Sending out resumes requires printing resumes. Since my printer was out of ink, it was therefore time to get more ink. That's simple enough, but it was still frustrating as all hell to get it done.

The first problem was that I have a photo printer. Although my resume, cover letter, and writing sample are all completely in black, my printer refused to print anything at all because it said that it was out of several shades of color ink. I didn't see how that mattered, but the fucking thing refused to print. I had several extra cartridges of ink here, so I replaced all but two of them. Still, the printer said it was out of cyan and continued to refuse to print. So I called up Best Buy and, after getting through their infuriating menu,* I was able to talk to someone. I told him that I wanted new ink for my printer but that I didn't want to buy a whole set of ink cartridges because I just wanted one specific color, so I asked if they sold the cartridges individually. I told him what kind of printer I had, and he responded that the best thing for me to do was to look up whether that was available online. "What the fuck," I thought, "you're actually in the store I'm asking a question about right now. Why should I go to some webpage when you could just check yourself?" I said something mildly rude and he was able to tell me that they had what I wanted.

So I went down there, bought the cartridge, brought it home, put it in the printer, and tried to print. But now the printer was telling me that it couldn't print because it was out of magenta ink. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me that before," I thought. Having no other option, I went back to Best Buy for the second time in twenty minutes. I got the ink and then got in line. And that's when the stupidest part of my whole day happened.

The guy in front of me in line was this stupid-looking undergrad. He was buying two DVDs and what looked like some computer speakers. The computer speaker box was a little wider and longer than the DVDs, but clearly much deeper. The sales clerk put the DVDs in a box, and then, while literally looking directly behind himself, tried to put the box into the bag, which was clearly way too fucking small. The whole time, the clerk is talking to another clerk and literally has his head turned completely around so that he's not looking at what he's doing at all. Eventually, he looks down and realizes that the box isn't going to fit, so he rotates it, looks away, and tries again. Finally, he's stretched the plastic bag out and about half of the box is in the bag, with the DVDs hanging out at the bottom of the bag. He picks up the bag and the handle rips off (because he stretched it so goddamned much). His solution? Try again with a different bag of the exact same size! So he takes the box out of the bag, wraps the bag around the DVDs that are still inside it, puts the DVDs and the first bag inside a second bag, and starts the whole process over again. Eventually, he understands that it's not going to happen, so he says "sorry, it's not going to fit in the bag." To which the customer responds "do you have a bigger bag?" "No," the clerk says. Here's my internal monologue:

Christ, I can't believe I'm back here. Thank god, there's only one guy at this line, and he's only buying three things. Ugh, come on, let's hurry this up. Dude, why are you trying to put that box in the bag? It's clearly not going to fit. Dude, look at what you're doing! What the fuck? Oh yeah, rotating it will make it all better. Of course. God, you're a fucking idiot. Of course the handle ripped off, you fucking moron. Now what the fuck are you doing? If you couldn't fit it in the first bag, why the fuck would it fit in this one? What the fuck is wrong with you? How fucking long is this going to take? What do you mean "do you have a bigger bag?" Just carry the fucking box! Or--here's a thought--put it in your giant empty backpack! What the fuck is wrong with everyone?! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! [mind explodes]

*Why does a local store even need to have a voice-activated menu system? Those are the fucking worst because they don't work half the time, and the fake voices are always infuriating--like the HAL 9000 or something. Still, thanks to X-tina, I know how to beat them: you almost always get redirected to a live human being if, when prompted for a spoken answer, you respond with a loud curse word. Sweet.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 6:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

According to CNN, an Iowa discrict court ruled that the state's prohibition on gay marriage violates the state constitution's due process and equal protection guarantees. Although this is a decision by a lower court that is subject to review by the state's supreme court, it's still good news, and I'm glad to hear it.

I haven't tried very hard, but I haven't been able to find a copy of the decision. Anyone have any idea how to get ahold of it?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 7:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Legal Rants , Rants on the News

It's finally time for a new poll. First, however, the results from the last poll. It turns out that the politician you'd most like to see hit by a sea bass is Hillary Clinton. That's not too much of a surprise. Strangely, however, Bill Richardson came in second. I didn't expect that at all. Why does everyone have to hate on the Mexican?

Second, I have to give the new poll some context. After being gone for several weeks, L-dawg came back this weekend. Mr. Utah was also in town so, needless to say, we drank. At around five o'clock Saturday evening, we decided to go down to the Q for some food. On the way, through my drunkeness, I looked down and saw what can only be described as the most amazing picture ever. Here it is:

It's just . . . unbelievable. I don't have the words to describe how amazing this picture is. The one guy actually got one of those tuxedo t-shirts. I didn't even know those really existed. See the hole in number 2's chest? It's a fucking bullet hole! So, these idiots got dressed up, posed for this picture, and framed it. Then, it somehow got shot and ended up on the sidewalk in a pile of trash. All I can say is that it's amazing.

So, of course, your task now is to decide which one's the biggest douchebag. I'm voting for number 4. From the cowboy hat to the sleeveless button-up shirt, the guy's a grade-AAA douche. What do you think?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , General Awesomeness , Hanging Out With My Friends , Polls

I went to see an outdoor performance of Much Ado About Nothing tonight. Although I have read several Shakespeare plays, this was the first time I actually got to see one performed. I thought it was pretty good, although I still think that Shakespeare is pretty ridiculous and the dialogue is sometimes impenetrable, especially when it's mumbled in an outdoor venue. Still, the outdoor stage made the whole thing much cooler, except for the part where it started raining really, really hard. But that only lasted for about ten mintues and, after a brief break, the play resumed. The second act was much stronger than the first, I thought, but it was really enjoyable throughout.

