New Desktop

Hello all,

Got a new desktop for Christmas, and decided to post on my blog. Hi. How are you guys?
I'm just installing my recording software so that maybe I can get some of my material out there, and actually get some production practice. I've only got two condenser mics, but hey, I'll figure something out.

So, I'm living at my dad's house now. I have my own room for the first time since I was three, and I'm turning it into a recording studio, complete with a desktop computer, a Korg Krome, and an amp, as well as some other equipment I have yet to transport from Mom's house.

I'll talk a little more later. As of now, it is late, and I've gotta get up early for work tomorrow.

G'night,

T-WAC

Bored/ADD rant

Hello.

This is T-WAC. And T-WAC is bored.

My roommates aren't home. I can't take karate because none of my gym shorts are clean (they need you to wear gym shorts at the gym because they're stupid).

It is literally a freaking ghost town in my building. Meh. E'rbody's probably at the hockey game. I don't care for hockey. I'm going home tomorrow. That'll be fun.

I AM SO FREAKING BORED.

Where my homies at?

Meh. Meh again.

I'm liking college life, for the most part. Well, except for when my roommates aren't home. And I'm bored. Blech.

This is what my brain sounds like when I'm a) sleep-deprived and b) bored.

Some of my floor mates are trying to get a basketball game and it's not working. One of them is about to call the TV company.

Well, actually, I take back my previous statement. When I'm sleep-deprived, I start to lose my internal filter and say whatever happens in my brain, regardless of how crazy/offensive it is.

I played Mario around midnight last night, and some things came out of my mouth that I hadn't ever thought I would hear.

Anyway, I should probably get back to not doing my homework and being bored.

See y'all,

T-WAC

A good life: it's real, folks!

So, I'm procrastinating on my lab report. While procrastinating on my lab report, I decided to look back on old posts.

I literally want to cry and hug my 17-18-year-old self and give him chocolate. Because he, like me, loves chocolate.

The posts are so depressing, though. I mean, I am only twenty, but it frightens me to realize exactly where I was only two years ago.

And then I think of where I am now. I'm a pretty happy person. I'm motivated, I'm upbeat, and I'm starting to really enjoy life. I mean, yeah, there are sucky elements to it, but y'know, it's part of the human experience, right?

Live 'n learn, dontcha know.

But seeing my old posts really motivated me to say something:

I know that people who are in dark times -- people who are where I was -- often believe that things don't get better. And I want you to know that they do. How do I know? Because I've been there. I've been there, I've gotten up, and I've kept fighting.

I'm not gonna say getting better is easy, 'cause it's not. I know that. It took me three years to get to where I am today. Three years to recover from ONE thing that dragged me down.

But I'm doing astronomically better now. I wanna tell y'all that it is possible. There is always a better life out there. There is always love.

So get up, keep fighting, keep believing. You're not alone. You have the strength to do this, I promise.

That's all.

God Bless,

T-WAC

A Quote To End The Night

"I've finally found my way, say goodbye to yesterday, hit the gas, there ain't no brakes on this lost highway. Yeah, I'm bustin' loose, I'm lettin' go, out on this open road. It's Independence Day on this lost highway." -- Bon Jovi

T-WAC

College Life Series: First Few Week Check-In, and A Sick Sense of Humour

Hello again.
So, I'm home for a weekend, which is nice.

College has been pretty good. I've been having a pretty good time. Classes have been tough, but so far, it's been nothing a few hours of hardcore studying haven't been able to fix. So far, it hasn't been any harder than my community college. It's great to see that those three years actually prepared me for full college study.

