Pictures From My iPod (Part 2)

Pictures from my iPod (Part 1)

Holidays and Time Machines

I really want to find a cheap (like, free-cheap) piano to put in my room. But I'm lazy and my car is small so I don't want to go get it from somewhere, I just want it to appear suddenly in my room like a time machine roaring back from its latest adventure to the time when some city you've never heard of was scraped off the face of the earth into the deepest parts of the sea.

The fact that we don't have a time machine made yet only tells me that the future is so much brighter than the past.

I have a room of my own in my house. But it's messy because I don't have anything cool to put in it. I just have junk to put in it and no matter how you look at junk it's still going to be junk. So it's arranged in a fashion befitting of junk. The traditional heap.

Time machines are going to be reverse engineered from a time machine that comes home from the future. Only, we haven't yet made it to any point in history truly worth coming home from. That's my theory, anyway.

But I'm looking forward to Christmas and Thanksgiving and the spectrum of holiday that falls between them. Maybe I'll get a piano. Or a time machine.

If I had the time machine I think I would want to go back and watch myself experience Christmas in my earliest years. I was blessed with a family that celebrates Christmas for what it is. So my face may not have shone quite as bright as other kids' may have on Christmas morning and our tree may have been a little more plastic than most trees and our boxes may have been a bit more scarce. But our Christmas was, and is, holy. And the days ahead are as bright as the days behind. Can I be thankful for that this year?

My Christmas List (A Rough Draft)

I realize that it is still early November (not as early as it was yesterday, though) and a Christmas list this early might be frowned upon by some people.

But I say "Hey, naysayers! Whatever a 25-year-old child and his computer do on a blog that nobody visits is his own business."

Ok. 

By the way, how did all you naysayers find this blog anyway? It has yet to be unveiled to the general public.

Disclaimer: Everything I write on this list is true though not everything is practical. I know that. And I don't expect anyone to get me anything I just want you all to know the types of things I really want for Christmas (notice the resounding lack of 'calendar' and things like 'shirts that were on clearance' or 'pieces of plastic fruit').

I really like the idea of having cool bookends. You all know how much I love my books but I do not own (nor have I ever owned) bookends. Also, I really like the old classical libraries where they have busts of famous old people above shelves. It actually used to be the way libraries organized books before some genius said "Y'all never heard of numbers b'fore?" I don't know where people would go about finding cool busts of Athena (probably shouldn't google that) but if there was some zombie-apocalypsed library out there with busts lying about grab one for me, will ya?

Also, Michael Lugo got a home-made panda bear with a guitar and I'm still waiting for a fox playing a ukulele or a banjo or something like that. If I could make them myself I would. Just sayin'.

I also like corndogs and cool drawings or paintings made by people who are 'not good at drawing'.

A cool puppet like the ones they have on Wombatron.

A theremin. I could honestly rule the world if I had a theremin and everyone else fell over dead leaving me keys to their valuables.

I really want a water softener because I'm--how should I say--a wimp. A delicate wimp.

And a key to the library. Like, a key to all the libraries.

Looking Forward

I have a CSET this Saturday. Hopefully it will be my last one. I tried to take four in one day the first time (which everyone advised against). Of course, as fate would have it, I passed every part of every section of every sub-test except for the last essay on the last section of the last sub-test.

Because the universe is a cruel, cruel mistress.

I don't believe in fate. And I know the 'universe' is not in control of anything. I just like calling her a cruel mistress.


It's difficult to look forward to things when there's so much in the way. Like, it'll be fun to be a teacher eventually but all these tests and classes and exams and observations and homework and forms and everything are really dragging me down.

Maybe I should have majored in philosophy or art so I could just starve to death for the rest of my life instead of becoming a teacher. Nah, starving sounds even less fun. Because I'm hungry.

I'm really looking forward to the winter. I have a feeling we'll actually get some wintery weather this year (O! How I've missed thee!). It should be fun. Let me know what you're looking forward to in the comments below.

