Supplemental.

First up, Happy belated Thanksgiving to one and all. And to Tavie, Happy Throsgafen Day.
I thought I would eat more than I did Thursday; but in seeing that I actually didn't finish Christmas shopping, I decided to spread out my share of the thanksgiving meal for lunch to take to work for the next four days. That way, I'll save $20, and get some more cards or something. If anybody happens to catch those Gap Holiday candles, and they're available now, please let me know...

Lightning struck twice.
It struck three times.
I still could not believe my eyes.
I still can't.
After Saturday's fiasco, I thought that that was it for me. That was, of course, until Monday. I was at the same window, around the same time, and there she was. Waiting on the line, again. And once more, I fought to clear the line, just to get her at my window. This time, I stopped and checked for that bitch. With no sign of her, thank God, I continued to clear the line. Then...
She came to my window. Her name was Janelle. She was the nicest person I've met since her. We talked, and I found out that while under 21, she has a driver's license. Funny thing, I still don't have mine, and I'm over 21. We laughed together, and we talked some more. And as our time came to a close, I felt that she wasn't bothered by my conversing with her. Dare I say it, she seemed to enjoy it. So much so in fact, that she came this Friday. Yes, I had to work today, despite the fact that yesterday was Thanksgiving. And in the name of privacy, I'll keep what happened Thursday to myself, at least until later on. The better half of me did not want to get up today; I almost took the wrong bus, and almost slept on the job. But something told me to keep working, and before I knew it...
She was once again at my window.
You must love me, I chuckled. And some more laughs and smiles and cash later, I found out that the woman standing behind her was her mother. I was introduced (wow, on the 3rd meet, I met her mother...), and we traded niceties, and she left.
Okay, while I may be going on a tangent that may not even exist, you can't help but wonder. Three times in a row (Saturday, Monday, and Friday), she comes to my window. And everytime, I seem to learn more about her. And on the last meet, I met her mother. Ya gotta wonder, is there something there? Is there a greenlight I can dance to? Well, more on this development as time progresses...

Oh yeah, The Bitch. Something weird happened these last couple of days. On Monday, I was stationed next to her, and she, for the most part, behaved. We ate lunch together, like we were old friends laughing at the people on TV. And again today, she stood on my case to have my lunch changed so we can have lunch together again. Without much forethought, I went and switched lunchbreaks with another associate, and there we were again, sitting and talking like old friends. I had to think about it on the way home today. Was there something that happened that I missed? It was altogether too strange that I was suddenly warming up to her. I'm telling you, the powers that be are behind this. They know I can never stay angry at someone for a long period of time. And here is another clear example of that. Saturday, I would've strangled her; today, we chatted over who's Thanksgiving leftovers still look like what was served the day before (and my lamb & rice 'n peas won that debate!) Well, so much for that one. She is once again...
The GreenPoint-Old-timer.

To be concluded...

I don't want any yes-men around me. I want everyone to tell me the truth--even if it costs him his job.
Samuel Goldwyn

versus...

This paperback is very interesting, but I find it will never replace a hardcover book-- it makes a very poor doorstop.
Alfred Hitchcock

Well, the wait is officially over. My 3rd Gen 30GB iPod has arrived, and as soon as I enough testicular fortitude to open the contents of the box, you will be the first to enjoy the new experience with me; not that you really care anyways...
Holla back, from da kat unda da Kangol cap! I had one of those invisible, inaudible conversations with God over the weekend, who recommended me coming to and at you guys straight up; in essence, the powers prevented me from becoming that hate-filled alter ego I was back at War With The Mirror. And I, learning never to argue with the powers that be, have obliged. So, what do I have to do in this week's column? We talk about my week before and week ahead; respond to my iPod Addiction; Tavie wants me to respond to Michael Jackson's situation; new friends I've met; and oh yes, what happened that caused me to comprise Cursed?. Well then, let's start. And by the way, since this post was delayed, the events aren't exactly up to date. But you'll get there, momentarily:

Saturday. Work. I'm at my teller window, taking care of business as usual. SSF arrives (no, not the same one, but a different version: 5'8", long black hair, brown eyes, you know... perfect) at the bank. I was totally mesmerized by her, but the fact that I was at work seemed to return me to my senses. So, I fought to clear the line that was there so that she could be at my window. Without making it too obvious, I served my usual customers with a purpose, and all I can remember them saying was how fast and good I was...
Okay, three or four customers later, SSF comes to my window. Yes, you heard right. She was at my window; not at the teller window to my left, not at the window to my right; my window. I felt as though I won the game, or the joust. And my prize was the king's daughter for a date or something. With no time to prepare on how exactly I was going to approach her, or how I was going to do it without the whole bank knowing, I had just made a few quick observations on her movements, tone of voice, and overall attitude, and responded accordingly. We traded niceties, and the preliminaries were just about finished. This was it.
Game on.
Enter the GreenPoint-old-timer. The same blasted GreenPoint-old-timer who, for the lack of a better term, fucked my flow up with the first SSF on the bus. (Note to reader: if my language does get coarse, do forgive me.) This fucking bitch comes to my workspace, interrupts my conversation with the customer, not to mention fucks up my flow, again, and starts talking to SSF. The question she asks is something to the effect of:
"Excuse me. I know that this is rather unprofessional to be coming at you like this. But, I have a friend who works here, who really likes you. And I was just wondering, between us two, are you seeing anyone, or are you single? Or you are seeing someone? Okay, once again sorry about that, but I must say that he does think you are pretty. Okay, thanks..."
Game Over.
Game motherfucking over.
And it never even started.
The first time she fucked my flow, she hits the SSF with her umbrella, in an attempt to hit me with her umbrella, so she can get my attention, so I can turn around and buy her tea. I thought that, by far and large, was the most fucked up incident a single kat could go through. But that Saturday afternoon, that Saturday will go down in infamy. I couldn't believe the same bitch who fucked my flow the first time fucked it up again. This time, it was a blatant blow, in front of my face, so she could hook someone else up. My problem was not with the guy she tried to hook up, but with that bitch herself. She, to prevent me from saying fucked, screwed me twice!!
You know, when you win the joust game, after a long hard-fought duel, you go up to the King's daughter, and next thing you know, some rich snob snags her from your grasp; you know the feeling you get when something you worked hard to attain was taken away from you?? That is the feeling I had for the rest of the weekend. I mean, I had a total knockout at my counter, smiling at me, talking to me; something that doesn't happen everytime I walk out my apartment building. And that bitch, did that to me...
In ending this story, it goes pretty much downhill. I end up $10 over ("What did you do, cheat some old lady of her change," that old-time-bitch laughs), and as I steamed my anger my out loud on way to the bus, some Jamaican lady with her child comes up me and says I should stop talking to myself. That would also be the first time I ever told someone older than me to sod off. And if you wanna say pissed off, I think that would probably be the word I would use to describe myself for the rest of that Saturday. Whereas now, I have cooled off to the point I can reasonably discuss without swearing every other word, it was next to impossible for me that Saturday. And, it all falls back to that bitch. The same bitch who swears she knows everything, yet can't figure out why, with two daughters, she can't get a man. I am not hating her for that; I'm not disrespecting her for who she is, or her life story. I am disrespecting this bitch for what she has done; and the ignorance she carries for doing it. I know I am partially responsible for Saturday, being that I was at work. But 99.9% of the blame is going to that bitch. She doesn't even get the respect of me saying her name on my blog; she doesn't get the rank of being a GreenPoint old-timer for her nine or ten years of being there (and she is still fairly young.) She gets to be called the bitch, not out of hate, but out of disrespect; or, at least until I'm fully over what happened.
Which leads to Cursed. The series of events I've had in my love life lead me to believe that I've been cursed or something. By whom, or for what, or when, I do not know. But something is just amuck here, and, well, I don't know what to say. I'll say that it was bad timing, again. I'll say that circumstances did not allow me to win, again. I'll say, that it was just an illusion, and my guardian angel, the same one, brought me to reality. Again. I am not cursed, at least to my knowledge, and there is someone for me out there. Right? Right...

Dammit, I dislike feeling like I'm talking to myself.

