'more snaps'

I know I haven't posted in a while, so here's my cop-out. I just recently came across a pile of photos I took almost FOUR years ago.

Lindsay

Adam

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'really? but you don't look that geeky.'

I've joined this D&D campaign, see. I know, it sounds really dorky. That's really why I hadn't tried it before. I thought it was all pimply pre-adolescents, running around in capes and plastic swords, talking about their uber-sweet level 24 wizards with +37 intelligence and pet chimeras.

Turns out (tho I admit there is *some* joking around that involves 'stats'), it's not nearly as nerdy as I thought. In fact, if you let it, it provides a rich and unbelievably entertaining stage for this. this story that you're telling with your friends.

But. Here's the catch. You have to have an awesome DM (He's the guy --or girl-- who actually creates the world that your characters interact in). Luckily I do. ^_^

This particular campaign is completely online, so for your reading enjoyment, (read as: do. not. post. -- that's what the 'comment' button's for *grin*)

http://aptsplat.com/v-web/bulletin/bb/viewtopic.php?t=49

Comment

C o m m e n t s

' ...and I'm driving the Tank of Light behind you, spinnin' up some beats for the show! ;-)'

alias
1333.Saturday June 11. 2005

'fucking lucky'

So. I was feeling depressed as I sometimes do about how i don't seem to have much of a handle on my life. And how I can't come up with a way to make it count in a way that's important enough for me. And, although I have a large number of acquaintances, I have precious few truly close friends. And so I turned to my old buddy, thefacebook, to check on my menagerie, my stable, my collection of friends, hoping for some sort of relief or answer.

---

The number of friends that I have is surprisingly high. It surprised me to note that I joined thefacebook not a year and five days ago. Have I really met this many people in just one year? No. Three years.

I started flipping through them, trying to weed out ones that I don't *really* know. People like "Bill Clinton" and "Donatello - my favorite ninja turtle". But as I did it, I realized that there were several people who I've met, but not really gotten to know very well. As I flipped, the number of them got higher and higher, and so I became sadder and sadder.

So then I decided to come up with a way to 'take stock' of my friends -- by trying to come up with a numerical figure to quantify their allegiance to me (I know. putting it this way makes me sound a little crazy. a little power-hungry. like I'm trying to forge some sort of Jeff Nation or Army or something. who knows? I might be). What was the rule of the game?

How much money would Jerry Junior and Sally Sophmore be willing to pay if they knew I was in trouble and somehow this money would aid me?

It seemed like a very accurate measure, actually. I only went through like a dozen pages before I got tired of the game, but the results were different than I thought they'd be.

I thought that the results would be very stratified: this many would pay exactly $5 and this many $50. But really, they were far more varied: this many would pay $1, this many $2, this many $5, $10, $20, $30, $40, $100, etc..

I expected that all but a handful would go on the low side; but actually the distribution was far more even. I don't have friends who are best, good, and vaguely friends with me; I have friends of all degrees and qualities of friendship. Friends who would take me under their wing and friends who look up to me. Friends who would loan me their keys, trust me with their cat, and even a couple I know that would take a bullet for me (granted, I'm including my siblings in this measure).

And that's one thing that kind of surprised me about this test. I found that of all these friends, both OJ and Natasha are honestly my best friends. Even if I don't talk to them every day. Some of you might not be surprised (especially if you know me well), but really not everyone is so lucky.

So if you ever really find yourself feeling down about such things, dear reader, DO take stock. I'm sure you'll find that you have a lot more people who care about you than you think.

--god. this is really starting to sound like a homily.

This is one theme that I've been starting to discover and think about a lot these recent months. The importance of family.

It's bothersome how little that sentence means these days, as it's been drained of all potency through cliche. Hm..

Imagine a giant medieval battle between two armies. One army is dark and snarling -- marching on towards the other army. The second army, when you take a look at it again is really me, OJ, and Natasha on the frontlines (tearing apart the enemy with our L33t martial arts skillz: protecting eachother while keeping the enemy at bay) and with my parents in the back. Throwing mortars.

This is one way I think of my family.

[--will finish later-- ed]

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'Miss Matador'

Is there anything more pathetic than a guy who just doesn't get that he has been friend-zoned? Maybe a puppy that's lost all but one of its limbs because it wouldn't quit trying to 'hold the elevator.'

I understand that often a girl will lead a guy on for fear that his interest in her would evaporate if it were doused in the cold waters of platonicity. Which is understandable --I'm sure girls have to deal with that a lot.

I maintain, however, that this tactic is self-defeating and actually will leave her with fewer male friends than not in the long run.

If the guy finds out that she has a boyfriend or is just not that interested right from the start, he might be cool with being "just friends." BUT. If he's lead around in circles and can't make sense of the mixed signals constantly being thrown at him, he may just resent her and avoid her for chinking his male pride.

Don't get me wrong; I've been called a flirt on more than one occasion (Actually, maybe the friends back home would think that more than the ones here at college: as I used to be a much bigger flirt in high school). So maybe I'm a hypocrite. Actually no: I can't say I've ever flirted with a man before. Seriously.

------------

Hm. Maybe flirting has a lot more to do with your personality than it does what sort of signals you're *trying* to send.

If that were the case, then maybe it's just my fault for choosing to deal with that type of girl.

