Some things have a direct link to my happy bone. Just to name a few; Michelob Golden Draft Light, Captain Morgan, and time away from school/work all jolt my dopamine levels. However, in addition to all of these, I can't seem to avoid Black Friday for the life of me. Some people collect worthwhile things that actually appraise in value. Unfortunately, I choose to collect DVDs, which depraise in quality AND technology. Although, on Black Friday, you're essentially buying them for the same price you would if you were to be renting them. So I guess that's the theory or mindset that fuels my addiction.
So, motivated by Stephen Colbert, here's my "Tip of the Hat/Wag of the Finger" Black Friday Edition. "Tip of the Hat" goes out to the Wal-mart Crew in Waseca, MN. I've simply noticed that in comparison to other Wal-marts, your store actually strategically arranges the Black Friday deals. This eliminates much of the clutter that I don't want to deal with at 5 A.M. "Wag of the Finger" goes out to Wal-mart at 59th Ave./Bell in Glendale, AZ. First, you decide to clutter all of the Promo DVDs in an area smaller than my Freshman Year Dormroom. Next, you don't even properly color-code your cardboard shelves to indicate which DVDs belong where. Third, you have your staff and other customers returning DVDs and Video Games that don't even belong in the Promo shelves. Finally, you have customers bringing their full-sized carts through these small aisles to look at DVDs. This was absolutely ridiculous. I understand if you want to guard your Black Friday "Jewels", but don't bring carts through an area where it's already difficult to find standing/viewing space. Cripes.
So, I'm sure many people have this problem: Denzel Washington Addiction. You're just strolling through the available DVDs, and you're like "What the hell is that movie?" You're like, well, I can definately pass that one up for now. And then you see him, and it hits you like a freight train. You're like, "Shit, it's got Denzel." Then your mind starts scattering. The impulse-buy gears must be turning in your head again. Then you make your uncontrolled decision to make the purchase. This happens to me every Black Friday, so I'm sure you can add Denzel to my "happy-bone activator list" mentioned above. Am I mad? No, I just got a Denzel-Movie. Life is real. I mean, how many movies with Denzel Washington can you classify as truly "bad" movies? None? Didn't think so. I couldn't name any either. With that said, now you know my Black Friday Vulnerabilities.
Changing gears. A few nights ago, I watched Dog the Bounty Hunter (Cue Cartman Singing: "I am da dawgggggg, the big bad dawgggg, da hallway monitorrrrrr"). I'm really diggin' my optometry studies so far, but how sweet would it be to live as a bounty hunter? I could take a break from school, and travel the United States looking for the biggest and baddest crooks. I mean seriously, I could do a much better job than "Dog" and Beth. They're like celebrities now. And let's be real, it's not too hard for Beth to "naturally" stand out in a crowd (Those who have seen her know my drift). Any criminal would recognize them and practice proper evasion techniques. But me, I could be inconspicuous and take 'em down.
Welp, those are my thoughts for today. Hope everyone enjoyed the holiday. Wish me luck in surviving optometry school until Christmas. Today's LotD emphasizes this push/pull relationship of graduate school.
Follow your bliss,
KJL
LotD: (Jimmy Eat World - The Middle)
"Hey, don't write yourself off yet,
It's only in your head you feel left out, or looked down on.
Just do your best, do everything you can.
And don't you worry what the bitter hearts are gonna say."
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
"There is no history of mankind, there is only an indefinite number of histories of all kinds of aspects of human life." ~ Karl Popper
Speaking of history, let's talk football. Now, you can imagine my disappointment when you recall the fact that I'm a homegrown, Minnesota lad. The Vikings haven't been all too stellar so far throughout this 2010-2011 season. Historically, the purple-people-eaters and prior rosters alike have brought four Super Bowl Appearances. In addition to this, Bud Grant had a streak of winning eleven of thirteen divisional championships during the '70s.
However, for our generation of excitement, the Minnesota Vikings have been dependent upon Dennis Green, Mike Tice, and "Chillydawg". I refer to Brad Childress by this title because he simply doesn't deserve a true referral at this point. Granted, Chillydawg has had success in prior seasons. Let the record show sequential seasonal record improvement of (6-10), (8-8), (10-6), and (12-4) from 2006-2009. However, Chilydawg loses all credibility following the moment when I was forced to watch Mike Tice strut his smirk following the Vikings loss last week. I mean, the whole Moss release was bad enough in itself, but then it's followed by losing to a team with Mike Tice on the coaching roster? Comeon, really? Mike Tice... Winning? That's like one of those math equations that simply doesn't make sense. You know, if the sum of (2+2) was equal to "5", then Mike Tice would be a good coach. But with Commodore Chillydawg, common arithmetic is even losing its grasp in this context.
