in the story, they felt that they had to inflict severe punishment. Did they assume that I planned on actually killing the teacher? Possibly. Did I assume that anyone reading the story would have taken it as serious as the Bill Clinton presidency? Of course. I see now that both of our assumptions were wrong.

I was told to wait in the hallway while my mother was called. Wait in the hallway? This was my opportunity to kill my teacher if I wanted to. Obviously, they didn’t consider me a threat. This whole morning was filled with inconsistency and overreaction. Walking out of her office, I was furious. Maybe they would have suspended me for twenty days, had I actually killed her.

Sitting here writing this now, I laugh, thinking of how amazingly absurd the punishment was. The suspension was only the beginning, too. When I came back to school, I walked into the media center hoping to find some friendly faces; instead, I was told to leave and that I wouldn’t be needed for the announcements any more. They told me that Bobby Malesra would be taking over for me. The kid had to sit on phone books to even be seen by the camera. Then, they told me that the suspension automatically gave me a referral; consequently, I was not able to go on the end of the year trip. And if that wasn’t enough to make me want to break down and cry, I was informed that this suspension counted against my perfect attendance, and I would not receive the certificate (my life was never the same after this).

When I was in eighth grade, I wrote a story about my math teacher being stabbed in the eye with a math compass. This action caused me to lose many of my privileges at school, but also to doubt the validity of the freedom of speech in the public school system. A question I’m often asked by others is, “If you could do it all over again, would you have still written the story – knowing what the consequences would have been?” I laugh. Of course I would have written my story. I just wouldn’t have brought it to school.

And that's the paper. I'm hoping that my English teacher will enjoy it. Of course, the final copy is double-spaced; the length comes to five and a third pages. We shall see how good it is soon, I suppose. Questions, comments, corrections (grammatical, content)? I'm happy to hear everything, positive or negative. Please contact me.

I'll of course post my grades when I get them. Wish me luck on my math test!

Movies and Terrorism

This picture shows President George Bush getting off his private helicopter, getting ready to make a public announcement.

No terrorists attacks so far.

Maybe tomorrow.

There's nothing better like a turkey and cheese sandwich with some mayonnaise (real mayonnaise, not that miracle whip slime) to start the day right. I filled my shatterproof pop-top drinking cup with some apple juice and started drinking away. Oh my, how the taste of food in the morning just wakes you up so good and tastes so new. It's like you're eating for the first time in hours.

Did I mention that I stopped drinking so much soda? Yeah, I used to drink probably about twenty a day (I am in no way joking), or probably more. But, people tell me that it's bad for you, and I don't want to do things that are bad for me, so instead, I choose to do things that are good for me, i.e., apple juice, Gatorade (which I hear mixed reviews on if it's good for you or not), LEMONADE (which is still not in the fridge yet), and, well, water, eventually. I'm hoping to wean myself off all this garbage. I really love eating healthy. I buy everything either light or low fat. Yes, I can taste a difference in the food products, and no, it may not taste as good. However, if you eat if for a
Wanna hear an extremely funny sound clip of a comedian talking about September 11, 2004?
while, you tend to forget how the fat-packed version tastes and you like the new ones. If you just force yourself to buy it at the store, and you just eat it, there's little you can do about it. I've never been one for addiction -- except maybe soda -- so when I start changing my diets, I'm pretty easy-going. But that's not to say I'm not a picky eater. My goodness, how I love Italian food (don't we all?). I think I could live purely off Italian food -- namely pizza, kids. Ah, the joys of food.

To be perfectly honest in a very, "please-don't-feel-bad-for-me" sort of way, I sat in my room all day. I went out a few times to go to the bathroom, but, other than that, nope. I sat here, eating, typing, working on some various projects I had to do. So, there's nothing good to post in this entry. However, I did finish my list of my favorite one hundred movies of all time. The thing about this list is that it could be wrong. I may be forgetting a movie, not thinking of one, or simply didn't think too hard about which movies I liked over the other ones. I tried to get some varying genres in there, and that can cause problems. But, for all intents and purposes, here is the list:

My 100 Favorite Movies
(updated 10/7/04)

