Catching up
OK so I finally caught up in the Readings department. Next step: About Me.

Then I have to redo the site because it's starting to break down after alternating between Dreamweaver, then manually, then using Mozilla, now Dreamweaver again.

Plus I have Fireworks and all those goodies. So I should really redo the whole thing.

Lots of work though.

You lack discipline
So why is it that it's so much easy to fore yourself into physical regiments than it is for intellectual ones? I mean, I can force myself to get up and go to the gym every day - no problem. But to force myself to put away an hour a day to write...that's just not gonna happen. I like to tell myself it's because writing needs some form of inspiration and that you can't just sit down and write and expect good stuff to come out. It's a very desperate thing.

But why is it so easy to do the physical things? Well, for one thing, it's guaranteed. I know that if I get up and go every day that it's only a matter of time before I get results. I will start to look different, feel different (a direct correlation of how different I look, plus excercise feels good), and so on. Guaranteed it will work. No doubt. I know this as fact. Just get out there and get on the machines, lift the weights, etc. It'll happen.

With writing, it's not that cut and dry. I really am struggling to find a way to draw the parallel between practicing baseball (or guitar, or french, or anything else you want to learn to improve in life) to writing - but something keeps blocking me. I think it may be straight up laziness. Maybe it's something else. It sounds perfectly logical that if I take one hour per day and write (and I mean real writing, dedicated, really into it, not just "oh my hour is done let's go") that it will improve. It's improved leaps and bounds since I started writing things out along with the website early this year. So that should encourage me.

"Nobody said it was easy,
No one ever said it would be so hard..."

- Coldplay

Grad School
Today the young grad student went to his appointment with much anticipation. He had his questions ready and expected a great welcoming. Instead he was greeted with a quizzical look that said "Why is he asking me this stuff?"

Then she said to him, as she chuckled, "You won't even have time for readings..."

Which left him troubled and a little hesitant to start his classes, which was oh so excited about only minutes earlier.

Pumping Iron
After much hype and talk I finally got to watch Pumping Iron yesterday, the infamous Arnold Scharzennegger (I'd be impressed if I spelled that right) weightlifting documentary of the 70s. It was very entertaining and Arnold is really quite a clever guy. He was even back then. The thing that made him better than everyone else was his experience, his body (obviously), his dedication, and his confidence. But he was a mind game kind of guy, and he was real good at it.

One thing I liked was when this guy (a friend of his just joking around I think) told him that Ferrigno (his top competition) was the "hungry wolf" that wasn't at the top of the hill. Arnold, being the reigning champion, was the metaphorical "top wolf." So he's telling all this to Arnold while Arnold is trying to sleep, all nonchalant.
It goes something like this:

- You know, the wolf on top of the hill isn't as hungry as the wolf who is climbing, wanting to get to the top...
- (arnold) Yeah that's true. But when it wants the food it's there.

I thought that was a pretty good answer, and his delivery was flawless. His body language was saying "stop bothering me with this nonsense, let me sleep, I'm going to win."
Great movie.

Tomorrow the Metallica documentary.

In Chicago
What a great way to post my 100th post of all time. Yay, balloons falling and all that good stuff.

Today was great. It started off terribly. Had a really bad headache from last night, which was rough. But also because of my teeth, I forgot to put in my retainer and my teeth were moving all out of place and it still hurts. Plus the hangover right, so that was just a bad day.

But then at 3 I had food and went for a walk. A walk will cure what ails you. I went to the Fitness center at DePaul and signed up, what a beauty of a place. I can't start until wednesday but I took a walk through the place and wow, I've never gone to such a facility. BC's gym should just hide in a corner and be embarassed. Pathetic. This is state of the art, an indoor track, a bunch of really nice hardwood basketball courts with the pro hoops and backboard. A pool that was closed so I couldn't see it. It's three floors. A ton of cardio stuff and weight machines. Studios for yoga classes and boxing and all that stuff. A little bar area to get drinks after, raquetball courts, I was really impressed.

If my sentences are a bit fragmented it's cause I'm watching the Cubs on TV, sorry.

So I left there all hyped up to go and get started on that. I've noticed a lot of guys looking at me. I feel a bunch of people see me and think I'm gay. It's hard to explain but I think it's due to my being overly self conscious about how thin I am. The gym will take care of that. And I've felt it since before the incident in Boston, so who knows what it is.

So then I went to get my new guitar, which is sweet. It's a classical with nylon strings, and I'm very happy with it. Then I dropped off an application at Borders (gotta pay for that guitar now). The guy at the guitar center was really nice, even though I'm usually very self conscious at that place because I'm such a newbie. Then when I went to buy batteries the clerk was super nice. I'm really gonna like this town, and I'm really psyched to be here and get started with school, a job, etc.

So yeah, I'm very happy to be here.

