#9 for the month

It’s time for another privileged look into my strange, strange music collection.

I typically have Rhythmbox sort my songs in alphabetical order by title, and I’ve noticed some pairs of songs that have exactly the same titles. Out of 2,493 songs, there are 21 duplicates, which is more than I expected. (I didn’t count different versions of the same song.) As you might expect, the titles are pretty generic. You probably haven’t heard of all of the artists.

• “Because” (The Beatles, Dave Clark Five)
• “Changes” (Bridget Kelly, David Bowie)
• “Free” (Dubious Quip, Hobo Twang)
• “Goodbye” (Hootie and the Blowfish, Sean Fournier)
• “Holiday” (Persson, Weezer)
• “How Long” (Allison Crowe, Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band)
• “Intro” (Ampiphy, WhiteRoom)
• “It’s a Beautiful Day” (MoOt, Persson)
• “It’s Over” (Harbinger, Persson)
• “I Want You” (Marvin Gaye, Savage Garden)
• “Learn to Fly” (Josh Woodward, Foo Fighters)
• “Like This” (Girl Talk, STEEP)
• “Low” (Coldplay, Silence Is Sexy)
• “Mary Jane” (Alanis Morisette, Fatblueman)
• “My Love” (Petula Clark, Junior Walker)
• “Solar System” (Depressive Art, Jamison Young)
• “Talk” (Coldplay, Silence Is Sexy)
• “What’s Going On” (Blind Mr. Jones, Marvin Gaye)
• “White Moon” (The Dada Weatherman, The White Stripes)
• “Woman” (John Lennon, Peter and Gordon)
• “You Can Have It All” (Yo La Tengo, Kaiser Chiefs)

Additionally, I have a couple of threebies (triplicates?):

• “Time” (Hootie and the Blowfish, Persson, Pink Floyd)
• “Wake Up” (Alanis Morissette, Josh Woodward, Smoke Fish)

If you have some time to kill, this may be fun to check out. How many duplicates do you have? Do you have more than three completely different songs with the exactly the same title? (My predictions: no one will answer, or people will include similar but not identical titles. Prove me wrong!)

And, while we’re at it, here’s some Ask Jordon.

Kate: What do you think about vegetarianism? Could you give up eating meat for some reason (and what could be this reason)?

I don’t mind if other people are vegetarians, but I don’t want it forced on me by anyone. Let me eat whatever I want, and I’ll let you do the same. I don’t care if the animals are mistreated or anything like that. If other people do care, then good for them, but I’m more concerned with human welfare.

I would give up eating meat if my life depended on it, but I can’t imagine a situation in which that would happen.

From the American Museum of Natural History: a video that zooms out from the surface of the earth to the edges of The Known Universe. Watch it in HD! (Via Pharyngula)

A voice actor does a really good impression of Morgan Freeman: Morgan Freeman Talks About… Toilet Paper.

It happens to the best of us: Why It’s Better to Pretend You Don’t Know Anything About Computers. (Via Lifehacker)

Git-r-carded

For those of you who don’t know, I volunteer with Get Carded, a student group that promotes organ and tissue donation. (The name comes from the organ donor cards we used to hand out, but these days there’s an online database for that sort of thing.)

Anyway, I’ve always been good about going to their events until recently, so when they asked for volunteers for their next event, I obliged. With this one, they decided to branch out from their usual target group of students at the university. Instead, they were going to have a table at a charity concert in Levy County.

Today, three of us went out to Bronson (which, despite having less than 1,000 residents at the last census, is the county seat). The concert was the third annual “Bark-N-Purr” Charity Concert, put on by the county humane society on some field. We had received a map showing us where exactly to set up. We were shown on the map as “Get Corded!” In fact, the letter and everything else they sent were made out to “Get Corded!”, including the exclamation mark.

It was raining a bit, and we didn’t have our tent, so we called one of the co-directors of the group and asked him to bring it. He did after a little while, but he didn’t stay. Then we set up. We were near booths for the Army, the Future Farmers of America, and a John Deere dealer. We were next to the Tupperware booth.

In general, there was a carnival-like atmosphere, with some bounce houses for kids, a sort of choo-choo train, and a few games. There was also a stage that had been set up, for the actual concert. They started with a prayer, I think, and then the national anthem.

