I don't have time to drink (being a serious graduate student and everything), but I do like to invent drinking games, which I fully plan on playing during my college years when I am reincarnated. This is one of those games.

Tremors 2: Aftershocks--The drinking Game.

This game is quite simple, and the rules are easy.

1) Procure a copy of Tremors 2: Aftershocks and at least two bottles of Aftershock (A horrible Cinnamon Liqueur).

2) Those watching the film break up into two teams, one rooting for the Graboids, the other rooting for the humans.

3) Each time a Graboid kills a human, each member of the Graboid team passes out a shot to whichever member of the human team they so choose. And vice versa for the human team.

4) Optional Rule: Each time Michael Gross makes a witty comment, (e.g., "I am completely out of ammo.") each person takes a shot.

5) Please do not be a moron and drive home after this game. Instead, stay and throw up in your friend's bathroom.

Yeah this is childish and immature. I could care less--this game would be fun in the right crowd (or if I were 9 years younger).

I began "officially" packing for my move on August 5th. On that date, I will have lived in this house for exactly one year. Amazing how time flies--even more amazing how many changes I have gone through in the past year. I am calmer and happier than I have been in a long time. The East Coast was rubbish (except for a few wonderful friends who made my life there much more bearable) and I feel as though the Midwest is where I belong, for now at least.

Soon I will begin the process of packing away my life into Rubbermaid containers and banana boxes, throwing out items I once believed I had a use for, and thinking about all the times I've shared with my roommates. We have had our share of ups and downs, but I believe this experience was beneficial. I'll never again attempt living with multiple individuals who are almost ten years younger than me, but I do have a few good stories to share about my time in this house.

For instance, there is a bit of dried silly string clinging to the ceiling above my bed. Gross, to be sure, but that silly string serves as a reminder that this house was once occupied by five female ultimate frisbee players. Who knows how that silly string found itself on the ceiling, and who knows how long it has been there--all I know is that when I take a nap in the afternoon, I always stare at the blue patch and say to myself, "I should really clean that shit up." However, I am fully aware that I will never drag a ladder up here to actually complete that task.

Then there's the shower in the upstairs part of this house. It has fish grippy-things in it, to keep drunk people from falling and cracking their heads open. The fish are smiling like imbeciles and blowing bubbles, yet they serve a noble purpose. When I was having severe vertigo, I used to stare at them and thank them for keeping me alive. (In case you didn't know, vertigo can be a real bastard while one is taking a hot shower.) When the dizziness overcame me, I would focus on one of the large fish until the shower stopped spinning. I'm going to miss those fish.

Then there's the case of beer in the basement. There are at least seven different types of beers in this case, all of which are dusty and skunked--yet no one ever thinks to throw the case of beer away. It just sits under the stairs, like the Tin Soldier from the Eugene Field poem "Little Boy Blue," waiting for someone to come play with them as the world slowly changes around them. These are the beers that time forgot, and they were delivered to my house by my major professor shortly after I moved into the house. She brought them over one day when she was helping her daughter clean out her house, and when a roommate opened the door, rather than me, my major professor carded him to make sure she was not giving beer to a twenty-year-old college student. (Then again, she is a police commissioner.)

I could go on, but I feel as if I may end up channeling The Barenaked Ladies Song, "The Old Apartment."

*sigh*

This place is not all that bad. Still, I am a grown man and I need my own space. Just ask Virginia Woolf--she'll tell you that everyone needs a room of their own.

So it is July 3rd, and I am one of two people int he Sociology department. Megan and I are both transcribing cases for our major professors--and we are the only people who decided to come in today. Hell, the university is closed today, which made it impossible for me to work out this morning. Instead, I watched half a season of Entourage, while packing up my room. I move in 33 days.

So that's it...I'm boring. Hope you all are well.