In releasing my stress, we move on to the week ahead, Thanksgiving. This means turkey, more turkey, and enough leftovers for work to save me a week's worth of money. It also means being with family, loved ones, and those that treasure you the most. I don't know about those that treasure me, nor do I know of any loved ones that I'll have with me on Thursday, but I will have more family over. My other grandmother came from Florida yesterday, and will spend the week. Meanwhile, my uncles and aunts are preparing to stop by on Thursday as well, and it's gonna be fun time at da crib. Right!?
Please.
Again, I won't go into the details of why, but I'd rather have a peaceful thanksgiving with my parents (yes, my parents, not my parental-carbon-based-units) and brother. But, there are things you can't control. And things you just have to endure. At least I still have class until Wednesday, and I have to work on Friday and Saturday. Which means I won't be home longer than I have to...
It's a shame that it has to come to that.

The Michael Jackson scandal. Is this supposed to cover up the fact that the Presidential Administration is about to blow up some Middle-Eastern country or something? Is this supposed to cover some screw-job some idiot at Congress did? I mean, I have never seen the papers blow Jackson up so big since the first time he endured this back in '94, I think. For the entire week, I saw his ever-changing face, in almost every single newspaper. Okay, we throw in the JFK assassination issue, and a couple of brave NYC cops. But this week was all Wacko Jacko, and coincidentally, was around the same time his Number Ones album hit the stores.
You know, part of me wants to believe the hype. A part of me wants to say that Jackson hangs around kids too much, and yeah, it's possible that he messed up again. But after watching him for 21 years, after seeing him through all his previous struggles, after those recent documentaries/interviews, I know better. I know that this kat really cares about children. I know that he does what he can to support those who need their day brightened. I also know that kids are very easily influenced. I also know that people have a way of letting money have more precedent over ethics. This will not be the first time people have tried to milk a man for his money, nor is it the first time society puts a man down and berates him for not conforming to the norms. Then again, I do not have all the facts. So, I like everyone else will sit and watch. Watch to see how this one plays out. If in fact, this was another sham to milk Jackson out his millions, then I, like before, will shake my head in disgust. A man's love and undying concern for the world's future gets him in trouble. And another man who will bomb a country before ensuring quality education to his country's future... continues to run the country.
If something truly ain't amiss about that, then perhaps God should take me up now.

More later. Promise...

Cursed?

Today I have learned that I'm under a spell;
the only explanation for not doing so well
in a game that takes long to adjust
because in acts of desparation, men do what they must.
I lift my hands to the sky, oh Aphrodite the Mighty,
how, when, and why did you affix a curse on me?

I think of many months ago, when my time came,
that a moment I've awaited wouldn't be one in the same
with so many other encounters that went amuck,
but a strike of cold feet left me with bad luck.
Things get better second time around;
and when that time came, no improvement was found
The ride of ecstacy was over; and all I could do was howl
about the closest thing to perfect that went afoul.

A new day had come, and brought opportunity
Finally, I dug out of little self-esteem and self pity
But before I stepped to the plate, before a word was said,
Aphrodite struck down, with all hope dying or dead.
Only something in my past could explain this emotional onslaught,
doubting love, or whatever it was that She caught.
Now I'm back to square one, left questioning in the end:
Is there really a curse that was put on my head?

And, I got something else too. A freelance that isn't mine, but from someone who sent it to me. It is so awesome; I mean, the mere fact she was willing to share it with me just made me awestruck. It made me forget about the first ever STRESS FREE day at work that I had since being hired at GreenPoint. It made me forget the real reason that I came here, to blog about my new iPod acquisition (remember this date, November 19, 2003; exactly one month before my birthday.) It even made forget about the lady who was mugged on Canal Street today (more on that next time.)
So, I decided that I am gonna post this person's poem here. And personally, I want to thank Ms. Walker for sending this poem to me, in the high hopes that he sends more of her work to me. And to think, she felt pretty weird doing it, and in turn, I feel just as weird posting it! But indeed, "we all gotta do some cooky things at times." This provided the real cap of the day, or should I say, night. Here it is; I hope you enjoy it.

