Alex's Musings

Girlfriend Potential Test

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-23T13:06:41-06:00

In recent months, I’ve had droves of attractive ladies ask me, “Alex, how can I become your girlfriend?” Due to my extreme popularity, I haven’t had time to give any of them a proper answer up until now. But now I have the answer. The following is the Girlfriend Potential Test. You must receive an adequate score on this exam in order to be considered Girlfriend Potential. “Adequate” is decided by myself and, of course, my sister (who has protective custody over my relationship status), Jenna. This exam has been adapted from several tests I’ve seen scattered around the internet, but it is mostly the creation of myself and Jenna.

Overview and Instructions
The following exam will be administered to all females that are interested in the pursuit of a relationship with one Alex Laird of Cedarville University in Ohio. Only those exams completed by a female in under the alloted fifty-minute time limit will be reviewed. You will be graded on grammar, spelling, creativity, the ability to construct a proper sentence, and lastly your overall appearance. Please submit all answers via email in a text document as an attachment to both alexdlaird@gmail.com and jenna.woestman@gmail.com. Be sure to mark the email as Urgent and put “ - Girlfriend Potential Test” in the subject line, replacing with your actual name. Include a decent, personal photograph with a minimum resolution of 800x600. Please ensure that your name, number, state of residence, and most recent IQ score are displayed prominently in the upper right-hand corner of the paper. When submitting the completed exam, each question should be copied and pasted with your answer promptly following it.

Please keep in mind that this is not a job application. However, your performance on this exam will very accurately portray your cleverness and most likely your ability to succeed when put in a real work environment. I reserve the right to submit your exam results to any future employer as either a recommendation of your abilities or in jest to show them what you aren’t capable of.

You have fifty minutes to complete this test. Your time starts now.

Section One: Multiple Choice (Answer All, 20 Points)
1.) Finish this lyric. “Apple bottom jeans ...”
A.) With the fur. The whole club was looking at her.
B.) Make me look, like, real hot.
C.) OMG I love that song!
D.) Heaven preserve us ... I’m not finishing that lyric. Do you realize Flo Rida’s name is just Florida with a space dropped in randomly?

2.) I’m going to college:
A.) To get my M-R-S degree.
B.) So I can get a good education and make a difference in the world someday.
C.) Because my parents are paying for it, so why not? I don’t actually plan on applying myself at all.
D.) Because I figured it was better than working at McDonald’s.
E.) ... Wait. I’m not going to college, actually.

3.) We’ve talked every night for several hours (not including the Dinner and a movie we had on Saturday, or the Monday night that I came over and we baked cookies), with conversation time averaging about an hour per night. On a Thursday night, when on a deadline, I express a need to get off the phone so I can finish some work and get to bed at a reasonable hour. You:
A.) Take this as a sign that I’m abandoning you, begin to point out all my flaws and that I clearly have commitment issues, and then cry.
B.) Say goodbye, but manage to do it with such menace and venom that I stay on the phone for another three silent hours, broken only occasionally by fits of gentle weeping and muttered curses.
C.) Say goodbye, but then immediately embark on another conversation entirely, discussing it as thoroughly as is scientifically, legally, or religiously possible so I can’t get a word in edge-wise.
D.) Express your feelings of devotion in three words or less, then quickly say goodbye after confirming plans for tomorrow night are still on.

4.) We’re having a fight. You:
A.) Use my past stupidities against me, even though they are completely irrelevant, I’ve apologized for them, and you said you had forgiven me several months prior.
B.) Give me space when the discussion gets too heated for rational thought, and redress your complaints in a calm manner when we’ve both had a chance to cool down.
C.) Flip me The Bird.
D.) Realize the fight is about nothing, so you begin creating fictional problems and making wild accusations about my obsession with material goods and having a wandering eye.
E.) Both c and d.

5.) I’m going out on a Friday night to hang with a bunch of my buddies. You:
A.) Immediately assume there will be female buddies there as well, that I’m in love with one of them, and become irrationally jealous. You never verbalize this too me, so I’m only lost as you stomp around my apartment and give me the cold shoulder.
B.) See this as a great opportunity to get some things done without me around.
C.) See this as a sign that you are probably just a casual thing that I could toss aside at any given moment, despite the fact that we’ve hung out the last seven evenings and I’ve still somehow managed to write you letters every other day this week.
D.) Ask if you can come along.
E.) Invite yourself and a bunch of your girlfriends along without asking my permission.
F.) Have a girls night. Hanging out with boys all the time isn’t good for anyone.
G.) Both b and f.

6.) In order to attract a male, you would:
A.) Act like a complete ditz. Guys love ditzy girls!
B.) Act superior and arrogant. Guys love it when they’re inferior to a woman.
C.) Act like yourself. Guys love it when a girl is genuine and they don’t have to figure out who she really is after they’ve already fallen for whatever show she put on when they first met.
D.) Wear the least amount of fabric as is legally possible. Guys love seductive girls.