Oh, and there was food. Hamburgers, hot dogs, corn dogs, wings, pulled pork sandwiches, french fries, other kinds of french fries, and… fried Oreos. I had to try some. They were surprisingly delicious: warm and breaded, with the Oreo inside kind of melted. I liked them so much that I got some more. That wasn’t actually a good idea.

I spent most of the time manning the booth. The other two spent some time checking out some dogs that they had doing tricks in an area near the stage. The police also showed off their dogs, apparently. I didn’t see. Ironically for a concert to benefit animals, pets weren’t allowed, but I could see where they were coming from. I wouldn’t want to have to clean up the field.

What we were really there to do was to talk to the people about organ donation. They were people with trucks, people wearing various types of camouflage, people with Confederate flags, people with American flags sticking out of their pockets. They were old, middle-aged, and young. One was even a beauty queen, the Clay County Miss Outstanding Teen or something like that. (She had a sash thing and a tiara.) They were also nice, for the most part (the Tupperware man helped us set up our tent).

We ended up giving out lots of swag. We even gave some to the Future Farmers of America for them to use as a door prize at their upcoming dinner. And before the headliner, some country singer, came on, we packed up and left.

I had been thinking of staying here after I graduate, but I’ll have to think about it some more.

With Google phasing out support for the horrible Internet Explorer 6, a mock funeral is planned for Thursday. (Via Lifehacker).

Yahoo! Answers is full of stupid people asking stupid questions. Here are 20 of the dumbest. (Via J-Walk Blog)

And finally, a parody of Rachel Ray’s show 30 Minute Meals.

No place to study (except in the study area and everywhere else)

It’s student election time again. In the spring, we vote for Student Body President, Vice President, and Treasurer, along with representatives for freshmen, sophomores, colleges, and grad students. Sound exciting? Oh, it is.

At UF, one political party controls most of Student Government. It’s the party that all of the fraternities and sororities happen to support, and these days it’s known as the Unite Party. They always win.

There’s also one or several opposition parties. The past few semesters, there have been the Orange & Blue Party and the Progress Party, but after cannibalizing each other’s votes last semester, they’ve decided to (ahem) unite as the Student Alliance. Their presidential candidate is Ben Cavataro, whom I mentioned around this time last year. He used to represent my dorm in Student Government, and I have a high opinion of him.

One of the big issues this semester is the student union. The university wants to increase tuition so it can raise funds to expand the building. The majority party, which basically always does whatever the university administration wants, supports the plan. The issue is now on the ballot for students to vote on (albeit in a non-binding manner).

This week, I’ve seen official-looking signs posted in the student union that list so-called problems with the current building and the benefits of jacking up our tuition to fix them. One of the “problems” is that the building has “no place to study,” even though a large study area was just built about a year ago. Today (well, yesterday, since I’m writing this after midnight), I wrote a letter to a student newspaper expressing my outrage at the university for creating these signs with false statements.

Then I read today’s issue of the paper and found out that the signs had been created by a student-run campaign, not the university. Oops. By the time I was able to send a correction to the newspaper, they told me that my letter had already gone to press. Tomorrow, a lot of people might realize that I’m not technically right. Boo.

In my defense, the signs were misleading and were placed very prominently, as if the university had endorsed their message. In fact, that’s actually likely because I’ve never seen any other student group’s signs placed at the entrances of the building for all to see. As if that weren’t enough, some university departments actually have officially endorsed the campaign.

Also, my letter can pretty much be read as though I’m criticizing the university for allowing the signs to be put up, so all in all, I guess I’m still right. I just hope no one nitpicks.

Here’s an old video about how they make food look good for TV commercials. (Via The Presurfer)

This compact calendar is pretty clever. (Via Lifehacker)

I knew I’d seen this cliché in about a million TV shows and movies: Let’s Enhance. (Via waxy.org)

A capital weekend

In my last post, I talked about how I went to Washington, DC last Friday. It was a big day. I rode in a limo, an airplane, and a train; I saw snow for the first time; and I almost literally rubbed elbows with a presidential appointee. You’ll have to go back and read about it if you want the deets. At this point in the story, it’s Saturday morning, and we’re getting ready to go to Free Culture Conference 2010, which is what we went to Washington for.

