Another day in State College

Only in America...







http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/01/science/01muscle.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin#


...I mean seriously?

"so you're saying you used to write each individual letter with your hand... haha..oh your serious?"

"Josh, you tool. I can't believe you betrayed me for a device that represents a line of machines that will inevitably subvert the greater human intelligence in the universe and eventually take over the world. You're only a shell of the man I thought you were."

-my bank account





"Hey buddy, whats wro...oh don't cry. shhh, there-there, I'll be your friend. Don't you worry, I'll take care of everything."

-my new Macbook

Youtube some Batman Beyond- such a good series... You can be cool and do it at the same time.... I think.

"Putting a title in quotation marks makes it seem more significant, as if there must be more to it"

The end of today will mark exactly three weeks of work left for the summer, swish!

I'm almost nervous that I won't remember how to stand, or that my body will be immunocompromised from lack of contact with outside air. fingers crossed.

First draft lacked a title, the absence was inducing an obsessive disorder

An ode to the morning routine:







I'll admit it. Sometimes I go to bed with a casual smirk on my face at the prospect of enjoying my morning cup of coffee. 100 mg's of pure vein-constricting caffeine pulsating up to the brain in the morning is a paramount component of my daily constitution. But only one component. A man's morning routine is a sacred item, not to be tampered with. It also gives the meaning of "morning" a very relative nature. By my definition, "morning" includes, but is not limited to, the hour and a half time span after one wakes up, regardless of time of day. My morning doesn't discriminate against "mid-afternoon" or "late evening" and neither should yours. When I wake up, the first thing on my mind is successfully negotiating the hazy landscape of rug, hallways, and stairs up to the shower without tripping or smacking my knobby funny bone on whatever obstruction might be in the way. For some this might be a simple task but for me it's a test of physical and mental stamina as my recently awakened brain enters into battle with my activity-resistant muscle and nervous systems. Sometimes I think I might have been a stump in a previous life. On a typical day I have the primordial drive (survivalist attitude once again) to conquer my own inhibiting inertia and reach the shower. The shower marks the point of rebirth. In goes greasy-haired, puffy eyed, semiconscious and fully desensitized Josh, and out comes a rather dapper looking character smelling of coconut cream shampoo, with a suave disposition, and a slight ethereal glow. Kevin Derr once told me that showers get you slightly high because the water vapor created releases large amounts of oxygen into the air that you then inhale. Against my usual skeptical judgement, I have simply taken him at his word on this one. Regardless if it is true, I think I experience a placebo effect each morning and so emerge cool, calm, collected, and using the word "dude" in excess. From the shower I then proceed to the kitchen where I engage in the aforementioned drinking of the coffee. I like a standard two mug's worth: medium roast, dark brew, not too agressive a blend but something bitey enough that my taste buds have something to discuss with one another. I also like to have the morning paper by my side to add a level of sophistication to my ego, however, more often than not, I look down and see headlines such as "Centre County Dairy Princess Queened" and instantly regret my decision. I'm not a big breakfast eater but if I do decide to eat, my carb supplement of choice is usually the English muffin. As any experienced connoisser of European delicacies will tell you, every English muffin has two unique sides: the smaller and the bigger. This wouldn't present a complication if I didn't have two different spreads to apply, that of peanut butter and jelly, but alas, complications ensue. To make a decision on what side to give peanut butter or jelly would be like asking a parent to pick their favorite child. So I remedie the situation by making two muffins thereby giving me four halfs. I then apply each spread to a large half and a small half so no one is left out and then position them big-small-big-small, pb-jelly-jelly-pb, in a circular fashion around my plate. This is the only way to eat an English muffin and maintain order in the universe at the same time. Once the coffee is drunk, the muffins consumed, and the newspaper dissapointedly perused, I can then dub the morning as officially over. To preempt such a routine is blasphemy... especially with talk of summer reading for college... Mom!

currently wondering:

If I need a new hobby.

also, If paragraphs really aren't so overated after all.

Why Heath, why....

note: I know that it's "c'est la vie" and not "selah vee". it was intentional... we're not mainstream here.

---

Well, Batman scared me out of at least an octave's worth of vocal puberty development. This is okay though. I've been working on my falsetto singing voice anyway, in anticipation of my new up and coming band, The Falsetto Freakouts: bringing you the very best of Freddie Mercury and a few tastes of The Cranberries, and now there'll be less distinction between that and my normal voice. I'll be able to charm a whole legion of woodland animals to come dance the hokie pokie at will. It really is too bad Heath pulled a James Dean (and I say this because he did not kill him self) and died young. But then again, third movies in a trilogy have a way of dissapointing. ex Spiderman 3, Pirattes of the Caribbean 3, Land Before Time 3, so perhaps there is some silver lining. My advice is if you go and see it, take with you a childhood stuffed animal or blanket, or even a small puppie, to help you find your happy place when you find your self in a fetal position, sucking your thumb because Gotham City has sucked all the hope out of you. Just remember it is pretend.



in other news:

Today I reaped the unforeseen benefits of having a soon to be married sister at home. I was at work, as I still currently am, and was feeling rather famished. I called Anna to let her know I'd be working late, as the rest of the fam was out of town, and she asked if I wanted her to bring me something to eat. "sure maybe some pb&j or a bagel. You could toast the bread if your feeling gourmet."... A half hour later I'm handed a bag with a large dish of broccoli fettucini alfredo, two pieces of garlic bread, and a house salad. Beverages included a bottle of water and a cup of coffee for a revitalizing night cap. I could practically hear the wedding bells. The whole meal was energized with the presence of impending wifeness. Right place at the right time...yeah, this guy. Thank you Anna.