Touching Dreams
By Alex Walker

I tell my friends I've touched my dreams
but they don't see that possible
I can
I touch them with my mind, going over them
time
     and
         time
            again
with light, soft fingers
trying to fix these puzzles they're in
to finally understand them and enjoy them
with my heart I also touch my dreams
with love and affection
but some come from fear and hatred
and sting when touched
these aren't memories and do not fade
bundled up they stay
waiting to be sorted out
and fly like birds wanting to touch the
tip of the universe
catching a few I go over them
and unleash the many stories and feelings
like touching the sun
never what you expect and worth while
but one dream is very precious
the closest to the heart
the first opened and solved
with light, soft hands.

I got it!!!

Supplemental.

A Story of Immensely Embarrassing Proportions

No, this is not a freelance.
Just a nice story of the day I had today. A day that may have started out okay, but became a nice rollercoaster ride towards the end.
This day proves to me that not only does God have a sense of humor, but that everything happens with purpose.
We start off by waking up just in time to miss one of my classes. After a thorough shower, I head to meet my friend at Hunter, who has no problems whining that I was 30 minutes late, and that he is a businessman, caught in a unbusiness-like transaction. In actuality, I took the opportunity to make sure CompUSA still had the 30GB iPod on sale before I met him; so obviously I didn't care. After making my 1000th apology, he states that in the name of Business, I should pay for his transportation going home. I agreed just to shut him up, knowing fully well we were heading to the subway.
After that ordeal was over (and to think, I just met up with him so he could buy a Hunter College T-shirt), I went to my Cost Accounting class. It turns out I didn't do as bad I thought I did! In fact, I was 3 points shy of an A. Whodathunkit!?! Well, afterwards, I went to Computer Accounting class, and sat through my professor telling me about the aggravation of being director of Accounting at the school, his dreams of being a sportscaster, and oh yeah, the basics of QuickBooks Pro. Dying in that computer lab (usually it's the coldest room in the college; for some reason, it was rather warm), I bolted out once he gave the magic words, and proceeded to head home. As I got to the metrocard booth, I noticed that I couldn't locate the key to the door; the one thing that I used earlier today, and for some reason, couldn't find it now...

My metrocard.

Searching high and low, nothing would turn up. I checked and rechecked pockets, to no avail. Though it only had three days left, I had no money at the time, and my only backup was a $4 regular card that I found while walking with Danilo. In the midst of it all, I looked up, and lo and behold, I saw...
Nikki.
Nikki from the old Hunter block.
Embracing her, while it was something I thought I wouldn't do in a long time, was the most weirdest embrace I ever endured. It had the mixed feelings of hot and cold. It was hot because there was meaning behind that embrace from both ends; it was a long time, and we both were in the best of standings the last time we met. It was cold because of the timing; she obviously had somewhere to go, and the chat we were about to engage in would only come across as a mere annoyance, rather than catching up on the times. How do I sense these things, please don't ask. In any event, I decided to make our conversation very blunt, to which she was extremely greatful.
In returning to my dilemma, I searched, researched, and microscopically checked my outfit for the metrocard. And no success was generated. There was only one thing left to do: retrace my footsteps.
I went back to the grocery store where I bought my Pepsi Vanilla, the cashier saw nothing. I went back to the Hunter College computer lab, which finally cooled down, still no sigh of relief. Then I go to the room I had my cost accounting class, only to meet Danilo, who had an Advanced Accounting II exam a few moments later (God, please be with him.) He asks me what happened, and with some reluctance I responded. And of course, he asks me about the $4 card we found earlier, to which I said I wanted to use that in an emergency, and that the emergency hasn't arrived... yet.
I waited until the class that was in session was no longer in session, and rushed in. As it turns out, one of the GreenPoint Bank employees from the branch around Hunter not only goes to Hunter, but had class right before Danilo. With no time to stare, I mean spare, I raced through the back row, and there was...
No metrocard.
Now, I have an emergency.

