I'm a nerd. I look like a vampire because I spend my days in the library crying about how much I hate chemistry. My arms are little more than limp noodles from a bowl of Campbell's reduced fat chicken noodle soup. So when the following happens, I die a little inside.
It's happened to everyone: Walking along, minding your own business, the birds are chirping, the sky is blue, the grass is green (assuming we're on Earth where grass isn't jacked up). All of a sudden, an object of sporty origin - it could be a frisbee, baseball, football, etc. - arcs a little bit too far from someone's grasp, and lands right in front of you. From here, you are presented with several options. You could:
1) Keep on walking, and act like you didn't see the object, or that you're in too much of a hurry to stop and return it to the person. This will make you look like a total tool.
2) Pick up the object and walk it back to the person. This option is very safe, but people will think you are weird and/or laugh at your inability to throw anything more than three feet away from yourself.
3) Pick up the object and attempt to throw it back. Depending on your strength, dexterity, and confidence levels, there may be a chance the object will land gracefully in the receiver's hands.
This recently happened to me. A football happened to land near me on my way back from the library. (It was a Saturday, I really need a life) Anyway, I made the mistake of stopping to see a frat boy waving "HEY BRO OVER HERE. BRO!" Dread hit me like a brick wall. I picked up the football - there goes option number 1. I could make the walk of shame, but he was really REALLY far away. Like more than ten feet away - the odds of me throwing it and escaping with some dignity were less than that of Annakin blowing up the Death Star. I opted out of option 2, leaving only option 3. I was going to throw that football.
As soon as I decided on this, I realized the error in my decision. I can't throw anything except maybe my back out. And the wind was blowing kind of hard...chances are the football would blow off course and hit someone in the face...and my backpack was on - I can't throw with my backpack on, my genetics book weighed as much as a small child! As I mentioned earlier, strength as well as dexterity and confidence levels wigh very heavily on this option. Initially, my confidence was the only thing going for me. At this point, it was long gone...but the frat boy was waiting. My eyes met his - he really wanted his ball back. I really wanted him to get it back without me looking like an idiot. Despair consumed me. I grimaced and brought my arm back, then grotesquely hurled it forward as if it were a ramshackle medieval catapult. The moment of truth had arrived.
Like a dying bird flapping its last, the ball spun out of control and landed about ten feet away from its intended destination. "Uhhhh thanks" said the frat boy as he retrieved his prize. I muttered something casual and bro-like but hurried away to the refuge of my dorm room.
In conclusion, who needs to be coordinated? I consider being uncoordinated an ability to be proud of as well, kind of like being left handed.
Who am I kidding. I've got chemistry to do.
Cam
Friday, April 1, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Going Up
We've all experienced it. For some people it may have been uncomfortable. Some may have found it quite pleasant. Most find it forgettable. What is "it"? An elevator ride of course! The reason for this post (after my recent dry spell which I apologize for friends) is to discuss rides up and/or down in those metal hellholes humans invented after stairs went out of style. I live on the 18th floor of my building, so I thought I could share some of my personal elevator stories with you dear readers.
Where Do You Think You're Going?
After a long Friday night of...studying...(Hi mom) I enter my building and head to the elevator. The doors open and I step in, hitting 18. A deep sigh reminds me of just how tired I really am, the sweet siren song of my Tempur-Pedic pillow within 18 stories of vertical distance. Just as the doors are about to close, a hand bedazzled with rings that clearly came from the dollar store intrudes into my private little box. The hand is soon joined by its body - a sad sight for my current sleepy state. It was a sorority girl coming home from a party, the dress requirements of which appeared to be a cross between Hannah Montana teeny-bopper and KE$HA white trash. The only thing more annoying than her general presence was the smacking of her gum and the way she talked to the poor soul on the other end of her Blackberry.
"HEY *SMACK* HEY *SMACK* LAUGH OUT LOUD! GIRL HOLD ON OKAY? *smack* OKAY? OH EM JEE SHUT UP? *smack* NO I'M IN THE ELEVATOR. *smack* NO NOBODY'S IN HERE BITCH! HAHAHAHA *snort/laugh* HOLD ON GIRL HOLD UP." She then turns to me and asks "HEY MAN IS THIS GOING UP OR DOWN?" Keep in mind we were clearly on the ground floor of the building...The elevator even says: "Floor one, going up!" every time the door opens. Despite it being such a late hour, my sense of humor remained intact. Plus I felt like being a smart-aleck. My ensuing response was, "Sorry but this one's going down...to hell!"
Let's just say she didn't get the joke.
Room For One More
I was heading out for the evening from my 18th floor nest. The elevator came and I was greeted by a lift PACKED with people. My immediate hesitation must have been evident as the lift's occupants all shouted "Hey man, you can fit come on! We'll just squeeze a little tighter!" I begrudgingly accepted their invitation. As soon as the doors closed I regretted the stupidity of the situation.
