Friday, February 28, 2003

Suck, Mr. Rogers died. This is half of the people that raised me, the other half being Sesame Street.

  Wednesday, February 26, 2003

Alexis cooked breakfast for a bunch of us on Monday. I knew she had some left over so I asked her what was still in the fridge and what I could take. She hinted me in on a slab of bacon hidden on the refrigerator door. Earlier tonight I went to get this bacon along with some sausage and asked Byrne if he wanted anyway, he said he already knew about the sausage, but when I flipped out the bacon and told him I was holding on to it, he got jealous.

Moments ago I saw him creeping around the second floor. From my room I asked him what he was doing, in a very confronting voice. I could hear his reply coming from inside the refrigerator. I ran into the kitchen where he was holding the bacon, he did a nice spin move to get away from me. As I chased him around the house I siezed the oppurtunity to shout out the phrase, "Come back here with my bacon!" I got it back when he tried to hand it off to someone who didn't want to play. Then we sorted out our differences over a game of Nippon Olympics.

Had my third and fourth finals out of five today. One of which was O-chem, which also decided to ream me in the pooper. I might actually not get my chemistry minor because of this. Kindinger thinks I did bad because I didn't study, but it was probably really leprechauns or something.

  Saturday, February 22, 2003

Not long ago I got back from seeing Old School with about fifty others. It was awesome. Later we played Soul Caliber in the backlounge. While bouncing around on the couch we found that the TV would occasionally turn off and that randomly the channel or volume would change. We determined that the missing remote of two months was somewhere in the couch. We tore the couch apart twice searching for it. When spectators would question us about our actions we would prove to them that the remote was in the couch by elaborately bouncing around in unison and getting the TV to do things. Despite all of this, the four of us that were frequenting the couch could not find the remote. It was disappointing, but definately made for some good humor to see us zipping around like goons.

Lately I've been daydreaming a lot about being a super hero: not a cool comic book super hero either, a video game super here like Mario or Link. I keep imagining myself falling from really high places and doing flips and crazy jumps, all in an effort to collect pellets or coins or gems so that I can enter the area where I can rescue some princess in a flamboyant pink dress. Then I got the cool idea that if the woman of my dreams ever wanted to really surprise me she would hide these crazy puzzle pieces all over some place. Then I would have to climb trees and tread through creeks and such to collect them. After the puzzle is complete it would tell me the last place to go where I would fight some dude. It wouldn't be a real fight, but we could use something made of NERF, and then after defeating them I would finally meet the princess and it would be her and it would be awesome.

  Friday, February 21, 2003

For the first time in three and a half years of college, I have finished a project at the last minute and was completely satisfied with the results. Many of you know that I have been building a Lego Ferris Wheel and programming it to start and stop and do numerous other things. The Wheel itself was built very quickly, but up until twelve hours before the project was to be demonstrated, there was no programming complete. It was supposed to be demonstrated at 9:40 AM and it was approximately 9:30 the night before when my partner, Adrian, showed up. I convinced her to go to campus where we would work in the lab until it was done. Then I mysteriously got a shower.

I don't think Adrian really wanted to go to the lab, nor did she want to stay up very late working on this project. I knew this, but I also knew that it would take longer then we were both expecting. At about midnight I told her to go home. She protested, but was easily swayed. I proceded to stay in the lab until 7:30 AM until I was completely satisfied with the project.

I also didn't want to make Adrian feel bad for me having to stay so long. So as soon as I finished I quickly made the two mile trek back to the house and managing to lie down on the couch moments before she came in to ask me how it went. Then I mumbled things to her as if I had been asleep for hours. At this point I'm feeling pretty good, up until 10 o'clock when I wake up late for a demonstration that my partner, who knows nothing about how it works, probably had to give herself. I ganked someones car and ran to the lab, then pretended I was sick to the proffessor, who then told me to calm down because everything was ok and my partner explained everything. When I found Adrian a half hour later she was more pleased then I expected. In fact, she was even more pleased then any other moment out of the last week. She said that I made everything easy to understand, which also made the proffessor happy, and she pretty much figured it all out on her own. She also mentioned that we were told we had a very thorough project, one of the best as a matter of fact.

