Scorching Back

Out of curiosity, I decided to read up on my last blog entry. Where was I in my life the last time I got down with this whole gig? Turns out it was a quick recap of that day's filming of The Last Request, complete with pictures of Dan in his now iconic Cop costume. That was in August of 2009, over two whole years ago! And God, how long before that were we actually posting on a regular basis? It seemed like this weblog's battle with the cancer that was Ian William Xavior Gillies lasted for an eternity, before finally succumbing to his devious design.

Point being, a lot has happened since the days of The Last Request. There's been a failed movie about a lamp salesman, a failed movie about cardboard people and a librarian, a failed movie rip-off of Majora's Mask, a failed movie about a guy in a coma, a successful movie about a girl in a coma, The Time Machine, a failed movie about a love quadrangle between Donglondos, Inglondos, Serdos, and Lisa, etc., etc., Laddera/Windwoka, etc., etc., Clyde Widdleston, etc. OH, and we also have a script for our most ambitious movie ever, The Last Request 2: One Final Request, but a certain SOMEONE who plays the second most important character ever had to move to Washington, DC! To make matters even worse, we can't even use the Onion Studios name anymore. What a joke!

On a more individual level, I finished my junior and senior years at Villanova as a math major, and now I'm doing a one-year education program, still at Villanova, so very soon I will be able to teach your children about numbers, functions, and derivatives, oh my! It's weird, though, the way I transitioned into my life as a grad student. I graduated in the middle of May, and the first class for my grad program started the last day of May. I had become so familiar with the campus, contextualized by a certain group of people that I became very comfortable with, and then suddenly, upon my return, it was empty, quiet, ravaged by construction. It definitely wasn't the same place where I was living just two weeks prior. It was as if a crazed Doctor had snatched up all its happy inhabitants, leaving the once-peaceful community in a deathly silence, or as if an inexplicable explosion had grossly deformed a once beautiful place and made it quite dangerous to traverse, with stalactites falling from the ceiling and dragons crying blood from their eyes and breathing fire on you.

You get the idea.

Well, summer has come and gone, and the people have returned to campus. And now we're halfway through the fall semester. Here I am, on a typical Tuesday afternoon, sitting in the library, wasting away time between my one class that ends at noon and my other class that starts at 5. Oh, and that's another detail I've neglected to mention. The time between classes wouldn't be an issue before, but now I'm living at home in good-old Langhorne, and I drive forty minutes down the turnpike to school each day, so I can't just go home and come back. Now, I can't claim to have known Steve Jobs, but goodness, bless that man, because without my iPod, I probably would've gone crazy by now. Wondering what's coming next on my shuffle during my morning commute always keeps me interested. Will it be The Decemberists? David Wise? Koji Kondo? The Chili Peppers? Michael Giacchino? Vanitas Mori? Yasunori Mitsuda? The excitement always builds!

But I digress. What does this all have to do with food? On Monday and Wednesday, when I have only one class, I go back home and eat there, where the food is always delicious. But on Tuesdays, my hands are handcuffed, and I'm not nearly as talented or cocky as Clyde. I can go to one of the fine dining establishments on campus, which I have done on a number of Tuesdays. But, as you may or may not know from my blog posts of yesteryear, those have a tendency of leaving much to be desired. Another option is to take the 15-20 minute drive to the King of Prussia mall, and eat from its food court, which I did a couple of weeks ago. The Chic-Fil-A was quite delicious, but I wasn't sure if it was worth getting back in my car for that long. I mean, that's wasting time in my car that I could be spending pretending to do work in the library!

So today, I decided to go to one of my favorite spots as an undergraduate: Campus Corner. Ah, the memories come flooding in! I got the legendary "Daily Special," consisting of two oversized slices of cheese pizza, a side of french fries, and a soft drink. I don't know, maybe it doesn't really live up to the legend. When you're stranded on a college campus with very limited options for the better part of four years, something that's "okay" to "kind of good" can be overblown to "great" and "super!" But such are the benefits of being without a car, without having instant access to whatever you want. It's those little moments of joy, the ones that you don't take for granted, that truly last in your consciousness, even if those moments are firmly embedded in the past. Whether it's eating at a dumpy pizza joint with some pals, or making a movie about a detective playing chess in a damp basement with a taped-together camera, THAT, my friends, is life.

I still need to figure out what to eat on Tuesdays, though!

Filming Under Pressure

With the deadline quickly approaching, Team Silent Parade marched straight into the unknown, with only bleak hope in its members' minds and ominous sorrow in their hearts. And yet, enthusiasm returned in style. Enter COP.


And Robert Moss is a great American author. Check him out!

Dawn of the Second Day (Day 2 Filming)

It seemed as if everyone was in higher spirits on the second day, even with a few hurdles to clear!

Slurpee Time!

These summer times tend to produce the illusion where the days and weeks seem to blend together. In May and most of June, there was no Constant. It didn't matter what day it was because I had nothing to do on any of those days. When I started volunteering, the merging of days subsided slightly, but since it's only one day a week, I'm still not even close to completely aware.

So it wasn't until BFD sat in the passenger's seat of my car and opened his mouth did I learn that today was none other than July 7, 7/11. AKA Free Slurpee Day. Even with the overcast skies, I could feel the light of Dole shining brightly in my face.

Today was Bill Crossland's birthday party. I told my Mom right before I left that it was a birthday party, and she yelled at me for not getting him anything. Oops. I guess I didn't even think of that. Ah, but Dole had a plan. When we entered the 7-11 right next to Bill's house to get our free slurpees, BFD and I came across a "large" card selection. Meaning, it was a large card. Get it? But the opened card was only slightly smaller than the size of my windshield. Unfortunately, there was only one Jumbo Card there, and it featured a couple of bears hugging each other on a hill, and the text said something about eternal love. But whatever, we got it anyway, and Dan decided to get a sharpie to customize the card to our own liking.