So, in retrospect, I turn your attention to "Exhibit A" found below this text. Exhibit A is the representation of a perfectly sewn, authentic Reebok NFL Jersey. This image represents my feelings prior to the 2010 Minnesota Vikings Football Jersey. Notice the tremendous spacing, limited wrinkles, and independent positioning within a marvelous, walk-in closet. Things had seemed to be improving for these folks. People in the nation were actually paying attention to Minnesota Athletics.
Taking a brash transition, Chillydawg has lost all team chemistry. Ironic in a sense, considering that this was one of his main fundamentals as a coach. This leads to "Exhibit B". This image contains a trash reciprical used for eliminating solid waste. Please note that the prior unwrinkled jersey has now taken new shape in its new home following the loss to the Bears. Unfortunately, I lack the motivation to truly part ways with the purple and white, but a loss to the Pack tomorrow morning could yield new found glory. In that case, I could always turn to my favorite AFC team. Have you ever heard their catchy tune?
==========================================================
During my time off from optometry school, I've had great opportunities to finally relax in Arizona. I've spent the past week hanging out with my mother and grandparents. In these moments, I have had significant curiosity to listen into some of the stories that each of them remember while growing up. In particular, I want to briefly discuss my grandfather's story from his childhood. As long as I can truly remember, I've been aware that he was a World War II Veteran upon enlisting in the Navy shortly after enrolling at NDSU. However, as a child, I was always naive in learning the specifics. My grandfather was interested in becoming a veterinarian, but was forced to postpone his schooling. With a relatively low draft number, he decided to enlist in the U.S. Navy (Potentially yielding a service preference). Consequentially, he began his assignment in the Pacific Islands.
Follow your bliss,
KJL
LotD - (Simon & Garfunkel - Sound of Silence)
"And in the naked light I saw,
Ten thousand people, maybe more...
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share,
And no one dared,
Disturb the sound of silence..."
However, for our generation of excitement, the Minnesota Vikings have been dependent upon Dennis Green, Mike Tice, and "Chillydawg". I refer to Brad Childress by this title because he simply doesn't deserve a true referral at this point. Granted, Chillydawg has had success in prior seasons. Let the record show sequential seasonal record improvement of (6-10), (8-8), (10-6), and (12-4) from 2006-2009. However, Chilydawg loses all credibility following the moment when I was forced to watch Mike Tice strut his smirk following the Vikings loss last week. I mean, the whole Moss release was bad enough in itself, but then it's followed by losing to a team with Mike Tice on the coaching roster? Comeon, really? Mike Tice... Winning? That's like one of those math equations that simply doesn't make sense. You know, if the sum of (2+2) was equal to "5", then Mike Tice would be a good coach. But with Commodore Chillydawg, common arithmetic is even losing its grasp in this context.
So, in retrospect, I turn your attention to "Exhibit A" found below this text. Exhibit A is the representation of a perfectly sewn, authentic Reebok NFL Jersey. This image represents my feelings prior to the 2010 Minnesota Vikings Football Jersey. Notice the tremendous spacing, limited wrinkles, and independent positioning within a marvelous, walk-in closet. Things had seemed to be improving for these folks. People in the nation were actually paying attention to Minnesota Athletics.
Taking a brash transition, Chillydawg has lost all team chemistry. Ironic in a sense, considering that this was one of his main fundamentals as a coach. This leads to "Exhibit B". This image contains a trash reciprical used for eliminating solid waste. Please note that the prior unwrinkled jersey has now taken new shape in its new home following the loss to the Bears. Unfortunately, I lack the motivation to truly part ways with the purple and white, but a loss to the Pack tomorrow morning could yield new found glory. In that case, I could always turn to my favorite AFC team. Have you ever heard their catchy tune?
So, what does Karl Popper really mean with his quote? No, it's not about a bunch of finely tuned athletic machines running around in a purple, yellow, and white jersey. My frustrations may have simply gotten the best of me upon that reflection. Instead, it's a reflection upon how naive we can become as time passes, and how invaluable past events are.
