Steve, Stop Blithering About Milk

For it is good for you, and quite tasty besides. I have an expert's opinion on the subject, and that overrules your milk-is-bad tomfoolery. Yes, I could respond in the replies section, but I feel that this was entirely necessary. If for no other reason, then so that I could use the word "tomfoolery" in a sentence and have it mean something.

Took a test today. It was about grammar. Fortunately, I know how to grammar quite well. I can spell nearly flawlessly, too. It's one of the biggest advantages I have going into a writing-based profession. Read over this blog sometime and try to find spelling errors. No doubt there are some, but not many. And I don't use spell-check, either. Not here, anyway.

How did I attain this? Online games. It started with StarCraft, where a friendly individual named...oh, what was his online name...Evangelion, as I recall, shamed me by typing correctly compared to my un-capitalized, un-punctuated, poorly spelled claptrap. This would be, oh, eight or nine years ago, I think. StarCraft was still relatively new back then. I resolved immediately to improve my typing skills. This was not easy in a game like StarCraft, where twitch movement is pretty much mandatory for playing tournament-level. Happily, I mostly avoided playing at tournament-level, or in fact playing the main game at all. I preferred the user-created quirky mods known as "Use Map Settings," where anything from any given Lord of the Rings battlefield to the D-Day invasion of Normandy could be faithfully represented in StarCraft form. Ah, memories.

I kept practicing, but World of WarCraft really brought me into my own, as far as accuracy goes, as well as speed. In WoW, you can freely misspell (one word that always, always looks wrong to me) and people will generally understand you, but type slowly at your peril. Unless you're fast enough on the keyboard, one of two things happens.

1. You don't communicate the necessary information to your teammates, such as "Oh, look, it's a bear," and your group crumples due to a fuzzy surprise attack.
2. You communicate precisely. However, while you were communicating precisely, your teammates all fell in battle because you weren't there to support them, and you get eaten by the aforesaid bear.

So speed is treasured. By this time, I had accuracy down, and the game helped me master speed. Between the two, I can type at 80 words per minute and get all the words right as I'm doing so. This blog has also offered me extraordinary practice in this regard. So, all's well. One less thing I need to worry about in my already horrendously difficult Writing for Mass Communication class.

Today I had an interview. As some know, I am applying for a position to be a deejay at the Gainesville-based radio station Rock 104. I'm not strictly going into telecommunications, it's true, but there are several things to consider. I need experience, any experience, and this'll be good to put on the ol' resume. Plus, at the rate I've been burning through my funds recently, I'll need the extra cash around the place.

Anyway, the interview went okay. Not great, but okay. The guy, a Mr. Guscott, gave me a piece to read of the sort that I might normally read on the air. While I was there, I honestly believed I wasn't doing too badly, but now that I look back on it, I realize what a piss-poor job I did. At first, I read it like a laundry list, then I went to a Sotheby's auctioneer. When that failed, in my nervousness I divided every sentence in my mind into three parts and dropped needlessly wide verbal punctuation between those parts, some of which stretched on so long Mr. Guscott thought I had just up and died between words. Then I developed other problems.

But he was charitable. I've really had no experience in the field, after all, and he was willing to take a chance, he said. I realize what the problem is, really. I'm trying to read these lines with the same dramatic weight that I use in my theater class, carefully enunciating (I've been told it's a weak point of mine), and this is obviously not the style to use for a rock music station. So I'll go over the sample script he gave me about five thousand times and listen obsessively to the station to figure out exactly how I should be speaking, then impress him when we meet on Thursday by reciting it in the correct style and from memory. Unless I get nervous and screw it up again. In which case, I might as well just flee in shame right then and there.

After the verbal practice, he started naming rock bands, fairly well-known rock bands, to see how well I knew the field. He would name a band, and I would have to name either a song, an album title, or the lead singer. He named seven:

Red Hot Chili Peppers - I brought up "Around the World" and was complimented on an unusual choice. Maybe he expected "Californication"?
Pearl Jam - I was stymied. I know the name, but not the band.
Foo Fighters - I was so desperate, I almost said "Kung Fu Fighting?" But I imagine that wouldn't have gone over well, and didn't respond. Things weren't looking good.
Nirvana - I know "Smells Like Team Spirit," but only because of the Weird Al parody "Smells Like Nirvana." In retrospect, I should kick myself for not immediately thinking of Kurt Cobain. Even I know his name.
Metallica - I brought up "One" and "The Black Album." He seemed pleased when I mentioned that I had four Metallica albums on my mp3 player.
Guns 'n' Roses - I know no songs by them, by title anyway, but I could correctly place the lead singer as Axl Rose. Weird name.
Pink Floyd - The first thing that popped to mind was "The Wall," but only because my sister made me watch it one time and I still can't manage to expunge the memories from my brain. He went ahead and gave me credit for "Another Brick in the Wall."

