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update: 02.01.03

What better way to start off the new month than with pictures, yes? After finishing my homework last night, I channelled Cindy Sherman and drifted about the place, photograping the animals of Greenbrier Road. Enjoy!

India, my evil, hissing spawn, has been with me since DC. She endured a psychosomatic skin ailment for the longest time and sat around plucking at her coat by the hour, like a feline Lady Macbeth. However, her brain seems to be healing and she's grown back most of her hair...

Kitty (leave it up to my Pops to come up with a name...) is a real sweetie and we all coo over her. One afternoon my mother and I were coming out of a Long John Silver's when this emaciated creature sprang from the bushes and cried out for food. We gave her a piece of fish, then brought her home. Never forgetting what it was like to be hungry, Kitty eats like a plague of locusts and has grown into a little butterball. Unfortunately, she has feline leukemia...

Most of my friends are familiar with Brandy because she's been around since I was a sophomore in high school. This ol' dawg is so ancient she creaks; whenever she finishes a bag of food we holler "Well, Brandy, you lived through another one!" My Pops is madly in love with her and will probably require antidepressents when she passes.

Waterbug is a prissy, demanding thing and I'd love to drop-kick her just once. Though she is obviously my mother's cat, she doesn't like to be held or given a pat by anyone. She also hates cold weather but enjoys darting between your legs whenever the door opens. My mother, worried that Waterbug will die of exposure, races from window to door begging her to come inside while I sit comfortably on the sofa and shout "Just leave her out there!"

And finally, Lucy is the little demon that terrorizes my mother's store. Rescued from the street outside, she now spends her days menacing glassware and fine furniture. My mother claims that my incessant picking will turn her mean but I say nonsense! She loves it!

.::Rob::.

update: 02.03.03

Addendum to Saturday's Entry:

It seems we now have another cat on our hands; on Saturday night, a ragged kitten appeared on the porch and got roped into the fold. We searched the neighborhood and no one claimed it, so it is here to stay.

At the vet's office, the following exchange occurred:

Vet Tech:
What sex is the animal?
Rob:
Female.
Vet Tech:
Name?
Rob:
Um...how about Butterbean?

Vet Tech examines the animal for a moment.

Vet Tech:
This cat is a male.
Rob:
Fine. Change the name to Butterballs.

.::Rob::.

update: 02.05.03

My physics professor is addled and I can prove it. Beginning with some unsuported supposition or another, he likes to entertain a long rigamarole that takes forty minutes, five blackboards and an aspirin, then end it all with "Wait! That first figure isn't right! That changes everything!" followed by "Oh well, you'll figure it out at home..." Meanwhile, we're paralyzed with horror.

The book, Physics for Scientists and Engineers, is comical too. One problem features a renowned jewel thief being chased across the Brooklyn rooftops by "the cops." Fortunately, he has studied physics and knows how to leap like a gazelle from building to building, always calculating the proper angle for maximum distance. I mean, you got to give it up--his ability to evaluate inverse trigonometric functions while being chased by the fuzz, and with the specter of prison looming in the distance no less, is an impressive one.

Another problem features a runaway baby carriage, hurtling across a treacherous ice floe, straight for the chilly North Atlantic. The problem is accompanied by a dramatic image of the moment just before the carriage (and baby!) plunges into the icy depths. Talk about pressure! If I take the sine of 25 degrees rather than the tangent, that poor child sleeps with the fishes... The real question is just who is the irresponsible parent wheeling their baby along the peaks of an iceberg anyway?

Moving on, I have decided that physics is kind of fun/hideous. On Monday night, we rolled a golfball down the hallway and recorded its time at two, four and six meters respectively, then did an extensive analysis of our results while the professor shouted "Distance is the product of velocity and time!" Fun, eh? Around this time, the Genius proved that his is no misnomer; I am rattled by the way he jumps to (accurate) conclusions fifteen minutes before I understand what is going on, but what are ya gonna do? At least I win when we compete to draw the most realistic sailboats for our vector graphs. I did get an acceptance letter from the Corcoran School of Art, after all.

So that about summarizes my life these days. You go to Bazima to read about sexual tension; you Ghettopimp to read about a bunch of dorks chasing a golf ball with stopwatches and triumphantly shouting "Got it!" when they record the exact moment it crosses the finish line.

.::Rob::.

update: 02.07.03

The Bad News:
I woke up this morning feeling like hell. Well, to be accurate, I woke up at four in the morning feeling like hell and couldn't go back to sleep. I have the flu. I really don't want to go to school but of course I have a paper to turn in. If you dare to email it rather than drop it off in person to that ogre Anthropology professor of mine he gets out his red pen. I mean, come on, it's 2003 already!