The bears became Mr. and Mrs. Crossland, with the former prominently featured with his chainsaw. Infant Bill is resting in his cradle, with his bear parents ignoring him completely. It was a fascinating depiction by the artistic BFD. And of course, we very lazily scratched out the text and replaced it with some birthday talk. My personal favorite part of this whole jumbo card business was the gigantic envelope that accompanied it. Dan needed to direct the recipient with his useful sharpie to the side with the opening flap, because without direction, a simple man would be lost for hours scouring that the massive white landscape for a way inside.

And of course, it was the best card Bill ever got. As for the party itself, Dan, Ian, and I spent most of our time discussing the intricacies of the Assenchip mythology and timeline, while attempting to map it out on the back of a cardboard party plate.

Ian eventually left, and a little while later, BFD and I decided it was time to continue/begin our Slurpee quest. We went all over the world to 7-11's from every corner, just for free slurpees. We went to Langhorne, and then Newtown, and then two different locations in Levittown. At Newtown, we parked in the handicapped spot because I'm handicapped. Makes sense, no? So as we're pulling out, some crotchety old hag glared at Dan and I. This confused both of us. Is this woman insane? And then as she walked next to the passenger seat window, she pointed in the direction of our parking spot. Yes, yes that is a parking spot. But BFD, sharp as a tack, quickly realized that this woman is accusing us of innapropriately occupying a handicapped spot, and that she wanted that spot for herself. If only I had known what she was trying to say. I would've made her feel like a complete ass. I hate it when old people pretend that they're handicapped. No, you're old, not handicapped. I'm actually physically impaired, you dumb bitch.

But anyway, somewhere in between Newtown and Levittown, we picked up our good friend Nick Gillies, who attempted to illustrate the idiocy of going around all over the place to get tiny cups of slurpee when you could very easily spend a dollar at one location to get a full sized slurpee. I guess he doesn't understand the allure of free stuff. And plus, the joke's on him, because he dropped his gallon of milk and it exploded all over the final 7-11's parking lot. It cannot be denied, though, that he did purchase a carton of milk for his mother.

And then somehow, Ian appeared as if from nowhere in that final parking lot, and we said, "Hey, let's go to the diner!" And that was that.

Breakfast (?): Bacon and eggs (my brother was home from DC, so my Dad made him some breakfast. Whatevs.)

Lunch: I had some chips and ranch dressing at Bill's party.

Dinner: Cheesesteaks.

Other: Lots of slurpees. And a milkshake at the diner.

(Insert lots of pictures).

Try On This Pair of Shoes

For as long as I've had laptops, I've always been confronted with the question as to how to transport it from room to room or area to area. You see, when I walk, I need my hand waving around to help my balance. That means I can't hold my laptop to my chest if I'm carrying it because then it's likely I would fall over backwards. So that means I often must dangle it with one hand to the side, which presents its own set of questions. How can I stop it from slipping from my hand? I have learned to get better grips on the laptop, but they certainly are not sufficient for long (relative) distances. And you can throw all of that out the window when I'm going up stairs because I need both my hands in order to climb each step.

So a few days ago, I grabbed my trusty old backpack that I've used since early high school, and I brought it down to my laptop station in the living room. Now, whenever I transport my laptop, I can just put it in there, sling it over my shoulder, and go wherever I want. Now mind you, this isn't really that innovative an idea in the least, using a backpack to carry things instead of using your hands, but for some reason it's taken me this long to think of it. And there's your semi-annual insight into the mind of a certified handicapped citizen.

And I have nothing more to say at this time.

Lunch:
Pizza. My sister had an End-of-School bash at our house, and we ordered six pies. Yum.

Dinner:
French Onion Soup. Followed by a healthy dose of D&D.

The Hunt

Last I posted, I lamented that it was all going by too quickly. Case in point, I last posted over a month ago, and I didn't even realize it had been that long. So I've decided to fill you in on what I've been up to during my first month of summer, underscored with a focus on one aspect in particular: finding a job.

It all started when my mother was driving me back home from Villanova on the morning after my last final. She commented, "Hey Erik, there's this great tutoring place right next to Clemens where you can get a job." I wanted no part in it at the moment, though. I was ready to take a week or two off before even thinking about getting a job. But I did store that in the back of my brain.

Then one day the next week, I get a letter from this place called Vector Marketing, advertising great summer work with flexible hours and hefty pay. Interestingly enough, they really didn't say what the job would entail. I thougt to myself as I perused the letter, fresh off of watching the season finale of Lost, "Maybe THIS is destiny." I didn't call them right away, though, because I had no desire to commit to anything yet. But maybe the next week, I called them one morning with the intention of discovering what kind of job this was. The first thing I specifically asked to the young lady on the other line was, "What kind of job is this?"

"Well, it isn't telemarketing," she replied in her peppy tone, "and it isn't door-to-door sales." That's nice, I thought to myself, but you didn't answer my question. At this point, I had all but lost interest in acquiring this job, whatever it was. I don't want to deal with a bunch of sketches. But then she started asking me questions. "Would you say you're a people person?"

Without any intention of telling her what she wants to hear, I reply, "I guess. Sometimes."
After peppering me with more questions of that breed, she tried to set up an interview with me. "How's 6 o'clock tonight?"

"Oh my," I replied, ready to lie, "that just won't work for me. I have plans for this evening." (I didn't).

"I'll call back on Monday then," she said, enthused, "when I have my interview times for this upcoming week."

I hang up the phone and then forget about it. There's no way she's going to call back, I think. I definitely came off as unenthused about this mystery job. But then Monday rolled around. I get a call in the morning, from the same cheery girl, asking me when I wanted to set up an interview. Without even thinking about how uninterested I am in the prospect, I reluctantly agree to an interview in the afternoon. I hang up the phone and ask myself immediately, "Why didn't I just say no?"