1. About Schmidt
2. Airplane!
3. A.I.
4. Aliens vs. Predator
5. Anger Management
6. Austin Powers: Goldmember
7. Back to the Future Part II
8. Beautiful Mind, A
9. Beauty and the Beast
10. Bicentennial Man
11. Big Fish
12. Bruce Almighty
13. Cast Away
14. Catch Me If You Can
15. Chicago
16. Collateral
17. Contact
18. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
19. Day After Tomorrow, The
20. Die Another Day
21. Dirty Dancing
22. Dodgeball
23. Dogma
24. Dreamcatcher
25. Drop Dead Fred
26. Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas
27. Erin Brockovich
28. Fight Club
29. Frequency
30. Forgotten, The
31. Garden State
32. Gladiator
33. GoldenEye
34. Ghost
35. Gothika
36. Identity
37. Jurassic Park
38. Jingle All the Way
39. K-PAX
40. Kill Bill, Volume I
41. Kill Bill, Volume II
42. Last Samurai, The
43. Liar Liar
44. Life of David Gale, The
45. Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
46. Love Actually
47. MI:2
48. Man on the Moon
49. Mafia!
50. Majestic, The
51. Matchstick Men
52. Matrix, The
53. Matrix Reloaded, The
54. Matrix Revolutions, The
55. Meet Joe Black
56. Memento
57. Mission: Impossible
58. Mrs. Doubtfire
59. Moulin Rouge
60. Mummy Returns, The
61. Notebook, The
62. Ocean’s 11
63. Office Space
64. One Hour Photo
65. Others, The
66. Panic Room
67. Patch Adams
68. Pearl Harbor
69. Phone Booth
70. Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, The
71. Pleasantville
72. Ring, The
73. Red Dragon
74. Robocop
75. Serendipity
76. Scary Movie 3
77. Shrek 2
78. Silence of the Lambs
79. Signs
80. Sixth Day, The
81. Sixth Sense, The
82. Something’s Gotta Give
83. Speed
84. Spider-Man II
85. Star Wars: The Clone Wars
86. Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
87. Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
88. Star Wars: Return of the Jedi
89. Swordfish
90. Terminator 2: Judgment Day
91. Titanic
92. True Lies
93. Truman Show, The
94. Venomous
95. Village, The
96. What Dreams May Come
97. What Lies Beneath
98. White Oleander
99. Wimbledon
100. X-Men II

If, for some reason, I'm completely mistaken in my movie judgment, or have another suggestion to throw at me, I'd be happy to hear from you and possibly put it on my list. That'd bump another movie off, but that's cool as long as it's better than any single movie on this list (and I agree, and I've seen it).

Citywalk

I woke up this morning with a horrible stomach ache. Does that happen? I couldn't really get rid of it, but it always seems to help when you drink soda. Unfortunately, I didn't have any cold soda because I haven't drank much lately. I've been sticking mostly to water, Gatorade, and apple juice (for those who were wondering, the LEMONADE is still safe and sound...or, what's left of it, anyway). I hopped in the shower, hoping that my stomach ache would work itself out naturally. When that didn't happen, I got clothed myself, whipped my hair together in about five minutes, and went back into my bedroom. I broke out some ice into my blue plastic cup, poured a Pepsi in, and drank away. That was at 8:00 AM. I still had the stomach ache when I left for Math this morning, but it wasn't as bad as it was when I woke up.

I would like to alert everyone to the fact that today is the day before September 11, 2004. Alex Walsh will be leaving today for Chicago. I'm sure you have nothing to fear traveling the day before the anniversary of the horrible terrorists attacks. But, if I were a terrorists, I'd definitely strike the day before my anniversary. You know, change things up a bit. Have a safe trip.

Math class today was anything but exciting. I do quite a bit of walking to get there, too. The campus is relatively vast. If only there was some way to relay to you exactly how far away everything is, and where I have to travel to.

Well, now there is:


Now, let me begin by saying that in comparison to high school, the campus is enormous. But, the walking really isn't all that far for me with my current class schedule. There are some classes that you should probably drive to. These types of classes include:

• Somewhere you deem too far to walk, i.e., 10 - 20 ft., max.

The only problem is that there aren't parking lots everywhere. I mean, sure, it seems like that. But there really aren't. As you can see, the FO-KOOSE spends most of it's time hiding in the South Parking Garage. I think the point I'm trying to make is that you walk everywhere. You could take the school shuttle, but, c'mon, who am I? Neil Armstrong?

I came back after Math class and got a bite to eat at Wendy's on campus. I walked into my dorm room and saw that I was alone. Kuris came walking in a few minutes later from his 7:30 morning class and went right to bed. Goodnight, Kurtis.

I worked some on my computer for awhile until I had to go to English class.

In English we basically just sat around and talked about memoirs. With the help of Judy Vanderoef, I decided on a topic for my memoir. For those of you who don't know, a memoir is simply a memory that you have in your head on paper. You describe as much as you can remember from, normally, a single instance in your life.

Jesse Chapman
Professor Ethridge
ENC1101
9 September 2004
Memoir Sketch

When I was in eighth grade, I wrote a story in which my math teacher was murdered. I wrote the story on my computer, just like I’m writing this now, hoping for a laugh or two. The intent was to be humorous; however, the story was regarded as a direct threat to the teacher’s life. I was suspended from school for ten days. Even if I wanted to kill my teacher, did they think that suspending me from school would have eliminated my desire to end my teacher’s life? This I’m not sure of. I remember bringing the story to school and photocopying it on the school copy machine. I made about five copies and passed it out to some kids at in the morning before school even started. Now, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. The focus of the story wasn’t about this math teacher; rather, the focus of the story was nonexistent. In a story where Latin diva Gloria Estefan emerges from a toilet, people pulled donuts out of their ears, and Darth Vader walks around with the rest of us mortals, my math teacher was stabbed in the eye with a compass, and then struck down with a black light saber. Not only is there no concrete plot to this story, but the focus doesn’t exist because there is none. This fantasythat I created in my mind and later transcribed to paper was overtlysatirical. I guess I’d like to say that I learned something from being suspended, but all it reinforced in my mind is that you are only allowed to be as creative as people want you to be.

