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Yeah, so about posting every day during NaBloMo… Well, it didn't exactly work as you can see.

Anyways…

I finished Thomas L. Friedman's new book Hot, Flat and Crowded. The structure is similar to his last book The World is Flat: Friedman networks with many different people and weaves those interviews into a convincing argument. He wrote an enlightening chapter on petrodictators. If this chapter alone doesn't convince you why we need to be energy independence, I don't know what will. He provides a very clear picture of the situation in America, China, and rest of the world. Just like TWIF, Friedman dwells at times (making you want to gouge your eye out with a carbon neutral knife). All in all, it was a great book to read. Just before I started this book, I enlisted in the army: T.Boone's army and am on a climate change kick right now. Coming out of this book, I believe that we need a New Deal-esq goverment project for energey independence. It will not only give the middle finger to OPEC and create thousands of jobs to replace those that are lost daily, but will also bring back some of the jobs lost in other industries, as people will once again have money to spend on clothes, food, entertainment, etc.

So the stage was set. I was to drive fifteen passenger vans through New York City, between the campus in the Bronx and in Manhattan. When I proudly announced this, friends who didn’t previously think I was crazy for going east thought I had lost it. I’m sure there were bets going on how long it’d be before I’d transfer back go a school closer to home.

In order to train and learn the ways of the road (That’s right ladies and gentlemen, he’s got jokes!!), the department offers a early arrival training program where new student employees are invited to come onto campus before school starts. As such, I showed up to the Bronx one week before the rest of my graduating class was set to move on and begin orienting themselves.

My mom’s best friend lives in New York. She grew up in the Bronx and now resides down near Grammercy Park. The two are …. Those two are a pair. Best friends of the highest kind. They’re inseparable and have even acquired the nickname “Lucy and Ethel.”

Ethel was kind enough to be there at the airport to pick up Lucy and I and help us schlep all my bags up to the Bronx. When we arrived on campus, my room that I was to live in for the school year was occupied by football players who were in preseason.

Hmm…. This was not good. Res Life wanted to give me a temporary room across campus and then make me move into my regular room when the football players finished with their business. I was then to move myself and all my crap across campus by myself. Lucy wasn’t having any of this. She went to inquire the status of the situation with director of Res Life. Needless to say, after the discussion, Lucy had “convinced” the director that I shouldn’t have to move in and then re-move myself by myself. My new room assignment happened to be in the oldest building on campus which was known for having the largest rooms. (Thanks Mom. You’re the greatest.)

So I started my move-in. Got all my bags in and unpacked. I thought I was set. Little did I realize that my room was lacking so much. Over the next couple of days, while I was learning the ins and the outs of the road ways, Lucy and Ethel visited every house ware, home supply, and fixture from Park Slope to White Plains. Man, I was I set. I had everything under the sun. I mean, I even got the calls from the cafeteria inquiring about my inventory, making sure they could call on me in times of emergency.

It was so great. I had the penthouse suite minus the top floor views. But it didn’t stop there. Lucy and Ethel constantly were thinking of more stuff that I needed. It was great but at a point…. Ugh.

“Hey! We forgot to get you something! Don’t you need tablecloths for when you have company over?”

“No.”

“You totally do! What if you have company over?”

“Uh, no. I don’t. This is a dorm room, not the Waldorf-Astoria.”

Needless to say, I didn’t get tablecloths.

Welcome to ‘Collegiately Speaking.’ Over the next 55 (53 by the time I post this?) days, I will recount some of my great college moments. I am going to skip around and write about whatever comes to time. In other words, there will be no semblance to a chronological order (except for the first several posts. I want to properly set the scene).

Okay, so with the necessary intros out of the way, where better to start than with freshman move-in?

——————————

Moving from the West Coast to the East was a little nerve wracking. Many questions were buzzing through my head, including what the people were going to be like, if I was going to be accepted or cast away like a foreigner and what really were those things they called guidos? (As you can tell, academics weren’t exactly a major worry of mine. I figured they would just fall into line)

One way I thought I would be able to fit in and meet people is by getting a job. What would be so bad about that? I thought. At least I’d have some sort of steady income which would be great in funding my habits of helping old women across the street and going to church. I didn’t go job hunting per se, rather job hunting sought out me.

One day, while evaluating the pros and cons of Hebrew National Hot Dogs versus Nathan’s Best, I received a mailing from the school about jobs on campus. After looking through the information, one job in particular stood out.

“Come Drive in New York City!”

Dude, I thought. How cool would that be?!

I had filled out the form and within a half a day, I was gainfully employed driving 15-passenger vans between the Bronx and the Manhattan campuses. It sure beat digging ditches and I’d get to be driving in NYC. Could it get any better?! Little did I know that what I had just signed up for would become an integral part of my college experience.

Well, day two of being back on the wagon, the blogging wagon that is.

Funny thing happened to me at work today which made me realize that I have to live in the most affluently ghetto neighborhood around.

As I was returning from the car wash (Name: Caribbean Car Wash)(Slogan: "Come bathe your car in the warm waters of the Caribbean")(Yes, it’s still fun to say/think about after three years of using the place), I was held up due to some people blocking the street. There was a choreographed shuffle and then a running to respective vehicles in order to grab parts or tools. Just as the men return to their meeting point and traffic clears up which allowed me to pass this happening, I see this four foot flame emerge from the front bumper of the car at the center of the attraction. This wasn’t just any bumper; this was a champagne colored Benz. Tres chic (Well, the car anyway. Not so much the huge flame). As I pass this entire scene, closer inspection revealed the bumper had a huge crack in it, and the group was heating up the plastic to melt the disfigured part back into place because, let’s be honest, who can afford a spare Benz bumper? I’m sure they were going to pull out some body putty next and go to town, but I didn’t care to stick around to see.

The scene caused me to chuckle. Never would I have seen something like that at home in the Northwest (well, maybe, I haven’t met ALL my parents relatives). Initially I dismissed it as ghetto, then I realized we were talking about a Benz here, one of many signs of an affluent person. Hmm…

I then started to think about my high school and how people would always harp on the facilities for being "ghetto" but how I was perfectly content with what was provided.

And I finally realized that the term ghetto is arbitrarily dished out to so many different things. What is one person’s "ghetto" is another person’s "I’ll patch this up with a roll of duct tape just to get by."

I have no clue where I’m going with this so I guess I’ll end now. See you tomorrow. Maybe?

For some unexplainable reason, people were genuinely nice today. It’s not that they’re suppose to be mean, but I was taken back, because it’s only a Tuesday; people were exhibiting Thursday or Friday behavior. There was general giddiness. It was kind of weird. It wasn’t until I was walking home when it hit me how nice everyone had been during the day. I had to really think for a good reason why they were being so nice, but I came up with nothing. Here’s to hoping every day is like that!

I put a picture of The Gates here because it  reminds me of my crazy Tuesday. A Tuesday is a journey day. You neither love it or hate it. It just is. Everyone deals with it in their own way and gets on with life (kind of like winter). Then everyone was so nice and brightened my day (kind like The Gates), I forgot about the dullness associated with such things like Tuesdays.

That’s stretching it a little far. I tend to make random connections like the Tuesday-Happiness/Winter-Gates example in my mind from time to time.

Like they say in Airplane! "Looks like I picked the wrong day to stop sniffing glue."

All I got to say is HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!!! (231 never looked so young.)

Celebrating Independence Day to me is awesome. I really enjoy the fact that we have a day where we can celebrate the fact that each other has the right to have a different opinion and voice that opinion without fear.

One of my favorite celebrations of the Forth is the Hot Dog Eating Competition at Coney Island. I made it out there for the event last year and it was thrilling. To see 20+ people stuff their face for 12 straight minutes with wieners is quite an experience. Afterwords, my dad and I had four each, because we were that inspired by the competitors. I was going to go this year, but logistical issues (read: hang-over) prevented me from making the hour and a half subway trip out there. Instead I watched on ESPN in HD. Talk about awesome. It was a great competition. So many story lines that it was overwhelming. The major one was the jaw arthritis of Kobayashi. I knew he would overcome his injury though. He’s a competitor. The modern day Lance Armstrong (Okay, minus the testicular cancer). The fact that he ate his reversal truly shows how dedicated he is to his craft. A true competitor.

I did make it out for the fireworks though. I went to Long Island City with some friends. It was great. Macy*s was kind enough to sponsor them again this year. Three barges side to side on the East River with the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building and Rockefeller Center acting as the back drop. Breathtaking. Worth the six hour wait on a wet, rainy pier.

Hop on over to mi madre’s blog. She posted a letter by one of our peeps talking about coming to this great land. Reading it sent shivers down my spine. At times you forget who you are or why you are where you are. So many times you can take for granted what it means to American. After traveling abroad, I don’t think I will–in fact–I will never forget what it means to be an American.

As my distant German relative said, "Thank God, I am an American!"

Okay, fine! Get off me. GOD!

- PDX Pup

Brick Tamland: I love… carpet.
[Pause]
Brick Tamland: I love… desk.
Ron Burgundy: Brick, are you just looking at things in the office and saying that you love them?
Brick Tamland: I love lamp.
Ron Burgundy: Do you really love the lamp, or are you just saying it because you saw it?
Brick Tamland: I love lamp. I love lamp!

I’m obsessed. It’s official. First full day on my bike and I rode. I rode and rode and rode.

Went to school.

Came home from school.

Went to the grocery store.

Came home from the grocery store.

All in all, it was about 12 miles of riding (or at least my computer thingy tells me).

It rained. I rode. It got dark. I rode. I got cut off. I got beeped at. I’m sure if it was a windows down type of day, I would have gotten yelled at too. I still rode. It’s a lot of fun, but I fear that I’m rather tired. I need to make a conservative effort to get to bed at a reasonable hour and rest up if I am to continue this everyday (sorry, no more late night chats with you all).

On a side note, I bought a little jar of marmite spread tonight. Gonna test it out to see how vile (or splendid) some claim it really is.

I thoroughly enjoyed the banter that the last post generated. Thanks to everyone who visits me, and more importantly, actually comments. I hope that it can continue.

A short post tonight. I’m trying to catch up on some reading. It’s not that I’ve put it off or anything, it’s just the simple fact that it just accumulates so fast.

Quote of day: "It is not always easy to translate the customary accounting data back into actual dollars–dollars you can buy beer with." My finance text book talking about cash flows in relation to accounting depreciation and discount costing.

haha, wait. what? That must be a typo or something. A text book that somehow tries to appeal to a college student? This is unreal.

For once I am liking all my courses. In the past, I’ve had a few classes each semester that I absolutely loved. On the other hand, there were classes that I despised. Why on earth do I care about taking a class about why I am, who I am, and the purpose of life. Don’t get me wrong, that kind of stuff is great, if you like to smoke pot and/or think about the deeper meaning of life. Yes, Yes, the education of the whole person is very important. I realize this. Subjects like philosophy are useful and have applications in life. I’m not here to rag on the (too much).

But for once, I’ve hit the whammy. Every single course I am enrolled in rocks! For those of you keeping score at home: Principles of Finance, European Economic Policy, International Economics, and Process of Management. All topics I like and want to read about (instead of falling asleep on the book and waking up an hour later with the page stuck to my cheek).

I’ll leave you with a clip, because I’ve got no cool pics for you to look at or wikipedia articles to read.