In retrospect, this week has seen the best and worst of Roriness, from staying up for eleven hours on campus to making my friend Sonia cry about a late Materials porject. Because of this I have developed a new axiom to add to my list of clever quibbles, "I'm Rory Sant, what's your excuse?"

  Wednesday, February 19, 2003

Yesterday, I became a good bowler. Four 100+ games in a row plus being able to spin a heavy ball professional style, makes me believe this. I with numerous others went bowling last night. We expected there to be thirty or so girls there, but the fact that there were about eight, actually made it better. Three cheers for male bonding. I'm actually anxious to go out there again to see if I can duplicate my style. With the bowling ball that is, not with whatever it was I did with any of the ladies that were there.

  Monday, February 17, 2003

I began this week of hell by watching the big episode of Joe Millionare. It was good times, making fun of bitches and putting off homework.

"We surprised them with a check for One Million dollars, but that's not all we surprised them with. When they tried to cash that check, it bounced."

That was Tom's clever comment at the end of the show. Personally I wanted to see some crying, but it didn't happen. It also made me think that maybe there will be some single late twenty year olds that the early 30's version of Rory might actually enjoy meeting, but thinking about that violates my policy on not considering the future past Memorial Day of this year, so we'll just stop at that.

Penn State has gotten 18 inches of snow and they cancelled class. My stupid friends are using this time to catch up on homework. After discussing this with Steve and telling him that it was difficult to listen to him say he was too busy, he replied by telling me to deal with it. Well this is how I deal with it which I also put in away message form:

Alright bastards, listen! You have the oppurtunity of a lifetime. Never again will you have the ability to be as free spirited and playful as a child. In four months you will be graduating college. The days of disregard will be over. If you want to sit on your ass and catch up on homework, or stay warm and cozy inside go ahead. But that is not the attitude that I thought my friends have. That is not the attitude that makes kick ass softball games. Come on people... do not waste this oppurtunity. Do not look back on this day ten years from now and remembering how insignificant everything else was and think how it would have been nice just for one moment to have that feeling of good-natured, whole-hearted excitement. Please! I can't be there, but let me take solace in the fact that my friends are doing everything that I wish I could.

A little emotionally high for a snowball fight, but I can't really explain why its so important to me that my friends up there enjoy this oppurtunity. I just hope somehow they know.

  Sunday, February 16, 2003

I just got back from church. It was only the second time I have ever attended church in Indiana, but I was excited. It was a Lutheran church, and I went with Willis. Willis is Lutheran, and I was excited because he says the Lutheran church doesn't really interpret the Bible, it merely conveys the message and leaves the interpretation up to the individual.

I can't say that the actual service was all that moving, but I did notice what I think might be a cool trend that I like about Lutherans: evidently when you can't preach about what to think about something, you preach about why what other people think is wrong. Most of the sermon was a direct quote from Martin Luther about how the clergy were hypocrites, and then the back of the service guide had a list of errors in the thinking of Jehovah's Witnesses.

I probably won't be back to the church anytime soon. As I said before, I didn't too much care for the pastor. I will probably go at least one more time though, hopefully on a Sunday when attendance is a little higher. It is on my agenda however, to find a Lutheran church elsewhere, I'll check around next time I go home. I would really like to give it a fair chance.

Last night my room became everything I wanted it to be. For the first time I whipped out the card table and had five people playing Risk: The Game of Global Domination. We ate pizza, drank beers (well they drank beers), and made jokes about girls. Then, after finishing Risk, we played Trivial Pursuit: The 20th Anniversary Edition. The game was excellent, Seniors vs. Underclassmen; we kicked ass. But was the fun over after that... NO. Mr. Orlowski pulled his 8-bit Nintendo into my room and Dr. Mario was played until 3:30 AM while I played with Lego's.

What do I have from all this? No interesting stories, no amazing adventures: just contentment. Pure innocent adult contentment.