The Good News:
I ordered a sweet computer this morning. I can't begin to tell you how long this has been in the coming and I am thrilled. I got a good machine at a good price, a nice monitor a nice printer/scanner combination. I can't wait for it to get here.

.::Rob::.

update: 02.13.03

Finally, I am feeling better. Yesterday I was on the mends but still a little feverish and I had to survive a test in Calc II and Physics. Ech. So anyway...

Flu, Day One:
I shuffle upstairs, feeling like hell and my mother asks "What is the matter with you?!" After I explain the situation to her, she says "Well I hope you're not going to school today!" I have to, I tell her, because I have a paper due and the professor won't accept anything late. Furthermore, if you don't turn in any of your assignments, you fail the class. "Surely if you're sick you can bring it in the next time!" she says. No, no, no, the professor is an ogre. So off to school I go.

When I get home, Taj has sent me an email about the flu epidemic sweeping Kentucky. I hate to be part of a crowd.

Flu, Day Two:
I shuffle upstairs, feeling like hell and my mothers asks "Are you still not better?! Does this mean you're not going to be working today?!" and there is a growing note of panic in her voice. "Mom," I say, "I really feel bad." A long dramatic pause follows and then "Well, stay home and get some rest then." For once, my mother is sympathetic.

I spend the day in bed. In between naps, I study physics and run up and down the stairs checking on the status of my computer order. I also catch an old interview with Jamie Lee Curtis on E! and she is in high dudgeon. "These women who do these infomercials--I would never do that! It's sickening! As if a product could change someone's life! They are selling lies to the public!" Throughout the rant, Jules Asner looks perplexed...

Flu, Day Three:
I shuffle upstairs feeling marginally better and my mother asks "What, you're still not better? Are you planning on staying home again today?!" I convince her that I still don't feel well enough to work and, although she is growing less sympathetic by the moment, I manage to avoid going to the dreaded antique mall this weekend.

I read about Roger Ebert's recollections of making Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.

Until yesterday, the rest of the week followed the same pattern. I woke up in the morning thinking I felt much better, then went to school, began to feel horrible halfway through the day, came home and collapsed on the sofa. Last night, I slept hard and woke up feelin great so it looks like I'm back to normal.

.::Rob::.

update: 02.15.03

My apologies for not updating regularly during the past week. I'm sure you'll excuse me since you know that I not only had the flu, but I also had two ghastly tests and finally received my new computer.

My mother called me as I was driving to school yesterday to tell me that my new machine had arrived. I hurtled home after my last class and began fooling around with the thing. You know how it goes: installing Ethernet cards, copying old hard drives and all this here. I have to say that I am quite pleased with my new machine, and who wouldn't be? I'm working with 2.4 GhZ, 700 and something mbs of RAM and a Pentium 4 processor now and every accessory currently available.

Meanwhile, I'm trapped at my mother's antique store today with customers already getting on my nerves. It looks like things are getting back to normal. Bear with me for a few more days...

.::Rob::.

update: 02.19.03

Sorry about the lack of updates but central Kentucky is frozen solid, school is closed and I'm in my fourth day without power. When I can finally sit in my house without blankets piled on top of me and take a shower, I'll start updating again.

.::Rob::.

update: 02.21.03

I feel like a real pioneer. Although I missed making love to my new machine every night and skirted the edge of depression for awhile, I survived five days without power. Hardcore...

It all began on Saturday evening when freeze fell on the Bluegrass. By the next morning, everything was covered in ice but things weren't looking too bad.

After scraping Bubba, my Pops and I went up to the antique mall. There were a few diehards (AKA dumbasses) out looking for Hull pottery, but we were mostly bored. After snapping a few pictures outside, we left. Unfortunately, two of the roads leading into Lawrenceburg were closed and returning home involved a long, convuluted drive along the Kentucky River and through various hollows. Two hours later, we arrived just in time to watch the the lights flicker, valiantly come back on and then go out entirely.

That first night, we huddled around candles and played Mille Bornes. While all this was going on, it sounded like half the trees in our yard were crashing to the ground and then the entire sky lit up when a transformer blew. To top it off, it was starting to get pretty cold. Looking on the bright side, however, I was able to haunt the house with a glowing candelabra, like something out of Jane Eyre so things weren't so bad.