7.) You would date a guy because:
A.) He was extremely attractive. (Hint: This is the wrong answer. God made girls to be attractive, not guys.)
B.) He’s smart!
C.) He’ll probably be rich someday, or he is rich currently.
D.) He was manipulative and somehow managed to convince you that you were in love with him ... So I guess you’re supposed to date?
E.) You had compatible personalities, were able to resolve misunderstandings without the obligatory fist fights, and you found yourself quite smitten with who he was.

8.) You buy clothes based on:
A.) Seventeen Magazine’s top picks.
B.) What’s cute and comfortable and doesn’t look like the sewing machine ran out of thread when it reached your midriff.
C.) Whatever’s newest at Abercrombie.
D.) Nothing. My mom makes them for me.

9.) You’re going clothes shopping, and the only option you have is to take me with you. You:
A.) Ignore the fact that I’m completely and hopelessly bored out of my mind, asking me repeatedly with every outfit you try on, “Does this make me look fat?”
B.) Come up with a creative game plan to help me enjoy shopping with you, keeping in mind that my retail-oriented attention span is about twelve minutes and that I am prone to wandering after flashing lights and shiny things.
C.) Attempt to keep the shopping experience as short as possible, getting only what you absolutely need and trying things on only the minimum number of times (in my opinion, not yours).
D.) Both b and c.
E.) Spontaneously add stores to the list every time we’re about to approach the “almost done” mark. These stores were not discussed prior to leaving the apartment.

10.) Assuming things without asking me to confirm them, and/or making wild and negative accusations off of single statements I make (probably sarcastic statements, at that), and/or putting words in my mouth, and/or twisting words I have previously said to make them sound derogatory are:
A.) All necessary to a healthy relationship and help spur constructive criticism and beneficial arguments.
B.) Expected and rational things to do, especially when you feel cornered or as if you may be losing an argument.
C.) May be good or bad, depending on your current mood, how your week has been going, and whether I asked you about your current mood and how your week has been going.
D.) All completely inappropriate and should never be done under any circumstances. Rational thought is required in every conversation, whether an argument or just casual.

Section Two: True or False (Answer All, 15 Points)
Answer true or false for the following fifteen questions. If you answer false, correct the statement to make it true.

1.) Wearing a skirt overtop a pair of pants is an attractive and fashionable choice.
2.) Learning to interpret body language and communication cues is important.
3.) Arguments are vital to any good relationship.
4.) Discussions are vital to any good relationship.
5.) Arguments and discussions are the same thing.
6.) Your cat is very intuitive--probably as intuitive, if not more so, than myself.
7.) Demetri Martin is the best comedian of all time.
8.) A proper relationship requires effort from both sides.
9.) Rationale and reason are the same thing.
10.) You don’t actually need that dress, cute hat, or additional pair of shoes.
11.) Any argument can always be resolved with the proper amount of yelling if the words are vulgar or incoherent.
12.) Properly constructed sentences are important when attempting to persuade someone in a discussion.
13.) Bono is probably the most important political figure of our generation.
14.) Throwing furniture is a legitimate alternative to constructive conversation.
15.) Your conversation with me, in person, is more important than any and all of the texting conversations within your mobile device.

Section Three: Essay (Answer One, 15 Points)
Select one of the following questions and answer it as thoroughly as time will allow. Please try to be as descriptive and complete as possible, include at least two persuading arguments to support your case. Arguments should be backed up with cited evidence, not anecdotal perspective.

1.) If I were a crime-fighting vigilante by night, what efforts would you make to support my case about the rising threat of evil in this city?
2.) Give evidence, citing sources and giving references whenever possible, that you are a laid back person with a good sense of humor, including the ability to appreciate sarcasm.
3.) What is the likelihood that, if called upon to serve your country, you would be able to broker world peace using your charm and good looks alone?

Sitting in Traffic

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-24T03:02:20-06:00

Yes, I am writing a blog post at 3am. What are you going to do about it? Apparently nothing, and apparently I can do nothing about it either. Well, I guess I could just not write it, but that wouldn’t help the fact that I’m still stuck awake at this hour. Since I just finished reading Fight Club again, and I’ve already exhausted much of my other reading for this trip, it seems the only thing I really have left to do is write.

This has been the longest trip to Indiana I’ve ever participated in. In fact, in the time I’ve been in the car, I could have now almost gone to and back from my grandparent’s house (in optimal weather conditions, of course). That’s right, I’m approaching coming up on being in the car for twelve hours. For a six hour trip.

We left knowing there were adverse weather conditions, but honestly they weren’t that bad. A little ice here, a little show there. No problem. We just took our time. There were times we went twenty-five, there were times we went sixty-five. I’m not sure we ever fully went the speed limit, but we went fast enough at least.

All those cars with their lights flashing. Why are your Hazard Lights flashing? It seems every three or four cars there would be another that had their Hazards turned on. Attention Everyone: Your hazard lights are to alert the traffic around you that, yes, you are indeed doing something out of the norm. When everyone around is going twenty-five due to slushy and unpleasant road conditions, your Hazards are only a nuisance. On top of that, you have to keep in mind people can’t tell when your break lights are on or if you’re switching lanes when you leave your Hazard lights on.