During my time off from optometry school, I've had great opportunities to finally relax in Arizona. I've spent the past week hanging out with my mother and grandparents. In these moments, I have had significant curiosity to listen into some of the stories that each of them remember while growing up. In particular, I want to briefly discuss my grandfather's story from his childhood. As long as I can truly remember, I've been aware that he was a World War II Veteran upon enlisting in the Navy shortly after enrolling at NDSU. However, as a child, I was always naive in learning the specifics. My grandfather was interested in becoming a veterinarian, but was forced to postpone his schooling. With a relatively low draft number, he decided to enlist in the U.S. Navy (Potentially yielding a service preference). Consequentially, he began his assignment in the Pacific Islands.
What really gets me most is his description of Pearl Harbor in 1943. The demolished fragments scattered across the bay, specifically from the U.S.S. Arizona. Traveling across the world in an era unruled by technological advancements. In addition to these stories, I also had the opportunity to hear and discuss agricultural techniques throughout "The Great Depression." All of these priceless and invaluable stories told in detail, and I'm yet to hear and understand them all (Hopefully more to come). Instead of concentrating on these historic encounters, I'm more easily able to provide indepth analysis on the 2010 Vikings season that holds no bearing past temporary entertainment. The joke's on us.
Follow your bliss,
KJL
LotD - (Simon & Garfunkel - Sound of Silence)
"And in the naked light I saw,
Ten thousand people, maybe more...
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share,
And no one dared,
Disturb the sound of silence..."
Saturday, November 13, 2010
"He that can have patience, can have what he will..." ~ Ben Franklin
On this delightful afternoon, I want to address a personal encounter regarding respect for others. However, first things first, you may have noted "delightful" in the sentence above. That adjective is referring to the weather in Glendale, Arizona, which I find to be full of delight. While Minnesotans are welcoming freezing temperatures, we're enjoying our 70-degree weather for the rest of the week. Just a little sidenote to help you all remember what it's like outside of Minnesota :).
On Thursday, I had written about my wonderful, drunken outing in Tempe and Phoenix. Immediately before I began this excursion, it was time to get the ears lowered. So, I make my way across the AZ-Loop 101 and pull into my favorite Great Clips in the area. Now, this is where my continuous thoughts on "patience" come into play. Being it's a Great Clips, they offer one of my most valued aspects of any business. Versatility. No appointment. I just can cruise in whenever, drop the John Hancock, and usually be out shortly after. When you enter, the nice ladies stop what they're doing, quickly note your name, and give you an estimated wait time. They inform me it'll be twenty minutes, which gives me adequate time to rock the newest ESPN magazine that was sportin' the shelf. This is going fine and dandy, until the fifty-ish year old man next to me starts verbally announcing his displeasure for everyone in the waiting area to hear. So, I strategically shift myself to the opposite side of my chair, which provides the furthest distance and best chance of me not being associated with this man. At the time, it was imperative for me to indirectly and discretely show everyone that, "No, this man is definately not my father, and please, please, please don't make that assumption."
Then suddenly, the displeasure begins. After noticing that nobody was interested in responding to this man, he turns and begins his rant towards me, as if I'm going to automatically agree with him by nature. What was he arguing about you may ask? A young gentleman had the hair stylist (One of three) stop for a few pictures every once in awhile as his twin daughters were getting their haircuts. So, my verbal response was something like "Eh, hopefully they're almost done anyway." On the otherhand, my thought process was this: "You come into a Great Clips, which clearly runs on variable time intervals, and you're going to grumble about a few ten second pictures?"
Those of you who know me, know that I enjoy withholding my antagonistic viewpoints. Under the consideration that a social argument would have only made the scene worse, I kept to myself. The only clear goal I had in mind would be to inform this impatient man that his argument is invalid, but that probably wouldn't have gone over so well. So, now I resort to telling you my viewpoint of his character flaw.
Humanity is slowly losing its grasp on valuing patience within our lives. For me, those twenty minutes were invaluable to my demeanor. It was the first time I got to sit and enjoy some reading material that I actually enjoyed, rather than learning to decipher unconjugated and conjugated bile in terms of pre-hepatic, hepatic, or post-hepatic jaundice. With three different hairstylists working, chances were that one of the other stylists would finish first anyways, and therefore making his argument worthless. It's metaphorical to an unintelligent teenager who dangerously weaves in between cars with few feet to spare, only to have me catch right back up to him at the stoplight two-hundred yards ahead. He didn't gain anything. Either did this man at Great Clips, except a slight increase in his diastolic and systolic measurements.
