An odd combonation of muscle relaxers and video games has really made me cranky at the particular moment. This is definitely not good.
How in hell do you tell someone politely that you're too crabby to talk on the phone? Lordy.
I've got two weeks left in this grand experiment called "Freshman year," and it's really getting to me. A lot of stress is piling up on me, and right now mankind is not something I want to deal with. I really oughta just go to bed, perhaps?
The end of a school year has never been good to me, but add in the role of me trying to maintain relationships here and at home, and get ready to leave and finish final projects....you get the picture. I'm normally not one to buckle under pressure, but I really think it's getting to me.
I know immediately I'm getting the phone calls of "are you okay?" and "Do you need my help?"
Truth is...no. I've made it through before. I'll make it through again. What will not kill me will make me strong.
I'm 19 now. I've been ovwer, and soon...I'm going to be twenty. I know it's not even a third of your life gone by, but things are speeding up more and more. Life is getting more hectic, and this is only the beginning. Once I get a slightly more legitimate job (i.e. a career instead of summers at the zoo) I'll be in knee deep.
I'm losing sleep. I'm getting insanely crabby. Lord oh lord, am I ever looking forward to summer.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Registration (OR: Things to do in MMT when you're dead)
So I awoke a little less than an hour ago, and am now in the middle of the Mass Media and Technology Hall's computer lab because of what?
Registration.
This is my day to register, as I am part of the last group of current students to do so (bloody system) and I wanna beat the rush. Only I have no computer. Sure, I could probably wait till 7 or even 8 a.m., but why not suffer a little? So trudge I did, for I needed a spot in French 101.
That's how bad the lack of spots in Spanish classes is. I'm taking French, for Chrissake. Now I'm never gonna hear the end of it from my family. (I also just learned that the automatic spellchecker recognizes "chrissake" but not "spellchecker." Neat-o.)
Busy day, busy weekend ahead. Later today, I have a study board "thing" at 10, a speech at 11:30, packing, eating and a flight to catch down in Nashville at 7:30, which I need to check in for online still.
And the prom is tomorrow. After I get my new license. Yay driving, yay lines. [Read that second "yay" as "fuck"]. Also yay bumpin' grind music woooooo. [Good story, Ray!]
And this is where you, the reader, snap back and say, "sit down and shut up, Sparky. I do worse every day."
Yeah, you do. That doesn't mean I have to like what I'm doing.
Now it,s time for the incredible adventures of...
YUPPIEBOY!
If the following does not scream pretentious liberal arts snob...
What does?
What the hell have I become?! And the awful truth is...
IT GETS WORSE.
Now I'm hungry. A bit of a dilemma considering breakfast doesn't happen for another hour and a half. Bleh.
Registration.
This is my day to register, as I am part of the last group of current students to do so (bloody system) and I wanna beat the rush. Only I have no computer. Sure, I could probably wait till 7 or even 8 a.m., but why not suffer a little? So trudge I did, for I needed a spot in French 101.
That's how bad the lack of spots in Spanish classes is. I'm taking French, for Chrissake. Now I'm never gonna hear the end of it from my family. (I also just learned that the automatic spellchecker recognizes "chrissake" but not "spellchecker." Neat-o.)
Busy day, busy weekend ahead. Later today, I have a study board "thing" at 10, a speech at 11:30, packing, eating and a flight to catch down in Nashville at 7:30, which I need to check in for online still.
And the prom is tomorrow. After I get my new license. Yay driving, yay lines. [Read that second "yay" as "fuck"]. Also yay bumpin' grind music woooooo. [Good story, Ray!]
And this is where you, the reader, snap back and say, "sit down and shut up, Sparky. I do worse every day."
Yeah, you do. That doesn't mean I have to like what I'm doing.
Now it,s time for the incredible adventures of...
YUPPIEBOY!
If the following does not scream pretentious liberal arts snob...
What does?
What the hell have I become?! And the awful truth is...
IT GETS WORSE.
Now I'm hungry. A bit of a dilemma considering breakfast doesn't happen for another hour and a half. Bleh.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Body Count (OR: Another sad story)
For the second time this year, a student has died on campus.
It was another freshman male, a guy named Jaron Kormelink. To be honest, I don't recognize the name. I never met him, at least not that I know of. He lived on the opposite side of my building, Keen Hall, where his body was discovered by a service attendant. By all accounts, he had hanged himself as much as three days prior, which I've not heard any verification of. Authorites were called in, and the investigation is underway.
This being the second incident of its kind this year, there is plenty of talk of "what's going wrong?" all around campus. The truth is, this is not too unusual. It happens at schools all across the nation, and most of them have the plan to handle it. The fact is that the vast majority of students in dorms are in their late teens and early twenties. Many have never has a legitimate taste of the real world, and when they get to this scary new life, they aren't capable of handling the pressure.
