At a Loss

Dear thoughts and writings, when you get back into town, let me know.  Okay?  No worries about you being gone for a couple of days, that happens.  But just, at least call me and let me know you're okay.  That you'll come back eventually.

I know, sometimes life gets hectic, and instead of sticking around, you just sort of take a break.  So that way you're around when necessary, and otherwise on vacation.

It's just, I could still do things if you were around.  So, just come back and stay.  Don't go, necessarily, so far away.

I miss you.  At least, I think I miss you.  Without you around to let me know how I feel, sometimes I'm just not sure.

Sincerely, and with love, though possibly just one or the other,

-Kevin.

PS: Totally send this to your girlfriend.  Every hour on the hour.  Maybe more often.  The needing them to know how you feel bit is ideal.  Trust me on this one.

California Schools Are Not Political

California schools "Totally don't care whether you vote yes on prop 30.  But you should vote yes."

California schools, outside of the school system really want Prop 30 to pass.  It means more money for a lot schools and helpful community services, among other State and community benefits.  Surely most teachers, not as an agent of the school system directly, would tell you Prop 30 is a great thing for education.

However, inside the school system, they absolutely don't care if it passes, or not.  The extent to which CSU doesn't care is most obvious.  CSU spokesperson Claudia Keith stated,   "We are not advocating one way or the other.  We are just laying out the facts." that was not the originally drafted sentiment, but "We will break your knees if Prop 30 isn't approved" was going to be a nightmare to implement.

They are not advocating one way or the other by delaying when students will be notified of their acceptance until, as a coincidence I suppose, after the election.  They are also sending out a non-political letter.  The letter states if Prop 30 doesn't pass then there may not be room for the school to accept as many students as they'd like.  The implication is, probably whoever gets that letter is one of those unacceptable students.  Again, this isn't the school taking sides though.  Any prospective student can still vote "No."  They can also not attend college, or wear underpants on their heads. CSU's letter is open to a great deal of possibilities.

There have also been rumblings of a few different actions to take in either outcome of Prop 30, passing or failing.  If prop 30 passes they say, they may refund spent tuition for students who paid in the previous year.  That's a common thing for colleges to do, when those colleges are wacky party animals, like CSU.  On the other hand if it fails, the school system has been considering: tuition increases, job cuts, lower enrollment rates, cutting athletic programs, combining staff and janitorial duties to clean up their administration, and on.

As a side note, I don't understand college finances so good.  But, if they are hurting for cash, would turning away prospective students help them?  Why wouldn't there be room for 6,000 extra tuition paying students?  6,000 students that would be paying a higher overall tuition?  Why, I'd guess it's just a political move intended to scare people into voting the way they want.  But, thankfully I've been reassured that's not the case.  Phew.

I really don't care much about whether Prop 30 is good or bad.  Schools should not be allowed to intimidate the students who give them jobs.

It'd be like me threatening potential employers.  Hey publisher of articles, if you don't publish this one, you might not be able to get articles from me in the future.  If you don't publish it, I've also thought about not eating, not working anymore, never going out with my friends, and probably calling Mom and telling her to bring me home because I'm a failure and it's all your fault.  But, do whatever you want.

But see, a publisher would know that's the stupidest thing they'd ever heard.  But prospective students might not realize it.  Either way, I don't care about whether or not people get angry at the school system for this, but it was a dumb intimidating tactic that deserves to be met with anger.

Road Trip D

Oh.  Look who it is.  Readers-too-good-to-donate again, eh?  Well, if that's the case, the pub is a mighty long walk away.  Also, we're increasing the amount of puns per post 100%. On to modern art!

Among the many intriguing modern art exhibits were things like: metal hangers bent in a way that made them completely useless as hangars, odd metal animals with well formed genitalia, squares painted on canvas, and a whole bunch of hand statues doing different hand like things with each other.  I mean, I really had to hand it to the artists here, they were by no means square.

There is also, on the way to the modern art side of the museum, a neat little artsy museumy cafe store.  With all the good food, and art books, and means of hemorrhaging funds you could ever want.  Also, the modern art side does have the coziest little couches to sit upon, right outside the bathroom.  So while your friends are all off galavanting about in the restrooms, you can sit down a moment, and appreciate the view of the wonderful museum store.

After seeing all the modern art we could bear, read: walking through as quickly as possible, our group decided we would head back to our friend's apartment, and fall over dead for a spell, before continuing on with our adventure.  After walking and driving for more of the day than most people were usually coherent, we needed a rest.

We rested.