I showered, put on a nice collared shirt, and came back downstairs. I absolutely don't want to do this. It doesn't feel right. But why not? It then strikes me that I could Google "Vector Marketing" and find out what the hell they're all about. It turns out they look for college students to go into people's houses and try to sell them Cutco knives. I laugh. I call back and confidently cancel the interview. That feels good.

After this saga, my mother had suggested applying at Sesame Place. They're always hiring, she says. A week or two later, when we're driving back from applying for new passports, my mom suggests that we stop at Sesame Place and get an application. I reluctantly agree. It's wierd like that. I would like to actually do something this summer, but I have zero motivation to deal with the bureaucratics of it. Nonetheless, I go in with my sister, who also wants a job this summer. To my disappointment, the lady tells me that they've filled all their positions for the summer, but that they're still accepting applications. I think to myself, whatever, I'll just fill out an application. I do a terrible job with it. Numerous times I need to consult my sister, who's four years younger than me, on how to fill in certain sections. I skip entirely the prior work section, which I learn later was a poor idea. Apparently you can fill in academic accomplishments and co-cirriculars if you have no professional work experience. Oops!

Later in the week, I finally decide to call the tutoring place next to Clemens. The guy tells me that they have all their positions filled, but that he's always looking for new talent. If I want, he told me, I could cook up a résumé and give it to him. Basically the same deal as Sesame Place. I'm not even going to bother.

And finally, the other morning, I wake up and come downstairs to read the paper. Next to the newspaper is a nicely filled in application for the movie theater. We had picked one up on the way back home from Sesame Place. Quite a hint, huh? So later in the day I take it over and drop it off with some girl behind the desk. She assures me that her boss will get it when she comes in later in the day.

And I haven't heard anything yet. Admittedly, I have not tried very hard to get a job this summer. My "hunt" has been something closer to a lion going around the jungle asking small animals if they'd like to be eaten, instead of simply eating them by force. But who knows? Maybe this movie deal will go through, and I'll be employed. Or not.

Yesteday Lunch:
Frozen Pizza and Sour Cream & Onion Chips.

Yesterday Dinner:
Veal Parmesian, Bread & Butter, Sliced Potatoes.

Today Lunch:
Grilled Ham & Cheese, Baked Potato.

Checkpoint

In two days, the first two years of my college career will be officially complete. The weight of this reality has yet to fully sink in, but I do feel that this has all gone by far too quickly. I've realized over the years that I'm a person who fears uncertainty. When the future is nothing but uncertainty, I try to ignore it as long as humanly possible. During our fine days back at Neshaminy, I put off looking into university literally until the spring of our senior year, when I took one single day to tour two colleges. It was enough to make me sick, and that was that. If I could have controlled time, I would have slowed it down to a standstill, so that I wouldn't have had to ever leave my comfort zone.

It turns out the future held wonderful things for me, as I am loving my time at Villanova, and I'm better off for it. So the prospect of taking a step into the great unknown that is life frightens me just as much as it did before. Time flows like a small, helpless child down the fierce rapids. The fierce rapids of doom. As much as uncertainty rattles me to the core, I know that really good, well written chapters must end for new ones to emerge. But when you're in the thick of those brilliantly entertaining chapters, you wish there was a way that they could go on forever.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We've arrived at a checkpoint. A midway gate. Whatever you want to call it. It's time to appreciate what we've done since we left Neshaminy, and look forward to what lies ahead. Now, I realize this doesn't correlate that well to a video game-type checkpoint, because you don't get to start over from such a point if you die on your adventures from here on out. Nor would you get to start over all the way from the beginning (or maybe you do, if you believe in such philosophical theories of life loops). Regardless, let's make this summer a completely badass one.

I had an 8 am exam for the second straight day this morning. Painful. It's a class called "Politics, Business, and Society," and even after taking the final, I'm really not sure if I know anything at all about the subject. I was able to write a bunch of stuff down on paper, but did I actually understand the essence of anything I wrote? Who knows? Who cares?! It's over, and I'm done with that. The professor for that class though, my good buddy Satya, wins the award for coolest professor of the semester. His Indian accent was so fun to listen to, and the way he posed questions to students was always so awkward / innocent / hilarious. "So what do you think of this lecture? Interesting? Boring? Exciting? Which one is it?"

Lunch:
Chicken tenders with fries, accompanied by ranch dipping sauce. I had a chocolate milkshake a few minutes later.

Dinner:
A few bites of bad lasagna. A few bites of bad flounder. And bread and butter!

See y'all in a few days, hopefully!

The Universe, Unfortunately, Has a Way of Course-Correcting

Hello all! I don't really have a whole lot to talk about, nor do I have the energy to elaborate on my essentially mundane day. Regardless, as Stacey loves posting on House days, I love posting on Lost days. Tonight's episode was a real winner, I thought. "Whatever Happened, Happened." Sorry Dan and Anna Mathew, but Ben isn't dead. In fact, it looks like Sayid shooting Ben, and then Jack refusing to help operate on him is what caused Ben to go to the Others in the first place.

Also, this was probably my favorite Kate episode. Her motivation to go back to the Island, to find Claire, is a truly honorable one. She knows that what's best for Aaron is to be raised by his actual mother. Finally a little selflessness from her. She's definitely gone up a few notches in my book.

The part that had me clapping my hands was the very end, when Ben wakes up to John Locke, right there, in his face. "Welcome back to the land of the living." John Locke is so badass.

Lunch:
Potatoes and some sort of salami sandwich.

Dinner:
Turkey, mashed potatoes, pasta, and bread and butter. Quite a fine meal for the Pit.

Late Night:
Chocolate covered pretzels.