It's similar to what I said after Dylan Prott's death. (Prott fell to his death after falling out his window in Pearce-Ford Tower, tripping on mushrooms). These things are unfortunately inevitable. There's not nearly as much we can do about as we'd like. Simply, we must learn to deal with them as they happen and do our best to prevent the circumstances from claiming yet another young life.
It was another freshman male, a guy named Jaron Kormelink. To be honest, I don't recognize the name. I never met him, at least not that I know of. He lived on the opposite side of my building, Keen Hall, where his body was discovered by a service attendant. By all accounts, he had hanged himself as much as three days prior, which I've not heard any verification of. Authorites were called in, and the investigation is underway.
This being the second incident of its kind this year, there is plenty of talk of "what's going wrong?" all around campus. The truth is, this is not too unusual. It happens at schools all across the nation, and most of them have the plan to handle it. The fact is that the vast majority of students in dorms are in their late teens and early twenties. Many have never has a legitimate taste of the real world, and when they get to this scary new life, they aren't capable of handling the pressure.
It's similar to what I said after Dylan Prott's death. (Prott fell to his death after falling out his window in Pearce-Ford Tower, tripping on mushrooms). These things are unfortunately inevitable. There's not nearly as much we can do about as we'd like. Simply, we must learn to deal with them as they happen and do our best to prevent the circumstances from claiming yet another young life.
Monday, April 23, 2007
The Dark Side (OR: The magic of Thund...oh, dammit)
Bippity boppity BOOM!
Despite the lame headlines that preceded it, I thoroughly enjoyed my very first Thunder over Louisville. For those you in Columbus, it is comparable to Red, White & Boom! with a few things Boom does not have:
1) More fireworks
2) Tolerable weather (April in Kentucky beats July in Ohio, whether you like it or not)
3) A bridge
Adding to this was my brief experience with what I shall call..."The Dark Side."
The title of this blog stems not from the capital of Ireland, but the capital of...prep? I'm not sure what it is, but Dublin, Ohio, stands for a few things I tend to despise, such as arrogance and....uh, stuck-uppery...sounds good. The point is that they use their wealth and social standing to their utmost advantage, and rarely miss an opportunity to rub it in our faces. This applies mostly to the Coffman variety of Dublinite, as I know a good number of great people from Dublin Scioto High School. (Jerome? They don't count yet.)
This all is relevant because, well, I sorta got a taste of that life Saturday. I'm not saying my family is poor. We enjoy a fine life, and I have no qualms about it. But I'm talking about that little extra. I'm talking about spending a day on the balcony of an apartment in the Galt House one of Louisville's finest hotels.
It pretty much went like this: Rachel's mom is friends with a very successful oncologist. This lady, being an oncologist, makes lots of money. People who make lots of money get to rent apartments in the Galt House for Thunder. We got the wristband and went up to the 12 th floor, right over I-64 and the Ohio River. Admittedly, there was part of the building to the right, but to the left, we had the river, and on the other side, Indiana stretched on forever.
We're talking free food and free alcohol, but of course, that was only for legal adults. There was also the result of free alcohol later in the evening, but for their sakes, I won't name any names. And by my fifth whiskey and Coke, names didn't matter much, anyway.
I don't think I've consumed so much fried chicken and drank so many free drinks in my life (I'm actually talking about the non-alcoholic kind, mostly). And it struck me...so this is what's it's like. It's not about the most expensive things in the world, it's simply getting out of the crowd. We watched what we could underneath us, but most was covered by the interstate. A few of us ventured down, to find Mrs. Koontz an authentic corn dog (if there is one thing that most hotels can't do properly, it's carnival food) but we managed only a half-ass attempt at checking a few stands between the hotel, the Great Lawn and back.
So will I be able to wade through the crowds and Red, White and Boom! this year? Absolutely. That's part of the experience. We still had the drunken street encounters (one girl on Second Street explained, "We gotta get to Breckenridge!) and there was still the long, long, wait to get out of traffic. After all, no festival is truly complete without the hour-plus line to get out a parking lot.
All in all, it was a good time, and the four people I was with made it all even better. And I know that afternoon was an exception, and I'm definitely not expecting anytime soon.
But dammit, that was good chicken.
Despite the lame headlines that preceded it, I thoroughly enjoyed my very first Thunder over Louisville. For those you in Columbus, it is comparable to Red, White & Boom! with a few things Boom does not have:
1) More fireworks
2) Tolerable weather (April in Kentucky beats July in Ohio, whether you like it or not)
3) A bridge
Adding to this was my brief experience with what I shall call..."The Dark Side."
