Tuesday, March 31, 2009

I Don't Want To Vote, I Just Want To Go To Class

Two weeks ago, I was very content with my life. I could walk wherever I wanted without being bombarded with student body presidential hopefuls pleading for your vote. There is no way to get from one side of campus to the other without having your quietude disrupted by being handed a flier or a reminder that voting starts soon. I have tried every method to avoid them and determined the only methods to avoid these unwelcome intruders.

I thought that if I was preoccupied, listening to my ipod, then those handing out fliers might avoid me. I saw a group of people about 100 feet ahead of me wearing matching t-shirts and handing out neon green papers. My first attempt to avoid them involved turning up the volume on my ipod and I started jamming out, oblivious to the auditory world. I cautiously approached them, pretending to be entranced by my ipod to avoid them. Then I saw her… a beautiful blonde…her hair blowing in the wind… she had gorgeous blue eyes… and then we made I contact. She started making her way over to me. She said something to me and handed me a piece of paper. I couldn’t believe it, I had just gotten this babe’s number! Now I didn’t hear what she said because my ipod was turned up so loud, but it didn’t matter, I had her number! I looked down at the paper she had handed me and it read, “Vote ticket #1 Hatfield Corrigan.” I took a second look at her and she was wearing a matching campaign t-shirt. She had given me a flyer, not her number. What a let down! And I also learned that attempt #1 to avoid these trespassers upon my privacy had failed. Listening to your ipod is not a way to avoid them. I will try something different next time.

The next day, a crowd of people, obviously campaigning for student government, loomed off in the distance. I looked at a bike rack to my left and grabbed the one bike that was not on a lock. I cruised on toward them, prepared to fight my way through the masses. I made it past the first battalion of flyer-hand-out-ers without a problem. I guess my lightning fast speed on my newly acquired bike was too much for them to handle. I ended up making it through all of them and thought that I had found a way to avoid them. When I got to class, neon green flyers were overflowing from my backpack and out my pockets… somehow they had found a way.

All in all, I ended up trying multiple different ways to avoid the pesky campaigners. I told them things like, “Don’t you know me, I’m running against you,” or “I don’t go to Purdue.” I tried acting completely oblivious while having a conversation with them. I kept asking what position they were running for, what there name was again, where they went to school; anything to annoy them enough to leave me alone. No matter what I did, I ended up with a flyer.

I just want everyone to know that I am not going to vote in the election. I guess I am not practicing my duty as a college student. I just don’t see how the election or student government is that important, considering I hadn’t even heard of student government until last week. I figure they don’t do too much.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Excuse me, could you possible try to chew your food with your mouth a little less open, please?

I just had a lovely conversation with my roommate. I was sitting at my desk, reading my sociology book in studious solitude. He walks in and announces his presence by opening up a bag of cheez-its and engulfing them as loudly as possible. I’ve never been mad at someone for eating food before. This 19 year-old was chewing with his mouth open like a little kid. But I guess I can’t be too mad at him for that because I used to chew with my mouth open… When I was 7.

I thought I could put up with it. It wouldn’t last too long. I mean, no one eats cheez-its for an extended period of time. However, I guess cheez-its was his lunch because he was eating them endlessly.

I was not planning on saying anything to him; no one wants to tell someone as old as a college freshman how to eat their food. However, in my desperation, I had to speak up-

“Hey man, do you think you could close your mouth when you eat?” I asked in a polite, yet business-like tone.

He aggresively responded, “HECK NO!” What could have provoked that response? Maybe he misheard my request; I do mumble and slur my words a lot. “Do you think you could close your mouth when you eat?” could easily be misinterpreted as, “Do you think you could pose as a moth with two feet?” That would seem like an unusual request, but surely anyone would respond with “HECK NO!”

I doubted that he misheard me because I was certain I had spoken clearly, therefore, my frustration with him was justified. My retort to his foul mouth was the most mature thing that any logical person could do- turn my music up to full volume and listen to his least favorite band. That would show him not to disrespect me, and it might drown out the noise of chewing.

My tactics were ineffective. As I cranked up the volume on my speakers, he cranked up the volume on his cheez-its. He searched the box to find a handful of the crunchiest cheese-its of all. He took a swig of water, to make sure that chewing them would make a resounding, especially grotesque, noise loud enough to overpower my speakers.