Anyway, I've been thinking a lot lately about cover songs. A good cover song is hard to do. You have to preserve some aspect of the original song while simultaneously putting your own spin on the tune. No cover is likely to be universally loved--fans of the original are likely to claim that the cover fails to live up to the original--but good ones nonetheless exist. I mean, Jimi Hendrix's "All Along the Watchtower" is a cover, and anyone who claims that that song doesn't kick ass is a moron, plain and simple. Other excellent covers include Dolly Parton's version of "Stairway to Heaven" (if you haven't heard this, you have to--it's awesome) and Johnny Cash's version of "One" (along with a bunch of his other covers), and Soundgarden's "Come Together" (which Mr. X. once described as the "darkest version" of the song ever).

My recent interest in covers is due in no small part to the hours I've recently spent trolling around Youtube. Cover versions, both amateur and professional, abound. Some of them are great, some of them are terrible, and some will almost certain cause any alien species that are watching our electromagnectic signals to conclude that our species must be eliminated. So, here, I'm going to attempt to demonstrate the wide quality spectrum that covers inhabit. To be fair, I'm only going to include covers of one song. That way, it'll be easier to compare the relative strengths and weaknesses of the various interpretations. The song I've picked is Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit." it's extremely popular and anthemic, plus the arrangement is, to put it mildly, extremely simple, so artists have a lot of discretion as to what they're going to do. Let's jump right in.

Tori Amos

Although Ms. Amos looks like a strung-out troll here, this version kicks unmitigated ass. It's actually one of my all-time favorite cover versions. I think that her interpretation of the song is transcendent, which is saying a lot because I abhor that word. I think that this version both respects Kurt Cobain's song while being completely original.

Paul Anka

This is an abomination. While "Smells Like Teen Spirit" works both as a rock anthem and as a mournful piano ballad, it absolutely cannot work as a fucking big band swing piece of shit. Mr. Anka should be shot for being so far off the mark. He shouldn't have even attempted this. And, really, who wants to hear him talk about his libido?

The Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain

This might not actually have been that bad except that the singer is unbelievably terrible. As it stands, it's hilarious--look at the ukelelists bang their heads!--but it's not good per se. In fact, I'd say it's bad per se.

Some orchestra

It seems like everytime there's a really popular song, someone tries to arrange it for an orchestra. Sometimes it's successful, although I can't think of an example right now. Most of the time, however, it's not. This is an example of when it is not. The main problem, I think, is that the song just doesn't lend itself to this sort of instrumentation. It's pretty hard to expand what is essentially a very repetative, sparse, simple song into something that is both recognizable and interesting when played by that many instruments.

Eric Roche

It cannot be denied that, technically speaking, this version is very impressive. And Mr. Roche certainly puts his own unique spin on the song. The problem is that his spin sucks. He essentially takes the song and adapts it so that he can show off what an amazing guitarist he is. There's no feeling here, just sterile virtuosity. I'm also extremely annoyed by the way he moves.

Some random guys

Athough it's not perfect, I like this version, especially the vocals, which I think are pretty well done. The lead guitar is pretty unimaginative but, overall, I think it's pretty good. I appreciate that they tried to do something different with it without stripping it of its essence.

Futile Quest

I've saved the best--by which I mean "the worst"--for last. God, this is awful. The kid actually says "bwing your fwiends." And then, during the chorus, he says "hawhoa." These kids seem pretty young, but that's hardly an excuse--they should definitely be prosecuted as adults.

Anyway, there you have it. Good covers are hard to come by.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Hanging Out With My Friends , Music Reviews , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Reviews , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

Alright! I believe that all of the issues with the blog have been fixed, including the comment issue. I believe it's now possible to comment smoothly. I've just tested the comment thing, and it seems to work fine, so leave comments, people! There are still some problems with the templates not being applied evenly all around, but I'm working on that and it's only an aesthetic issue.

So, I guess I'll tell you the story of why the blog's been more fucked up than normal lately. It all started a long time ago when my commenting system got fucked up. I was way too lazy to deal with it at the time, then I got really busy and knew that I wouldn't possibly be able to deal with it then. I figured that now that I have a little more free time I'd be able to deal with it. I had two choices, as I saw it: I could have either taken the time to actually go through my blog software, find, and correct the problem or I could have taken the easy way out and just wholesale upgrade my blog software which should have, in theory, eliminated the problem. Surprisingly enough, I decided to take the easy way out.

So I started updating the blog software but--of course--it didn't go smoothly. Without getting too technical, various things kept getting fucked up. After dispatching several issues, I was able to get the new software running--sort of. It kept crashing everytime I actually tried to implement it. I tried everything I could on my end to try to get it running, but ultimately I called up my host to see if anything was wrong on their end. After some nonsense, they explained to me that Movable Type 4 simply cannot run on their servers. "What the fuck do you mean?," I asked. The guy explained that the programs takes up more memory than my plan allows me to use, so the program kept crashing. "How much would it cost to upgrade to the next level of memory?" I asked. He told me that it would cost about six times more than my current plan, which is completely fucking ridiculous, as far as I'm concerned.

At this point, this story takes a pseudo-UPS-ian twist. I felt wronged by my host, so I resolved that, no matter how much of a hassle it was, I would ditch them and find a new host. So that's what I did. I found a host that offered to host the site and install Movable Type 4 for me. All I'd have to do is transfer the templates and entries over. And transfer the domain name so that it pointed at the right place. Well, of course, this all took way longer than it should have. And I had to rebuild all of my templates essentially from scratch. Three times. And then the comments wouldn't work. Then they did. Then they didn't again.

