Since it is finals for myself and thousands upon thousand of other students here are some of the results pulled from a Google search of "study break."
The first page of websites were pretty bland this was the most interesting.
This playlist is a little more interesting. I'll give a whirl next week.
Perhaps a video search will net more interesting results.
Hmm . . . view this maybe not. But these two do explain why so many students study in the library. On second thought maybe the library isn't the best place to study.
If you want a online study break that doesn't involve Facebook, MySpace, or AIM then return to these tried and true favorites:
Best of Craigslist - dysfunction and social commentary in one place.
icanhavecheezeburger - mindless and funny.
Adult Swim - smoother video streams and awesome games.
Funny or Die - Judd Apatow's page is worth the visit alone.
Ghosttowns.com - plan your summer break.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
I Love Stockton
To the Moron Who Tried To Jack My Car (Safeway, Pacific at Ben Holt)
Reply to: pers-670705879@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-05-06, 4:40PM PDT
You epitomize everything that is wrong with Stockton. I don't mean the high crime rate, the mortgage crisis, or the 30 degree fluctuation in temperature. Those are a given. No, it is the fact that you, Mr. Moronic Car Thief, failed to steal my car. Another uncompleted task from the populous of this fantastic city I live in.
You did a good job of knocking the locking cylinder into the door. For some reason you did not smash it in far enough to break the locking mechanism. There are plenty of reasons to speculate, but I think it's because you are stupid. If you examined your handiwork then you would have seen you had managed to get the cylinder lodged at least an inch into the door. One more good hit and you could have gotten into the vehicle. A smart thief would have smashed the window if they were stuck. Instead you just fucked up my door and ran off like a little bitch. The irony of your handiwork is that because of the remote access on my key chain I never use the actual key to get in my vehicle.
It would have been better for both of us if you just finished the job and stole my car. You would have a 2005 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo, which with the exception of the door or window would be in reasonably good condition. Fencing for parts it would net you decent profit. With the combination of my finance company writing the adjusted load amount off and my insurance company covering a portion of the theft I would not have been out very much money. This may strike you as odd but the truth is that I really don't like my car. It represents everything I hate about the auto industry, oil companies, and the excesses of Americans to begin with. For the past few months I have been attempting to sell it. This weekend I was going to troll the dealerships to trade it in for a more economic car, probably similar to one you drive. I was not looking forward to this. I would rather deal with the police, the insurance company, and my finance company then have to talk with a fucking car salesman. Stockton disappoints me on so many levels and morons like you are only a reminder of this.
Reply to: pers-670705879@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-05-06, 4:40PM PDT
You epitomize everything that is wrong with Stockton. I don't mean the high crime rate, the mortgage crisis, or the 30 degree fluctuation in temperature. Those are a given. No, it is the fact that you, Mr. Moronic Car Thief, failed to steal my car. Another uncompleted task from the populous of this fantastic city I live in.
You did a good job of knocking the locking cylinder into the door. For some reason you did not smash it in far enough to break the locking mechanism. There are plenty of reasons to speculate, but I think it's because you are stupid. If you examined your handiwork then you would have seen you had managed to get the cylinder lodged at least an inch into the door. One more good hit and you could have gotten into the vehicle. A smart thief would have smashed the window if they were stuck. Instead you just fucked up my door and ran off like a little bitch. The irony of your handiwork is that because of the remote access on my key chain I never use the actual key to get in my vehicle.
It would have been better for both of us if you just finished the job and stole my car. You would have a 2005 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo, which with the exception of the door or window would be in reasonably good condition. Fencing for parts it would net you decent profit. With the combination of my finance company writing the adjusted load amount off and my insurance company covering a portion of the theft I would not have been out very much money. This may strike you as odd but the truth is that I really don't like my car. It represents everything I hate about the auto industry, oil companies, and the excesses of Americans to begin with. For the past few months I have been attempting to sell it. This weekend I was going to troll the dealerships to trade it in for a more economic car, probably similar to one you drive. I was not looking forward to this. I would rather deal with the police, the insurance company, and my finance company then have to talk with a fucking car salesman. Stockton disappoints me on so many levels and morons like you are only a reminder of this.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Maker Faire Visit and Photos
When the process of learning programming languages and advanced mathematics begins to drag my sense of direction into a tailspin it helps to look at those already in the fields. From websites, open source projects, and applications being developed provide an amazing sense of inspiration and relief. Most of the time these are limited to what is posted on the web.