I felt that if I had said anything, It would not register with him. After responding unhelpful and rude to my simple, polite, request, I learned that he is not capable of listening to others. I could have taken a more mature approach than listening to really loud music, but that would require talking to him. And I don’t think that it would be practical to talk to him; he has already shown defiance toward mature discussions.

Be leery not to offend me. I will retaliate by writing a blog about you that you will never read.

Some people say that bad roommates at least give you good stories. This brings me to the moral of this story. I would rather have good roommates than good stories.

Monday, March 23, 2009


It’s finally March which can mean only one thing. I just don’t know what yet. I have been searching, seeking the cause of this madness. "March Madness." Why March? Why are we so mad? And what provoked such madness? As I always do when in a stupor (not drunken, just confused), I searched the web.

I bet we are mad because of something that happened in the past. It’s only logical. I’ve never been mad about something from the future.

Maybe March Madness stems from the madness associated with the Battle of the Alamo which took place in March of 1836. Back in 1836, Texan soldiers tried to drive out Mexican forces. The Texans held off 2 surges of Mexican troops, but the third surge was too much. All but two Texans died. This might cause the “madness” associated with March. Everyone needs to dress up as Texan revolutionist, sling their muskets over their shoulder, and shout “Remember the Alamo!”

I haven’t seen any Davey Crocketts roaming campus, so I seriously doubt this is why everyone is so mad.

On March 5, 1983, the idolized Animal House star, John Belushi, died. College students throughout the nation were mad that their symbol of drinking and partying had died. Perhaps, in honor of the late John Belushi, everyone gets drunk in March. They get crazy drunk, mad drunk….madness… March Madness!

College students are not the only people who celebrate March Madness, therefore I doubt this is it.

March 15, 44 B.C.. The ides of March. Julius Ceasar was assassinated. And he sure was mad. His final words were condemning his best mate brutus for the literal backstab…”E tu, Bruti!” He sure was mad. He was furious. It was March. That is a prime example of March Madness.

Again I doubt that this is the true madness. No one alive now ever knew Ceasar. And wouldn’t we get over it. Over time, and especially in our nation that so dearly admires democracy, wouldn’t we realize the dangers of having a leader too powerful?

I nearly abandoned my search as fruitless. It seemed as if I may never find the true madness in March. I turned on some depressing music and sat in my room, absolutely distraught, thinking that I would always be left out of the loop. I truly thought that this year I would find the truth. I would be just as educated about March as everyone else seemed to be.

In my darkest hour I heard sounds of the fruit of my labor. It came in the form of a distant argument across the hall. I thought, “Well, these fellows sure sound MAD.” I went to check it out. They were mad at eachother! Arguing about which basketball team was superior. Connecticut had size, but Purdue had talent. While listening to the two people shout at the top of their lungs, I came to the realization that this is what March Madness is all about. It’s a chance to become furious at people, who in any other month would be considered friends, over issues as distant to them as their respect for eachothers’ opinion. Nearly everyone is mad in March. There are 65 teams in the tournament, and one winner. Therefore, there are fans from 64 teams that are mad about the outcome; all but the winner. My soul journey has ended. At long last I had found the truth behind the madness!

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Spring Break: Is It Too Good To Be True?

Three more days until spring break! I think that we are all in agreement that we need a week to relax and escape from the stresses of school. Don’t let loose yet; you can party all you want over spring break. We just need to buckle down for a few more days, followed by a week of relaxation and freedom. Proceeding this is simply grinding out six to seven weeks of quality learning.

My sociology 220 class yesterday was discussing the social problems that go along with spring break. When my teacher mentioned the topic, I wondered where the problem could possibly be. I tried to keep an open mind and find the social problem of spring break. Only then did I find the issue that made it a social problem. It’s not spring yet! It’s 25 degrees today… just 3 days before spring break. There are schools on spring break right now. But it’s still winter.

My professor continued the lecture in a different direction than my imagination. He mentioned the increase of rapes, spread of STD’s, and violent crimes during spring break. I thought that this was obvious, seeing as it is a 7 day party for college students. I was questioning when the learning would take place in this class session.