War Gift

Unfortunately, this was just another mundane Monday for me. I got up around 9:30, went to Ethics at 10:30, then came back to my room for a little while. While perusing the internet, I found out the name of Lost's Season 5 Finale. I've been going through Lost withdrawal. It's been almost two weeks since the last new episode! My God! So even a little tidbit like the name of an episode was very exciting.

My radio show last night was interesting, to say the least. I was the first one in the studio, just minutes before 7, so I quickly readied my computer. Kristen and Amy showed up several minutes later, still excited about the Britney Spears concert they attended the day before. So I finished my segment of the show a little after 7:30, and then they devoted the remainder of the program entirely to Britney Spears. It was easily the most Spears music I've ever listened to in a single sitting, and in all likelihood, last night will retain that honor for the rest of my life.

Lunch:
Still energized by the name of the Season 5 finale, I went to the Pit for lunch before Differential Equations. Speaking of which, I'm declaring in Math this week, finally, just in time for course selection Thursday night. At the Pit, I made myself some French Onion Soup. It was a bright spot on the day. You get the broth, the cheese, and the croutons. Yum.

I had Diff Eq, and then "Politics, Economy, and Society." That class would be terrible if not for my professor, Satya. He's this amazing Indian guy who's incredibly chill. After talking about our research / data analysis paper assignment today, he asked us very cooly, "So, is this exciting? Interesting? Boring?" Well, no Professor, it sounds terrifying, but since you're so laid back about it, I won't worry as much.

After class, I went to the mailroom, where a package from Mom was waiting for me. It contained St. Patrick's Day's themed cookies, a nail clipper, and some left over laundry from when I was home for Spring Break. An interesting assortment, but all good stuff.

Dinner:
3FD, Vinny, Jeremy, and I went to the Pit (again?) for dinner. There I had meatballs. A plate full of meatballs. It would have been nice to have some bread and butter to go with it, but alas, the bread bin was empty.

Well, I'm just waiting to watch 24 now, and that will likely cap all the excitement for the night. Let's hope Jack makes some terrorists' lives miserable.

Edit:
Hahaha... Jack didn't disappoint. Jack getting in a bulldozer and flipping over a trailer that housed Evil-Jack was one of the most hilarious moments ever on television. That is all.

From the Shadows of the Radio Station, I Bring You the Old Skip

"I tried to do handstands for you."

So I realized just the other day when I was perusing the old posts on our little website here that in the six weeks that I've endured this semester, I have only one blog post to show for it. The rush of emotions and thoughts entered my head. Is the blog really dead, as Anna Mathew so morbidly put it? What would a world be like without people sharing their food-filled adventures with each other? And... if the food blog is really dead... do we know whether it wanted to be cremated or buried?

"But you just want to explode."

So here I am, doing my radio show, all by my lonesome today. One of my co-hosts went home for the weekend for her sibling's birthday, while another is studying for a midterm, and the last one just isn't here, for any possible number of reasons. What better way to kill an hour and a half than by writing a blog post. I declare this the old skip. BFD, where does your heart truly lie?

"Can you give it up?"

The computer in the studio is really nice. It has two screens, side by side. Hold your DS on its side and you get the idea (though don't try to poke one of the monitors; it won't do you any good). The screen on the right contains the big-time automation program. It's very fancy and I can't begin to explain its intricacies to you. The screen on the left is your typical old computer monitor, with a desktop, innerweb, and whatnot. So, picture the food blog website on the left, and a bunch of weird folders and track listings on the right. That's what I'm looking at right now.

"I know St. Peter won't call my name."

Yikes. I thought I was going to be completely alone and unheard for the duration of my show, so I was planning on playing all sorts of crazy stuff like video game music. I see through my window the general manager of the station walk into the studio lobby. He's doing some bureaucratic work for WXVU, I guess. Well there goes all my fun. Now I have to be professional.

"G-L-O-R-I-A, it's love, my friend."

I woke up this morning, looked out my window, and saw gray clouds and relative darkness. It can't be later than 10 o clock AM, I think. That's definitely a morning sky. I roll over, shifting my eyes to my clock, where my mood then dramatically sinks. Ugh, is it really already noon? Son of a bitch.

"Thanks for all you've shown us."

At one, I watched Villanova trounce (sort of) Syracuse in Men's Basketball, then I went over to the Connelly Center for a 3:30 PM lunch. I'm a mess. But lunch itself was better than usual. I got a grilled chicken sandwich, with ranch dressing smothering the bun. Yum. Then the rest of the day I tried studying for midterms. The problem is that I have midterms on Wednesday and Thursday. Do I start studying now? I usually start the day before the test. Will I have the motivation to study now? I can either study or do nothing, but I don't want to do nothing because then I'll feel like a waste of life. So I tried studying.

"I'm pushing an elephant up the stairs."

It's just past 8 now, and I have not yet eaten dinner. I can predict it though. I'll go to Connelly after the show where I'll either get a cheesesteak or a shitty grilled cheese. The decision shouldn't be difficult at all. The cheesesteak is clearly better in every tangible facet. But... I don't have to wait for the grilled cheese. It's right there in a bin at the counter, drowning in its own grease, in addition to the grease of the other grilled cheeses. It's so easy to just pick it up and go on my merry little way. For the cheesesteak, I have to wait upwards of five minutes for a chef to cook and construct it. I'll probably go for the cheesesteak tonight, unless unexpected variables enter the equation.

"I think I drink too much."

Heath Ledger FTW (hopefully). Cheerio!

Snowhead / Jughead

That smooth, soothing melody that plays when my phone recieves a text message went off at 6 AM this morning. Hearing that could only mean one thing. I quickly looked at the message, and sure enough, it was from the Villanova Alert System. The University will be closed throughout the duration of the day. No classes! I love snow.

I woke up a little before eleven and promptly readied myself for a day with few responsibilities. I did my laundry with relative ease, to my surprise. Surely everyone else in the building would want to take advantage of an off day to do their laundry. But no, I had an empty washer and empty dryer in succession.

