BUT WAIT...There's One More

All right!  Last post, second funny moment story.

I was chilling with some friends.  We had no idea what we really wanted to do so we ended up going to Wal-Mart, for the heck of it.  After all, anything is fun if you’re with fun people.

So there we were, in Wal-Mart walking around for no reason whatsoever.  And when you do that in Wal-Mart, well you’re bound to pick up some Mountain Dew and maybe a few donuts to boot.  We decided to dispense with the “we don’t really need this stuff” phase and just buy the goods.  Once the goods were bought we went back to the car—there were only four of us so we all fit in one—and piled in.  Then we debated for a while about where to go next. 

We eventually decided that, even with the donuts, we were hungry, and as I was the one driving I directed our path to the nearest Applebee’s.  It being late at night and all of us being rather high on caffeine, I punched the accelerator as I entered the parking lot, roaring down the somewhat straight stretch.  Then this dude walks out right in front of me.  I have no idea where he came from or how he got there but he was there and I hit him, dead on, at a fairly high speed.  He bounced off the bumper, hit the windshield, and thumped onto the roof before hitting the ground.

I slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt, and we all sat in silence for at least thirty seconds.  Then, and I know how horrible this sounds, I started to laugh.  I have no idea why.  I mean, I just hit a dude with my car, and for some reason it struck me as hilarious, and as I began to laugh, everyone else did too. It was like our moral compasses had been temporarily turned off so that we could laugh at the fact that I possibly killed a guy.  We weren’t even in the laughter phase of shock or anything, this was genuine laughter and we even started imitating how the guy looked when he bounced off the bumper, which made us laugh even harder.

As I think back on it now, I have no idea how we found any humor in the situation.  Yeah, everyone laughs at the fail videos when people get hit in the crotch, head, stomach, or pretty much any part of their bodies, but that’s watching it from a distance.  It doesn’t matter there because we don’t know the people.  But come on, that’s not supposed to mean that we laugh at serious things like potentially killing a guy.  Yet that’s what we did.  Even as we got out of the car to go check the dude we were still laughing.  Seeing his body sprawled out all crooked on the pavement sobered us up, but there were still a few chuckles going around.  

Those died completely, though, when I checked his pulse and told my friends to call an ambulance.

Now as I hope you were able to tell, the story above is entirely fictitious.  If you were not able to tell, I apologize for any undue trauma I may have caused you.  It’s just that when I got to these blog posts, I was having trouble knowing what to write.  Not because I haven’t been laughing with my friends, because I have been laughing plenty.  But I haven’t had one of those gut wrenching, laughing so hard I’m crying incidents in quite a while, and it’s kind of depressing.  So I made something up. 

Although, thinking about it, if this type of thing did ever happen to me, late at night when I’m with my friends, I honestly think my first reaction would be laughter.

Oh Wait...

What’s that?  You thought I was finished?  Done?  Gone from your life forever?

Well sorry to disappoint, cause I’m back.  As you have no doubted deduced by the fact that you are reading this. 

Why am I back though?  Why would anyone wish to come back to this desolate place?  It’s not by choice, believe me.  I would much rather be kicking back, sipping SunnyD and slaying monsters on my Nintendo DS.  Sounds awesome, right?  Instead, though, I get to write you this post.  All about an incident that will be completely boring to you.  Because this is the post where I deal with an instance in which my friends and I collapse in helpless gales of laughter.  Wait, you might say, that sounds somewhat entertaining.  

Did you know that Neil Armstrong used to make lame jokes about the moon and then sigh and say “I guess you had to be there?”

The above is an example of a joke made funny through the value of pain and truth.  The pain is that no one gets the joke while the truth is that in many such cases you really do have to be there to understand.  Such, I believe, is the case for most, if not all, of such stories as the one I’m about to tell.  It is funny to me, it is funny to my friends, to you I anticipate, at most, slightly amusing.

Now, having set it up so that you are dreading the coming tale (or eagerly anticipating it, depending on how you take things) I shall begin. 

For it to make sense, I have to begin the day before the incident.  It was Thanksgiving, dinner was cooking and football was on.  My older brother vacated his spot on the couch to grab a snack and I walked in and took his place. As you can no doubt imagine, this sparked a wrestling match in which there was much grunting, head locking, and arm twisting.  This lasted for some time and was ended when the Cowboys made a touchdown.

