Well, all of you Trillian users will be happy to know that v0.721 is out, and the AIM connection issues are fixed. Now I can talk to Becka again! WOOHOO!

Well, I just trucked it over to UAH and back. I’d written a resolution for SGA that I hadn’t signed; I was supposed to sign it this morning, but like a moron, I’d forgotten to go. So I drove over, and had a bunch of random thoughts:

– It’s hot today. Well, at least to be wearing flannel-lined jeans. They’re comfy, but I didn’t check the weather report. D’oh! [Of course, it was hot last night, too; I had to engage the air conditioner to get cool enough to sleep well.]

– The main reason I want to stay in college, I think, is the ability to drive through a campus full of pretty women and not be looked upon as some old pervert who drives through looking at pretty women. See the sticker on the back of the truck? I go to school here, ladies!

– The SGA Office never changes: it always remains a place that has a gravitational field that attracts you to it and distorts time while you are there.

(more…)

Heh. I’m going to do something exceedingly cruel to all of you.

I’m going to ask you to write about me.

I’m desirous of changing the “School History” page to something that explains IJSM a bit better, but in doing so, I also want to redo my biography. [No worries; I won't toss what's there away. I'm a packrat--got that from Dad.]

So, if you know me, online or off, this is your opportunity to tell a funny story about me, how you first got to know me, or whatever. I’m curious what all you’ll have to say.

I’m here. Really. It’s just the SOS, DD.

Funniest thing to happen to me lately did so last night. Just after twilight, I was standing in front of UAH’s Engineering Building with a load of chairs we’d just off-loaded from my truck. I see my friend J walk out of EB and start towards his car. I nod. He nods. He runs into someone he knows, stops and talks.

While they talk, J looks again … he realizes who it is. It was pretty dark out, and with my beard back, I guess I look a little different in the dark. Finally, he looks over and says, “Geof Morris?” I nodded, and when he was finished, he walked over. We talked a bit, and he noted that one his friends [victor, who posts here under a pseudonym, and I'll protect and respect that] had shown him IJSM. J said, “I’ve been reading it for the past week. It’s funny as hell, especially as I know you.”

Dammit, that’s what’s weird about having people I know read IJSM …

Someone found IJSM via this keyword set: “skater cock”. There’s an entry in the journal that has those words close enough together to show up … ugh.

Who the hell searches for this crap, anyway?

Stolen from da Fosh:

Which drink are you?

Today was our intramural floor hockey team’s first game. In a weak moment, I agreed to play in net so Blake could play out. Contrary to probably most everyone’s pre-game opinion, I didn’t suck ass. Hell, Blake said I had a good game, and honestly, he wouldn’t lie to me.

We held the opposing team scoreless in the first period. We gave up three goals in the second, mostly due to mental mistakes [and one due to me not wanting to floop on the blacktop and mess up Blake's leg pads--he very graciously let me borrow them, and I didn't want to mess them up]. I gave up another in the third [despite what my defense said, it was my fault, dammit--I was out of position, and I knew it], but our guys picked up two to bring it to a 4-2 loss.

Of course, our opponents could put out three lines a period, and we had just enough people to play. Big ups to Blake, Lauren, Jason, and Stenberg for keeping the heat off of me. When we get some reinforcements, I think we’ll have a good little team–provided that I learn from my mistakes and keep on playing.

I’m infected. I need to go find some used leg pads and a used blocker …

I can’t wait for someone to compare this to the Vince Foster suicide.

I’m not surprised by this at all. These people screwed up, they know it, and some people just don’t want to face the music. What they did was bad, yes, but worth killing yourself? -sigh-

Oh my.

I think I’d say something, but then I think I’d have to beg forgiveness from God.

It’s funny: I’ve been looking through the nominees for the 2002 Bloggies, and I had a few thoughts:

1. I find it interesting that Noah Grey was withdrawn in every manner, including GM for logware. Interesting because in my opinion, Noah has no equal.

2. It’s all a guilty pleasure.

3. They withdrew journals from the competition.

I’ve still got Journalizers.com sitting there in Park. The big problem is time: I don’t have it to give to the project, not that and keep up with helping out over on the GreyMatter forums. I find that helping people is more important than my only silly little projects.

But really, I was underwhelmed. I mean, okay, so you reflect society well. Yahoo.

I really do like journals better than Weblogs, and you might find that funny, considering how rarely my journals have entries. But I look at it like this: anyone can look outside of themselves. It’s harder to look inside. The better “Weblogs”, in my mind, aren’t Weblogs at all–they’re journals that distract you from time to time by pointing you to something external.

That’s why I separated the Weblog from the journal … that and the fact that I see how long it’s been since I’ve written a journal entry, and it will shame me into writing one.