Highway 32 goes between Lebanon and Crawfordsville, Indiana, essentially connecting I-72 to I-465. I-465 is the bypass that goes around Indianapolis. My grandparent’s live in Carmel, on the North side. The interstate East of Champagne, Illinois was fine; slushy, but not too icy. Highway 32, on the other hand, was not fine. It was a perfect glaze of ice. We were on it for only a few minutes before retreating back to the interstate to take the long way to I-465 (continuing on I-72 toward downtown Indianapolis).

Apparently the long was a bad choice as well. That’s where we’re stuck right now, and have been for well over an hour and a half. I think it was around midnight, actually, that traffic just stopped moving. Now we’ve had snow plows, Highway Patrol vehicles, and the like all pass us on the shoulder, but the traffic remains at a stand still. Maybe the road ahead is super icy, so they’ve closed it. Maybe there was some atrocious accident that they, for one reason or another, just can’t get cleaned up. I’m not really sure. Nobody’s told us, that’s for sure, and the issue with it being such an ungodly hour of the morning is that nobody on the radio is reporting anything about anything.

So we’re stuck. Without knowledge. Without food. Without water. Oh, and I am very thirsty, I might add. You know, being stuck like this isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that I have to go to the bathroom!

In Which I am no Longer Single ... ?

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-21T23:40:00-06:00

We watched Get Smart. It was a great movie. When I saw the previews for it, I thought it was going to be hit or miss. Apparently it was hit, because I really liked it. I drove home afterwards, and on the way I texted Kylee to invite her.

I had College Group at my church the next night. You know, that group of awkward college students at your home church that are only really around during breaks? Well, we have a few cool college students at my church, so I figured it wouldn’t be the worst thing I’d ever attended. Still, I figured it couldn’t hurt to invite Kylee, since I couldn’t recall a time when she wasn’t fun to hang out with, and we had agreed to hang out a lot over break. Aside from this Get Smart session, we had failed on the “a lot” part, so I figured inviting her along might make up for it.

So she came. To the Regier’s house we went, to be followed by ice skating, and that was to be followed by a White Elephant Gift Exchange. Of course, I knew most of the people there, but I hadn’t really kept up with a lot of them, so I could have been married for all they knew. There was one complete stranger there, however, who we shall refer to as Steve.

We arrived. I brought both Gally and Kylee, but Gally actually attends my church, so apparently bringing her wasn’t really that unusual. I hadn’t previously considered the ramifications of bringing a girl from my college who didn’t attend my church to a College Group, I just thought she would have fun. It didn’t help that one of the other college students had brought their Attraction of the Month (or so).

After much food consumption and awkward small talk, it became apparent to Kylee and me that everyone was under the false assumption that we were a couple. I retreated to the kitchen to get a drink and smirk with my face in a cupboard. Unfortunately, we were already sufficiently past the inital introductions where I would have gone, This is girlfriend, Kylee, or, This is my friend, Kylee. Apparently all I said was, This is Kylee. Too vague. But I couldn’t correct myself at this point (or at least clarify) without making things even more awkward, so I just decided to roll with it.

We went to the skating rink and skated in monotonous circles until my ankles complained. I remarked to Kylee that they all thought we were dating and she got a kick out of it. I suppose we were playing the part perfectly, as we were the only two of our group left out skating around the rink. Steve only sat out to rest his ankles for a few minutes braving the ice again to question us. Somehow he got the false impression that Kylee was from Iowa, I wasn’t, and that the reason I was in Iowa was to officially meet her family. He never came out and said this, just, “So, is this your first time in Iowa?” No, I’ve lived North of Cedar Rapids my entire life, thanks. He thought I was from Ohio. An understandable error, I suppose, since I went to school there. It was only a slightly flawed idea considering he was at my home church, which I had mentioned.

There are certain unspoken rules about meeting a couple for the first time. By not clarifying what we were, exactly, when introducing Kylee, I pretty much put tension on all of these. After all, nobody’s just going to straight up ask you if you’re dating while the both of you are standing right there. Okay, some people would, but most people wouldn’t. We could tell they were all studying us to death, waiting for one of us to do something clearly defining so they could make a confident choice as to whether we were dating or not. Unfortunately for them, we were both onto them and making things increasingly difficult intentionally. It was considerably more fun to watch them stumble over ambiguous questions to attempt to get us to explain how we were connected.

We finally left the ice arena. Steve couldn’t come back to the house for the White Elephant Exchange, so he was hopping the bus from the rink. He must have thought my six-foot, red-headed, blue-eyed, not-girlfriend was insecure or something, because as he left and successfully got her off to the side, he told her, “It’s okay that you’re as tall as you are. I think it’s great. Anyway, Alex doesn’t seem to mind at all.” Well, if you weren’t as tall as you are, you wouldn’t be Kylee, so you’re right, I definitely don’t mind that you’re six-foot. Kristi’s good at being short and giving powerful hugs, you’re good at being tall and volleyball. You also give pretty powerful hugs, but I’m pretty sure you would agree that Kristi must lift daily and eat her Wheaties.