--But then again. That brings about the whole problem with classifying people into subsets and generalizations. If I keep thinking about girls in subsets, then how am I to ever get to *really* know one?

I have several female friends that I know on a more-than-subset level. And it's because of them that I don't really believe in the girl-typing that I use when considering a potential date (is she a hippie? a paris-hilton-wanna-be? a techno-kitten?). My friends make it seem as tho it's absolutely impossible to classify ANYONE. But maybe that's just the calibre of person I choose to be my friend.

------------------

I apologize for this wandering post.

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C o m m e n t s

'mm.. every other week or so..'

alias
1336.Saturday June 11. 2005

' ugh..i dunno, like 5-8 times before. can't remember.'

Anonymous
1141.Thursday May 12. 2005

' I check every other week'

Fat Ass Penguin
0036.Thursday May 12. 2005

' like once a month...?'

woot woot
2056.Tuesday, May 10. 2005

'I check your blog almost every day, but that frequency is dwindling since I've been home, have more to do, and have shitty internet. I'll say at least several times a week.'

John Jarzemsky
1633.Monday, May 9. 2005

'Poll-by-comment'

So. How many people actually read this blog? I'm actually really curious. Is it as few as five? As many as ten? To measure this, I've decided to conduct a poll.

Please, if you love baby jesus, hit that comment link at the bottom of this post; enter "poll" in the first field, frequency of visits (is this your first time reading my blog? or do you check it every week? every day?!) in the second field, and obviously your name in the third field.

Oh! Secondly, I'd like to draw your attention to this piece: . Finally! Something that I consider more representative (than my usual stuff) of what my work can be if I put in more than an hour (avoiding the whole studying-for-exams thing, you see). I dunno. I always get really excited about my newest work, but for some reason I'm more excited about this one than most. Maybe it's because I finally think I've hit a balance between being suggestive and overt.

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C o m m e n t s

'Actually, it's one of the six psych responses I had to turn in before the end of the semester. I posted it because I think that the topics were quite interesting. I plan to post more when I get time.'

Jeff
1616.Sunday, May 8. 2005

'Jeff...fascinating as all this is...what's the point?'

John Jarzemsky, aka, Emcee JJ Fresh
1540.Sunday, May 8. 2005

'and.. i love you'

Tashie
1032.Sunday, May 8. 2005

'Food'

11. Eat a portion of your next meal with your eyes closed. Describe how your senses work together to help you avoid eating food that might be dangerous.

How do my senses work together to "see" if an object is harmful? Well, let's assume I'm blind-folded. And am handed an object by a friend to possibly eat.

First my hands come in contact with the object. Will I immediately drop it because it is too hot or cold to hold? How heavy is it? My fingers explore its surface. My fingernails tap against it. By this point, I try to identify what it is. It's cold, hard, and metallic by the sound of it. Very thin and light. Definately a knife, handed blade first. Jerk. I arch an eyebrow and smirk, my friend laughs.

Again.

First I grasp the object. It's cold. And heavier than I thought it would be. It almost slips out of my hand. Drops of cold kiss my wrist and lay quietly (not dancing against my arm-hair nor making fizzy noises). Ah, probably water. It yields slightly to my touch. Not particularly hard or furry. I scratch the surface of what I assume is a cup with my fingernails. Probably Styrofoam. I leave slight indentations in the surface and it just *sounds* like styrofoam. I bring it to my face. No heat or steam brushes my face, as expected. I bring my nose to the rim. No bubbles tickle. I draw a long and careful breath. Can't really identify a scent. Not coke. Not orange juice. Nor ink or urine. Probably water.

I pour a little into my mouth. The fact that it's cold registers before the confirmation that it's a liquid. It tastes like water. Definately not Evian (sadly): possibly Dasani or tap. I swallow. My tongue feels drier -- no saliva. Tap water.

Again.

My fingers close around the object. Not as cold as the last object, but still colder than room temperature. It crinkles and there seems to be a stiffer object inside. That object also bends when slightly more pressure is applied. So something soft wrapped in paper. Wait no -- the paper holds its shape too well. I smell it. Pennies. It's foil. I unwrap it.

I feel what's inside and tug. A piece tears off grudgingly. I scratch the surface. It is soft, and small doughy threads roll off. I pinch it between my fingers and it gives. Hm. I bring it to my nose and sniff it. Chocolate. No, something choclate-flavored. It didn't feel like chocolate. It didn't melt with the heat of my hands.

My teeth sink into it without any trouble. No bones or rocks inside. It's room temperature. My teeth and tongue turn it over and quickly transform it into a warm, gooey mass. All my tongue can tell me is: chocolate. Not stale and probably not rotten. But chocolate is pungent enough of a flavor to mask mild rottenness. But by the distinct way it comes apart in my mouth, it was certainly a non-rotten, soft-baked cookie. Now it's food.

So it seems, first I try to figure out what the object is before trying to eat it (regardless of if I have sight). If I can, I then match it against a database in my head of 'edible things.' If I can't figure out what it is, I stick it in my mouth and see if it complains. If it's too bitter or hot or my teeth bounce of it, it's probably not edible. At least not yet.

