The Numbers of Life

A: A few nights ago I cried while watching an episode of Grey's Anatomy. It was the first time I have cried in nearly two years. I am not afraid to admit about when I do, but I hardly ever cry ever since I graduated high school. This is probably because I have no feelings.

2: I am always happy when I come home after a hard day's work and add my tips to my slowly growing wad of cash. Then I realize that all that cash will soon be going toward my freakishly expensive credit card bill, and I die a little inside.

3.141: Pumpkin and French Silk are the only pies I will consume, for they are the best and tastiest. No contest. If you disagree, I will make you die a little inside.

IV: I think that the first trilogy (though second universe-chronologically speaking) of the Star Wars universe were decent movies. However, George Lucas has now gone crazy with his vision, and it would have been better for everyone involved if he had just not made Episodes I to III. Except for Natalie Portman, she rules.

.....: If anyone else is as entertained by my choice of bullets for this inane post, then perhaps the world should re-think its breeding policies. If there are more than one of us out there... it does not bode well for the survival of the human race.

Sextuplets: Whoever decided to make the mathematical term for six of something to be prefixed by "sex" was really not considering a middle school geometry class in their calculations. Although I now can say "sextet" without giggling [much], I cannot count the times that our whole class would bring up six-sided shapes just to hear the teacher say its name, "sextagon"! ... Oh, wait, is it not "hexagon"? ... Crap, our teacher was a pervert!

Evensay: Erhapspay eatingay ourfay Arstay Unchescray orfay innderday isay otnay ethay ealthiesthay ayway ofay ivinglay. Iay ouldshay ethinkray ymay ethodsmay ofay ocerygray oppingshay.

9: Hast du meinen Affen geseign? Ich bein schlagsagen.

The Square Root Of One Hundred: Mathematics is truly my favorite subject in all of the world. It makes me a thousand times more sad when I cannot solve a simple equation (involving change for instance) versus when I cannot remember what my close friends' names are, for instance. Is that bad?

ll: I use any opportunity I have to make a wish. Whether it be touching the clock when the minutes equal the hour (though it only truly counts when it is on a twenty-four hour clock or in the double digits [for hours] on a regular one), blowing away an eyelash, seeing a shooting star, or saying "peanut butter" when you go over railroad tracks.

6+6: What do I wish for? If I told you it would not come true.

Lucky Number: Oh fine, I wish for a pony.

Today's Date: Nothing exciting happened today, but that is because yesterday was Friday the 13th. I told everyone to whom I delivered pizzas that I almost died about thirteen times going to their house, which was a lie. I did this about thirteen times before I realized it was not as funny as I had hoped. I then really did almost die thirteen times on a way to one guy's house, but I did not tell him, thinking he would not believe me because I had been telling everyone the same story. It did not occur to me that he did not know that.

One Five: If I were going to remake all the numbers, I know what the first one to go would be. The teens. Without rhyme or reason, they do not follow the same pattern as the ones before them, and the twenties and on after. Who wrote this language, and why were they so illogical?

Sweet: Some of you may complain that "the teens" is not one, specific number, as I alluded to immediately before exposing the proposed reconstruction of number-hood. All I have to say to you is this. Six, sixteen, twenty-six, thirty-six... etc. Even though it sounds horrible to us now, it could have easily been teen-six, or tensix, or something far less dumb and confusing then it is.

The Age I Got My Driver's License: I got in an accident while I was pulling away from the DMV after passing my test. Sorry about that Poppy!

Adulthood: I do not think a majority of people, when they hit a certain age, suddenly become competent enough to decide for themselves whether they should smoke, join the army, vote, or any number of things. That being said, I do not think many so-called "adults" really deserve these privileges either, so I guess it would not help if we delayed it.

Dix-Neuf: Despite the fact that it does not happen until the late "teens", the French actually put ten in front. I applaud their half-assed effort.

You Thought I May Not End: If someone can explain the reasoning behind each and every bullet point, and what it has to do with the content that follows, that person would be me... and then they would be too sexy for their shirt.