Blessing Danilo before I left, I proceeded to the train station, and used the emergency card. And next thing I knew, there I was, on the 6-train.
Defeated.
How could I? I don't lose anything! That is to say, when I have 10 fully functioning fingers, I don't lose anything!! How could I have lost that metrocard now? I must be losing it!! I stood in my regret, so upset, I couldn't bear to listen to my iPod. Next thing I know, I run into an old high school friend of mine, Janay. We traded niceties, and our embrace was certainly much more welcoming than Nikki's (no offense, of course.) We sat and discussed what everybody's been up to; and to sum it up, everyone she has spoken to is either going up for Master's, or is in med/law school. It made me want to reconsider my not going for Master's, only to realize that the next step for an accounting grad is the CPA level, not the Master's. In the midst of the conversation, she asks if I have gum. I didn't italicize that for joking purposes; but back in high school, I have always been known to have a good supply of chewing gum. When they needed it most, I had a variety to choose from. A nice laugh later, I pull out my Wrigley's Eclipse spearmint gum, the patches that look more like nicotine control pills than regular sticks of gum. I slide out the gum, simulating a smoker vying for a cigarette from his pack of cigarettes, generating more laughs from Janay. And as the cigarette, I mean gum, slides out, something else also came out of the apparatus. Something thin, something yellow, and something very noticeable...

My 30-day metrocard.

As I picked it up, all I could do was laugh. Uncontrollably, and rather oddly. Janay attempted to find out why, but I was too embarrased to say, and was laughing too hard to speak. Uncomfortable, she sighed "okay," and I finally let her in on what happened. The result, two friends, laughing deliriously (that was the word I was looking for) on the train. Nice to know that God has a funny way of moving, and a reason behind it all.
Ahh, what a life.


I do apologize once again for having a very uninteresting life. And once again, I place all blame on my parental carbon based units...

The time has finally arrived!! In 16 hours, I will have my iPod, God and all else constant. I know I'm forgetting to mention something else here, but who cares??!! Let me get my sleep. I bid you all adieu!!

Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia.
Charles Schultz

**versus**

I was playing poker the other night... with Tarot cards. I got a full house and 4 people died.
Steven Wright

Dude. Someone please find me some more humourous quotes. There must be some sites dedicated to the cause. I'm now running out of them...
But in any event, que pasa from da kat unda da Kangol cap! Stress and relief can only describe what this past week has been. From midterms, to work, to more midterms, to more work, to this morning's mishap; it all seems so sudden, and yet I'm so relieved it's all over. But of course, I now know why I'm so relieved...
Because next Wednesday, I get my brand new iPod!!
Only I can get excited about stuff like that. Everyone else usually goes okay, whatever...
Midterms. I B'ed most of them. I wait results now from the Managerial Accounting exam, and the Computer Accounting exam. While I'm pretty sure I aced comp. accounting, my heart wrenches at the possibility of B'ing, or dare I say it, C'ing, the Managerial accounting exam. Not that it was totally difficult. But I have acquried the feeling one gets from not practicing enough for the big day, and feeling like you flopped. Sure, you keep abreast on the coursework, but unless you practice what you learn, you're going in half prepared. And that was the feeling I got going into that midterm. As to whether the feeling was completely accurate...
I guess I'm gonna find out Tuesday.

This morning. Saturday morning. This will go down in the books as the longest morning I've ever dealt with. We start off the night before, where after partying about, I finally parlayed back home around midnight, showered, and went to bed around 1AM. The problem at that time was, I really wasn't sleepy. So I found my iPod, and started jamming with my music until 2:30AM, when I finally dosed off...
Only to wake up 3:30AM. Aching, I thought I had one of those nightmares where I don't remember anything that happened, and I just arrive in this parallel universe. Realizing that in effect, I just dosed off, I put away my music, and dosed off again...
To look up at the clock, telling me it's 4:30AM. Damn, I thought. Then I realized what the problem might have been: I needed to use the bathroom. So I threw my robe on, and took care of my business (what, you never heard anyone say that they had to go to the bathroom on their blog??) Finally, off to bed, I said to myself (what, you never heard anyone say that they talk to themselves on their blog??) I rested my head, closed my eyes, and visions of the Tyra Banks dream can to view until...
5:30AM. I wake up again. This shit is ridiculous!! What could it be this time, I pondered. This time, I woke up to a smoke alarm. A loud, and increasingly louder, smoke alarm. I start moving around, and close to the bedroom door is the smell of burnt eggs. You know that scent, when one forgets for about 20 minutes that they were cooking eggs, and then you have the whole apartment reminding you that's something's still on the stove. I walked to the kitchen, and nothing was cooking. A small sigh of relief was quickly replaced with that of concern. If it ain't here, where is it coming from? My parental carbon based units now arise, and proceed to activate the 5 minute fire drill. All my immediate/prized possessions in my jacket, I walk outside...
Only to find my neighbors fanning out the stench of their early breakfast.