Being a good farm boy, I went over the hill the next morning with an axe and chopped up firewood. Meanwhile, the trees were groaning under the weight of ice and limbs crashed down around me. Worried that I was about to be knocked out, I got my firewood and went back inside. The fire decided to be difficult and not want to start. I thought "Now if I wasn't interested in a fire the house would go up in flames, but of course while I sit here shivering the damned thing is giving me trouble." However, I finally got it going and curled up to study via firelight.

When I got home yesterday, after five days without power and on my birthday to boot, I found Kentucky Utility crews wandering around the yard. Within a few hours, the power was back on! I was finally able to take a hot shower and then we headed out to Giuseppe's for my birthday feast. Woo-ho!

So that was my adventure. Now if I could only figure out why I only heard from Nick, Katie and Michael on my birthday...

.::Rob::.

update: 2.23.03

I've often told my mother that there must be some sort of feline underground railroad leading to our house--not only do we have four adoptees, but there are also several cats who visit for a daily treat. I figure there is a scent trail of some sort identifying ours as a house of hospitality.

So I'm playing with my machine last night, designing a coaster, when some creature walked up on the porch. "Why, that's an odd looking cat!" I thought. As it moved closer I discovered...

...staring at me. "Now that is not a cat," I declared, and, in a moment when something unexpected happens and you have a camera on standby, I snapped its picture. Afterwards, I decided to sneak a peek at the creature. When I opened the door, it had the nerve to growl at me! Can you imagine?!

Later, I let the dog out and saw the furry beast wandering around the yard with no worries whatsoever. Who knew these creatures moved in and went about their business as if you were the interloper? Brazen! I mean, I was in my underthings...

.::Rob::.

update: 02.25.03

Before we lost power, I prepared a complaint about my Physics class. Since the semester started, I have moved between feeling frustrated and overwhelmed by the class. It is billed as an "advanced general course," whatever that means, and it is challenging.

The first problem is the professor's teaching style. He likes to illuminate a new concept by hurriedly scribbling equations on the blackboard while saying "First you do this, then this, then this and you're all done. It couldn't be simpler!" With no discussion of the underlying theory, that method is little help.

Ok, so no problem, I can learn from a book better than from a lecture anyway. Unfortunately, that leads to the second problem--the book's teaching theory is exactly like the professor's. Half of the information necessary for solving a problem is left out of even the examples. I feel like I've been left to discover the principals of Physics on my own.

So last Wednesday I had two tests, first in Calc II, then Physics. I breezed through the math test and left the room wondering "How can I do so well in that class and then be mystified by Physics?" I thought the second test was easy but I also felt like I was working in the dark. I'm standing on solid ground in Calculus and always know what I'm doing; in Physics, it seems right, but I'm never sure.

The short story is that we got our tests back and I got a 90 on it. Not up to my usual standards but I was happy. I didn't expect to do that well. The good news is that getting an A on the test has bolstered my spirits and I'm more willing to work at the problems now. I guess it's a damned good thing since we're beginning the study of forces working on an object as it moves in three dimensions. To a physicist this may be child's play, but maybe not...according to the book "friction is a complicated, incompletely understood phenomenon."

That applies to the entire field if you ask me.

And now I leave the decision up to you: gorgeous calculus vs. ugly old physics...

.::Rob::.

update: 2.26.03

I finally went to my web design job at the medical society after not being there for nearly three weeks. I have a laissez-faire working arrangement with them--I only work when it suits me and they don't interfere.

When I got to work the infamous Exchange Manager told me that a certain Exchange employee suffered a massive heart attack and was in the ICU of a local hospital.

I hate to say it, but I am not at all surprised. I had been waiting for this day to come. Never in my life have I seen someone with such disregard for their own health. The poor woman had diabetes and heart disease, both brought on by years of smoking, drinking and a steady stream of junk food, and had altered nothing in her lifestyle to accomodate either condition.

One morning she came to work after a trip to the doctor. He told her that her kidneys were nearly shot and he would probably have to put her on dialysis the next time she came in.

"I told him I wasn't getting hooked up to no machine!" she said proudly, then turned a two-liter filled with cherry soda up to her lips. After swallowing, she began coughing heavily.

"My goodness, R------, are you smoking again?" I asked.

"Yes." More hacking.

"But I thought the doctor told you to stop!"

"They've never proved that smoking causes cancer..."

Last year she went to Disney World with another exchange employee. By this time R------ could barely walk across the parking lot without becoming winded and a flight of stairs could wipe her out for half an hour. Knowing that she would never be able to tour the Magic Kingdom on foot, she bought an electric wheelchair. Most people would be horrified by being confined to a wheelchair at forty-five, but she was delighted. All of her vacation photos featured her beaming in between her husband and friend.