Continuing on with our adventure got us back on the subtrain thingy, and we took that over a bit, and then decided we'd walk.  The walk was full of absolutely nothing.  There were no people saying hello.  There were no birds in the trees.  Even at the awkward 10 square foot grassy triangle referred to as a "park" was somehow devoid of people on this fine day of labor.

It was a bit of an eerie walk down the sun shining sidewalks of Washington D.C. We talked about things that people talked about.  At great lengths too.  Why, if my memory serves me right, we talked for fifteen or more minutes about how the sun was shining and no people were around.  Also about how there was a small grassy triangle that was referred to as a "park."  It even had a sign reminding people that it closed at 10:00pm, and was not to be used afterward.  You can't get more full-fledged and park-like than that!

The goal here was going to a pub and participating in a trivia night!  We came up with a very clever name for our trivia team.  It wow'd just about everyone there.  I'd share it with you, but the jealousy it would instill would be too much.  It was definitely nothing like "Some guys at a bar."  Really, nothing like that.

Trivia nights exist to remind you that you know a few weird things, and together with some other people, you know a great deal of oddly useless information.  Common trivia questions are like, "Who said "I am a professional NBA player, and I'll throw my peas against the wall whenever I want to!"?"  The answer in that case, is Howard Hughes.  Crazy crazy Howard.  That's how his home boys referred to him.

Anyways, during trivia, one of the members of our adventure, whose father may or may not have scaled school rooves professionally, had a bit of a squeaky chair.  We encouraged him to sit down quickly.  He did, and his chair protested, and veritably shattered into many splintered pieces.  Suffice to say that for the rest of our trip our friend was leery about sitting down anywhere.  Never again will he fall for the classic, "Hey why don't you sit in this chair here." prank.  I'm currently innovating a more devious, "Hey could you possibly use this here chair here as a ladder" prank.  I'll encourage him to jump up on it, for stability's sake.

Tune in next time on Road Trip to hear about a surprise visit to Chicago!

Part the first, Road Trip A
Part the second, Road Trip B
Part the third, Road Trip C
Part the this one, Just ah.  Just scroll up.

Industry Jobs

You're sitting at home wondering, "How can I make money, doing what I love the most?"  If you're anything like me I'll have you know: that's gross.  No one will pay you for that.  But, when it comes to getting paid for what you like second, or third most, I've accumulated some helpful pointers that will get you a job in your desired field.

First you've got to apply.  The old fashioned way is best, but if you haven’t any experience taking hostages and negotiating, you can attempt giving your resume and cover letter directly to the hiring manager.  Depending on exact methodology, either of those techniques could potentially lead to jail time.  Or an interview.

Now, many people who haven’t interviewed recently, or at all, forget important interview preparation rules.  First make sure the moon is between the Waning and Waxing Gibbous phase.  Second, write down some questions you’ll want to ask the interviewer like, “Do you have any single daughters?”  Also, no matter how much you need the job, refrain from saying, “If I don't get this job my children will starve and I really just want this, please give me this job."  Because interviewers hate children. Also, as a final note before we get to our actual interview question and responses from an actual interview, if you’re asked, “How would your last boss describe you?” they don’t mean literally.

Now, actual interview questions, and their ideal answers:

Interviewer: Hello, thank you.  Please sit down.. Mr?

Unemployed Schlup: Oh, I’m Unemployed Schlup.

Interviewer: Please, sit down you poor schlup.  Let’s get right to it.  Do you think humans need to be paid, to be content with their work?

Unemployed Schlup: Haha, thanks, that’s a great question Gene.((Use this name in all situations))  Thanks for asking.

Interviewer: What have I done?

Unemployed Schlup: Well, not to be too genial, ha-ha, here, but I've been hard at work((insert gratuitous telling winks)) on a personal project of mine, that showcases that I’m a dedicated, intelligent, fun-loving, gay-friendly, enjoys-long-walks-on-the-beach kind of employee.

Interviewer: Alright, great, great, that’s great.  Good.  So, do you have any pet peeves?

Unemployed Schlup: Hearing the word 'walk' and not getting to go on a walk, not being allowed food from the table, and generally being tripped over or kicked, when I've snuck up behind someone’s legs.  Though sometimes, it just seems like attention, so I like it then.

Interviewer:  Alright.  Alright, thank you for your time.  We’ll be in contact with you Unemployed Schlup.

It’s important to follow up with an email or a phone call and thank your interviewer while reasserting your interest in the position.  The best time is before the interview is over, to thirty seconds after it ends.  Otherwise the interviewer may wonder if you were really passionate for the job, or if you just had a spare resume and tailored-to-their-company-cover-letter lying around and figured, "why not?"