Lunch:
A little later, the gang and I trudged through the snow covered roads to the Pit for some grub. The lunch special, a pork sandwich, was surprisingly satisfying. I even went back for seconds.

Being the good student that I am, I took advantage of the snow day to complete the rest of my work for the week. The weekend is only a few easy strides away now.

Dinner:
For dinner, Vinny suggested we order delivery, which was quite the good idea, I should add. We called this place called Chris' Grill and I got a cheeseburger with french fries. I wasn't sure how good it would be, but it blew my expectations out of the water. It was a juicy burger with a lot of flavor and color, served on a soft, tasty bun. A fine effort indeed!

When I was finished eating, I eagerly awaited for Lost to start. I even watched the enhanced version of the second hour of last week's episode at 8. A whole bunch of people came over to catch the new episode at nine, including Jeremy, who has only seen through Season 2. Suffice to say, he had no idea what was going on.

Some highlights:
-Charles Widmore was on the island with the Hostiles / Others!

-Richard visits Locke when he's a baby because future Locke told him to!

-Desmond's kid is named Charlie!

-And, almost certainly, Ms. Hawking is Daniel Faraday's mother. Widmore telling Desmond that the mother is in LA (which is where the Oceanic 6, Ben, and Ms. Hawking were last episode) confirms this in my mind. Interesting, though, is what people are saying about the blonde chick with the Hostiles who went with Daniel to the bomb on the Island. Daniel said something to the extent of, "You look familiar." Could that chick be Ms. Hawking, his own mother? Adding credibility to that theory is that in the enhanced episode (basically, a "pop up video," with fun tidbits) that aired at 8, in the scene with Ms. Hawking at the end, it was confirmed that her full name is "Eloise Hawking." What's the name of the blonde chick on the Island? Ellie.

Very solid episode.

Also:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eyrJGrd-rc

Crab Boat

In the midst of a relatively boring day, food was my highlight. I woke up this morning with the knowledge that we were going out to lunch because my brother was leaving for Villanova again later this afternoon. There are always some days when you don't want to get out of bed, knowing very well that what awaits in the hours ahead won't be worth the effort, but today certainly wasn't one of those.

Lunch:
We arrived at J.B. Dawson's, one of my favorite restuarants, a few minutes before noon. I got French Onion Soup to start, and then crabcakes. My entree arrived in a small dish resting upon a larger plate, containing my side of fries. The waitress warned me, "Be careful, the Crab Boat is very hot." The only thing I could think of was the character Crabcakes dressed up like a pirate, sailing upon the vast potato seas, yelling "crabcakes!" They were scrumptious.

My Mom and I went into Philadelphia a few hours later to pick up my repaired robot leg. For the past two days I've been walking on one of my old right leg braces that is much too small, even for my scrawny legs. Regrettably, there were some issues with the drop locks. I was walking around to get a feel for the brace in the workshop and one of locks kept coming undone. Everything about a faulty lock is terrible. The sound it makes when it pops off -- it's a dense, metallic explosion. And then your leg essentially falls out beneath you... Yikes. Horrible. So, they took it back in their shop, doing whatever they do to fix that, and I went away satisfied. Whether or not there's actually instability in the frame anymore, the confidence in my step has been shattered. It'll take a little while before it's second nature again.

Dinner:
After my Mom picked my sister up from tennis lessons in the evening, they brought home Wendy's. I had a double cheeseburger with fries.

Our exciting Friday night included playing cards and watching television. Oh well. At least I won cards. I go back to school early Sunday afternoon, so chances are I won't see y'all again until the Spring. I wish each of you boatfulls of luck in the new year!

Christmas Eve Eve: A Mayer Family Tradition

Christmas Eve Eve, in the Mayer household, is when the Christmas celebration truly kicks off. And it doesn't really end until my Dad's birthday, on the 28th. We like to milk this oppurtunity to be fat and lazy as much as possible.

So on Christmas Eve Eve, the "kids" -- myself, my sister, and Jon Mayer, exchange gifts among ourselves. It's a little taste of all that Christmas spirit to come. We also open Aunt Frances' gifts, which without fail always arrive in the mail all the way from Lawrence, Kansas either the day before Christmas Eve Eve or on the day itself.

Lunch:
Mom made me a tuna fish sandwich and a baked potato. Yum.

The afternoon was fat and lazy, as expected during the Christmas season. I played video games after lunch. We heard a doorbell some time later, prompting my mother to go to the door. Aunt Frances' presents were here! Aunt Frances gifts are always a lot of fun. You never know what you're gonna get. Sometimes it makes no sense whatsoever. Sometimes she tries to throw a self-fulfilling prophecy on you. And, best of all, sometimes the gift is just what you wanted.

Later in the day, BFD gave me a call asking me to join him, Anna Mathew and Stacey at the diner. A Food Blog party! I hesitated at first, not wishing to disrupt the evening traditions of Christmas Eve Eve, but I decided to go with the intention of only staying for a little bit. As soon as I started the car, there was an "empty gas" light on the dashboard. I guess my Dad has been trying to squeeze out every ounce of energy, but it was a little disconcering for me. Luckily, I made it to the diner without my car stopping in the middle of any busy road or intersection.

Diner:
I had french fries only, knowing that my family was planning on ordering Colonel Taso a little bit later.

Dinner:
I got back just in time. Colonel Taso was on top of his game tonight. The chicken was delicious, as well as the chicken fried rice. Yummmm.

I forgot to mention that my Dad plays tennis with some buddies every Tuesday, around dinner-time. So he wasn't there for Colonel Taso. Apparently, he went drinking with aforementioned buddies after tennis! So the hours passed without sight of Dad. We watched "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" at 8 on television. Then "Babes in Toyland," starring Keanu Reeves afterwards. It was close to 10 before Dad finally came through the garage door.