And that's where I leave you today.
Follow your bliss,
KJL
LotD - (Quietdrive - Time After Time) [Cover for Cyndi Laupner]
"Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new"
On Thursday, I had written about my wonderful, drunken outing in Tempe and Phoenix. Immediately before I began this excursion, it was time to get the ears lowered. So, I make my way across the AZ-Loop 101 and pull into my favorite Great Clips in the area. Now, this is where my continuous thoughts on "patience" come into play. Being it's a Great Clips, they offer one of my most valued aspects of any business. Versatility. No appointment. I just can cruise in whenever, drop the John Hancock, and usually be out shortly after. When you enter, the nice ladies stop what they're doing, quickly note your name, and give you an estimated wait time. They inform me it'll be twenty minutes, which gives me adequate time to rock the newest ESPN magazine that was sportin' the shelf. This is going fine and dandy, until the fifty-ish year old man next to me starts verbally announcing his displeasure for everyone in the waiting area to hear. So, I strategically shift myself to the opposite side of my chair, which provides the furthest distance and best chance of me not being associated with this man. At the time, it was imperative for me to indirectly and discretely show everyone that, "No, this man is definately not my father, and please, please, please don't make that assumption."
Then suddenly, the displeasure begins. After noticing that nobody was interested in responding to this man, he turns and begins his rant towards me, as if I'm going to automatically agree with him by nature. What was he arguing about you may ask? A young gentleman had the hair stylist (One of three) stop for a few pictures every once in awhile as his twin daughters were getting their haircuts. So, my verbal response was something like "Eh, hopefully they're almost done anyway." On the otherhand, my thought process was this: "You come into a Great Clips, which clearly runs on variable time intervals, and you're going to grumble about a few ten second pictures?"
Those of you who know me, know that I enjoy withholding my antagonistic viewpoints. Under the consideration that a social argument would have only made the scene worse, I kept to myself. The only clear goal I had in mind would be to inform this impatient man that his argument is invalid, but that probably wouldn't have gone over so well. So, now I resort to telling you my viewpoint of his character flaw.
Humanity is slowly losing its grasp on valuing patience within our lives. For me, those twenty minutes were invaluable to my demeanor. It was the first time I got to sit and enjoy some reading material that I actually enjoyed, rather than learning to decipher unconjugated and conjugated bile in terms of pre-hepatic, hepatic, or post-hepatic jaundice. With three different hairstylists working, chances were that one of the other stylists would finish first anyways, and therefore making his argument worthless. It's metaphorical to an unintelligent teenager who dangerously weaves in between cars with few feet to spare, only to have me catch right back up to him at the stoplight two-hundred yards ahead. He didn't gain anything. Either did this man at Great Clips, except a slight increase in his diastolic and systolic measurements.
And that's where I leave you today.
Follow your bliss,
KJL
LotD - (Quietdrive - Time After Time) [Cover for Cyndi Laupner]
"Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new"
Friday, November 12, 2010
Cheers to Blogging!
As a child, I never had any interest in keeping a blog for my thoughts and life events. Eighth grade brought significant displeasure in the requirement to keep a journal. I remember trying to condemn the assignment as criminal. Not because I thought it was unfair (I thought it was a great idea), but rather that I was always jealous that my friends could successfully write about such witty and insightful topics. After seeing my dear friend Alastar Swift's new blogs, it's needless to say that not much has changed in that aspect of things (I encourage you to check out his two blogs listed in my "Blogs I'm Following" Section or via the hyperlink). All things considered, I thought the concept of blogging/journaling was created simply to personally smite me and my ineptness regarding a successful imagination.
But, I digress. Yesterday morning marked the completion of the hardest academic quarter that I've ever enrolled in. Key Word: Completion. Yes, completion, meaning that I'm still on-track for successfully becoming an optometrist. In the eyes of a fiscal conservative, it also means that I didn't have to watch my new student loan addition of $60,000 amount to nothing. And no, it's important to not get confused, and think that $60,000 is my total amount of loans. That would be too heavenly and dreamy. Instead, after the completion of my undergraduate and doctorate degrees, my "brain power/knowledge" will equate to approximately $300,000 (Plus interest) in student loans. Needless to say, there's just a little pressure in successfully making it through a professional degree.
