A guy stands next in the express checkout line at Publix. As he pulls out his wallet to swipe his debit card, the cashier doublechecks that the items to be swapped are indeed his. The guy quickly responds that his girlfriend asked him to buy that Vogue magazine. The girl, the whole story, is a complete lie. The guy doesn't want to buy a women's fashion magazine. He's simply hit another low point in his adoration for Cameron Diaz.

"He's good music's answer to Jimmy Buffet."
---Furio, on Jack Johnson

You can't make up an idea by yourself. All your ideas have to come from somewhere.
---Mike Shank, American Movie

(hint, hint: my birthday is in three months)

By the end of the summer, I would like to own:
When We Were Small, Rosie Thomas
Elephant, The White Stripes
Circus, Lenny Kravitz
Moodswings, Joshua Redman
Better Dayz, Tupac Shakur
Hard Candy, Counting Crows

And hopefully not:
Meet Me in Margaritaville, Jimmy Buffet
The Complex, Blue Man Group

I anticipate passing another kidney stone in the next few days, and I've made an important decision.

If it's a boy: Jagger.
If it's a girl: Roxanne.

Trivial Fact #A21
Your body begins to function abnormally after an average of 36 consecutive hours of consciousness.

Trivial Fact #D30
Exceptions to A21 can occur. For instance, after 28 consecutive hours of consciousness, one can experience the hallucination that he is simultaneously passing a kidney stone and having a panic attack.

Trivial Fact #P40
This fact is being written after 31 consecutive hours of consciousness.

Trivial Fact #M23
Prior engagements today will most likely extend the streak of conscious hours to 40, surpassing the threshold of normal functioning.

Trvial Fact #L20
Grumble ducka fudge smurfin witten puma lik.*@#%^*!#%!

Hmm... is "he doesn't love her like that" contradicted by "he could see himself marrying her"?

Tonight I counted the amount of true friends I have left from Tate High School. By true friend, I don't mean people from my hometown that I chat with all the time or the guys I hang out with. I almost mean the opposite: my true friends are the ones I rarely talk to while I'm away, and when we get together, it's as though nothing has changed. We don't play forced games of catchup--- no, "how is the semster going?" or "are you still studying to do X?" Anything that matters comes up in our normal conversation (your friends tell you the important stuff; you never have to ask). I may not see them months (or years) at a time. Honestly, no: I don't think about them all the time either. But when I see them, I am genuinely happy and wish they were neighbors more often.

1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6. Six.

I think hope each of them suspects his/her picture is in my head as I type. While still in my life of hall lockers and class bells, I expected to stay friends with some people I can now only consider "friends from high school." The one who took me around in his go-cart since kindergarten, the one who seemed to always be in my click for the weekend, the one I had a crush on junior year...

There's even one or two from my list that I didn't picture remaining a part of my life. Some storylines are meant to reach a conclusion at one scene, while others surpise you and carry on and reach new depths.

To the six: thank you truly for being my friend. Maybe I will see a few of you this weekend when I come home for Easter (After all, one of you convinced me to make the trip.).

For about two months, this local bbq place had the following enticement on their sign:

Wed Special
Chicken & Dump
4 99

My body has broken down for the night. I am speaking at a barely audible level, my eyes close unvoluntarily, and I am blacking out every time I get up.

Only the self-destruction of my body could return my feet to the ground after this high!

The high of success, the high of knowing you have learned something of substance, the high of knowing professors, doctors, and graduate students are embracing your every word as though each spit of grammar is vital to their health.

After a semester of intense intellect, today I presented my research. The culmination of three months worth of struggles, hours in the library, days of stomach-wrenching nerves returned me unfathomable dividends. Today my engine has been running on one hour of sleep and four cups of coffee, all so I could maximize my remaining time to gather my research into an hour-long presentation. I hoped my presentation would last an hour. It didn't...

I stood in front of my colleagues for two and a half hours! My demeanor, my subject matter, my case study, my suggestions, my prizes: all captivated the other researchers. These scholastic wizards not only approved of me; they embraced me while still thirsting for more. A podium separating my immature body from those I have been in awe of, admiring the contribtutions they have made...

and knowing I can one day stand aside.

No streamers. No cake with Cameron Diaz jumping out. Just an exclamation mark.

Celebrating one year here at Italarican Dot Blogspot Dot Com!

Well, once again I will have enemies. We have a ridiculously unfair dialing system in order to get Gator football tickets, and most students dial hopelessly, their ears getting red and hot with the phone constantly pressed close enough to hear an operator say, "We're sorry. All systems are busy." And for the second year in a row, while my friends may very well listen to that annoying machine for 2,3,4 days, I have fully processed my order for season tickets within the first hour. This time, though, I did it with the help of a posse back home, supported by four cell phones and two home lines. Good luck to all TRUE Gator fans who deserve to see their football team's new face in the fall.

T-minus 25 minutes until frantic UF students desparate to attain 2003 football season tickets jam all the phone lies and fry up all the cell phone towers.

In a span of three weeks, I went from questioning whether I had the ability to do independent research to being asked by my professor to help him with his own research over the summer. It is quite possible that four months after completing my first truly extensive, substantive paper, I could see my name as a credit in a published article. Looks like summer will be packed busy after all.

I may be the last person in the blogging universe to do a "Five Random Things" list, so here we go...

1) Today is my second birthday trifecta of the year. This day is even more special to me though, because in addition to the birthdays of my cute neighbor Lourdes and my good friend Nathan, today is the day my sister becomes a woman, a legal adult. Watch out, America: here comes Camille!

2) Too many musicians claim they would "walk a thousand miles" to prove/find/see their love. This is a completely arbitrary number that is always used. And I know what you're thinking: what about the Proclaimers, those twins that used to always bob their heads and sing how they would walk 500 miles? Well, the actual lyrics are, "I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more." 500 miles + 500 more = a thousand miles. If a girl ever uses this line with me, I'm going to call her bluff next time she is out of town.

3) Remember when the only dating shows on television were Love Connection and The Newlywed Game?

4) If I amass enough money to suit me for a lifetime, I would like to invest in my own restaurant. I can already envision the jazz pianist at the side bar... the lovely Hispanic firecracker who checks coats... the waiters in white shirts, tuxedo vests, and black bow ties... the complementary bottle of water with an extensive wine list pressed against it... the dark, romantic bronze walls and tables... and the menu featuring Italian dishes, cajun spices, and the finest cuts of meat. Title pending.

5) Just once I'd like to see a woman leave the table to use the restroom, and when her friend says she'll go with her, for the woman to remark, "It's okay. I've got it."

I'm happy to be imperfect. My friends like me that way.

I know she had her arm around an ATO, but I saw her having optical intercourse with me. I also saw that dude's disconcerted face, and that rocked!

A typical Beta Beta busboy on April Fool's Day:

"Hey, I just got off the phone with your mom. She died. And don't call your dad because he said he doesn't even know you anymore and wants nothing of you. April Fools! Your mom didn't die, but the stuff about your dad is true. April Fools!"

"Cool, I'm glad you're standing right there because you're not in my way. April Fools!"

"I like you, man. And it really is just a coincedence that I'm saying it so enthusiastically on this day of the calendar. I don't even believe in April Fool's Day. April Fools!"

"You're not fat. April Fools! That's a lie, though, and that's the truth, and that's the truth. and that's a lie, and that's a lie. April Fools!"

"ThisisaplateAprilFoolshahaha!"