Approximately thirty minutes after, and this is the important part, I lost my voice.  Poof gone.  That was surprising, for I was not sick in any way.  After making completely sure that I was not sick I came to the conclusion that somewhere in the wrestling match something had happened to kill my voice, at which point I simply hoped that it was not permanent (spoiler, it wasn’t). 

Anyway, after that we had a wonderful Thanksgiving and blah blah blah.  The next day is when the incident actually occurred.  As you know, the day after Thanksgiving is known as Black Friday.  So on Friday one of my friends—who was coming over that night—called and said he was going to Wal-Mart with some buddies because they could and wanted to know if I wanted to come.  Obviously I said yes.  The annoying part was that my voice was not nothing more than a whisper, something I had to explain to my friend, and then again to his friends (and every single person I met after that).

It’s late and we’re in Wal-Mart.  I’m with everyone and they all want to go one way while I want to go the other so I just start walking the way I wanna go.  My friend shouts after me, asking where I’m going and so I turn around and tell him.  In my whisper of a voice.  From twenty feet away.  That produced a chorus of “what did he say?” And that made me laugh, although with the rest of them.  It wasn’t a gut-wrenching, can’t breathe, about to die type of laugh.  It was a quiet chuckle that stuck around for the rest of the evening and still comes to me now as I think back on it.  It was one of those laughs that never goes away and you don’t forget, not because anything was particularly funny, simply because it happened when it happened where it happened.

That night we did plenty of other interesting things, among which was a Chinese fire drill, a three liter diet coke mixed with Mementos, and much Mountain Dew.  But it was that one incident that I will remember, retell, and laugh.

Well that and the Chinese fire drill.

Tis Finished

The end has come. No more shall I meet with the one called Amber, for our time is finished. So let me regale you with a tale of our final meeting.

It was nothing special.  In fact, it was a rather bland, normal event.  The obvious topics for conversation were the holidays fast approaching.  For Thanksgiving she, unfortunately, does not get to go home.  Instead she shall be making her own feast with supplies from our local Kroger, a happy, jolly place.  However it simply increases her excitement for Christmas, which she is really looking forward to because then she’ll be back in China and won’t have to speak English anymore.  And we all know how big of a pain English is.

English and Christmas and Thanksgiving aside, we also talked about the looming finals and what pains those are too.  We’re both worried about the tests that have no method of practice for them except to read the material over and over.  Those are both the most boring to study for and the hardest, a deadly combination if there ever was one. 

Once we got off those mainstream topics we delved into deeper and more important things.  Like seeing people you know around campus.  Especially when you see them but they don’t see you.  Then you can stare at them creepily and freak everybody around you out.  After a few seconds of the creepy stare you go up behind them quietly and stand behind them, just staring.  When they finally turn around, that’s when it’s really hilarious.

Of course, I don’t do that.  Other people do.  Not me.  I would never.

Moving on, we went into even deeper discussions.   Like, erm, the value of skimmed milk over 2%?  Well, okay, maybe we didn’t talk about that, but we did touch upon cowboys!  Turns out she’s taking a field trip to one of the Fort Worth tourism spots.  I have no idea which one because I know about as much as she does when it comes to what’s around here outside of campus.  Once she takes the field trip though, she’ll probably know more than me.  Ah well, such is life. 

I have no idea why I said that.  Somehow it seemed appropriate.

Anyhow, let’s move on to the final farewell.  It was a deeply moving event.  With many tears shed, it was drawn out far longer than necessary.  Amber couldn’t let go, couldn’t move on with her life. I told it her it wasn’t her, it was me, but she didn’t know how to cope with life here without me.  When I told her we could stay in touch and still be friends, she slapped me and walked away.

The above paragraph is the dramatized version.  In reality we said goodbye, gave each other an awkwardish hug, and went our separate ways.  The dramatized version was so much more interesting.

All in all, I quite enjoyed my time with Amber.  It made me broaden my horizons past what I knew and was familiar with into the great unknown of China.  And I actually learned a good amount therein.

So yup, cool experience.  Thank you and goodnight. 

What is This?

There are several things I could do with this post. 