The title of this blog stems not from the capital of Ireland, but the capital of...prep? I'm not sure what it is, but Dublin, Ohio, stands for a few things I tend to despise, such as arrogance and....uh, stuck-uppery...sounds good. The point is that they use their wealth and social standing to their utmost advantage, and rarely miss an opportunity to rub it in our faces. This applies mostly to the Coffman variety of Dublinite, as I know a good number of great people from Dublin Scioto High School. (Jerome? They don't count yet.)
This all is relevant because, well, I sorta got a taste of that life Saturday. I'm not saying my family is poor. We enjoy a fine life, and I have no qualms about it. But I'm talking about that little extra. I'm talking about spending a day on the balcony of an apartment in the Galt House one of Louisville's finest hotels.
It pretty much went like this: Rachel's mom is friends with a very successful oncologist. This lady, being an oncologist, makes lots of money. People who make lots of money get to rent apartments in the Galt House for Thunder. We got the wristband and went up to the 12 th floor, right over I-64 and the Ohio River. Admittedly, there was part of the building to the right, but to the left, we had the river, and on the other side, Indiana stretched on forever.
We're talking free food and free alcohol, but of course, that was only for legal adults. There was also the result of free alcohol later in the evening, but for their sakes, I won't name any names. And by my fifth whiskey and Coke, names didn't matter much, anyway.
I don't think I've consumed so much fried chicken and drank so many free drinks in my life (I'm actually talking about the non-alcoholic kind, mostly). And it struck me...so this is what's it's like. It's not about the most expensive things in the world, it's simply getting out of the crowd. We watched what we could underneath us, but most was covered by the interstate. A few of us ventured down, to find Mrs. Koontz an authentic corn dog (if there is one thing that most hotels can't do properly, it's carnival food) but we managed only a half-ass attempt at checking a few stands between the hotel, the Great Lawn and back.
So will I be able to wade through the crowds and Red, White and Boom! this year? Absolutely. That's part of the experience. We still had the drunken street encounters (one girl on Second Street explained, "We gotta get to Breckenridge!) and there was still the long, long, wait to get out of traffic. After all, no festival is truly complete without the hour-plus line to get out a parking lot.
All in all, it was a good time, and the four people I was with made it all even better. And I know that afternoon was an exception, and I'm definitely not expecting anytime soon.
But dammit, that was good chicken.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Dean Dean Kahler (OR: I might as well dress the part)
Today mark my first really big interview since Dave Stewart. Never mind it took me a good two weeks to finally nail down some time. It got done and now I can go about no failing Public Affairs Reporting. Not failing is always a good thing.
I got Dean Kahler, the Dean of Admissions, to sit down for a few minutes so I could actually ask a few questions. This was just enough, though I'll admit I could've asked a few more. The only problem was that he didn't have the information I was hoping he'd have.
As is usual in these situations, I got myself gussied up, and borrowed an iron to do so. Ever try to iron a shirt on a half-size ironing board...on your own bed? THAT is the kind of thing college does to you. Never mind the whole education thing; half of your education comes from living in a college dorm room. This teaches you how to utilize space and resources to the max. Your bed is everything....sleeping quarters, couch, study pad, and even a dinner table, if your desk isn't usable. And to think I'll have even less space in PFT next year. Oh god.
Anyway, I definitely look like a yuppie. God, I pull this look off. Too well.
I took a shower last night, and one this morning to obliterate my cowlick - not that it worked. And never mind that I forgot to shave.
In something completely off-topic, there has been a shit-ton (pronounced "shihton", emphasis on the second syllable) of high school kids all over campus. At first, I wanted to impress these kids, not for my sake, but for the university. Yes, I'm still a dork like that. But now, they are a plague, taking up valuable eatin' space in the food court. And they have apparently never used a soda fountain before, as they take forever. (Yes, a soda fountain. That's the only time I call it soda. It's POP dammit!) God, when they start infes...er, living in Schneider Hall next year...
So at this point, I'm all dressed up and I have nothing to do. Sounds like time for lunch.
Hoorah.
I got Dean Kahler, the Dean of Admissions, to sit down for a few minutes so I could actually ask a few questions. This was just enough, though I'll admit I could've asked a few more. The only problem was that he didn't have the information I was hoping he'd have.
As is usual in these situations, I got myself gussied up, and borrowed an iron to do so. Ever try to iron a shirt on a half-size ironing board...on your own bed? THAT is the kind of thing college does to you. Never mind the whole education thing; half of your education comes from living in a college dorm room. This teaches you how to utilize space and resources to the max. Your bed is everything....sleeping quarters, couch, study pad, and even a dinner table, if your desk isn't usable. And to think I'll have even less space in PFT next year. Oh god.