The Alphabet of Life

Apple: One a day will not keep the doctor away, no matter how hard you throw it. I have, however, found that other items may be useful in this venture. They are: garlic, holy water, silver bullets (these are no more effective than regular bullets, but I think you should silver-ize them anyway), and not having health insurance.

Bear: What kind is the best? If you answered 'black' then you are wrong. The correct answer is actually Smokey. He rocks your socks off, and remember, only you can refrain from idiocy and fire-starting activities, I get to keep doing it.

Creativity: One of the many things I do not lack. Another is modesty.

Death: I am determined to live forever or die in the attempt.

Egg: I like to put all of mine in one basket. I find splitting them up into multiple baskets diminishes the effectiveness of the individual basket and makes it feel bad. Some people might follow this same procedure and just use smaller eggs so that in the event of an accident, less is wasted, but I just remind them that an omelette cannot be made without breaking a few eggs, so why not just enjoy breakfast?

Fence: I have one around my heart, but it is made of candy. Poison candy.

Gikik: In high school, one of my identification cards randomly did not get printed correctly. Instead of my name, my student ID number, and a bar code, it had a white space with "Gikik" printed in the middle. Who or what "Gikik" is I may never know, but I am glad to have been a part of it.

Headlight: For some reason I can never remember to turn mine off, even though I have no need to turn them on in the first place because they are the daytime running kind. What does this mean, psychologically speaking?

Ism: I do not believe in isms, I just believe in me.

Jelly: I prefer it over jam any day. I could not actually tell you which one was which, but jam just reminds me of traffic, which I hate. Therefore, it loses.

Kaleidoscope: The color that I see and identify as "green" may very well be completely differently seen by you, to such a degree that your colors are not at all the same as mine. Perhaps everyone's favorite color (while varying by name) is actually the same color after all. So, next time someone asks you what your favorite color is, punch them in the nose and steal their wallet.

Lorax: If he were around today, do you think he would be happy? I think so. I think he would really like DQ Blizzards. I know I do.

Milk: Am I the only one who thinks that drinking the baby food for a completely different species is a little odd? Why the heck did this whole practice start, and why can I not stop eating ice cream? Delicious ice cream... mmm...

No: Negative. Absolutely Not! No Way! As If! Puh-lease! Whatever. Think Again. I Don't Think So! What? Maybe. Outlook Not So Good. Not Even If You Were The Last Man on Earth. [silence] Get a Life! Yeah Right. *sigh* Know.

Oversleeping: Monday night [Tuesday morning] I stayed up until 4:30 AM working on my homework so that I could be a good student and have it all done before class. I then proceeded to fall asleep and wake up at 11:15 AM (my class goes 7:30 AM to 10:20 AM) to the sound of my boss calling me and asking if I was planning on coming in to work (I was scheduled at eleven o'clock). Thursday morning was a similar scene, though my body woke me up at 8:30 AM instead of after class was over. Missing 1½ out of 3 classes so far is no good. Conclusion: Doing homework is bad for your health.

Pizza: For your information, tipping a delivery guy less than $3 is usually unacceptable. If you can afford to pay whatever the markup between store-bought, home-cooked, and pre-cooked, hand-delivered food is, then you can also spare the extra cash for the person bringing it to your door. Give a hoot, don't be cheap.

Quandary: Johnny has 12 crayons. He gives 4 crayons to Julie. He gives 3 crayons to Lindsey. He gives 5 markers to Robert. How many crayons does he have left? Bonus Point: Who does he like best? You might say it was Robert, but actually it is Stephanie. He gave her something else behind the seesaw.

Recess: It is most certainly the best subject in school, and now I hear that some schools are actually removing it from their schedule in order to promote safety and cut down on acting out. I tell you, who is more likely to be a problem child, the kid who hates school and is stuck there non-stop for eight hours at a time? or the kid who hates school but gets to be a pirate for a half-hour after lunch? Nine times out of ten I bet the pirate kid is crazy. Way to go school system for curbing his hallucinations and keeping me safe!

Shoe: The next time you are about to get angry or upset at someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way, after you are finished, you are a mile away and you have their shoes.

