1st Law of MFE

Yesterday, I wrote my final lab report for this class. The lab dealt with the formulation and analysis of several nickel complexes. Truthfully, it covered topics that we're not covering in class and that I probably won't commit to memory. Nonetheless, I had to write a stinking lab report about it. It took forever. Hours that I could've used to study for this week's test. No problem; it's awesome to spend your time working on just plain busy work, you know? Who doesn't have the extra time?

I think I'll definitely get a perfect score on the report based on the my final calculations:

For maximum credit, always cite the 1st Law of Middle Finger Extension.

Survivor's Guilt

Perhaps my surprise at doing well on the test manifested itself in last night's dream:

I'm at a restaurant for breakfast with people from class. Everyone is sitting around and chatting, the usual post-meal banter. I excuse myself to the restroom. When I return, my exam is on the table and everyone has been looking through it. One woman says, "I'm not sure how you got a 97 with all those deductions that she marked on your paper." I take a look and see a plethora of deductions: -16 points here, -10 points there, -20 points in another place. I explained, "She graded my more leniently."

Luckily at the next table, a group of rough looking people had just finished their English breakfast and start drinking tequila shots. This captured everyone's attention and took the heat off of me because it was only 9:00 in the morning. I carefully grabbed my test from the table and pocketed it without being noticed.

English Breakfast and Tequila: A Suitable Distraction

I need to send my deep subconscious some flowers for getting me out of that one.

97 Out of 97

Seems like I did a little better than I expected on the test. I'm sort of expecting that she really meant to give me a score of "07" but hit the wrong key. I'll take it.

I've Got the Touch

I've got the power! When all hell's breaking loose, I'll be right in the eye of the storm. This is, quite possibly, my very favorite Stan Bush song.

I already feel better. I should really listen to this every morning. Now, I just need to find my old Transformers at my folks' house and I'll be set. I miss you, Optimus Prime.

Bring On Tuesday...

...because this Monday has really sucked.

It started this morning when I got up. As usual, I'm pretty hopeful and optimistic. I'd worked a crapload on the test this weekend. With exception of one problem, I finished the test in about 2 or so hours. The one problem had me rapt for about 7 hours. I kept working it and reworking it and reworking it to no avail. The numbers just wouldn't work. Finally, late Saturday, I had an epiphany and thought that I had it figured out reasonably well. Anywho, I transcribed my answers on Sunday and spent the rest of the day relaxing.

This morning I get up and am preparing to go to campus. I log on and check my email and see a message from the prof. She gives some big clue about how we're supposed to approach the problem. This wasn't, by the way, the method that I used. My heart sank a little and I went to campus.

I dropped in to talk with her about it about an hour before class. She put me on this path for solving it that was totally bogus. She suggested to everyone a method for solving this damned thing that she flat out told us in class should never be used for the conditions presented in the problem. The numbers just wouldn't fit. Anywho, I spent an hour trying to make it work and finally just scrawled some shit onto the page and ran to class and handed in the exam just before the deadline.

Brutal. Just brutal. She donkey punched me right in the ass. Oh, I also dropped my yogurt in the hallway at school and it broke open and spilled all over the place. And our softball team got killed. (I didn't lose any of my newly formed scar tissue or do any further damage to my assberry. James Three Thousand didn't fare so well, though.)

Two more stinking weeks of this Chem 102 crap and then it's on to ... several more years of this junk. Good God, what am I doing? Seriously, I've suddenly become one of those neurotic pre-medical students who obsess over every single stinking grade and how it will positively or negatively affect my final grade and my future. Holy crap, I need a break already.

The Good News
Last Thursday evening, I think that Rob, Jim and I formed a band: Tainted Hummus. We're trying to get it together. Unfortunately, I'm not sure that we'll be ready by our promised 04 OCT 2006 opening date but it shouldn't be to long before we're ready to rock. Simple set up: snare drum, keytar, harmonica, cowbell, and vocals. Seriously, our first single "Unicorn Dreams" will knock you on your can.

Make Mine a Strawberry...

After many years of playing softball in this body of mine, you'd think I'd get it that sliding is a bad idea. Nope. Never ever learn. Never ever will.