For those of you who don't know, that is a true story. I'll post the entire paper online when it's completed (for those who give a crap about my writing, that is).

So, after English I decided to go shopping for some important items.

After shopping I came back to the dorm and worked on a few projects that I had planned.

Katie called me and wanted to know if our plans for Citywalk were still on for tonight. I told her yes, and that I'd meet her from 6:00 PM to 7:00 PM there. So, around 5:50 I left. Around 6:20, I was there. Katie called me as I'm pulling into my parking spot.

Hit_and_Run86: Yeah, umm, Eugenia is going to go with us. Are you mad?
Me_Me_Me: No, just surprised. That's fine. I'm here now, how much longer are you going to be?
Hit_and_Run86: Well, we're just leaving Palm Coast now...so...
Me_Me_Me: Uhhhhh...
Hit_and_Run86: Yeah, but it won't take long. I mean, the traffic is gone, so that's good.

Now this makes me wonder about Katie's mental state. How does she know that the traffic is gone? I just sat in Katie's nonexistent traffic for thirty minutes. She won't be here until 8:00.

Hit_and_Run86: So, I'll be there in an hour.

Two and half hours later, Katie arrives. By that time, I wasn't really mad anymore. I had time to chill out and get a few things -- namely, Dip-and-Dots. Oh my god, if you don't know what those babies are, you need to find out, and quick. They are little frozen dots of ice cream, and, ooh, baby are they expensive, but voodoo good!

We hung around in Citywalk for awhile playing DDR and airhockey. We ate at the Hard Rock Cafe, and I got out of there for a mere $11.00. Good deal if you ask me, but spicy wings.

It took me awhile to find my car because I didn't really commit to memory where I had parked, which was probably not the best thing. It's not like Wal-Mart where you have a general idea of where you parked. No, it's Universal Studios Florida, and you won't find your car, loser. Well, I was trying to find my car, it was midnight, so I decided to phone home and talk with my mom. It was Friday, and I figured she'd be up. Of course she wasn't up, so I didn't bother to leave a message.

Speaking of phoning home, I parked in E.T., and found my car after only fifteen minutes of heavy-duty searching. I was lucky.

I didn't go to bed until 5:00 AM. I had some major projects to work on, and I'm still not done. But, good news is that I finished The Wedding, and I recommend it to anyone who's got some free times, and a maturity about their life. It's not for anyone who doesn't like to read, and it's not for anyone who doesn't enjoy movies like About Schmidt. Enough said, I think.

Ivan

Let's start off with some good news.


That horribly-colored, sixth grade geography-book-style map you're looking at is the lovely "HURRICANE IVAN." Notice the little random dotted line areas around Florida? I'm sure you can figure out where I'm going with this.

I think it's time we all pooled our money and purchased a home in South Dakota.

Who's with me?

Get a home in South Dakota
Go to Virginia
Go to Clermont
Go to Georiga
Stay in Palm Coast (option has been disabled)

I spent more time on my hair this morning than I have in awhile. Thursdays are my favorite day of the week because my first class doesn't start until 1:30, and my second class isn't until 6:00 PM -- that's the macroeconomics class that I love so very much. I was a little worried however, that the class would be in big trouble. You see, there are three basic types of classes in college: three times a week, two times a week, and one time a week. Obviously, you have to have the same amount of hours for a class. So, the logical conclusion would be that the less days a week you have a class, the more hours it is, right? Because of the weather last week, macroeconomics was cancelled that one day; however, missing that one day is equivalent to missing three days in college, and an entire week in high school! So, it was going to be interesting to see how the Professor Wolpert would handle the class. Little did I know that class would be more interesting than I thought.

I really do love my psychology class. Professor Negy is amazingly interesting, and he says some pretty amazing things, too.

Wrote_the_Book99: Sexual and aggressive natures tend to drive our thoughts. At least, that's what Freud believed. Think of this example. When you're driving, and someone cuts in front of you, that act has the potential to make you very upset. Sometimes people, not any of you in here, I'm sure, sometimes people will actually follow people who have cut them off, and perform what we like to call road rage. They might follow the person, get our of their car, and walk over to them. It might make you so upset that you feel like stroking them. CHOKING, choking them.

What an amazing man. He asked a question in class, I forget what at the moment, and someone read out of the book to him the answer. He interrupted her in the middle of her talking and said

Wrote_the_Book99: That's great, would anyone else like to read me a passage that I wrote out of my book?

After psychology, I had a lot of English and Math homework that I needed to work on from Wednesday. So, naturally I decided to ignore it and go to BestBuy.

