The Party Song

My iBook has only 14% of its available battery reserve left, and you don't even get to tap into the final 5%, because at that point it'll turn off on its own. Stupid intuitive machine.

It has been warm enough these days to wear shorts and play frisbee, two activities that bring me much satisfaction. I even got someone to pull out their baseball glove and play catch with me. It's not Arizona -- it's not warm enough, it doesn't smell the same, I can't stop at Filiberto's with Andy on the way home, but it's a start...

I need to start reading in a few moments about recruitment and selection in the federal workforce, though clearly I'm looking for ways to prolong the delay. Spring break is getting too near now, so that my will to work diligently wanes with each climb of the thermometer. Pensacola, by the way, shall be the destination, and I have few things to be more excited about than the beach. The beach in the early morning, when the fog has no rival, and the late afternoon/early evening, when the sand is still warm but no so much that you can't justify putting on a hooded sweatshirt. And the smell of a grill, too. Yes, that is what I am looking forward to.

On Vices

A few thoughts stemming from last night's Deerhoof concert:

I think it warrants research as to whether indie rock attracts male individuals of below-average height. I'm sure I could rather quickly find out what they average male height is, but I don't want to do the work. I am fairly confident that I fall in the lower half of the percentiles, and I'm also fairly confident that I was probably in the upper half last night. What gives?

Second, and more pressingly, can we once and for all declare that smoking and alcohol are so passé? Look, I understand that we all have vices (or perhaps devices, meant only to mediate the unsettling effects of cognitive dissonance, angst, and the perils of living in a three-dimensional world(quick, name that lyric reference!)). But the faux-rebellion predicated on one's ability to smoke tobacco and drink 24 oz. cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon is, at this point in the modern era, awfully trite. Perhaps this explains my affection for the straight edge/hardcore scene -- there, the mediators of existential crises are simply loud guitars and louder yelling (yes, yes, and the philosophical commitment to modest living, the plight of the common man, and, recently, an avoidance of animal products and/or sweatshop labor). All I'm saying is, just how punk are you if you need to be awash in substances to feel free enough to shake your fist?

For the record, I'm wearing a pair of Nikes (not sweatshop free in the slightest) and plan on eating some delicious leftover grilled chicken later on this evening. Just so we're straight...

Three Words

Why not a few good words? (Definitions courtesy of dictionary.com; inspiration courtesy of old letters, old English teachers, and an old story by Austen; examples courtesy of yours truly).

1. Brazen (brey-zuh n): Shameless or impudent; Marked by flagrant or insolent audacity.
• "A brazen remark," said he, "considering that you are but a novice."
  
2. Solipsistic (sol-ip-sis-tik): Extreme preoccupation with and indulgence of one's feelings, desires, etc.; egoistic self-absorption.
• Mired in solipsism, the boy offered compliments only unto himself.
  
3. Fastidious (fa-stid-ee-uh s): Excessively particular, critical, or demanding; hard to please; excessively scrupulous or sensitive, especially in matters of taste or propriety.
• Appalled at the unbridled enthusiasm with which the family greeted each other, the newcomer stood by in fastidious disapproval.
  

Mr. Walker's Fine Establishment

Actually, it's known more simply as Walker's Coffee & Pub...and the "Coffee" portion of the name is optional, though that is what I'm currently partaking in. What, it's 2:00 in the afternoon -- no whiskey for me. I mention Walker's because the walls, in addition to being that perfectly worn red color that brick ought to be, are graced by a few choice pieces of art. That in turn reminded me that at one of the local art museums sketches by, among others, Picasso and Dalí are on display. Remembering that, and reading Miranda's delightful description of the virtues of the stage, have me longing to be somewhere bubbling with cultural opportunities.