After reassuring Kylee that her height wasn’t an issue, Steve got me to the edge of the sidewalk, away from the rest of the pack, and told me it was great to meet me, that he hoped I enjoyed my time in Iowa (didn’t we already go over this ... Twice?), that he hoped college would go well for me, and that he hoped things with Kylee and me went well. “Thanks, I know they will.” After all, I’m not expecting to lose her friendship anytime soon.

The scariest part is that this is the second time in one week that Kylee and I were paired up. The other time Kylee wasn’t even in the room. In fact, the guy that said we were going to get married (yes, he straight up said that) had never even met Kylee, and he had met me only minutes prior to saying this. Needless to say, it’s been an unusual week. Good thing Kylee has a good sense of humor and puts up with such things.

Test Your Code

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-13T21:09:49-06:00

There are reasons software goes through rigorous testing (on multiple levels) before it is released to the public.

My parents have this fancy DVD player that skips over crap they don’t like. It’s called ClearPlay. You can select what type of stuff you want it to cut out, and you can connect to the internet once a month or so to update the library of movies it knows. For graphic or violent scenes, it knows the time codes for the scenes in each movie which the user wants to skip over.

It’s an interesting concept, but ClearPlay has a few glitches in their programming. After all, entertaining software that intentionally skips over scenes of a DVD that is meant to play through continuously (and skip such scenes in a seamless manner without the user’s knowledge) can present significant problems if. For instance, poor programming could result in one DVD being confused for another DVD which would require skipping during a certain sequence. Or poor programming could call a skip method for no apparent reason. Who knows how these things work ... Either way, the premise of this machine seems to break one of the cardinal rules of programming, and that is that if you’re going to do so something significant (i.e. skip an entire scene in a movie) you’d better tell the user.

We were watching Prince Caspian, a movie that probably doesn’t need any skipping. Naturally, we watched the movie with the ClearPlay Filter off. Apparently it didn’t get the memo ...

One moment we’re at the scene where Caspian first enters the woods (at night) and meets the dwarf, the next moment we’re seeing the completion of the bridge by the Tel Marines (a scene near the end of the movie). The time code on the DVD player was still showing that we were only nine minutes into the movie. We rewound and fast forwarded several times, skipped around the chapters, but it continued with this glitch. We decided to give the DVD player one more chance. It did it again a few minutes later. We then realized we had never even seen the scene where the children actually enter Narnia. Something was terribly wrong.

Even Ernie was confused, and he can’t even understand movie plots.

A normal DVD player could probably never have this issue. Sure, if the disc were scratched, it could jump to a later portion of the movie, but the time code would jump with it. Introducing such “functionality” as skipping scenes intentionally without alerting the user and without advancing the time code can present serious issues if you don’t test your code rigorously, while we just now experienced as we watched Prince Caspian.

After restarting the DVD player, ejecting the disc, and putting it back in, we skipped to the second chapter and were greeted with the scene in which the children enter Narnia. It worked!

Must be a Windows-based DVD player ...

Distraction

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-10T15:11:33-06:00

It’s Finals Week. Chuck’s is open continuously from 6am to 6pm. I can’t stand eating before 6pm, so I’ve actually been eating in The Hive for Dinner, and I’m not sure who actually gets up at 6am during Finals Week when the first finals are never before 8am. Anyway, six is just far too early to be social or eat.

So I’ve been in The Hive all day, working hard. People have been drifting in and out, as have I. I had to leave for work at one, but other then that I’ve been here since I woke up. Kylee’s been here, Ryan, Dave, Gabe, Shannon, Kristi, Justin ... Maybe a few other people. I don’t know, my brain is sort of fried right now.

Anyway, everyone just left me except Kristi, who is sitting in the chair next to me, asleep. It’s making me very jealous. It’s not just that she’s asleep and I’m writing a paper. It’s more so that she’s so small that she is able to curl up into a ball small enough to fit in the chair ...

Really, should that even be allowed? Look at that! It gets worse. As she’s continued to sleep (and she’s quite out), she’s curled tighter and tighter and wiggled further into the chair. It’s making me jealous.

The other day, just for fun, I tried being like Kristi and curling up into a ball on a chair to fall asleep. It was about the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever done, and I’m not exactly a big person. She makes it look so easy ...

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a better picture that didn’t have the coat wrapped around her before she woke up. Sorry about that, guys. Also, when Ryan came back from getting the oil changed in his car, he didn’t realize Kristi was in the chair, he just thought it was her coat and that she had left. A few minutes later, when she did one of her “curl tighter” things, he freaked out.

Okay, that’s probably about all the distraction I have time to muster up right now. I’ll try to be more consistant in posting once this hectic week blows over!

In closing, I wish I were as small, compact, and travel size as Kristi is. Seriously, it just seems like you could pick her up and carry her around with you, or put her in your pocket. Put her in a suitcase. Pretty much anywhere, she’d probably fit. I’d better stop before I get in too much more trouble ... At this point I’m running on way too little sleep, too much stress, and not enough rationale.

