Let's see if I can work something interesting out of, "Well, I'm working a bit this week, and I'm running on the treadmill a bit, and I've bought some CDs." Somehow I doubt it.

Certainly not something as whimsical and beautiful as this. Ahhh, the good old days. (Start at the part that starts "I just found out...".)

- - - - - - - -

Well, I can talk about Thanksgiving. A lot of things about Thanksgiving kind of suck - lots of driving, and I guess that's it - but there are a lot of good things, of course. This year, my mom made homemade cranberry sauce, and that was awesome. This year, the family (well, me and The Boy and our parents) saw Borat, so that was pretty awesome.

This year, the incredibly still-in-existence tradition of cutting down the Rud family Christmas tree in rural Illinois happened again, on Thanksgiving morning.

There were two highlights to this, one higher than the other:

1) The Boy and I took turns heaving the Christmas tree farm's saw at the ground, and having it stick in the ground. We did this about three times each, so that was worth a bit of entertainment.

2) The better highlight: The Boy and I got to tearing pine cones off of trees and flinging them at each other, and hard. Hiding behind Christmas trees, then a turn-and-fire. We probably winged about five or six, hitting legs and thighs and things like that, and it was pretty fun. Tiny welts, but pretty fun. Then, it got really fun. We were hidden behind adjacent trees. He spun towards the middle of the two, but I spun the other way, allowing for me to move towards my throwing arm. Now, about five feet from him, I leaped, I heaved, and - whack! - in the eye. It started welling up, and I declared victory.

I think it was our first Christmas tree-cutting injury in about a decade, and a pretty good one.

- - - - - - - -

I caught up with a few of my remaining high school friends on Friday night. Pretty uneventful. We don't really stay in contact, and I'm not in that fantasy football league anymore, so there's not much of anything to talk about. The main topic was an upcoming spring wedding.

Things learned about this wedding:
1) It's a Sunday wedding. (I knew that. Kind of sucks. Travel and all.)
2) It's a Sunday daytime wedding. (Sucks. But not as much, I guess, owing to the travel.)
3) It's a Sunday, 11 a.m. wedding. (11 a.m.!?!)

Sunday wedding = no booze, right? Wrong! Sunday wedding, in this case, = no free booze.

As my pal Wej said on Sunday night, "There might be seven or eight people whose weddings I'd go to if I knew it wasn't an open bar."

I guess I can't say the same. Hmmm. Yes, I'll be there.

(I'm not entirely sure, but I think my brother's wedding was beer/wine-open all night long, and liquor-open for a few hours. That's perfectly acceptable. And yes, I understand that it's easy to spend someone else's money. But, let's be honest, you only plan to get married once...shouldn't you spring for a kickin' party? Hell yes you should.)

- - - - - - - - - - -

Another thing that's great about Thanksgiving is that my mom's far too nice and I have absolutely no pride. What this means: Another carful of groceries.

I'd been eating a lot of oatmeal for breakfast over the past three or four weeks. Oatmeal, with some applesauce, and some cinammon, and some raisins, and it's a fantastic start to the day. Well, anyway, I probably won't be eating oatmeal for a few months, because my mom saw fit to send me back to The Ring Fingernail with eight boxes of cereal. Eight! Incredible.

And enough to last me until Christmas...

Also, two gigantic freezer bags of turkey, and two more of ham. About seven pounds of raisins, some "healthy" sweets that I devour by the box, a 24-pack of microwave popcorn, some beer, some Surge (ha!), clementines, a big bin of grapes, some of these fantastic Costco mini-peppers, a dozen apples, some mangoes and, oddly, a new pair of jeans. Sweet.

- - - - - - - - - -

Let's do some thinking "out loud" here (no shift in previous tendencies, of course):

I just saw The Boy, who's one of the greatest kids in the world, over the weekend.
However, I only saw him Thursday and part of Friday (during which I was napping).
This week and next, The Boy is two hours south of me, "working." Actually, from the office, he's about 2 1/2 hours south of me.
I'm about 99 percent sure that he'll be allowed to buy me an expensive dinner.
I'm not sure he'll be able to swing me free gas for the drive down and back.
I'll be seeing him over Christmas, though I'll be in the 'burbs Saturday, Sunday, and Monday of that week.
Work starts at 8.
Is it worth heading down there and swinging a free meal out of him? I think it is. You?

- - - - - - - - -

I should comment that the Northwestern Wildcats played a nice game of basketball last night, holding off the Miami Hurricanes. Craig Moore made seven-of-ten from the three-point arc, his best night as a Cat.