For one, I could recount the exact details of my latest meeting with Amber, all the way down to where we sat and what we were wearing.

For another, I could dance all around the subject, weaseling in just enough references to the meeting to be able to call this post a conversational partner post.

For a third, I could begin the post with several options for how to continue the post—just to procrastinate and jack up the word count—and then move into the real body of the post which will cover the conversation I had with Amber, but in such a way as to not recount the conversation with Amber whatsoever.

Hm.  This is a tough choice.  All three of those options are ever so enticing.  If you hadn’t noticed, though, I’ve already done the first and second options.  So really, there’s only one option, which would be the third one.  But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?  You’re a smart one like that.

Let us move from the pretense and begin the story, shall we? 

The BLUU is as good of a place to start as any.  It’s a good place to start because, well, that’s where I was.  Now I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking that I was at the BLUU to meet with Amber, and also that I said I was going to not recount the conversation with Amber whatsoever.  You’re wrong.  Well, kind of.  So keep those smart-aleck thoughts to yourself as I continue, if you would be so kind.

Now, I was in the BLUU, right?  Yes, of course I was.  Because I was hungry, and when I’m hungry I go to the BLUU.  Unless of course I’m avoiding people.  In this is case, however, I was not avoiding people, so I was in the BLUU.  When I entered the BLUU, it was pretty empty.  There were a couple workers at Union Grounds, a few people tucked in the back corner talking over coffee, and then, empty. 

As I was surveying the area, I was approached by a girl of Asian descent who happened to be wearing a bright yellow sweater with a hood.  It looked very comfortable.  This girl greeted me, and I returned the courtesy gesture.  It was at this point that we sat down, and for no particular reason, began to converse about random subjects of little importance. 

I would like, at this point, to stress the fact that this random Asian girl in the yellow sweater with a hood was a complete stranger.  Now that I have stressed that fact, I shall return to the story.

Where was I?  Ah yes, little importance.  To continue on that note, at some point I inquired to see if the girl was hungry.  She made mention to the fact that she was refraining from eating dinner in order to maintain the same weight and shape as she had at the beginning of the semester so that she will not receive any comments on it from her parents when she goes back home.  Thus we remained seated by Union Grounds, and I internally debated whether or not I should purchase a caffeinated beverage. 

It was around this point, I believe, that we were approached by several other international students.  In the end our motley group contained America, China, the Netherlands, and Denmark.  These others came for coffee and then stayed for no palpable reason.  Our conversation then inevitably delved into native languages and the differences therein.

From there we moved to trampolines.  The transition to get on that subject is a rather fuzzy memory and may or may not have involved alcohol.  Whatever the case may have been, we got there, and it developed that the Netherlands and Denmark were venturing out to a building with a floor of trampolines.  For whatever reason I decided to add America to their mix, a suggestion with which they were delighted.  I said farewell to my Asian acquaintance and departed.

Postscript:  I lied.  Where, when, and why are for you to decide.

A Fond and Frank Farewell

This, my friends, is the last reflection you shall be reading for the class of Dr. Dan Williams.

That, however, does not mean it will be great or innovative in any way.  In fact, this will probably be one of the more boring ones, for in this one I am going to take the theme of reflection and learning seriously.  How shall I do that?  Thank you for asking.  Today I’m going to look at what I’ve learned in college so far, and how I have changed in the three months I’ve been here.

The answer to that latter question would have to be not much.  Not much at all.  I am still the same person as when I left home.  I haven’t changed the slightest.  That may or may not be a good thing.  I guess it would depend on who you’re asking.  Personally I think there’s nothing wrong with that, because I was happy with who I was when I came here and I’m still happy with that person.  I could be better, sure.  We can always be better. The thing is that I could be a heck of a lot worse.  I could be on drugs and failing all my classes, but I’m not. 

Having established that I’m not any worse than before, it now begs the question of whether or not I’m any better.  I am somewhat more knowledgeable, and I use the word somewhat with a purpose.  This being first semester and all, my classes are intros and beginnings.  Merely a step past common sense (except math, math just isn’t common sense at all).  The things I’m learning are basically fine-tuning what I already know about these subjects, not to mention giving me bigger and more sophisticated words with which to describe these topics to everyone back home. That isn’t to say that it’s not interesting, just that I haven’t made any enormous leaps in my education this semester.  Except with humor.  My knowledge on that subject has skyrocketed and I’ve been so very fascinated with it (I still hate Morreall).  I also have greater appreciation for Canada (well, as much as you can for Canada).  However dismissive I might sound, though, these classes have given me a solid foundation for next semester, something I very much needed.