It's alright! Nothing serious. Just a little mishap, that's all."

Great.
Now 6:30AM, I'm tired and grumpy as hell, and now my mother decides she wants us to start tidying up da crib. As the men of da crib all sneered in unison, mom (who is fighting a cold, by the way) yaks back in her bedroom. With the smell of burnt eggs still in the air, I am chased from my only shelter, the living room sofa, back to the bedroom. Now 6:45AM, I said to myself it's now or never. I gotta get some sleep. And it really didn't occur to me what time it actually was, until...
7:40AM. I arose again, immensely agitated. This time I woke up to what normally wakes me up at 7AM every Saturday, my alarm clock. Some bright genius, no names mentioned, decided that he was going to hit the snooze button 4 times until he couldn't hit it no more. Dragging my ass to the shower, it is only until I dry off with a damp towel that I realize I showered seven hours ago. Now 8:15AM, I grudgingly walk out the apartment, go down the elevator (still incensed with burnt eggs), and head to the bus for work. It wouldn't be for another 4 hours until I can eat something, which was a McChicken sandwich from McDonald's, and another 10 hours before I can go back home and actually sleep. Today, I have only acquired 3 hours, 10 minutes of sleep. It is Pepsi vanilla and cookies and cream ice cream that's allowing me to stay up and post something right now.

Come to think of it, the rest of the post can wait until tomorrow.
I'm dead tired.
Until then...

Supplemental.

I thought I'd take a break from variable costing, absorption costing, and activity based costing (all necessary for my midterm tomorrow) to tell you my review of The Matrix Revolutions. I found the end to be quite different to how, in my opinion, it was supposed to end. I imagined that at some point, with all the religious aspects of the film, that the lead would assume his place and finish the job. Nothing pleased me more than Agent Smith being defeated (c'mon, y'all knew that was supposed to happen). But I felt that the end left me yearning for something. I won't spoil it for anyone who has yet to see it, but should those Waschowski Brothers make another sequel to what might as well be a completed trilogy, then they have something to fall back on.
Action and visual FX were nothing short of the poetic motions of the first two films. There's more dialouge, usually relating to what Neo knows, what he doesn't know, what he must do, and the fact that everything that has a beginning has an end. Why they couldn't do more with the Niobe character is beyond me; she showed more potential here than in the previous film. The Lincoln character was cool, and even cooler was his wife, who totally kicked ass in the picture. Morpheus was the Miracle Man we all loved, and Trinity, well, was Trinity. In essence, for an action film, there was an excellent amount of balance in acting scenes between the lead cast and the supporting cast, something that's very rare.
What more can one guy say? Other than one part religion, two part visual effects, and a reset button (hint, hint), this film did a nice job of concluding the saga, should it end here; and gave us something to look forward to, if it doesn't end. After all, while everything that has a beginning has an end, no one truly knows when that end comes. This film gets a 9.5 out of 10; something about that ending...

Thanksgiving is approaching! And for my neighbors, so is Christmas. Apparently it isn't coming quick enough, so they broke out the Christmas music already! Thank God for my iPod, otherwise I'd be freaking out! Ah, which reminds me...
9 Days away until Bigger brother arrives!!

Okay, back to Cost Hierarchy...

Supplemental.

My iPod turns 11 months next week! And in exactly two weeks, God and all else constant, it will have a bigger brother! What am I doing in the little time I have to celebrate, I am converting my smooth jazz collection (manually) to AAC. Furthermore, I have recently acquired a new iCable, which allows me to connect the iPod, or any minijack device, to the stereo. Why buy that when I the iTrip, because reception's best with stereo cables. And the proud new owner of my 2nd gen'er will also be the proud of owner of the iTrip.
Also, I am deciding who gets my first iPod. And you know what, this blog is going to help me.