Businesses understand that times are hard, and will do their best to get back to you in two to four months.  Until then, you should work at your father’s magnificent farm, and enjoy laboring in your desired field.

A Bump in the Day

Was he a monster?  He didn't think so.  It wasn't like he was out, sobbing in his car trying to regain composure because he wanted to kill someone.  He was pretty sure most murderers didn't get their title for being sad sacks.

But.  He definitely hit someone.  His arm cut in front of his face at a most inopportune time, trying to wipe away the snot and tears from obscuring his vision.  Then, that was that for someone else's day.  He knows people who hit and run are evil, no good, a waste of space, and that's just what he was thinking before he did it.  That he was no good.  That he was a waste of space.

The space he had been occupying was nice enough.  Some crickets found their way inside at night.  The shower sometimes didn't spray water, so much as dribble a bit out, like a baby new to eating.  But otherwise, it was nice.  Quaint even.  A pretty tiled floor in the kitchen, and a pristine white carpet covering the rest of the apartment.

It was mocking him, the niceness of the place.  He couldn't afford it for long, was just passing through.  Except, he was doing a shitty job of passing through, and the solitude of the place was haunting him.  Or maybe he was haunting him.  So he had to get out.  He had to just get into his car and drive.  Somewhere.  Away from that nice place.  But, the kind of nice you can't touch.  Because it'll fall apart right then.

So he got out.  He got in his car.

At first it was great.  He was out.  But it couldn't last.  After driving for who knows how long, he figured out the ironic punch line.  The funny thing was, he was going to turn around and go back to his oppressor.   He had to.  All his stuff was there.  All his hope of getting out of the place, was wrapped up neatly within the place.  That's when he started sobbing.

Not a full sob at first.  At first it was a funny sort of sniffle.  One where he looked at the rear view mirror,  saw half of his own face and said, "No."  He said it aloud.  To himself.  Inner monologues just aren't as effective when you're trying to prevent sadness.  Sadness needs a firm verbal command.  Then, his face scrunched up in an interesting way.  As if to say, "Hey, I kind of smell something, and there's something in my eye all at once."  It was a smile, if smiles were hideous things that only made you want to cry when you saw it.  He saw it.

Then tears came.  He told himself he could stop at any time.  He giggled a little.  Felt like he was addicted to tears.  That was sort of funny.  He told himself that all the snot leaking out his nose would just go away when he wanted it to.  That he'd --

bump.

It wasn't even, a catastrophic bump.  Well, not for him.  He was sure the person he hit died.  So, if you die, that's probably catastrophic.  He wasn't sure of the exact definition, but thought fuck it, that's gotta be close enough.  He wasn't sure how it could have killed them, it was such a little, barely noticeable bump.  But, he was a monster after all. Maybe when he bumped, it was worse.  A big bump from him could have leveled the city for all he knew.

He had to run.  If he ended one life, what was the point in staying there, and waiting for someone else to end his?  Sure, it was shitty.  He wasn't happy about it, but what else could he do?  Go to jail for being a cry-baby?  While he appreciated he may gain respect if he said that, and followed it up with immediately murdering someone while sobbing, in front of a large group of people, that wasn't going to be his Plan A.  He drove the fuck away.

Stopped crying pretty fast though.  He thought, maybe that person was a practical joker.  Maybe, they were just lying down, and would pop right back up after they realized no one was laughing at their joke.  This made him laugh.  He started laughing hysterically.  What a good joke.

He pulled his car up, back at the nice place.  He parked his smeared, dirty car on the street.  There wasn't room in the driveway for it.  He got out of the car, and slowly approached the apartment.  Tentatively, he opened the door to go in.  It let him in.  The house didn't care he was a killer now.  Didn't care at all.

He cared.

But, it was just all so funny.  He couldn't stop laughing.

That is, until he stopped laughing.

He stopped laughing when the biggest punchline hit home.  This punchline was not articulated with a guffaw, but instead a deep silence.  Not even the cricket, on the tiled floor, next to the white carpet, could find it in itself to chirp, even a little bit.

It was one of those jokes, that just wasn't funny.


Note:  This is 100% more fictional than my blog usually is.  That's not to say my blog is usually true, but this is much more story like.  I would have put this disclaimer at the top, as that's where you put disclaimers, but then no one would have been dragged into the story by it's initial inquiry.  So forgive my poorly placed disclaimer, but in case you hadn't noticed, the above is a story.