I must be going now. I just noticed a bunch of ants crawling around on the floor by my feet and now I keep feeling fake itches on my legs and arms. They keep turning out to be false alarms but I know the little buggers are planning something.

Still watching House. Still loving it.

Well if there ever was a suitable time to be sporting a freshly injected tattoo on my shoulder blade, it would have been this past weekend... but selah vee, eh? Arts Fest puts central PA on the map for four solid days each summer, ushering in the best and sometimes not so brightest of what the area has to offer. A cross section of the masses that flock to, and accumulate in, State College's humble abode would reveal everything from trendy aspiring artists, belligerent frat boys, rambunctious teenagers, and the more docile regulars who savor the yearly traditions. My particular favorites are the various practitioners of the first amendment who take up rank on the sidewalk at the intersection of College and Allen. Three you can usually rely on are the anti-war protestors, the marajuana legalization hippies (skipped out this year), and at least one street preacher telling us we're all going to hell. The former of which I say more power to you, the latter of which I think just needs a hug. And then of course the weekend always finds closure on Old Main lawn for the Earthtones concert where it is persuasively argued that the complexities and problems of this world can be easily remedied with reggae music and undignified dancing. Hard to disagree. In the end I appreciate every aspect, good or bad, for being a contributing factor in what I've come to know and love as Arts Fest weekend. Of course now that it is over, it begs the question of what to do now in State College...

















.... not sure.


I did wake up this morning with an inexplicable urge to play chess. To satiate this desire will require me first to relearn how to play chess... and then to find somebody willing to get on my socially compromised level and play me....offer is out there (game only valid if played outside at a park or in a library. wardrobe must consist of anything your grandpa might wear).

The best advice I can give to the general public is to find a frisbee and take to the grass. Your day will instantly feel better. Air crisper. Sun brighter. Sky bluer (more blue?).

We Will Overcome.

-For Michael Doud.

stiff upper lip kid. stiff.

"I plan on being a college drop out in two years."...."I'm not sure that's something your supposed to plan dude."

College is now 46 days away and in light of its nearing presence I've been considering what it's going to take to survive. A list of essential items to be sent off with. Now I'm not exactly planning on being completely destitute or necessarily limited to a bare minimum life style (although it's definitely within the realm of possibility), but I've recently read Into The Wild and I watch a lot of survival shows on Discovery Channel (as well as McGyver) so I like to entertain fantasies of a survivalist lifestyle. Things seem cooler that way. If I think of New York City as a type of concrete jungle, me against its elements, my life becomes that much more interesting. This is what I have thus far.



Munchies:


coffee

english muffins

granola

peanut butter

ibuprofen

yogurt

coffee

meat

pizza bagel bites



Non Munchies:


computer- (to carry with me in case I need to look up ways to survive without technology, ex. camping in central park)

moleskine notebook- (so I can look contemplative and poetic at will, especially when dining at hip coffee shops)

tactful assortment of smart sounding books I've never read- (to make my roommates and those who frequent my apartment think I'm a lot smarter than I am)

hammock- (just really want one)

ipod- (to carry on me with prerecorded positions on various political and world issues so I can cheat when conversing with my peers. also music)

lay z boy recliner- ( I suspect it will transcend the generational gaps indefinitely)

-donate at will.

news bulletin:

-Just watched Across The Universe. Besides being an awesome movie, it's one of those movies that effectively makes smoking look cool: currently wishing my asthmatic lungs were infallibly withstanding so I could be a paint flinging, chain smoking, scarf wearing, free spirited artist.

-Recently burned some cash at Denny's: looking forward to being old so I can qualify for the senior discounted meals on the last page of the menu. How righteous it will be.

-Penn State is right now hosting the largest tournament in the state for high school girl basketball players: currently terrified of a all high school girl basketball players... it's just not what you'd expect.

Who's ready for the Dark Knight?- This Guy

"What, you wanna mess with the Geo?... You wanna talk about the environment? Yeah let's talk about the environment ******!!" -Miles Cummins: from the backseat with conviction.

Kind of like a vespa with four wheels, the Geo metro, at first glance, doesn't come off as the kind of vehicle that would evoke feelings of ego-driven, defensive pride, or shouts of derisive smack talk on the down town strip, but behold: to each his own. One man's pansy-feathered, four cylinder, glorified gulf cart, is another man's beacon of speedy stealth, deceptive agility, and a delightfully well endowed fuel economy. There's nothing macho about spewing dollar bills out the tail pipe or your GMC Denali, but everything sexy about over 40 mpg highway coming from the light weight's corner - suckha!

also. Cheers to Lemonsoul. I was just at a concert they put on at the diamond in Boalsburg. Old men laughed, young men sang, children frolicked, and house moms got to relive the glory days- wine glass in hand, a carefree sway, and old memories of when Tom Petty would sing them through the night (tonight Dan Vidmar will have to do!). I was reminded that Rusted Root is synonymous with summer time music and that once Matt Kenny starts dancing in any social setting, it's impossible to feel shy your self. There are times when I know I will miss this town and getting my suburban socks rocked off is one of them.

cynicism: so hot right now

get some.

- For Cool Ethan