With an unusually late start to the Christmas Eve Eve celebration, we all promptly sat ourselves under the tree, placing our gifts to each other and the Aunt Frances gifts in their appropriate spots. The joy of Aunt Frances gifts came first. I got a pair of leather gloves, which was nice. One of the less bizarre gifts I've recieved from her over the years. My sister got the wierd gift this year: a romace novel from the 60's signed by the author! WTF?! My mom always gets jewely that Aunt Frances would probably wear.

Onto the kids' gifts! I got a wallet that looks like an NES controller from my sister, and some Wii points from Jon Mayer. Good stuff. I got my sister a fancy shirt with some guitars on it, and my brother a book containing every imaginable fact about all the Presidents, including every inauguration speech.

But oh, what?! A secret gift from the closet? Apparently my parents decided to give Jon and me one final gift that they got last-minute. Yea, what the hell. Christmas Eve Eve doesn't really make any sense to begin with. We opened it simultaneously, revealing the Phillies Championship themed Monopoly set! How cool!

We played it very soon thereafter, and I got my ass kicked. The only unowned property I landed on the entire game was Jamie Moyer, our 46-year old starting pitcher. As the game approached midnight, Mom, Jon Mayer, and my sister began yelling at my Dad for getting home so late. We weren't even close to finishing the game yet! It truly was an airing of grievances. On Festivus, we had a true Festivus moment.

Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukuah, Happy Kwanza, and most importantly, Merry Dolemas!

The Man, The Myth, The Legend: Mendel Doug

When my alarm went off at 7 this morning, I groaned and pressed the sleep button as I usually do. Getting up for 8:30 New Testament Survey never makes me especially happy, but with a quiz scheduled for class today, that lessened my motivation even more. After I pressed my sleep button, I fell into a convincing dream where I actually got up and readied myself for class. Professor Danove had a trick up his sleeve, it seems: the quiz turned out not to be questions from the reading, but rather, a selection of first-century foods that we had to eat in order to pass. The memory of this dream is sketchy, but they included bugs and strange amphibious creatures. Yuck.

When I again woke up and realized that I was still in bed, that made me even more upset. The quiz was just a regular old quiz. Class was regular old class. Then History was regular old history.
Upon returning to my dorm, I felt the urge to watch a little Lost online before Calculus. I had just the episode in mind: "Flashes Before Your Eyes," from Season 3. This episode really stands out, in my opinion, because it's the first indication of Time Travel in the series. Plus, Desmond is a badass character with a sad story.

After Calculus, 3FD, Jakob, Jeremy, and I headed on our way to lunch at the Pit. The sad part is that every alternative to the Pit is extremely lacking in variety. You can only eat a mediocre grilled cheese from Connelly, or a tough chicken parm from the IK, so many times before it becomes tiresome. The Pit it is...

So while on our way, we see crowds convening around the lawn in front of the Pit building. What's going on? Is that a guy in a gorilla suit... fighting a thick, bearded man in a T-shirt...?

Mendel Doug. For nearly a decade, Doug attended Villanova as an undergraduate. He was a genius in the mathematics and sciences. And he was insane. Legend has it that he took every single math and science course Villanova had to offer. And because most sciences are in the Mendel building, he acquired the name, "Mendel Doug." He put off taking his required freshmen courses for years until administration practically forced him to graduate two years ago.

But that's not even close to explaining why Mendel Doug is crazy. He carries with him at all times a plastic lightsaber, similar to those we used in the hit movie Assenchip Volume 2. One of the first stories I ever heard of Doug was from my cousin, who played with him on the Water Polo team. One day, when my cousin was in class, Doug walked by the room, saw my relative, ran into the room and proceeded to beat him incessently with his lightsaber. Then he walked away.

Doug is also very well known for his battles in the various fields across campus, against anyone foolish enough to challenge him. He kicks the shit out of people.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKzWWo80h1g

I mean, this is legit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFLXgi6cMl8&feature=related

And he does whatever the hell he wants.

So back to my day, while on the way to the Pit, I had my first personal experience with Mendel Doug. Keep in mind that even though he graduated two years ago, he still spends much of his time around Villanova. As he was fighting the character in the gorilla outfit (and kicking his ass, mind you), Father Peter, the president of the university, sifts his way to the front of the crowds, saying, almost sarcastically, "Doug! If you keep doing this, you're going to hurt someone!" Doug rose from the ground and sprinted off and out of view, while Father Peter casually walked away with his colleagues. It was as if an unassuming parent told his playful child to stop being so rowdy.

Lunch:
After all the excitement, I had a turkey sandwhich and sausage pasta down in the Pit. Not half bad.

And since nothing worth mentioning happened between one meal and the next...

Dinner:
At the IK, I had one of those tiresome chicken parms.

If a Picture Says a Thousand Words...

PS: Birthday wishes go to my dear brother Jonathan, who turns 21 tomorrow.

Time

The buzzing noise pierces my ears. I turn reluctantly to my alarm clock, realizing that my peaceful slumber would soon come to an end. In a petty attempt to delay the inevitable, I press the snooze button and turn on my side once more.

Ten minutes pass and I toss myself to the ground. I shower, dress, and brush my teeth before I sit down at my beloved computer.

Time. It charges relentlessly like an 18-wheeler over a helpless cat. Get on board, or get crushed by its unmatched power.

Checking my email, I'm pleased to see that Professor Jim has cancelled Physics Lab and Physics Lecture today. I ponder the period just two days prior, when he showed up a half hour late for a 75 minute class. In a world where schedules brutally tyrannize the lives of all who hope to progress, here is a man who couldn't care less about his image in the eyes of Time.

"You better hope I don't die over the winter," Jim apathetically stated that Tuesday, "or else you'll all be screwed next semester." Indeed. Great Ideas II requires completion of Great Ideas I, and at this snail's pace, no one knows for sure how far behind we are.