The Cats are 4-2 and, while they've lost to Cornell and needed a last-second tip-in to hold off North freakin' Florida (I was there!), they've also got wins over DePaul and Miami and a close loss to Stanford (who's not particularly good, but who is Stanford, a traditionally good program).

Anyway, I was looking at about a 5-25 season this year, or maybe an 8-22, but now it seems like they'll be right back where they've been in recent years: Hoping, and hoping, and hoping to get over .500 and to get into the NIT.

Considering that, you know, they're not very good basketball players, this is real promising.

Former Titan Jeff Ryan, by the way, is a baller. I'm very excited to watch his development.

- - - - - - - - -

The downside of the weekend was that my visit with Gurs and Bullshot was too brief and too mutually tired. That disappointment was slightly alleviated this evening, when Gurs and I spoke for about 45 minutes about nothing, then spoke about nothing for about 20 minutes about two hours later. It was about awesome. Also, it was primarily about this, which is not a link worth clicking.

- - - - - - - -

I guess that's all I got. Maybe some weekend hijinks.

Happy Thanksgiving friends. I'm thankful for you.

After eight maddeningly-frustrating work hours, six hours in the car, a half-hour stop at Burger King in South Haven, at least four phone calls to and from Ben Harper, and a return to the great express lanes of Chicago, I'm back in the 'burbs. I got to watch the finish to UNC-Gonzaga with my dad (not particularly interesting), I got to see the least inspiring Stupid Pet Tricks ever on Late Night with David Letterman, I got to see Will Arnett (aka GOB from Arrested Development) participate in "In The Year 2000," and I got to hear The Boy's lame excuses on why his pre-Thanksgiving boozing didn't result in a trip to The House. When it comes right down to it, pre-Thanksgiving boozing should always end at The House. Ask Gurs. He's totally there dude.

Downside:
There will be no trivia in the suburbs on Thursday.

Upside:
There will be a new Rud-family tradition. The Boy, my parents, and I (though not the oldest and youngest, sadly) are going to see the fringe-offensive and totally awesome Borat. Anyway, I think the new tradition is "watching a fringe-offensive comedy on Thanksgiving night." I'm pretty excited, honestly. (Though I wouldn't've been excited enough to pay for my own ticket. I'll buy the booze and the flask for my mom - it'll be more fun when she starts yelling "Throw the Jew down the well!" over and over and over. Right? Funnier? Yes.)

We're also loading up the car at 8, heading west to Grandma's, cutting down a Christmas tree, saying hello to the relatives, gorging, sleeping, and driving back. Thanksgiving 'dinner' at 1:30 has its advantages, chief among them getting out of town by 4 so that you can see Borat at 7:20.

- - - - - - - -

So, on Tuesday, I broke the bank at Borders. Five CDs, which is a one-visit record, probably for anything for me. (Well, I've probably bought five cans of tuna or five apples or bananas or boxes of macaroni and cheese, but five is certainly my one-visit CDs record.)

So, I got to Borders, and I did some shopping in the Rock section. Two CDs were already at the register, but, as documented previously, I'm a sucker for my Borders Rewards Program, and I had a 10% off personal shopping day. Huge.

I had developed a list of what I wanted, and everything on the list was there. (Except for the Joanna Newsom record, but I had already known that was sold out. Sucks.) (Also, please continue reading. This one's got a "Slice of Life" point to it. I'm kind of serious. Please.) This surprised me pretty seriously, because I don't think The Thermals have gotten much press, and because Elliott Smith's Figure 8 is five years old. So I didn't expect to see those two, but they were totally there.


The fifth, and least desirable of the three, was Trail of Dead's So Divided, which I knew was in stock. It was slagged by Pitchfork, but allmusic.com gave it a nice review, and I decided, What the Hell? Plus, it was ten bucks, so I figured it couldn't suck that much. (In a way, it's worth it for their cover of Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory, which is awesome in a kind of twisted way.)


So, with Elliott Smith, Trail of Dead, and The Thermals in hand, I headed to the register.

"How are you today?" I was asked.

My response was friendly, dorky, and basically odd: "I've had a fantastic Borders day. At about noon, I called, and somebody set aside a CD for me. And then, like three hours later, I got a call that my special order was in. Awesome."

"Name?"
I gave my name.
And then she struggled and struggled and struggled to find the CDs (Oxford Collapse was the order, Swan Lake was released Tuesday), and she revealed that it was her third day, and then she found them.



So we closed the transaction. I signed my credit card receipt. I elected to use my ten percent Personal Shopping Day discount, but not my $13.49 Holiday discount - the Holiday discount is applied before the ten percent discount, so I'm basically giving away money in that case. And I thought long and hard before turning down the Holiday discount money.

