Things of interest


"Home is not places, it is love." -- "Home Is Not Places" by The Apache Relay

Fairy Poodle

Fairy Poodle

My Thoughts

Sing loudly, passionately, with all your heart, for you've nothing to lose.

Monday, April 21, 2014

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.


Friday, April 18, 2014

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.



Do Not Eat the Fairy Poodle!

Do Not Eat the Fairy Poodle!