Then he talked about sociologists’ different views on spring break. One view was why we have spring break in the first place. The schools grant us spring break in hopes to reduce partying and improve grades. There is less partying right before spring break because we all know that all we have to do is work hard up until spring break. Spring break comes around, and we leave campus and go to Florida, Mexico, or anywhere but school. Put differently, we get out of the school’s jurisdiction and party like we’re actually celebrating something. Then we come back to school, eager to learn. On spring break, we aren’t the school’s problem.

It makes sense. The school gives us a break for us to get away and bring our problems, alcohol, and loud music elsewhere. Are we really the ones who get a break or is it the school?

I bet that as soon as we all caravan off to our spring break destinations, the university staff creep out of their offices. They get all dressed up. They dye their gray hair. They pick up their dates. They put in their beach boys cd, and turn up the stereos in their cars and cruise the streets of Purdue without all of these rascal college students. Unbeknownst to us, while we think that we’re having the time of our lives on spring break, the administrators and university staff are probably having more fun than we are.

This had me wondering one more thing. Why do college students party so much? I mean, traditionally, parties are designed for celebration; birthday parties, graduation parties, bar mitzvahs. But seriously, what happens every week that we need to party every weekend; one, two, or even 3 or 4 times. You must have a lot to celebrate. Either that, or your minor accomplishments are exaggerated. “I think I might get an A in this class… lets party tonight!” “I ran all of the way to campus and was not out of breath… let’s party this weekend.” Or, “Hey, we just made it through one difficult week; full of partying and getting wasted… we should let loose and party to celebrate this accomplishment!”

Most of that wasn’t mentioned in my sociology class. However, It seemed distantly relative.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Nice Outfit!

Why do people misinterpret the function of clothes? The function is warmth and to cover up unmentionables. The purpose of clothing has been muddled by pop culture. Merely a little more afoul guidance from the media!

People take clothing as a way to express their “personality.” Personality is who you are beneath the surface. It’s not how you look, or how you dress. So wearing clothes that match your personality is simply saying, “These clothes are my personality. So go ahead and judge me without getting to know me.”

The way you dress is really to appear like someone you aren’t. You generally never dress based on who you are. We’ve all heard the phrase, “dress to impress.” I think that can be restated as, “dress like someone more impressive than you.” People tell me to dress to impress, and I get offended. I thought that I was impressive to begin with.

I started thinking this the other day when I was at walmart with a friend looking for a jacket. I found a really nice, red, plaid jacket, with a gray hood on it. I pointed out to my friend that I was contemplating buying it. He said, “That’s a ‘white trash’ jacket.” And I thought, maybe I could pull off being white trash. Why not? I’m already white, and that’s a start. That’s how I started thinking of how we only dress to be who we aren’t.

People dress for who they want to be. If I wanted to be a rock star, I might wear tight leather pants. Luckily, I don’t want to be a rock star. If I wanted to be a thug, I would wear really baggy clothes and Air Jordans. If I wanted to be a jock, I would wear sweat pants and a letter jacket. But I should probably first start by joining a sport. The point being, you decide how people view you based on the clothing you wear.

The reasons people give for wearing what they do are completely arbitrary. Some people dress because “it’s comfortable,” or “I feel like myself when I wear it.” Well I can be arbitrary about my style also. I want wear something different each day, because each day is different. I want to only wear blue because that’s what color my eyes are. Or I want to wear.

The clothes you wear are completely arbitrary. They should be about function. We all want to save money, so let’s buy cheap clothes. Or, it’s cold out, so let’s get some wintery clothes. Just like how swim suits are for swimming and bathing suits are for bathing?

Then again, clothes might be more than just function. I don’t wear glow in the dark clothes because I plan on going outside tonight. I don’t dress like a kid when I’m watching Disney movies. I don’t dress like a nerd when I’m studying. I guess my style has a room for improvement.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

?sihT daeR uoY naC

Some people say that Pink Floyd played backwards is some sort of satanic message. This got me wondering, what would one of my typical blogs sound like backwards. I've gone ahead and saved you the time by writing this blog backwards. All you have to do is read it. Let me know if it has some hidden message like Pink Floyd does.