I thanked her. She said, "Rock on."

Even though we had developed a nice rapport, "Rock on" was a bit odd, I though. Yes, I was wearing a t-shirt and a hoodie, and, yes, I've got the chops in full effect.

But "Rock On?"

But then, it hit me. Dig the album covers. They scream "Rock on."

1) The Thermals - Blacked-out eyes Jesus with smoke and piles of garbage in the background
2) Trail of Dead - Ornately-drawn/painted Asian chick staring through a hold in a map or diagram
3) Swan Lake - Gothic mountain scene, plus naked cherubin
4) Oxford Collapse - Party! Dude jumping in a pool and pummeling The Noid

So, I guess "Rock On" was appropriate. But still off-putting.

See. I told you there was a point. (There wasn't, really.)

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I was last in the 'burbs as an unemployed lame-o Labor Day weekend. I got home, returned to my traditional basement lair, and, later in the evening, headed towards the restroom.

Sitting on the countertop, untouched since the first week of September, and placed facedown so as to hold my place on page 3, was Dostoyevski's Notes From The Underground.

I don't remember starting it in the restroom, and I didn't finish it, but, damn, that's good potty reading. Better than Maxim, that's for sure.

- - - - - - - - - -

The Boy spoke with my parents on Tuesday perhaps. He was going to be returning from work sometime Wednesday night. "Is there dinner?" "We'll have some food in the fridge, but not much."

On Tuesday, I didn't ask, I told. "Have some food in the fridge for me, will ya?"

And when I arrived, a list on the table.

"A -

Sorry I missed you!

We've got

- Fajitas
- Beef Barley soup
- Ice Cream
- Pie
- Fruit

Get ready to leave at 8!

Love, Mom"

I guess I'm not just the favorite brother, I'm also the favorite son.

Rock on, indeed.

- - - - - - - -

Have you seen Gilbert Arenas' blog?.

I'll publish some of the best parts:

PlayStation 3, Nintendo Wii
"Man, I couldn’t get it. I stood outside no hours and got nothing. That’s when you sit in your room and try to use your celebrityism. I didn’t get nothing. I knew I should have called and said I was D-Wade. “Um, hello, this is D-Wade … This is LeBron … Can I come over there and get one of them?” Then I would have had one."

Hilarious!

All Star Voting Time
I know ballots are out. I know Puffy had the Vote or Die, you know, with them shirts. You know, I want to have, 'If no one votes for me, I’m not going to do anymore blogs.'

Scandalous!

Go Ahead, Say I'm a Ballhog
"To me, I don’t even pay attention to that anymore. Because, if I was a two, a 2-guard, you know, I’d just be a great scorer. But, since I’m playing the point position, you know, I’m a guy who shoots a lot. It’s easy to pick on me for some reason, but, every team I’ve played with I might average 29-28, but I’ll also have two players that average 20 and 20. So, for some guy who is jacking it up, how come I’m always with two other players that score that much? I’ve never seen anybody else in this league that have two players on their team that are scorers like mine."

Honest, really. Kind of awesome!

Vote or Die! Priceless.

(And, yes, somebody's totally selling the shirts.

I like Gil more now than I did yesterday.

- - - - - - -

Soriano? The Yankee-izing of the Cubs makes me uncomfortable. And Mark DeRosa sucks. But at least we didn't drop nine million a year for Juan Pierre. Or ten million per year for Little Sarge. So I guess it was the least-stupid signing involving a center fielder.

But I'm not sure it's the final straw, or close to it. Better to try than to rely on Felix Pie, probably.

I just got off the phone with a former broadcasting colleague. We spent the 2003 and 2004 seasons in the same league, before he earned a well-deserved promotion to the upper ranks, and I would consider him one of my best friends from the time in "the business."

He's got a lot of pretty exciting things going on. He tells me that he's making almost twice as much as he was making in 2004. He's getting married in about six weeks. (Second marriage for both, so he's far less excited than the first time.) He really, really likes his boss, and thinks that his boss really, really respects his work. And likes him, too.

Our call got cut off, so we tried again, and it got cut off again, so we gave up. He was at the airport. But it got cut off when he was saying to me something along the lines of, "If you told me that I'd be here for the next 15 years, I think I'd be - [nothing] - [static] - [nothing again]." But I could pretty safely infer that he was about to say, or had said, "Satisfied." Or maybe, "Pretty darn happy."

