Making Important Decisions

I'm not impulsive.  Not completely, at least.  When I make decisions, I thoroughly think over the possible consequences of all the different outcomes.  It's just what I do.  I don't like making impulse decisions, and when I do I often regret them, so I normally try and avoid them.  That's just me, though.  Everyone deals with it differently.  Let's see...

So, today I went out and bought tons of different nuts and bolts to make a camera dolly for filming.  I realized that when the total came up to $50 for just the nuts and bolts, I had made a mistake.  If it's only $50 for those, what about the 12 skateboard wheels and 2 3' angle aluminums I was supposed to buy?  In all, it'd basically round out to around $100 for it all.  And so now I need to decide if I should continue with my project, or take them all back and just buy a pre-built dolly for $100 on eBay to use.  This would probably be miles better than any dolly I could make, but then I'd have to wait to get it...  Who knows.

Either way! I made the decision before I even calculated the cost, and that was a big bummer for me.  I don't like acting on impulse or doing things before I have all the information.  When I make big decisions, I try and have all the information down before I know what I'm about to do.  I do as much research as I can and try to figure out what's going to happen before I take the dive, and I feel that's the best way to go about it.  I don't like making promises I can't deliver.  When I say I'll get something done, I'll normally get something done.  And that goes for all of these blogs and whatnot.  I've just been lazy and bored, lately, so they're taking longer and longer to get done.

But that's how I go about it...

I can Multitask... Sort of...

Contrary to popular belief, I'm... okay at multitasking.  At least, I used to be.  All them multitasking powers have seemed to have left my system, lately.  I'm not sure why, though.  I've gotten lazy and lethargic, and I don't know what to do about it.  I can't bring myself to write anything--at least not very much.  I'm failing to get work done, and who knows why.  I'm just distracted by so many things, and I don't know what to do to fix it!

I've lost interest in many things, as well.  Writing, reading, drawing; it's all become boring!  Taking pictures is still fun, and I haven't been able to make any movies lately, considering that not many people really want to make movies right now.  Oh, well, I'm filming this Sunday, so that's good.  And I'm making my own darkroom!  So that'll be fun to do, as well.  Nothing like experimenting with stuff on your own when you can't seem to find anything to do.

Oh, yeah, multitasking.  When it comes to talking while I work, I think I excel at that.  I've been able to be in my Algebra class and talk it up while I work on all my homework, and I don't get caught up on anything.  Others are able to do that, as well, though that Swedish kid seems to suck at it.  He's Swedish, though, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.  Just this once.  I haven't been multitasking during this blog, though.  I've kept my attention on this and this only, which is why I think I've been able to write this much.

God, I'm having trouble doing things lately...  Even typing is becoming hard to do!  I wonder why that is...

Valentine's Day

All right, all right, all right, so let me tell you how this whole Valentine's Day thing started.  It's a long, completely unremarkable tale about a man that, quite frankly, was too big of an idiot to exist in the first place.  Not only is it a sad, disgusting idea of a holiday, it is also for tools.  You tools, you.

Okay, it's not for tools.  And it's not too bad of a holiday, but let me give you the rundown:

You see, people try to tell us that it was started because of some dude with the last name of Valentine, or something, was in prison and he died.  Then his lady said "For my Valentine" or something, and then proceeded to ditch him for a wealthier bad boy that had a motorcycle.  That's right--a motorcycle!  Anyways, minus the motorcycle part, everyone knows this is complete nonsense.  The true foundations of Valentine's Day were brought about after a bunch of candy companies (read: Hershey's, Wonka, Nestlee, etc.) realized that there are two things women love: money and chocolates.  And boy, do they love chocolates.

Now, these companies were always drinking up the accolades.  After all, why wouldn't they?  Who doesn't like a classic Hershey's Kiss?  I'll tell you who doesn't: Communists.  They decided that they couldn't get enough money.  No, the only way to get more was to exploit one of the easiest emotions there is to exploit, love.  Of course, some would argue, "But Drew!  Love isn't exploitable!  Why not have a Greed or Gluttony Day instead?"  To that, I say, shut up.

So the plan was hatched after much deliberation, and they set into effect Valentine's Day, based off of Saint Valentine, a chocoholic that died due to a broken heart.  Authorities say it had to do with the massive amounts of cholesterol and sugar that were pumped through his system, but we all know that's a myth.

And so, every year, the candy companies make bank (a lot of bank) off of hormone-driven teenagers and that single lady that's too self-conscious to deal with being the only one in the office that doesn't receive some chocolates and sends some to herself as a way of coping with her slowly fading physical looks, leading to her inevitable death as a stay-at-home wife with four more kids than she would've wanted.

All of this information was taken from the incredibly reputable source of Wikipedia.

I Can Has Cheezburger?

Seriously.  They're so delicious: the bubbling cheese as it slowly slips its way down the sizzling, juicy burger.  The soft, warm buns (no pun intended) that case the beautiful flavor of the vinegary and delicious ketchup compliment the overall satisfaction one would receive should they bite into the mound composed of delicious delectables.  The smell of the savory goodness compels me to eat it, honestly.

Oh, but what is this?  There are fries, too!  Their crispy, salty goodness cannot be matched by any mortal food.  Not saying there is such a thing as immortal food, though...  I guess it's possible.  I mean, if you don't eat it, it's possible it won't die, but I guess it doesn't mean it ever lived...  Are rocks immortal?  To be immortal, do you need to be birthed?  Or have the ability to die, but don't?  I don't know...  Rocks are the same, regardless.  I'd call them indestructible.