I've had my eye an an Apple iPod for quite some time, now. It's a digital music player that can hold a certain number of songs depending on which one you get. There's the 15GB, 20GB, and 40GB. Basically, the 40GB iPod can hold about 10,000 songs, but it runs about $400. I was eyeing the 20GB one, which can hold roughly 5,000 songs. I'm not sure what compelled me to walk right into BestBuy and walk right out, but I did. Maybe it was my superego kicking in. I just saw the price of the iPod and decided not go buy it. Financial aid was dispersed into my bank account -- so, basically any money that's left over from tuition and room payments in mine to spend on anything. Regardless, I heard my mom's voice in my head, I think. I knew how much it was before I went in there. And I had the intent to buy it. But, I didn't. Instead I went to the pizza place next door and bought a slice of pizza. I was happy.

So, instead I decided to spend a lot less money in Old Navy. All I wanted was a shirt. Just one shirt. And, I found one, but it was too big...and it was a small. I guess I'm just an extra small person in a small man's world. I left without the shirt.

Eventually my day lands me in my economics class. Now, I'm sitting in class, minding my own business, when suddenly the teacher starts talking. Right when the teacher starts talking, a little woman in a chair sits in front of the class moving her hands all around in front of this other girl's face. She's deaf, and the nice woman is translating everything for her. Too bad I can't stop looking at the lady with the flailing arms and inappropriate facial expressions for what he saying. Do you know what I mean? Sometimes those sign people have very seemingly inappropriate faces on in order to convey concepts to people with their hands. For example:

Opportunity costs plays a huge role in economics.

How would you feel if you lost the invested money?

Can you trade that property without property rights?

I've never understood that. They either have no facial expressions, or they're really into it and they're trying to give extra emphasis on what people are saying. Notice they never do it when they are talking in sign language without translating -- just having a conversation with someone, their face is perfectly normal. Weird.

We were going over chapter two when I was sitting there, listening to

THE FIRE ALARM WENT OFF.

And I'm not talking about the standard high school fire alarms, no sireee. I'm talking about an electronic man talking over the PA system with the lights flashing and an air raid alarm sound in the background. No one understood why the alarm went off, but everyone filed out of the classroom and outside.

Right into the pouring rain.

Yes, that's right kids, we had to evacuate right into the rain. So, it's burn alive or get wet. I'd take my chances inside, if I could.

We weren't out there very long, I guess. Let's say about fifteen minutes or so. But, fifteen minutes seems like a lot longer when you're trying to hide under a palm tree avoiding the rain. Now, I don't hate the rain, but I certainly don't like it when I have places to go and people to see, and...in case you didn't read the opening to this entry -- "I spent more time on my hair this morning than I have in awhile." Yeah, that just sucks.

Anyway, we went back inside, sat down, and resumed class. Wolpert continues talking. The nice woman in the front start back up with the flailing arms. By now, the entire class is watching her. The funny thing is that Wolpert knows this, but really can't say anything about it. Well, I mean, I guess he could...the girl wouldn't know.

Now, let me re-explain the class. The class only meets once a week. We missed last week's class due to Francis, so any interruptions really pushes the class back a great deal. With Ivan coming this week, we might miss next Thursday, so

THE FIRE ALARM GOES OFF AGAIN.

This time, however, no one wants to go out in the rain. So, we all sit there with this man blasting over the PA. My recreation sound clip isn't even near as annoying as the real thing. I tried to get it close. I guess just try to imagine it so loud you can't even talk without shouting. It was so annoying -- and this time, it lasted twenty-five minutes.

Now, after resuming class for the third time, we realize that it might go off again. I guess we were lucky that it didn't.

Oh wait, it did. Strike three. Wolpert cancels class.

So, not only did we miss last week, only have an hour of this week (out of the three hours that we are supposed to have), but we might miss next week. Thanks, Ive.

I came back to the dorm and worked on my various English homework assignments. I finished my math homework the night before, which was a good idea on my part, because I would not have had time to complete it. Oh well. I talked online with Katie for awhile about this weekend, and we made plans to go to Citywalk. I was very excited about Citywalk. I was in bed by 1:30, and I read some in The Wedding. I desperately wanted to finish it, but I didn't have the chance.

Sleep.

Packages

It was 7 minutes after midnight. The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of the lawn in front of Mrs. Shears's house. Its eyes were closed. It looked as if it was running on its side, the way dogs run when they think they are chasing a cat in a dream. But the dog was not running or asleep. The dog was dead. There was a garden fork sticking out of the dog. The points of the fork must have gone all the way though the dog and into the ground because the fork had not fallen over. I decided that the dog was probably killed with the fork because I could not see any other wounds in the dog and I do not think you would stick a garden fork into a dog after it had died for some other reason, like cancer, for example, or a road accident. But I could not be certain about this.

10:05 AM.

I think I've finally figured out my alarm clock -- which is a good thing. You see, I changed alarm clocks when I moved to college. This new clock has the ALARM indicator light and the AM light switched from my old one. So, where I look to see if the alarm is set, it's like, "GREEN LIGHT" and, it really just means AM. I'm not sure who designed this evil clock, but I'm sure it's made by the same people who are responsible for Hurricane Frances.