Last night we played (and lost to) the number one team in the league. I was trying to leg out a double. The throw was coming in and I slid to avoid the tag. I decided to slide. Keep in mind that this wasn't one of those recreational league slides but an honest to goodness MLB style slide. I got to the bag and popped up. The 2nd baseman booted the throw and I took off for 3rd base and made it safely.

When I finally caught my breath in the sweltering 90+ degree Georgia heat, I noticed that my ass really, really hurt. Turns out, I'd earned the largest and, not coincidentally, the most painful strawberry of my career.

One of these will probably leave a mark.

This one's probably going to leave a mark. Maybe I should invest in some sliding pants or something. Better yet, I should just give up sliding.

I love the Sleestaks.

Your Assignment

Earlier this week, I found out that my buddy Mike's grandmother had passed away. His relationship with his Meemaw reminded me very much of mine with my Bamba. I called to offer my condolences and to catch up with him.

Mike and I have known each other since 1991 when I started UGA. For a couple of years, we lived on the same hall in the same dorm. Later, we traveled around together: an RV trip to Kentucky and Graceland on one spring break, a trip to my grandparents' beach house on another. Just prior to graduation, we were roommates for about 9 months in an abysmal little ghetto place in Athens. (BTW, I consider "ghetto" the inability to have a pizza delivered after dark.) After graduation, we ended up working at the same software company. Twice.

In the last several years, as we've settled into adulthood (not that I feel settled or particularly adult), we've been following the paths of our own lives. Career. Marriage. Hairline recession. Waistline expansion. Aches. Pains. The realization that we're not 22 any longer.

Occasionally, we'll actually pick up the phone and call or, if we're lucky, we'll get to see each other for bit. Wednesday of this week, we had a long phone conversation. The death of his grandmother made us touch base. On the phone, the time between conversations and the distance separating us seemed to fall away. No problem, we just picked up where we left off, you know.

It makes me think of what a college girlfriend told me as I was leaving for a study abroad program in Mexico. She said, "Absence doesn't heart grown fonder; it makes the heart forget." Consequently, mine grew fonder; hers forgot (very, very quickly). In a way, though, I suppose it's a true statement. Life gets in the way. Our attention is paid to the most immediate things surrounding us on a daily basis. When we finally look up, time has passed and we've forgotten what certain people and things mean to us.

Here's my point: Go pick up the phone and ring that person that you've been "meaning to call." It just might make both of your days.

Another Week ...

This Chem 102 business is tough. This week, I had my ass handed to me daily. Lab stinks. Class stinks. The whole rotten thing stinks. Our new pup is really cutting into my ability to study at home. So, I'm looking for a new study sanctuary so that I can actually get some work done. It's no fun being behind in class. During one lecture, I might as well have been listening to Charlie Brown's teacher for two hours. "Wahh waa, waa whaaa wah wah whaaaaa." No friggin' clue what she was talking about. It's gonna take an entire skyscraper of puppies to get me out of this one.

9 Solutions Puzzle!
So, our final lab this week was to solve for 9 unknown substances. We get to lab and are presented with 9 test tubes, each with a small sample of an unknown solution. Prior to arriving, however, we were told what the nine solutions would be and had to devise a plan to determine what each one was in lab. So, we created a flowchart to determine how to test and identify them one by one. For example, the one with a stongly basic pH could only be a certain substance. We knew, then, that it would react in a specific way with only one or two other substances and so on and so forth. The goal, according to the lab instructors, was to be in and out of there in about 20 minutes. It's why we did all of the stinking pre-work before showing up.

So, we get there and start running our tests. We got about 1/4 of the way into it and our results were showing an impossibility. We kept testing and testing (as did everyone in the room) with no success. I told my team that the lab assistant either screwed up the solutions that she gave us or made some other mistake. An hour and a half later, it came to light that the lab assistant had, in fact, screwed up the solutions and made some other mistakes.

She actually said, "It's like this every year." What the hell does that mean? Obviously, she has never held a real job. I would've gotten canned in a minute if I tried to rationalize tremendous failure with some crap-tastic quote like that one. Then, she actually left early. Outstanding.