But it's all back now for the most part.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , General Remarks

I'm not feeling up to writing a new post tonight, but I was inspired by Lily Graypure's latest post to finally do something I've been meaning to do for a long time. One of the things that I was really concerned about when I decided to move to my new domain was losing all my old posts. So, I started moving those old posts--and the comments--over to this blog manually. It's a pain in the ass, but I think it's worth it. Although I still haven't finished moving all the posts over, I have now moved one of my favorites over. It's also the post that's gotten the most comments in Here is No Why history. It's a dork test I wrote. What's really awesome about it is the comments. Also, Kristin's first comment is remarkably prescient.

Anyway, enjoy.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , General Remarks

Because I don't currently have a job, go to school, or have other responsibilities, I've settled into a pretty ridiculous sedentary lifestyle. Because all of my friends are gone, on extended vacations, or gainfully employed, I haven't really been seeing very many people lately--I only saw four people other than myself today. At first, the transition from being super busy and extremely social to having absolutely nothing to do and no one to do it with was difficult. But I settled into it today--I've accepted my fate. And, goddamnit, if I'm going to be an unemployed bum, I'm going to do it well. Therefore, here are some changes I intend to implement soon:

1. All-elastic-wasteband wardrobe. If it's got zippers, buttons, or buckles, it's gone. Fuck that--I don't need to impress anyone. The mailman doesn't judge me, and neither do my cats. And even if they do, fuck them--what have they done with their lives? In fact, I'd be surprised if I'm going to wear anything but boxers. I really should stock up on wife-beaters, though.


2. No working out. This one's not a shocker, but I thought I'd throw it in just to make sure no one thought that my first resolution, which involves basically wearing work-out clothes all the time, meant I'd be doing any working out. I won't be. In fact, I drove about halfway to the gym today and then thought "fuck it" and went to KFC instead.


3. No more KFC. Don't get me wrong, fried chicken fits into my whole scheme pretty well, but the problem is that KFC doesn't deliver, so I have to leave the apartment to get it. That's a problem, because it cuts into my TV time.


4. Get a DVR with more capacity. My current DVR can only hold about fifty hours of non-HD content. That number drops to eleven if I want to store high-definition shows. That's simply unacceptable. What I need is something that can record every electromagnetic communication in the general vicinity for my later review. That way, I'll always have an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation to watch.


5. Find a service that delivers porn. This one's pretty self-explanatory. Oh, wait! The internet! Sweet!


6. Get faster internet connection. See above.


7. Stock up on Chef Boyardee and Kraft Easy Mac. I've gotta eat, and I think these top-shelf entrees will do the trick.

God, why didn't I just drop out of school and do this a long time ago? This is awesome. I wonder if you can apply for unemployment benefits over the phone . . . .

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 4:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (10)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Life Sucks Sometimes

So, as I expected, I did pretty much nothing this weekend. In fact, I forced myself to go for a drive tonight just so that I could say that I actually left the apartment this weekend.

I did some reading--I finished Over Sea, Under Stone, the first book in the Dark is Rising series, which is apparently about to be made into a movie or something. It was decent, although really short. I think I'm going to read the rest. Man, I love young-adult literature. I rule!

I also watched some TV. There's this show on GSN called "Without Prejudice?". Basically, a group of five people get to decide which of five contestants is going to get the $25,000 prize based solely on how much the panelists like the contestants. The panelists get some basic info about the contestants and then get to judge the shit out of them. It's pretty awesome, although the format is kind of drawn out and boring. And the host, Robi Ludwig, puts a "Dr." in front of her name, but Wikipedia reveals that she got her "degree" from some ridiculous nonschool.

In any event, the show's ok, and the panelists are really stupid. Still, I can't help but think about how much better the show would be if I was in charge. First of all, no panelists--just me. Second, I wouldn't just have discretion to award some lump-sum prize. Instead, I'd be able to assign various punishments or rewards to people based on their merit. So, for example, if I were to conclude that you're a douchebag, I'd take all of your polo shirts, sunglasses, hair product, and other assorted douche paraphernalia, sell it, and then dump you in the middle of the Amazon. If you end up being a good person, I'd give you the proceeds from selling all the bad people's stuff. If you're a hippy, I'd have you shot. Twice.

Man, that would be awesome.

The other thing I did this weekend was get addicted to Myspace. Although I signed up a long time ago, I hadn't really looked around too much. After a random IM conversation with an old friend on Saturday, though, I started looking around to see if any of my friends were on. As it turns out, nearly everyone that I've lost touch with over the course of the past ten years is on Myspace, so I went around adding a bunch of people. It's pretty cool. If you're on Myspace, you should add me. Or tell me how to add you if you don't know my real name.

One other thing. While randomly searching Youtube (another thing I do when I'm bored), I found this awesome video of the Arcade Fire:

Goddamnit, they're awesome!

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Book Reviews , Existential Nonsense , Music Reviews , Rants , Television Reviews , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

Mr. Vice, pH, and I went and watched Superbad tonight. The movie surpassed all of my expectations, even though I was expecting a lot. It was definitely funnier--though not necessarily better--than Knocked Up, and both Mr. Vice and pH thought it was funnier than Forty Year-Old Virgin, although the jury's still out on that for me. What this movie definitely was, though, was all-out hilarious, and it didn't spend a lot of time on sentimental or romantic stuff. That might be a negative for some people, but I liked it. Although I generally don't mind a love story in my comedies, Superbad didn't compromise its objective--to just be a very funny comedy--by diverting any energy to something not funny. Even the one interpersonal conflict involving the main characters was resolved in an extremely funny manner. Anyway, I highly recommend it.