Possible candidates are as follows:
My brother, my mom, Tavie, Gabriel, and Brian. To all others: take no offense. You must consider the fact that this machine is almost a year old. These are the only people who have expressed the most interest in acquiring it. Now, let's start with Brian. Pros: we've been cool throughout college; considered one of da kliq; lot of music collection traded with mine. Cons: He uses PC, and favors the MiniDisc. While I can't say being a Windows user is a reason not to give him the iPod, it's good enough for me. Brian's out.
Gabriel is next. Pros: friend for the ages, a lot in common, vast musical taste means he'll most likely favor the machine. Cons: Not totally kliq material, in fact, he's the most odd friend of the bunch; and he uses PC. I am not favoring PC users for some reason. Okay, Gabe's out.
Next, Tavie. Pros: she's Tavie. What bigger pro can I possibly need!?! Also, Mac user (big plus); has a brewing collection; makes a great "I-said-I-was-going-to-then-I-changed-my-mind-now-I-change-it-back-again-cause-its-my-prerogative" Christmas present. Con (and perhaps the biggest one): it's a year old. I do not give anyone no matter how close they are to me year-old stuff, unless of course, if I was to just give it away. Which is exactly what I'm gonna have to do here. And sorry dude, I'd feel funny giving my old stuff away...
...Unless it were of course, to family.
Which brings me to the final two participants: my mother & brother. While I 75.98% of the time love my momma, my brother and I remain cool 100% of the time; he'd be real proud to strut down the block with me, listening to our iPods in stride. And I have the type of brother that if something were to happen to my 3rd Gen'er, God forbid, then he'll let me use is, no questions asked. How's that for a brother-to-brother relationship?! On the same note, him bringing that iPod to his high school is only an invite for trouble. I know no other 16 year old with an iPod, so he'll be the first. I can just warn him to leave it home, but the temptation of 2000 songs in your pocket will make almost anyone toss their CD player.
That leaves my momma, who mind you, I love 75.98% of the time. While 35-45% of my music originated from her music, she'll have a hard time adjusting to the likes of Elephant Man and Capelton. That means reformatting the iPod, and customizing it to her tastes, which are basically the likes of Luther Vandross, Whitney Houston, and the entire Winans family. There is the 9-months-of-labor-to 9-hours-of-delivery routine which she'll run at me every chance she gets, which I often counter with the 900th,1000th,1000000th-time-she-runs-that-line-on-me-she-gives-me-labor-pains complaint. What better way to show my appreciation than to think of her first, and bring her some extra joy. And what a better way to get back at her for all the grief she gives me than to give my 2nd gen'er to my brother. Let's see: a nice gesture from a kind son vs. a new music toy to play with. Reformatting my first baby vs. letting my brother handle it himself. The one who gave me live vs. the one who gave me support in dealing with the one who gave me life.
Hey, this is a tough one! At least my mother doesn't read my blog. Come to think of it...
And the winner, and the most likely to retain the 2nd Gen iPod is... my mother. Hope she enjoys all of Luther, Regina, Whitney, and Aretha (no rhyming intended) in an electronic stack of cards...

WWE must start using their noggins (assuming they haven't bashed them in with chairs and such), and start releasing some video libraries on DVD. Until they can fix the current stagnation wrestling is seemingly going through, why don't they push some old skool on us?! Let us start, of course, with the Bret Hart definitive. Not that From The Vault crap. I'm talking a serious collection of his best performances, including some of the matches from RAW or Nitro that we might have missed. Like Hart/1-2-3 Kid, Hart/Benoit in the Owen Hart memorial match Even Bret/Owen in the infamous lumberjack match. Those bouts, among others, should definitely be included. And if they think that lack of buyers are the problem, I know a couple of hundred NY'ers who wouldn't mind shelling out the same $20 they shelled out for that 1/2 in 1/2 Shawn Michaels: From The Vault two disc set.
Also, we definitely can go for a Ric Flair definitive. For those who don't know why the 16-time world champ is da real deal, show them. The wars with Sting, Dusty Rhodes, Ricky Steamboat, and Randy Savage were the best of his time. He was the friggin king of the cage! Why can't we bring back those memories?!
Okay, they are planning to do that. Well, what about Hulk Hogan? The Magnificent Muraco? Go far back, and bring us Bruno Sammartino & Pedro Morales!! Hell, what about Andre The Giant???!!!
You see, it ain't that difficult to think about. If Michael Jackson can come back with one definitive collection after another, after another, after another, and he gains sales from it, why can't WWE think that way?!
Just some friendly advice from a 14-year old wrestling fan.