So, five of seven. Maybe four and a half. Not bad, better than I'd done in the speaking portion. Mr. Guscott mentioned that I would probably have to stay at least during part of the summer, and I responded that the first part would be much more ideal for me. So I might be staying in Gainesville an extra month or so, I don't know exactly. While I'm here, I might as well take some courses, try and play catch-up. Though I can't commit at this point, I don't even know if I've got the job yet.

He gave me a packet of information and told me to see him on Thursday so we could tour the station. I see this as good news, and an opportunity for advancement. But at the same time, I see it as completely aggravating, as it displaces an earlier appointment.

Here's the thing. I've been trying to sign up for this case study on procrastination for some time. Like the old joke, I kept putting it off, but eventually last week I emailed the girl in charge and she sent me a list of possible meeting times. They were all taken. So I asked for a different time, say, Thursday morning. She agreed.

Then I got the appointment from Mr. Guscott. His earliest slot was Thursday morning. I accepted unthinkingly, and cursed myself when I realized the problem. So I emailed the girl back and asked to push it to next week. She said sure, Tuesday morning would be fine.

Then I went and completely forgot about my appointment with Mr. Guscott, and missed it. Apologizing profusely, I went to him on Friday, but he seemed okay about and penciled me in for his only free time early next week (you can see where this is headed) - Tuesday morning.

So, once more, I emailed the girl and asked to push it back yet again. Thursday morning, we decided, would be the final and immutable meeting date. And I just remembered a few hours ago that that was the time that I agreed to meet Mr. Guscott at the radio station so we could go over the next phase of my interview process. I really don't know what to do. I could push back my meeting date again, or simply tell Mr. Guscott that of course I'm sorry but I completely forgot I had a prior appointment...could we do it on Friday? I'll figure something out. I'll talk to him tomorrow.

And I have a four to five page paper due on Friday. I don't know when I'll do it. I'll be busy a lot next few days. Meh, I'll figure it out.

I spend too much money. I went to the mall today and spent nearly $100, not including the money that Mom and Dad agreed to give me to pay for my new shoes. The worst part was that $60 of that went to buying this silly little buff-and-trim nail kit that I'm never going to use and don't have a good person to give to. (Worse than that...I bought two. It was a bargain. That's what I kept telling myself. This guy was a good salesman.) So, I figure I'll give Kait one, to apologize for not calling her often enough, and...er...I don't know exactly what I'll do with the other one. I am frankly puzzled. I'm not going to shine up my own nails, certainly.

I decided, quite randomly, that I was going to fast all today. I haven't had anything all day except a little water. The annoying part is that I'm not hungry in the slightest. I just have this vague feeling that I should eat something, more mental than physical. This irks me.

As for the Luke-Approved YouTube Link of the Day, it's not exactly YouTube, but it is quite amusing. Apparently, Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and Conan O'Brien have been feuding over who "created" Mike Huckabee. Things escalated, and eventually it came to this: http://www.nbc.com/Late_Night_with_Conan_O'Brien/video/index.shtml#mea=213670 [EDIT: You'll have to copy and paste this manually into your browser. The hyperlink is screwing up for some reason.] Very funny.

REPLIES.

Steve: You'll see me when you see me. That is to say, I'm too lazy to take a picture. I'm FAR too lazy to sharpen my katana, and I'm only using it for display purposes (at home) anyway. I wanted a cool wooden catapult. I figured out how to fix my Steam games - I had the resolution set too high, it was choppy. I once again enjoy Team Fortress 2 and recently beat Half-Life: Episode 2. Great game. Awesome final sequence, sad ending.

Thirty-two days.

Jake: So? It's close to a month away, and anyway I figure a fighting game isn't that terrible to spoil in the first place. Yes, Gay-Man-Watch is back. As far as I know, the only characters they cut were Dr. Mario (I can hear Dan scream "Noooooo..."), Roy, Pichu, and Young Link, but they sent in Toon Link, so it's not really a cut.

Steve: Indeed.

Mom: I've started drinking skim milk already, forsaking whole entirely. That's good enough for me, but not good enough for Mr. I'll-Just-Write-A-Doctoral-Thesis-On-It Steven Nebb.

Steve: I sense more BS. And: quiet, you. I'll drink what I like. If milk were bad for me, I would have keeled over when I was younger. Ask my mother.

Peace.