So how has living away from home been?
Great!
I've gotten to know my suite mates a lot better over the first few weeks, and I have to say, I get along pretty well with all of them.
Well, actually, remember the one who hadn't shown up the last time I posted? Yeah. I've only seen him twice. But he seems nice. If he was there more often, I'd probably get along with him pretty well.
It's pretty funny, I'm not a morning person, but I still get up earlier than all of them. It's so amusing because one of them has two alarms and sleeps through both, so I get up in the morning and leave my room and consistently hear an obnoxious EEEEK EEEEK EEEEK EEEEK coming from the room adgecent to mine. Further, my roommate has two alarms (which both sound very pretty and calming, yet are obnoxious enough to warrant a stagger out of bed) that will go off simultaniously at precisely seven AM. As I brush my teeth, brush my hair, and shave, I get to hear a lovely medley of soft harp strings, birds chirping, light piano, and EEEEK EEEEK EEEEK EEEEK. It's quite amusing.

By the by, has anyone ever played Cards Against Humanity?
If not, picture Apples to Apples, but the cards are written by twelve-year-old antireligious asylum patients with serious parent issues.
Got a good picture? Great. Now picture something three times worse than that, and you have Cards Against Humanity.
For those of you who have read my blog for a while, you see that I'm pretty polite.
And that's what my suite mates thought about me.
And then we played Cards.
.....
To make a long story short, one of them told me that, out of all of the people who he expected to have a sick a sense of humor as I did the way I played, he would have put me on the bottom of that list.
I will not include some of the cards that I put down, but, if you've played, think of the worst combinations possible (excepting the religious ones -- too offensive for my tastes). Chances are, I played one of them.
But I come by the sense of humor honestly.
My mothers' side is infamous for their affinity towards the darker, sicker side.
My Uncle Andrew showed me "Raging Rudolph" when I was eight (basically, a gangster version of the beloved Christmas special) and I was scarred for life.

If any of you are interested in learning about my sense of humour, I'd advise you watch this video. It should give you a good understanding.

If you like it, watch all six. Five was the only one I didn't particularly care for. But they're a minute and a half each, so it's not too bad.

That's all for now, folks!
See y'all later.
T-WAC

Move-in day

So, after years of community college, a graduation, and a long summer of work, move-in day finally arrived. I am typing this from my iPod in my new dorm room. And I have to say, so far, it's been pretty suite.

Har har har.

But seriously though. It's a suite.

And it's pretty cool.

Today was pretty crazy, I have to say.

Move-ins began early, so early was when I had to arise, and due to the unexpectedly long time it took to pack and the fact that I visited a friend at his graduation party, I did not get to bed until late.

Anyway, after finishing up packing, Mom, Banana, Patar, and I all left for my university.

The drive was pretty uneventful, and soon we got to what was going to be my home for the next nine months.

After unloading my stuff, and after literally running across town to get my student ID (a necessity which my orientation leaders failed to supply) we were moving in.

Now, since I had to pack that morning, we had left a little earlier than planned. I expected all of my roommates to be there already, but surprisingly, none had showed up yet (the first one showed up probably three or four hours later).

Thus, I had first pick when it came to my bedding area, which was nice. Setting stuff up in a neat and orderly fashion was relatively easy.

My roommates are all pretty chill, which is a cool thing.

Unfortunately, I'm a transfer student living in an upperclass dorm, so most people there know each other already.

But I've met some cool people anyway.

To be honest, it is a little scary going into a completely new situation. But hey, life isn't interesting if you don't throw yourself out into the water every once in a while, no?

Besides, they have a Catholic student union, and I know one of the members already, so that's cool.

It'll be good to meet people who share my faith.

Anyway, right now I'm chilling in my room. There's a baseball game going on nearby and I can hear the announcer loud and clear through my open window. It's kind of annoying, but whatever. I can live with it.

My roommates are gone, except one who's watching YouTube videos in the next room.

One of my roommates has yet to show. It's pretty funny actually.

Ah, life is interesting.

Don't know what awaits me tomorrow, but I have to say, I am certainly looking forward to it.

It's cool to be living away from home anyway. I'm really looking forward to the club fair. Hopefully I'll join some vocal ensembles and some good clubs, maybe a frat... I dunno.

Anyway, I just installed a blogger app on my iPod, so I'll probably be posting more often.

Hasta luego!

T-WAC

P.S. this is my room. Pretty not bad, and it makes me feel pretty cool to know that I'm a heck of a lot more organized than my roommate, LOL.