Earlier in the day, Mr. Vice and I decided to go play some golf. It was pretty cool, and I had what could be considered my best round of golf ever. Although we intended to play nine holes, we had to leave after only six. Still, I lost only one ball, fewer than I've lost on any other round. I think I once lost fourteen balls over eighteen holes. Another positive thing was that I was only about twenty strokes over par when we finished up the sixth hole. And I also, in all seriousness, hit some amazing shots, including a really good seven iron from the wrong fairway onto our green through some trees where I had a gap of about four feet to work with. That was awesome. The point here, of course, is that I'm a terrible golfer.

Anyway, today certainly constituted the high point of my weekend. You see, literally every single one of my good friends is out of town this weekend. I actually can't think of a single person that I'll be able to call up this weekend and go have lunch with. No one. It seems incredibly unlikely, then, that I'll be having any social fun this weekend, which is fine, I suppose, it just sucks. I resolve, however, to finally clean my apartment! Fuck yeah!

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done , Funny Shit , General Awesomeness , Movie Reviews

Why is my computer calling me a "loser" at seemingly random intervals. There is absolutely nothing at work right now that should be making any sound, let alone insulting me. What the fuck?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Rants

Seeing as how I have almost nothing interesting to say about myself or anything that's going on right now, either in my own life or in the world at large, I've decided to do what comes naturally: be pissed about things. The thing I'm most pissed about right now is Stevie Ray Vaughn.

Some of you might think that I, as an aspiriing guitar god, should probably love SRV. But the fact is that the man sucks balls. Although I fully admit that he was an extremely talented guitarist, he is--along with Eddie Van Halen--a perfect example of why a song should never be built around someone showing off their virtuosity. Technical ability does not a great song writer make, and SRV proves that beyond all doubt.

In the interest of full disclosure, I have to say that I'm not the biggest blues fan to begin with. But there's stuff in the blues that's interesting, new, and that escapes the derivative nature of the whole thing. Mr. Vaughn is not one of those things. All of his songs sound the same--they start off with a drum a bass groove with, surprisingly enough, some fancy guitar work. Then the guitar dies down, Mr. Vaughn screams some completely perfunctory lyrics (something like "Well there's floodin' down in Texas"), then there's some fancy guitar fill, then some more stupid lyrics (for example, "All of the telephone lines are down"), then another guitar fill, then some more stupid lyrics ("Well there's floodin' down in Texas"), another fill, more lyrics ("All of the telephone lines are down"), and then the chorus, a solo, the second verse (which is just two lines repeated over and over), and then a longer solo. That's not a fucking song! That's just a bunch of guitar wankery with some words in between! It's bullshit, it's cheap, and it's stupid.

The greatest guitar solos ever are awesome not because they're technically impressive--some aren't difficult to play at all--but because they fit perfectly within the mood of the song. A guitar solo is a special songwriting tool. It should be used cautiously, not shoehorned into every musical arrangement. Mr. Vaughn has the whole process backwards, it seems. He starts with a solo and then builds a song around it. Ultimately, while it appeals to my inner guitar geek, it's unsatisfying to the part of that, you know, actually enjoys good music.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: wank for a reason or don't wank at all.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Music Reviews , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

Although Mr. Vice lent me the DVDs about a year ago, I've just now finished watching the seventh season of The West Wing. I have to say that I think it was pretty good, but nowhere near as good as the first four seasons.

I really missed some of the older characters, and I was happy to see Sam come back. It sucks that Zoey didn't really get to do much and we never found out what happened between her and Charlie, but it was good to see Charlie go off to law school--you know he's going to be a super badass. I was also sad that we didn't get to see more of Mallory--she was hot.

Unfortunately, the new characters just weren't as cool as the old characters. For example, although I love Joshua Malina from his work on Sports Night, it never seemed like they knew exactly what to do with Will Bailey. First, Sam's calling him "one of us," then he goes and joins up with the Vice President, then he gets C.J.'s old job, then he's doing the National Security chick, then they break up or something? I don't know, I just didn't connect with the character. As for Kate Harper, she really grew on me--I didn't like her at first, but I was a big fan by the end. Again, though, she wasn't as dynamic as previous characters. And pretty much all of Matt Santos's staff was disposable.

I also thought that the relationships--platonic and otherwise--were hit or miss. I really, really loved the relationship between Charlie and the President in early seasons (the scene where the President gives Charlie a carving knife made by Paul Revere is one of my favorite from the whole series), but it was largely absent in the final seasons. And the C.J.-Charlie relationship, what little there was, just wasn't satisfying. On the other hand, thank god that Josh and Donna finally got together--that was drawn out for way too fucking long. And I also liked the culmination of C.J. and Danny. But why build up the whole Will-Kate thing only to have it end in a complete fizzle? Lame.

Of course, it was really sad to see Leo go. I knew it was coming, but it was still really touching. Leo was the man. Although I have to agree that his sense of style was a little off--he often looked like the Joker.

Anyway, overall, I thought it was pretty good, but a real disappointment when compared to the first four seasons.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under 150 Things to Love About Madison , Television Reviews , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

the solo from "Cherub Rock." I'm just saying.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Potentially Entirely Unhelpful Analogies , The Smashing Pumpkins

I'll probably post something else later, but I just thought I'd point this out. Although Mr. Utah has been arguing that TLC's programming has, as of late, been less about learning than about "reality" and house flipping, I maintained that the network still broadcast generally high quality stuff. But, as it turns out, I was wrong.