Today was my last session with my counselor. She is moving on in a week, and hopefully, so am I. We talked about the past ten months and what I've accomplished/learned, and I do feel a true sense of satisfaction. In the time I have been talking to her, I worked out my fears about returning to Purdue after a year-long hiatus, my Prelim fears, motivation issues, dealing with the members of my department who were less than pleased to see me again, and new ways of dealing with public humiliation and disdain.

Throughout this process, I learned how to deal with individuals I feel have slighted me, as well as those who simply do not like me. New methods of responding to sarcastic/angry remarks are currently employed, by me, on a daily basis. I hope that these lessons do not fade with time. Further, I learned that my offhand remarks are a maladaptive strategy for coping with others who do not especially like me.

Overall, I have made massive gains in dealing with issues on my own, looking for internal justifications for my successes and failures, in an attempt to improve myself on a fundamental level. I am grateful for everything I have learned, and I am a bit sad to see this relationship end, but I must begin to take action on my own, rather than relying on others to catch me every time I fall and receive a slight bump. These past ten months have been extremely difficult, but now I must stand taller, roll with harder punches, and turn to my friends when I need support. I can no longer rely on counseling to "fix" my daily anxieties.

I look to the future with hope that I may continue on this path, and that any obstacles I encounter will be dealt with as they approach; rather than knocking me off my feet. This is the only way I will be able to continue to grow into the man I am supposed to be.

So I bought tickets to the No Doubt/Paramore concert on July 10th (they were only $10!), and now I'm having a bit of buyer's remorse. You see, No Doubt ruined The Rolling Stones show I went to about seven years ago. They were playing that "Hey Baby" shit, and I absolutely wanted to walk out after I threw up in my mouth a little bit. However, I have always wanted to see Paramore, as Hayley Williams is a very talented singer, and she is even better doing acoustic songs. Also a friend of mine int he department asked me to go, and I'd like to get to know her a little better. She and I talk from time to time and she seems very nice and intelligent. I could use more friends like that in my life.

But when I think of Gwen Stefani and her way of ruining one of the greatest rock shows I had ever seen, I just...I mean...it was...oh fucksocks, I can't even imagine how I'm going to make it through that part of the show.

Well, either way, I hope Paramore is amazing.

I've been away for a couple of days...ever since my major professor told me I am going on the job market this coming Fall.

So yeah, the two years deadline to finish my PhD has been cut in half. I spent about 25 hours on campus since Friday, coding father cases. As of tomorrow, I will have finished 74/129 dad cases. That means I am well over halfway to my goal.

This is a terrifying prospect--in a little over a year, I might have a teaching job (somewhere in the US), and I will be Dr. Steinhour.

Holy flaming carbines, this is the real deal!

So I lost my wallet two nights ago. I have no idea where it is, but I spent all day yesterday dealing with the fallout from that SNAFU. I still have to drive back to IL to get a new driver's license, but I am pretty much broke right now, due to a payroll glitch (because I needed more to worry about right now.)

So yeah, I'm not much for talking or responding a lot right now. I'll be back tomorrow or soemthing (Hell, maybe even tonight), but I gotta get back to work--all these kicks to the head have set me back in my dissertation work.

Today was a very odd day--and I'm not sure what I think of it yet.

To kick things off, my vertigo is back. I awoke this morning with a cloudy head; meaning my thoughts were semi-resent, but I felt drained and unable to "think" at a higher level. I knew right away where I was headed, and my worst fears were slowly realized as the day progressed. I ended up staying in bed until 9:45 (which is usually the time I roll into my office), and then I slowly showered and made my way to school. I didn't even arrive on campus until after 11.

After filling out my time card (I'm paid hourly on my major professor's grant this summer), and then I left campus to order a special birthday cake for a good friend of mine. Thankfully my friend Dan drove, as I nearly collapsed when climbing into his SUV. Upon our arrival at the ice cream shop, we found out that they do not open until noon, so we were stuck with nothing to do for a bit. While we were waiting, my major professor's son called me to inform me that he was locked out of the house, so we went to let him in (pet sitters often have keys to many house, and I am no exception).