Maybe I won't miss another class, like I did this morning, again.

That was the second time I've done that.

Rachel offered to give me Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning wake-up calls. I might just take her up on that offer. But, then I'd have to change her cell phone ring from the SIGNS noise to something a little more ... YEAH, I'M AWAKE! You know? The SIGNS noise is like, "teek eek teek eek teek eek." Even the old espeonague, "do do dalada DAAA NAAA, da na nanala DAAA NAAAA!" wouldn't save me. I'll have to run through a few different rings later.

I did go to bed quite late last night, but that doesn't matter. The alarm clock wasn't set, and even if I had gone to bed at ten o'clock last night, I wouldn't have been up anytime around eight. I'm lucky I woke up when I did! I'm not sure how that worked out, either. No alarm, no Rachel wake-up phone calls, no random noise from the common room parties -- just me waking up, ready to go. I wish every day was like that. I probably needed the few extra hours sleeping, anyway. And Math? Well, I can always catch up on that later. I'm sure it wasn't that big of a deal today, anyway.

But, I did indeed make it to my second class of the day -- English. I was assigned a lot of homework in that class even before the Arbor Day weekend, but the professor was kind enough to grant everyone passage into Mexico and a free trip the the Fiji Islands (he also told us that the homework will all be due Friday). I'm thinking I'll be doing a lot of homework this weekend.

And when I say "doing homework this weekend," I really mean, "writing journal entires and failing all my classes."

After getting back from English, I went on the computer, checked my mail, said hello to my entering-without-other-friends roommate, Kurt Douglas, and departed to the world outside. Instead asking where places are around the area, I typically just go out and find everything. Because of the intricacies of a big city like Orlando (strip malls, complexes, etc.) it's pretty easy to find everything I need. Let me pull up the official area map of the University of Central Florida:

As you can see, this is the official area map of the University of Central Florida. It's broken down into three main sections: OCEAN MIST, GRASSY KNOLLS, and BLOOD DRIVE. The gray sections represent things that are not important, i.e., car washes, banks, doctor's offices, etc. Here is a more in-depth breakdown of the official map, and everything that's located on those roads. Basically, if you travel on these roads, they will eventually lead you to these places:

OCEAN MIST

1. Regal Cinemas
2. Barnes & Noble
3. Target
4. Best Buy
5. Old Navy
6. Friday's (the restaurant, and yes, I'm calling it FRIDAY'S)

GRASSY KNOLLS

1. Wal-Mart
2. Post Office
   

BLOOD DRIVE

1. Firehouse Subs
2. Palm Coast (i.e., death, old people, and Bob Evan's)
   

As you can probably assume, I spend much of my time at OCEAN MIST. But, that's not to say that the other two roads are without great use. Target is a great store, but for some reason, I can't seem to stay out of Wal-Mart. The main reason for that is that I'm not used to stores not staying open for 24 hours a day except for severe weather conditions. So, Wal-Mart is my home for many late nights, as it was back in Palm Coast. Speaking of Palm Coast, I can't live without BLOOD DRIVE (much like the many people), because that's my ticket home (and other people's ticket to life).

Wanna see my package?

So, I had to find the post office today. All I had with me was the official area map. Now, I don't want to offend any UCF designers who may be viewing my journal, but I didn't really get much out of the official area map. I know, I know...it might look really detailed and handy, but it doesn't really tell you much. For example, I looked at the map and noticed that there is a giant "P" right next to Columbus (road, lane, drive, I'm not sure). Now, how am I supposed to know that "P" means "Post Office"? At any rate, I spent a HUGE AMOUNT of my time today searching for the post office. After about fifteen grueling minutes of searching, there it was --


For those of you who don't know, my Sony® DVD burner retired late Friday evening. Yes, the same DVD burner that I got with Judy at BestBuy. I'm not sure what the problem was, but, lucky for me, I called the tech support hotline and they were very nice about the whole thing. They walked me though a bunch of troubleshooting procedures.

NeoTechSupport: Yeah, so, dude, you're gonna wanna download the firmware update. Yeah, basically, it just updates the chip on the drive itself.
Me_Me_Me: So, I can download that from your web-site?
NeoTechSupport: What?
Me_Me_Me: ...the...update? I can download that from...
NeoTechSupport: Oh, yeah, yeah, firmware. Firmware. Yeah, you can get that right off our main site.
NeoTechSupport crunches on a potato chip.
Me_Me_Me: Right. So, this update usually works, right?
NeoTechSupport: It's...uhh, usually one of a few problems. It's either outdated firmware drivers or incorrect cables, or...haha...sometimes the drive just dies. Haha. But this will probably work.

"Huge sunglasses are a must nowadays," Judy says. "The trend is becoming more and more popular, and we all have Bianca to thank for that."

"Huge sunglasses are a must nowadays," Judy says. "The trend is becoming more and more popular, and we all have Bianca to thank for that."

It didn't work.