You see, the channel supposedly dedicated to learning has agreed to broadcast the Miss America pageant. This is stupid for so many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that the stupid Miss America pageant needs to just go away.

But, no, here comes TLC to the rescue. Fucking assholes. If this interferes with so much as one episode of Property Ladder, I'm going to flip my shit.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Television Reviews , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

A few days ago, I was annoyed to find that, although I thought I had finally broken my cats of their habit of chewing through cables, they had chewed through my guitar cable, meaning that I couldn't play my electric guitars. So, the next day, I went down to the music store and bought a new cable. When I came home and plugged it in, everything seemed to be ok for a few minutes. Then, something strange happened: music was coming out of my amp, but I wasn't playing it. In fact, there was singing. And it was in Spanish.

After tinkering with the new cable for a little bit, I determined that the new cable was fucked up--there was some shielding issue and, under the right circumstances, it was picking up radio frequencies. So, today, I took that cable back to the store so that I could get it exchanged. I'm telling you this as background for a story in which I was either a stand up citizen or a completely uncool dork. I'll let you decide.

So, I went to the store, walked up to the clerk, and explained my situation. He was really nice and eager to help, but I also got the sense that he was high. At the very least, if he wasn't high then, he has been high for a large percentage of his life. What I'm trying to say is that he seemed spacey and vaguely incompetent. But, again, nice. Anyway, I told him about the radio thing and said I'd like to exchange my cable. He said that wouldn't be a problem, took my old cable, asked for the card I used to pay for it (I didn't have my receipt anymore, so I thought this was normal), had me sign something, and then said "Thanks."

There was this awkward pause where I stared at him and the old cable, now lying on the desk, and this credit card slip. I was thinking "Did I miss something? I said I wanted an exchange, right?" Anyway, he stared at me, too. Finally, he said "I credited that back to your card. Oh, wait, did you want to exchange that?" And I said "Yeah, please." So he walked me over to where the cables are, pulled one out, handed it to me, and said "Have a nice day." Now I'm thinking "Wait, if you credited the first cable back to my card, I haven't paid for this cable." And then I sort of wondered whether he knew what he was doing. Was he giving me the cable? Or was he just completely incompetent. After another few seconds, I finally said "So, should I pay for this, then?" Because, goddamnit, I felt bad taking advantage of this guy if he was just an idiot--I didn't want him to get in trouble or anything. And if he was just hooking me up, he certainly hadn't made any effort to communicate that fact to me.

When I offered to pay he said something like "Oh yeah, sure. That way my inventory won't be all screwed up." Like all he cared about were his inventory numbers, not the fact that he was giving me free merchandise.

So was he giving me the cable? Was I just not cool or hip or with it enough to understand that? Or would it have been stealing?

Why do I stress over this stuff so much?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 6:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit

No, I'm not moving--yet. My landlord has allowed me to extend my lease until the end of September, at which time I will--hopefully--have some idea what the fuck I'm doing with my life. Still, I've been helping a lot of my friends move because, as students, this is the time of the year when all of our leases end. And, while I'm always more than happy to help my friends move, the whole thing has got me thinking about how much I fucking hate moving. Packing up my life into a few boxes and dragging it somewhere is just about the worst thing I can think of. The whole process is tedious, depressing, and exhausting.

It's tedious because I have a lot of crap. I don't have a lot of big crap: there's just my guitar stuff, my bed, my coffee table, my desk, and my couch. That's all the big crap. But I have a lot of small stuff. CDs, books, poker chips, silverware, plates, pictures, trinkets, electronics--it's just too much to think about. When you move, you have to find all that crap, decide whether you want to keep it, and then put it somewhere. This is a problem for me because I bet that I've forgotten about approximately 90 percent of the stuff I own. When I move, I know that I'll be emptying the drawers of my desk, find something, and think "Oh, fuck, I haven't seen this in about two years." And then I'll have to decide whether to keep it or get rid of it. My mom's the world's biggest packrat, and, although I hate that I inherited this particular aspect of my mother's personality, I am my mother's son. Which basically means that I've been accumulating completely worthless crap for some time now, a trend that's likely to continue through my next move.

Moving is depressing because it almost always signals a radical shift in one's life. As a student--which is the only life I've ever really known--when you move, chances are your friends are moving, too. And with that many people moving, some people are likely to move away, which, of course, sucks. This has already happened to me--Bluebunny recently departed for Chicago, and RPM will join her shortly. And, of course, Mr. Utah has been banished to the BRF, or the "Northern Wastes," as I think they should be called.

I've only moved four times in my life. The first place I remember living was this trailer in Nogales. In fact, some of my earliest memories involve being pissed that we were moving from there. But we did move, to a house in Nogales where I lived for over a decade until I moved to Flagstaff for college. After the deterioration of my initial living situation, I moved in with my family, who had, by this point, moved to Flagstaff themselves. The, of course, I moved to Madison. Fourt times. And each one involved a lot of ridiculous changes, ended relationships, and missed friends. This next time will be no different, but hopefully there won't be any outright hostilities. That only happened once, but it sucked.

And, of course, moving is exhausting. It's not necessarily that there's a lot of stuff to lift. I can lift stuff without complaining too much, although it certainly sucks. But moving--when you're the person moving--is exhausting because you have to think about packing and then pack and then move stuff. And then you have to unpack. When you're helping someone move, you show up, lift some boxes, and then you're done. But when it's you that's moving, the whole process is up to you, and it fucking sucks.

