Current mood - kill the world

I am unreasonablely pissed at the world right now, and that makes me even more angry. I didn't do anything today until like 4. That was depressing. When I finally got off my ass, I decided to go for a drive (and by drive I mean screaming up the twistiest mountain road I could find). The only problem with that was that my mom had taken my car, due to the fact that hers was having trouble starting. So I decided to go into town and get a few things. About a quarter of the way there, it started sputtering and just making funny noises. I turned around and went home. Since the driving thing wasn't working out, I decided to see if I could get my buggy's electrics into some sort of shape. That was a bad idea (check here for why). So, I end up being just plain pissed off and having accomplished nothing at all for the day. I hate summer.

Four days left until I'm back at school. The problem with that is that I have to get like a 3.5 for the year to pull my GPA up so I can stay in school with a scholarship. I'm also taking 5 classes this semseter. I'm going to be chained to a fucking desk the whole time. This is making me kind of dread going back to school. However, I'm really looking forward to seeing all my friends there again!

So that's the semi-rant for today.


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*instert good title here*

So it's been a little while since I posted, and I realized something interesting - I miss posting here. I mean it's only been like three days, but I miss posting. That really threw me when I realized that.

The other day, my sister said that I should get one of my ears pierced. That was kind of random and out of the blue. She said that two piercings in the middle of my ear would look good. I'm not sure how I would feel about that. It would certainly add to the pirate look :)

I've been getting stuff for my bed at school, and I'm super excited about it now. Last year, I only had the school mattress, and a bedset (sheets and comforters, along with a few pillows). This year, I convinced my mom that I needed something better and thus got two foam pads (one of which is memory foam), as well as a feather bed. I then got some sheets made from Pure Beech, which are super soft, as well as this nice fuzzy comforter. My bed is going to be awesome. Hopefully, I won't be sleeping in it alone the entire semester ;)

Speaking of hooking up, I've been talking to one of my female friends from school. Now this girl told me that if we ever have sex, that she's having my babies. However, she's fairly attractive, and seems to be at least somewhat interested in me. The thing is, I really don't want a relationship now, and I truly don't want any little Wookies running around. The problem however, is that whenever I see her, I think to myself "Wouldn't it be fun to hook up with her?" and whenever I think about that out of her presence, I think "Wouldn't that be such a bad idea?" Why does sex have to have so much social and emotional impact? I mean, I don't think I'm super effected by that, but some others (especially women) seem to be. I don't want to get embroiled in that. Thus, I will likely endup having a significant lack of sex throughout my college career. I don't want that either. Shit. I lose either way. As an interesting aside - I told this girl about the idea of me whoring myself out, and she was like "Go for it!!"

That's about it for now - my eyes are closing as I try to write this.


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Why?

I keep looking at the classified adds on Volkswagen/Porsche forums, the Volvo forum I'm on, and I chronically browse eBay. Why do I do this? I have a project on tha garage! I have a Volvo that is all but mine! Why do I consistently want something better than I already have? It depresses me that I'm never satisfied with what I've got.

The other day, I had an interesting conversation with my mom about changing one's perspective on a subject. I told her about an article I read about where a company took the new Honda Fit (a super tiny subcompact car) and raced it. What they did was just strip it down and modify the suspension. No major bolt on power components. It had 97hp. The article said it was one of the most pure racing cars they (the editors) had ever driven. Due to its lack of power, one had to keep the momentum up and truly think about how to pass someone (and that was usually done by out braking them as opposed to flying past them on a straightaway). That made me think a lot. Of course, I went to Honda's website and built up a Fit (boh sport and standard model) and for $20k (sport) or $15k (standard) I could have a rather interesting car. However, there are a few problems - 1) it's a Honda - the whole image associated with that. 2) I have absolutely no money. 3) I already have a project that will take up any money that I get. 4) I really don't need a new car. This whole thing goes back to me never being satisfied with what I have. I hate it.

A while ago I realzed something - I have ambition, but absolutely no follow through. I have wonderful ideas, but I can never seem to go anywhere with them. It sucks. Big time. I wish I had the ability to follow through on things. I wish I had money to truly allow me to follow through with some of my cool ideas. I wish I was better at life.


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I love this!

I found this and just had to post it, even though it isn't anywhere near Christmas :)

Enjoy!

An Aeronautical Engineer’s Take on Santa Claus (1998)

There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world. However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million children (according to the population reference bureau). At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming there is at least one good child in each.

Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones, and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second. That is to say, for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has about 1/1000 of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh, and get onto the next house.