So, the man told me that if I mailed him the drive, he'd have it either repaired or he'd get me a brand new one. Hello? That's awesome. Why did I just spend two hours on the phone with you, SIIIRRRRRR? So, I mailed the drive away to the Sony Service Center at 123 Main Street in Manning, Iowa. Hopefully, we'll be getting that back soon. Seeing how my life went last night, and all my good luck with LEMONADE, I didn't take a chance on the package. I mailed it priority with full insurance for $300 worth of damage or loss. It only cost $5 for insurance. So, the total package cost was $11.45. Not bad.

Afterwards, I headed to Steak & Shake -- spotting it out of the cornea of my eye -- because I had a hankerin' for some Frisco Melt. Yeah, you know what I mean, Palm Coasters.

Then, I shot on over to Barnes & Nobel Booksellers, and bought a few things. One book that I purchased, entitled the curious incident of the dog in the night-time (yes, without CAPS) is amazingly interesting. Now, for those playing the home game, I don't read novels. I don't read novels. I don't read novels. I don't think I have to say it a fourth time, but I don't read novels. Let's break down all the books in my entire life (novels) that I've read:

Alas, Babylon
Frankenstein
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich

And I truly believe that's it. Yeah, it sad. They're all school-required readings. But, I get fifty-thousand bonus points for reading Alas, Babylon because it's a summer reading novel. Ha ha, take that, USA!

So, I am in the process of finishing The Wedding. The new book that I'm reading, as I said earlier, the curious incident of the dog in the night-time, is a book written by an obvious British writer. With such great words and phrases as, "Wellington," "...this little bugger," and "Sir Charles," how could you be in America? Maybe that's why I find the writing style interesting. I think it's a genius book, and I've only read prime numbers 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, and 31.

Interesting, isn't it?

The opening passage in this journal entry was from this wonderful book, as is this one:

I find people confusing.

This is for two main reasons.

The first main reason is that people do a lot of talking without using any words.

The second main reason is that people often talk using metaphors. These are examples of metaphors:

I laughed my socks off.
He was the apple of her eye.
They had a skeleton in the cupboard.
We had a real pig of a day.
The dog was stone dead.

The word metaphor means carrying something from one place to another. This comes from Greek [translations] "from one place to another," and "to carry." And it is when you describe something by using a word for something that it isn't. This means that the word metaphor is a metaphor.

I think it should be called a lie because a big is not like a day and people do not have skeletons in their cupboards. And when I try and make a picture of the phrase in my head it just confuses me because imagining an apple in someone's eye doesn't have anything to do with liking someone a lot and it makes you forget what the person was talking about.

I really like this book. It's told from the perspective of a fifteen-year-old mathematical genius who can't understand social interactions and human emotions. It's brilliant! I'll do a more in-depth review at some later time.

That's a lie.
To hear the salesman in action, feel free to download this clip.

Just when I thought that things were going normal out there in the common room, a man walks in -- and let me just make sure you all are paying attention. Nothing is happening. I'm sitting on the phone, talking to Rachel, and a man walks into my common room with a briefcase and a large bag that looks like it's home to a rifle. He whips a tripod out of the rifle case (so what? it looked like a rifle case -- you know what I'm talking about, one of those camouflage-style "i sit outside at the crappy cafeteria tables and hunt animals on the weekends" bags, but it was all black). He begins to set up some sort of convention-style displays in the common room, greets the EVIL, and then proceeds to talk very loudly and salesman-like. He started talking, and Kurt Douglas felt he had to pull the door almost all the way closed.

Nazis.

Dorm_Direct_Salesman: Hello, I'll only take up a minute of your time.

He was in there for about...two hours or so. It wasn't too long after he started talking that Kurt Douglas closed the door entirely. Darn it. But, that didn't stop me from recording a bit of the conversation.

I'm thinking it has something to do with one of those pyramid selling schemes online through some web-site. That's all I know at this time. Kurt Douglas missed a handful of calls. His cell phone must have rung four or five times. Can I just tell you that he has the most annoying cell phone ring ever conceived? I mean, espionage must be pretty insane to some people...but NO ONE would have his ring.
Care to listen to my roommates cell phone ring?

I worked on my homework for awhile tonight. Rachel helped me with some preliminary math problems, and then Alex finished them off for me. I hate math. I'm horrible at it. I love my friends, though. They always bring a smile to my face.

I basically just talked to people on my computer all night. I really do like talking online, despite what I often say about hating AIM conversations. I think I hate them when I'm trying to work on something. Perhaps I should put an away message up more often. I mean, that seems to be the popular thing to do nowadays. In fact, I signed on today wanting to talk with someone and was greeted with a very interesting phenomenon:

AIM screen names have been blurred to protect the innocent.

This is called the, "everyone who owns AIM and is online has an away message up, even if they are really there." With such classics as:

Those were some totally original away messages that I found lingering online earlier today, but I'm didn't want to include the profiles, screen names, or real names of anyone. I want to respect everyone's right to privacy.

Nowadays, your computer has to die before you sign offline.