Anyway, I definitely look like a yuppie. God, I pull this look off. Too well.
I took a shower last night, and one this morning to obliterate my cowlick - not that it worked. And never mind that I forgot to shave.
In something completely off-topic, there has been a shit-ton (pronounced "shihton", emphasis on the second syllable) of high school kids all over campus. At first, I wanted to impress these kids, not for my sake, but for the university. Yes, I'm still a dork like that. But now, they are a plague, taking up valuable eatin' space in the food court. And they have apparently never used a soda fountain before, as they take forever. (Yes, a soda fountain. That's the only time I call it soda. It's POP dammit!) God, when they start infes...er, living in Schneider Hall next year...
So at this point, I'm all dressed up and I have nothing to do. Sounds like time for lunch.
Hoorah.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Me (OR: Obligatory 'What the hell's going on here' post)
Ray Lockman is a strange child.
That's the first thing you need to know. I am not quite what most people consider normal. I'm a fairly simple guy, and I have a few passions. But I guess "quirky" would be a good way to describe me ("quirky" here meaning "what in the hell is wrong with that boy?").
I am not the complete prototypical yuppie child, but I'm damn close. Born and raised in the suburbs of Columbus (a city much like myself - secretly liberal, but insisting on moderation), now attending a moderately large public university (albeit in Kentucky). And to top it all off, I'm a Journalism major.
Ding!
I enjoy many things, despise a few, and I generally tolerate the stuff in between. I'm the man or boy or male or whatever you call me that I am, and I try to live my own life. I have my failures and weaknesses, as much as we all do or more, and I do my fair share of self-destruction. (Hoorah vodka!)
I'm a proud Lutheran being educated in the start of Baptist territory. Actually, one of my professors describes Southern Kentucky and Tennessee as "the buckle of the Bible Belt." I do believe that makes Northern Alabama and Georgia the sweaty crotch. Anyone who's spent a summer there wouldn't argue with that.
Western Kentucky University is my current home, and I'm content here. It's a good six-hour drive between here and home, but I manage to survive. The occasional visit home is always a fun time, unless I have trouble with Greyhound. Fuck Greyhound.
Western is a neat little school; we're smack dab in the middle of a huge change in the profile of the school from regional to national. Like a lot of out-of-state kids, I'm here for the Journalism program. We are considered a bit a scourge to the locals. A scourge that thinks better of itself than any stuck up it's own ass scourge should, but a scourge nonetheless.
When I'm at home and they're in session, I am also a part-time student of The Ohio State University ("part-time" here meaning I mooch meal swipes and do everything but go to classes.).
More or less, that's a start to me. Of course, if that's all there was to myself...even I'd hate to read this. That's why I'm saving the tasty tidbits for whenever I come up with 'em.
That's the first thing you need to know. I am not quite what most people consider normal. I'm a fairly simple guy, and I have a few passions. But I guess "quirky" would be a good way to describe me ("quirky" here meaning "what in the hell is wrong with that boy?").
I am not the complete prototypical yuppie child, but I'm damn close. Born and raised in the suburbs of Columbus (a city much like myself - secretly liberal, but insisting on moderation), now attending a moderately large public university (albeit in Kentucky). And to top it all off, I'm a Journalism major.
Ding!
I enjoy many things, despise a few, and I generally tolerate the stuff in between. I'm the man or boy or male or whatever you call me that I am, and I try to live my own life. I have my failures and weaknesses, as much as we all do or more, and I do my fair share of self-destruction. (Hoorah vodka!)
I'm a proud Lutheran being educated in the start of Baptist territory. Actually, one of my professors describes Southern Kentucky and Tennessee as "the buckle of the Bible Belt." I do believe that makes Northern Alabama and Georgia the sweaty crotch. Anyone who's spent a summer there wouldn't argue with that.
Western Kentucky University is my current home, and I'm content here. It's a good six-hour drive between here and home, but I manage to survive. The occasional visit home is always a fun time, unless I have trouble with Greyhound. Fuck Greyhound.
Western is a neat little school; we're smack dab in the middle of a huge change in the profile of the school from regional to national. Like a lot of out-of-state kids, I'm here for the Journalism program. We are considered a bit a scourge to the locals. A scourge that thinks better of itself than any stuck up it's own ass scourge should, but a scourge nonetheless.
When I'm at home and they're in session, I am also a part-time student of The Ohio State University ("part-time" here meaning I mooch meal swipes and do everything but go to classes.).
More or less, that's a start to me. Of course, if that's all there was to myself...even I'd hate to read this. That's why I'm saving the tasty tidbits for whenever I come up with 'em.
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