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C o m m e n t s

'dude, jeff, i've got to get you some updated picture of myself... lol'

alias
1339.Saturday June 11. 2005

'jeffie.. that pic was like freshman year.. however, im SOO excited im FINALLY on your web page! and holy crap im like flipping out cause your coming home so soon!! WOO WOO brother sister time :-D'

Tashie
1031.Sunday, May 8. 2005

'JJ&K: Jessica, Karen and myself...sort of like peanut butter and jelly; we all exist separately, but are typically found together.'

Jennifer
2311.Wednesday, April 20. 2005

'Ok, so I just caught up on like a month and half's worth of weblogs. I thought the EQ [actually, it's WoW, not EQ ~_^ --ed] entry was funny because I got to read it first. I need to do a survey for old times sake and play around on this okcupid site. This whole "Barah" is starting to confuse my brain as I sometimes accidentally think it's referring to me. Lastly, we need to get you a better picture of me - one where I'm not flipping off the camera or have things written on my forehead. Haha, I miss you Jeffy!'

Sarah
1422.Wednesday, April 20. 2005

'JJ&K stands for Jessica, Jennifer, and Karen. OR Jennica & Karen. They three are attatched by invisible bonds, so that one may not be seen with out the others.

I'm sorry, I was trying to impress you. I don't know what it means. I'll be honest, I don't think anyone knows what it means anymore. Scholors maintain that the translation was lost hundreds of years ago.'

Jeff
1227.Monday, April 18. 2005

'What's "JJ&K" mean? Also, that's a sweeet pic of me.'

John Jarzemsky
0243.Sunday, April 18. 2005

'Snaps'

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'spotting a virgin'

Bah Ha ha ha!!!

So I just took OKcupid's 'Virgin' test: where you look at a pair of photos and have to pick the virgin of the two.

Ironically, I scored a 61%; I was dead on at spotting female virgins and got like all the male ones wrong.

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'The fall of the Warrior and Rogue'

Below: Walkaer, the level 23 night elf Hunter. I think I've spent more time being him than me these past 3 weeks. Also there is my newest Pet, my newest best friend: Stabby. He's a scorpion whom I tamed during my next to most recent jaunt deep into enemy territory. I was killed 3 times just trying to get there -- and I'm pretty good by now. I can even turn invisible sometimes. It's sad I have so many stories that most have no interest in hearing. *sigh*

for example: [and keep in mind. this actually happened -- this isn't just some story I cooked up]

Early this morning I was escorting this younger player into the territory where I first caught Stabby. We were asked by some Astranaarians to kill a certain mage who lived in the Barrens (he had brainwashed several hundred peacable water elementals: turning them into monsters with a taste for Elven-blood. This, of course, could not stand. Me being Elven and all).

I'm a Hunter, so I get a few really cool spells that (when I weave them together with an almost musical amount of key-clacking) allow me to know where all hostile creatures are in relation to me. So I seemingly ran eyes-closed through this forest of enemies; maneuvering *just so*-- darting first left, then forward, then left again -- never stopping and not always going in the exact right direction, but always getting *that* much closer to Stonetalon Peak. A few times I goofed just by a hair (you see, with Kapo trailing behind me, sometimes the small shifting gaps between us and those knife-wielding loggers were so fine that although I was able to slip past them, he was not. Since he was blind to this sea of goblin-loggers, giant-spiders, and these mammoth-stegosauras-things called Cliffstormers, all he could do was follow and trust). The resulting pitched battles were a bit hairy, but Stabby was eager for blood and gleefully threw himself into the fray with. um. glee.

After a good ten minutes, we finally made it through Windshear Crag and headed for the Peak. I made a little detour so Kapo, having not ever been up this way, could visit the local hippograph master and add the Peak to his little book and come back whenever he wanted. Without me. Tho the crag was infested with swarms of enemies, the way up to the peak harbored a different sort of danger. With far fewer hungry beasts, many of the Horde found it convenient to lay ambushes for us peacable Alliance-members along the path to the Peak. Having experienced this first-hand, I warned Kapo this while giving him a hand up.

Sure enough, a mile or so down the road what did we see but two larger-stronger Horde-members about to jump a determined, if tired-looking, priest -- jogging his way up to the summit. Unfortunately we were so far away that we were sure to be of little help. At seeing what was about to happen Kapo fixed me with a grim look and I nodded. We tore down the side of the cliff roaring obscenities and curses -- distracting the cloven-hooved Warrior and green-skinned Rogue from their human lunch. In vain. Upon seeing our determined charge, the Tauren dispatched the hapless priest and turned at me. The Orc grinned and made a rude guesture as his form shimmered and then disappeared! As he was the one I was intent on, I took pause and fruitlessly cast about for him. As I was searching, someone stunned me from behind. I'm not sure which one it was. Thing is, in my haste to save the priest, I didn't even take the time to call my scorpion to battle! And stunned as I was, I couldn't pull out my whistle and call for his aid! After a few moments, I came to and was amazed at the sight that I saw. Kapo had somehow not only drawn the Tauren off of me, but was also somehow using his Druidic magic to entangle the Orc with tree roots WHILE deflecting blows that the Tauren was raining down on him!

Unfortunately, he tired sooner than I was able to get my shit together (having been in relatively few battles with other people, I was admittedly frazzled and fell to pieces), and I was cut down. Kapo fell soon after.