  Friday, February 14, 2003

Valentine's Night: I figure this is a great oppurtunity to get together every single guy in my fraternity and do something cool. Something so cool that everyone who is out with a girl will be jealous. After hyping this up amongst about six other fraternity members, we get the bright idea to play a prank on some of the girls that are out on dates. So then we go online to find some good pranks. I should note that most pranks sites are either a little too evil for us, or a little too rude for us. There aren't really any good natured humorous well thought out pranks; like this for instance:

"Take a shit, pick it up and shove it in your principals face. (you will get suspended)."

After being perplexed by the lack of good fun on the internet, we eventually filled our evening by watching Crossroads. Don't get me wrong, Britney Spears is not a bad Valentine's date, but it truly is pathetic to have your lack of companionship fullfilled by a moving pictures of a really skanky 'pop singer' who's acting sucks almost as bad as her music. There are some cool parts though where she dances around in her underwear.

  Thursday, February 13, 2003

I just got back from the last home Rose basketball games. It was Greek night and one of the other fraternities was having a raffle for a bunch of cool stuff like CD and DVD players. So they read off the first number, and Nat, who is sitting behind me exclaims, "Damn, I was so close." So me, who's consumed by a letter I'm writing and isn't even paying attention, pulls the ticket out of my pocket and ackwardly looks around until somebody tells me that I have the winning number. At this point I am excited, but still totally lost as far as the state of my mind goes. When I finally find the guys who are supposed to give me my DVD player, they make fun of me and told me I didn't win. When I didn't walk away they eventually went back to some box and threw me a t-shirt. A freaking t-shirt! We suspect that the other fraternity rigged the raffle and something went wrong. Oh well, I gave my t-shirt to a friend and went about my business. I should have went and pooped in thier laundry machine or something, cause that is what fraternity people do to each other.

Evidently my old roomate, Steve Aymond, has created a blog; although at the moment it is just some ranting about him not knowing how to program webpages, and his hopes about adding content to his site. I do take pride however in having a "substantial effect" in the way he thinks. Hang in there Steve, eventually you will have a fair dynamic conglomeration of musings.

Strawberry milkshakes are not to be drank like normal liquids. Especially if they're thick, cause then it will all slide down the cup at once and splatter all over your face, and you will have strawberry milkshake up your nose. Then what didn't go on your face will fall into the seat you are on, and then you will be sitting in a pool of strawberry milkshake. When you finally wipe your face off you'll get up and there will be a big strawberry milkshake spot on your ass, and it will look like you shit yourself, and you will have to sit on a radiator in the middle of the school commons for an hour, and then have to put a jacket over your rear while trying to take a nap. Then people will ask you why you have a jacket on your butt, and you'll have to tell them because I got strawberry milkshake on my ass. I mean your ass.

  Saturday, February 08, 2003

If I ever write a book I think it will be entitled Life, Love, and Leftovers: The Rory Sant Story.

In other news I think I finally got my appetite back today. I can proudly say that about 14 ounces of prime rib can now call my stomach home for the next 6 - 48 hours.

Evidently, my sense of humor has returned as well.

  Friday, February 07, 2003

Rory, I'm sorry

You should be.

I'm so, so sorry, I never thought this would happen. I just wanted to add some excitement I totally didn't think anything would happen. And I can understand if you want me to go away again.

Stop grovelling. I'm not that mad. You underestimate me my friend.

What? You're not mad, I thought that focused side of you would designate me a liability and kick me out the door.

Not quite, the focused side of me sees a challenge where there used to be a lost oppurtunity. By the way, it took me four days to see this challenge because you got to deep under my processes. For that you are gonna be leashed a little more, but I have a new job for you.

Why are you giving me a chance and not just showing me my place. I would think you would be tougher then that.

Well you gave us a sense of what we find important. I would have totally been lost if you hadn't reminded me of our rules to life.

But you never would have have had any problems in the first place.

To be honest, I still wanted our precious a little bit too. I just never let anybody know. I alone would have made the same mistakes last weekend.

So you did need me?

Yes.

And it was exciting wasn't it, made for good story?

Yes.

And wasn't it nice to not be lame for once?