So in knowledge we have improvement, how about other areas?  As a person am I better?  The same?  Maybe even a tad worse?  What has this experience shown me?

I have discovered that I am much more of a loner than I had thought.  I would have to say that it is a side effect of my homeschooling, because the only other option is that I’m a natural recluse.  While I don’t deny that, for it may be true, I prefer to consider it a conditioning rather than a natural born tendency.  Either way, it is there.  I avoid people. 

Not to the point where I don’t leave my room except for classes, but there have been more than a few times when I have not gone to the BLUU simply because I did not want to come in contact with people.  Many times I have sat down with a book or TV show rather than go out amongst the masses.

Sometimes I don’t know why I’m like that.  It’s not that I hate people.  Quite the opposite.  I thoroughly enjoy hanging out with my friends and meeting new ones.  Most of the time.  Then something happens and socializing sounds like the most unappealing thing in the world.

If I take a good, long, honest look at myself, I can find why that is, and it is a self-centered reason.  People have problems.  People talk about their problems.  People unrealistically represent their problems and shift the fault to everyone except themselves.  That’s what friendship is for.  To have people who will listen to your problems.  And there are times I simply have zero desire to listen to those problems.

What about going to the BLUU though?  There’s no direct contact needed there, right?  Well, to put it bluntly, I am so very arrogant.  You may not be able to tell right off, if ever, but I am.  I see the world differently than most people, and I have a low tolerance for those who cannot see.  People talk about their problems and I see the solutions.  Almost always it is directly in front of their faces.  It isn’t a problem with someone or something else, it is a problem with the way the complainer acts and/or lives daily.  Whatever it is, it is clashing with something else in my troubled friend’s life, causing his (or her) problem and he (screw gender correctness) is unable to humble himself enough to acknowledge this and fix it.  Nothing I say will help, for the last thing anyone wants to do after complaining about a problem and berating all those involved is to admit that they were the problem in the beginning. 

Thus I nod.  I smile.  I say the appropriately sympathetic things.  For I know that if I say what I am thinking, it won’t be received.  So I live on in silence, convinced that I am, overall, more intelligent that the majority of those I meet, young and old alike and only proven wrong in a few rare cases.  This was something I had suspected about myself earlier, but my college experience has confirmed it for me. 

Now I shall bid you adieu.  From my reflections, at least.  I hope you enjoyed them, for I have been remarkably frank herein.  

Another Day, Another Meet

Good evening.  Or morning, or afternoon, or whenever you happen to read this.

Yesterday I met yet again with my conversational partner, known to you as Amber.  Some of the first words out of her mouth this time were “Okay, tell me if this is common in America”.  That got my interest right away.

Turns out Amber has been having some trouble with her roommate.  Roommate has been doing some things that are not cool with Amber, and when Amber asks about it and/or outright says “not cool”, roommate replies with “it common in America” (her roommate is from China too, I might add) and continues to do her own thing. 

So I told Amber that while it wasn’t unnecessarily an uncommon thing here, it was definitely considered not courtesy if it made your roommate uncomfortable.  That got us onto when and how to switch rooms and whatnot because it was making Amber uncomfortable and she wanted to switch as soon as possible.

Once that serious stuff was out of the way, we went on to more frivolous subjects, such as school.  I have found that Amber has what sounds like the most awesome class ever.  It’s a lunchtime class, and what they do is each day the professor takes them out somewhere in the area for exploration and whatnot, and then they go eat lunch out and about somewhere before coming back.  That sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.  Exploring the area and eating off campus?  I’m thinking yes.

Then we went to the opposite spectrum of our boring classes, which for me is definitely math.  She agreed with that, laughing at the fact that she breaks the stereotype of Asians being good at math.