And yet, during the course of the 20 minutes or so we were on the phone, he also spent a solid five minutes talking abot his job search techniques for the offseason - who he's going to contact, how aggressively he'll pursue things, how long his tape's going to be. And, even though he's not really interested in Triple-A opportunities, because "They couldn't offer me as much as I'm making here," he's still going to send to them - "Just to keep my name out there." And, again, he's really satisfied where he is, and his soon-to-be wife makes good money, and he's really looking forward to this season.

And yet, he's still looking for jobs. It's a built-in aspect of the business. And I'm not looking for jobs right now, and that really makes me happy.

Certainly there's indecision or uncertainty where I am but, gosh, at least I'm not going to spend every September-through-March not concerned about where I'm working in April. That's nice to know.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I work for a growing company of 30 or so employees, and one of my co-workers is the full-time HR person. Resume-reading, recruiting, interviewing, hiring. But we're only 30 employees, and there are maybe three or so openings (there's talk of moving to a bigger building but, at this time, we probably don't have much more capacity). So, yeah, she's busy, but she's also got a lot of other fairly interesting responsbilities.

Among them:

1) Small talk
A lot of, "How are things for you?" and "Did you have a good night?" and "Are you going to run tonight?"

2) Lunch
I brought in a head of lettuce on Friday. Several people brought in other things. The company returned our empty bottles and got lots and lots of beef. The HR person made a fiesta lunch. It was fantastic food, and a pretty nice chance for group small talk. (Postscript: My head of lettuce did not get used, though I donated it to the HR person's collection. I don't do lettuce.)

It's reflective of a pretty good commitment to employee happiness here. Or satisfaction. Or "feeling like the company gives a crap." Either way, it's a position that could easily not exist, or could easily be done differently, but it's done in a great way here.

Or maybe I'm wrong, and this is how most people's office existences are. I've just worked for terrible places.

- - - - - - - -

I was doing some math, or rather some addition, or rather some counting, and I came up with some amazing facts.

Since last December, I've had:

Four different 'home' addresses
and
Five different companies cut me paychecks.

It's pretty likely that I'll have a fifth home address come the spring. In this time, I've missed several copies of Spin magazine and maybe a few copies of ESPN magazine. My Newsweek and Sports Illustrated, however, has never lapsed. Focus on the important stuff, you know.

- - - - - - - - - - -

As you probably weren't, I was absolutely intrigued and overly-excited by this week's review of Rock Plaza Central's Are We Not Horses? on Pitchfork. Mostly because whenever anything is purported to sound vaguely like Neutral Milk Hotel, I'm there, dude. This review also drops an Okkervil River Black Sheep Boy comparison, and I'm also there, dude. (For the record, NMH soundalikes have been great - The Decemberists - or just okay - Beirut. People don't throw around NMH comparisons lightly, I don't think.)

It's a self-released effort, and it's not really available anywhere. (Their myspace page lists a record store in Toronto, and that's about it.) So I ordered a copy through their site - it's a PayPal transaction - and I had some troubles. My PayPal-approved credit card has an old address, and I never really got a chance to update it. It was odd.

So I fired an email towards the band's "customer service" email address. I explained my kind-of predicament - "I got a confirmation, but did you actually get the order?" And I sent out the email on Saturday early-evening. I had placed the order after work on Friday.

By Sunday morning, I got a response. Nothing particularly interesting. "Yeah, we got your order. Yeah, it's this address, right? Cool."

And then I looked again. I seemed to kind of recognize the name on the email. It wasn't RCP or Rock Central Plaza or Cust Serv. No, it was lead singer/principal songwriter/[apparently] small-time novelist Chris Eaton.

True, true indies kind of rule, don't they?

- - - - - - - - - - -

I guess I used to write a bit about my work, because my work was pretty interesting. My work is no longer particularly interesting, or particularly comprehensible unless you're "in the business."

But I should tell you that, it turns out, corporate America is really, really inefficient. But you knew that.

I started working with a pretty large nationwide insurance company on Monday. We had an ambitious plan, and we were going to launch my aspect of their program on, we were hoping, Wednesday. I told them this during our call on Monday morning.

At the time, I didn't really understand how freakin' inefficient corporate America really is.

Now, yes, I understand.

As far as I can figure, I'm one of four consultants working on this project. Four consultants, plus at least seven internal company employees. And it's been about the most frustrating time I've ever had at work. Ever. Frustrating beyond all belief.

On both Thursday and Friday, I returned home from work with stress-related headaches. (Probably thanks to the HR person, there's ibuprofen at the office, so the headaches weren't as bad as they could have been.) On Thursday and Friday, I also returned home with the project not actually having been launched.

But there were at least two really nice instances of office-wide "Keep your chin up"s, so that was nice.