Where is NYC? Where is Paris? They are not here, that much is to be sure, no matter how diligently Walker's attempts to change the tenor around these parts. Perhaps instead of an internship this summer, I should wander the globe, taking in as much culture as my body will allow. If I abandon my recent emphasis on fruits and vegetables in favor of that stalwart of the college experience, ramen noodles, (a stalwart, by the way, that I've thus far avoided in my five years of post-secondary education) maybe I can save up enough money to live out the dream.

Steadier Footing

So this guy sung,
"And this is the chance I never got to make a move.
But we just talk about the people we've met in the last 5 years.
And will we remember them in ten more?"

I'm just saying that sometimes these posts feel the same way.

Like when I tell you about the weather. Or about the latest story from nights spent on the town.

But then, do you really want to hear about the things that have interested me most lately? Do want a few paragraphs about the subtle yet important differences between situational moderator variables and intervening (a.k.a. mediating) variables, particularly as they affect measurements of effective leader behavior? And what of the methodological shortcomings of social science research? Relying on questionnaire and other types of survey research, we run the risk of encountering a number of errors, each of which could destroy the validity of the research design. What if my interviewees, in attempting to determine their leader's most effective behaviors, instead just attribute to him those behaviors they assume are most important? While that certainly gives me a measure of social perceptions of effective leadership behavior, it doesn't at all get to an empirical measure of effective behavior. And that's just the beginning, you see. Because if we try to rely on other forms of research, particularly the experimental variety, we run into a host of reliability issues, most of which stem from the completely articificial testing environment of experimental designs. In the real world, there are so many variables at play, and each of them interact with the others in varying yet important ways. But we cannot seem to find ways to accurately assess and describe those relationships. DRAT!

And so you see, my friends, if I were to be honest, I'd have lost your attention long ago. So instead, we talk about the weather.

Cold and windy today, after a few days of vacation in the mid-60s.

Country Rock

So quoth the orange and white checkered wristband guaranteeing entrance into the similarly-named bar. I was without a camera, and this is probably for the better -- don't want to stand out from the locals more so than I already do. On the other hand, that leaves me without any visual evidence of the glory and wonder that is Country Rock.

Any stereotypes you have about a "townie" Southern bar, feel free to indulge them, because they're probably spot on. A giant, hollowed out NASCAR hung from the ceiling. Mechanical bull? Check. Line dancing? Double check. Generously-figured women thumbing their noses at societal norms by dressing in increasingly form-fitting, revealing attire? Unfortunately, thrice check. All these things, for better or worse, were seared into my memory last night at Country Rock.

(and secretly, between you and me, there was some damn impressive line dancing going on. i wanted to mock, i did, but how can you when there's so much amazing belt-buckle grabbin' and boot-stompin' going on?)

Country Rock is now my favorite Athens bar.

Country Rock is also like 15 minutes outside of Athens, ensuring the appropriate mix of townies and adventurous young folk (not unlike my little cohort).

God bless Country Rock.

Freezes, Thaws, and other Winter Metaphors

Today is a "snow day". Except replace "snow" with "ice" and "day" with "morning". Those pieces of rationality apparently pushed aside, the university decided to cancel classes. Now I'm not complaining or anything -- I haven't had so enjoyable a morning of reading in a long time -- I'm just saying that it's a pretty weak excuse for a snow day. Up north, there's snow aplenty, and I'm actually a little envious. Nevertheless, it's 2:00 and probably only 34 degrees out, so at least the winter jacket and scarf are getting a good workout.

What we experienced here in Athens was more of a freezing rain. See below.


Now forget what you just saw, because that's not how it is here. Again, the promise of our snow day has exceeded reality. I'm not complaining or anything...

In the meanwhile, I've gotten a wonderful amount of reading done, played some video games, and taken a delightful walk downtown. See, no complaints. I also won't be back in class until Monday, and I haven't had class since Tuesday (Wednesdays are days off, lucky for me). Thus, no school for nearly a week, which is a fortuitous turn of events, as I've got a goodly amount of work coming up, and Sunday will be lost to the Super Bowl.

That is te end of my snow day report. If anything changes (and it won't), I'll be sure to update.