My suite-mates friend, Joe, walked in awhile ago and offered me a DRINK. Now, at first I was going to ask him for a Coca-Cola, but I thought that would be silly. I knew what he meant when he said "DRINK." I think we all know. What kind of stupid college freshmen would I be to ask for a Cola-Cola?

Me_Me_Me: I'll have a Pepsi, please.

The Day After Labor Day

I opened the passenger door to unpack my things. I had packed the food items in shopping bags on the passenger side -- canned foods, snacks, soda, Gatorade, lemonade, and other various drinks. I reached in to grab a handful of plastic bags to take up to my mini-fridge inside the dorm. As I pulled the bags out of the car, the lemonade ripped through the bottom of the bag, hit the side of the curb, and exploded all over my pants, my shoes, my car, and all inside my shopping bags.

The night was off to a good start.

It took me about two solid hours to bring everything up the stairs and into my dorm room. I angrily took the broken plastic bag, stuffed it inside some other non-broken bags, and carted them up the stairs along with my other goods. I threw the plastic bags on the floor so I could dispose of them later.

Please, don't ask me why I brought so much stuff home for the weekend. If you did ask, I'd lie and tell you that I was panicked in the midst of a hurricane crisis. If you didn't ask, then you'd be my friend.

For all of the die-hard fans of the popular Chapman household candy, chocolate NIPS, you'll be saddened to know that they are SOLD OUT across America. If anyone can acquire some chocolate nips, you'll be my best friend. If you give me some, I will, however, be forced to kill your firstborn child.

I was relieved to find that Kurtis was not home when I arrived. Nothing against the kid, but coming home to your college dorm after a horrible weekend of mishaps, it's good to be able to sit down and allow yourself to breathe. Ask any of my close friends, and they'll tell you that I like to have my alone time. Everyone needs it; I'm no exception. Regardless, I like to come in and be able to have some time to myself. If not for me, then for the sheer fact that I have a dump truck full of articles ranging from dirty clothes, computer parts, books, papers, LEMONADE AND PLASTIC BAGS, and a bunch of other miscellaneous items. Needless to say, I take up the entire room with my belongings. It's good to have some time, also, to put away all my toys. It takes me about twenty to thirty minutes to set up my computer. I love having peace and quiet while I'm doing that. Every time I set my computer up, it seems like people have to complement me in some ridiculous fashion.

PettyUmps43: So, you're pretty good at computers, eh?

It's about that time when I feel the need to whip my hand around with superhuman speed and break their legs off. Please, don't tell me that I'm good with computer set-up, grandma. Most kids my age can do it with their eyes closed.

Back to my peace and quiet without my roommate. Did I also mention that the EVIL was not in their dorm, either? Yeah, it's true. I had the entire place to myself. Just me, myself, and...I...

Was it really any surprise that about five minutes after I got back, all three of them walk in with, what seemed like, a two friend minimum. At last, I felt like I was back at a high school club meeting.

?WheresWaldo?: Alright, kids. Now, remember to bring two friends for next week's meeting! We want to have the best club in the school! The more members, the better the club. It doesn't even really matter what we do! Welcome to the French Club!

Back to the end of my life -- they walk in, nine of them, all looking around, touching things (mainly each other), and looking at me like I'm the new boy in jail. I was about to throw up, when...

xxJohnxx: Hey, Jesse. How was your weekend?
Me_Me_Me: Good. I didn't have power for a lot of it, but my house wasn't affected at all. I basically just looked out the window at the rain until something fun came along. And then I ate it.
xxJohnxx: Awesome. Dude, so, yeah, we have some people here.
Me_Me_Me's brain is in idle mode.
xxJohnxx: So, yeah, if we get to loud or anything, just yeah, just like, tell us to be quiet, or yeah. Cool, thanks.

He actually thanked me. Like, he did me a favor. Thanks for bringing in the cast of COPS, except, there's not actual cops. Instead, there's just the cracked out people in their white wife-beaters, beating their wives, having sex in the middle of my floor -- yes, my floor, sex, sex, sex, and more sex. Having babies, making love, and...oh, sorry, I got Seussical the musical confused with my dorm room. What an amazing show, by the way.

Anyway, he thanked me. Jerk.

So, I just packed my LEMONADE and other items away. First, I started my with my computer. Speaking of which, I should put some music on.

Current Music: OCEAN AVENUE! WHOO! ANYTHING'S BETTER THAN THE CRACK PARTY IN MY COMMON ROOM!

Current Mood: Suicidal (please don't refer me to any hotlines, people. I am the person who answers those calls).

For those of you who don't know, the common room is the "living room," essentially. It's the room that connects the two dorm rooms, and the bathroom. I spend most of my time in the common room as I'm exiting or entering the dorm. On any given day, I'd say I'm in that room about ten to twenty seconds. Right now, I'm actually not sure what's going on in there. I hear dice rolling, and I know some "illegal drinking" is going on. Actually, I don't even know that. I know nothing.

Kids.