Also nice was when my DS (not an R, and he's fantastic) said to me, "Hey, you know when, from time to time, you hear about large companies making massive layoffs?" "Yeah." "Well, the people you're working with, those are the people getting laid off."

I don't know if it was reassuring or what, but it was nice to know that they kind of understand that things are, in their own way, out of my hands.

- - - - - - - -

Wow, that was boring.

- - - - - - - -

Maybe something interesting will happen in the next two days. I'll try to write on Tuesday night before I take off. Wednesday's going to be a long, long post-work drive. I'll stay caffeinated and, perhaps, Taco Bell'd. Mmmm, Taco Bell. Maybe I'll write Wednesday night, instead. More likely, I won't write at all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm totally fired up for split pea soup on Monday night. Totally fired up. Yum.

- - - - - - - - - -

Northwestern's win was quite satisfying on Saturday afternoon. Even if you discount the quality of the recruiting class that's coming in, and the quality of recruits that sat out this season, I think there's a great group coming back.

QB: Bacher. (Kafka)
RB: Sutton. (Roberson, Conteh)
WR: Lane. Peterman. Ward. Brewer. (Yarbrough, Cheatham, TJ Jones.)
TE: Frayne Abernathy, hurt most of the year. Frosh who played Mitchell. (Woodsum.)
OL: Crum. Rees. Matthews. Belding. Taylor. (Diaz. Boyle. Others, I'm sure.)

DL: Wootton. Ngene. Hahn. Gill. Kennedy. Mims. Koehn.
LB: Suck. Suckitude. Well, Kadela. Arrington. Simpson. (They figure to start.) (Dinard. Malleo. Jeske?)
DBs: (Wow) McManis. Battle. McPherson. Smith. Phillips.

New specialists.

I guess that I'm just really happy with the way the Cats finished. They've got seven home games next year, along with a "road" game at Detroit against miserable Eastern Michigan. Minnesota and Indiana are back on the schedule, and Wisconsin and Penn State are off of it. There's a great, great chance for great, great things.

A bowl is expected, and a January bowl is a reasonable hope.

Now's where I get off-the-top-of-my-head ridiculous.

I expect to win against Northeastern (can't we schedule crappy I-AA teams?), Duke, Minnesota, Eastern Michigan, Indiana, and Illinois. That's six.

I expect to lose at Ohio State and at home against Michigan, though even that seems like a possibility.

I see the other four games (home against Nevada, at Michigan State, at Purdue, and home against Iowa) as the difference between a good or great season. Eight wins seems quite reasonable.

Also, the consensus seems to be that Illinois and Northwestern are both programs on the rise. Have these people considered the fact that Illinois' quarterback can't throw?

OK, just wondering.

Happy Sunday.

Not much to report, which is as awful a way to start one of these things as any, I guess.

(For the record, my "U" key is not entirely functional right now, so please assume that I'm missing a "U" if it seems like a word is missing a "U." However, I just added the letter to the word "assume," after I nearly wrote "assme," which is pretty funny, really. However, I imagine that I'll notice when I don't strike the key properly, so I probably shouldn't miss any "U"'s. For the record.)

Another uneventful weekend, which isn't bad, but is getting a bit tiresome. Friday, however, I was flat tired, so it worked out great. Well, it worked out oddly. A catnap turned into 5 1/2 hours of sleep, as I woke up to five inches of snow at midnight. Happy November, friends. What does one do at 12:30, too late to call anybody and too rested to go to sleep? I got lost on YouTube, for the first time in my life, which was kind of cool.

Slate linked me to an R.E.M. performance of "So. Central Rain" from Letterman in 1983, which was pretty cool, and then I continued on to find video of Bob Pollard doing "Baba O'Riley" (the Teenage Wasteland song) with Pearl jam back in June, and then I found some great video of Toby Sprout playing some GbV songs at, I think, The Abbey Pub. Maybe November of 2003, when I went to see Toby opening for GbV on a Sunday night, and returned from Glenview to The 'Port at 5 a.m. on Monday morning. As I recall, totally worth it.

So I guess I've discovered YouTube and, to be honest, I was left kind of empty when I was done. Bt it was neat to see R.E.M.'s video for "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite," even though it kind of sucked. But I hadn't seen it before. All told, I probably spent about 45 minutes on YouTube. Others have probably spent more, it seems, though I'm not convinced it's about to take over the world. Maybe it has already, however. That OK Go Treadmills video rules, after all.

- - - - - - -

Saturday was a fantastic day of college football. The roommate and I "thought about going clubbing but instead we just started drinking" (- Craig Finn), and watched the fantastic Kansas State-Texas game. I consider myself a fan of Ron Prince, the K-State head coach, and I greatly anticipate a bowl matchup of purple Wildcats with sub-40-years-old head coaches at some point in the not-too-distant future. (I think Prince is 36, so I'm targeting next year's Alamo Bowl.)