Long story short, the pair were able ambush us a second time (while we were weak from making the journey from the ghost world to the 'real' world) before we got to enemy territory and butcher us. The third time they had another compatriot with them, but WE were ready. This third battle took much longer, but we were able to dispatch all three with teamwork. I finally gathered my wits so that I directed Stabby well enough and aimed true enough that Kapo was able to slay them without too much trouble. I was then able to guide Kapo to the fallen-Mage and together we took him down so easily we laughed. He was rather dim compared to the pair we had faced so many times on our way. Sure he had a dozen mercs guarding him, but they didn't work together as a team, so we picked them off two at a time and took the Mage's head to the Astranaarians as proof of our feat.

Comment

C o m m e n t s

' In this day and age, it's very hard for a straight man to extend a friendly offer to a woman he doesn't know that well without it coming off as an invitation for potential romance. That being said, would you say Hans Hoffman falls under the stylistic heading of "abstract expressionism"?'

John Jarzemsky
1524.Monday, March 44. 2005

'a misunderstood misunderstanding'

Sometime last semester I was walking to my car when I ran into a girl from one of my classes. It was about lunch time and I was going to treat myself to a steak for one reason or another. I remembered that she didn't have a car so I asked her if she wanted to join me (I figured she didn't get off-campus much).

Anyway, she took it to mean that I was asking her on a date. She apologized, pointed out that she was late for class (which she had already mentioned at the beginning of the conversation), but that she'd really like to sometime.

I was surprised at her assumption (tho in hindsight I really shouldn't have been: I mean come on), as I really did just mean it as like a friendly-favor-type-thing: she would have been pleasant lunch company even tho I didn't think of her in *that* way. But I didn't correct her.

Mostly because right at that very moment, I started to think of her in *that* way (why didn't I want this to be a date? Truth to tell, it just didn't OCCUR to me. But now that it has...).

But she was late to class and left. And in the last few weeks of the semester I didn't actually ask her out. I think b/c I was already quasi-dating Barah at the time.

So why did I dredge up this memory?

If I were asking this girl out, she still did the EXACT right thing in order to keep my attentions. I used to easily get bored of girls who didn't make me 'work for it'. for example, she rain-checked, while still making it clear that such advances were, in fact, welcome.

So now, I'm going to call her and try and figure out a way for her life to overlap with mine in a meaningful way. (read as: NOT ask her out to coffee).

Comment

'in a nutshell'

OkCupid says I'm RIDICULOUSLY more artsy and arrogant than other males my age, FAR more extroverted and independant, and also much less loving. I'm flattered and --HEY! >8(

Comment

'on a lighter note'

man...I haven't done one of these in EIGHT years..
i should really be in class.

Name: J. F. De*****
Age: 22
Birthdate: November 15th
Zodiac: Scorpio - passionate and mysterious
Location: Saint Louis, MO

Nicknames: Jeff, RCC Jeff, Walkaer, sniping-bastard, curry-face

Hair color: black
eye color: black (according to my passport)
Piercings: none
tattoos: none

THE LOOKS...

Freckles: um..I'm Indian.
Wavy/Straight/Curly Hair: wavy
Hair length: number 5 on the clippers ;)
color of nails: um..light pink? transparent I guess. ohhh, I don't paint my nails.

THE RANDOM...

Do you press down hard when you write? not really.
What is on your keychain: keys. and a flashdrive.
School: Washington University in Saint Louis
Car: 2004 Ford Explorer
Have you ever worked for a restaurant? does baking bread being SOLD to a restaurant count?
Do you have a pencil blister? fuck yeah.
Do you have little white marks under your nails? ...what?
Do you have long/short nails? short on my left hand, long on my right.

What time is it? 1741

Do you have a lucky number? fortune cookies say 8; but I just *like* the number 7.
Do you drugs? nothing too hardcore.
Do you drink? Yes
Do you have a cd burner? this must be an old survey.
Who do you hate? The only person I know well enough to hate is myself. and I love myself ^_^
Who hates you? apparently other drivers...
How many buddies are on your buddy list? 200
How many buddies are online right now? 95
Which ones are you talking to? John, Natasha, and Ting Ting
What did you do yesterday? A shit load of homework; made a website for WashU Yoga
What did you do today? Did some homework, turned it in, caught a few hours of sleep, went to lab, had some dinner/breakfast, worked on the weblog ;)
What are you doing tomorow? choosing between the WashU gymnastics team and the WashU videoGame Society
What are you doing this weekend? visiting my little sister for her birthday =)
What did you do last weekend? Got drunk a lot. Owned my roomies at Halo. heh heh.
What are you going to do when this is over? shit. I hadn't thought that far. I hope this never ends.

THE RELATIONSHIP OR LOVE...

Are you currently inlove? nope
Have you ever been inlove? yup
Your crush? hm...I haven't really decided yet.
First Kiss: Claire Gordon
First boyfriend/girfriend: Keri Griffith
Is there anyone you would date again? hell. no.
Do you beileve in love at first sight? lust maybe, even infatuation at first sight; but not love.

