What a strange feeling....

Boy, it sure does feel weird to be around Ann Arbor this time of year, but only because no longer will I be continuing my journey here as a student. Living off campus should make things much easier, but working in the heart of campus only adds to the problem. I can no longer park, but there have been other aspects of the rapid move-in that more than offset such a slight inconvenience.

Firstly, it never, and I mean never, fails to amaze me how much different the student population looks the first few weeks of school. By that I mean that just about every girl I see looks fuckin' hot to me. Maybe it's pre-frosh 15...maybe it's the tans...maybe it's the revealing clothing..I just don't know. Another theory is that after a long time away from multitudes of girls (staying here in the summer leads to seeing the same girls night after night after...) it may just be like some kind of renewed culture shock, a reawakening of dormant hormones, who knows. All that matters to me is there is a lot of scenery around.

Secondly, I'm continually realizing how much not being a student actually can matter to my lifestyle here. For one, I can't just go use the rec center, I'd have to pay an obscene amount of money to join. Also, and even more sadly, I can't get student priced tickets to sporting events. Lastly, it's going to be weird telling new people I'm graduated, just because it's like I'm suddenly out of the loop somehow. I can't really explain it.

Let me make quick mention of some congratulations. My roommate Mike Shea is once again a U of M student as of today. He'll even be taking a mechanical engineering class this semester, so I will certainly be able to be of some help I think. Alright, I'll continue my regular blogging with some recaps of the past few weekends shortly, and the previosuly mentioned name dropping requests will hopefully soon be taken care of. Cya.

Back Again

I sent out a flurry of entries about 2 weeks ago as I had been without internet and wanted to keep some regularity in my blog writing, but I have once again fallen behind as I have been unexpectedly lazy/busy/unlucky when it came to finding a desk I liked and ordering a wireless internet card. In the end I found that Target and Meijer have nothing on the Office Max furniture section, as they are actually stocked with the desks they put on display, a very novel concept indeed. Getting the desk was only half the difficulty however, as it was equally as troublesome to put together. Yes, I am a mechanical engineer, and no, it wasnt really difficult, but let's just say the people from Bush's Furniture need to have some more parts assembled when you open the box to start.

Anyway, let me just say that there is a small part of me that is not so relieved to have the old computer and internet set back up. I bet for any of you reading this (because if you are reading this you probably suffer from the same condition) that you have a little problem with obsessive compulsive internet usage. Of particular interest is the AIM profile/away message. When I'm bored and have nothing to do, I tend to check both endlessly, sometimes even the same one multiple times when I'm pretty sure nothing has changed. This can even lead to checking on people I dont even know, or havent spoken to in years, who's names somehow make it on my list. The funniest thing about this psychological condition? I dont even use AIM to communicate all that often, maybe every few days...it's really just a weird obsession. I know nobody ever comments to my entires, but I'll try again by requesting anybody who shares this problem to comment and share their thoughts. Shit, I could write a book about how skewed AIM has made communication in the 21st century, but I'll spare you all.

Allright, well, I guess I've had a few semi-adventures the past week or two that I could share, so look forward to those in upcoming entries. Apparently my blog has reached enough of a following that name dropping has been requested from a few of my readers. They just better hope that I don't have bad things to say about them, because I ain't writing this to make friends ;). On a more friendly note, let me just say that a recent journal entry by former roommate Adam Cole listed me as his most influential person he knew in college. That actually kinda touches me...a little bit. It also makes me think, if I had to rank people from my college experience, how would things shake down? In all reality, I don't think any list would seem right to me, as some people that I currently hate or don't speak to would realistically make it near the top of my list. My naivety coming to college bred a lot of learn by mistake situations, so in a special tribute, let me give this one time thanks to all the bitches, whoes, sluts, cunts, twats, assholes, jerks, egomaniacs, and generally bad people who shaped me through their evil ways. Seriously, I wouldn't be half the man today without enduring some of the things I did. Chances are though, that if you're reading this, you're not part of that list; in fact, if you're actually reading this then you are likely a very positive influence in my life, so thank you on that front as well. Bye for now, all...

Farewell to a Friend

Well, the Coleminator, none other than my two time roommate Adam Cole, has moved on to greener pastures (literally) out in Ithaca, New York, where he will attend grad school for his eventual PHD at Cornell University. I must say that the experiment that was Adam and I living together did in fact work out somehow. For any of you who know both Adam and I, we seem to be about as different as can be in so many ways. I honestly believe that without these differences we probably would not have been able to make it this far.