Northwestern, meanwhile, performed like hell, but at least they moved the ball. At the end of the first quarter, they were on pace to gain 600 yards of offense and lose 84-0. That 84-zip loss would include 12 turnovers, which shows the folly of projecting game results based on the first quarter. But, still, they moved the ball.

My dad had the gall to make fun of me for my preseason prediction. (7-5) I guess he was justified, actually. Still, I remain optimistic, because that's how I am.

- - - - - - -

Hey, look! A major sports website has noticed that the Cats have a hoops team. Please, seriously, follow the link. Sure, they're 0-1, but maybe they'll beat DePaul on Tuesday. If not, my dad'll be there, and he'll call to make fun of them afterwards.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sports Illustrated's cover story last week (though I received it today) is about Ray Lewis. Headline: "The Gospel According to Ray Lewis: God's Linebacker." As an American, I'm a fan of redemption and I'm a fan of second chances and things like that, but I think it's pretty offensive. He's a freakin' accessory to murder, friends, and I think it's a shame that we can just forget that. Or, it's a shame that the only magazine in the country that does legitimate sports reporting on a regular basis can forget that.

I'm also offended by last week's (though I received it on Saturday) My Turn essay in Newsweek. Headline: The Lessons I Didn't Learn in College.

So this recent college grad - a female philosophy major who doesn't identify her school but tells us that "My friends and I are graduates of Wesleyan, Barnard, Stanford, and Yale." - is stuck applying for and accepting a job at "an upscale bowling alley." And she can't fill out her tax forms, and she is offended that she wasn't taught this at college. And apparently, neither did her friends. And she didn't know "how to take advantage of" the job market. She couldn't get an entry-level job staring at a spreadsheet all day, because "in college I had never learned how to use spreadsheet programs." There's a 3.9 GPA, but she can't figure out a Roth IRA. She suggests that an Econ department should offer a personal finance class to account for these lapses. After all, college graduates "haven't learned how to manage our money. We can wing it for only so long before employers start wising p to our incompetence."

Turns out, Yale, Wesleyan, Barnard and Stanford are handing diplomas to idiots at this point. Please, take a moment to read the column, because I'm assuming you'll be as dumbfounded as I was.

Personal finance in the Econ department? How about "Don't spend more money than you have?" (Could you imagine receiving college credit for balancing a checkbook? That's what Math for Trees is for, dudes. Note: I did not take Math for Trees, though I wish I had. How about "It's freakin' Excel. Figure it out." How about "Look in the classifieds and send a resume?" Dumbass.

- - - - - - - - - - -

What's the etiquette on taking magazines checked out from the library into the bathroom? I'm assuming I've violated it.

I checked out an issue of Paste magazine, a music publication that sent me a sample issue a few years ago. It's bi-monthly. The reviews are fantastic - more than 40 words long, and they give you a sense of the record, and I really liked them. But I'll probably just continue to check out four-months-old copies.

Also, I checked out an issue of Wired, because I'm in the industry now (witness my YouTube thoughts above, after all). However, I checked out the issue with Beck on the cover and the question "Is the Album a Dying Art Form?" or something of that nature. (Yes, but not to me, dude.)

- - - - - - - - - - -

Rud family Thanksgiving plans are coming together. It'll be a four-person trip West, it seems. The day's activities aren't particularly important, but the evening's are. The Boy has proposed an Arlington Heights trivia night, though we can't confirm whether or not it'll be an actual option at all. This is definitely worth a call at the end of this week. (To be honest, even if there isn't a trivia night, there's something to be said for seven-dollar pitchers of Old Style. Especially if Dad's buying.)

If trivia is not a possibility, I'm hereby proposing a familial viewing of Borat, because it's pretty good, I hear. Then we'll go slap around some Jews.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Devin Hester's The Bomb. Though it made the play, the "pretend like you're walking towards the sideline" fake was unnecessary, I think. Don't rules stipulate that he had to either take a touchback, or take the ball out of the end zone? I assume that, once he caught it, the play couldn't just end, and the ball couldn't just be spotted at the 42. But, still, fantastic.

The key was the jump shot, which should have drawn a penalty and a fine.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I've been taking a backroad route to work, cutting off about four minutes from the morning and afternoon commute. After work this evening, the icy trip was downright treacherous. I was passed twice, despite generally curvy roads. And I was going between 45 and 60. I think I'll take the higher-traffic (and therefore, salted) main route and deal with the five minute loss of time the rest of the winter. Better than, you know, slipping into a ditch or something.