THE LAST...

thing you ate: Ribs from Marion's Ribs
thing you drank: half a glass of tap water
thing you said: Sure dude, I'll pick you up.
person you saw: Cal
person who called: Cal. To ask me to pick him up.
person you called: Craig, to apologize for being late.
person you hugged:Constance, maybe? no-- Anuj.
perosn you kissed: ....Barah.
person to ride in your car: Niko
car you rode in other then your own: Andy's
told you they loved you: Natasha (my sister) a good hour ago.
movie you watched: Hitch (awesome date movie, btw)
movie you saw in the theater: Hitch
person you gave the finger: Cal or Andy or Anuj (in jest)
person who gave you the finger: Cal or Andy or Anuj
person you missed: amy or lindsay or rachel or shivvy or sarah (funny--I miss them each in a different way; also funny that none of them are men).
phone number you called: didn't it already ask this? Christ, John.
thing you saw on t.v.: mtv/vh1?
song you heard: Nothing Better by The Postal Service

THE NUMBERS...

Number of continents i have visited: 3
Number of boys i have french kissed: none
Number of girls i have kissed: oh god. um. shit.
Number of girls i have french kissed: I'm NOT telling.
Number of drugs taken illegally: 1. 2 if you count that time Lindsay dropped Morphine in my mouth while I was asleep, but I immediately spat out in disgust. 3 if you count alcohol while I was underage.
Number of people i would classify as "true, could trust with my life" type friends: 6 (counting siblings)
Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper: three?
Number of scars on my body: eight(ish) -- I'm sure I'm forgetting some. I was a crazy kid. Did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally stabbed myself in the thigh with an exacto knife? down to the hilt?
Number of times a person has made me scared of what they could do to me physically: I got my ass beat all the time when I was a kid. since I started training in martial arts? twice.
Number of things in my past that i regret: I think I have a regret for everyone I love or have loved.
Anything else? I need to get me another survey.

Comment

'apology'

It's funny. I spend all this time reflecting on previous experiences, trying to grow my wisdom and thinking that I've become wiser than my years. and then I go and make this stupid mistake. this thoughtless and egocentric choice: all in the name of my 'weblog'.

I was told something in confidence, and regardless of whether or not I deemed it a big deal, it wasn't my secret to tell.

You'll notice I haven't deleted the entry; it'd be like my mistake never happened. Again, it's all about me, but I feel I've covered her embarrassment as many of my friends have asked me, "who's Barah? do you mean Sarah?" No. Her name isn't Sarah either.

And I don't want to erase my mistake. I want to leave that scar of an entry. I'm still making horrible, loud mistakes and I'm learning from them: I won't hide from them -- by pretending that they didn't happen or by letting people think I'm any less of a dick than I sometimes can be.

I'm sorry, Barah.

Comment

c o m m e n t s

' Jeff, we need to talk'

Barah
1410.Friday, Feb 04. 2005

'Two quotations to think about:
"Frailty, thy name is woman." -Hamlet

"Girls are only after one thing: your man juice. They are evil! Your only true friend is this [*holds up right hand*]."

Jeff,
Just to stick with John Jar's trend of song quotations i will look to my good friend Whitney Houston. "IIII Will Always love youuuuuuuuu!'

Matt Naifeh
2326.Monday, Jan 24. 2005

'What you have to realize Jeff, is that women are not people like us. They're devices made by the Lord Jesus Christ for our amusement. When you look at things that way suddenly everything becomes easier. :) Because their opinions don't matter. lol. Just kidding of course.
.......
women are things.'

Alex Jarzemsky
1508.Sunday, Jan 23. 2005

'I would say to always be yourself, and never play the facade, because that way you'll only become involved with people who, as Blessed Union of Souls would say, "Likes you for You", but I haven't had too much luck with that strategy. So I guess my advice is this: have your checklist written out and when you're about to kiss her, say "hold on", and hand her the list. Saves time AND money!'

John Jarzemsky
1937.Friday, Jan 21. 2005

'i think you should just kiss her, like invite her over on say thursday or friday and just kiss her'

Anonymous
0053.Thursday, Jan 20. 2005

tho the previous post was about girls and their goddamn checklists, I've started to re-examine my own system of thought.

I mean, I'm still convinced that girls all have their blacklists -- AND that it grows longer as they grow older; but now that I think about it, that's not the only reason why I'm in the habit of putting on 'the facade.'

For the past few years I've been saturated by this single culture which makes it okay to present this guise soley for the purpose of hooking up.

In order to be an acceptable candidate for a hook-up, the facade that I spoke of is a useful tool to 'sync up' with the opposite sex. I know it sounds horrible (and it's not like I really rationalized it or knew I was doing it). But you both know what's going on, even if it is a little shady.

and that's why I made that rule about not dating virgins.

Hooking up with someone under these somewhat nebulous circumstances, where there IS room for misinterperetation, is one thing; but having sex is quite something different. And being someone's First? I'm not really that religious, but the only word that seems to carry the weight of something that criminal for me is 'sin.'

But now I'm not looking for a one-night-stand anymore. Does my no-virgin rule still apply?

I'm thinking no. For one thing, as I'm not looking for 'a piece of ass,' the whole question of sex is something that I won't deal with until I truly care for this girl.

Oh right, I suppose I should mention that I've started seeing this girl. Let's call her...Barah (--ed 02.04.05). I have no clue as to how serious or casual of a relationship she's looking for. In fact, half the time I can't tell if she even likes me. I can't read her like I can other girls; maybe that's the reason why she captivates me so. Besides her matchless beauty and piercing intelligence, of course. ;)

Anyway, where was I?

am I just rationalizing a way out of my rule, just so I can date Barah (--ed 02.04.05)? maybe. but if that's the case, then my conscience must already be clean, so I suppose the question is already moot.