My Childhood Gems: Why I'm So Messed Up

When we look back at our early childhood, I'm sure we all have things we remember.

Perhaps we would wake up at the crack of dawn and play with our siblings (if we had any) and toys until 7:00 AM, when we would watch "Clifford The Big Red Dog" or "Dragon Tails" or "Arthur" on the PBS station, until Mom and Dad got up, at which point we would eat breakfast and maybe play outside afterwards.

Yeah, I bet that sounds pretty typical, pretty run-of-the-mill for the most of you. And I can't say my early childhood was very different. However, there were some things. A few things that most of us... well, most of us didn't have. I have compiled a list of my "Childhood Gems" here, the reasons I have a sick sense of humour and some rather... odd... tastes.

Ahem.

Gem No. 1: Combo Number Five

Now let me tell you something about my family. We've never been particularly apt in the social appropriateness department, least of all in the subdepartment of social appropriateness known as political correctness.

My grandmother on my mother's side is the prime example of this, as she could be in many ways what would now be termed as racist (she would do things such as squinting her eyes in an exaggerated fashion and immitating the man who took our order at the Chinese food place. "Oh, ya, you get awon large gen'el tso chicken? And two eggroll?").

Not that my grandmother ever saw the Chinese as anything less than anyone else. In her defense, she simply found the Chinese accent funny. Not that I believe that making fun of those of any race is in any way beneficial to society. But anyway.

My father had a video on his computer, a Chinese food parody of "Mambo Number Five" by some artist whose name I do not remember. My siblings and I would watch it and laugh hysterically.

Here it is:

Gem No. 2: WASSUPPP?!

Anyone remember the old Budweiser commercials? Yeah, those frequented my childhood. Dad has a number of strange interests, one of which is commercials. Here are a few of them.

...And naturally, people took this and made their own videos. I remember seeing this one as a kid all the time.

Funny thing is, I'm still laughing just as hard, if not harder, than I did when I was a kid.

Gem No. 3: Tank Girl

So, what music did ya'll listen to as kids? "Mary Had A Little Lamb"?

I have to say, I had my share of nursery rhymes. However, there were some other things there as well. My parents both loved a really campy and absurdly ridiculous movie from the '90s called "Tank Girl."

And, until Banana and I started singing the lyrics, the songs from the soundtrack frequented our ears.

I've posted a few of these before, but here are some of the examples:

Please note, Banana could not WOULDN'T go to sleep unless my mother blasted "Shove" and literally ran across the room with her back and forth.

And finally, the one that caused my parents to stop playing the soundtrack altogether when we started repeating lyrics.

Gem No. 4: Elfbowling

My parents have a very odd sense of humour, to say the least. Occasionally, as a child, I would walk in on one of my parents playing a game called "Elfbowling." In this game, you played as Santa, bowling down elves on strike at the end of a lane.

Pretty harmless. At least, until the elves started moving and/or taunting you.

"Fewer Toys! Higher Wages!"

"Gutterball..."

"Is that all the balls you got, Santa?"

My personal favorite was an elf saying "Hey, Santa," followed by all of them turning around in unison and pulling down their pants.

I think I got to play it once or twice.

As for the sequel, which was a shuffleboard match between Santa and his South Pole brother, and involved elves in thongs, on the other hand....

I said the Gems were messed up, not traumatizing.

These are the major ones, as these are the ones that I experienced at the earliest age.

This will probably be followed by a sequel, with other, later gems. I look forward to that.
As of now, I can barely keep my eyes open, much less look back at my childhood.

G'night all,
T-WAC

My Recording Equipment is Out To Ruin My Dream of Being a Big-Shot Producer

I am very upset with my recording equipment right now.
For some odd reason, my audio track refuses to record.
I don't know what's up and have been trying to fix it for quite a while, and it's still not working. I mean, I connected all of the busses and stuff, the input busses and output busses are connected, the signal is going through the hardware to the software. It just won't arm for record.

I'm convinced that my equipment is out to ruin any experience I might attain independently.
Needless to say, I am more than a little bit irate.