For the record, yes, it was snowing, and lots, this afternoon. And, yes, the volleyball was good. It'll be better in two weeks, when I've got my boots again.

- - - - - - - -

P.S. I think that my "What NU Friends Would Say If Asked If NU Was a Good School" bit from Thursday is the best writing I've done here in months. I've giggled rereading it, several times, because I've got nothing better to do.

Post volume is severely down here, and I'm not sure there's much I can do about it. That's a shame, in a way.

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It's been a pretty good run on the phone of late, for what it's worth. In the last two weeks, I've gotten my never-frequent-enough doses of Jenny, Tina, and Didi. Amazingly, Didi picked up the phone on Tuesday night despite not recognizing the number. Because, you see, she was tired of talking to the A-Train. So I serve a purpose, I guess.

Jenny and I had a pretty strong conversation going Wednesday night. We covered med school applications, my new job, office volleyball, med school interviews, her dude, illicit activities with illicit individuals (read: sex with strippers), and The Pack, whose debut drops December 19. Badass. (It's also on Jive, which makes it less badass.) (The genre, reported by pitchfork, is "hyphy," which I can neither pronounce nor describe. But it's pretty sweet.)

So that lasted probably 45 or 55 minutes, and then I brought up The Office, and then we talked for 20 more minutes about nothing but. I gotta tell you people, The Office is, without a doubt, the highlight of my week. I find this not at all sad. Such heart, such hilarity, and Jim's coming back to Scranton! And he's bringing that one girl that Jenny and I both think is kind of pretty and both kind of like is coming. But it doesn't look like the dude that says "Hey Tuna" is coming. But, still, it's awesome.

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Let's talk elections, but only briefly.

I'm not quite sure who came up with it, but there was a referendum in the great state of Michigan to open up a November hunting season for mourning doves. I think the fee for a license was two bucks or something. It didn't pass.

I figure that, if it did pass, the people who got that referendum on the ballot would next open a hunting season for young minority children. Because they'd be all out of animals to shoot, I guess.

Hunting's pretty creepy and unattractive to me, though I try to keep that quiet up here. Turns out, it's not just the kooks that blast up Bambi and his (her?) friends. Perfectly nice people do, as well, including a coworker. Her response, when I asked about what she had done over her weekend: "I shot a deer, but never found it." I have no idea what that meant, but she was pretty pissed off about it a few weeks ago.

I didn't really do much in the way of research leading up to the election. I voted the straight party ticket, and then read about the referendums in the booth. Turns out, by voting the straight party ticket, I could not just find the people with funny names for state university board of regents - I had already cast my vote for those elections. Sigh. I'm ill-informed, I guess, but was stunned to find not just doves, but also eminent domain and affirmative action on the ballot. There was also some mandatory education fund referendum that failed. I tend to believe in funding education, but I guess it's already funded somehow.

My quest to vote was a near-miss. I don't know where my registration card is - probably in some file somewhere in the apartment - so I went to The Ring Fingernail website on Sunday night to see what there was to see. Amazingly, it was freakishly efficient. "Type in the name that appears on your registration card," it informed me, and they'd tell me where I vote and when the polls were open. Amazing! So I did, and I had until 8 p.m., and I decided to go after work, of course.

Problem is, the elementary school that was my designated polling place is also under construction for the year. So, like, it was closed. And fenced off. And not, apparently, a polling place. But I took two or three laps in the dark, pulled through some mud in the construction-access lot, and flagged down a neighbor. He directed me seven or eight blocks away and I was in. So it was nice to take part in the Democratic process, I think.

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Election day this year brought back memories of last year's. I had just learned that (relatively) lots and lots of money had been stolen from me by someone far richer than me (though, maybe, actually probably, it was an honest and idiotic mistake). And I was hacked off, some f-bombs at work, perhaps. And I was walking home from lunch and I got a call reminding me to vote. So the polling place was across the street from me and, just to spite the thief, I cast my aldermanic vote for the town kook. I didn't really know much about him, but I knew that he was a sitting alderman and was a certifiable kook. He won by six votes, and the thief was griping about it the next morning. While was griping, I was giggling inside. Awesome.

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Since election day last year, I've had four different home addresses and drawn paychecks from five different employers. Certainly that's not a record, but it's pretty notable. Probably more of both than you, for instance.

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Talking to my roommate last night, and we got to talking about college. I guess we're always trying to relive "glory" years or something, and he's farther away from his than I am.

So he says, "Northwestern's a pretty good school, right?"

And I really didn't have a proper response. I was pretty stunned, because I just assume that people, you know, kind of know things like that. Or, at least, don't have to ask about it.

