At A Disadvantage

Anyone who has taken a standardized test in the last say, fifteen years knows what a Scantron is. This convenient sheet allows tests to be graded very rapidly and very efficiently. The problem is, when they designed these, they didn't think about the effects that it would have on people like me.

You see, when any serious test is given using these (SAT, ACT, I imagine the MCAT, LSAT, and GRE as well), the person proctoring the exam has to read instructions on how to fill out one of these. They tell you how you need to fill out the bubble completely, darkly, and within the lines. This is something that I would have done with or without the instruction. The point of this is, it take A LOT of time. I would say out of most tests that I take, a solid 25% of the time I am filling in those ridiculous bubbles; carefully tracing the ring, meticulously filling in the center so there is no spill-over. And don't get me started on when I have to erase.

Scantron, I think you are an amazing product. You truly have revolutionized testing. But though I think you are amazing, me and all the other people in the world who might happen to only leave the radio and thermostat on certain numbers, who reload the dishwasher almost every time they start it to make sure everything is in just the right place, who automatically straighten their shot glasses when they are put into the rack off center, we hate you. Curse the day you were created.

In Your Little Corner

Really everywhere you go these days you see iPods. Just about everyone has one. Except the "uncool" people who have some other mp3 player. And me.

Years ago I formed a bias against the iPod. It made me upset that you couldn't change anything on it without hooking it up to a computer. You couldn't use it with anything but iTunes. And I think for a while you had to use their special headphones for a while (though I might be wrong about that). Whatever the reason, I never bought one.

Now I see them everywhere. I see them at the gym, all around campus, everywhere really. But a lot of the time I think, "What if I wanted to talk to that person?" I mean, what if I had an iPod and I missed out on meeting someone awesome that couldn't talk to me because of my iPod.

I might buy one sometime. I do love the Tower Madness game. And Words With Friends. But as far as music goes, I think I will keep the one pair of headphones I own in that cluttered box tucked away. And if you want to talk to me I would love to talk. Unless you're weird of course.

Feeling Like Less of a Man

There are a few things in life that guys are inherently proud of. One of these is the ability to eat. A lot.

Thus came the food challenge. Eat some disgusting amount of food, just because we can, and we'll put a picture of you or the wall or something. Somehow, I had made it to this point in my life without ever competing in one of these.

A few weeks ago Tom found a pizzeria that had a twenty-four inch pizza challenge. Two guys (or girls I guess. gross.) have one hour to eat it. Yesterday I decided I was hungry. So I sent Tom a message telling him it was the night to own this challenge. The problem began with a four hour lapse in the time it took for my phone to send a message to his phone. So he ate quite a bit around four. And when I got home around five, I was starving. So I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And then a salami and gouda sandwich on a hoagie roll. But it was only a twenty-four inch pizza, right?


I think we might have underestimated it. I might have been able to finish my half, uncomfortably, but luckily Tom was a little further behind. With a little less than a quarter of the pizza left, we tapped out. It was a little humiliating to both of us. Though I can deal with that. What I am not happy about is having to go back and eat the whole thing again sometime. But that picture on the wall will be mine.

A Little More Gas

I moved into my current house August 15th. Tom and I lived there for about a month alone, without any real problems. Jeffrey moved in about that time and started complaining that he had no hot water. Though it occasionally wasn't super hot for me, I didn't really think it was a problem. So after looking at the water heater one day, realizing I couldn't see the pilot light, and clicking the button a few times, I left it alone. However, the new roommates moved in this week, turned the a/c down fifteen degrees, and my shower was very cold suddenly. I knew that they hadn't showered for hours so I thought about it more that day.

About two in the morning last night Jeffrey and I took a look at the water heater. I discovered shortly that I could see the pilot light if I slid this little piece of metal over. Then I made the discovery that if I moved the little dial to "on" instead of "pilot" a lot more fire came out.

This morning the shower was just a little better.

Wounds That Never Heal

No I'm not talking about a love lost in my life!! I'm actually talking about my foot. My senior year of high school I suddenly couldn't walk anymore on my right heel. Apparently the repeated kicking close of my shower door had stress fractured my heel. And it really hurt. This pathetic looking, almost invisible line on an x-ray. I wore a boot for three weeks and gel pads for the rest of football season.

The problem is, it has never really healed. So here I am eight years later and still my heel occasionally bothers me. I can also say this about my numb lip from jaw surgery, or forehead from the motorcycle accident. But I suppose sometimes it's a good idea to have little memories of what we've been through.