Wear Cotton

Yep, it's been a while since my last post. Semester break, 4th of July, new puppy, start of classes and such = I've been busy and will be for the foreseeable future (7 years according to the Peej). In a little less than a month, I'll be done with this semester of Chemistry and prepped for the hellish fall schedule that I've submitted.

The new semester is pretty interesting but a little more hardcore. Can't really explain to you exactly how uninterested I am in hybridized electron orbitals but it's my life at the moment. In lab, I'm doing some cool stuff. Last week, we coated a penny in brass. (Look for it on eBay, I need to make some cash.) Also, we synthesized some polymers in a lab. We ended up making nylon. Probably one of the freakiest things I've ever seen. Mix two chemicals together and this shit just starts growing. I'm grabbing it with tweezers, wrapping it around a test tube and just rolling and rolling it up out of this tiny, tiny beaker. Seriously, it was about a yard of dead hobo skin that I pulled out of it. It was a like an outtake from "Silence of the Lambs." Looked awful, smelled awful, made me feel awful. I think I'm about to start wearing nothing but hemp or cotton clothing after that one. Can't be good for us. Oh yeah, we also made "slime." It was like the ectoplasm from Ghostbusters. Odd, odd stuff. Anywho, that was what I did last week.

Open Your Heart to the Puppy
Here's our new pup, Dylan, the cutest puppy ever. He's a German Wire-Haired Pointer with lots of energy and a love of chewing. He's so damned cute. He's doing a fine job training my wife and I to never sleep and constantly wipe up his urine.

Dylan, the Destroyer

The results are in...

I earned an "A" in the class.

I feel a little like Andy Dufresne scrawling that first mark on the prison wall to mark the passing of a year. How many were on the wall before he got out? Tons, right?

Same thing here. One down. Infinity to go. Looking forward to the sewer crawl, though.

I Am Nuts

I turned in my final yesterday. Now, I just wait a few days to learn the grade and confirm that I kept my A. Hopefully, I didn't screw it up. I don't think that I did but it's always a possibility.

Last night, I had a terrible bout of insomnia. I woke at 2 a.m. and just lay there in bed for two hours. At 4 a.m., I got up, came into the office, sent a few emails, and just surfed the net for a while. When I finally went to sleep at 6:30 a.m., I had the pleasure of dreaming the following:

I'm in the middle of some sort of competition being held on Peachtree Street in downtown Atlanta. Honestly, I'm not sure what the contest was about but I know that my two teammates and I had to get stuff out of the back of a pickup truck. I should probably mention that my two teammates were supermodels. Anyway, me and one teammate were standing outside the truck while the other would wrestle with the opposing team for items in the bed of the truck. When the first teammate got an item, she would hand it to teammate who would run it to a checkpoint about 50 yards away and then come back to the truck for the next item. My job: spray them down with a water hose!!! (Seriously, it was a beer commercial without any beer in it.)

Thing were going well, if a bit odd, until Star Frickin' Jones shows up. Like she apparently is in reality, she was a real queen bitch in my dream. She kept complaining about not having a job, bad-mouthing Baba Wawa, and talking up these other projects she had in the works. She was terribly annoying.

Any version of Star Jones is a bad one.

When the competition ended, I was returning home to my in-laws' mountain house. I walked into the newly renovated kitchen complete with built-in handwashing stations. Not just sinks, mind you, but special areas only for washing your hands. I was happy to be home and was looking forward to doing some studying. I went to take a nap because, evidently, hosing down supermodels is tough work. Unfortunately, I couldn't sleep because someone was playing some new age music really loudly. I get off of the sofa and go to investigate. Imagine my surprise when it was none other than the new live-in house guest, Star Jones! I was floored. She was terribly inconsiderate and unapologetic, a pure diva. At that point, I notice that her things, including her new project, were spread all over the house.

Upon investigating, I learn that her new project was a Star Jones board game loosely modeled after Harry Potter. The playing board was purple and featured cartoonish caricatures of her, Brooke Shields, and Tom Selleck. I thought it was pretty dumb concept for a game. It seemed about as overly complicated as the E.T. game I had as a kid. Even so, it looked like the worst game ever. I left Star Jones and her board game project to go make a salad and take a nap.

A much better board game than Star's.
(Even without Shields and Selleck.)