'the checklist'

have you ever felt like you were being compared to a checklist when you start dating someone?

Here's how it's supposed to go: you make friends with a girl. You hold nothing back and are always completely honest. You act silly or goofy and basically just be yourself. eventually you realize that you're in love with your best friend.

That's how it's been for me in the past. sounds romantic, neh?

It seems like these days you feel like you have to go into it backwards. You run into someone gorgeous who you just *have* to kiss. You present this flawless, dead artifice that is attractive. Then you slowly drop your guard and admit that you like to play videogames. later you let slip your addiction to fantasy literature. and then the fact that you're a sucker for cheesy romantic movies.

then hold your breath, cross your fingers, and hope that none of those oh-so-very-tawdry facts are on her blacklist.

----

then again, maybe you're just helping to expand your new friend's horizons by teasing her boundaries a little farther 'out there' after you've let her get comfortable enough (with you) to do so.

-----

i guess it really just boils down to patience. In that the first method requires a hell of a lot more patience than the latter. and has no guarantees.

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'the difference'

To be confident, without looking arrogant.
To be humble, without seeming a pushover.

It's possible to be both, I'm convinced. Lately I feel that I've been unsuccessful at the first and not even bothering with the second.

And how is humbleness really achieved? You can look at a guy and say 'oh he's humble.' But is there a way to consciously BE humble?

One of my biggest pet-peeves is false-humbleness.

You can try to SEEM humble, but too often I run into guys (especially in martial arts, where humbleness is vaunted) who are trying to look humble; but but aren't convincing at all. Especially when they're all, "look what I can do!" (yes, I'm not talking about just one guy). I don't want to be another one of those.

When you look into their eyes, you see their almost desperate desire to be acknowledged. Could that be the key? Maybe it's only when you don't care about others' opinions of you that you can really be humble. Or evil. Or lazy.

I guess that can't be the only key.

Hmmm. And humble people (or Humbles, as I call them) want others to think well of them, I'm sure. Could it be that it's that their focus is on becoming better people for themselves, instead of doing it for others to admire them? But I feel that that's just the definition of the word 'humble.'

----

After consulting Dictionary.com it seems to me that arrogance and humbleness are tied to eachother: in that arrogance is the state of having overbearing pride and humbleness the state of not being prideful. So maybe all I have to do is manage my pride in a better way ;)

Maybe it'd fit on a scale like so:
Arrogant --- Confident -*- Humble --- Footstool

But I really feel like you can be extremely confident and still be very humble. so maybe the scale would be more like this:
Arrogant --- Confident&Humble --- Footstool

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'A Good Fit'

When I got to American University, I have to say, I was rather disappointed by the whole collge experience. Then I transferred to WashU and found I felt the same way. There were contributing factors, but I think that moving to a new city is a lot like getting a new girlfriend.

I found that when I started dating someone new, her body didn't quite physically fit with mine the same way the old did. And I don't necessarily mean sex here. I mean in an embrace or walking arm-in-arm. Just random puzzle-pieces jammed together.

A new city is the same way. At first it's awkward and at times you wonder if you made the right decision. But after a while you turn around and realize that you're home.

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'Worth It?'

That year that I dated Rachel made me feel stronger than I've ever felt before in my life. But looking back, it wasn't healthy. It was more like a fever that heated my blood -- bolstering me so that I came to depend on it, then leaving me a torched husk when gone. And i've been numb for the two years since.

No one's been able to get to me. make me feel. or piss me off.

And then I met this girl back home. She's nosed something awake in me. It's a lot like what I felt back when I was with Rachel: a low kindle where there was a wildfire. and it's a different color than the one before, if feelings could have color.

I'd say I'm very fond of her. and attracted like a magnet.

The weirdest part. The scariest part -- is that even though she's the first girl to make me feel this way in so very long: I don't want to date just her. She goes to school in a different part of the country and so we only see eachother a few times a year, so I couldn't even if I wanted to (we've both been burnt by long distance relationships). And I'm okay with it.

Maybe it's because I don't know her all that well yet. Or because I don't trust her. Or because I'm only twenty-two and don't want to be chained to a single girl.

Is letting someone close enough to hurt you worth it?

Is it possible for me to want someone who won't hurt me? Lately the girls I've been most attracted to are the ones who flake out on me a lot.

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c o m m e n t s

'That's fucking incredible dude. I wish I knew how to do cool stuff.'

John Jarzemsky
1631.Thursday, Nov 18. 2004

'Gravity, What? revisited'

uh-yes. that is me.

Clip 1
Clip 2

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'line weight'

I have been so blessed to have such amazing art teachers over the years. So rarely have I had moments of great insight concerning art directly due to the actions of said teachers that I can actually list them out right now:

In 8th grade, Ms. Martin showed me that I could actually create decent sculptures out of clay by introducing me to the subtractive method.

In 11th grade, Mrs. Sanders showed me that I could actually create decent paintings by, well, teaching me the basics of paint application and color theory (although for some reason she told us that by mixing any complimentary colors you get brown; which is untrue and confused the hell out of me for a long-ass time). I was really introduced to almost all non-pencil media by her and consider her (what? my mentor?) responsible for a lot of my current technical skills.

In 13th grade, my painting teacher at American University (her name escapes me at the moment, which I really feel really really really bad about), who I think labeled herself a colorist, showed me how to desaturate my colors without dumping titanium white into them.