I mean, come on. I just want to record a freakin' EP so I can get my music out there and test my production skills. Is that too much to ask?
Sigh....

I guess I'll just drown my sorrows in Anette Olzon's new album, and then it's on to Tuomas Holopainen's.
Scratch that, Tuomas Holopainen's it is.

Hey, this is pretty good.

Anyway, I've been thinking of possible titles for my new EP (or full-length album, I have enough songs in the works).
I was initially thinking of a purely piano and vocals EP, which I would call "I Left my Keys in the House" (hahaha), but then I realized that I actually have more instruments available to me. And half of my songs don't have piano anyway.

And speaking of such things...
I'm buying a new keyboard.
Yes, I am. I am making a major purchase right before I go off to my new college (did I forget to mention I now have an Associate's in Engineering?).

Before you judge me on this "foolish" decision, let's look at the facts here:
1. I have been saving up birthday money since I was 15, and much of this was given to me with the intention that I use it on something I want. I can officially pay for most of the keyboard out of that.
2. I have wanted to make my career professional for a while, and have been limited (in part) by equipment. This will eliminate that limitation.
3. This keyboard is good enough that I will not want or need to upgrade for a long time. Even though I could buy a decent workstation for half the price of this one, I want something that I'll use for a long time. I want to use this thing for the next ten years at least. Sooooo, it's worth the price.
4. A guy can follow his dreams, can't he?

Sooo, I didn't go terribly off topic, did I.
The heck with recording equipment. I quit. At least, for today.... I'll be back at it tomorrow.

For those of you who want to see her, here she is: the Korg Krome, 88 Keys.
http://www.korg.com/us/products/synthesizers/krome/

See y'all later,

T-WAC

Why sleep is a good thing

Good news and bad news.

Good news: I've been getting up earlier! My goal is complete!

Bad news: I haven't been going to bed earlier.

This combination leads to sleep-deprived-ness.

Sleep-deprived-ness is not fun for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I CAN'T FREAKING SING. Seriously, your voice needs rest too. It is soooo hard to sing when you're sleep deprived. It sucks.

And what am I doing to change this state? I'm blogging. Hooray.

Well, not just blogging.

Listening to my Uncle's album, which is awesome.

Getting into a long pun war on Facebook with one of my friends.

I have a bunch of drafts getting ready to be published here.

I should totally publish them sometime.

....yeah, I'm pretty tired.

I need to sleep now.

G'night all.

T-WAC

Realization

I just realized that pretty much none of my followers are blogging anymore.

That is all.

T-WAC

And about that talent show I mentioned three posts back....

Oh, quick post here.

Remember how I tried out and got into my school's talent competition?

I tied for third.
It's not first, but it establishes me as an artist.
And gives me a decent amount of prize money.

That is all.

T-WAC

The Inverse Proportionality Relationship between Coffee and Social Awkwardness

Interesting title, what?
Well, prepare for a mildly interesting story.

I am Catholic.
I think you all know that, but I figured I'd just say it again.
I am Catholic.
Because of my Catholic-ness, I am involved with a church that is involved with the Knights of Coloumbus, I Catholic mens' organization. And every once in a while, they sponsor a fundraising event.
Very recently, a dear friend of mine brought it to my attention that there was going to be a fundraising event going on, and encouraged me to go. The basic concept of the event was Horse-Racing. We would bet money on wood horses, whose movement would be determined by the role of the dice.
Not wanting to pass up a chance at something fun (and also not wanting to pass up a chance to hang out with said friend, who is usually off at college), I decided to give it a go.

So, the day finally came. After coming home from the morning's college visit (which was absolutely fabulous), I retrieved my ticket to the fundraiser and left.
Now, when I got there, my friend, whose father is deeply involved in the Knights of Colombus, was busily writing down raffle-ticket numbers and names on a sheet of paper.
The line was long, and she was incredibly busy, so I decided I'd walk around a bit.
There's a downside to church functions in my state; the vast majority of people who attend are at least twenty years older than I am, as the vast majority of our parish youth won't touch anything involving the church with a 39.5 foot pole.
So, yeah, I talked to some of the people I knew for a while, and it was cool, but there's only so much you can talk about with people who are twenty years older than you are.
Things became awkward. Very quickly.
So, I found myself standing alone near the coffee table.