On the whole, of course, the process is worth it: there are lots of new opportunities and new people to meet. But let me break down my life for you right now: I get up pretty late, look for jobs, do some work, watch TV, play video games, and hang out with my friends. For the next few weeks--or until I'm forced to take some menial job for which I am ridiculously over qualified--I have very few responsibilities. And it's awesome. And--I daresay--I deserve it on some level. And, what's more, lots of my friends are right here with me.

I don't know if you've ever had the urge to sort of put your life on pause. Like, where you would, if you could, freeze the development of your life and just live your life in the exact same way forever. I'd pause my life right now. It would be awesome.

But, of course, I can't do that. No, instead, I've got to move. And far sooner than I'm willing to admit.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Rants

As it turns out, I like Mexican food. Who would have thought? In any event, I ate so much ridiculous Mexican food tonight that I was neraly out of commission for tequila night. I swear, after chips and salsa, fajitas, water, and about sixteen margaritas, I was about to explode. And not at all buzzed.

After some meandering, we ended up at the Silver Dollar, one of Madison's best dive bars. Co-SME showed up with his girlfriend, adding to the crowd consisting of me, pH, Mr. Vice, Mr. Utah, Emily-in-Chief, and New SAE. One of the night's main attractions, apparently, was a much-hyped drinking contest between me and Co-SME. The problem, though, was that I was so full that I literally would not have been able to handle chugging large amounts of beer. Or small amounts of beer. In fact, I could hardly breath. I felt like shit.

So, after Co-SME, in a rather impressive display of Sconnie bravado, downed six beers in about three minutes, I called off the drinking contest. Not because I was scared of losing, mind you--on a good day, I've got him covered. Rather, I just didn't want my stomach to explode. An interesting (unintentional?) side effect, however, was that Co-SME went from stone-cold sober to wasted in about fourteen seconds. Things pretty much just got better from there.

Topics of discussion included the following: various "who would win in a fight" scenarios (including Superman against the Fantastic Four (Superman, hands down), Superman against the entire staff of Hogwarts (Superman has no resistance to magic, so I think that the Hogwarts professors win here, although I think it would be close, but less so if Dumbledore is involved), Dumbledore against Gandalf (Gandalf would clearly win: he's a fucking Maia!), and Gandalf against the entire Hogwarts staff (I still think Gandalf, especially Gandalf the White, would win. He's a fucking demigod, for fuck's sake!)); some of our favorite stories from law school (like that time Weston took a phone call in the middle of class, walked out of the classroom with her wireless microphone still on, had a full conversation, came back in, and explained that she had to take the call because it was about her dog, or the time I threatened to kill someone Chronicles of Riddick-style); some woman on Rikki Lake who wanted to set the world record for having sex with the most men in one hour by fucking approximately 300 guys in sixty minutes; various MMORPGs; and other things too numerous and disgusting to bring up here.

In any event, it was a really good night, I thought.

Oh, and another thing. We had a brief conversation about whether SNL's long-running Lieutenant Black Guy, Tracy Morgan, had ever done anything funny. I think he did, in the form of Astronaut Jones. You be the judge:

Anyways, I think everyone had a good night. I know I did.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done , Funny Shit , Hanging Out With My Friends , Harry Potter , Law School , Superman , The Lord of the Rings

I went on a date tonight. Before I tell you all about how it went, I think that I should give you some background information, as well as explain how the whole date thing came to happen.

A friend of mine played in this softball league this summer and I, having nothing better to do, went to a few of the games. Inevitably, I got to talk to some of the members of the softball team. One of them--let's call her Abby--immediately struck me as both "intelligent" and "personable." But also, she was smart and had an agreeable personality. (I'm not being redundant here. If you want an explanation, e-mail me.) I talked to her a couple of times and then, when the team had its final game, talked to her again but didn't ask her out or ask her for her number or anything. A few days later, I thought "fuck it" and friended her on Facebook. After a series of events, we agreed to get dinner tonight.

To be honest, this girl might be a lot smarter than I am. That's not unusual--lots of people are smarter than me. But it's still intimidating. I was afraid, for example, that I wouldn't be able to keep up my end of the conversation.

Anyway, I was supposed to pick her up tonight at seven. I was extremely punctual, and we went to this diner sort of place. To my surprise, the conversation was extremely easy to keep up. We don't really know each other, so there were a lot of introductory questions like "where are you from?" and that kind of stuff. I thought that was fine.

We got seated in a booth, and we were talking pretty well--there were only a few awkward moments all night. There was, however, what I thought was a rather funny moment:

Me: [thinking] Man, the meatloaf really looks good.
Her: [out loud] I've never understood meatloaf. Who would order that?
Me: [out loud] I was thinking about getting that, actually.
Her: Oh.

Anyway, I got the meatloaf. And it was pretty good. I originally asked her out to dinner and a movie, but she said that that was cliche, and said that we should just go to dinner. I said that was ok with me. So that's what we did. At dinner, I asked her why she was opposed to getting dinner and a movie. She explained that she preferred doing things where we'd be able to talk to each other, which suited me just fine. Still, when the meal was over, I made it clear that I was perfectly willing to keep hanging out if she wanted. My plan was to propose that we go to the Terrace. Anyway, she said she wanted to do something else, but she also said that, although she'd normally suggest the Terrace, she had gotten really drunk the night before and the thought of alcohol made her want to throw up. So it was up to me to come up with something to do that would allow us to interact while not drinking. Here's what I was thinking:

Ok, dude, you've got to come up with something to do. God, dude, seriously, think of something. C'mon, think of something. Oh, fuck, it's been too long. Dude, say something. Seriously, say something. OH. MY. God. Say something! Anything! Say ANYTHING!