In 14th grade, my sculpture teacher at Washington University, Soo Sunny Park, exposed me to something that gave me an answer to a dilemma that'd been nagging at me for quite a while. I'd been stumped by my desire to show more than was possible in the picture plane (I never was much of a fan of picasso and cezanne's solutions -- at least not for my own work); she helped me break out of 2D and carve, weld, and dremmel.

And now, in 16th grade, I had an epiphany yesterday, concerning line weight. My Drawing teacher, Jill Downen, helped me to realize why I've been having so much trouble with visual emphasis in my drawings.

Up until now I've not really given much thought about line. I had "realized" that line was just the boundary between two different values in a picture (i.e. the edge of a shadow against a lighter colored wall; or the corner of a table where the light hits one edge more directly than another). But that DOESN'T HAVE TO BE TRUE. Because of this dogma that I had kept to, I've thought of lines as infinately thin marks that don't really exist.

But what if a line on a page was something else?

I do it all the time. When I draw cartoons or really anything 'not from reference.' Where are the value boundaries there?

I'm sure I have more to say, but I'm drizzunk and it's time to crash.

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'skillz'

What do Hawaiian firedancing (Poi), spinning two glowsticks on strings around your body in hypnotic circles, the juggling pattern Mill's Mess, and the kung fu form Heaven Sticks all have in common?

The exact same hand movements.

I am filled with wonder at how so many different disciplines originating from so many places across the globe are so interconnected. But then, I suppose there are only so many different ways you can weave your limbs about in an interesting way without them getting tangled up in themselves, no?

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'waaaah'

I've been meaning to post these pics from Nightmarket for a while: they're from after CNYF last year. Muchos gracias Niarcas for elbowing up to the front and snapping such wonderful pics ;)

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'Jesus was a doormat'

>>AIM convo (my side of it)
that's a good question man

I've been thinking hard about it.

don't get me wrong. she's cute.

but I have had a strict non-hitting-on-girls-with-boyfriends policy up until now.

but she seems cool. if she asks me to lunch or whatever I'll go, of course (as a friend).

but as to like dislodging her bf and dating her (even tho I don't even like know her)

...ehhhh....

I hated Will for doing that.

even tho now I realize it was Rachel's doing as much as him

yeah. the one guy I've ever truly hated.

he...um. ...helped...her realize that monogamous relationships weren't for her.

but yeah. it was totally rachel as much as him.

but still. I never want to be that to someone else, you know?

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'the da Vinci code of conduct'
warning: unfinished post

Lately, I've come to feel that part of my life philosophy is gravely wrong. When I was a kid I read a book on Leonardo da Vinci and decided to model my life after him. As a ten-year-old I set myself to crack the riddle of life. The best I could do was decide that when I died, I would know everything there was to know in this world, or as close to as possible. I actually remember that exact instant: I was perched on the casing of the rear wheel inside of the stuffy cargo hold of one of my dad's delivery trucks which was heading down a giddy slope towards the bakery.

And so I decided to learn how to juggle. And pick locks. And 'speak' sign language. And at least a hundred other skills that I'm too tired to enumerate at the moment (but may actually sit down and list, if the mood takes me).

The point is: so what? So I can cook a mean curry or dance a sexy salsa. What's the point? But then, one can argue that after we die, we just rot in the ground, so what's the point of even living? and suddenly the problem gets magnified to the size of the universe. So let's keep it tight and specific: how is my life really enriched by possessing these skills?

Is it so I can teach my son (or daughter) everything I know or be as much of a god as my father was for me?

And when listing my skills I feel like some of them are worthwhile afterall, like 'being able to talk to a stranger' or 'lovemaking.' So are just social skills the valuable ones?

This, of course, needs more thinking out (even the entry itself isn't really all that coherent and just a cataloging of stray thoughts. And for that I apologize). I'll either come back and fix this post or just create a new one with what I've decided on the topic (if I ever do resolve it).

oh. and by the way, although I learned 'how' to pick locks, I never actually successfully ever picked one; so your valuables are safe ;)

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'on the mend'

I broke my left middle finger the night after Rachel and I were done, almost exactly two years ago. Come to think, the hurts from that time, in a way, mirror eachother:

Most of the time, I don't even think about my finger. It's long past gotten to the point where I can use it again, it just doesn't quite bend all the way. If I force it, there's a twinge and suddenly I find myself in a world of pain, even tho it's been such a long long time. In fact, I wonder if it's ever going to heal all the way.

Also, I have a very acute fear of rubber sneakers on wet wood. Especially if there's cement nearby (this means that I'm afraid of commitment).

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'Lucien, the one-armed grocer'

The night before last I went to a Steak and Shake drive-thru for the first time. I was in something of a hurry and ordered the first thing I saw on their menu (a single-patty cheeseburger that totalled up to approximately $2.77). I pulled up, handed over my money and waited for my burger.

and waited...

and waited.

I began to get impatient and annoyed that my single-patty-everything-but-mayo-burger was taking so long to make until I looked through the drive-thru window. Inside I saw a young man in his early 30's in a spotless Steak&Shake uniform (crisply ironed) piecing together half a dozen burgers.

He was working quickly and efficiently. But not hurriedly. I couldn't see his face, but I'm sure that if I had I would have seen his tongue protruding slightly from his mouth and a look of concentration across his brow.