Chicago
I'm in chicago, ready to get it all started.

Air and Water show is today and tomorrow, and they've been practicing all week. Blue angels and all that good stuff.

Vinnie the cat was scared.

So I'm in chicago finally...here we go.

Television
Television is officially the devil. FOr me personally, it keeps me from doing so many things that I think are great, but that aren't particularly easy for me to sit down and do in an environment of cable tv. I'm thinking of not having one in Chicago. AM radio will be enough for the Cubbies, and the idea that I'm not obsessed with watching them on TV kind of disappoints me. It's like losing something you once had. Or having it fade. Kinda sad really.

But seriously, TV is bad. Rots the brain and all that. All I need is the movie theater. THat way I'll be able to keep reading and writing. TV is trying to take away my post paris buzz and return my mind to the mush it was before I left.

Trying to turn it back into the zombie that the nation as a whole is.

Cubs, is it over?
This is serious. THe question "is it over?" isn't about their season. It's about my obsession. I feel it gradually decreasing. Why? I mentioned already the whole players changing teams and deals being made left and right that bothers me. I don't like it. Right now it's more exciting to be a Padre fan or an Indian fan. In fact, I liked the Padres since spring training and now they are one game back of the Cubs for the Wild card.

What's the matter with me?

Hey, I love Nomar, but he isn't a part of this team. He's a Red Sox player. ALways will be. Barrett? Great deal, but he isn't part of this team. I just don't like the feel of the way the team was built. Too much like the Yankees.

"We need a bat?" Boom, got it.

We're too spoiled, if that's possible for a Cub fan to say.

It all goes back to the Steinbrenner effect (https://portocac.tripod.com/steinbrenner.htm)

Hey, maybe I'm maturing? Wouldn't that be something?

Hotel, motel, holiday inn
Long story shot, I'm in a hotel.

It's a bit of a culture shock coming back to the states after Paris. But in a good way. A good way.

Yesterday a random dude on the street tried to pick me up, and I didn't realize it until a few minutes later. I was feeling particularly good since I was coming from watching The Village down on the Common. SO I was thinking about that and about being in boston, in the US, etc. SO this random guy is walking next to me and goes "do I know you?"

"Um, no"
"Are you an actor at Emerson?"
"Um, no. But I did apply to Emerson" I was high on something and thought I was funny.

"Oh ok, you look like I've seen you in a play or something."
"nope"

Next thing I know I'm sitting down in some restaurant eating a shrimp cocktail and having a Heineken, all on him. Wait that didn't sound right, he paid for it, is what I meant.

That's when it hits me, "oh shit is this guy trying to pick me up??"

He was harmless and didn't "look" gay or act gay (yes I know how very stereotypical of me), and as I'm sitting there I'm laughing inside, "what the fuck am I doing?"

So the conversation is about teaching, philosophy, france, etc.

Finally it ends and I realize he's begging to get my phone number, which I don't have, and I give him the name of some nonexistant hotel where I'm not staying at. He gives me his cell phone number and his last words are:

"What is your name?...OK, I can't wait to see you tonight."

That was the clincher, that's when it was all settled: he was trying to pick me up. I almost ran to Borders and looked at a whole bunch of books, but I couldn't shake the sensation of feeling like, as I put it then, "such a girl"

I got a free shrimp cocktail and a beer for just sitting there and looking good (that's right!). For whatever reason it's a very empowering feeling and I can now say I better understand this behavior in women. I still don't like it, but I understand it.

Crazy huh?

Au Revoir
Well this will be the last post in Paris. I would love to post a nice, teary goodbye to Paris with all my impressions and such, but I'm writing something about it and I don't want to be repeating myself left and right. I'll post it in Writings when it's finished (along with all the other stuff). But yesterday I did go to the Pere Lachaise cemetary to go see our most famous Guatemalan, Miguel Angel Asturias. His grave wasn't listed on the chart at the entrance, and that was confusing. I asked the guy and he said it was and he showed me a map. So I took the map and found him. Cemeteries here are more like Disney world than death and "the end." They don't cause much in me. Anyway I finally found Asturias and I must say, it filled me with great pride. Not only because of all the achievements noted on the plaque, but because of the Mayan stone that stands majestically over his grave. It has Mayan carvings on it, something you really don't see anywhere else but in Guatemala and southern Mexico. What made me so proud is that so many people walked by while I sat across the way and were frozen in their tracks by the sight of this Mayan stone. They would stop, get closer, try to say his name, mention the Nobel Prize (on the plaque), and move on. It made my hear pound as if I was about to give a speech or something. They obviously didn't know who he was before - but then they knew. That's the kind of stuff that makes you proud.

Now all that remains is packing, my most dreaded of enemies after waiting.

A bientot, Paris, I'll see you around.