Tango: It may take two, but it should also be pointed out that three is too many. I cannot count the amount of times in my life that I have been part of a mixed-sex group of three friends who wound up in some sort of convoluted romantic triangle. If you find yourself in this situation, investigate two things: are you not getting whatever feelings you have towards one of the members reciprocated? and are the other two are hanging out without you? If they are, start finding some new friends, you just entered "Third Wheel Town".

Underwater: Adventures of any kind are very fun. If I ever get the chance, I plan on seeking lost civilizations, and I will start in the ocean. That way, if I end up not finding them, at least I could say that I was a mermaid once. I would be lying, obviously, but I would know a whole lot about the animals under there so maybe I could convince some people it was a true story.

Vandalism: Here is a day in the life of Wikipedia. "Dum-de-dum-dum... just going to work to be the awesomest website ever. La-de-da... helping people learn about stuff they did not even know they wanted to know about. Do-de-do... I am so great. Wait, oh my GOSH!!! Some random contributer is falsifying information on various articles! Please stop the madness! Those poor researchers will now think that agriculture started ten years ago instead of ten thousand! Is there anybody out there? I am dying... *cough cough* Please help me!" Stop the spread of misinformation; kill a Wiki-vandal today.

Weatherman: My superhero persona controls the weather. He wears a sky-blue spandex body suit (to represent the sky), grey shorts (clouds), a clear cape (wind), a yellow helmet (the sun), black boots (the earth), a rainbow belt (rainbows), and a badge on his chest that changes based on the current weather. Also, he carries a squirt gun to combat the Wicked Witch, Quick-Dry Cement Man, and thirst.

X: The most useless letter of the alphabet can easily be replaced by substituting e, k, and s for wherever it may be needed. Yeah, I know there are exceptions, but c'mon, why does xylophone not start with z? English is stupid, that is why.

Yarn: I think kitties have it all figured out. They can be content playing with whatever happens to be found on the floor. I think we should all live our lives in such a fashion: care-free and easily entertained. I am not advocating we all do our business in the sandbox though, that would just be unsanitary.

Zoo: Yup, still depressing.

Celebrate the Independence of Your Nation By Blowing Up a Small Part of It

note: the videos on the page have disappeared from the Internet; who would have thought we'd ever stop using MySpace?!

Epilogue to Costa Rica

(This interview was administered on 25 June, 2007 [now-time])

Luke: Welcome back dear readers! We have a special treat for you today because it just so happens that we have delved into the deeply paradoxical, complicated land of time-travel! Well, not today exactly. More like about two months ago. One week after I returned from Costa Rica actually. I am here today (two months ago) talking to--well--myself.

Luke: How did you get in here? Who are you? Why are you talking to yourself?

Luke: Ooh, this is going to be difficult. Being that we both have the same name I am going to have to think of different ways to determine who is talking at what time. How about I be "Luke [present]", and you be "Luke [past]"?

Luke [past]: How about not you crazy person! I know I certainly would not let my beard grow to such tremendous proportions, especially when it looks so ugly. Besides, why do you get to be "Luke [present]" when, clearly, I am from the present and—supposedly—you are from the future. You should be "Luke [future]"!

Luke [future]: Well, obviously our interviewee does not really understand the complexities of time-travel; perhaps "Luke [dumb]" would be more appropriate...

Luke [dumb]: Why you son-of-a-

Luke [present]: Hey now! There are children that might be watching.

Luke [dumb]: Seriously! I am not going to tolerate this! Either I am "Luke [the-best-Luke-in-the-time-stream]" or I will not participate in this interview.

Luke [the-real-one]: Sure. Fine then. We should get this started because we have already wasted enough time.

Luke [the-blurst-Luke-in-the-time-stream]: Whatever. Ask me some--hey! "Blurst"?

Luke [the-real-one]: Oops! Sorry, honest mistake.

Luke [the-best-Luke-in-the-time-stream]*: Suuure. I hate you.

Luke [the-real-one]: On with the questions! So, how does it feel to be back in the United States?

Luke [the-best-luke-in-the-time-stream]: Well, I am unemployed, cold, and I have no money. So... kind of sad.