Smells? Smells? Ehhhh, but hey.

1. What cologne or perfume do you wear? I almost always don’t wear it. I’d rather just smell like Irish Spring and whatever shampoo I’m using at the time.

2. What cologne or perfume do you like best on the opposite sex? Actually, not too much of anything–personally, I just like a nice fruity shampoo smell on a woman. I love the scent of a woman’s hair; it means her head is resting on my chest.

3. What one smell can you not stomach? Hrm. There are lots of bad smells in the world. Having lived with Hockey Stench[TM] for a while, though, I don’t think smells bother me anymore.

4. What smell do you like that others might consider weird? I’ve gotten used to Hockey Stench[TM] now. It doesn’t really bother me anymore.

5. How do you plan to spend your weekend? Dinner with Kat and Sean on Saturday night, intramural street hockey on Sunday. Yes, I’m the keeper. I’m going to be the other team’s bitch, I fear, until I get used to it.

I get to work, and there’s one of our ubiqitous “Notification of Personnel Action” envelopes on the desk. I know it’s one of those, because it has “G F Morris M/S 52 LIMITED LIMITED” on the front. I opened it, wondering if I’d been fired.

Naw, it’s just a pay raise. I thought my checks were looking big. At this rate, I’d be making $38,000 if I was working full-time. If they’re paying this now, what the hell will they pay me when I’m a full-timer?

Nice way to start my morning!

Man, the old saw about 20,000 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean being a good start isn’t enough.

There is serious talk of a class action lawsuit …

…against fast food companies.

Isn’t it time for Bush to clean house in the Cabinet yet? Let’s zap Ashcroft and Satcher, tout suite!

I have so much I want to write about, and I can’t. It sucks.

Oh well, writer’s block usually goes away. I’ve talked to scads of people on IM today, which has made the day progress quickly. [That, and working on schedules. It's so mindless, it flies.] I’ve talked with Aaron, Amy, Becka, and Heather at times, often all at once. Lots of blinkenlights.

I just got a call from Darin … his wife is sick, and she doesn’t need to be near their baby, so I’m taking his Bible study tonight. Joy joy joy, three hours of teaching kids! This will be GOOD!

Hey, even the Trib has gotten into the Bernie Shifman spam act, and amazingly, the paper go it right: they Neil Schwartzman, and Shifman is portrayed in the only light possible: that of a babbling buffoon.

I expect to hear from Bernie’s lawyers regarding that defamatory statement.

Why don’t we find out, eh?

Thanks to Lynda for pointing me to this. Fits a bored Wednesday morning.

Well, I got a bunch done at work today. No, really.

I’m going to leave in a few minutes, feeling a nice sense of accomplishment. It’s a good feeling, mind you. Compare that to the feeling of accomplishment I got from this past weekend, though, and it really, really pales in comparison.

No wonder I want out of engineering. It’s fun, in its own sick way, but it’s one of those things that, for me, isn’t worth the stress. Put it and sportswriting in the same genre: careers I’ve dabbled in and come away feeling disappointed.

Hey, my boss just walked out. I guess that’s my cue to leave, eh?

HUZZAH!

If you search for “Geof” on Google, I am the first result returned.

That sound you just heard was my head swelling up to 100 times normal size.

I now return you to your normal Web surfing.

Remember Friday, when I was so mad at Len Pasquerelli that I could spit? Well, I was right!

This weekend, you had the Eagles coming in to Chicago to play the Bears. Donovan McNabb is the inexperience guy, but he shines and wins big time over the Bears, whose QB [Jim Miller] was injured and replaced by another veteran guy, Shane “I want to play for the Redskins” Matthews. You also saw the Rams and the Packers get together, and the most experienced of all the QB’s this postseason, Brett Favre, tossed six interceptions.

Over in the AFC, whippersnapper Tom Brady guided the Patriots to a win over the Raiders, who have the aged Rich Gannon under center. Then you’ve got Kordell Stewart leading the Steelers over the Ravens and Elvis Grbac, but both of those guys are “cagey veterans”.

I hate sportswriting.

This weekend was interesting; I’ll write reflections on it soon enough when I’ve had time to recollect everything and make it work. I’ve been babbling at Sean about things for the last hour or so on ICQ, but my creative muse is probably in my still-unpacked luggage.

I came home to the Cleaning Fools, otherwise known as Todd and Blake, having a good time [well, that's a relative term] making our apartment spotless. I feel like such a slacker. [Here comes Todd with some smack, I'm sure.] I’m going to try to get stuff done tonight at home, mainly because it’s a nice guilt trip laid down from my roommates.