Assuming that each one of the 108 million homes is evenly distributed around the earth (which of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. This means that Santa’s sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second – 3,000 times the speed of sound. For comparison, the fastest man made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a porky 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer runs at about 15 miles per hour.

The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousand tons, not counting Santa himself. On land, a conventional reindeer can pull about 300 pounds. Even granting that the “flying” reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job can’t be done with eight or even nine of them – Santa would need 360,000 of them. This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

600,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance – this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft reentering the earth’s atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer would absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each.

In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip. Not that it matters however, since Santa as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 miles per second in .001 seconds would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 g’s. A 250lb Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs, and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo.

Therefore, if Santa did ever exist, he’s dead now. Merry Christmas.

I find this truly funny, and apologize if anyone is offended by it.


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I wish I were a Viking . . .

. . . that way when I killed someone with an axe, it wouldn't be questioned.

My weekend sucked. It was raining the entire time, I had to work for most of it, and worst of all, I expected it to be fun. The major thing was that this was my last reenacting event of the year, and I didn't see a bunch of people that I wanted to. That really sucked. Instead, I was put to work moving cannons, rowing boats, and bailing said boats. That sucked. The whole weekend I was the one who was called if there was heavy lifting. That sucked. I mean, yes, I was one of the bigger, stronger, younger guys there (19, 6'2", 225, and I work out some), but still. It seemed like everytime someone needed anything remotely heavy carried or moved, they called me. That got old real fast. The fact that the entire weekend was a semi thunderstorm didn't help any either. I ended up "sleeping" on the floor of the boatshop, which was dry, but concrete. I was also near the easiest to access bathroom. That meant that everytime someone went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I was sleeping lightly enough, due to the discomfort of sleeping on concrete, that I halfway woke up. Thus, I didn't get much sleep the entire weekend. Then when I come home, my mom immediately has me help her move a cabinet. I mean, I come through the door, set my stuff down, and she asks for my help. At this point I was running on fumes, as they say, but I helped her, and then drove to get pizza for dinner. When I finally got to bed (electing to take a shower in the morning), my sister wakes me up as soon as I fall asleep, and harrasses me until I yell at her to get out of my room and let me go to bed. She then calls me mean, and leaves. This makes me feel unreasonablely bad - she was the one who woke me up after I said I was too tired to do anything else, and then did her best to literally drag me out of bed. Whatever.

This morning I wake up, and my mom enlists my help again in moving heavy things. We move a cabinet from the basement up to the upstairs for my sister, and then a desk from downstairs to upstairs for me. By the end of this, I'm totally sweaty, still pissed off, my room is trashed (we had to totally rearrange it so the desk would fit), and I haven't had a shower in 3 days. Now I have to go work out, finish cleaning my room, and drop my car off at the mechanic's.

I can't wait 'till school starts and I can see my friends again.


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Sigh

Crappy weekend. Totally exhausted. More to come tomorrow.

Random musings

I really need to think up better titles. Maybe good quotes from movies? I dunno.

Anyways. I was thinking about my earlier posts, and the whoring myself out part. I don't think it would be that bad, if I could take it seriously enough to do it (and somehow convince my mom that is was a legitimate job). It also has the potential for ludicrous amounts of money if it takes off. However, I don't think I can bring myself to do it. One thing it got me thinking about (other than lots of sex), was the whole stereotypical relationship thing (boyfriend/girlfriend, marriage, commitment, whatever). Now, I am by no means an expert at this (I've only had one girlfriend), but I truly don't think that having a relationship with someone means that they love each other exclusively and shouldn't make eyes at anyone else. Maybe this works for them for a while, but I think in the long run, the commitment should be to each other as friends, not as lovers. That will make a healthier relationship (in my mind). Let each other find satisfaction where needed, and take joy in the other person's hapiness. Being friends means that there won't be the "You aren't seeing to my needs!" argument, and that the whole relationship is more relaxed. Maybe I'm wierd, but that was just a thought that struck me. Often when I think about getting laid, I think about where it could go, and I realize I don't want to spend the rest of my life with a supermodel type. They often have no personality, odd interests (fashion doesn't quite do it for me), and are way to stressed as a general thing. I would much rather settle down with someone who I can have an actual conversation with, go out in a boat with, drive across the country and not go crazy because of them. That said, I'm not planning on getting into a major relationship in college. So, let the supermodels come, and I will welcome them with open arms! Hahaha!

There will probably be more later, but I ran out of ideas for now.