After that, I returned to school to show a video for a friend of mine in his class. During the video, I felt ill and out of place (and maybe even time), another sign of vertigo. When class ended, I nearly fell down the stairs and decided to go home and go to bed. Bed always helps with my vertigo.

When I arrived home, a nasty surprise awaited me--the bill for my MRI has come due...and the insurance company is stalling. So now I supposedly owe $4000+ in the next two weeks. I don't have that kind of money, so I called the hospital, and after 30 minutes on hold, I gave up. I then called the insurance company and after another 30 minute wait, I gave up. I guess I'll have to take care of this on Wednesday, as I have a massive meeting ont he grant tomorrow with my research group.

Tonight I went out for Movie Monday, where two friends and I get together, cook dinner, and watch a movie. Tonight we had baked ziti and watched Disney's Beauty and the Beast...which I have never seen before. The film and the dinner were both good, but I had another attack of vertigo as well as an attack of eye strain.

So today had some ups, but mostly downs. I am now going to bed, hoping to not have to deal with nightmares on top of everything else.

This morning I awoke to a nice, cool room--thanks to my air conditioner. Even though it was muggy outside, I took one of my favorite dogs for a walk. Around 11, a friend and I took a hike in a state park, being sure to say hello to every tiny frog we saw on the path. Then we went for iced tea and crepes at a favorite coffee shop.

Following the fun, I worked out for well over an hour at the gym, and then I spent three or so hours transcribing a dad case.

Now I'm sitting at home on my porch swing, surrounded my lightening bugs, sipping a glass of merlot, and pondering my next move.

I have no complaints.

I do enjoy gently rocking back and forth on my porch swing and watching a thunderstorm pass through this sleepy little college town. Flashes of lightening keep my spirits up, while almost continuous claps and rolls of thunder provide a soundtrack to this summer past-time. There is little in life that compares to these peaceful moments.

This reminds me that I need a lightening avatar.

I just read Captain America #600, and those in charge are up to their old tricks again. Captain America Reborn begins with the very next issue.

This all saddens me. As a long-time fan of Cap, I was very sad when he died, but I always knew there would be a resurrection arc, which often cheapens and invalidates the entire character (except in the cases of Green Lantern and Green Arrow).

How much do these bullshit arcs cheapen a comic? The damage is almost immeasurable. The post-death arcs are all cheap carbon copies of stories which were amazing the first time, but cannot ever be repeated with the same impact. It's like having the best sex of your life so drunk that you don't even remember who you were with at the time, preventing you from repeating the original act.

And that's my not-so-humble opinion.

I went to the gym for over an hour today. It felt good. After three or so weeks of being a lazy-ass, I feel that I have accomplished something as of today. Even if it was just 40 minutes of cadio and a couple of machines, I think I could get used to this again...and I went with a friend of mine, so that was added motivation.

Go me!

Yesterday I tried to go to campus and work, but instead I felt ill and not at all motivated. I decided to give up and go home, to sleep off the creeping sickness. As it turns out, a six hour nap helped to curb the swimming head feelings and the nausea, but it did little for getting my work finished.

So I did nothing yesterday but sleep. It felt good, I guess.

Today, I am meeting an old friend for lunch, transcribing an interview or two, and writing up case summaries for a Dissertation meeting tomorrow.

I have little of interest to say...I did see the ex DC today. She complained about how bored she was and how she wanted something to do. I ignored her. Had I said much more than a simple "hello," I would have been forced to be honest with her. I don't think she can handle my honesty right now. I would have to point out the fact that I do not wish to be an "alternative" to boredom; nor do I wish to make plans she has no intention of keeping.

I'm going to be more honest with people in the near future--knowing full well that I will have to deal with fewer people. Why? Well, people claim to want honesty, but we know that is complete and utter bullshit. I bet less than 20% of the population actually wants people to tell them the truth. I'll be returning to this topic in the near future.

This is a long post, and I'm not sorry. It has been a while since I've written something this substantial.

( In which I discuss life, love, zombies, and women named Sarah. )
And this is true and accurate. This is fucking insane.