"I told them they better try to keep up! My chair can go eight miles an hour!"

So now she's in the hospital and it's touch and go. I feel terrible for her and hope she survives, of course, but I'm not surprised. Apparently she was less than truthful with even her family, assuring them after every doctor visit that everything was fine. In actuality she has a 100 percent blockage in one heart valve, a 75 percent blockage in another and her kidneys are only functioning at 50 percent of their normal level. I hope she's able to pull through this and get herself together afterwards, but even if she makes it I still see her going right back to her old habits.

What motivates someone to be so self-destructive?

.::Rob::.

update: 2.27.03

Usually I view my mother with amusement but every now and then she's just an outright bitch. But then, so am I.

You'll recall that our dog is nearly seventeen years old. To be blunt, she has lost complete control of her bowels at this stage in her life and cannot contain herself. The only way to prevent her from soiling the house is by keeping her outside until she does everything there is to do. This isn't usually a problem, because there is always someone around to let her out every few hours. Of course when my parents go out of town, as they did on Monday morning, that routine changes...

So here I am home alone with an incontinent dog. Yesterday I left home at 8:30, knowing that I wouldn't return until after my last class ended at 7:00. And then it happened--as I was flying along the Bluegrass Parkway my mother called and said she was on her way home.

Call me Cleo. All day long I knew, I just knew I tell you, that there was going to be a commotion. "That bitch is gonna come home and the dog will have made a mess and she will act like it's my fault." I knew it was coming and sure enough it did.

She was bitching as soon as I walked through the door. There were piles all over the place, she claimed. I hadn't let the dog out in days, she claimed. I just stepped over the little mounds like they were landmines, she claimed. For a brief moment I stared at her and considered starting a screaming row. The good news is, I didn't.

"Mom, you're being ridiculous," I said and went about my business.

How is that for an anticlimax?

.::Rob::.

update: 02.28.03

To begin with, I know everyone is upset because of the shortage of Lawrenceburg updates recently here at ghettopimpin.com. Unfortunately, and I know it's hard to believe, nothing is going on! The local paper is full of reports on weather and school closings. Believe me, as soon as some outlandish, cliched hillbilly event happens, you'll be the first to know.

Meanwhile, to continue the school discussion...

There is one boy--we'll call him Big Red, because he is a red-headed buzzard--whom I find particularly annoying. This specimen is in my P&C classes and is also the leader of a study group filled with five of the most annoying creatures on campus. Only Big Red knows anything; the rest of them misunderstand everything in all directions.

Big Red sits near me up to four hours a day and you never saw such seething enmity between two people since Medea had her revenge on Jason. To be fair, I have to give it up, he is much better in Physics than I am; but I could wipe the mathematical floor with him. While he can illuminate such nonsensical concepts as the force applied to a set of tires going around a banked curve, I can tell you everything you ever wanted to know about using trigonometric substitutions in integration. (Hold your applause until the end of the piece please.)

One of the things that annoys me the most about Big Red is that he feels compelled to answer every question the professor poses before anyone else can. I rarely speak in class, but when I do it's usually to correct him. He is also short while I am tall and he is straight while I am fabulous. I know he dislikes me as much as I dislike him...

In between seething about this character, I spend an awful lot of time hanging out with the Genius. We were together for about six hours yesterday and I've decided that he is easily the coolest person I've met in Kentucky. Not only is he The Genius, but he drinks his coffee black. And when we were standing outside the lab the other day he declared "Fuck Physics! I want to go to film school!"

Rob:
You're kidding me, right?
The Genius:
Whaddaya mean?
Rob:
I've never known anyone besides myself who would move from engineering to film school.
The Genius:
Yeah, well, there are a lot of things I'd like to study.
Rob:
Who are you telling? I could spend the rest of my life buried in a textbook...

I think I've made a friend. He waits for me every day so we can walk down the hall together...his GPA is in line with mine...we spent a happy hour in the Physics lab working an equation to death...he looked over my Physics labs and didn't laugh...he knows what cinema verite is...he loves Bjork...and he's straight.

No, this will not degenerate into another unrequited love series, trust me. We are all tired of that--I like him a lot as a person, that's it. And I find it particularly amusing that he referred to me today as the "Mathematical Genius." I wonder if he has his own site buried away on the web, where he uses titular aliases to refer to his friends and I don't even know about it? Why, he could be blogging "I met the coolest person in my Calculus class and I think I'll call him The Genius!" and I wouldn't even know it. I'd better Google him...

.::Rob::.