Also, I need a Winter Movie list so if you have any suggestions let me know in the comments. And remind me to make a post about movies for next time so you don't end up reading all about the musings of a California credential candidate. Dang. Elections are coming up, too. Why did I waste my time writing about CSETs? Oh yeah. Because the universe is a cruel, cruel mistress.

This Crazy Dream I Had

Of all the crazy dreams I've had for some reason I can't shake the one of my playing piano in Time Square.

Also, I thought this might be a good time to start experimenting with YouTube channels and videos.

I heart NY

A Letter to My Shirt

Dear shirt,

I know it has been a while since we've talked and I'm sorry about that. To be honest, I really miss having you around. I look at old pictures from time to time and see us turning heads and looking awesome together. The hardest part for me is knowing that it wouldn't take much to be back in that place again.

You have a stain.

I know you know that but I can see that it's hard for you to admit it. It doesn't have to be like this. I bought you for a reason. When you are in the condition that you were made to be in--when you're clean and presentable--you are effective and we work well together. But when you've got that gross stain across your front there's not much I can do with you. The stain makes you hardly effective as a shirt at all.

Sure, I could wear you under a sweater and let the collar pop out the top and people might recognize how awesome we look together again but that is not what I bought you for. That's not why I kept you. That's not what you were made for. You were made and bought and washed and kept to make me look good and I can't help but think about your condition. It's keeping you from your only purpose.

It wouldn't be difficult. Sure, you'd have to give up that stain. And why would you keep it? It has ruined you and as long as it remains you remain ineffective. Let me wash you and scrub the spots off. I already have the detergent. There is no stain I cannot get rid of. Please.

Sincerely,

Joel

Confessions (part 1)

1. When I'm really excited about something and anticipating what's going to happen next (like when someone is telling a really intriguing story that I know is going to end with something hilarious) I hang my mouth open in expectation and involuntarily make seagull noises. I hardly ever notice it but people catch me and make fun of me for it.

2. I like books. Like, a lot. When I was little and I misbehaved (probably only once or twice... probably) my mom would spank me and send me to my room and tell me I couldn't look at any books. The 'no books' part was the worst. I was probably the only boy in the history of childhood who had copies of The Bernstein Bears hidden under his mattress.

3. I think the ultimate job would be a traveling food critic. I mean, c'mon, getting paid to travel to awesome places eating food and then writing about it? Sign me up.

4. I would be the worst food critic in the world. A typical article of mine would be something like: "To put my overall satisfaction of this dish into perspective I would say it was somewhere between re-heated Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and Jack-In-The-Box tacos. Also, the stain from the marinara sauce came out of my T-shirt quite easily so no worries there."

5. Some of my favorite possessions: my T-shirts, my books, and my ukulele. Well, that's pretty much all I own anyway.

6. A lot of my dreams are about shortcuts between places. Like when I used to live in San Jose I used to dream a lot that there was some secret orchard that I could enter on the San Jose side and end up in Hilmar. Of course, Hilmar isn't exactly where I wanted to be but it was closer. I guess my dreams are just too realistic. A couple nights ago I dreamed there was a bus-boat (I didn't care that those don't exist) that would pick me up and sail-motor around a corner and I'd be in New York City. I blame Morning Guy for most of my crazy space-time continuum dreams.

7. When I'm sitting down I usually can convince myself that I can do Kung Fu. It's only when I stand up that I realize gravity is a lot heavier than it used to be.

8. I watch more educational videos on YouTube than anyone else you know.

9. I actively try to remember as much as possible.

10. I hate filling out electronic paperwork. Most of things I think I should write in the spaces provided turns out to be wrong. And then when they leave you with no option but the little pull-down menus the thing I'm looking for is never there. And it kills me when I fill it all out and then submit it only to have it be sent back with a message telling me to fix one of the boxes and EVERYTHING ELSE is erased and I have to do it All. Over. Again.

Creation v. Innovation

Does it require more talent to create or to take what is created and innovate?

Or are innovation and creativity different types of talent?

Is the success of a band based on talent or marketing?

I think that last one is pretty dang obvious.

Is it worth it to destroy something in order to create/innovate?