For Adam’s farewell a few friends met up with him at his house in Sterling Heights, from which we departed for dinner and ice cream. We watched some home videos Adam had made from college, and shared some old times. I will not dare go into detail as I do not plan to say something I shouldn’t, but let me just say that Adam Cole made me proud that night. For the first time in 2 years, I think he actually may have believed that something I said had an inkling of wisdom in it. For all my fuck ups and ridiculous moments in college, I’m satisfied with the diversity of things I experienced, and what I learned from these events, and maybe, just maybe, Adam realized that living life with reckless abandonment can mean knowing what feels most normal and natural in the end. So Adam, congrats on moving on, and if you’re lucky, I just may tell you some of the funny things I’ve done that I never told you before. Why didn’t I tell Adam? If you knew him, you might understand, he can be rather parental at times, but that’s fine with me. Cya Adam.

A Little Pimp Juice

Basically, I feel like our new apartment is going to be something really nice. I can almost feel the pimp juice flowing through my veins as I bask in the glory that is my first true “own place.” True, you could argue that the house I just moved from was a potential candidate, but I will admit that I didn’t pay my own rent, nor did sharing with 9 other people lend to even a semi-singular sense (alliteration?) of ownership. The hits just keep on rolling with this place too, as our view of the pool has already given us some highlights that I would have never imagined.

So, earlier today Mike and I were watching the Olympics when Mike noticed some chicks (sorry ladies, is the term chick offensive?) and a dude heading out to the pool. The girls basically looked hot, but they were dressed as they made their way to the poolside. The dude stripped down first and Mike and I got the impression that they were quite possibly all foreign grad students…how did we know this from our apartment? The dude was wearing a speedo, if that ain’t foreign, than I don’t wanna know what is. I know watching like this is wrong, but it’s right there in our window, so we waited for the girls to show something off, and boy did we get rewarded. They dropped their shorts and no kidding, they proved they were foreign (or just very freaky), as they were sporting g-string thongs at the family oriented apartment pool. Needless to say, Mike and I were hardly upset by this development. Even more peculiar was when they started running around the pool in these thongs, eventually ending with the one girl pinning the other against a fence and dry humping her. Seriously, I have no fucking clue what was going on, they could have been doing yoga or something, but I have pictures to prove it. The one leaned against the fence as the other came up behind her and rubbed her crotch into the other girl’s essentially naked ass. Maybe they saw us looking and were putting on a show. I will likely never know. Maybe this is all the rage in Europe, Europeans are a very trendy people I’ve heard.

So anyway, the apartment is shaping up to be very nice indeed. We have our duel TV setup in the living room, not to mention Mike and I’s rooms are essentially like 2nd and third living rooms. I used the weight room at midnight tonight and it nice working out completely alone. We also ordered our set of billiard balls, so I expect to work on that activity soon enough as well. In celebration of our place Mike and I invite you all to come to our house warming party this upcoming Saturday. It will likely be an afternoon-evening affair, with swimming, drinking, and other potential activities aplenty (drinking jenga anyone?). If you read this and want more info ask me on the IM, as you likely have my name if you’re reading this. Hopefully I’ll see you all then.

Lebron’s Ride Ain’t Got Shit on Me

So, I’ll try to keep this as concise as possible. First off, let me say that I don’t really mind my job at Dollar Bill copying too much at all. They keep me busy all day, I rarely have to answer to anybody as my true boss is a box from which I grab paperwork, and having known many of these people for some time work is generally an enjoyable place to be when a deadline isn’t looming too close in my face. I hung out with my current boss Sean at the bars before I ever even started working there, but I never realized that the owner of Dollar Bill liked to treat his employees to a good time too occasionally. This is my brief tale of that night, this past Friday.

So our boss picked Shea and I up from our new apartment and drove us down to Dexter for their summer festival “Dexter Daze.” We stopped by at the owner Mike’s house and I quickly realized that Mike is a rich rich man. This is hard for some to believe, but his house was like a zoo-graveyard hybrid. Mike has been to Africa to hunt 12 times, and sitting around in his house (literally piling up on tables and in corners and in spare bedrooms) are the trophies of countless animals Mike has killed in his many journeys. Included were the full or partial remains of (I’m not exaggerating) a giraffe, cougar, hyena, elephant, zebra, buffalo, monkey, alligator, crocodile, caribou, swordfish, hammerhead shark, and many others I will not even try to remember. It was a little strange, but very cool, to say the least.

Anyway, we piled into Mike’s Hummer (and I don’t mean H2 like they advertise on TV, I’m talking like this thing could go into service in Iraq tomorrow) and drove to Hick-ass Dexter (I know, like I’m one to talk with Lyons and Adrian on my resume). Basically we all got drunk and shot the shit. Eventually we drove back to Mike’s place and got even more drunk. Somehow in our drunkenness Mike gave the keys to the Hummer to Shea and I let us loose on the streets of his little rich-house community. Let me say, the widetrack Grand Prix has nothing on the shear width of this beast. I know, drinking and driving is bad, but we literally never made it more than 1000 feet away. While not as fulfilling as receiving a hummer, driving one is pretty exciting to a drunk kid. I think the most amazing part had to be that he even gave us the keys to begin with, but what did he know? He was drunk too.