Note to self: must find this song:
Grazin In The Grass - Rick Braun/Boney James

Well folks, that's it for now. if anything new develops, I'll be back. Until next week...

I'm astounded by people who want to 'know' the universe when it's hard enough to find your way around Chinatown.
Woody Allen

Okay. Or...

I told my kids, "Someday, you'll have kids of your own." One of them said, "So will you."
Rodney Dangerfield

Whichever quote makes you laugh, start reading from that quote.

In any event, holla from da Kat unda da Kangol cap! Another stressed out week that I've successfully undertaken, and now I'm left sweeping up the debris; as though I were sanitation cleaning up after the West Indian Day parade. Midterm grades have not come back to me as yet, and I learned just this Monday that I had yet again two more midterms; one the following Tuesday (that being the Tuesday that just passed), and my second Managerial Accounting exam next Tuesday. Absorption costing, ABC costing method, variable/fixed/mixed costing, things that nature.

**In Ben Stein's nasal voice**
Wow.

The midterm I took on Tuesday was a Computer Accounting Systems midterm, where basically you work on Microsoft Excel for an hour, creating portfolios and pie charts and horizontal/vertical analysis charts and such. I now realize why I didn't sweat it. When you've been working on Excel since Junior High school, things stick to memory. But, on a serious note, as soon as I find out my grades, y'all will be the first to know. On to other stuff...

Other than that, I missed an important day on Wednesday, and right now, I'm frantically finding ways to make up for it. I'd rather not go into specifics now, at least, not until I get things back in order. These last few sentences for me will just serve as a reminder of what to discuss when it's all said and done...

... Well guess what? I didn't have to make it up after all!! On Wednesday 10/8, I was supposed to go to the doctor for a meningitis shot or something of that effect for school. And I never made it to the appointment, being that I was at work. See, I got a notice from my school saying that it was imperative that I fill out some form saying I either had the shot, or will take the shot, within 30 days, otherwise I will not be able to attend classes. As it turns out, I had a meningitis shot 4 years ago, prior to starting college! And on top of that, that notice was really meant for freshmen & sophomores living in the college dorms. How about that!?! At least I'll get my 12 credits for killing myself...

I gotta say though, my Econometrics midterm was a killer. Three questions, split into 2-3 major parts per question. With the exception of Miami Nie, no one finished the midterm!! Seriously, no one finished! Did I have time to complain about it, nope. Because immediately following that test, I went up 4 flights of stairs to take my Federal Income Taxation midterm. I had to take several breaths and steps back, and by the time I returned to the heart of the matter, I was actually able to B-ce, if not A-ce, the test. Some great stuff I must have been on. I went home, getting ready to go to the bar as an invite from one of my friends; only to realize that I have work the following morning, and I've only been there two months. Nuts...

Another thing that has been sticking in my head for some time: Where's Mikey? I know where Miami Nie" and Da Hoodrat" are; Nie just hasn't found any new freestyles to write, and Brian just remembered he had a Xanga site. But Mikey has no such excuse. And I don't wanna put up dead weblogs on my blog...
Maybe I should call him to find out what's up, eh...

I guess if you can recall my first attempt to get lightning to strike twice, then you pretty much would have guessed to yourself that I had tried again and again to see what happens. Well, guess no more, because I have. I purposely leave da crib 7:45AM every time I have to go to work, catch the 7:55AM bus everytime, in the high hopes that it can happen again. To no avail. Then, on the way to work this morning, I thought of three possibilities of why my hard efforts have gone unsuccessful:
1 - She just happened to catch that bus. She might be using an earlier bus, or possibly a later one. Maybe that's where my focus should lie...
2 - I'm making a painting out of a mirage. If you don't understand the analogy, maybe this really didn't happen, and my imagination has suddenly crossed over, with the GreenPoint-Old-Timer jerking her umbrella at me to return me to my senses. Or maybe, just maybe...
3 - The SSF was Nedra playing mind games. What if she caught my fotolog, saw me with my iPod on the bus, put A & B together, and decided to lead me on? Long shot, right? I know Nedra, that couldn't possibly have been you. But it was just a thought...