Let's visualize, for a brief moment. There's a large social gathering, everyone's drinking an alchoholic beverage, talking to someone, laughing, having a good time. And then, in the corner, near the coffee table, there's a kid who's twenty years younger than everyone else, just standing there, not talking to anyone.

If that's not awkward, I don't know what is.

I don't particularly like awkwardness, so I frantically searched my brain for a way to appear less awkward. I wasn't sure what to do until I realized I was near the coffee table. Now, for those of you who don't know me, there is nothing I hate more than coffee. Except maybe oatmeal. Or bigotry. Or senseless violence.

Boy, that escalated quickly....

Anyway, back to the story. I loathe coffee. But I suddenly realized.... Someone who is twenty years younger than everyone else in the room standing in the corner twiddling his thumbs is extremely awkward, but someone who is twenty years younger than everyone else in the room standing in the corner sipping on a beverage is substantially less awkward.
I didn't like that idea. But it didn't look like my friend would be done with the raffle tickets anytime soon. So I decided to give it a go.
I grabbed a white styrofoam cup and poured in the steaming puce-colored liquid.
I looked at it hesitantly. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps I would like it. Perhaps I should give coffee a second chance.
I took a sip. The bitter taste flooded my mouth as I realized that, no, I was definitely right with my initial appraisal of coffee. The stuff was disgusting.
But still. It was better than standing around awkwardly.
I took another sip.

But wait. What do people do with their coffee when it's too bitter? The realization hit me: I needed SUGAR. And cream. But I needed SUGAR.
I grabbed a packet and dumped it in.
The result was a deceptively sweet mixture with a bitter aftertaste.
Meh. It was still better than looking awkward.

Anyway, soon enough, my friend got finished with her work, and we enjoyed the rest of the night. I gambled away $24 and won $8, so I didn't really make a profit, but hey. It was for a good cause.
Besides, there was only a 16.66666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666.....% chance of actually winning something. Yes. I calculated. With long division. In my head, thank you very much.

But anyway.

I am currently half-asleep. I wanted to write this, and could have probably done a much better job if I wrote it while I was not half-asleep, but hey. Whatev.

School's almost over. I've almost graduated with an Associate's in Science. I'm experiencing the worst case of senioritis. And I'm not even a senior.

Oh well.

Goodnight everyone.

T-WAC

On giving a girl flowers

It has come to my attention that a widespread romantic custom for a man is to give flowers to the woman of his affection.
I will admit, it is a beautiful gesture, as flowers are [expletive] expensive these days.

It is also, however, a completely fatalistic gesture.

Ask me why.

Well, let's look at this scenario:
A guy shyly walks up to a girl's front door and rings the doorbell.
When she opens, he presents her with flowers, and, after elaborating on his feelings for her, he asks her out and she, brimming with joy, agrees.
Now let's look at the message that is actually being sent here:

"Hey, I wanted to tell you that I really love you, and, as a symbol of our love, I present you with this bouquet of flowers. Now, you'll take the bouquet in and put it in a vase of some kind, and then fill said vase with water, and you'll take care of the flowers, and you'll marvel at their beauty each day. Every morning, you'll fill the vase with new water to make sure the flowers will continue to flourish and bloom, and every night before you go to bed, you'll see them on your windowsill, and you'll smile. Unfortunately, however, the bouquet of flowers will inevitably begin to die, and despite your best attempts to nourish it, take care of it, and make it continue to flourish, it will slowly lose its color, bend, wither and finally decay. Just like our love."

You see my point now.
An alternative to this is plastic flowers.
But again, that bears another fatalistic message:

"Hey, I wanted to tell you that I really love you, and, as a symbol of our love, I present you with this plastic rose. This is nearly identical to a real one, and it will never die. You won't need to nourish it or keep it alive; you can set it in a vase on your dresser and see it whenever you please. You'll smile each time you'll see it, and your heart will warm a little, as you try to convince yourself that it really is beautiful, even though, deep within your heart, you know that it would only be truly beautiful if it were real. Just like our love."