Don't push your luck. I was just as lame having to deal with your whiney ass as I would have been had I not even thought anything of this. Anyway, all those exciting things you want to find in us, you aren't gonna to be doing that anymore.

I can't do anything else.

Yes you can. You are now going to find exciting things in others.

I don't like this idea.

Tough. If we are going to help people, we need to care and understand them. Plus, if I'm running the show, We don't need to excite ourselves, others will do that for us. I figure not only will this help us develop more skills, but we may actually get a social life out of this.

I still don't like it, but that's just because I don't want to do all that work.

Get ready for it bud, we are on the career path now.

  Thursday, February 06, 2003

I've been listening to Weezer constantly for about a week now.

Broken, beaten down
Can't even get around
Without an old-man cane
I fall and hit the ground
Shivering in the cold
I'm bitter and alone

I've been the picture of everything I've wanted to be for six months and now everything gets ruined because of a girl.

But when I start to feel that pull
Turns out I just pulled myself
She would never go with me

I don't have any clue what I was thinking, all I know is that it was totally unjustified.

And I do like you - you're the lucky one
No, I'm the lucky one

Lucky my ass. This is a curse, I don't want to feel this way.

'Cause everybody wants a dream
Something they can barely see
And though my heart will break
There's more that I could take
I could never let it be

So what you're saying is that no matter how much I get hurt by this, no matter how far I am from ever having my dreams, I will never accept things the way they are?

Only in dreams
We see what it means
Reach out our hands
Hold on to hers
But when we wake
It's all been erased
And so it seems
Only in dreams

Well then what do I do? I have a dream I can't get rid of and I am losing a friendship over it.

But that's just a stupid dream that I won't realize

Enough with the dream already. I can't help it, things just happen to me when she's around.

I can't help my feelings, I'll go out of my mind

That tends to happen a lot.

I'm shaking at your touch
I like you way too much
My baby, I'm afraid I'm falling for you

And that happens.

What's a matter babe are you feeling sick?
what's a matter, what's a matter, what's a matter you?
What's a matter babe, are you feeling blue?

I constantly ask her what's wrong.

But you won't talk, won't look, won't think of me

She never tells me.

How cool is that?
So I went to your room and read your diary:

Ha!

She said she's feeling lonely
And I say that's Ok
She won't be coming back 'round here, no way

That's for sure, I will be lucky to ever see her in person again.

I've come undone

I don't want to destroy your tank-top
Let's be friends and just walk away

There is nothing left of me and if I could honestly just be friends and walk away I would, I'm sorry.

Excuse the bitching
I shouldn't complain
I should have no feeling
Cause feeling is pain
As everything I need
Is denied me
And everything I want
Is taken away from me
But who do I got to blame?
Nobody but me

You know that's right. In one shape or another, I've done this all to myself.

I write these stupid words
And I love every one
Waiting there for me
Yes I do, I do

And whether she is there for me or not, I have plenty of people who are.

I want a girl who will laugh for no one else

And that's not going to happen, so why not just forget about it.

Any day now you'll call me up on the phone
Say you love me more than you ever did before

I'm sure that will be love in a friendly way, but this will all work out in the long run.

It's time I got back to the good life
It's time I got back, it's time I got back
And I don't even know how I got off the track
I wanna go back, yeah!

And I'll get there soon enough. As for all this introspective thought...

Screw this crap, I've had it!

  Wednesday, February 05, 2003

I just finished a senior project meeting. Our senior project is quite possibly the easiest one ever to exist. There is a coal power plant in Cayuga, Indiana and we were asked to purchase them a new vacuum machine to vacuum the dust the builds up in this little building that they have. However, our project advisor, Dr. Gibson, has let us astray for the better part of the quarter. He wanted us to investigate the entire process of the plant to determine how dust is created and consider whatever elaborate solutions there could be to reducing it. It wasn't until this last meeting that we determined that purchasing a vacuum is the best solution. After the meeting we got into a discussion about what off-the-wall idea our advisor could come up with. Here is what we got:

Group: Well Dr. Gibson, we have finished our decision matrix and determined that a vacuum would be the best option.
Dr. Gibson: Well, what are you going to do with the dust, can you sell that or something?
Group: Actually, they deal with millions of tons of coal, i don't think a few pounds of dust will really do anything.
Dr. Gibson: How do you know?
Group: They actually let us have some dust, so it evidently isn't that important to them.
Dr. Gibson: Really! How fine was the dust, if you don't mind me asking.
Group: No not at all. We actually got only two bags of dust, the rest was pretty solid, it had evidently been sitting there for a while and got hard.
Dr. Gibson: Now see, that's interesting! Could you make cubes like that, mabye you could sell the cubes?
Group: Like we said, there isn't that much, plus who is gonna want a cube of coal?
Dr. Gibson: Have you tried using fecal matter?
Group: Actually, we thought you might ask that, and we did. It stunk real bad and all we really got was some sort of stimulant.
Dr. Gibson: Well you know you can sell that kind of stuff. You've heard of crack whores, why not find some fecal matter infused coal whores?
Group: ???
Dr. Gibson: Yeah you can make a ton of money off of that, if you can't find any whores I got some Chinese grad students you can use.
Group: That still doesn't solve the problem of how to remove that dust.
Dr. Gibson: Oh, I've said what I think.

Dear Cinergy, We have decided that the best way to inhibit the production of coal dust in your sampling house is to mix the dust with fecal matter and either sell it to whores or exchange it with them for sex. We are going to further investigate the best fecal matter to use and the process of mixing it. You can begin to take bids. Sincerely, Group 26

Became a sucker yesterday and bought a Cap and Gown. Not yet do I know if I will participate in graduation, but I'm leaning towards it. It makes me want to analyze the changes I've made as a person between my senior years; but I'm tired of that whole introspective trip. In fact, I think I need to find a word for looking into others instead of oneself, but becoming that way is my new goal.

  Tuesday, February 04, 2003

Taking a page out of Kiefer and Alex's blogs, I've decided to post a picture from banquet:


A couple of things to note about this picture. First I am a big freaking goon; second, Carolyn takes really excellent pictures. This picture seemed like the best one, but in all the other ones where I look even more goonish, she is as cute as ever.

All in all, the entire experience of having her spend time with me and going to this banquet (minus all the emotional upheaval) was really, really awesome, and I'm really glad she came.

After being denied the abiltity to give blood two months ago because of iron defficiency, I was permitted today. I felt that somehow this was an accomplishment. I would like to give a shout out to Alex for taking me out to get steak after I was rejected last time, and a shout out to Texas Roadhouse for having damn good bread and hot manager ladies.

  Monday, February 03, 2003

I've decided I'm not a good listener. I am too quick to give advice and offer comments; I don't consider the possibility that people don't want feedback. Plus I'm too curious to just listen, I need to ask questions about things; sometimes this gets annoying. To do what I want to do with my life requires that I become a good listener, so shutting my mouth and opening my ears is on the agenda for the coming time. Hopefully it will set in.

  Sunday, February 02, 2003

What do you do when the weekend you've been hyping up since August turns out to be a blatent reminder that you are not yet capable of seperating your emotions from your actions? Well, you go to the Burn Maker and you make what you think you feel into what you really feel.

I'm sitting here with Carolyn asleep on the fucking couch. Know this, you are a fuckhead. She says that she has been having a GOOD time, but I don't believe that shit. You are a fuckhead. I don't think we are anywhere near the fucking comfort level I thought we were at, and to top that shit off, I'm still confusing our friendship with feelings I've had.

I told that shit to fuckin' come here so god-damn that she can better understand my stupid ass, but I am doubting my molested own motives. Goddamn, you are a shithole. I feel "f'ing great" for cheating that bastard and myself, and I'm coming to fuckin' grips with the fucking fact that my fucking inability to fuckin' let go of my fucking hopes will ultimately sacrifice our friendship.

I guess I could go a lot further into this, or even just explain what I am thinking the simple way, but this blog exists to tell the story of Rory, and if I go any further, I'm probably getting a little to public with someone elses business. In fact, I've probably done that already.