Free Time. A luxary plated in Fool's Gold. Those who fail to use it wisely will fall victim to the unfortunate "Monday Morning Quarterback" illness. Second guessing rises to the top of everyone's mind, but those who realize that Time will not wait for mourners are the only ones with a chance to succeed.

Lunch:
Chicken. Fry it. Melt cheese. Gently rest bacon on top. Sandwich it on a bun. Eat it.

Calculus. Find the maximum curvature of a three-dimensional figure. The maximum only ever occures once along Time, t. Unfortunately, in most cases, people fail to realize the maximum has taken place until long afterwards. But don't look back and reminisce. Time has no patience for nostalgia.

I eagerly wish away the 75 minutes of Time in Philosophy of Law. I listen silently as my classmates discuss Tuesday's election and (what we were supposed to be talking about) Affirmative Action. Keep Affirmative Action in place, and people who tirelessly build their resumes under the brutal constraints of Time may find themselves on the outside looking in. Do away with Affirmative Action, and people born into situations where it's impossible to succeed will turn their wheels in mud for all eternity. Time is a bus without enough seats. A bus that enjoys running over small children.

Dinner:
At the Connelly Center, Vincent, Jeremy, Jakob and I dine peacefully. I consume a slice of plain pizza and a piece of pizza bread. When you get the oppurtunity to experience both sides of the same coin, you'd be wise to do so.

Leave it to Professor Nesto to claim authority over which he knows nothing about. In my evenings, I coach an Intermural Volleyball team consisting of friends in my hall. During matches, I bellow things like "Get the ball!" and "I wanna see intensity!" A short while after dinner, we hold our first practice (after already playing for three weeks). The flow of Time is never more prevelant than in the midst of a Volleyball game. One small mistep, one small arm motion error -- the ball has already passed. Time enjoys seeing you fail.

Time is a jerk.

Victorious

This morning kind of sucked. I had a New Testament Survey test at 8:30, which went pretty well, but those exams are always so tedious and difficult to study for. Other than that, the day was pretty smooth. After Calculus, 3FD, Vinny and I went to the IK for some grub.

Lunch: Chicken Parm sandwich with a piece of garlic bread.

During the afternoon I did Philosophy of Law homework and studied for my Calculus test. Nothing too exicting. The thought of World Series Game 1 later in the day propelled me to get my stuff done quickly.

Dinner: In good Philadelphia spirit, I had a Cheesesteak from the Connelly Center. Very tasty.

Of course, the main attraction of my day was the Phillies in the World Series. It was exciting, terrifying, and everything in between. Cole the Pole and Chutley came up big, leading us to a 3-2 victory. I'm going to Game 3 on Saturday, so that should be incredible.

Unfortunately, during the grind in the middle of the week in the middle of the semester, there's not going to be a ton of exciting things going on. And plus I'm kind of tired now. Everyone root for the Phillies!

And His Name is Compeyson

I'm taking a break from the take-home portion of my Philosophy of Law midterm at the moment to bring to you the wonders of my food-filled day. You know, this whole Philosophy of Law thing is funny. I think to myself, "Why am I in this class?" pretty much every time I sit down and open the assigned books. The first day of class, Professor McCarthey asked for a show of hands of who was thinking of going to law school. I think everyone raised their hand but me. Thanks, but no thanks. I went into this class with the intention of getting my upper-level Philosophy requirment out of the way. Why couldn't it have been, you know, a philosophy class instead of a law class? The former was pretty interesting, I thought. Oh well, that's what happens when you get the last possible class selection time slot (yes, I'm still slightly bitter over that). I guess the basic foundations of our legal system aren't a terrible thing to know either, so maybe it's a blessing.

Lunch:
Tray-Beard (3FD) and I went to CEER, where I got a chicken Caesar Salad, a cookie, and a Pepsi.

During the afternoon, I studied for the objective portion of the Philosophy of Law midterm, which is in class tomorrow. Kind of a boring day.

Dinner:
The gang and I traveled to Connelly, where I got a Tuna fish sub. Pretty good.

Smores:
Not long after dinner, the residence hall of Fedigan held a Smore party on the lawn outside. Our RA called it a "community building experience," but I don't buy it. It was pretty much my usual friends with a few others, so not much community needed to be constructed. Actually, all the construction effort went into making the blasted smores. It's a real mess, melting those marshmellows. And don't get me started on the graham crackers! They're too rigid to be effectively utilized as the "bread" of the "sandwich." What a mess! Then Vinny stole the rest of the marshmellows.

PS: I'm coming home on Friday, early afternoon, so I expect multiple diner visits during the week I'm home. Also, homecoming is this Saturday, if anyone is interested. Dr. Hensel will be there!

Sarah Palin: Working for the Japanese?

It's been a few weeks since both parties' conventions and their respective announcements of running mates. By now we all know this crazy Alaskan running with McCain. Nobody in the mainland even heard of her a month ago, but now she's some kind of celebrity. Yet, for some strange, unsettling reason, I feel like I've known Sarah Palin for a longer time than that. Not for much longer. Maybe a month or two. I've had the darndest time putting my finger on it, but just the other day I felt as if I'd solved the mystery. Let me set the stage.

It was the second week of July and e3 season was upon us. For those of you who don't know, e3 is (or perhaps more appropriately, 'was,' but that's another issue entirely) the most exciting time of year for a gamer. It's a gaming convention where the big guns in the industry reveal new games and hardware they've been developing. Each of the major companies hold a press conference to kick off the convention.

So the morning of Nintendo's e3 conference, I went to F. Dan's house to watch it with him on television. The conference was terrible. A complete waste of time. Dreadfully boring. Where were all of the surprises? But perhaps the most painful aspect of the conference was the keynote speaker, Cammie Dunaway, an employee of Nintendo with an unhealthy obsession with smiles. Her glowing, piercing stare, with her screeching voice and perfectly white smile, conveyed the notion that this wasn't really a woman at all. This was new technology from Nintendo, a robot that attempts to mimick human qualities, but in reality, just annoys everyone she talks to. Sort of like Light Bulb Man, I guess.