Young Wrikis

The Adventures of Morning Guy (Episode One)

It has become apparent that I have some sort of diminished multiple-personality disorder. I really think we all do. You know, like, you act way different in the morning than you do at lunch time. And by the time things start to wrap up at the end of the day you start acting like you're a much wiser person even though all you did was survive another day.

Anyway, I've realized that my 'Morning Guy' personality (by the way, I don't really think I have a mental disorder; it's just a hook to get you reading this far. Go ahead and hang up the phone, there's no need to call a psychologist or anything) is by far the most entertaining. I mean, he's the type of guy who if you let him pick where we're eating and which movie we're seeing he'd say something like "Man, I really just want a giant box of saltine crackers and some gummy bears. And instead of movies wouldn't it be great if we just tried to see how long we can hold our breath?" The guy's a moron.

Morning Guy typically checks in as soon as night guy brushes his teeth and decides he will be making no more important decisions for the day. This is usually around eleven o'clock. Morning guy sticks around until I've showered, brushed my teeth, and at least looked for something to eat. If one of those things doesn't happen Morning Guy kind of hangs out during the other shifts and tries to help Daytime Guy do complex reasoning but usually comes up with ideas that even Star Trek writers would consider ridiculous. The only time Morning Guy and Evening Guy ever meet is when Evening Guy is done and he holds the door open for Morning Guy (who lives across the street--in a moving van--from wherever the control panel to my thought process is). Morning Guy always says something friendly yet stupid to Evening Guy as he walks in; something like "How's it hangin'" or "What's the good word, brotha?" To this day Evening Guy has never acknowledged Morning Guy's presence. He considers Morning Guy scum and wonders if Morning Guy will ever get his hair cut and find a real job.

Morning Guy doesn't like haircuts.

When I woke up today Morning Guy was flipping random switches in my head and trying to sing all three harmony parts to ABBA's "Mamma Mia!" He kept going on about how we should make a YouTube channel about literature and how everyone in the world would love it and we'd make a ton of money (somehow). In fact, he left a note about it for Daytime Guy but, as always, Daytime Guy read it once and used it to wrap up his gum in before cleaning up the mess Morning Guy made.

Daytime Guy doesn't like Morning Guy very much either. But at least he's nice about it.

Dang. Evening Guy started this blog post but somewhere along the way Morning Guy has hijacked it and made it all about him.

Oh well. Maybe Daytime Guy will fix it tomorrow.

The English Teachers' Bill of Rights

Let's be honest, people, English teachers are elite members of society. As such they should possess certain privileges:

Article I. We should be allowed to spell "privileges" however the heck we want.

Article II. Each English teacher is allowed to never read a specific author of his or her own choosing. (I'll go first: Jane Austen)

Article III. English teachers should get a discounted rate on their late fees at the local library. (My late fees over the past several years is greater than most developing countries' GDP)

Article IV. We should be allowed to wear top hats. (I like top hats.)

Article V. We should get free top hats with our diploma.

Article VI. People talking to us need not alter their vocabulary once they find out we're English teachers. Seriously, I don't care if you say "ain't". (Also, people tend to make more grammatical mistakes when they're trying not to than they do when they just speak naturally. Just sayin'.)

Article VII. There should be some sort of broadcasting system to other English teachers for those times we make a really funny pun or literary allusion that no one in our immediate company recognizes. (Seriously, folks, if you all read more Vonnegut you'd think I was the funniest guy in the world.)

Article VIII. We should have keys to the local library. (Really? You're closed EVERY Friday?)

Article IX. English teachers should be allowed to reach through the space-time continuum for the sole purpose of slapping whoever is responsible for the instructions that come with most imported electronic devices. (Engrish.com)

Article X. If someone inadvertently says something that is proper usage of an interesting literary trope we should be allowed to shout it out. (Example: "Do you see what I'm saying?" "CATACHRESIS!"


If you can think of any others feel free to leave them as Amendments in the comments below.

What Can I Say?