So what do sleep-deprived, immunosuppressed dental and optometry students do immediately after completing our first set of final exams? What do any young adults do following a rigorous academic battle? We get drunk. REALLY drunk. After a few pars in "Bar-Golf", I'm starting to feel like a real shankapotomus. I started picking up positive strokes worse than John Daly on a bad day. Yes, it was THAT bad. As I full-heartedly enjoyed my significantly increased sensory stimulation and inability to keep my eyelids open to participate in conversation, I suddenly began to think back to how far I've come over the past eight years. I've went from never flying in a plane in early high-school, to traveling to Honolulu, Houston, San Antonio, Washington D.C., Madrid, Valladolid, Salamanca, Segovia, Toro, London, Berkeley/Oakland, Mazatlan, and now Glendale/Phoenix. Obviously pictures are very helpful in visually reliving these experiences, but in my drunken perplexity and mind-screwing experience, I decided that I needed to withhold my thought processes and emotions in a much more worthwhile fashion. So following a twenty minute van ride home (Perceived as two minutes in my cognitive state), two double-double burgers from "In & Out", and a morning of much needed sobriety, I give you the best thing since sliced Johnnie bread coupled with peanut butter and honey: A "Site" For Sore Eyes!!!
Pun intended of course. As Jonathan Swift once said shortly before his derangement in 1738, "The sight of you is good for sore eyes." And that's where I come in folks. Not necessarily by my personal appearance, unless you'd consider that to be true, but instead and more importantly by providing you with a "site" for your viewing pleasure. I'll be aiming to simply write on my life occurences and thought processes. In addition to that, I'll add in my infamous "Lyrics of the Day" (LotD) to each post as well. Posts may be relatively infrequent, and will be inversely proportional to my optometry schedule.
Follow your bliss,
KJL
LotD: (Boston - Peace of Mind)
"People living in competition, all I want is to have my peace of mind..."
But, I digress. Yesterday morning marked the completion of the hardest academic quarter that I've ever enrolled in. Key Word: Completion. Yes, completion, meaning that I'm still on-track for successfully becoming an optometrist. In the eyes of a fiscal conservative, it also means that I didn't have to watch my new student loan addition of $60,000 amount to nothing. And no, it's important to not get confused, and think that $60,000 is my total amount of loans. That would be too heavenly and dreamy. Instead, after the completion of my undergraduate and doctorate degrees, my "brain power/knowledge" will equate to approximately $300,000 (Plus interest) in student loans. Needless to say, there's just a little pressure in successfully making it through a professional degree.
So what do sleep-deprived, immunosuppressed dental and optometry students do immediately after completing our first set of final exams? What do any young adults do following a rigorous academic battle? We get drunk. REALLY drunk. After a few pars in "Bar-Golf", I'm starting to feel like a real shankapotomus. I started picking up positive strokes worse than John Daly on a bad day. Yes, it was THAT bad. As I full-heartedly enjoyed my significantly increased sensory stimulation and inability to keep my eyelids open to participate in conversation, I suddenly began to think back to how far I've come over the past eight years. I've went from never flying in a plane in early high-school, to traveling to Honolulu, Houston, San Antonio, Washington D.C., Madrid, Valladolid, Salamanca, Segovia, Toro, London, Berkeley/Oakland, Mazatlan, and now Glendale/Phoenix. Obviously pictures are very helpful in visually reliving these experiences, but in my drunken perplexity and mind-screwing experience, I decided that I needed to withhold my thought processes and emotions in a much more worthwhile fashion. So following a twenty minute van ride home (Perceived as two minutes in my cognitive state), two double-double burgers from "In & Out", and a morning of much needed sobriety, I give you the best thing since sliced Johnnie bread coupled with peanut butter and honey: A "Site" For Sore Eyes!!!
Pun intended of course. As Jonathan Swift once said shortly before his derangement in 1738, "The sight of you is good for sore eyes." And that's where I come in folks. Not necessarily by my personal appearance, unless you'd consider that to be true, but instead and more importantly by providing you with a "site" for your viewing pleasure. I'll be aiming to simply write on my life occurences and thought processes. In addition to that, I'll add in my infamous "Lyrics of the Day" (LotD) to each post as well. Posts may be relatively infrequent, and will be inversely proportional to my optometry schedule.
Follow your bliss,
KJL
LotD: (Boston - Peace of Mind)
"People living in competition, all I want is to have my peace of mind..."
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