So how does this relate to Sarah Palin? It's obvious to anyone who witnessed Dunaway's excessivley perky persona as she Wii Skiid with that Carrot Top Olympian and fenced with Badass Reggie on stage -- she looks like, sounds like, thinks like, and generally is like Palin.

Conspiracy Theory: Cammie Dunaway is Sarah Palin. An agent of Nintendo's. A mole trying to get into Washington. Why, might you ask, would Nintendo want to control Washington? That's just plain crazy, Professor! Nintendo makes video games, not legal policy! Any other day I would agree with you. But today, I read this article:

http://wii.ign.com/articles/911/911328p1.html

Nintendo being sued for copyright infringement? Products might be taken off the market? How in the world can they stop that mess? Hmmm... perhaps they can have themselves pardoned via the executive branch? Suddenly it all makes sense. Nintendo, through the use of advanced robot technology, has created their vision of the perfect American woman in an attempt to swoon the electorate, capture the White House, and assure themselves dominance in the video game market. But will it stop there? No. With power comes corruption. You can expect Nintendo, through Palin, to exterminate Sony and Microsoft from the marketplace. Dunaway at e3 was Version 1.0. They read thoroughly the nerdy fan complaints about her around the interweb and spent a month making slight modifications. Then they made a deal under the table with John McCain. Nintendo would give each member of the McCain campaign a free Wii under the condition that Nintendo could choose his running mate. Since Wiis have been so hard to find ever since launch two years ago, McCain really had no other choice. The temptation was too much. He is human, after all.

There's my theory, so take it as you will. This article is in no way meant to tell you how to make your decision in November. On one hand, it would probably be pretty cool if Nintendo was running the show. On the other, placing robots a doorstep away from the Presidency may seem immoral to some. Vote Dole, actually. There's no drawback to that.

On to food!

Lunch:

After Physics Lab (my first of the semester, since the first three weeks of it were cancelled!), I quickly went down to Connelly for a tuna sandwich. It was tasty.

Dinner:

We ate a little later tonight because 3FD and I went to a meeting for some club we didn't realize we were a part of until today (it's not application based -- apparently you get inducted if you have a certain GPA or something). The meeting was cheesy, as was the Pizza I ate at Connelly for dinner (har har!).

A Year to Remember

I guess it was this time last year, that lonely day when Dan and I were talking over AIM. For the first time in a long time, the Onions had been disbanded. Freshman year of college had started and I really didn't know many people yet. I wasn't sure if I was built for this sort of journey. Gone was the stability of my life at home. Gone was the stability of my life at Neshaminy (I still love that place). Everything was turned on its side.

And of course, gone were those early mornings in A-Hall when we would come into school and Dan would ask us what we had for dinner the previous night. It was always refreshing. A perfect icebreaker.

So when Dan and I were talking over AIM on September 6th, 2007, and probably in the days leading up to that date, we wanted to find a way to keep the Onion community alive. We wanted that legendary question to climb to the new heights, and each of us would have the privilege of riding on its coattails. We wanted to answer the question, "What did you have for dinner last night?"

When BFD made the blog, we each posted on its first night of existence. What most people forget is that the blog almost died in the days soon thereafter. After the initial day of posting, September 6th, there wasn't another post for nearly a week (of course, a drought like that is hardly unusual in retrospect). But once Ian joined the two man squad, things really got rolling.

What does this all mean, then? Why do people love the food blog? Why do I love the food blog? The answer, actually, cannot be narrowed down to one reason. The blog was a means of keeping the Onions together. It allowed me to write, as an outlet of sorts. In the first weeks of college, it helped me feel close to home. I could go on and on. The food blog has everything: witty writing, a ridiculous premise, entertaining fads, a fantastic design (props to BFD), loyal readers, and mouth watering descriptions of food.

For several reasons, this last year has been one of the most important of my life. Undeniably, the Food Blog was a big help through the entire experience. But enough of this chatter. I'm going to describe my ideal version of a day's worth of meals.

Ideal Breakfast:
I know I know. Breakfast causes cancer. But my Mom makes mad Chocolate Chip Pancakes. If I could have anything for breakfast, a plate of those sweet delights would be at the top of the list.

Actual Breakfast on 9/6:

None. We didn't go out to eat until around 1:30.

Ideal Lunch:

I'm a man who likes to go out to restaurants. So on a perfect day of food, it would be a crime for me not go out at least once. So for lunch, we'll go to J.B. Dawsons. I'll order a French Onion Soup to start, then I'll have Crabcakes for the main course. God, I love crabcakes. And Dawsons has really good dessert too, so I'll get a warm brownie ala mode. Absolutely delicious.

Actual Lunch on 9/6:

A load of shit. Through the pouring rain, we went to the usually godawful Pit, and today didn't disappoint our expectations. I foolishly got a fried fish sandwich, of which I took two bites before I put it down. I also had sausage patties, which weren't as bad, but were far from inspiring.

Ideal Dinner:

We'll stay in the house for this food adventure. My Dad makes steak as good as any restaurant out there, so we're in for a real treat now. Filet Mingon, seasoned and cooked (medium rare) to perfection, with baked potatoes on the side. Also, fantastic bread, buttered with loving care. This is stretching it a bit, but really good Amish Macoroni Salad would be the icing on the cake.

Actual Dinner on 9/6:

There was no way that we were going through the rain again for the same crappy food, so we instead order Campus Corner. Pizza and Onion Rings. Not bad, all things considered.

So on this disgusting, rainy day, we can celebrate with our memories of a fantastic year gone by. I propose a toast. To the Food Blog! May this be the first of many exciting anniversaries!