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Had some more thoughts

I talked to my roommate this evening about the buggy project (here), and bemoaned the fact that I had no money, and that I was considering whoring myself out. His response to that was "You should! Male escorts are in high demand!" That made me laugh, but also made me ponder. How would one advertise sexual services without being caught? Would you advertise as a date? How does that work? What would you charge? What are the logistics of that? How do you prevent yourself from getting STD's if you do in fact manage to find work? I wonder how I would advertise myself. Where would I advertise? The 'Net? The local paper? The looking for work section? This whole thing really made me think. I almost want to put an add out there and just see what happens.

This coming weekend is a major decision for me. My roommate is throwing a party at his house, and everyone that is going really wants me to come as well. Unfortuneately, that weekend is also a reenactment at the museum that I work at (on and off), and I'm supposed to work then as well. This translates into about $125 for the weekend. Also, Saturday night, the mechanic who works on all of the family's cars is having a retirement party at the local fairgrounds. Additionally, Wed, Thurs, and Fri all have concerts in the evening. If I go to the party, I will see a bunch of my friends from school and have a blast. However, school will start two weeks after that, and I'll see them then anyways. Also, I want to see all the reenactors at the event, and of course make some money. I told one of the guys at the museum about my dilema, and he said it really depended on which drunks I wanted to hang out with - the drunk reenactors, or the drunk college girls (and guys, but mostly the girls ;). I said there was slightly more to it than that, but only a little. As of now, I think I'm going to stay here and work. However, I feel kind of bad about missing the party.

Well those were my thoughts. And now, I'm going to bed.


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PS - I changed my signature name. Not sure why, just felt the need too :)

Living up to the title

Or at least the rambling part of it - I'm not very enraged right now. I was talking to my mom the other night and the conversation switched around to how I don't feel that I every get truly good at something. I rise very quickly to the level of mediocricy and then progress at a glacial pace (if at all) from there. This causes me to drop lots of things after a bit of sampling that glacial thing. My mom has the same problem, and apparently it has plagued her through her whole life. She didn't have any helpful advice.

I was talking to a guy at work today about the stuff he did as a tech inspector for the SCCA. For those who want to know what that means - he looked over racecars to make sure that they weren't breaking any rules or violating any safety regulations. SCCA stands for the Sports Car Club of America. So this guy ended up getting certified for F1, Can-Am, IMSA, everything. He got to talk to some of the super famous drivers, and got to see everything firsthand. I can only dream about what that must have been like.

On the drive home from work, I take this road that makes me think of the WRC (World Rally Championship) everytime I drive it. Today I was reminded of an article I read that highlighted the co-drivers of these cars. The pilots get all the fame for their driving skill, while the codrivers, who have nerves of steel to call out the directions that make the drivers be able to use their skills while the car is screaming down a backroad, get almost no credit.

That's all for now. 'Night!


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Ho hum

So once again, I am on a lunch break at the museum, and have nothing to do. I've read the two magazines I bought to keep me entertained (HCi and Sport Rider, one a car mag, the other a bike mag), and am saving the book for when I'm back waiting around for visitors to show up. However, I really don't have much to write.

The other day at the fair, I had a rather intruiging thought. What would it be like to get paid for blogging? I don't think that I could do it. Someone comes along and says, "Post every other day at least, and you get X dollars." That thought just doesn't work. It takes some of the spirit of blogging away for me. Maybe I'm just strange, but part of how I blog is when I have a thought that strikes me, that I remember, that seems like other people might want to hear, or that I just need to express. I don't get those thoughts on demand. That's like saying to a painter, "Paint a masterpiece every month." It just doesn't work like that! I might be a little arrogant in comparing my thoughts to masterpiece paintings, but still. You get the idea.

So I'm going back to school somewhere around Spetember 3. I'm not sure if I talked about the fact that the track program theoretically got cut. However, we still apparently have funding. So, I was on the cross country roster from the end of last season so that I could practice with the team throughout the entire year. I talked to my coach about coming in for XC preseason and her take was that if I was working out at home and running that I should prolly just stay home. I, of course, assured her that I was doing said workouts, and she said that I could come when school started. I'm going to die when I get there. I haven't been running at all (minus the soccer games at the end of summer track), and the workouts that I've been doing haven't been that strenuous (I'm not super stiff the next day). I think that I'm going to start the season off right by presenting my coach with a whip.

Well, that's about all that I've thought of. Back to work (or something like it).