The four of us set out with Gavin to George Washington University, which was only a few stops away on the subway. Unlike the University of Florida, GWU is an urban university with its city’s street grid running right through it. We walked quite a few snow-covered blocks to get to the right building, which was at the edge of the campus. We got our first glimpse of the Washington Monument as we approached the building.

We arrived late. We checked in and got the t-shirts we had each bought upon registering for the conference. There were two designs to choose from. Mark, Kris, and Jennifer all chose one with a drawing with a pile of electronics and stuff, and I chose the other, which had the copyleft symbol.

All of the day’s events were held in a particular lecture hall. First, some panelists were discussing net neutrality and similar issues. One of them was a guy from the FCC, which I thought was pretty interesting. I was still tired, and I was trying to warm up due to it having been extremely cold outside, but I tried to pay as much attention as I could. Next, there was a speaker who talked about fair use, an important but increasingly ignored part of copyright law. After that, there was another panel with speakers talking about open access, which I thought was especially interesting because I don’t know as much about it as I do about other aspects of the free culture movement.

For lunch, the four of us followed Gavin and some other people to Potbelly Sandwich Shop, which is apparently a chain. This particular location was off Pennsylvania Avenue, just a block away from the White House. We were so close that I could get a glimpse of it. I wanted to steal away from the group for a little while to check it out, but I figured I wouldn’t have time. I got a large sandwich and a cookie, which ended up being too much food. I ate it anyway, figuring I wouldn’t have to eat as much for dinner.

Back at the conference, there was a keynote speaker, a panel about open educational resources, and then another keynote by Jonathan Zittrain, perhaps best known as the author of The Future of the Internet and How to Stop It. (If that still doesn’t ring a bell, he appeared on The Colbert Report to promote the book.) Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to make it to the conference, so he delivered his address via a video conference. I expected it to be boring since he wasn’t actually there, but his presentation was easily the most entertaining. One of his main themes was to explore the different ways people have used the Internet to obtain information. At different times he brought up examples such as an old newsgroup posting, a Yahoo Answers question, and an Amazon Mechanical Turk task (all of which asked, “What’s the difference between vanilla and French vanilla ice cream?”). And, like any good speaker, he answered questions at the end. It was as if he were actually in the room.

With that, the official events for the day ended, and we had some time to kill before the evening festivities. So the four of us decided to walk toward the Mall and see what we could see. It was really cold, and I didn’t bring my gloves because they made it hard for me to use the camera that I borrowed from my dad.

It got dark by the time we reached the Washington Monument. After posing for some pictures there, we walked to the World War II Memorial, where we got a picture with Florida’s pillar (which still had a bit of snow on it). It was very cold, and my hands were so cold that I felt like my thumbnails were going to pop off, but we continued toward the Lincoln Memorial, walking alongside the reflecting pool and trying (sometimes unsuccessfully) not to slip on the ice. The walk seemed to take forever. I actually saw some people walking on the pool, which had frozen over, and wondered if they had an easier time.

Finally, we made it to the Lincoln Memorial. It was lit up and still had a ton of snow on it. We made our way up the small section of the steps that had actually been shoveled.

You know how, in the movies, someone goes to the Lincoln Memorial and it’s all quiet and there’s no one around except for them and the giant statue of Abraham Lincoln, which somehow inspires them or gives them a chance to reflect on whatever they want to do? It’s not like that in real life. I mean, there are other people there, so it kind of ruins any moment you might have. But it is pretty quiet. There are signs asking you to be quiet, and it really feels like a religious shrine to Abraham Lincoln, as if he were some sort of god or something. The place looks like a Greek temple, after all.

We wandered around a bit. I read the text of the Gettysburg Address, which was engraved on one wall. We also went to the gift shop. We wanted to have our picture taken in front of the statue of Lincoln, so we got someone to do it for us.

By then, everyone was really cold, so we decided to head toward George Washington University’s student union, where the after-conference festivities would be held. Fortunately, we weren’t too far away, and we were even early. The plan was that everyone would meet to go bowling, but no one was really there yet, so we went to the restaurant next to the bowling alley. There were a lot of TVs there, and there happened to be a Gator basketball game on. We got to cheer on our school for a few minutes and then watch them lose. Then we got some food. I got some chicken strips and fries, which also ended up being too much food.

