Back to School

Just to make sure I know that summer is officially over; fall semester has started at College. The first day was true to form, our wolf mascots was running around the hall like the star of a Furries convention. Fellow classmates, less than half my age, wondered around wearing ironically ‘80s outfits. I snickered at the Dudes sporting the neon high tops and graphic -insert generic band here – tee shirts. I did it when it wasn’t ironic.


This semester has me in more history classes, as I’m now a “History Education Major” it’s not a surprise. In keeping with my history major, yesterday found me at my old study place, the Coffee Shop on 9th Avenue. On my first day of class it was decided we would write a five page paper on some part of western civilization in the eighteen-hundreds. Because I’m an idiot, I blurted out; “The Treaty of Utrecht” not knowing anything about this topic other than it was printed on the poster behind my Professor’s head.

Sunday, I found out how incredibly dull this time in history truly was. I’ll spare you the details. Unless they make a movie staring Channing Tatum as Louis XIV of France, and a shirtless Zachary Quinto as the King of Portugal you don’t need to know anything other than, France got some ass kicked. I got my paper done for class, which is all that matters. This was done only by imagining Channing Tatum giving up his power to Zachary Quinto.

I Need a Hero

When I stumbled across this photo I suddlenly stated to sing a Bonnie Tyler song..... 

I wonder why?

http://englishrussia.com/2012/08/16/one-of-the-most-weird-muscovites

Quote

Quote for today:

Never dwell on what you have lost, only on what you have left. Count your blessings. You'll always find plenty. Your most prized possessions are your unexpired years.

-
Author Unknown

Cool

I had a very odd sensation as I walked from my front door to my car. Like something was wrong, not necessarily wrong, just unusual. There wasn’t sweat rolling down from my tightly buttoned shirt collar. It was actually cool outside. A nice light morning breeze drifted and lifted my tie over my shoulder.


Is it time already? Time for the heavy drapery of oppressive heat to break and the mornings and evenings to become cool? I guess it is mid-August, I wonder if my windows still operate? I have been living in a bubble of A/C for so long I am excited about leaving the window open at night.

The Day After

I will not go into a post-Olympic downer. Nope, not me. Not like every time since my first Olympics I became obsessed with back in 1984.

For weeks after the 1984 games ended I moped around the house with nothing to watch on TV, and nothing to dream about.  I spent the entire remaining summer, after the closing ceremonies, begging my Mom to let me try out for my Junior High’s Track and Field team the next school year. I knew that since we lived so far out in the country there wouldn’t be a way for me to get home when the after school practices were done. And no way I could make it to the meets. 

Every four years I become obsessed with the games and attempt to watch every televised event. I watch the Badminton, Lesbian Kayaking, and the even the hours of team Volleyball. I memorize as many athlete’s names as I can. I try to get their entire back-story, and find them on Twitter.  I quiz myself on the number of points each athlete needs to reach the qualifying rounds. I feel what they feel when they don’t win. I cheer when they do win.

For seventeen days I’m the biggest sports fan there is, then it is over.  To quote Michael Phelps, quoting Dr. Seuss, “Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.

Olympics or Porn?

Olympics or Porn?

Olympics or Porn? Day 3

Olympics or Porn? Day 2

14 Days of Summer

Yesterday morning I was in the middle of my run, suddenly a perplexing question came into my head.  When does the fall semester for my school start again?

Class start on the 20^th of this month. That’s only two weeks away. Suddenly, it dawned on me that my summer is over in two weeks. But…but… what happened to my road trip to Devil’s Tower?  Camping?  Lazy evenings spent on the front porch sipping Stella? Now it’s a mere 14 days until I have to step back into a classroom. 

Although, I am one of those nerds that actually like school, and my fall classes are centered on the building of Western Civilization. And, since I’m such an Anglophile, I can’t wait to start class.  The fall semester still just seemed to come out of the blue days of summer.

Summer over, Man! 14 days to drink Stella whilst driving to Devil’s Tower. 

Olympics or Porn?

Mmmmmmichael Phelps.

Benjamin Disraeli is on Google +

“Action not always brings happiness; but there is no happiness without action.”

-Benjamin Disraeli.

This is my quote for the day. Earlier in the week I was discussing my blog with my boss, this is when she mentioned that I should write for the company’s blog site. My response, “I write; I never said I was any good.” Fell upon deaf ears.

Now I’m blogging on a weekly basis and getting paid to do so. Since I accepted my Directorship at a private school, I guess I need to learn to blog as an adult. Yet, since my personal blogging has suffered a tad, maybe this will energize my creative flow….

My first topic:

What’s the deal with that Google +? It’s like hello! Where is everybody?

I kid. Google + you’re all-right. Although, maybe I could stop with the quoting of British Prime Ministers.

Apples to Apples

When we stepped across the threshold of the Moroccan Bazaar that is the Apple store I could hear the moan come from Fuzzy.  I was determined to finally go for the thirteen inches I so desperately want before school starts again in the fall. Fuzzy, my homosexual lifetime companion partner was tired of his thirteen and wanted to finally move up to fifteen inches.

Remember when the Apple store was an all white, quiet sanctuary, not unlike the world of Logan’s Run?

Now the store is more like the original Star Trek…

With all the choices and options it soon became too much for the Fuzz man. He began looking towards that door and the safety of the Cinnabon counter. That’s when, after a Red Shirt asked if we were the ones asking for an Apple Specialist that spoke Espanol, it dawned on me that we needed an Apple crewmember that spoke Loud Italian/IML Finalist. An individual that could relate.

This is when, no doubt smelling the fear of solid-state fused hard drives, our specialist found us. Manson.  Finally a Mac Specialist that spoke gay.  A smartly dressed lesbian, that quickly explained to Fuzzy that he could pop all his favorite X-tube vids onto the bedroom TV. 

If it were not for Mason, I’d be the proud owner of Microsoft Office for Apple. Thinking I needed the program for my school papers, Mason explained that Apple has thought of this and made Import/Export options for it word editor.

As Fuzzy and I sat later at Cinnabon, I thought again about the experience with our sales-lesbian.  If you have questions, find the right person, the right person that also understands you.