The Maker Faire this past weekend was an opportunity to see first hand what engineers, developers, artists, performers, start-ups, and the DIY community has been working on for the past year. For anyone who has picked up a soldering iron, welding gun, duct tape, or a glue gun it was also an opportunity to revel, play, and show off the projects that have been sitting in spare rooms, studios, garages, and backyards everywhere. Maker Faire was also a chance for uninitiated to try there hand at the same.
Simply put it was a fantastic inspiration to be able to see and chat with folks who are doing their best to improve society, make life easier, or at the very least make it more fun. The pictures I was able to take do not really convey even a fraction of what I saw.
R.JPG)
Check out the full photo stream here.
The Maker Faire this past weekend was an opportunity to see first hand what engineers, developers, artists, performers, start-ups, and the DIY community has been working on for the past year. For anyone who has picked up a soldering iron, welding gun, duct tape, or a glue gun it was also an opportunity to revel, play, and show off the projects that have been sitting in spare rooms, studios, garages, and backyards everywhere. Maker Faire was also a chance for uninitiated to try there hand at the same.
Simply put it was a fantastic inspiration to be able to see and chat with folks who are doing their best to improve society, make life easier, or at the very least make it more fun. The pictures I was able to take do not really convey even a fraction of what I saw.R.JPG)
Check out the full photo stream here.
Friday, May 2, 2008
The Power of "I Don't Know"
Before leaving my previous profession as a telemarketing manager and returning to my prior occupation as a student I was deluged by questions.
"Why were the contacts so low?"
"What are the hours again?"
"When are our checks coming in?"
"Are these seats still available?"
"Who composed this?"
"I need to pen."
"How much does this pay?"
"Do you have enough people this week?"
"Did this person call for me?"
"What else has this performer been in?"
"What happened to sales yesterday?"
"Could we do something about how hot it is in here?"
"Can I talk to you for second [about something that really isn't that important]?"
"I am going to get fired this week?"
"Which series is that performance on?"
"Can we turn the heat on?"
"Someone called me."
And on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Almost everyday for 8-10 hours a day for six years.
By the way, this is not a statement to cause anyone to feel sympathy for me. It was the beginning of a revelation.
Sitting in the backyard, sensing my body cool off after an hour of running, I gazed up past the trees and into the clear blue sky. It was a moment of respite before launching back into more book work. Even though I knew there was much to work on once I went back inside I felt totally at peace.
Then my mind reflected back to a year ago when this moment of escape were limited to grabbing a slice of pizza on 37th Street and 7th Ave between the day and evening shift. This was usually after a constant barrage of questions for employees ("When is this person coming in again?"), the client ("Are we going to hit goal this week?"), the account executive ("How is hiring going?"), patrons ("How did you get me number?"), prospective employees ("Do you guys sell like tickets are something?"), and even the mailman ("What happened to the office across the hall?"). Once I had downed the slice I had enough time to walk around the streets of the Fashion District at rush hour before returning to work. The only environment that I can think of that would be less conducive for clearing your mind then Mid-town Manhattan at 5:00 would be a war zone. Once leaving this break I would start the evening shift off with whatever spin campaign we were supposed to be peddling to the employees that supposedly trusted me and then off to the phones. At that point it was pretty much the same thing as the day - a barrage of questions and requests.
As I reflected on this I came to the realization of how much of my job was doing everything possible to avoid the response "I don't know." The higher up the questions came the less you wanted or could afford to give that answer. Even at the bottom of the rungs you still wanted to answer all of their questions as accurately as possible. It was my job from bottom to top to make sure everyone knew everything they needed to know as quickly as possible. I became a master at picking up campaigns cold and being able to have a thorough knowledge of all aspects of it within a couple of weeks.
Fast forward to the present where I find myself in a completely opposite situation. The vast majority of the time the phrase "I don't know" is a golden opportunity. The fantastic thing about this is the instructor gets to teach and I get to learn. Quite the opposite of the situation that would have arisen if I said those three little works at work too often. There is an undeniable sense of relief in saying that I don't know what the hell I am doing. This sense of puzzlement is also reflected in most of my classmates. At work this would have scared the hell out of me, but here it is a relief. This is essentially what I go through everyday at school. It is also relatively true even after I have supposedly learned the information that was presented to me. As I got up and went back inside I reflected on how wonderful it was to be able to state in unequivalcable terms that I do not know what the hell I am doing.