I am nuts.

Like a Glove

Mr. Morrison, this is Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Mr. Morrison.

Swap the suit for an old, faded No Fear muscle shirt, give him a proper mesh-backed hat, and it's like he's always been there.

I pray that he looks like this forever. It makes me feel a little better about my high school days.

FYI, in the follow-up photo, he was sobbing like a baby.

Fans

People react strangely in the face of celebrity, don't they? Whether you're an international film star or in a crappy band that plays a monthly gig at the local bar, you're bound to have fans who think you're the bee's knees, the cat's pajamas.

At last night's Braves/Yankees game, an apparently attractive young woman ran onto the field to "touch" Derek Jeter. Of course, she was promptly arrested and led away. (She might've been a little more successful if she wasn't actually wearing a Giambi jersey. I think that's in Chapter 1 of the Basic Stalker Field Guide.)

One of Derek Jeter's crazy fans.

I really know how Derek feels. If I had a dime for each time an overly anxious fan ran up to me to "touch" me, I'd have a few dimes, I assure you. It's a tough life. Here's twenty cents worth:

The Scholar's Fans: Wearing jacket that said "The Rogue" instead of "The Scholar" was his mistake.

The Scholar's Fans: Good effort with the hair but where's the skirt?

What can I say? Fame has is drawbacks.

Final Exams

Four short weeks and I'm taking final exams for Chem 1. I've been really under the gun this week. I've felt a little behind but I'm trying to make up lost ground this morning before picking up the final exam. Yesterday, we were talking about atomic shapes being influenced by polarity and such but the only thing I could see when looking at the diagrams were diabolic snowmen. Frosty gone bad.
I was sitting there looking at this stuff, hearing the professor's voice fade into the background, daydreaming about evil snowmen fighting one another.

I need a break.

Is This Really Necessary?

Tough week at the office, this week. I've been getting up early, making the commute before traffic gets terrible, and really getting some good work done. Something's afoot there; I can feel it. First, security was really difficult about letting me back into the parking deck and into the building on Monday. Then, I get to my desk and it's filled with someone else's stuff. I wrote it off as some sort of practical joke and just kept on working.

At about 3pm today, it hit me: I don't work there anymore!

I quit back in May! What the hell was I doing? Why am I still getting checks? How could I be so confused?

Then, I looked a little more closely at my last two checks and shared a hearty laugh with the security team who were walking me to my car. (Seriously, really nice people who insisted on seeing that I made it safely to my car and started on my way back home.)

No wonder I was confused!!! Here's my check from a couple of weeks ago:

Today's check:


I get it, they're trying to remind me that I don't work there.

"Don't come to work here; you don't have a job" is what they're really telling me.

Honestly, I have a hell of a time keeping it straight. Glad they're looking out for me. Now, if I could just find some way of remembering that I'm living on student loans and my wife's salary, I'd be set. Come to think of it, these things fit the bill for that one too!

Grab Bag...

So far, it's been a tough week. I did, however, earn a 99 on my last test. Things are going well if not easily. I'm scared to think how many minutes of my day are going into each point I've earned in this class. It's insane.

The Answer for Everything
So I'm talking to the gang the other morning just before we submitted our exams. Everyone was pretty spent after stressing over it all damned weekend. Naturally, we started discussing our strategies for getting through the difficult problems and what we put down for your answers.

Know how I got a 99? Below is a sample three part question from the exam and my answer to each part.

1. The elements in the periodic table are arranged according to similar outer-shell electron configurations. These electron configurations are the basis of the periodic or cyclic patterns in certain physical properties of atoms.
   A) Rank these elements in order of the increasing second ionization energy (IE2). Explain your reasoning. (6 points)
   B) In the p-block elements, does the n value or the Z-eff appear to have greater effect on the atomic radius as you move diagonally from one element to the element one row down and one column to the right? Explain your reasoning. (6 points)
   C) If you obtained the photoelectron spectra of the main-group elements in the second and third periods of the periodic table, what trends would you observe (if any) in (1) number of peaks; (2) position of the peak farthest to the right in each spectrum; and (3) height of peaks? Consider the trends moving down a group and across a row. (6 points)