So yeah, I turn 31 in a month and a half.  If these dreams continue, I might not be able to sleep between now and then. I guess if I go insane, I'll have an excuse for not celebrating my birthday...

I am not quite finished wrapping up my first 80 hour week on campus (since my Prelims), and I must say that I don't enjoy it. I have been eating the strangest foods just to keep myself alive (peanut butter on a spoon with dried cranberries), I come down with a severe case of eye strain by 5:00 PM almost every day (just like today), and I would sort of like to have some fun in my life...

BUT, I must finish my PhD (eventually), because Purdue won't let me live here. I know; I asked.

So I continue to work--that is the only option.

I don't know if I will have a social life after this all ends, but one thing is for sure: I won't meet a woman when I'm trapped in an 11' by 6' room that is often over 90 degrees during the heat of the day...

So far this week I have spent more time on campus than off campus. No joke. This week and next week will be quite rough, as I have a lot of work to do and I must cram it all into a small amount of time.

Speaking of, I have a major meeting today at 2 PM, and I must finish listening to 5 interviews before said meeting. I'll be on campus again after that (likely until midnight or later), so hopefully I can catch up with all my LJ friends.

Also, I think I mentioned that my father passed his kidney stone, but if not, this is my official mention: he will not need surgery. (After a week such as this, I cannot remember half of what I said or even who I said it to.) :P

On a sad note, Iwill be missing an art fair near Indy this weekend, due to the work piling up for me. I really wanted to go, and I also wanted to meet my friend Kimber's friend, who happens to be an amaxzing artist. Oh well, I guess there will be a next time or something...

Hope you are all well.

So here I sit, working in my major professor's office, wishing I could be anywhere else at this exact moment. I am making a copy of the last tape I need to provide to the other researchers...and it feels pretty darned good. I also realized that when I began transcribing, I sucked at my job. I may need to go back and re-transcribe a few of the early interviews.

After this copy is finished, I have to transcribe two parts of one interview, and half of another interview. Then (and only then) I can go home.

I greatly look forward to that time.

My father went to the hospital today due to some problems he has had passing kidney stones. Two days ago, he collapsed suddenly in the field (my father is a farmer), due to a sudden and explosive pain in his abdomen. Since my mother and grandmother were in Michigan for the weekend, he had to drive himself to the hospital, stopping at red lights to get out of the car and throw up. People stopped to ask him if he needed any help, and he explained that he was driving himself to the hospital. After a 6 hour wait and an MRI, the doctors told him he had kidney stones. Seeing as he already knew this, he was less than impressed. Yesterday he passed one of them, but today he was feeling worse than he had felt at the onset. Now it appears that if he cannot pass the stone(s) tomorrow, doctors may have to operate.

I am sad for my father. He is a tough, independent kind of guy, who just wants to finish planting his crops (which has been delayed greatly by torrential downpours), yet he is forced to lie in bed, drugged up beyond belief. I just wish he could finish planting, so that he can move on to other things. Further, since he refuses help from almost anyone, his health problems of late have caused him even more problems. Unlike me, my father shuns the idea of outward expressions of pain.

I am working on my 11th hour on campus today...and I still have at least 2 more to go. I must dub some tapes of the interviews I'm using for my dissertation so that other researchers can listen to them and code the same cases. We must have inter-coder reliability!!!

That being said, the entire analytic scheme of the qualitative section of my dissertation was changed at 4:30 PM today. This change was for the best, but it has left me weary, dreary, and other words that I cannot think of at the moment.

I hope you all are well. I have a million things to say, but less than no time to say them. Be well.

I'm being kicked out of my office on campus. Anyone not teaching loses their desk, so by this Friday I must vacate. Sadly this office has been mine for about 3 years, and losing it is like saying goodbye to a close friend. Matters are further worsened by my final destination. I am moving into an office the size of a high school locker--with two other graduate students--where I will continue to transcribe until I go insane.

Fun times for everyone.