Luke [the-real-one]: I see. Well, at the risk of destroying the universe, I will go ahead and tell you that you will get a job at Galactic Pizza and everything will be super soon enough. Oh, and have fun in Texas too!

Luke [the-best-Luke-in-the-time-streem]: Oh? Sweet! So I actually go to Texas? How is-I mean...uhh... was it?

Luke [the-real-one]: Who is doing the interview here? Me. Maybe I will let you in on what happens later, but for now, my next question: now that you are back, what are you plans?

Luke [the-best-Luke-in-thee-time-stream]: Well... I am going to sit around and do nothing. Apparently I get I a job and I do not have to worry about anything, right? Why would I apply anywhere but Galactic Pizza?

Luke [the-real?-one]: Hrm... that is not good. Perhaps I should not have told you about your future. If you change what I did, then maybe it will not happen the same way... which would be bad.

Derek [the-best-Derek-in-the-time-stream]: ...or will it? or would it have been? Wow, time-travel is confusing.

Luke [th3-r3al???-on3]: Uh oh, it is also dangerous! I can already see the universe collapsing around us because you changed—will change—history!

Frtrl {yjr+nrdy+Frtrl+om+yjr+yozr+dytrsz}; Frst Hpf? Ejsy od hpomh pm!

Luke ??? [+43=r3al???=0\/\3]: Well, that is it for today folks! I hope you still exist and I can get this all sorted out before lunch. I am hungry!

??? [???]: ???

Luke: Bye!

*Not really

One Moment Please...

Less than a week remains of my wonderfully informative voyage here in almost-South America. Since Saturday I have been free to do as I wish, as I finished my classes the day before, and I have been doing so extravagantly and excessively. I bring good tidings on the grade front as well: I got that paper done (and you thought I would never do it!), and I also got a 97% in my Spanish class, which is probably totally like the third highest grade ever (which was only brought down because I called the teacher a nasty name on accident, every day, and then in another freak accident, I hit her that time, with a sledgehammer).

But that is just water under the bridge, eh? Now I am on to bigger and better things, like watching movies in Spanish with nary an English subtitle to be seen. I swear, I understand at least three sentences, sometimes nearing about six; though one time it was eight (though, technically, four of them were the same, because they repeated the same thing over and over again… but I would say that counts… yes?)!

In addition, I have taken up residence with a Tico family (a new, different one), who I may have mentioned before. Chris, Angie, Harry, and Nesskens all love having me with them very much. So much that they rarely ever invite me to their house and then turn on the television, leaving me to my own devices for two hours for no apparent reason, followed by an awkward conversation about what “we” should do next time. Now they do not need to invite me, because I am already here. They can just do all those things with one less step, what luck! Seriously though, I think at least Angie enjoys my company because I actually wash my own dishes (and hers, and everyone else’s) as opposed to throwing them in the sink while she is washing other ones.

For the past three days I have visited a local high school and given a speech about myself for their English class (so, yes, it was in English). The teacher there is named Hilda Paniaqua (her last name means “bread and water”, which I find funny), and she told me I could come back anytime and help her out with pronunciation and what-have-you. Perhaps I shall. Lord knows that if the girls in my high school liked to tell me I am handsome and ask me out as much as these girls have been doing, I would have had a much more active love life. Alas, sadly most of them scarcely are even have 66% of my years behind their innocent brac—I mean faces, so it just is not meant to be. I shall just have to keep to myself following all those “No Sex Tourism” signs they have at the airport, because they are so darn convincing!

Unhappily I prepare to give Costa Rica my salutations and board the plane to Texas, crying the whole way. By the time I reach Minnesota, my face and airplane pillow should be dry, so I look forward to meeting whomever shows up with a cheery disposition and presents galore*. Of course, I do not expect anyone other than my mom (my other mom, not either one from here) to show up, because I think I left my car at her house, and I am going to need that back.

Next time you hear from me, I will sum up life in Costa Rica in one beautiful and heart-wrenching post, which will probably make you cry more than that one time Derek Shouster called you a “big fat dummy-face” and then stole your chocolate cupcake in third grade.