Answer, part A:
Answer, part B:
Answer, part C:

I think this strategy just might get me through Organic Chemistry in the fall. Hell, it might even make medical school interviews go more smoothly:

"Can you describe your thoughts on the legislation prohibiting partial birth abortion and its overall impact on women's health?"
"Certainly. Might I ask how many puppies are involved?," I'd retort.
"Ummm, well... You see, it's not exactly... I'm not sure how pupp--"
"-- Because if there is one thing that I love, it is a cute, adorable puppy. Let me show you this picture of Mr. Bojangles, my pup," I'd add while unfolding a picture of a puppy.
"Say, that's one cute puppy."

Anyway, it's just a thought.

Don't Sprinkle When You Tinkle
Go ahead and file this under TMI (Too Much Information) about me.

Today, five minutes before lab. I ran to the restroom because I was about to burst. I'm standing at the urinal after a long relieving "evacuation." I button up and go to wash my hands. In the mirror, to my extreme horror, I notice a clearly visible drip.

My mind was racing. What the hell was I going to do? No way in hell I could go back into the classroom. I'm standing alone in the bathroom, having an audible conversation with myself in the mirror. "I'm wearing quick-dry shorts but they won't dry that quick," I yell at myself. I try a paper towel which only spreads it around and makes it even more noticeable. I even bend over and am blowing on my crotch to dry it a little faster. Nothing is working. I'm out of time because class is starting so I resort to the old standby. I turn the water on as high as it'll go, then just put my hands under the faucet and pretend to wash my hands. Instead of using a towel to dry, I immediately shake all the water off ensuring that it goes all over the front of my pants and shirt. Then, I dry my hands and walk back to the class prepared to give the "Looks like there isn't enough money at this damned place to have a pressure control valve on the sink in the men's room. Look at me, I'm soaked!" speech.

Midway to the classroom, however, I just decided to be done with it and take off my pants.

Problem solved.

Godfather III
Today, I get home and sit down for a 15 minute TV break. I flip on the telly and surf past AMC. "Godfather III" is showing. Normally, I'd keep on rolling past that one. Today, though, I stopped to watch what are probably my favorite five minutes of the film. Know which five? The part where Mary Corleone (Sophia Coppola) gets whacked. I didn't even have to waste two and a half hours watching her brutish dialogue delivery or limited acting range while praying she'd just get killed already. Just flipped by it and, BANG! BANG!, her character dies. Awesome. Man, I'm still pissed at her for acting in that one. It could've been a great, or at least really good, film. I'm thrilled that she's taken up writing and directing and left acting to those with some on-screen charisma.

Hooga Chakka

After an amazing weekend at Fenway South, formerly known as Turner Field, I awoke to the harsh world of introductory chemistry. Man, I feel so dumb on Mondays. By Thursday, though, I usually feel smarter. (Typically, this occurs after a beer or two.)

To top it off, the Sleestaks earned their first defeat of the softball season last night. I was pitching instead of playing shortstop. The other team, every damned one of them, seemed to be a seasoned placement hitter. Ripped us apart. It was bad.

What cheers me up when I'm feeling so low? A little something I like to call Hasselhoff.

Takes me back to 2002 when this was brand new. Ahh, Mr. David Hasselhoff, you warm me. You make me feel human, again. I am a knight. A rider. A bay watcher. (Or an Inuit snowboarder. Or a safari guide.)

Hooga Chakka, indeed.

Pitchfork has a compilation of "100 Awesome Music Videos" here. Don't be disappointed when you don't see something with such a stunning array of special effects, as Hasselhoff's "Hooked On a Feeling."

Heaven

Heaven is watching your favorite team at the ballpark on a perfect Friday evening.

Jamaican Me Crazy!

Awesome lunch at the Resta, our name for the Negril Caribbean Restaurant in downtown Atlanta.

Here's a recap:

12:17 pm: Arrive with Dan, Kim, Nancy.

12:20 pm: Enter restaurant, see Joe and the surprise guest, Jason.