During winter break, after an eight hour journey from Stockton to New York, the friend I was staying with commented on how refreshed I looked. It probably has much to do with not having to answer more questions on a daily basis than the White House Press Secretary.
"Why were the contacts so low?"
"What are the hours again?"
"When are our checks coming in?"
"Are these seats still available?"
"Who composed this?"
"I need to pen."
"How much does this pay?"
"Do you have enough people this week?"
"Did this person call for me?"
"What else has this performer been in?"
"What happened to sales yesterday?"
"Could we do something about how hot it is in here?"
"Can I talk to you for second [about something that really isn't that important]?"
"I am going to get fired this week?"
"Which series is that performance on?"
"Can we turn the heat on?"
"Someone called me."
And on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Almost everyday for 8-10 hours a day for six years.
By the way, this is not a statement to cause anyone to feel sympathy for me. It was the beginning of a revelation.
Sitting in the backyard, sensing my body cool off after an hour of running, I gazed up past the trees and into the clear blue sky. It was a moment of respite before launching back into more book work. Even though I knew there was much to work on once I went back inside I felt totally at peace.
Then my mind reflected back to a year ago when this moment of escape were limited to grabbing a slice of pizza on 37th Street and 7th Ave between the day and evening shift. This was usually after a constant barrage of questions for employees ("When is this person coming in again?"), the client ("Are we going to hit goal this week?"), the account executive ("How is hiring going?"), patrons ("How did you get me number?"), prospective employees ("Do you guys sell like tickets are something?"), and even the mailman ("What happened to the office across the hall?"). Once I had downed the slice I had enough time to walk around the streets of the Fashion District at rush hour before returning to work. The only environment that I can think of that would be less conducive for clearing your mind then Mid-town Manhattan at 5:00 would be a war zone. Once leaving this break I would start the evening shift off with whatever spin campaign we were supposed to be peddling to the employees that supposedly trusted me and then off to the phones. At that point it was pretty much the same thing as the day - a barrage of questions and requests.
As I reflected on this I came to the realization of how much of my job was doing everything possible to avoid the response "I don't know." The higher up the questions came the less you wanted or could afford to give that answer. Even at the bottom of the rungs you still wanted to answer all of their questions as accurately as possible. It was my job from bottom to top to make sure everyone knew everything they needed to know as quickly as possible. I became a master at picking up campaigns cold and being able to have a thorough knowledge of all aspects of it within a couple of weeks.
Fast forward to the present where I find myself in a completely opposite situation. The vast majority of the time the phrase "I don't know" is a golden opportunity. The fantastic thing about this is the instructor gets to teach and I get to learn. Quite the opposite of the situation that would have arisen if I said those three little works at work too often. There is an undeniable sense of relief in saying that I don't know what the hell I am doing. This sense of puzzlement is also reflected in most of my classmates. At work this would have scared the hell out of me, but here it is a relief. This is essentially what I go through everyday at school. It is also relatively true even after I have supposedly learned the information that was presented to me. As I got up and went back inside I reflected on how wonderful it was to be able to state in unequivalcable terms that I do not know what the hell I am doing.
During winter break, after an eight hour journey from Stockton to New York, the friend I was staying with commented on how refreshed I looked. It probably has much to do with not having to answer more questions on a daily basis than the White House Press Secretary.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Love-Meet.com from GTA IV
More from the Grand Theft Auto IV website which should tide me over until I get a chance to play it. Love-Meet.com, an obvious parody of every on-line dating service out there, has a rather entertaining Personality Quiz.
Here is what come up the first time I went through it:
Tweaking my answers just a little bit the second time around gave me this:
Answering the same set of questions in round one as a woman gave this result:
Choosing the weirdest selections on every questions delivered this:
Since I was on a role:
Good times! Take the quiz and see where you end up.
Here is what come up the first time I went through it:
Tweaking my answers just a little bit the second time around gave me this:
Answering the same set of questions in round one as a woman gave this result:
Choosing the weirdest selections on every questions delivered this:
Since I was on a role:
Good times! Take the quiz and see where you end up.
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