While ultimately just a silly and retarded night of drinking in an Ann Arbor suburb (yeah, I know, there really isn’t such a thing), I doubt I’ll ever forget the stuffed giraffe or the feeling of hitting the gas in a vehicle that belonged to my boss I barely know and is probably worth more than my life. It was fun, it was weird, and it was memorable.

What Happened to Scott?

I haven’t been on the internet for quite some time, therefore it has been rather difficult for me to keep this blog updated lately. As is always the case when I sit down to write on this damn thing, I cannot for the life of me decide what to mention in my entries as I do not wish to rant and rave for too long. A quandary of equal concern is my dreaded fear of the online journal, in which I may actually cross the line of becoming emotionally involved with my computer screen (and eventually with every person that compulsively checks away messages while searching for a way to quell the boredom). The problem with this blog is that its very existence has coincided with a time of my life in which change runs rampant, but I am chained by my earlier claims of non-diary content…

It’s weird isn’t it, the desire that we all have to share a part of our lives with others, sometimes even those we don’t know? In fact, telling a perfect stranger our deep dark secrets can be the most exhilarating and liberating experience of all. However, allowing those closest to us an extra insight into our lives can at times be downright scary. Despite the ease in which I could get things off of my shoulders on this blog, I will continue to travel the high road in an effort to not step in any of the puddles that form at blogger’s competitor livejournal.com.

Now that I have already surpassed my rant allowance for this entry, let me say that I will make multiple entries at once here to save everybody’s eyes from reading too long on a computer screen. Please enjoy.

Disappointment, USA

To say the very least, the performance of the USA National Basketball team has been quite the disappoint to me and many Americans. While at work we always listen to Jim Rome on the radio, and his analysis of why they're bad is completely opposite of what's actually happening. First off, he keeps claiming that they dont want to share the ball, apparently he hasnt actually watched the games, where the USA has mainly struggled because it plays the game like an All-Star game where everybody tries to make the extra pass and the pretty play when the actual advantage this team should bring is their ability to go one on one and take it to those foreign bastards. Although I will always support my boy Lebron over Melo, I do have to say that Melo has been one of the most effective players on the court because he does something that the other guys dont seem interested in doing - he shoots the fucking ball!

This is one of the reasons that I think that Larry Brown is actually the wrong kind of coach for this kind of team. If he were coaching a bunch of veterans like he thought he was going to, he'd be a great person to walk the sideline, but as it is his "play the game the right way" bullshit doesn't do a lot of good when you're coaching a bunch of 20 year olds...they've had success their whole lives taking over the game, and that's exactly what they need to do in these international games. Screw passing the ball around and trying to find holes in the zones (which all the international teams will play against), put some fucking pressure on the other team and draw some fouls, cause I'm sorry to say that there is just no way we can assume we'll get the ball down to Tim Duncan every time.

Secondly, Rome's been harping on them for not playing any D. Try and play some defense when the guy your guarding is shooting threes from 20 feet out, it's a little more difficult. For any of you out there that don't know the international line is only 20'6, while the NBA line is 23'9. Quite a difference. You may be saying, 'well that should be our advantage then,' but it just doesnt work that way. Threes from this distance are like free throws for these foreign guys. Actually, think of it like this, say you shot 100 free throws a day from 15 feet, then played a court where you had to shoot from 14 feet - sure, it'd be shorter, but those thousands of shots from 15 feet wouldnt help you out to much. This is the problem the NBA players face - they just dont have any need to shoot from this distance in an NBA game, it just about never comes up, 90% of shots are 15 feet and in or behind the 3-pt line. To complicate matters this short line has allowed the foreigners to field teams where every man on the court can comfortably shoot from this distance, putting all those Carlos Boozers and the like in a tough position defensively. Basically, I think it might be time for the USA to change their style in picking the team (AKA, ask Redd to play, not Emeka Okafor, who cares how big we are? Okafor never sees the floor anyway).

The only solace I can find in all this is the secure knowledge that had all the players played that said they would originally, these last few games would have been 30 point blowouts. People find it hard to believe, but there really is that much difference between player 12 and player 24 in the NBA, a huge difference. We get caught up in statistics and dont see a huge advantage, but it always exists. For instance, many players can score as much as Tracy McGrady for a given period of time or number of games, but the difference is that the only thing stopping him is himself. Same for Kobe Bryant, there is simply no way to deny them their shot attempts, they're just too good. Lebron James will be there in a year or two also, but he simply isnt right now. Also, you put a KG out there, and he'll absolutely shut down any player on those foreign teams, from the shooting gaurd to the centers.

Anyway, I think by the time the real Olympics start this team will be better. Will they win Gold? I couldnt tell you. Will they get scared a lot by inferior teams? Most definately.