12:23 pm: Place order with waitress. Mostly patties, rice and peas, yellow rice and black beans, broccoli, carrots, and an order of wings and fries. Order jerk or oxtail gravy on rice/beans. Waitress says that "she'll see what she can do" clearly setting low expectations. This is akin to asking for ketchup for your fries and being rebuffed. Waitress takes 5 minutes to review order just so "they don't mess it up in the kitchen." Have sensation that it's being messed up far earlier than the kitchen.

12:29 pm: Patties arrive on a single large platter that is tossed into the middle of the table. Tiny saucers are distributed, frisbee style, to everyone. Waitress confirms missing items. Forgets to include jerk gravy. Remind waitress to remember it.

12:45 pm: Wings, broccoli and carrots arrive. No sign of fries, rice/peas or black beans/yellow rice. Politely remind waitress of required jerk gravy. Agree with Joe's observation that cutting up his patties in anticipation of rice and peas is probably a critical strategic error.

12:55 pm: Inquire again about rice/peas, black beans/yellow rice, and jerk gravy. Waitress mentions how busy she is, assures that she'll bring it right out, and casually, slowly walks away. Say goodbye to Nancy and Jason who must return to work.

12:58 pm: Say goodbye to Kim and Dan who must return to work.

1:05 pm: Stare at patties. Caress them gently with fork. Imagine how first bite will taste.

1:10 pm: Walk to counter, try unsuccessfully to make eye contact with waitress. Shake head in disgust. Walk back to table. Hold patties to nose, breathe their delicious aroma. Hold them to my cheek, feel their fading warmth. Pet them.

1:15 pm: Return to counter. Make eye contact. Ask for black beans/yellow rice. Waitress starts to hand me fries. Alert her that the customer who ordered fries left 10 minutes earlier. Receive plate of beans and rice, freshly made in 5 seconds while I watched. Ask for jerk gravy. Receive assurance that it'll be right out.

1:20 pm: Discuss with Joe the unlikelihood that we would ever receive gravy. Watch Joe take his bowl of rice and peas to counter. Ask him to bring some extra. Wink at patties. Tell patties a joke. Share uncomfortable laughter with patties.

1:22 pm: Watch Joe return with no extra jerk gravy.

1:23 pm: Walk to counter with plate of beans and rice. Demand jerk gravy. Witness jerk gravy being put on beans and rice. Note that elapsed time of application is 2 seconds.

1:24 pm: Waitress arrives at table with another plate of beans and rice with jerk gravy. Notify her that person who ordered them had been long gone. Tell her to take them back because no one is there to eat them. Waitress does not remove beans and rice, instead, begins bussing the table as we're begin eating.

1:29 pm: Finish patties and beans and rice with jerk gravy.

1:35 pm: Postulate that our waitress will not be bringing our check.

1:36 pm: Walk to counter. In response to our presence, waitress tells us to "chill out" as she walks by.

1:37 pm: Settle check at register. Items that are removed from total are almost equal to the amount we received. Leave no tip. Walk out. Reconsider my allegiance to the Resta. Consider Calypso Cafe for next week's Friday lunch.

Another Notch in the Belt

This thing is picking up a little steam. So far, so good. I made a 95 on the second test. Talk about an unpleasant exam. It ranked right up there with the annual physical from my doctor.

The Last Stand
One of my lab partners saw the latest X-Men movie, which I still haven't seen. She thought it would be pretty cool if everyone had mutant powers. During lab, she decided that maybe her mutation would be an uncanny ability to determine the number of atoms in any substance. Her name: Avogadro.

That led to the other two of us determining our special powers and choosing names. I'm also working with Balancea, gifted with the ability to accurately measure substances to within 0.00001 of a gram. I'm Pipetto (/pI-'pet-'O/), able to use a pipette to deliver specific amounts of liquid with ridiculous precision.

Sure, it's a pretty limited set of powers but if it ever goes down in the lab, you can bet that we'll kick some ass and take some names.

(I feel really bad about myself.)

Nacho Libre Terrible
J3K bought tix to an advanced screening last night. I even plunked down the $75 for a large Sprite and large popcorn. After noticing the "Free Refills* On Large Drinks and Popcorn" sign, I thought it would be a good value, you know. So, we're sitting in the theater packed to the brim with a whopping 12 people and just shoving handfuls of popcorn into our mouths. We finished the large bag in about 5 minutes. I ran, at full speed, to the concession for a refill.