My truck enjoys not pulling a trailer. Never pull a trailer with a 4-cylinder engine. Just save yourself the agony, especially if you’re driving in Central Alabama. For the record, I hate Bridlee Mountain: standing on my throttle while in 3rd gear and still losing speed just plain sucked.

But I’m home, reasonably tired, and recharged. All is good.

Okay, this column by Len Pasquarelli on NFL QB’s folding under playoff pressure pisses me off. The one statistic that really matters in here is this: “If history is any indicator, that might be easier said than done, it seems. Dating back to the 1980 season, quarterbacks starting in their first playoff games won just less than 40 percent of the time.”

Everything else in that story is a bunch of chuff. I think it’s hokey sportswriting to take one stat like that and extrapolate the whole story. Yeah, guys like Favre have loads of playoff experience. But, you know, it’s hard to get that experience in the first place. One reason a lot of those first-time guys lose their first game is because they’re playing for teams on the rise, teams that may not belong there at the time. Just as it’s silly to give a win to a starting pitcher or a goalie, it’s stupid to give one to the quarterback.

It would be much, much better to analyze the performance of a player relative to his previous efforts over the season, using something like QB rating or yards-per-pass or something quantifiable. If a guy really struggles on the field, you can show it mathematically–but just not by measures such as this.

I’ll give you this: in the Eagles-Bears game, you’ve got two QB’s without scads of playoff experience. The story at the end of the game will be how the losing QB choked. You won’t hear much about how the winning QB bucked the “trend” that Pasquarelli speaks of.

Little wonder why I hate sportswriting so much that I don’t want to be associated with it.

What the hell is that?

I have to work Monday. My weekend will be relaxing, as I’ll be away from home, but I have to be responsible for kids from church, so is that a weekend? For me, yeah, considering what I usually do with my weekends.

But while classes are out for Monday, I still have to work.

So don’t gloat to me about having Monday off. I don’t want to hear it.

Keep up the streak:

1. What do you have your browser start page set to? It’s set to my Study Abroad page. See, I have too many computers that I use daily, so I have my bookmarks there.

There’s a method to the madness, really.

2. What are your favorite news sites? Well, the only one is FoxNews.com. But I don’t like news over the ‘Net: it’s either whiny, faux pithy, or the AP. I worked in radio news long enough to hate the AP feed.

3. Favorite search engine? Google. ‘Nuff said.

4. When did you first get online? 1995, when I moved up to Columbus and was at MSMS. I’d been on Prodigy back in the late ’80s, but that was over modem and generally a PITA. This was … amazing. My first Web browser was lynx via my tcsh account on MSMS’s main Linux server. I remember that it was a P90, and we thought we were the shiznit to have that …

5. How do you plan to spend your weekend? Absolutely offline! Kinda ironic, but I leave for Camp Sumatanga at 4:00 with the youth group for the weekend. Our chaperone situation is weird: Darin and I are going to ride herd over four guys, but we have 12 girls and only one female counselor [Margaret] going. It promises to be a bit crazy.

My apartment is silent, and the dawn is breaking just enough that the television, tuned to Fox News Channel, isn’t the only light source in the room. I crave to be back in bed; I certainly didn’t sleep worth a happy damn last night. But I don’t get that choice.

Today, I have to attend a day-long symposium for the American Helicopter Society’s local chapter. It’s directly related to our class project for IPT, so It behooves me to go and watch what’s going on there. I figure I’ll learn something, and in the more boring sessions, I have some SGA work to get done. I’ll have pen and paper and Visor, so I can get some good work done.

This thing gets rolling at 8:00 a.m. and runs until 5:30. I’ll get home tonight around 6:00 or so, I guess, and then I have to do a pile of last-minute packing. Tomorrow at 3:00 p.m., I’ll be at church, a luggage trailer tacked onto the trailer ball of my truck, getting ready to load out the kids from church so we can go to Camp Sumatanga for the weekend. So tonight is a night of packing and hopefully better sleep. The weekend will be a time of worship and reflection away from Huntsville, and you might not hear from me again until Monday.

By the way, I know that IJSM will be down for a goodly chunk of Saturday. Just so you know.

When I was in the cafeteria getting lunch this afternoon, I realized:

I’ll spend eight years of my life at UAH before this is over with. I’ve only lived one other place [Beavercreek] that long in my life.

I’ll spend 24 consecutive years in school, in one form or another.

I’ll be 48 before I’ll hit a point in my life where the number of years as a non-student equal the number of years as a student … and that counts the five years of my life I wasn’t in school.

I will also celebrate having lived away from home for two-thirds of my life that year, as I was 16 when I transferred and moved to MSMS.

This ain’t no sprint. It’s a marathon. The only sprint is getting this BSE done and over with.