Every time I exhaled it was as if I were getting to second base with the 8 people surrounding me. Yes, it was that packed; you could say I envied sardines. Then someone exclaimed: "Guys guys guys...Everybody jump on the count of three!" Fortunately a girl that was hyperventilating in the back corner suggested that this may not be the best course of action. Unfortunately no one cared about what the stupid girl with the brown bag said. "One..." My life begins to flash before my eyes. "Two..." I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel blooming in the distance. "Three!" I close my eyes and fresh air surrounds me. Oh God, have I really died surrounded by idiots? That's when I realize the clean air of heaven is actually the AC coming through the elevator doors open on the first floor. People quickly file out of the elevator with looks of disappointment on their faces, sad to have missed out on the thrill of potentially plummeting to their deaths. I merely make a note to myself:
"There isn't always room for one more after all."
The Four Loko Factor
Before I can start this story, I need to give a quick lesson on Four Loko for those who are lucky enough not to know about it. Four Loko is an excruciatingly disgusting beverage - half malt liquor and half energy drink. It's as if a frat boy thought "Huh, I wonder what would happen if I took the depressive effects of cheap alcohol and combined them with a disgusting stimulant such as those found in cheap sugary energy drinks." Whereas a frat boy may not have followed through with such an idea, Phusion Projects Incorporated did. Four Loko is now banned in several areas across the United States, as college campuses from coast to coast were experiencing alarming increases in hospitalization due to alcohol related incidences connected to the beverage.
Now that you know what it is, on with the show! It was a dark and stormy night when the following events transpired and well past the witching hour. Actually the weather was kind of nice, but since this took place on Halloween I thought I could set the scene nicely. I was returning from a midnight snack of pumpkin pancakes at a 24/7 café down the street. I'm waiting for the elevator when in comes two guys. It's safe to say they were coming from a nearby Halloween party, as one was dressed as a banana, and the other a gorilla. (Not very original, but I'll give them an A for effort) Both were clutching cans of Four Loko. As we waited they asked me to be their timekeeper. I didn't really know what they were talking about, but I absentmindedly agreed. As soon as I started counting aloud, they popped the tops to their cans and CHUGGED. Now let me tell you - Four Loko cans are big. And potent. And should not be chugged in 6 seconds like these guys did. After high fives and chest bumps are exchanged we step into the elevator At floor 12, banana suddenly gets silent. At floor 13, he pokes his head into his suit. At floor 14, he vomits...a lot. At floor 17, the vomit starts leaking out of his suit creating a sickening pool of blue raspberry flavored puke that smells an awful lot like death. Thankfully I escaped in time to here his gorilla buddy following suit. I didn't need to see what the green apple flavor looked like on its second trip through his esophagus.
And that's how I got to see two guys dressed up as a banana and a gorilla throw up rainbows.
In other news, thanks for reading this...And sorry for posting at such an inexcusable rate. I've been busy doing stupid stuff like being responsible and growing up. My apologies dear readers.
<3 Cam
Where Do You Think You're Going?
After a long Friday night of...studying...(Hi mom) I enter my building and head to the elevator. The doors open and I step in, hitting 18. A deep sigh reminds me of just how tired I really am, the sweet siren song of my Tempur-Pedic pillow within 18 stories of vertical distance. Just as the doors are about to close, a hand bedazzled with rings that clearly came from the dollar store intrudes into my private little box. The hand is soon joined by its body - a sad sight for my current sleepy state. It was a sorority girl coming home from a party, the dress requirements of which appeared to be a cross between Hannah Montana teeny-bopper and KE$HA white trash. The only thing more annoying than her general presence was the smacking of her gum and the way she talked to the poor soul on the other end of her Blackberry.
 |
| This is a good reference pic. |
Let's just say she didn't get the joke.
Room For One More
I was heading out for the evening from my 18th floor nest. The elevator came and I was greeted by a lift PACKED with people. My immediate hesitation must have been evident as the lift's occupants all shouted "Hey man, you can fit come on! We'll just squeeze a little tighter!" I begrudgingly accepted their invitation. As soon as the doors closed I regretted the stupidity of the situation.
 |
| Nooooo! |
"There isn't always room for one more after all."
The Four Loko Factor
Before I can start this story, I need to give a quick lesson on Four Loko for those who are lucky enough not to know about it. Four Loko is an excruciatingly disgusting beverage - half malt liquor and half energy drink. It's as if a frat boy thought "Huh, I wonder what would happen if I took the depressive effects of cheap alcohol and combined them with a disgusting stimulant such as those found in cheap sugary energy drinks." Whereas a frat boy may not have followed through with such an idea, Phusion Projects Incorporated did. Four Loko is now banned in several areas across the United States, as college campuses from coast to coast were experiencing alarming increases in hospitalization due to alcohol related incidences connected to the beverage.