Oh, yeah.  The fries are delicious.  They're so salty and warm and soft (yet crispy, as well) and smell like awesomeness.  There's a Diet Pepsi there, too.  And some pizza and chicken and lots of other foods that I love but am too lazy to comment on.  I personally prefer to philosophize about rocks being immortal, or not.  As well as food.  Also, the soft touch of the bread of the cheeseburger would feel great, too.

I don't like imagery!  Not about food, at least.  It's hard to do!  I could thesaurus up some new words, but I really don't feel like doing that...

Preparin' for the ACT

So...  I have to write a guide to prepare for the ACT?  How am I supposed to do that?  I haven't even taken the ACT yet...  Hell, I'm still confused as to what the PSAE is...  But hey, whatever.  I suppose I've heard enough from enough guidance counselors that I know how to prepare for it.  Sort of.

1. Take the PSAT
2. Work well and study in all classes relating to any ACT material.
3. Make sure to take ACT Prep classes!  Statistics show that students who have prepared for the ACT (by, say, taking it before) get better scores overall than those that have had no preparation.
4. Remember: Don't bring a cell phone or something that will get your stupid pitooty (yeah, that's right) kicked out of the testing.  Even if it's completely innocent, you'll get a zero.  Then what?  Yeah, have fun working at the Dollar General for the rest of your life and being excited when your middle-aged, balding manager named Gerald gives you a promotion to--gasp!--assistant manager!  Why, you'll almost be making $10.00 an hour!  With 30 hours a week!

• The PSAT is a practice ACT test that can help prepare you for the test to come.  Though it is only testing you in math and... reading?  I don't remember.  I think science was there, too.  Either way, it helps, regardless.
• Also, what the hell is the PSAE?

Chanting the Square Deific: Holy Crap

Okay, seriously?  Forget! the Square Deific!  I've had enough of this crap!  Forget your stupid meanings, religious poetry!  Stop being annoying!  All you do is act smug while you preach about how awesome and figurative you are!  I can't relate to a religious poem, and I refuse to!  I don't like your homeric similes and your epithets and assonances and anything having to do with your freaking meaning!

Why can't you be literal?!  Why must you cause so many pretentious people to act like they're deep for being able to find that "a shoe is brown" actually means "the world is going to blow up", based on vague bull crap that, quite frankly, doesn't actually have anything to do with what they're trying to convince us it does?!  I refuse to read the former sentence, as I know if I read it, I'll discover a multitude of grammatical errors that will probably confuse the reader, but I don't really care.

I have this to say: Forget you, Walt Whitman!  I like poetry, some of it's good!  But I hate you!  Poetry as a medium where people can be as pretentiously arrogant in their writing as they want, and everyone will bow down to them.  It takes skill to be a poet, I know that, but holy crap; make a vague, long-winded poem with so many weird words, and you'll be called the next Shakespeare.  I could be considered a god for writing something incredibly odd and eccentric, when it doesn't mean anything.

Stop making me analyze something!  If I find meaning in it, then the meaning will be mine.  Poets shouldn't point to one, singular meaning and force everyone to listen to them that "This is what it means and it will always mean this."  I hate you, high school poetry analyzers.

Sorry, I went overboard.

Groundhog's Day

I'll tell you what's special about Groundhog's Day: Yours truly was born on that day.  Seriously, is that not the best part thing that's ever happened on that day, ever?  Okay, but really, it's just a memorable event on Groundhog's Day.  That same day I was born, Bill Murray had to steal my thunder and demand a movie be released on that day.  That angers me to this day.  Oh, well, though.  Not much I can do about that.  Bill Murray is too funny to be denied, and it was actually a very good movie...

Still!  Either way, I won't bore you with a long-winded rant about how I was born and cried and did baby stuff whatnot; that's just sloppy writing.  What I will do is go on about how Groundhog's Day was never that big of a holiday in the first place.  Really, if you had to be born on any holiday, I'd say Groundhog's Day is the best one to be born on.  Why?  There's really nothing that great about it.  People just acknowledge it, and get on with their day.  It would suck to be born on Christmas or Valentine's Day or Easter or whatever, since so many people acknowledge those days.  You get presents on them and such, and you're basically just screwed over for presents for the whole period.

But that's if you're materialistic!  Luckily for me, I'm not materialistic...

...

But either way, I'm a fan of my birthday, and I'm a fan of Groundhog's Day and February.  I think they're cool months and days and holidays and lunar cycles or something.

Reporting in the Trenches

Reporting in the trenches of a war would be a truly incredible experience.  All the rush and excitement with the adrenaline flowing through your system--it's invigorating!  Until, you know, you possibly die; that's the downside.  There is, however, the point that the reactions of the soldiers in the battle would be incredibly realistic and down-to-earth.  There would be no errors, only human emotion, fear, and anger would flow in their words.  I wouldn't have to reword what happened, I wouldn't have to rely on the experiences of the war-torn individuals that are already as damaged as they could be in their minds.  The entire experience whets my own mind.  I have the first-hand experience that shapes the entirety of my coverage, and it's something that is to strive for.

Now, once you get past those few positives, you realize the negatives.  Oh, yeah, I'll be writing and recording and trying to talk to people who are in the middle of a frenzy.  Their reactions can be ugly and terrifying, and not to mention the fact that there's no protection for me, either.  What do I have?  A helmet and a tape recorder.  The last thing these men need is a man asking them questions while they're fighting for their life.  The ring of a bullet as it ricochets off any spare metal lying around could distract them in the middle of an interview.  While the room for error is small when it comes to recollection, the room for error is great when it comes to the fact that I would have so many distractions in the middle of the interviews.

Though the concept of reporting in the trenches is a good one, and one that makes sense for journalistic ideas, the fact is that there is no way of reporting without any fear; without any emotional consequences.  Now, whether these are great or tiny depends entirely on the individual.