Hypocritical RAs

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-08T08:58:16-06:00

I have no problem with RAs. I have no problem with police officers. I really have no problem with authority. Here’s what I do have a problem with: hypocrisy. Especially when it comes from authority.

This morning I had my last class in Old Testament Literature. During finals, we’re allowed to wear jeans to class instead of our usual Class Dress, which is basically anything but jeans. So, this week being finals week, I decided to wear jeans this morning. Sure, finals don’t technically start until tomorrow, but this week is finals week, so that was my defense. And considering 50% of the campus has the same mentality as I on this matter, I wasn’t too concerned about getting demerits for it, and I didn’t. But I did overhear a conversation entailing the demerits of another that made me want to stand up and shout!

I was sitting in my comfy rolly chair when it happened. Two girls were sitting in the row in front of me, one of which was wearing blue jeans, when a tall fellow, who was wearing black jeans, strolled up and sat in the chair on the end of the row.

Black Jeans Guy: Hey, you’re wearing jeans. I should write you up.
Blue Jeans Girl: It’s finals ...
Black Jeans Guy: Finals don’t start until tomorrow.
Blue Jeans Girl: Look around you. Everyone is wearing jeans today.
Random Girl: You’re wearing jeans!
Black Jeans Guy: No, these are black jeans. You’re wearing blue jeans.
Blue Jeans Girl: Your point?
Black Jeans Guy: The rule book says no blue jeans. Black jeans are fine. It’s okay though. You’re my friend, and it’s the last week, so I won’t write you up.
Random Girl: How considerate of you.

This conversation bothered me on so many levels. First of all, Black Jeans Guy was clearly going to let Blue Jeans Girl off the hook merely because they were friends. I was crossing my fingers the entire class, hoping he would turn around and try to give me demerits after class so I could give him the what’s-up. He didn’t.

Friend exceptions bug me, just like any amount of inconsistency bugs me, but the fact that he was actually trying to give demerits to someone else for wearing jeans while he was wearing jeans just made me want to jump into the conversation even more. I refrained.

I wanted to jump up and say, “Oh my goodness, do you not even understand the rules you’re supposed to be enforcing? The rule book says nothing about jeans whatsoever, no matter the color! Dr. Brown made a joke about it last year in chapel, but the rule book is silent on the matter.”

If he had talked to me after class, here’s what I would have said: “I’ll make you a deal. We walk to the SSC right now and get a Student Handbook. If the handbook says anything about jeans, specifically blue jeans, you can right me up for five demerits, if you want.” A dress code violation is only worth two demerits. “However, if black jeans are just as unacceptable as blue jeans, you and I are marching to your RDs office and you’re giving yourself demerits while I get none.”

Just for fun, let’s have a look at the Student Handbook, shall we? Yes, I actually have memorized parts of the Handbook just for moments such as these. It really would have made my day if he had talked to me ...

Men
Dress/sport shirt, sweaters/sweatshirts, slacks, and footwear (no long/short-sleeved T-shirts or shorts)
Women
Skirts, dresses, blouses, sweaters/sweatshirts, slacks, and footwear (no long/short-sleeved T-shirts, shorts, or leggings)

Since their seems to be a bit of confusion, let’s define “slacks” according to Webster.

slacks: trousers especially for casual wear
trouser: pant
pant: an outer garment covering each leg separately and usually extending from the waist to the ankle

As you may have noticed, as I certainly did, slacks mentions nothing of denim or color. In fact, if we took this definition completely literally, jeans may even be allowed! However, they aren’t.

It’s not so much that I care about the fact that jeans may or may not be allowed according to the Handbook. It’s that the RA used the “fact” that “the rule book says no blue jeans.” No, it doesn’t. I’ve heard RAs misquote the rule book numerous times, and it bothers me that those in authority that are supposed to be enforcing the rules on us don’t even have a proper understanding of the rules they are to be enforcing. This is why I memorize parts of the rule book. Now I just wish someone would call me out when I actually have a good defense like today ...

Sixteen Random Facts About Myself

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-05T15:36:28-06:00

Alright, fine. Jessica, you win.

I have this policy against doing such things as these, but I decided I would oblige and respond anyway. But don't think I'm happy about this. Below are sixteen random facts about myself and then sixteen people that I think are awesome. That's the gist of this.

I wish there had been seventeen, I would have then made one ironic one which only said, “I am very long-winded.” Unfortunately, there are only sixteen, and I didn’t want to part with any of them.

One – Friends and family are what I cherish most on Earth. I love spending time with the people that are closest to me, talking and listening. I have one brother, two sisters, and two parents. My siblings are and always will be my very best friends.

Two – I'm majoring in Computer Science, and I'm just nerdy enough to work on side programming projects as well as the required projects from Cedarville. I also love web and graphic design.