I don't know how I think things like this up either.

I intend to give a girl a seed.
She'll probably ask why, and I'll elaborate that this is where we begin. We start with something simple and small, and if we decide it's worth working for, we'll nourish it together. If it goes farther, it'll grow into something large and something beautiful, and, eventually, will bear fruit. Winters may come, and the plant may lose its leaves, but, if we continue to nourish it, care for it, and treasure it, even when it doesn't look beautiful anymore, it will grow back with even greater beauty, and will bear even greater fruit.

Not something I'd give to someone I was just asking out, as the message goes a lot deeper than is appropriate for two people who don't know each other as well.

I think it's what I'll give my wife on her wedding day. If I am getting married, at least. Maybe I'll start growing a tree and I'll cut off one of its branches and weave it into a ring for her. Maybe that would mean more than just rocks and stones in metal. I wonder if there's a way to petrify wood, though, so it would never decay, and I'd be able to make her a permanent wedding ring....

I dunno. Food for thought, I guess.

G'night all.

T-WAC

New Hair!

So, because I obviously don't have a 7-page draft due on next Tuesday and am very much secure in my topic of research, I've decided to post on my blog.

He said, a rancidly dry tone in his voice.

I've decided to post about something new I did this year.

But first, remember, back on New Years in 2013, when I talked about how 2013 was gonna be a year of change, excitement?
Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh, no.
In any way, shape, or form.
2013 had a lot of crazy crap that went on, which ended with my parents both deciding to live in separate houses for an indefinite (and probably permanent) period of time.
Hooray.
But not really.
It totally sucks beyond belief.

But I digress.
2013 was a year of living with sucky circumstances. It was tough.
But 2014, on the other hand....
That's turning out quite well as the year of change. So what if it's a year late, right? I'm liking this.
One of the things to change is my hair.

That's right.
My hair.
Both head and beard.
Now, for those of you who know me well, or have known me for a long time, this comes as quite a shock. Since I was 11 or 12, I have grown my hair long. I have also had a long beard.
Well, as of now, the beard is trimmed and the hair is.... Well, very trimmed.
Here's a pic.

I look a lot different now. And y'know what? I like it.
In spite of the fact that I have the hair equivalent of phantom limb pain, and will impulsively reach up and feel the back of my head where my ponytail used to be and wonder why it's not there, and every night will reach up to take the elastic out of my hair and suddenly realize with shock and awe thinking "oh my gosh, where is it? It's... it's not there... it's gone."
This has been happening for a week now.
Moral of this story: don't have the same hair for eight years. It really messes with your mind.

In other news: I decided to come out of my shell and sing in front of people.
As a songwriter and singer, I need to be able to come out and show people my art.
And I was given that opportunity a few weeks ago.
I was going to audition with my college's music club for the talent show, and it was half an hour before and I thought, "man, I want to conquer my fear of singing in front of people, and here I am, I have an opportunity to do it. I'm going to regret not doing it, so what the heck? What's the worst they can do, tell me I suck?"
While I was waiting for my turn to audition, I briefly went over the chords to "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Tears For Fears, then, when I was called in, I sang it and accompanied myself on the piano. I shook violently the entire time, and I mean shook, I was barely able to remain standing on my feet, but I made it through.
A week later, I got a call, saying I'd made it in.
I'm psyched. I've arranged an entire piano accompaniment to it.
Well, took little bits of piano accompaniment that I learned from sheet music, and then put my own twist on it. I like it so far. It's very different, but I like it.

Anyway, remember that paper I don't have due on Tuesday?
Yeah, and that research I'm super secure in?
Yeah, gotta get back to that.
I'm liking the changes this year has brought, though, and there'll definitely be more on those.

Good to be back,
See you soon.

T-WAC
The upgraded, short-haired, goateed version. LOL