I haven't seen anyone work so deliberately and with so much care, outside of studio.

He finished with my burger and in three quick swipes had it packaged and bagged. He handed me my dinner, looked me straight in the eye, apologized sincerely for the delay, and nodded as I mumbled goodbye.

So overwhelmed was I by this man that the look he gave me is burned into my memory. In his eyes was not disinterest, nor fatigue, nor rancor: but rather a striking dignity which made me think to myself, "I want to be like him."

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'an old old poem'

It was a cruel mirage, but we could pretend it wasn't;
to wallow in the bitter and bathe in the sweet
for a time too short. All we ever had was stolen time
and I was always running late, even this last time,
but I couldn't untangle myself just yet.
We lay there, not really spent, but unable to go on,
caught in the reverie.
After all these years, we still fit
like worn puzzle pieces.
All I wanted was to soak more of her in.

"You know that you are the best thing
that ever happened to me," she said with a rueful sigh,
"but I'm afraid that I was the worst thing
that ever happened to you."
she sounded so contrite. So sincere.

I thought about it for a moment.
About how grey I was before her and how she smeared
paint all over my life
in the most dazzling ways.
"That's only because I lost you."

--July 2003

listening to: Eve 6 - Girlfriend

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'one is silver and the other..?'

Since I was a child I've had a personal philosophy that demands that I be everyone's friend. And I've kept to it with just a single exception (Will).

I'm used to catching a lot of flack for this way of life, as a few of my friends have die-hard enemies that I refuse to not associate with: my reasoning being that if they're not cool with that and choose not to be my friend then they're not cool enough to be my friend.

I mean, I suppose there would be exceptions like if an acquaintance egregiously wronged my best friend, I'd probably avoid said acquaintance. But luckily my closest friends don't really have too many enemies. Or maybe that doesn't have anything to do with luck...

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'the day of *rest*'

Sundays suck. You have to suffer the consequences from Saturday night AND from not doing your homework all weekend. And sometimes you have to go to church.

Have you ever been to church so hungover that you're actually technically still drunk? It's not a pleasant experience. But then again, nothing really is when you're in that state, neh?

-----------------

btw: plastic bag handles make great earholes. just so you know.

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c o m m e n t s

'Gymnastics makes me shorter and hurt.'

Andy
0931.Monday, Sept 20. 2004

'Gravity, what?'

I highly endorse going to Gymnastics. To everyone. Even people who've never done it before. Even people who don't have the 'gymnastics body type' (read as: that of a twelve-year-old girl).

I've been going to "Open Gyms" for like a year now. I've found places in Dallas and Saint Louis that do it, so I'm pretty sure that they're everywhere. It's basically set up for adults who are curious or used to do gymnastics when they were younger. What these gyms do, see, is open their doors to the public, so to speak. For usually around $5-$10 you can go play in their foam pits, on their rings, on their trampolines (scary, I know), and their floor's (these things add a WHOLE lot of spring into your jump AND cushion your fall so you can fall on your neck and not die. Most have coaches that hang out and help you learn whatever you wanna learn.

The first night I went to one, I learned a backflip (admittedly it was into the pit or off of blocks. But I was hooked).

So like I said, I've been going to these Open Gyms a couple of times a month for almost a year now.

And now I can do shit like THIS!
thanks Darryl, for bringing your camera last week.

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'I don't quite remember'

My friend had his 21st birthday last night. I got trashed and crashed on his couch. He woke me up at 9am this morning insisting to know the details about me hooking up w/ his roommate (that lucky bastard is living with 3 hot sophmore girls). I claimed innocence until he pointed out that my shirt was inside out and I was using my undershirt as a blanket.

But nothing happened, honestly. And I'm not 'just lying because I'm sober.'

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c o m m e n t s

'This never happened. I swear.'

Jeff
0003.Sunday, Sept 12. 2004

'the honest drunk'

Why are people under the impression that being drunk makes you more honest? It irritates me to the extreme.

True: Being drunk lowers your inhibitions. But it doesn't un-crook the crooked.

I suppose if you've been wanting to tell someone off for a long time, and you're less inhibited, you might actually do it.

The only other possible explaination that I can think of is that when you're drunk you're just worse at coming up with lies on the spot. I know I am. Though I'm also worse at solving differential equations and walking straight. I also come up with clever ideas that aren't all that clever. At all. Like peeing out the window.

Of a car.

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'I'm sorry, I wasn't listening'

You know, since I've come to college, I've met and befriended a lot of FOB girls. But I had long ago come to the conclusion that I'd never date one (because of the language/cultural barrier). How can someone be your other-half if she doesn't understand you (your words or sometimes your random American actions)?

Tho my resolution hasn't changed since, it has definately been tested. Recently (late August, early July) I flew to Japan to hang out with my friends Amy and Alex. While I was there, I met several japanese girls (whose natural friendliness I liked to misinterperet into romantic interest: as it would be in 'the States' -- but knowing the culture I was nevertheless savvy of and didn't truly misinterperet).

I have to say: when someone doesn't understand your language all that well and she listens to you -- with her FULL attention, she becomes a lot more attractive.

This happens with American girls sometimes (tho sadly not often). And as a consequence I am far mor attracted to them than before I spoke to them. But usually I'm not all that attracted to them to begin with.

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