Self Help Book

So, recently I've been trying to learn a lot on my own.  There are a lot of resources out there that can really guide and improve your abilities in whatever field you want.  The internet is great for finding and checking reviews on that sort of thing.  I took a gamble and got one, "How to Cook Gorillas."

I've heard that gorillas are really tasty, and was hoping to get into gorilla-cooking, and see if it was for me.  A lot of the reviewers said they sure wish they had read this book before they started cooking gorillas, because their first gorillas came out awful, and this book pointed out all of their mistakes and so on.

So I was ecstatic and excited.

Then, I got to the book, and it was filled with useful headings and content like,
((note, I say "like" above, but this is verbatim.))

"So you're never cooked a gorilla"

I'm a very successful gorilla meat cooker.  I used to be a lowly homeless slacker, who didn't even own an oven.  Through passion, and dedication for gorilla meat, I built up a lot of great cooked gorilla meat and sold it.  I'm now more than stupidly wealthy, and I didn't even try hard.  I've never actually tried hard in my life, and I'm going to tell you exactly how not trying very hard led to great success on my end.  It's mostly about getting lucky, and reading this book will help you in the getting lucky department.(Note: pun intended, but untrue.  You won't get lucky like that.  But you'll definitely get lucky in the other way, without trying, if you buy and read this book cover to cover.)

"The best way to cook a gorilla"


Gorillas are completely delicious, and if you add just the right spices they'll be even more wonderfully delicious.  Why, one time when I wanted to have some gorilla, I just added some really good spices, and that really made the gorilla stand out, and it was a delicious gorilla. All my friends said, "Wow this is such a good gorilla, you added some really great spices."  So that's what you should do, add some really good spices, and make your gorilla stand out.

After you've added some really good spices to the gorilla, you're probably going to have to cook him.  Most people would cook him, and cooking the gorilla would really add to the overall flavorfulness of that gorilla.  If you'd really prefer not to cook him, you don't have to.  As I said before, gorilla tasting is a very personal experience, and no one can tell you how to do it.  But you should definitely cook the gorilla, or else it won't be very good.

"How to sell your cooked gorilla"

Alright, now that you've learned all about how to properly cook a gorilla, we're going to have you sell the gorilla.  Probably your friends will want to sell their cooked gorillas too, in which case they should definitely read this book.  You may want to give them this book, because it was so helpful to you.

Anyways, what you're going to want to do is find someone who buys gorilla meat.  Then you're going to want to sell them your gorilla meat.  If the buyer is looking for Lowland gorilla meat, you're going to want to make sure your gorilla meat is Lowland gorilla meat.  It's not unheard of to sell really good Mountain gorilla meat to a Lowland gorilla meat buyer, but usually people buying Lowland gorilla meat want to buy Lowland gorilla meat.

"How to deal with rejection"

It's a sad but true fact that everyone faces rejection, especially gorilla meat cookers and sellers.  You're going to have to make that a part of your repertoire.  You'll probably face a whole lot of rejection, just like I did.  Don't worry, I only spent about two hours a day trying to sell gorilla meat, and after just a week of doing that I sold my first batch!  That seller quickly died of food poisoning, and I was again out of work.  But I wasn't put down, I just kept on trying to sell my gorilla meat, and after hearing "No that's infected bad gorilla meat." hundreds more times, I finally sold another batch.  Then, as the fates were against me, that seller also died of food poisoning.  Never one to give up, I just kept selling and selling, and now I've got more money than my wazoo can hold!

Hope you enjoyed reading, and that this book is as helpful to you as it was to me!  Not that I had this book, haha, I wrote it!  But, I did all of these things myself, and that's how I know it will work for you too.

Thanks again,

-Author Brooks

If only I could have figured out that information on my own.  Instead, I spent money on a book that explained, in detail what I had to do to make and sell gorilla meat.  This book was also filled with review after review saying, "When I first started selling gorilla meat, well, let's just say it wasn't as easy as this book makes everything for new readers! Haha."  and, "Golly, author Brooks really knows his gorilla meat, and it's clear because of how many times he says gorilla meat in the book itself.  Go ahead, try and count!  It's just too high, haha.  But honestly, this is a great gorilla meat primer for anyone interested in the gorilla meat industry.".

I'm sure those people meant it enthusiastically, and definitely and really read the whole thing, and it revolutionized their gorilla meat selling careers.  The kind of book I look for in self help is the kind that's as full of itself as the Titanic was of water near the end there.  This book was so much more full than that.  I'd recommend it to anyone, who ever wanted to see how many times they could bear reading a single repeated upbeat phrase before they exploded.

My guess is about 16 pages of actual reading.