Well, maybe not. You did cry a lot back then, and it will probably be a tough contest. Gosh, what a baby you were!

I love you, almost as much as I love delicious, melty ice cream (which is a lot), and I will see you soon!

P.S. Actually, I am pretty sure that I love delicious, melty ice cream a whole lot more than I love you, because I am not consuming your inexpensive (only $1!) and caramely (oh goodness the caramely goodness!) body at the moment, which means you have a long way to go; maybe next time.

*One of these two things may be in short supply, though that is a surprise for another day

Parace Un Tanto Sin Mama

It is my pleasure to inform you that your hopes for my well-being here, in Costa Rica, are still fulfilled at the utmost, though I cannot pinpoint or foresee a time when this would not be the case, because, as you know, eternal optimism makes for an arduous time of anything obstinate to tranquility and contentment.

My studies here are varied and interesting, and perhaps now is the time wherein elaboration on their merits is idyllic. Although I learn more in the hours I spend outside of the institute where the classes proper are held, they still make for an entertaining pastime.

Four hours a day, five days a week, I have Spanish class. This consists of myself and up to three other students discussing the previous day in ‘preterito perfecto’ and then playing flash card games or watching movies from Spanish-speaking countries, though, sadly, with English subtitles. Despite the slow-moving and repetitive methods our teachers use, I still manage to learn a few new words each day, even considering all their efforts to the contrary. Coincidentally, it seems that whenever I discover a new word in my studies it shows up at least four and a half times later that day, which I think is rather convenient and encouraging.

One day a week, on Tuesdays, for four hours, I have Biology. Fifty percent of our class days have consisted of field trips to various locations around the country, usually concerning science only laterally, if at all. I still have yet to turn in a paper that was due before we left the United States, but given my suave and charismatic ways, I have extended the deadline accordingly. Of course, I will do it eventually, I need just a smidgen of time to collect my thoughts without so many dazzling activities to choose from.

One day a week, on Wednesdays, for three hours, I have Intercultural Communication. This is yet another class, in which morsels of information manage to be discovered, regardless of the teacher’s labors conversely. Our class discussions on the poorly written textbook exclusively exist for the teacher to expound on long-winded tangents and then insist he will sit on his hands (somehow this is supposed to prevent his interjections) for the remainder of the dialogue.

The real class, on the other hand, is life. Every day that I squander with my Tico friends or family leads me closer to my objective of not-looking-like-a-complete-tourist-when-I-go-outside-my-safe-zone. Perhaps the stress of these situations is the grounds for my malfunction, but I find that in the external world my speech skills devolve to that of a three year old (or myself, when I first arrived). The ten days I have after I finish classes are imminently approaching, and will surely test my limits, because most, if not all, of my English-speaking friends will have returned to the United States, thus leaving me with the only alternative of *gasp* speaking exclusively in Spanish!

Given that there are no comments from my many fans, I can only assume that I have been working diligently and adequately for your tastes, and that my saga is as engaging as it is verbose. However, if this were not the case, surely someone out there would inform me?

I thought so as well.

Have yourself a good week or two, and I shall be back whenever it is convenient for me, perchance with more news.

P.S. I was not actually mugged, as I reported earlier, which should be a given when evaluating most of my outlandish claims; however, in the past week three of my friends were robbed, something I find rather remarkable, as well as vaguely foreboding. Wish me luck in my final morsel of time here, so that I may not fall victim to armed robbers or assailants, and that I may return safely to my beloved home and “real” life (whatever that may entail).

¡Voy A Morir!

‘Family’ is a significant concept; so significant it that took me about twenty years, more or less, to realize its importance. To accept and love one’s family is a great step on the route to adulthood, and a stride that some would argue is essential in this end. It is with these thoughts in mind that I will now depict those who—perhaps crazy for allowing me to live here in the first place—are nonetheless agreeable and entertaining Ticos that I call ‘my family’.