After that, we made our way over to the bowling alley, where Gavin and some other people from the conference were bowling. I didn’t feel like joining them, so I just hung out until everyone was done. Then we went back to Gavin’s apartment with him.

On Sunday morning, the four of us left Gavin’s apartment and set out back into Washington. We had considered attending the second day of the conference, but we would only have a few hours there, so we decided to do a little more sightseeing instead. It wasn’t at all cloudy that day, so it was warmer and more pleasant.

We started by going to the White House, which, it turns out, is next to the Treasury. The Treasury is much larger and more imposing, but it’s the White House that always has tourists in front of it. We were at the front of the building, which doesn’t seem to be the side where most people have their pictures taken. It’s a lot closer to the street, though, so we got some good pictures. Then we walked down Pennsylvania Avenue toward the Capitol, passing by all the three-letter-acronym buildings (DoJ, FBI, EPA, FTC, IRS…). After what seemed like forever, we made it to the Capitol.

Before that, we were going through a parking lot in front of the capital. Since it was Sunday, there weren’t many cars parked there. A Capitol police officer was hanging around in his car, waiting for us to jaywalk. We stuck to the crosswalk, though, so he went away. I guess they have nothing better to do when Congress isn’t in session.

We got as close as we could get to the building, which wasn’t very close since they had the staircases roped off. There was a police car up there too, right by that fountain. So we weren’t very high up, but we had a great view of the field out in front and the Mall, which were still covered in snow. So, after taking a few pictures of ourselves there and seeing all that there was to see, we went around to the other side of the Capitol. On the way, I saw some people (kids, probably) sledding down Capitol Hill. I didn’t think they would let you do that, but no one seemed to be stopping them.

We checked out the other side of the Capitol, and then made our way toward the Library of Congress, which the others wanted to check out. We had found out that it was closed on Sunday, so we couldn’t go in, but we walked by it. From there, we went to the nearest subway stop and took the subway out to Greenbelt, Maryland, where we connected to a bus that took us to the Baltimore airport, where we arrived early for our pleasantly brief flight to the Orlando airport, where Kris had parked his car, in which we rode back to Gainesville, where Kris dropped me off at my apartment.

I wish I could have seen more stuff in Washington, but we were really there for the conference. I did get to see all the main touristy places and, for the first time in my life, snow. (It’s wetter, colder, and icier than I imagined, but I like it.) The best part was that we’ll be compensated for most of our expenses by UF’s Student Government and by Students for Free Culture. Hopefully we’ll be able to go on other trips in the future.

Check out my photos from the trip! They’re posted on Facebook, but you don’t need a Facebook account to view them. I was too lazy to include any of them here, although I know it would have gone a long way in breaking up the sea of text that is this post.

(Those of you with an eerily good memory may notice that this post’s title is similar to one I used for another post about Washington, DC in January 2005. I think after five years I’m entitled to use it again.)

Many of Norman Rockwell’s paintings were based on photographs that he staged. Here are some of them! (Via waxy.org)

There are some weird stadiums in the world. Here are twelve of them! (Via The Presurfer)

There are a lot of actions that demand the death penalty in the Old Testament. Here are all of them!

Mr. Kalilich goes to Washington

Last week, I mentioned that I’d be going to Washington, DC for the weekend to attend Free Culture Conference 2010 with other members of my school’s chapter of Students for Free Culture. Well, I’m back, and here’s how it went.

On Friday, I had to skip my classes and go into work early. It was raining, and I had brought a duffel bag with some warm clothes (and a camera) borrowed from my parents. As I waited for the bus, a pink Porsche SUV limo pulled up to the bus stop. One of the other people at the bus stop turned out to be in on it; she said our apartment was giving free rides to campus in the limo, presumably as a gimmick to get people to renew their leases. I was expecting to see a camera crew at any moment, like I’d end up in one of those commercials where they surprise random people by going to their house or whatever.

Anyway, we all got inside the limo, where they had granola bars, Rice Krispies treats, and bottles of water for breakfast. I expected to be lectured to about the benefits of renewing my lease, but nobody said much. It was kind of awkward, actually. The limo followed the route that the bus would have taken and dropped us off at the usual bus stop on campus. I thanked them for the ride.

After working at my job on campus, it was time to go. Kris, Jennifer, and Mark picked me up, and we drove to the airport in Orlando. It was the same airport that Mark and I flew to Europe from last year, so it brought back some memories. I didn’t have much time to reminisce, though, because we were almost late. We hurried through everything until we made it past security, when we had a few minutes to get some food.

The flight was slightly delayed, but we got on eventually. I was seated between two people in the emergency exit row. It wasn’t very comfortable, but I didn’t mind much. I spent most of my time thinking about the trip and reading that day’s issue of the Alligator. I didn’t even get to finish it before we started our descent into Baltimore. I strained to look out the window. The clouds parted, revealing an endless, twilit landscape of barren trees and little neighborhoods covered in white. I had never seen snow before, and there it was—lots of it.

We landed at the airport. The runways had been cleared, but everything else was covered with a thick layer of snow. I became giddy. I didn’t have much time to be giddy, though, because we were almost late. We hurried out of the airport to catch a bus to the nearest train station. We made the bus with a few minutes to spare, and then we made the train with a few minutes to spare. In the meantime, I did notice that the cold was a different, more tolerable kind of cold than what I was used to in Florida. It just felt like being inside a freezer. I guess there was no humidity.

The train took us to Washington’s Union Station, where we took the DC subway out to Arlington, Virginia, where we met up with Gavin Baker, the founder of our chapter. He had graduated and moved to the DC area, and he let us stay in his apartment for the weekend. We made our way to the apartment (I also tried to run around in the snow and throw snowballs) and got settled in. Then Gavin took us back into DC to have dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant called Lalibela. Apparently there are a lot of Ethiopians and Ethiopian restaurants in the city.

It was a small place, and a lot of the table/booths were right next to each other. I was sitting on a bench next to another group of people. Still, it was pretty cozy, and Gavin had a suggestion for what to order. We got a communal dish consisting of some portions of various meats and vegetables served on a type of flat, doughy bread. We each had our own piece of flat, doughy bread, which we tore pieces off of and used to pick up the meats and vegetables. It was fun and delicious.

During the meal, Gavin surreptitiously showed us a Wikipedia article on his iPhone. He was almost certain that the guy I was sitting next to was Vivek Kundra, Chief Information Officer of the United States. I had read about him on some of my nerdy news web sites, so I was pretty pumped. I couldn’t help but try to pick up on the conversation he was having. His friends were talking about his past job as CTO of DC and how he had been on the cover of a magazine. Definitely Vivek Kundra. We decided not to talk to him, though. More often than not, public figures want to be left alone.

We went right back to Gavin’s, where we wound things down and went to bed. We had a couple of big days ahead of us tomorrow.

Speaking of going to bed, I’m pretty tired, so I’m going to continue this story next time. Soon, probably. In the meantime, here are some links:

Here’s a spectacular NSFW animated short in which almost all of the scenery and characters are logos and mascots: Logorama. (Via waxy.org)

The webcomic xkcd is pretty funny, but I don’t think anybody ever gets the punchline every time. Fortunately, we have Toby, Dave & Ian Explain XKCD, a blog in which the humor behind every comic is explained.

Photo woes

Okay, I can’t remember everything I’ve ever done. Kate gently reminded me about one of the more interesting gifts she brought me during her stay. Remember how I said I was on the cover of an Esperanto magazine but I didn’t have a copy of it? Kate brought two copies, one for me and one for my parents. Here it is:

The photo was taken at last year’s International Youth Congress of Esperanto in Liberec, Czech Republic. From left to right are Esperantists from South Korea, Togo, Ukraine, and Vietnam. And then there’s me.

Another postscript: When I got home after seeing Kate off, I noticed that the dry erase board on the refrigerator still had a Russian sentence that Kate had written. I took a picture of the board and then went to put the picture on my computer. But… the camera wouldn’t read my memory card. My last memory card.

It had already stopped reading each the others, most recently a few days before. It was now official: I really needed a new camera. My beloved Sony DSC-P73 was a brick.

I had been wanting to buy a new camera for a while, but now I really have a good excuse. My ideal camera is a compact point-and-shoot with manual controls. Oh, and it has to take good pictures. I don’t ask for much, you see. But it turns out that new lower-end point-and-shoots have done away with manual configuration entirely, leaving me with no choice but to jump up to the next price range.

I didn’t want to get a Sony again because I knew how much they love pushing their own proprietary formats, particularly their Memory Stick storage format for cameras. My dad pointed out that some of their new cameras also accept SD cards, which have apparently become the standard while I’ve been busy fiddling with Memory Sticks.

That made me feel a little better, and knowing that Sony products tend to give you a lot of bang for your buck, I had a look at what Sony had to offer. The DSC-H20 and the DSC-HX5V caught my eye. I liked the former because it was cheaper and had already been released. I liked the latter because it was smaller, didn’t have a lens cap, took SD cards, and shot higher-quality video (in stereo, yet).

I’ve decided to go for the HX5V, but apparently it’s not coming out until the end of March. Till then, I am cameraless, which kind of sucks because… I’m going to Washington, DC this weekend!!

That’s right. I’m the secretary of the UF chapter of Students for Free Culture, and we’ve decided (sort of at the last minute) to make the trek to George Washington University for the organization’s Free Culture Conference 2010 this weekend. We’ll be staying with Gavin Baker, the legendary founder of our chapter whom I’ve never met (apparently everyone else who’s going has.

It won’t be snowing, but it will have snowed, so it’ll be the first time I actually see snow. (what jordan u’ve never seen sno? what is wrong with you, dont u ever travel in the winter?? its not like its incovenient or anything…) I’m pretty excited about that. I should have enough warm clothes, but I think I’ll need boots or something to actually walk through the stuff.

If you have a car, you may be interested in this: How to Decode Your Car’s VIN. (Via Lifehacker)

Scientology Sucks is a contest in which participants submit videos of themselves pranking the Scientology cult. The submissions should be posted online tomorrow, and the winners (as judged by the judges) will receive cash prizes.

Time capsule 2000

My weekend was pretty good. On Saturday, my sister and I went to visit our friend Kevin in Miami, which was overrun with New Orleans Saints fans who had come for the Super Bowl. We had a semi-fancy lunch at Perricone’s and went to some less touristy places I hadn’t been to before, including Simpson Park and the City Cemetery. We also met my sister’s friend Jennifer, but we didn’t have much time to hang out with her because we had to get back home for our friend Mark’s party. Mark will be joining the Navy in a few days, so it was good to see him one more time before he goes out.

I got back to Gainesville yesterday evening. I missed most of the first half of the Super Bowl, and I was kind of bummed about that, but I don’t really know why. It’s not like I watch pro football the rest of the year, and I don’t even like the commercials. Well, I like to think I don’t, but I have a few favorites. I wasn’t rooting for either team, but I arbitrarily bet my sister (for no money) that New Orleans would win 23-17. When they were trailing 17-16 at the end of the game and then got a touchdown, I was arbitrarily ecstatic, but then they went for two and got a pick-six, and the rest is history.

Ten years ago today, I joined Where’s George?, a site for tracking where your dollar bills go after you spend them. I was heavily active during the first half of the 2000s, but my interest waned after that, and I haven’t entered many bills into the system since then. I look fondly on WG as my first online community and the one I’ve participated in the most. I figured the least I could do would be to drop by and say hello on the forums, so I just did that, and I hope to hear back from some familiar faces… I mean, nicknames.

Speaking of things that happened ten years ago, my old school’s time capsule should be opened soon.

In early 2000, when I was in the fifth grade, my teacher asked me to write a message for a time capsule that our class would be making. So I wrote something like “People of the future, we are Mrs. Sgroe’s fifth-grade class at St. Elizabeth of Hungary Catholic School in Pompano Beach, Florida…” Then she said that we would be making a contribution to the school’s time capsule, so the extra details were unnecessary. She had me rewrite it with a couple of other people.

Later, we gathered in the school auditorium/cafeteria to seal the time capsule. But first, the principal opened the previous time capsule, which had been sealed in 1990. I don’t think it was actually buried; I think it was just kept in a closet in the office or something like that. But it was probably for the better as the box contained some interesting finds: a Statue of Liberty foam hat, a Madonna poster from when she looked like Marilyn Monroe, some newspapers with articles about the cold winter of 1989-90, and a hand-designed t-shirt saying “We love the ’80s, the ’80s were the best!”

Oddly enough, I have no recollection of what anyone put in the new time capsule except for a picture of my class and the handwritten message. I guess the artifacts from the ’90s were too banal for me to bother to remember. So when the faculty and students at St. Elizabeth-St. Joseph School, as it’s now called, open that box in the office, it’ll be a surprise for me and most everyone else.

(Well, I hope they still have the time capsule. The faculty suffered a large shake-up during the past decade, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the new folks took their predecessors’ old boxes of junk to the curb. That would suck.)

Wired writer Evan Ratliff tried to vanish. Here’s an interesting article about his experiences forging a new identity and staying on the run from readers looking out for him.

A life worth remembering

I’m tired. When I’m tired, I don’t want to do anything but sleep. It doesn’t matter if I have to do homework or clean my room or whatever. Sleep wins almost every time, or else I don’t feel good and I’m not fun to be around. (Andy, who traveled throughout Europe with me last summer, knows this. Let’s give him a round of applause.) So I’ll try to be brief.

On Sunday night, I got the horrible news that a girl I went to school with for many years had been killed. I was stunned. I’ll be the first to say that I didn’t know her very well, but I knew her for a long time. I went to pre-school, kindergarten, elementary school, junior high, and high school with her.

I just did a little fact-checking, as I like to do when I’m writing a post. I went through my pre-school yearbook (yeah, I have one) and found that she was in my sister’s and my class. Now it’s a little haunting to see the group picture. There we all are, captured for a moment in time. Who could have known back then her life would be cut short so soon?

She went to St. Elizabeth of Hungary Catholic School from kindergarten through sixth grade. The memories from her last year stick out most for me. It’s clear to me now that she wanted little more than to be liked. She had friends, to be sure, but I don’t think she got the respect she deserved.

I didn’t see her much when we went to Pompano Beach High School together. Probably the last time I talked to her was at a football game in my freshman year. Later, I heard that things were rough for her, although I’m not sure how much of what I heard was true. She gave birth to a daughter and loved her dearly.

In recent years, most of what I knew about her I gleamed from friends and from her Facebook page. Her “About Me” section began:

My name is Misha and before I get into anything you should know that you know absolutely nothing. No matter what you think, see, or heard, you no absolutely NOTHING about me…

I thought it was funny at the time, but it’s true. I really didn’t know her. So in a way, it might seem odd that I’m going on about this terrible thing that happened, but she was almost always a small part of my life. She was always there, and then, suddenly, she wasn’t. It definitely has made me think about how it could happen to anyone at any time.

Misha had recently moved to Louisiana. According to some news articles and her obituary, she pulled over on the highway to check on another driver who had just been involved in a hit-and-run crash. After walking over to the other car, she herself was hit by a passing car whose driver has not yet been found.

I’m home now (that’s how I have access to my pre-school yearbook; I don’t carry it around with me at all times). I’m home because my friend Mark is joining the Navy, and he invited my sister and me to his going-away party, which is tomorrow. Misha’s funeral and a candlelight vigil are also tomorrow.

I would like to go to the vigil if I can, but if not, I’ve at least been reminded about how fragile life can be and what a good example Misha was for all of us. In spite of all she had been through, she stayed strong and still went out of her way to a good deed that unfortunately led to her untimely death.

That wasn’t brief, but I think it was just right.

Kate’s visit, part five

I was tired on Monday night, the 18th, but Kate had been wanting to jam with me and Andy. She had brought sheet music for a couple of songs—”Sunshine of Your Love” and “Tears in Heaven“—and we played them in Andy’s room. Kate played Andy’s keyboard, Andy played his bass, and I played my guitar. Kate also sang on “Sunshine of Your Love.”

The next day was the Kate’s last full day with me. She and I had Krishna lunch on campus again. After lunch, she spent a while in one of the computer labs making arrangements for the last leg of her trip, a few more days in New York. Later, she joined me for my Databases class.

In the evening, Andy, Kate, and I had a good video chat with Kate’s French-Canadian friend. We mostly used Esperanto, but we slipped into English sometimes because her friend was more of a beginner. After that, Kate said her goodbyes to Andy in case we didn’t get a chance to see him in the morning.

Later, I tried figuring out how we would get to the Greyhound station by bus (it’s conveniently not located along a bus route). After much frustration in trying to figure out the best combination of buses, which would have taken at least an hour and a half anyway, Kate suggested that we call for a taxi.

Kate woke up at 6:15 on Wednesday, January 20. Her alarm woke me up, but I lay in bed for a while, trying to go back to sleep. At 7:00, I got up and prepared her usual breakfast of bread and cheese. Even though she was packing her things frantically, I thought we would be late for our cab, which was arriving at 7:30. But somehow, she managed to pull it off, and we were early. She got another chance to say goodbye to Andy, and we went outside, where the taxi was waiting for us.

It was cold and foggy, and I couldn’t remember the last time I was out that early. The drive to the bus station seemed very long. It was essentially a drive across town through some minor streets. Along one of the streets were statues of the planets in planetary order. I hadn’t seen them since my visits to Gainesville as a child, and since I had moved here to go to college, I had always wondered where they were.

The cab driver made small talk, asking how we knew each other and what Kate thought of the country and things like that. I didn’t really feel like answering questions, but I did my best. After all, being a taxi driver has to be one of the most boring jobs. At one point, he got a call on his cell phone, apparently from his son. “Not now,” he said, “Daddy’s got people in the car.” I didn’t ask him about it.

Finally, we arrived at the bus station. I had never been to a Greyhound station before. It was pretty much a large room with a ticket desk, some rows of benches, and a few other people. It didn’t look fancy, but I should have expected as much. We were about a half an hour early, so I sat next to Kate for the last time, away from the TV that was competing for my attention.

We exchanged words. I could see the tears coming down from her eyes. I was starting to get emotional too. This was it.

The bus came. We shared one last kiss, and she got on.

She sat by the window where I could see her. I fought back tears. But she smiled.

She smiled, and I smiled back. The bus moved forward. I followed it through the parking lot until it stopped at the street. She smiled at me again.

The bus turned right and drove away.

I walked the other way, toward the nearest major road, where I could hopefully catch a bus to campus. Cars zoomed past me. It was still kind of cold.

I saw Firpo’s, a diner that we used to go to when I visited Gainesville as a kid. At least, it used to be Firpo’s. It was something different now.

Not far away was my bus stop. According to the bus schedule that was posted there, I had missed the bus by five minutes and would have to wait 55 minutes for the next one. I decided to keep walking instead.

One of my pet peeves is when people treat walking as a last resort, a mode of transportation for only the most destitute and desperate—worse, even, than riding the bus. People are always oddly fascinated if I tell them I spent more than 15 minutes walking to get somewhere, as if using my legs as nature intended were something I should be ashamed of. But what could be more beneficial? It’s good exercise, it’s entertaining, and you’re actually getting something done.

So, I kept walking. I had never seen this part of town. It looked like a lot of other parts, with gas stations, small strip malls, and even some neighborhoods. I passed by a historic house. I had never heard of it, but it was apparently one of the oldest in the city, dating from before the Civil War. I never would have been able to read the historical marker if I were in a car or a bus.

I kept walking. On the opposite side of the road, there was a real estate agent’s office with a marquee in front. I expected it to say something about houses, but it said:

LET GO OF
WHAT EVER HOLDS
YOU BACK

Walking further, I made it to University Avenue and started walking toward campus. This was the way I had walked with Kate when I first met up with her 12 days ago, and now I was making the same walk alone.

I made it to campus and to the building where I work. I had been walking for a little less than an hour. The sun had come up some more, but it was still early for me; I wasn’t supposed to be at work for another hour. But I got started early.

My room seems quiet and empty without Kate here. All of her stuff is gone except for a few things that now decorate my room: the monthly calendar of St. Petersburg, a few more yearly calendars printed on single sheets of paper, a New York City subway map, a tiger-shaped bag containing coins from around the world, and a couple of record albums: a Soviet Beatles compilation album called A Taste of Honey and Paul McCartney’s Снова в СССР.

On my desk, she left a sticky note that she had written on early in her stay. It reads:

Life is a movie
without
a happy end.