So, I'm thinking that sleep is a horrible idea. I mean, that entire idea comes from the fact that I wish NOT to sleep tonight. There should not be class for UCF students tomorrow, firstly. No one else has class tomorrow. FPC, USF, DBCC, yeah, none of them. I'm mad about that. Anyway, about sleeping. I think it's a waste of time. I could be putting a huge journal entry on here all night, detailing each and every passing second. Someone famous never slept because he thought we were wasting our lives away...I think it was a famous painter, Mussolini, perhaps? I'm not sure.

One of the friends of the EVIL came in and talked to me about movies.

joeIthink: So, yeah, I hear you're a movie buff?
Me_Me_Me: Yes.
joeIthink: Awesome, what's you're favorite movie.
Me_Me_Me: Yeah, I get a lot of criticism for this, but I'd have to say The Matrix Trilogy.
joeIthink: DUDE! I love all of those movies.
Me_Me_Me: Wow, so many people don't like those movies. I mean, most people like the first one and then their brains explode.
joeIthink: Yeah, I hear you. They don't understand anything. I love the second one, I think, the best.
Me_Me_Me: Awesome. Yeah, so what are your favorite movies?
joeIthink: Oh man, my favorite movie of all time is Braveheart.

So, that was the end of our conversation. He left and retreated back to the common room party. I resorted to unpacking the rest of my things. I got everything packed away pretty quick.

The party in the common room took off pretty quick. The small 10'6 x 11 space was host to over three hundred patrons. Many celebrity guests such as Tom Hanks, Matthew MacDermid, and Richard Gere were sighted there.

BUT THEN...THE PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM WAS OVER, I REPEAT, THE PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM WAS OVER.

Kids.

I got most of my things packed away pretty quick. I left some of the drinks out still, in case I wanted to take a little taste. The hardest part, I guess, was the computer setup. You have to remember that I have to cart everything up eight flights of stairs to the second story! The food is all safe and sound. I'm not sure if I told you, but my dresser is a pantry. I'm not exactly sure that it's normal to do that, but I do it anyway. You see, kitchens in standard dorm rooms are like six-disc CD changers installed on toilets -- it doesn't happen. So, I have to store everything in the dresser drawers. That's one of the reasons why I have all my clothes on hangers. I mean, how could I put everything in the drawers if I had clothes in there? I couldn't. You're silly.

I tried to write a few journal entries back home (while I had power, that is). Two problems confronted themselves at my house.

1. I had company at my house. Having people over does not support the proper journal entry environment.
2. I wasn't at college. Being at home and writing about college is like being in the forests of Africa and wanting to see a savanna elephant. Good luck, kid.

I'm thinking the real reason that I can't write journal entries back home is because there are observers. People actually see what's happening, so I don't feel like I need to tell anyone. That, and the fact that life seems somewhat normal back home. Here, my goodness, it's like...a...mooovviiee...???? Yeah. At any rate, I'm glad to be back.

Good news and bad news about coming back to college. Good news: you get to settle down again, and get some peace and quiet. No more power-outages, no more hurricanes, and no more crazy dancers in your front lawn (long story). Anyway, the bad news sucked pretty bad. The mini-fridge was unplugged ... for some reason or another. The last thing I want to do, However, is blamE someone for this Vile and ultImately unspeakabLe tragedy.

Everything was packed away except the some Gatorade and LEMONADE. It was unknown to me at the time that the mini-fridge was unplugged until I tried to open it -- only to no avail. I guessed it was, built up pressure or something from not opening it for a few days. Of course, I have to pretend to be all macho, and I fling the door open and out comes soda cans, water from the ice, MOLDY CHEESE, ham, hot dogs, oh God, it was disgusting. They hadn't been refrigerated all this time. They were all over the floor, and...I wanted to throw the entire fridge out the window.

Against my better judgment, however, I decided not to throw the refrigerator out the window and to, instead, clean up the mess. So, no fridge throwing for me, I guess (and to think, I could have made an Olympic sport out of this). So, I have a HUGE wad of soaking wet, dripping paper towels, meat products, water... slime... nauseating... ugh... garbage, and, it was nasty, to say the least. So, I reach for a plastic bag and I start cramming all this stuff in the plastic bag. I finish throwing the worst smelling pile of filth alive into this plastic bag, tie the top, and off I go to the dumpster. Everything seems fine until I stand up, whip the bag up off the ground, and out flies everything out of the bag onto my pants, my shoes, my dresser, and my floor. It was the same bag from earlier.

The night ended good, too.

mr_plans is not happy

Hello everyone! For those of you who are not aware, my nickname is mr_plans, because I like to make plans. I'm sure you are all aware of the weather situation that's plagued Florida, moved Seussical, canceled flights, ruined travel, and destroyed our lives. Frances? What kind of name is that anyway?

If you ask me, I think the French are responsible. FRENCH, FRANCES? C'mon, people.

Anyway, I had planned on making a huge update tonight, but I'm really not in the writing mood. So, I promise to update when I get back to college. After all, this is a college journal.