Xinia (mom): The head of the household without question and my favorite mother ever. In addition, she is also the woman who graces me with her presence at all of my meals (in addition to cooking them) as well as being a substantial catalyst for my apprenticeship to the magnificent Latin language I now consider myself at the ‘Intermediate-Medium’ level of proficiency. I have scolded her constantly for not siring a daughter that I could have married, so that I should have lived in Central America and stay in her house for all time. She is one-and-forty years of age, got married when she was seventeen and seems to enjoy my sense of humor as much as anyone would require, sometimes more. Last night I may have irrevocably insulted her and her religious beliefs by attempting to explain (in jest, obviously) the concept of ‘autotheism’ and how it consists of me worshiping myself... (if I had a nickel for every time I affronted someone unintentionally I would never have to work again, and I could probably pay for some sort of classes about not-being-a-complete-idiot-and-toning-it-down-once-in-a-while, eh?)

Boliviar (dad): My father is relaxed and unobtrusive for the most part, even if he is constantly making light of somber subjects and being scolded by my mother. According to the information sheet I received when I first arrived here, he works as an ‘administrator’. This may be true, but I have never seen him out of the house for more than a few hours at a time, and he usually is home before I am (at around 1:00 PM most days) sleeping or watching television throughout the afternoon. What a neat job! He spiked his hair up into a mini-hawk recently, punches me incessantly, and furthermore attempted to scare a friend and me by wearing a Halloween mask and walking as though he had just ridden a horse for about a thousand miles. Do not be fooled! as this is all to be understood as a cover for his lightning fast kicking speed, with which he almost killed the same friend referenced before. He is four-and-fifty years of age, so if you do the math, you might find, that in Costa Rica that sort of thing apparently is ‘a-okay!’

Alejandro (youngest brother): Little Ale loves Yu-Gi-Oh! cards and being an eight-year old kid in general. In fact, in two days he will no longer have this luxury, for his years will have caught up with him and he shall turn a whopping nine years of age. He loves to play any game I can show him, though sadly I have only the few that are on my iPod and the default Windows Vista FreeCell, Solitaire, and the like. I could almost count on my hands and toes how many words he has actually said directly to me, even given his preference for sitting in my company watching me type or sort my music. I cannot wait to have kids so I can throw them about in a similar manner that I have grown accustomed to do with him.

Leonardo (middle brother): Leo is sixteen and home slightly more than I was at that age, which is not saying much. He supposedly knows how to speak English pretty well, but I have only heard him say “Hi!” and my name... and I am not sure my name counts entirely. Regardless, he is nice when he is around.

Estaban (oldest brother): ‘The Big E’ goes to school for computers, and works when he is not at school. Therefore, he is gone when I wake up in the morning, and does not come home until a few hours after I go to sleep. Of course, I habitually crash at around 8 or 9 o’clock at night, so his feat is not that astounding.

Chispa (family pet): The most schizophrenic little thing I have ever seen, the family dog loves to beg for food at the table. If you feed her, she will love you for at most, five seconds, before relapsing into a ferocious, bloodthirsty, wuss. Being that Chihuahuas are known for this type of behavior, I suppose I cannot blame her... but... c’mon! Really? Also, she is the only dog that I will ever condone dressing up in people clothes, because it is so darn cute and somehow it is okay... but only this one. No more.

Grandma, Luis, and the others: When I first arrived here there was a nice old lady that slept in the computer room and only once said something to me (while I was stretching, she made a motion as if to copy me and then laughed, mumbling Spanish the whole time... obviously I had no idea what she truly said, but I suppose it was a joke or something). She is no longer here, and if the family ever explained her relation it was lost on my complete lack of Spanish-speaking I have since rectified. It is for this reason that I just call her ‘Grandma’. Luis is a cousin of someone (I think) and works at Office Max six days a week, sixteen hours a day. He only comes by for dinner or breakfast—which my mother graciously provides—and then leaves without me ever seeing him go. I have met other family members like aunts and uncles, but they were but droplets in an ocean of stimuli that have since been lost in the expanses of my atrocious memory.

So there they are! Only a few weeks before I come home... but surely the knowledge will be put to good use. Tune in next time when I run out of money and only eat scraps from the table, like Chispa!

Toodles!