Three – I love music. I love movies. I love literature. I consider all of these things art, and I love art. I love the meaning and the interpreting that can be drawn from good art, especially music, and I feel that good art is the most influential thing that can be used to sway a persons opinions and emotions. Just look at the Bible. It's magnificent literature is art. On that note, I'd much rather watch a profound, powerful movie than a movie that mindlessly entertains with cliche humor any day.

Four – I love a good debate, and I love constructive and creative writing. One of my biggest pet peeves is poor writing, especially when someone is trying to use their writing to prove a point. I refuse to listen to your point, no matter how good it may be, if you don't take the time to construct a proper sentence and capitalize your words.

Five – I love pizza. I could probably survive just on pizza (and die early from it) and be completely content. Also, I love soda. I drink it way too much.

Six – I have a tattoo with Greek writing on my wrist. It reads Doulos Xristou Ihsou, which translates to Bondslave of Christ Jesus; what I am to be with my lifestyle.

Seven – I played the violin for five and a half years. This one isn't nearly long enough, so I'm also going to throw in this one for free: I love small children, but unfortunately they usually don't love me. Babies cry when I hold them and as they get older they just seem to be scared of me. Junior and Senior High students, on the other hand, do tend to love me, and someday I want to work with the Youth Group of some church to affect the lives of the next generations as much as those cool twenty-somethings effected mine when I was in high school.

Eight – I really can't stand the cold, but I also hate layers. This is an extremely difficult contradiction when you live in Iowa and go to school in Ohio. Someday I'd love to live somewhere warm near the coast, such as Florida or California. The trouble is I can't stand the liberal whackos that live in California, and I don't think I could ever raise children in that environment.

Nine – On that note, I also can't stand the stark legalism of close-minded, judgmental, right-wing politics either. I choose not to advertise my political views, especially after this last election, as they generally appear to be contradictory to the stereotypical Christian standard. They aren't necessarily, but some people have a difficult time disjointing themselves from their own beliefs long enough to observe the perspective of mine. I guess what you could say is that I despise stereotypes in almost any shape or form.

Ten – I love complete strangers, and I love getting to know people. I'm generally not ashamed of making a fool of myself, so I'll gladly strike up a conversation with anybody.

Eleven – I love wit, sarcasm, and most of the genres humor takes on. Sometimes people don't get along with me right away (or at all) because they take me to seriously, but my motto is, "Only take seriously what life requires." By that I mean that there are certainly times when life requires you to be serious, and to joke around under such circumstances is completely inappropriate. Most of the rest of the situations life will throw at you are probably neutral, and I choose to take them as light heartedly as possible.

Twelve – I love photography and videography, both viewing and capturing. If you ever find a video that the editing and content are simply amazing, or a photograph that is breathtaking, feel free to share it with me.

Thirteen – I love a good adventure (I stole that right from you, Jenna). Whether it's risky, crazy, or just plain insane, I'll probably still be willing to do it. You only live life once, and I intend to take Ecclesiastes as seriously as possible while attempting to maintain a model of the character of Jesus Christ. I have a crazy sister named Jenna who has a nearly identical personality to my own, and we get along very well in this manner. Ashley and Andrew, my other two siblings, also have very similar personalities to each other. Ironically, Jenna's and my peronsalities are frequently in contrast to Ashley and Andrew's personalities, but we still get along great!

Fourteen – I've never been clinically diagnosed with ADD or ADHD, but every amateur test I've ever taken (and perhaps the inconsistent thought patterns I have) evidences that I probably have one of the two, which is probably why each "one" of these random facts is turning out to be more than one. I'm also highly obsessive compulsive, and I like my personal matters, physical and emotional, to be as organized as possible.

Fifteen – I love playing games if it means I get to spend time with you, but I'm really quite bad at them. Luckily, I'm not very competitive either, so I don't mind losing.

Sixteen – I'm the only person I know of that has ever successfully managed to be myself. All other attempts at being have not only failed, but have failed miserably, usually leaving the attempter as an emotional wreck. Please do not ever try to be me. Try to be like me, if you must, but don't try to actually be me. It can only end in disaster.

So there you have it. I hope you enjoyed getting to know me by reading a post instead of conversing with me in person :).

Jessica - Because you practically forced me to write this thing and would have sent me on a guilt trip if I hadn’t *glare*.
Krista - Because you and I share a common love for photography, camp, and Ben. And you’re one of my favorite people.
Ben - Because I love you and you’re not only the best boss anyone could ever ask for, you’re the best friend!
Tyson - Because you remind me of chicken, and I love chicken. It tastes good. Hey, no hard feelings about Ben being the best boss, right?
Joe - Because I miss our meaningful and deep discussions that we had so frequently this summer about.
Kylee - Because you’ve lived twenty minutes away from me for my entire life and I’m sad that I didn’t even meet you until last year, especially since you make such a fantabulous friend!
Emilie - Because you’re the most amazing Freshman on campus, and you also live just twenty minutes away from me. Whether you get to play a lot or not, I still think you’re the best at volleyball.
Kelsey - Because if it weren’t for you, I probably never would have heard about or come to the lovely Cedarville University. Thank you!
Kristi - Because you’re short and feisty, a great friend, and you give the best hugs.
Ryan - Because you have that adorable baby face and I always have a good time with you.
Dave - Because you’re the only person I could think of that would take the latter part of the seventh one completely out of context.
Griffin - Because you’re not in the book, and I just met you this year, so I thought you might be interested in the deepest, darkest secrets of my life.
Gabe - Because I just saw you walk by the Bible building and you’re such an attractive man.
Jenna - Because you’re the only family member that I figured would actually post a response to this yourself.
Evan - Because you’re coming here next year. You do realize you don’t have a choice, right?
Megan - Because you can’t eat Gluten and you let us use your house to cook anyway.