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Fun at the fair

Well, it was only kind of fun. I have done years of service at the county fair, but over the past few years, I managed to extricate myself. Last year, I didn't even go once. So this year, I stopped by, and said hi to all of the people there. It was such a mind trip. I hadn't seen a few of them in years. Apparently I'm missed there. That was nice to find out. I'd forgotten so much about the fair - the smells, the noises, the crowds, the morons, the rednecks, all the fair culture. It was cool to visit and not have to worry about animals that I was taking care of, displays I was supposed to be manning, or anything like that. I also got to see the Superstock 4x4 pulls (a subclass tractor pull event), which I had never seen before. That was impressive. The engines in those trucks are massive - 500 ci was average! What a noise. So cool.

The fair also made me feel like a dirty person. Whenever I walk through crowds, I look at people. Mostly women who catch my eye, which is where me being a dirty person comes in. There were so many girls who caught my attention who couldn't have been more than 13. They were barely dressed, which of course caught my attention, and had what looked like nice bodies, until they either turned around (and I saw that the boobs were lacking), or they did something, and it was obvious that they had no clue how life worked. However, the fact that I was consistantly eyeing them made me feel horrible about me as a person. It also highlighted the fact that I still have not gotten laid, and am not likely too until school starts. Actually, probably later. My roommate recommended sleeping with impressionable freshman. Unfortunately, I have morales (I think), and thus am going to try to not sleep with any drunk freshman girls. That's something that I don't want to deal with. I've done my best too stay out of drunken hookups, and succeded so far. However, a few times I was sorely tempted. My reasoning behind this philosophy is two-fold. One - I was pretty much ridiculed in high school by girls, and was a virgin until college. As much as I would like to have sex, I don't want to wake up, have the girl scream, and then be handed a paper bag. Two - I don't want to get into any wierd social fuck ups, either with said drunk girl, or with her significant other when they find out. Both parties being sober can cut down on these occurances drastically. However, this also means that I have to find a girl who is either looking for a quick screw and just wants to get off, or someone who is actually into me, which takes effort. I've already written entries on my work ethic (ie about not having one). I'm just SOL. Shit.


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GRRRR!

I'd like to ask whoever is leaving the Anonymous comments about links to PLEASE STOP! Those annoy me. Lots. I get all excited about a comment, and then it's some crappy link. It would be one thing if the links were to something relevant or funny. However, they are links to some advertising blog. THAT PISSES ME OFF!! So. To reiterate - PLEASE STOP! Anyone with a real comment, about my blog or something related, please. I am looking forward to hearing from you. Anything else, don't even bother.

Check this out

If any of the minute number of people who actually read my blog were wondering about my buggy at all, today I created a blog that will hopefully be detailing what I do on it. Check it out at here :)

I was looking over my past entries and realized I haven't written anything substantial in a while. So here's a little something for those who wish it :)

I got a wonderful racing game a few days ago. It is called Grand Prix Legends and it was released in the late '90s. At that time, there wasn't a computer around that could run it at full potential. It uses the 1967 Formula 1 season and is as close to driving one of those that you can get without actually doing it. It is amazing. I'm addicted. I want to buy a racing wheel and pedal set for my computer, just so I can drive better in the game. Sad, I know.

I got paid for my work at the museum the other day. It was a surprisingly large chunk of money for the 6 days that I worked. I was very happy. Unfortuneately, about half of it is spoken for in owing people money. That makes me sad.

On Thursday, my sister wants me to help her drive down a state and meet some random guy that she met on the Internet. I'm going to definitely go with her, but I'm a little baffled by the whole thing. Apparently this guy has slept with every girl he has met (which sounds like a major lie, or he's a walking selection of STD's), and he's 16. He doesn't have his license, is "funny", and will likely be drunk when we meet him (according to my sister). We don't know where he's going to meet us, he's at a friend's house in the first place, and the whole thing is a little fishy. If I had a concealed carry permit, and a handgun, I would totally bring it. We'll see how it ends up going.

Speaking of guns, that's someting that I've wanted to do for a long time. I have only shot a reproduction musket as far as weapons go. However, lots of people have invited me to go shooting with them. I really want to try it! The thing is, I'm a little nervous just asking someone about it, and kind of nervous about the whole thing in general.

I was talking to my mom today about me liking ideas better than the reality of ideas. Take for example, my buggy. I love thinking about it! I daydream about it. However, when I have free time to work on it, I don't go out to the garage. I sit on my ass. My mom said this was probably because I had a clear idea of how things should go, and they rarely went that way.

Well that's about it. Hopefully I'll have something semi inspired to write about sometime soon,



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Hmm

I've discovered that every time I want to write something here, I'm either too busy, or don't remember what I was going to write by the time I get to the computer. That annoys me. Just thought I'd pass that on, before I go to bed.


'Night.

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