Quick tip: When sprinting down the darkened hall in a theater, it's important to note where the door is located. At this particular screen, the door wasn't, in fact, at the end of the hall but on the side. This detail defeated my strategy of blasting through the door with tremendous velocity. At full speed, I could neither turn right to exit the door or stop before hitting the wall. I almost Roethlisbergered myself. Luckily, the wall was carpeted with a musty carpet. It reminded me of the carpeted walls at old skating rinks. It tasted as bad as it smelled. I might have a small rug burn on my face and shoulders.

Dazed from my stunning impact, I made it to the concession and got the free refill. Ten minutes later, when I went back for another, the teen working the counter politely pointed out the small print on the refill sign: One per visit. Come on!

Which brings me back to the movie... It was awful. Seriously, I made it about 20 minutes into the movie before I walked out to go find a Galaga machine. Here's the insult to injury: I had to play Millipede. Millipede! Come on! Finally, I took a short nap on a bench in the lobby until J3K, Beth, and Heather walked out which was about 20 minutes after I bailed. What a disappointment.

Nacho Terrible joins these other fine films on the "I Cannot Believe I Wasted My Money and These Precious Moments of My Life On This Piece of $#@&" list:

• Mad Love (1995) - Chris O'Donnel and Drew Barrymore in this steaming turd of a film. Worst part was that I knew it was going to be a bad movie but my date made me go see it. And I paid for the tickets. Mad Love? I was beyond mad.
• Chasing Amy (1997) - I think people are evenly divided on this one. Personally, I thought the acting and direction were terrible. Really, were any of the characters likeable? I really like some of Kevin Smith's other work but this one was terrible. The breaking point: the scene where she's in the parking lot after a hockey game and is just yelling and yelling and crying and yelling. What a terrible attempt at emoting. Seriously, it grated on my last nerve. I set a timer on my watch and decided that if she was yelling at the end of the 30 seconds, I was walking out. She stopped with 2 seconds left. Still should've walked out.
• The Matrix 2: Revolting (2003) - I can't recall the actual dopey name of this one. I loved the part where they inserted the Lenny Kravitz "Are You Gonna Go My Way?" music video into the middle of the film. I got a little freaked out when, during the love scene, I thought I was admiring a woman's body. Camera zooms in and it's Keanu! What??? Terrible. Just terrible. Kudos to the Wachowski brothers for screwing up their original idea in the name of money.
• Mission: Improbable 2 (2000) - My mission: Make it through the movie without laughing hysterically. Couldn't do it. Here's what you get when John Woo directs: softly lit shots of candles in a church just before people start shooting in slow motion while leaping and shooting the pistols they're grippin in each hand. The continuity errors on the motorcycle scenes were awesome. How do tires automatically change from street treads to off-road knobbies? How do you leap over the front of a motorcycle going about 80mph and hit someone in mid-air and live to survive it? Never could buy into it and this was before Cruise was officially batshit crazy.

Fare Thee Well, Old Friend
Just wanted to take a moment to mourn the passing of an old friend.


Since 1988, my trusty Radio Shack calculator has been there with me.

We used to go cruising Bellwood Connector with all the crazy high school kids back in the day. In 1989, we spent an awesome summer down in Valdosta at the Governor's Honors Program. We were growing up together, working out life's problems as a team.

We had some crazy times during our college years, believe me! One night, not long after it had broken up with a slide ruler, it got really drunk on Jaegermeister and started hitting on this guy's girlfriend right in front of him. Man, I had to get us out of a jam on that one.

It was a hard worker. It really put in some hours during my study abroad in Mexico. Hell, it even got my Best Man through medical school.

The last several years were the lean one. It's buttons were pretty worn and its display a little fuzzy. Simple calculations took forever. Whenever we'd go for a spin, it was usually slow and the M+ sign would be blinking the entire time. I didn't mind though.

I'll miss the cute way that part of the 8 was missing so that you really couldn't tell if it was an 8 or a six or something. I'll always remember those times we shared figuring complex equations and the way that it displayed 7734 upside down.

It's tough to watch someone you love get old. I know it's in a better place, though.

I'll miss you old friend.