Hotel California

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-03T22:17:25-06:00

Joe Kmetz and I were on our way to Krista’s house over Turkey Break and I had designated Joe as the DJ for the trip. At some point during the drive we ended up listening to “Hotel California,” probably the best song the Eagles ever wrote and performed. This spawned a discussion as to the meaning of the song. Unfortunately, neither of us knew for sure, but I promised Joe I would investigate the song as soon as I had time.

Though you can play “Hotel California” on Guitar Hero by yourself an sound surprisingly similar to the original track, there’s nothing realistic about that. On the Hell Freezes Over album, the Eagles used eight guitars to perform this song. In the original studio mix, only five were used. Still, this should give you some measure of the caliber of this song. It is an amazing piece for guitar, and I never tire of listening to it.

Musical melodies aside, the lyrics of the song span quite a bit of controversies. The interpretations of this song range from the drug use, cannibalism, Hotel California being another name for the Camarillo State Hospital (a psychiatric hospital), and even references to devil worship and the Church of Satan.

I’m going to have to go ahead and debunk all the most popular rumors, as none of them are even remotely close to being true (except possibly the drug use one, though indirectly). Let’s lay out the most popular rumors and look at why they aren’t true. For your convenience, I have typed up the proper lyrics to the song here and you can listen to the song here.

Background on the Eagles
The Eagles are one of the most successful American rock bands of the 1970s. The Eagles were founded in the early 70s in Los Angeles, California, by Glenn Frey (singer, guitarist, songwriter), Don Henley (singer, guitarist, drummer, songwriter), Randy Meisner (singer, bassist, songwriter), and Bernie Leadon (singer, guitarist). It’s also worth mentioning the former member Don Felder (singer, guitarist, songwriter), as he helped write “Hotel California” and performed part of the guitar solo. The band has five number-one singles and six number-one albums so far. Their fifth album was Hotel California.

“Hotel California” is a song by the Eagles on the rock album of the same name, Hotel California, released in 1976. The theme of the whole album is essentially that of Manifest Destiny and the American Dream and the rise and falls in-thereof. The album isn’t exactly a rock opera, but it does seem to follow a common theme: it starts with “Hotel California” and comes to a culmination with “The Last Resort,” a song that narrates the demise of society as the conclusive warning to the theme of the album.

After its release, Hotel California received a Grammy for Record of the Year in 1978, the song has been considered by Rolling Stone to be the 49th greatest song of all time, and Guitar World Magazine ranked the guitar solo as the 8th greatest of all time. “Hotel California” reached 20th on the Billboard Top 100 in 1977.

It’s a Real Hotel
It turns out there’s a real hotel in California! A few of them, actually. Unfortunately, there is no hotel in California that goes under the name of Hotel California. There is, however, a hotel in Todos Santos, Mexico, just across the border, that goes by the name of Hotel California. The hotel also went under the name of The Hotel Mission (“I heard the Mission bell”). The name of the hotel changed several times after the popularity of the song grew so as to attract tourists. The problem is the Eagles never actually stayed there, and that location is not what the song is referring to.

It’s an Insane Asylum
“Next thing I remember / I was running for the door / I had to find the passage back / To the place I was before / “Relax,” said the night man / “We are programmed to receive / You can check out any time you like / But you can never leave.”

People who believe this rumor may simply be getting confused by the fact that the Eagles’s record company for the album before Hotel California was Asylum Records. The song isn’t actually about an insane asylum; there is no asylum anywhere in California or even the entire United States by the name of Hotel California.

Some still insist that the Hotel California is a nickname for the Camarillo State Hospital in Camarillo, California. But since the Eagles said in an interview in 1995 that it wasn’t in reference to a particular location, and since it wouldn’t really make much sense to take the pictures for the album artwork at the Beverly Hills Hotel if the song were really about the Camarillo State Hospital, the song probably isn’t in reference to an insane asylum. Though the imagery in the song does seem to describe states of insanity at times.

It’s a Hospital
Still, people insist that the Hotel California must be a real building somewhere, so they conjecture that perhaps it is a hospital somewhere. The rumor further claims that the song is actually about cancer.

“My head grew heavy and my site grew dim.” It could be a reference to the pains of the cancer that is evidently killing the body. “There she stood in the doorway” is alleged to be a reference to a nurse, and “And she showed me the way / There were voices down the corridor” is the nurse leading him down the hallways of the hospital, other cancer patients calling out to the narrator as he walks by. “They stab it with their Steely knives / But they just can’t kill the beast” could be a reference to repeated attempts to kill the cancer.