Now that you know what it is, on with the show! It was a dark and stormy night when the following events transpired and well past the witching hour. Actually the weather was kind of nice, but since this took place on Halloween I thought I could set the scene nicely. I was returning from a midnight snack of pumpkin pancakes at a 24/7 café down the street. I'm waiting for the elevator when in comes two guys. It's safe to say they were coming from a nearby Halloween party, as one was dressed as a banana, and the other a gorilla. (Not very original, but I'll give them an A for effort) Both were clutching cans of Four Loko. As we waited they asked me to be their timekeeper. I didn't really know what they were talking about, but I absentmindedly agreed. As soon as I started counting aloud, they popped the tops to their cans and CHUGGED. Now let me tell you - Four Loko cans are big. And potent. And should not be chugged in 6 seconds like these guys did. After high fives and chest bumps are exchanged we step into the elevator At floor 12, banana suddenly gets silent. At floor 13, he pokes his head into his suit. At floor 14, he vomits...a lot. At floor 17, the vomit starts leaking out of his suit creating a sickening pool of blue raspberry flavored puke that smells an awful lot like death. Thankfully I escaped in time to here his gorilla buddy following suit. I didn't need to see what the green apple flavor looked like on its second trip through his esophagus.
And that's how I got to see two guys dressed up as a banana and a gorilla throw up rainbows.
In other news, thanks for reading this...And sorry for posting at such an inexcusable rate. I've been busy doing stupid stuff like being responsible and growing up. My apologies dear readers.
<3 Cam
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Machines and Stupid People
We live in a world of ever changing technology and -
Well I'll just skip the deep and insightful introduction regarding man and machine and get right to the point. Our story begins on a chilly January 19th, 2009. Los Angeles native Lauren Rosenberg decided to take a stroll through the park. Unfortunately for Ms. Rosenberg, who was visiting Utah at the time, the area was relatively unfamiliar. That's when she made the mistake...the mistake that almost cost Lauren HER LIFE.
You see dear reader, Lauren Rosenberg used Google Maps to get walking directions from 96 Daly Street to 1710 Prospector Avenue. What seemed like an innocent inquiry for help from a machine was really a diabolical plot to end Ms. Rosenberg's life...or that's what her lawyer tried to convince the judge. You see, Google Maps directed her to take a 1/2 mile section Deer Valley Drive, which is a part of Utah State Route 224...a highway that lacks sidewalks...on foot. A sensible person would use their brain and reconsider the proposed route when approaching a BUSY HIGHWAY WITHOUT SIDEWALKS WHEN THEY ARE IN FACT ON A WALK; Laure Rosenberg proved to the world she is not a sensible person.
This is when Patrick Harwood enters our story. You see, Mr. Harwood and Ms. Rosenberg's paths crossed when Harwood struck Rossenberg on the very same highway Google Maps instructed Rosenberg to walk on. She proceeded to sue the driver of the vehicle for an undisclosed amount and Google for $100,000 because of the company's provision of "unsafe" directions.
After writing this and rereading it, I still have to shake my head and wonder about this woman's thought process. What really struck me was that there had to be more cases like this out there, involving man's complete and undying trust in the technology they are supposed to be master of. Another simple example is a British man who drove his BMW onto a road that was clearly designated as unpaved, damaged it, and demanded the damages paid because it was not his fault - the GPS made him do it. After really thinking about it, most of us have probably done something similar. For example, I can't even do simple arithmetic without relying on a calculator anymore. And how many times tried viewing your favorite show on DVR only to have the last five minutes cut out? The DVR isn't at fault, it just followed the time slots you as a viewer set; yet still it faces our wrath.
The moral of this story should be pretty clear. Technology is a useful tool and all, but it must always be used in conjunction with human reason.
Well shoot so much for not sounding deep and insightful!
Cam
Well I'll just skip the deep and insightful introduction regarding man and machine and get right to the point. Our story begins on a chilly January 19th, 2009. Los Angeles native Lauren Rosenberg decided to take a stroll through the park. Unfortunately for Ms. Rosenberg, who was visiting Utah at the time, the area was relatively unfamiliar. That's when she made the mistake...the mistake that almost cost Lauren HER LIFE.
 |
| One day technology will own you and everything you hold dear. |
 |
| Would you trust this little guy over common sense? |
The moral of this story should be pretty clear. Technology is a useful tool and all, but it must always be used in conjunction with human reason.
Well shoot so much for not sounding deep and insightful!
Cam
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