I ended up suggesting that we go bowling. She, surprisingly, seemed to like the idea, so that's what we did. We ended up talking a lot at the bowling thing. So much so, in fact, that bowling completely took a back seat to the conversation, and I was actually annoyed that I had to bowl because it meant pausing our conversation. Still, I think that we both had a pretty decent time, although she demonstrated that she's, if not smarter than me, then certainly more knowledgeable about certain subjects, which is, of course, extremely attractive.

As I drove her home, I suggested a second date. She said she'd call me. She is actually pretty busy in the next week and, after next Thursday, she'll be out of the country for three weeks. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was getting blown off. So, we'll see.

I say there's about a 35 percent chance that she'll call and we'll hang out again. I'll keep you guys posted.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 4:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

A friend and I went on a tour of Wisconsin's magnificent capital building today.

You can see more pictures here and here. The building is pretty much unbelievable. From the second you walk in, you are surrounded by murals, mosaics, statues, memorials, and immeasurable tons of beautiful marble from all over the world, from Minnesota to Greece. The building is almost one hundred years old and is actually about sixteen feet taller than the U.S. Capital in Washington D.C.

Unlike other historic capital buildings--such as Arizona's--the building is still the completely functional headquarters of all three branches of Wisconsin government: both the Assembly and the Senate meet there, our state's Supreme Court (where newly graduated lawyers are sworn in) is there, and the governor's office takes up the fourth wing.

There are all different sorts of historical anecdotes, relics, and inside jokes, from the badgers on top of the entrance to each archway to the "ghost of the Assembly" to the fossilized starfish.

Perhaps the most amazing thing about the whole building to me, though, is the fact that you can freely go almost anywhere in there--there are no security check points or restricted areas, except one outside the governor's office. When we were 1Ls, Mr. Vice, Mr. Utah, and I went to watch one of our professors argue before the Supreme Court of Wisconsin. It was awesome, and we walked around the building afterwards. We went into all of the different chambers and meeting rooms, and no one ever questioned us. At some point we ended up lost in some of the hallways, pretty far from the tourist areas. We were right in senators' offices and stuff, and no one seemed to mind. Last summer, when I worked across the street from the capital and had to regularly go to the State Law Library, located kitty-corner from my office, I would walk through the building almost every day as a shortcut. It's truly a completely public building.

I really like that. I like the fact that, although really important stuff is going on in there, anyone can walk in and sit in on oral arguments or debates. It's stupid, perhaps, but it really makes me feel like this state's government is of, by, and for the people.

Anyway, if you're around and you haven't been, you should check out the capital. I'll go with because I still haven't been up the observation deck, which I really want to do.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

I was driving around this afternoon listening to the local classic-rock station, The Lake. They usually stick to the pretty standard classic-rock stuff: the Beatles, the Stones, Hendrix, Led Zeppelin--that kind of stuff. It's usually pretty good, although they sometimes play some unmitigated crap--seriously, who the fuck likes progressive rock bullshit?

Anyway, "Radar Love" came on. And I thought to myself "why the fuck does this sone exist?" It's such a terrible song!

First of all, I hate call-and-response arrangements. If you can't come up with a better idea than to constantly switch back and forth between stupid lyrics and half-assed guitar parts, don't even try to write a song. I hate call and response in all its forms: I hate it in vocals (a notable exception being the scene in The Blue Brothers where Cab Calloway performs "Minnie the Moocher"--that's just awesome) and hate it when it's, as in "Radar Love," between vocals and instruments (that's one of the reasons I hate Stevie Ray Vaughn). I find it less irritating when it's exclusively between instruments, but I still think it's really fucking lazy songwritting.

Second, if you're going to include a musical interlude of some sort, make it interesting--nothing ruins a song like a groove-killing interlude. I hate "Magic Carpet Ride" for this exact reason--why the fuck do stupid organs and shit take over the song halfway through? Anyway, "Radar Love" is no better. Almost half of it is devoted to some ridiculous, pointless, boring interlude that does nothing more than make the song long enough to be a single. It's sad.

Third, the guitar work is laughable. Seriously, all of the guitar parts are simplistic, unoriginal, and stupid. The same can be said for the drums, the bass, the singing, and the lyrics themselves. It's just a stupid, unoriginal song.

Fourth, it sounds like something Jet would record. I don't think I've mentioned this on here before, but I fucking hate Jet. They're terrible in every single way. If I ever run into the assholes from Jet in a dark alley, I will kill them by any means necessary.

So, anyway. "Radar Love" sucks. It's no "Mexican Radio," that's for sure.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 4:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Music Reviews , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

It's raining like a motherfucker. No, I don't mean, as Mr. Utah might think, that people are throwing money around. Instead, I mean that water is falling form the sky--a lot.

Last night was pretty fun--it was Bluebunny's going away party, which was, of course, bittersweet. But I think everyone had a good time. Except for L-Dawg, who was far too drunk to even be aware of where he was. His extreme level of intoxication was due, surprisingly enough, to a new drink he invented. It's tentatively called an "Australian Tea," and involves peach-flavored crystal light, lots of rum, and lots of lemon-flavored vodka. It might not sound good, but it taste like heaven and there's not a hint of alcohol flavor. Not that I mind alcohol flavor but, you know, in case you do (ahem Mr. Vice ahem), it's great.

Anyway, we rounded out the night over at L-Dawg's place, although I wouldn't say L-Dawg was there. Rather, I would say that he died slowly on the couch. And then Mr. Utah showed up and it was awesome. And then Mr. Utah left and I was sad.