.neeb evah thgim ti niaga neht teB .emit ruoy fo etsaw a neeb ton sah sihT

.dren a ton m’I tuB .tfel ot thgir morf etirw I dnA . gnivird nehw emit ssap ot daeh ym ni smelborp arbagla xelpmoc od I .esuorc fo ,ssalc hsilgne reven…ssalc ni derob m’I nehw smordnalap fo kniht I .srebmun eht gnitirw okodus od ot yrt I .efil ym fo stcepsa rehto ot ytilatnem derrefsnart ev’I .timil eht ot flesym gnihsup-egnellach lanosrep a sa ecar yreve dehcaorppa I . kcart dna yrtuoc ssorc nar I . segnellahc dekil syawla ev’I

.yaw gnitseretni na ni tirw ot ediced v’I , yaw gnitseretni na in gnihtemos tuoba gnitirw fo daetsnI . niarg eht tsniaga seog tI .gnitseretni tsuj si tI .uoy gniteserp m’I that noitamrofni lufthgisni eht morf hcum degnahc eb t’now uoy ,eruS ?golb siht fo tniop eht si tahW

.tluciffid yllaicepse si sdrawkcab gnitirW
.cixilsyd ylthgils m’I sa ees ,em rof tluciffid elttil a si sihT

.reisae s’ti ebyam tub ,sdrawkcab llits era srettel ehT .gniticxe si erus tI !erutaretil drawkcab fo dlrow a ot desopxe eb lliw uoy dna rorrim eht otni kooL
.siht ot pu rorrim a dloh si od ot evah uoy lla ,sdrawkcab daer t’nac uoy fI

!noitanimircsid s’that ,dednah thgir ylbaborp saw eH .thgir ot tfel morf etirw
ot dediced ohw ,naem I ,lausunu that ton s’tI .sdrawkcab etirw osla nac I .sdrawkcab gnidaer ot detimil ton m’I tuB .sdrawkcab daer nac I

.flesym tuoba elttil a uoy llet ot si sith dniheb elanoitar ylno ehT .sdrawkcab si golb elohw ehT .elzzup eht tuo derugif uoY !snoitalutargnoC

Monday, March 2, 2009

Mother Nature Breaks It Off With Common Sense; Celebrity Marriages Never Last.

I did not wake up this morning and decide to be in a bad mood. In fact, I stepped out of bed and thought that it would be a good day. I had some delicious waffles for breakfast. I checked my email, and class had been canceled. My agenda for today consisted of going to two easy classes and writing this blog. The outlook looked promising. Today seemed to be predisposed to be one that would go in Guinness’s World Records as “world’s most beautiful day.” And that’s a big deal, seeing how many days there have been in this world.

After packing my bag, I walked out the door to class. That’s when my day took a 180 degree turn in the form of 11 degree temperature, and at least 15 miles per hour winds. Looking outside was deceptive. The sun was shinning, but actually the wind chill was 8 degrees.

If this was January, my response might be something like, “I would expect this of a January in Indiana.” However, since it is March, my response is one of anger and more like, “Unacceptable, mother nature! You can do better than that!”

It’s finally March. I did not know that that meant that I had to still be cooped up inside all day.

Only 16 days until spring. Days like today just make spring seem so distant!

I am sitting in the computer lab right now, but I can’t escape acquiring frost bite from exposure to this winter weather. I guess the heaters were not ready for the cold weather. They were probably as surprised as I was. And to top it off, as soon as I finish this, I will need to venture out into the cold to get to my class. Woe is me!

I think that I can speak for all of us when I say that I’m ready for global warming to kick in. Can’t we deteriorate our O-zone a little bit faster? I would trade indecent amounts of UV exposure for these hellish conditions. To account for uncannily days like today, scientists have actually changed the name from “global warming” to “global climate change.” This was not the type of climate changed that I signed up for when I did my part to pollute our atmosphere!

The root of this blog is this: It is really sad that my day can be ruined by something as miniscule as the weather. I’m never upset for very long. Whenever I am upset about something; whether it be the weather, bad grades, bad food or a headache, I realize how fortunate I am. I may sometimes have to eat bad food, but people are starving throughout the world. I might get an occasional bad grade, but at least I am able to go to college. My head may hurt, but at least I have a head. The weather may be bad…but at least it’s not worse?

No, no matter how hard I try, I can’t manage to feel any better about the weather today.