Semester

My first semester at Mizzou is almost over. Wow.

When you're living, time flies. Taking life one moment at a time turns into one hour at a time, one day at a time and so on. The weird thing it hardly seems like an accomplishment. Shit gets done, and I move on to something else.

I've met people and not talked to them again. I've clung to others. I've found several people to be distasteful. I've probably hurt someone, and likewise been hurt by others.

Man, so much happened since mid-August. When I think of time's passing, I get a little sad because I often wonder what I could have done better. How could I have acted differently? There are endless answers to such questions. Rather than dwell on them, I think I'll go to bed.

Hope

Everybody needs something to get them through life. For some, it's a higher power, an afterlife or a reward for leading a good life.

For others, it's just being here and living. I suppose I fall into the latter category. And, I suppose, some people cling to hope everyday. I can't say I do that. In fact, hope's been elusive to me. I never quite feel it or understand it.

But today's been different. Hope abounds for me. For the most part, it's hope to gain something that will make me happy. That's a tad superficial and selfish, I know, but it's a start.

Here's to hope.

Jackasses

During this week, I've talked to several guy friends and acquaintances about women. Seeing as most of my buddies are like me (basic psychology proves humans like those who are like them), we did not disparage women. We don't believe in generalizations.

We did find, however, that we knew a) jackass guys with incredible girlfriends and b) incredible women with jackass boyfriends.

Those relationships always baffle me. The guy treats his girlfriend like dirt, and she stays with him.

Well, I think I figured out this paradoxical interaction. I'll attempt to put into words.

The man neglects his woman. He fails to give her the attention he deserves. Habitually, he fails to appreciate what she has to offer. Meanwhile, she tells him about his shortcomings, and she longs for his attention. His failure to satisfy her and her desire to be satisfied creates a tension, a drama. The relationship hinges on this tension. On a rare occasion, the man will execute some superficial act of appreciation (e.g. buy flowers, go on one fancy date). His attention lacks genuineness, effort and passion. But this sliver of attention is enough for the woman to stay and hope for more appreciation. Repeat.

I welcome any other theories or observations about asshole men who have fantastic women wrapped around their finger.

After the pain

I find that after the immediate shock of pain -- be it a breakup, death or any other shit occurrence that hurts -- the following hours turn into a blur.

I can't tell if what I do after the pain strikes is something I enjoy or disliked. I get an overwhelming sense of indifference. My mind gets wrapped up in thoughts of the past or the future. Pain interferes with my ability to live in the moment. It sucks.

When I get hurt, I get confused. Maybe it's because I'm amazed at the impact humans have on one another. Or perhaps my confusion stems from denial, when I hope that the shit occurrence never occurred, and somebody's about to wake me up from a dream gone sour.

Or maybe I get confused because I just fucking hurt and I want it to stop.

Hold on, ladybug

Already, this post falls short of what it could be, but that's no big deal. I say that because it lacks an awesome photo.

About 10 days ago, I walked to my bike, which was locked up near Tate Hall. I noticed a little orange dot on my seat. To recognize the speck as a ladybug, I had to push my face right next to where I usually put my ass. Unsettling thought.

The sun had warmed the black cloth on the seat, and the ladybug loved it. I didn't want her to go, so I put my finger in front of her. She obliged.

Then, I set her down on my handlebars. Those had to be just as warm, since they're black metal. I unlocked my bike and away we went.

From 9th and University onward, I watched the ladybug rest on my handlebars. She walked around a little, just to explore or shift to the warmest spot. I anticipated getting home, grabbing my camera and getting a macro photo of the little bugger.

But once we got to 9th and Broadway, she opened her wings and flew away. I watched her fly against the blue backdrop on a cloudless day.

Then I thought, I got used by a ladybug. She just wanted a ride to the main strip.

Oh well. It was fun.

Speechless

In one of my journalism courses, our professor was lecturing about this survey, conducted in the U.S. to see how people feel about the press and the First Amendment.

Our professor showed us some questions from the survey on a her PowerPoint during the lecture. One question was actually a statement that people were asked to agree or disagree with, strongly or mildly.

The statement concerned the media's role as a watchdog on government and how important that was to ensuring democracy.

A female student raised her hand. Our professor called on her. (Note: I did not write down the exact exchange, but below is an accurate gist of it.)

"I think this survey is flawed," she said. "The questions need to be changed."
"Why do you think that?" our professor asked.
"Well, this statement talks about democracy, but in 10 years, we won't have that. Our country is turning socialist. So how can they ask about democracy?"

All I wanted to do was scream What the fuck did you just say? I could not hold still. I wanted to get up and leave the class. My jaw started to burn. It was an odd sensation, stemming from pure outrage. I didn't know what to say. Then I realized, neither did our professor.

She kind of looked up at the PowerPoint, then back at the socialist-fearing student. Finally, I think she said something like, "Well, wouldn't this statement apply even without democracy?"

The student talked herself into a corner while the class buzzed a little bit. People were confused as to how she could say something without any backing. I continued to fidget in my seat. I muttered, "What's happening to the people in this class?"

A girl in front of me looked over her shoulder and said, "I don't know." We exchanged a smile of disbelief in what we just heard.

Now, I wasn't upset with the assertion that we're turning socialist, or that the inquiring student suggested that the Obama administration is socialist. But I know the administration is not. So, my anger was rooted -- not in support for Obama -- but in the student's belief in a fallacy.

Besides, if the U.S. turned socialist, it really would be the best country in the world.

If only ... if only.

Watching list

On my eBay "watching" list are two parts for my bike project. Since I've saved the money up to buy them, however, it's nearing holiday season. Therefore, I feel it is improper to buy said parts.

At the same time, I don't want these parts as gifts because I want to call the bike mine -- and really mean it.

Regardless, the wheels and bike chain are waiting for me to click "Buy it Now."

Also, I've chosen to keep the bottom bracket on the Sprint and take off an outside chainring. This keeps me from investing too much money in the project.