At some point she asked me if I knew how to drive and I said yes, which seemed to surprise her a bit so I asked about it.  Turns out that in China you can’t drive at all until you turn eighteen.  No permits or any type of preparation like that.  Once you’re eighteen there, you go in, take a class or something and get your license.  Simple as that.  The drinking age of twenty-one here also surprised her, because there is no real set age in China.  She only found out that there was even a limit here when she was at the store with her friends and they tried to buy some alcohol.  We seem to be finding new cultural differences like that each time we talk.

When we talked about free time it brought us to the subject of movies.  For Amber there aren’t many options in that area here in the States.  She doesn’t like to watch our movies very much, because they’re hard to understand without subtitles and you can’t get subtitled movies online easily.  So she only really watches Chinese movies, which poses a whole new problem in that most Chinese movies won’t stream in the States.  It’ll just give her the “unavailable for streaming in this country” error (which is really annoying if I do say so myself).

It was somewhere around this point that I had to rush off to another appointment (aka ping pong playin’ with a buddy), so we said goodbye.

And that, my friends, is the tale of my Idon’tknowwhatnumberth meeting with Amber.

The Return to the Meet

Today was a dramatically important day filled with very important happenstances. 

Actually, it was more like just a normal day in which I met with Amber.  But that in itself is pretty important considering that we haven’t met for several weeks now.  Communication was slow, then there was fall break, then I was like “holy crap semester’s almost over” and so I texted her and she texted me back and I texted her back and she texted me back and I said cool and then we met up today.

So yeah, that’s how that happened.  We met up in the BLUU once again.  I got there a few minutes early, and when Amber arrived she snuck up behind me and scared me.  She has a good sense of humor.  Haha.  Hilarious.  

Seeing as how Halloween was last night we started off on that topic.  She was very disappointed in me for not doing anything and that in turn made me pretty disappointed in myself.  She, on the other hand, had a very active Halloween, doing stuff around campus and then going to a haunted house with some friends and dinner afterward.  The haunted house scared her pretty bad because in China the haunted houses don’t have real people walking around, just machines and stuff.  Thus the people popping out gave her serious scares.

Then we got into school.  Just love talking about school.  Found that her classes and whether she moves forward in the program or not is dependant more on a continual status, rather than test grades and whatnot.  Which sounds kinda nice, but also like it would be a lot more pressure day to day.  I think I’ll stick with tests.  That way I at least have the opportunity to cram and fail rather than continually fail day after day.  Something that I am most certainly not doing.  Why would you think such a thing?  I would never cram and fail!  Cram and succeed, now that’s an entirely different story.  Keep in mind though that so long as I do succeed, that’s what really matters.

The schoolwork took us back to the topic of Watership Down which I had given to her on our last meet, if you so happen to remember the last post concerning this event.  It being a pretty long book, she was unable to begin it as she has to read a new book each four weeks.  Actually turns out that there is a movie for the book, an animated one.  I was not aware of this fact, so now I gotta watch the movie to see how much they butchered it.  Anyhow, books brought us to Tarzan and at first she didn’t know what I was talking about.  Then I got to the part where it was a Disney movie and the light bulb went off over her head.  The book is an amazing work, I might add here, for all you ignorant people who also were not aware that the movie is based off a book.  The movie is nothing like the book, and the only reason that is in any way acceptable is because it was made by Disney.  If a serious movie was made following the book, it would have to be R if any degree of authenticity was desired.

Anyway, back on topic.  Somehow books turned into weather and we discovered that China went by Celsius rather than Fahrenheit.  So I was talking about how it was going to be sixty degrees for the game tomorrow and she was rather disbelieving.  We compared phone weather apps and hers said around 10 degrees tomorrow.  Metric system, Celsius, bleh.

Then a guy walked by dressed like he was going on a safari or something and he was carrying was look like a pellet rifle.  That surprised Amber a bit, because in China no guns whatsoever are allowed.  If they find even a few bullets on you it’s jail time for a year or two.  Five years if you have an actual firearm.  And then each extra count (two guns, three guns, etc) doubles the sentence.  So when I told her that most Texans own at least one gun and that it is legal to carry them around in cars and whatnot she was even more surprised.  She had heard from someone that if there was a burglar in your house you were legally excused for shooting that person, so we discussed that a bit.  It was a foreign concept to her all around, while I couldn’t imagine not being able to play with guns.

It was at that point that I had to get to work.  We set up our next meet there so that we wouldn’t have another three week gap and then said our farewells.