There are 26 letters in English. But letters become words. And words come together and express ideas. Ideas are immortal. Words express ideas that make people understand something in a new way. Words can make your knees melt. They can make you furious. They can motivate you. Words can convince you that you can do something you've never dreamed of trying before. They can make you feel invincible.

Words have founded religions. They have stopped wars. Words have established countries. They have broken families. They have sentenced innocent fathers to death. Words have inspired revolutions and have brought curses upon nations. Words have made more money than any other commodity in the universe.

How many thoughts that I think on a daily basis are the result of words spoken to me? How much of my identity is based on the fact that somewhere two thousand years ago wrote something down? How much of my past and future are based on words I said or questions I asked or things I should have said but didn't?

26 letters. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

This post was originally supposed to be about innovation (and I was going to post the video I promised the Larsons) but I think I like the way it turned out. So I'll save the other one for later.

It's All Their Fault

Of all the different types of bugs in the world I think the one that would be scariest if it was 100 times bigger is a dragonfly. Especially if it could sting people.

Spiders aren't bugs.

I think poker and dancing are two essential skills for boys and girls to learn.

I wish I lived somewhere where it rained 75% of the time.

After all my years of higher education in English I still don't know if the above sentence needs to have 'where' in it.

Water is usually my favorite thing to drink.

Sometimes I order something other than water in a restaurant even when I really want water.

If I was rich I still wouldn't buy expensive cars.

Bees and wasps don't count because they're already scary enough.

Ticks would also be scary. And mosquitos. Pretty much anything that could suck your blood.

I really like monsters and the old-school horror flicks.

If I was a monster I'd want to be a werewolf.

I have never read Twilight and I never will but I hate it for what it did to the next generation's understanding of vampires and werewolves.

Vampires don't sparkle. They are hideous monsters. Watch Nosferatu.

I wonder if bats would still eat bugs if the bugs were 100 times bigger. How would bats survive?

I don't think bats are designed to eat plankton.

I wonder if I ever eat plankton inadvertently when I swim at the beach.

What if when I get really old and my teeth all rot out of my skull the vogue thing to do is to get baleen dentures.

I blame Environmentalists for baleen dentures.

Eating Cupcakes the Way God Intended

Alright, I'm sure you think you know how to eat a cupcake but you're probably over-thinking it. None of this break it in half and make an Oreo out of it (just eat an Oreo, why don't you?) and no more, please, of this ridiculous trend of licking all the frosting off and throwing the rest away. What are you, six?

When you grab a cupcake it's usually because you're hungry enough to eat it. Now, let's get a few ground rules straight. First, the frosting will always be the best part of the cuppedcake. If the frosting is not the best part you either have a great stump (or pumpkin, depending on what you want to call the baked portion of the treat; I prefer 'pumpkin') or you have some rotten frosting. Second, the wrapper is no longer edible. When you graduated first grade you were forever banned from the following three things: (1) wetting your pants without being embarrassed, (2) threatening a friend by claiming you will not invite him to your birthday party, and (3) eating the wrapper of a cupcake.

So, here we go.

1. Take the wrapper off (don't throw it away yet, it's a perfectly good plate for your miniature cake).
2. Break the pumpkin (the stump, the cake, the baked part) in half (usually a nice twist-and-pull motion works best but I've seen the tear successful by some truly talented cupcake eaters).
3. Alright (by the way, you need milk; these are baked goods after all) eat the bottom portion of your pumpkin with a nice slosh of milk. Imagine it's a soft cookie or maybe a muffin if you're into that type of thing. (The break should be strategically placed with two things in mind: (1) you want to maximize the experience of eating the top half but minimize the experience of eating nothing but the stump, also (2) you're going to want to make sure whatever of the top half is still left is going to fit in your mouth easy enough so you don't look like a Burmese python trying to swallow an entire water buffalo.)
4. Shake off the fact that you just ate stump without frosting.
5. Prepare your stomach and gullet for the perfect ratio of stump to frosting.
6. Make sure everyone (or no one) is looking.
7. Cram the rest of that baked goodness into your face. If you find that you cannot breathe just accept the fact that you will die doing what you love: Eating cupcakes the way God intended.