I woke up today and went to the MPRE review thing. God, I can't believe I have to take another fucking test. This one doesn't seem that bad, but it still sucks. What sucked worse, though, was the MPRE Bar/Bri class. It was fucking lame. I left early. I wish I had left earlier.

Then I just came home, watched TV, hung out, did nothing. It was glorious. I love fee time.

Later, L-Dawg and I watched Property Ladder, our new favorite show, and then I went and saw The Bourne Ultimatum. I thought it was pretty decent, although I noticed a distinct lack of ultimatums.

Tomorrow, I'm going to clean my apartment, something I haven't done in--well, I'm not going to admit how long it's been, but it's been a fucking long time. I think there may have been snow on the ground last time. Whatever.

Oh. And I have a date. Maybe.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Hanging Out With My Friends , Law School

I want to write something here that will be honest, touching, and incredibly obscure all at the same time. I want to write something that will make you understand exactly how I feel without making me seem pathetic and without giving anything away about myself. I want to write something true but made up. I want to write something that makes it so that only a few people know what I'm talking about but that everyone will be able to understand. But I can't do that. So fuck it.

My friend Mr. X called me up the other night. I went to his wedding last summer. His wedding. That was a total mind fuck. Today, Mr. Vice called me up and asked me if I could help him collect some of the stuff he and pH bought for their new apartment. They moved in together a few days ago--I helped them. Then I helped Bluebunny and RPM collect Bluebunny's belongings and move them into RPM's car. She's moving to Chicago today. He's moving down there pretty soon, too. And, although they're not moving in together right away, they probably will eventually. L-Dawg and X-Tina finally got the ring--they're officially engaged. Congratulations, guys! I called up Lauren tonight. I hadn't talked to her in a while. She was driving around with her boyfriend in his Xterra.

I'm fucking tired of being . . . alone.

This should be fun. I've got this playlist on my iTunes called "Depressing." I'm going to go through and pick out a few songs that, for emotional reasons, I can't listen to anymore. And I'll tell you the reason.

Dave Matthews Band--Crash Into Me
Yup, I can't really do this one, but perhaps for a novel reason. I associate this song with being in this girl's car. Mr. X was there. And the girl was saying that there's nothing overtly sexual about this song. And Mr. X and I were telling her that she was clearly and spectacularly wrong. In any event, I really liked that girl for a while, and that's one of the most vivid memories of her I've got. So I can't listen to this one, really.

Weezer--Butterfly
I went to college in Flagstaff. When I moved there, my parents decided that they were going to move there, too. So, if I ever wanted to go back to Nogales to visit friends or whatever, I had to stay with friends. On one occassion, I had to wait in my car while the friend I was staying with gave the above girl a ride home. I was tired and in the mood for something relatively mellow, so I kept playing this song over and over. Eventually, I started thinking that it was taking entirely too long for my friend to get back from giving the girl a ride. But he turned up and explained that he had gotten pulled over and apologized. Years later, I found out that what had actually happened is that they had spent a significant portion of the time making out. This song is essentially dead to me.

Sigur Ros--Untitled 8
Although I maintain that this is the group's best song ever, I can't listen to it. I saw these guys live once, and it was probably one of the best shows I've ever seen. While they were playing this song, my female friend and I sort of looked at each other. I don't know why--maybe I was getting some sort of contact high from the people around me or something--but that's the closest I've ever felt to another human being. And--perhaps most remarkably--I knew that she felt that way, too. But I was wrong, apparently.

Coldplay--Green Eyes
Yeah. I can't even really write about this one.

The Allman Brothers Band--Blue Sky
We were in her white Passatt. She had come up to visit and spent the night at my house, although not in my room. She put this on and told me that I was her blue sky and I was her sunny day.

U2--One
Her favorite band was U2. Before she left for a long trip, I recorded covers of a bunch of U2 songs, this being one of them.

Pearl Jam--Black
I let this girl get to me way more than she should have, given the fact that she was an almost completely worthless human being and I didn't even really know her for that long. Anyway, after it all exploded, I listened to this one nonstop. "I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a star, in somebody else's sky but why--why--can't it be--can't it be mine?" Pretty awesome stuff.

Ben Harper--Another Lonely Day
She gave me this CD. I was randomly listening to it while thinking about how much I hated the fact that she rejected me, when I found this song. And then I listened to it over and over again. And now I can't listen to it ever again.

Jack Johnson--It's All Understood
I think I saved the best--or at least the most strongly blocked--for last. I associate this song with perhaps the most objectively beautiful girl that I've ever had any chance of dating. I met her at one of the parties at The House. I have no idea how I found myself talking to her--she was way too pretty and I should have run straight the other way. But I did talk to her. And I asked her out. And she gave me her number, complete with her name in cursive with needlessly adorned letters. I called her, and we went on this sort of lunch date thing. It went really well, I thought. And then I fucked it all up. Unlike almost every other situation I've ever been in, what ended up happening with this girl--she essentially hated me and thought I was pathetic--was completely and totally my fault. I was nervous, insecure, and ridiculously uncool. It didn't help that I made a drunken ass of myself in front of her everytime I saw her for the next three years.

Anyway, maybe list some of your "dead" songs and why they're dead.

I'm sick of heartbreak and disappointment.

My neighbor is this woman that's pretty nice, but she's also kind of large. She lives alone in a one-bedroom apartment and, as far as I can tell, doesn't have any friends. No one ever visits her, at least, and she never seems to be gone at times when she's not working. She never seems to have good days.

That's the reason for the title of this post. Maybe where I am right now--alone--is where I'm supposed to be. Maybe this is how I'll always be.

The more I think about it, the more I think that maybe I should just accept my fate and move on.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes