The times are being drawn to a close, and I don't really know what to say.

81. My Law Enforcement and Social Policy exam:
A) resulted in my getting one full hour of sleep last night.
B) contained about 7 questions on the book I expected to constitute about 30 questions.
C) posed random, matter-of-fact questions beside the normal applicable problems.
D) received a royal booty lashing from Anthony.
E) two of the above
F) all of the above

If you chose choice F, you are correct!

Well, school is over (for at least two weeks anyway). Honestly, I don't know what to think. While Gainsville is just starting to feel familiar and completely comfortable, I'm hit with the reality that my stay has run at least half its course. Friends are starting to pack and escape back to their families, friends I probably will never see this regularly again--- come on, I'm not going to bump into one of them while plodding toward my apartment shower! My parents will take care of me in two days, and dorm life will expire. The East Three Mullet has run through my veins the past two years, but in two days he will be demoted to a recent and fond memory.

Actually, these farewell moments are not the most active ideas circulating in my brain at the moment. Two themes resonate right now...

1) During my diligent book and note readings in the wee hours of this Monday morn, the sun rose before my heavy eyes. What a gorgeous and glorious spectacle! Every morning the sun rises just as majestically, shining light onto every plant, every lake, every person. What am I doing during this masterpiece of daily birth? I sleep. When I awaken around 10 am I see the sunrise's finished project, but seeing the work in progress proves far more beautiful. The sun shines a little brighter in the end when you first witness the dark and dim.

2) I'm tired. My bed is empty. I'm tired. My bed won't be empty for long. I'm tired

At 9:30 am I shall complete my second year of college. Until then, I will be the law enforcement. I will be the law enforcement. I will be the...

"A bottle of white,
a bottle of red,
perhaps a bottle of rose instead.
Get a table near the street
in our old familiar place.
You and I, face to face.

"A bottle of red,
a bottle of white,
it all depends upon your appetite.
I'll meet you anytime you want
in our old Italian Restaurant."

---Billy Joel, "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant"

The characters: Anthony, Ben, Jamey, Nathan, Jerel, Paul (cameo)
The scene: Saturday night, early Sunday morning; Anthony's dorm room
The plot: A couple of college guys chill and have a good time during perhaps their last shin-dig as East Three Mulllets
Review: A peaceful, appropriate conclusion to an incredible East Three experience

I love my sister very much.

After a quaint but laugh-filled evening at Alehouse for Jay-Kill's birthday, the party of six transported their cabooses to Jason's couch and watched some hilariously incriminating home videos dated around 1988. We ached our fluctuating bellies as loud, obnoxious laughter almost overpowered Jason's rowdy nine-year-old outbursts.Younger brother Josh even made an appearance in the room, and two siblings--- 14 years later--- were able to share in the memories and smile. This time of family memories planted some Full-House-esque music in my brain as I reminisced on some good times I share with my own sibling.

One of the most special things my sister Camille and I do by ourselves is sit on the couch and watch our old home movies together. From the time four-year-old Camille was caught with an evil ploy to get me in trouble, to our 1991 magic show with our cousins Joey and Phillip, to our 1994 Robocop adventures (Starring Joey as Robocop, Camille as Shocking Sherry, Phillip as Simba Mufasa--- The Lion King had just been released--- and yours truly as the villian Metal Mash), my sister and I watch these productions as though we're seeing them for the first time. Every so often we spot something new to ridicule, which makes us excitingly yell for our parents to come see our latest discovery from the ancient videos. Sometimes they watch just to please us, but other times they stay back and let me and Camille enjoy it by ourselves.

That chunky girl with the cute lisp has blossomed into a seventeen-year-old beauty with a heavenly singing voice. At times I'm still amazed at the looks guys my age give her, remembering how some of my old tennis buddies look at her the same way I looked at juniors in high school just a few years ago. Shoot, Camille is even dating one of my old tennis chums. Adam is a great guy, though. I just got pictures from Adam's senior prom with my sister by his side. They look so cute, even with those slightly annoying eyebrow rings.

In less than a week, my bags will be packed and I'll relax for a ten-day stay back home. I'm sure at least one afternoon will include my wonderful sister sitting by my side, each of us laughing and teasing each other as we enjoy some home videos. Camille, go set up the tapes!

definitelynotme: in response to one of your many blog questions of wednesday, the one in which you question what you would give your live for, i quote the great fyodor dostoyevsky "the sacrifice of life is, in many cases, the easiest of all sacrifices". he goes on to discuss the greater sacrifice that fewer could accomplish of relinquishing five or six years of their youth to hard labor. i just think you might consider that there are greater sacrifices to be made, though they may not sound as romantic as death.
Adpearl: wow, very insightful. yeah, the first thing we think of for "i'd do anything for so-and-so" is: would you die for them? very cool, never thought of it in that sense

Phil's deep words (While surrendering life sounds noble, it could very well be an easier gesture of love and loyalty as opposed to altering your life with the pain and terror of, say, submitting yourself into slavery for the rest of your life.) gave my brain a new exercise outside it's most recent routine of stretching with law enforcement, followed by a brief jog of law enforcement, intensified with a full-body workout with law enforcement, and concluded with a cool-down procedure involving law enforcement. I doubt that I had ever read 500 pages in two days until now. How reflective is it that the shortest chapter in Policing in Modern Society deals with police ethics? Tonight will provide a brief break from my studies. Jason turns 23 today, so where should a few friends go to celebrate? Why, Alehouse of course! Here's hoping Chasity blesses us with her presence. Tragically, I think I'll end the night back here in my room with book #3: Police in a Time of Change. Hey, whatever must be done...

I'm taking a break from studying, and I'm thinking about her.

She's been on my mind off and on today. Nothing in particular really, just her. The picture of her holding me with her arms and a big smile when I got back from South Africa, even though I was tired, grungy, and carried a fowl stench. Wondering if she's in the gym right now working hard for her upcoming tryouts. Recognizing how vigorous a training regime she's had to accept to perform at her best. Remembering how friendly we were my senior year in high school, still in shock of where those days ultimately led us. How attentive and proud I was when seeing her train. Adding up all she has faced this semester. The warmth knowing I'll be one of the first to hear how things go this weekend, and not because I'll call, but because she wants to tell me. Realizing she's aware of all this.

Ok, that break provided my heavy eyes and mind peace from my studies. My book once again yearns for attention. Coming dear...

This is the greatest and best song in the world... tribute... tribute.

The University of Florida concluded its spring term today, but my eyes did not fill with tears.

Honestly, today felt just like any of the last hundred weekdays of going to one class, doing a bit of reading, going to Chi Omega, and doing whatever with the night. I only have one final, a lovely Monday, 7:30 in the a.m. Law Enforcement exam. Until then, I must engulf myself into 500 pages of criminology, torture for other students but not so for someone who lusts for the subject as I do! I did feel a little subconscious today in class, though. Dr. Shenkman invited us to debate on his statement that we should not lower the standard requirements of a police officer in order to allow more women on the force. He mentioned the physical superiority of men of women ("Big roughneck Paul is drunk in a bar because he just lost his girl. He refuses to leave. Here comes Officer Lorraine! How is she gonna get this guy to leave?" wondered my outspoken professor.), and this girl that always overtalks and argues Dr. Shenkman's point interjects. Oh, a side note: this girl puzzles me because for most of the semester I sat to the side of her, and she looked really good from the side view. I finally saw her face up the other day, and she looks so much different. Her eyes seem to be spread way too far apart and somewhat uneven. This girl has it going on from the side but looks strange face-up! I now avoid looking at her head-on.

Anyway, this girl countered that a small man would have the same problem as a woman officer in the scenario. Off and on, we referenced to the "small man." The small man in this case was 5'6" and 140 pounds. If you know me, I come close to this description. Sure, I'm 5'7" and 145 pounds, but who's counting? I'm almost the prototypical "small man!"

Eh, I don't really care. I like my stature. Besides, the class concluded a guy like me could do the job of the average-sized officer without a drop in excellence. Maybe in the amount he bench presses, but not in how he can fight crime.

Anthony: crime-fighting machine!

An insightful, intriguing, beneficial night at the Ox.

Who should you respect?
Who are the ones that become great?
Where do you want your greatness to come from?
Can you achieve that greatness?
Is it better to be the lowest member of tier one or the highest member of tier two?
How many of those girls dug us?
How far can natural talent take you?
How far can determination and heart take you?
Is saying "yes" to the question, 'Would you do ____ differently?' synonymous with regret?
What's up with Diego's eyebrows?
Does one side step mean you can't get as high as you could have before?
Would you rather experience the struggles that come before success at the expense of how much you objectively accomplish?
Do we like people "because ..." but love people "despite ..."?
For what/whom would you sacrifice your life?
If you had to pick up and move to Helsinki right now, who would you miss?
Who do you want to remember you?
Why is your best friend your best friend?
How have your parents shaped you into the person you are today?
How lucky are you?
Isn't life beautiful?

Can a class that consists of watching popular movies do anything but entertain?

Today was the season finale of "The Age of Blockbuster," my honors class that meets on Tuesdays to watch a flick with the intent of discussing issues on Thursday. Of course, we never actually do any work, as our Thursday conversations consist of frat-bashing, phallic symbols, snuff, how Batman and Robin are hidden-closet homosexuals, Celebrity Boxing, the Simpsons, sexual harassment (and by "discussing" that issue, I mean that our professor sexually harasses the sorority girls), and more phallic symbols. Group Project day opened with the largely anticipated Diorama-rama! We watched clips of the Simpsons episode where Lisa and Allison compete in Diorama-rama, only to lose Ralph Wiggum, who's not the sharpest tool in the shed. The intro beautifully phased into the 5 dioramas that represented some of the movies we had seen. What an awesome display, and extra applause goes to the creative background music complementing each diorama!

Eventually we heard the knock on the door we had anticipated for several minutes... the Gumby's delivery man! Eighty dollaree-doos worth of pizza and pokey sticks were passed around until we could eat no more. Luckily I had a drink or I'd be struggling to swallow now. After two mildly entertaining video presentations, the final group concluded with Win Dana's Prizes, a parody of Win Ben Stein's Money. With several catagories to select from, each student was faced with a clip from "Caddyshack" with the goal of more fully interpreting the scene than Dana (our professor). Interpretations mainly followed our pattern of identifying phallic symbols, the struggle of immigrants, the domination of white society, and more phallic symbols. After the game, I picked up my sponge dinosaur, posed for a picture with the class I'll never forget, proceeded to sing a group effort of a Saved by the Bell skit, and left the room for the final time.

Is there another class as easy and entertaining as this one? I'll never look at "Lethal Weapon" the same way again. Or "Superman." Or "Thelma and Louise." Or "All the President's Men." Or...

Today I discovered that I greatly helped someone I deeply care about. Also, I discovered that I hurt someone I deeply care about.

To the one I helped: You are most definitely welcome. Anytime you need help like that again, you know you can come to me, and I know I can depend on you. I wish I could have done even more!

To the one I hurt: I'm truly sorry. Nothing can be changed of the past, but know that in the future it won't happen again. I respect and care about you too much to inflict harm onto you. Thank you again for understanding.

Oh, I hope to have the visual aspect of my blooger kickin with much more prettiness and coolness. The facelift will only enhance the bloogering experience! Bona note.

I had an awesome Sunday!

I guess things started going awesome around 2:00. My book needed me, but I couldn't ignore the gorgeous 90 degree day out there. No one immediately around me wanted to do any work--- I can't blame them--- so my plan was to drive campus, find a beautiful spot I don't normally visit, and enjoy the scenery with my book. The area outside Norman Hall lured me with its shaded bench tables. After about 30, 45 minutes I wanted a break. A light bulb then flashed above my head, urging me to pick up my book, get in my car, and find another sexy spot, and every time I wanted a break, I'd pack up and find another destination. I drove until I reached Baughman Center, a quaint but gorgeous chapel on a hill by Lake Alice. The hill would provide an excellent reading spot, I presumed. Well, Baughman Center ended up being my final stop because I enjoyed myself so much there.

To my surprise, about 7, 8 people resided on the grassy noll, including 2 particularly fine-looking girls in the best shadow spot. My spot had shadow, but in my hunt I had failed to notice the dirt mound nearby. One of the cuties turned and told me I had dirt on my pants. I looked down, thanked her for noticing, and brushed it off. The other girl then invited me onto their widely stretched purple blanket, to which I smiled and snuggled in.

Jeri and Amanda were really cool. Jeri looked about 22, had gorgeous dark olive skin and long curly hair, and wore those school teacher glasses that some girls wear just to look hotter. Amanda must have been about my age, petite, blonde, very radiant. They dressed very classy, not revealing too too much, and they were studying psychology. We talked about all sorts of stuff (between breaks of reading, or was the reading between breaks of talking?) and just had a really good time. Jeri and Amanda had to go around 4, so I helped them pack up their car and bid them farewell. I still had reading to do, though, so I returned to the spot. Since everyone else had left by this time, I had returned to my peaceful solitude. Sometimes alone time can be made better when others join in.

The beautiful 90 degree weather sustained itself through the evening, even during my tennis match with Odom. We do this thing where the winner of our match "receives the mullet" and proceeds to do a dance n' grunt celebrating the world's worst haircut. The mullet: why settle for one haircut when you can have two? Business in the front... party out back! Whew! Mullet! Anyway, our matches usually stretch to the max (Odom the defending Mullet champion on a 7-6 tiebreaker), but I torched that mutha in the scorching heat, 6-0, 4-3! The mullet is mine Odom, and you're not getting it back, whew!

If I had not dominated so quickly, I might have fainted on the way back to East Hall because the flaming sun melted my skin! A cold shower was reserved for me on my return, I slipped into a sexy outfit, and Nathan and I prepared our incredible feast. Bbq chicken, spicy yellow rice with beans and sausage, ice cream sundaes downstairs, we ate lots, with every bite a savory one! I putzed around for a bit, watching the Simpsons and what-not, when I received a cute hello from Haley. We then talked on the phone for a while, which always adds a little more paint to my sky. Things are healthier between us. Such an incredible person.

To end the night, I became a rock star! My killer voice exploded onto the microphone and created a doozy of a hit. Sure, I didn't write the lyrics. Or the music. And the song consists of Switchfoot's "Chem 6a" with my voice dubbed over the lead singer's. And it took several hours of editing because Jamey's computer decided to add a glitch to my singing on every take (each time in a different spot!). But the mp3 is done. I am now an mp3!

Thank you... we love you New York, goodnight!

How odd is it to know that a fairly new friend not only shares the same feeling as you, and is not only circulating on that thought, but also happens to have a blog where he can write about that idea, much like you (I) did a few hours before?

Would I have not enjoyed it because I would have been quiet, or would I have been quiet because I would not have enjoyed it?

I'm watching SNL with Jamey and Nathan. I'm back at the dorm spending quiet time with two friends rather than at the after party with all the cast members of Julius Caesar, tonight being our final performance. I didn't really develop a rapport with anyone from the play, probably because they had been together since January and I came along at the end of March. Plus, I just go up in a booth by myself while they all practice together. Everytime I did a play or skit with others I found a new friend. For the first time I was on the technical side of the show, invisible to the audience... and the actors.

I'd rather be with a small group of good friends than a big group of strangers anyway. That's just me; I'm pretty shy. Haley joked to me today that I was "antisocial" because I was going out of my way not to socialize with the people from the play (and the nerds at the festivities outside that woke me up at 10:00!). Of course she was kidding, and it was a great exaggeration, but sometimes I wish I were a little (lot) more outgoing. I should be able to go to a party full of people I don't know, find a cool guy or a cute girl--- preferably a cute girl--- stir up a conversation, and make a new friend. Sounds easy enough. Actually, I've done it before; it just seems like my other friends can do it a lot more easily than I can. What can I say? I'm shy.

Haha I just reminisced. One of my fears about going to South Africa with a bunch of strangers was that I wouldn't make any good friends and would just sit in the back of the bus with my headphones. That didn't happen... not even close! I was never alone and still talk to those cool cats. Cool, maybe I'll just start talking to people I don't know more often!

Maybe.

I completed a new compilation disc today ("Effin Tunes III: Sup Guys (by Chadwick)?"). Only some East Three Mullets who understand the "beauty" of Chadwick will understand the title. I got a fair mix in there, from alternative to jazz to Bocelli to Wesley Willis. About a week ago I heard that new Puddle of Mudd song--- not the catchy but finally overplayed "Blurry," but "Drift and Die." From the first acoustic chords I thought, "Hey, that would be a killer intro to my next compilation disc!" Yeah, sometimes I hear a song and start thinking about when I'll get the opportunity to pirate it onto compact disc.

Tonight I listened to my newly created cd, making sure it burned without any glitches or a silent track like track #3 on the last disc I made. "Drift and Die" comes out the speakers, and I can't help but practice a little air guitar, check myself out in the mirror, see how utterly ridiculous I look, and sit back in my computer chair relieved no one walked by and witnessed that spectacle (or so I hope). About mid-song, a voice behind me called for my attention. It didn't sound like the voice of one of my friends. A very baritone, roughed-edged grunt, like what I expect an ogre would sound like. That's when it hit me; as improbable as it would be, I suspected the caller was the guy who lives directly across the hall, the guy who locks his door even to walk to the water fountain, then follows that by locking his door a nanosecond after he's reentered his secret fortress no one has ever seen. I think his name is Mike, but I'm not even certain. How sad is that: I don't even know the guy's name who has lived across from us since August! Anyway, we had a brief chat...

Who is this?
What's that?
Who is this?
Oh, it's Puddle of Mudd.
What song?
Drift and Die. It's their new release.
I like it.
Yeah, me too. It's pretty good stuff.
Yeah, I liked that other song Blurry by them. This is pretty good too.
Oh yeah, Blurry is pretty cool, but how about that Smack my A song they put out before. That was a pretty, uh, blunt song.
That was them too? Man, I always thought that was funny that they just said that on the radio, "I like the way you smack my ass."
Ha ha, I know what you mean, man.
Yeah, cool.
I just burned this a little while ago.
Oh. Cool.

He then proceeded to turn around, unlock his door, go into his room, close the door, and immediately lock it. I'll probably never talk to him again.

I have to get used to being alone.

I'll be here in Gainesville for six weeks during the summer. That stupid requirement of experiencing 9 credits of your college life during the gorgeous Florida summer forces me to sacrifice the season most of us use to get away from our yearly routine. I can remember a few weeks/days/hours ago asking friends, "Hey bud, are you staying here for the summer?" After all, I'd like to know who will be here sharing this spectacular summer school with me. Whether for internships or part-time jobs ($$$) or relaxation or any other reason imaginable, my friends are leaving Gainesville for home or another part of the world. That leaves me here without the people I love. No walking down the hall and finding a good friend to hang out with. What am I gonna do on the weekends? When something awesome or shocking happens, who's gonna be there for me to tell? If I don't make any good friends in my summer classes, am I just going to spend my time in my room by myself?

Actually, that's exactly what's going on right now. I'm here in my room by myself after getting a little taste of being alone. Tonight's plan was to leave work and pick up Paul, meet up with some guys at Alehouse, continue on to Cru, then Paul, me, and anyone else interested would make our way to the Mellow Mushroom. Well, Paul and I were merely a party of two for most of dinner until Jason and Josh came later. Then at Cru--- where I already feel like an outsider, not being part of the alliance I accompany, but I'm fine with that--- some mystery guy started a buzz about 8 Seconds being the happening place to be tonight. I wanted to stay loyal and stick with plans (plus, I would have rather listened to hot exciting funk than be surrounded by chaps and country music). Everyone in the alliance set his eyes on 8 Seconds, and I was left without any kind of escort to the Mushroom. Also, I had to give Paul a ride to his car, so I had to wait until everyone finished socializing without me to leave. I checked my watch and realized Swayback would probably have concluded their set by the time I got there. The Mellow Mushroom was now out of the picture. I guess I could have gone to 8 Seconds, but I was already tired of following the flock I don't quite belong to. Instead, I drove Paul to his car, came back to my room, played a very intriguing psychoanalytic game with Anne, watched my taped Survivor episode after Chris and Anne left (Yes, I watch Survivor. I admit it! Don't get me started on that.), did some reading for Law Enforcement and Social Order, and then reflected on how tonight--- right now, sitting solo--- could be a sample of my nights during summer school.

You know what? It'll be quiet, and I most likely will face some moments of lonesomeness, but I won't let it get me down. Besides, you guys that have free time can always take a weekend of your summer to visit majestic Gainesville .