I responded, level-headedly, "Yeah, pretty good."
And he asked what NU does well, and I said, roughtly, "Well, it's a pretty good journalism school. And engineering's pretty good. And I think the music program's pretty strong. I guess." More accurately, I could have said, "Shit yeah it's cool, dude. It's pretty much good in everything. Like, really good. Like, Harvard-of-the-Midwest good. Like, pshaw, Harvard is the Northwestern-of-the-Northeast, dude." But I didn't.

How NU friends of mine would react to questioning along these lines:

Nemo: "No. It's Northwestern in Chicago. The four-year one."

Gurs: "Mmmmmmmmmmm...yeah, I guess it's pretty good. Yeah, it is."

Jenny: "It's better than this two-bit school I'm at right now, that's for damn sure."

Sumo: [Laughing uncontrollably]

Rico: "It's no Michigan. I love Mario Manningham. I've never even heard of Northwestern. Go Blue. Oh, wait Northwestern. Yeah, their quarterback sucks."

Didi: "I went to fucking Northwestern you fucking third grade bastards. And you know what they taught me there? How to beat the crap out of snotty-nosed third graders. [Pause.] Now, let's turn to page 32."

Harps: "Sure, it's a good school. But it was a lot better when I was there. When I was there, they actually taught us how to operate a camera, you prima donnas."

Flax: "I've never liked sushi much, due to the texture, but I decided I'd give it a go just this once. [Love ya, baby.] I went with a California roll which, to be sure, isn't particularly risky, plus some more exotic items. Eel, also. And while I've never been comfortable with just the concept of sushi, the combination of the ginger and the wasabi and the surprising tartness of the fish made for a surprisingly enjoyable...what? Oh, you're asking about Northwestern? Oh, I suppose it's pretty good."

Bullshot: "I love purple silverware. Let's get some for this weekend."

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I really enjoyed Northwestern's win over Iowa last weekend. I wish I had purple silverware for Saturday's game, when they shock the world against Ohio State. Or at least try to keep it competitive.

I'm not particularly excited for the hoops season, but it will be fun, in a twisted way, for Timmy Doyle to be a go-to guy. He'll probably be the worst go-to guy in Big Ten history, or at least since Winston Blake. Worse, they're only in the great state of Michigan once, on a Wednesday night in early January. It'll be tough to get to that one, sadly. Maybe I'll get a chance to see them in the NCAA Tournament or something.

The prospect of Jeff Ryan getting lots of minutes is exciting, only because Carmody has said exclusively positive things about him. 6-6 former GBS Titans who can play three backcourt positions don't grow on trees. I thought he might be too skinny to contribute this year, but BC thinks he's not. And I'll always agree with BC.

I really hope the Cats beat Cornell on Friday night.

Also exciting? The return of Big Ten Wonk. Highly recommended for your overly-stats-heavy Big Ten hoops analysis. I like it.

It was neat to see Rutgers beat Louisville tonight. Is Jeremy Ito related to The Good Judge? His Rutgers bio doesn't list his parents' names.

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I learned last Tuesday, shortly after posting, that Daylight Savings Time is shifting dates next year. It'll be starting in mid-March (not early-April), and ending in mid-November (not the weekend before Thanksgiving). I'm not quite sure on the reasons, but it means that, scarily, kids will be going to school in the dark for two extra weeks next fall.

I was stunned by this information, and immediately asked my work "Pod Mates" if they knew. They looked at me like I was an idiot. I believe the word "Duh" was uttered.

Tail between legs, I made a point of conducting a survey of the rest of the staff. It wasn't disruptive to the day, of course, as I did it during mutual spare moments.

The results:

Didn't know before I told them: 9
Already knew: 7, though it was six if you really questioned one of them

So I was pretty vindicated. And it was a pretty good diversion.

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Today, Thursday, may have been the toughest day I've had at work. But I got through it, and was able to laugh about it with my supervisior guy afterwards. I couldn't wrap my brain around this report I had to compile, and I was pretty sure that the report itself was ill-designed and, as a result, largely inaccurate. [This is the most boring I've ever gotten.] I brought the supervisor over, we tried to figure things out for 45 minutes and, when I started to snap again, he said, "Close the file, I'll figure it out." So that was frustrating, but, again, we laughed about it afterwards. What was more frustrating was that I took my struggles with me to the volleyball court. As they say in baseball, never take your offensive struggles to the field but, in terms of tedious paperwork (that is, "offense") and break time volleyball ("the field"), I definitely did. Sigh.

Still, things are pretty neat there, too.

Go Cats.