The song could be a metaphor for cancer, if you chose to interpret that way, but that wasn’t the intention when it was written.

It’s About Steely Dan
The line “They stab it with their Steely knives / But they just can’t kill the beast” is a reference to Steely Dan, an American rock band that had a healthy competition with the Eagles around the time Hotel California came out.

The Eagles were apparently impressed by the fact that Steely Dan didn’t require any rhyme or reason to the meaning in the lyrics of their song. The Eagles decided it would be pretty sweet to mention Steely Dan in their song, even though the rest of the song has absolutely nothing to do with them. Steely Dan had previously mention the Eagles in their song Everything You Did with the line “Turn up the Eagles the neighbors are listening” in 1976.

It’s About Cannibalism
Apparently the references to a secluded hotel with corridors and hallways that were an endless maze that entrapped anyone who entered reminded too many people of H. H. Holmes and the Murder Castle. I guess he didn’t eat his guests, but his story probably set people up for paranoia.

One theory that got spread around via chain mail muses that the reason “You can check out anytime you like / But you can never leave” is because the only way to truly leave is to be stabbed by those “Steely knives!” Apparently the hotel in the distance enticed you only to serve you up for dinner the following day. There’s really not much evidence of this in the song, and the band members have denied it.

It’s About the Church of Satan
Probably the most well known (and most misunderstood) meaning for the song says that it is a reference to devil worship and the Church of Satan. Such lines as “I was thinking to myself / This could be Heaven or this could be Hell,” “We haven’t had that spirit here / Since nineteen sixty-nine,” “... they just can’t kill the beast,” and “You can check out anytime you like / But you can never leave” apparently solidify this claim. Additionally, the album artwork has a bit of an eerie feel, and people claim that the photographs were taken at the same place where the Satanic Bible was written. “The Beast” referred to in the song is alleged to be Satan.

Anton LeVay finished the Satanic Bible in 1969, three years after founding his church. Supposedly ever since the bible was finished the Holy Spirit hasn’t been present at the Satanic Church (as if he was before?) and that’s what the line in the song is referencing. This claim falls short when you recognize that the line directly before this clarifies a reference to the spirit of wine, not the Holy Spirit. Additionally, once you join the occult you are apparently unable to get out. Considering the previous claims fall short, I’m going to entertain the thought that “the beast” must be a metaphorical character referring to something other than Satan.

The artwork for the album was actually shot at the Beverly Hills Hotel in Beverly Hills. The Eagles say that the reason for the shadowy figures is due to poor lighting and a poor camera. The ghostly figure in the window who many claim is supposed to be either Satan himself or Anton LaVey is actually a publicity guy from Asylum Records. Any physical similarities to LaVey or the Devil himself are purely coincidental.

Further claims state that the Hotel California is a reference to a hotel on California St. in San Francisco which the Church of Satan purchased and converted into their headquarters. The building in question was called The Black House and was actually an old Victorian mansion, not a hotel. It was the headquarters for the Church of Satan used by Anton LaVey in 1966 until his death in 1997. The Satanic Church lost custody of the house after LaVey’s death, and it was torn down in 2001.

It is also rumored that the Eagles were members of the Church of Satan and that they were disciples of LeVay. While a very unreliable source claims that the Waco Tribune-Herald interview Larry Salter, the Eagle’s manager, and he admitted that the Eagle’s were involved with the Church of Satan, the interview was apparently back in 1982 and the original can’t be found ...

Then there’s that whole bit about playing the song backward to hear a satanic message. That’s a bit of a stretch. Especially considering sites like that try to say the same thing about Metallica, Megadeath, and Kiss songs and, let’s be honest, you don’t need to play those songs backward to hear a Satanic message. Anyway, if you listen to the entire song backward yourself, you’ll find that it’s quite bogus.

Some have said that the Church of Satan is registered in California under the name “Hotel California,” but there is absolutely no evidence to support this claim.

It’s about Sex and Drugs
“Warm smell of Colitas / Rising up through the air”
“I saw a shimmering light”
“There she stood in the doorway / I heard the mission bell / I was thinking to myself / This could be Heaven or this could be Hell. / Then she lit up a candle / And she showed me the way”
“She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys / That she calls friends / How they dance in the courtyard / Sweet summer sweat / Some dance to remember / Some dance to forget”
“And still the voices are calling from far away / Wake you up in the middle of the night”
“Mirrors on the ceiling / Pink champagne on ice / And she said, ‘We are all just prisoners here / Of our own device’”
“You can check out anytime you like / But you can never leave”

This theory has the most overwhelming amount of evidence straight out of the song, and it’s also closest to the true meaning.

Probably the most explicit reference in the song is that of Colitas, a Spanish term meaning “little tails,” which could be a reference to the Cannabis plant (marijuana). The rest of the imagery in the song is a very strong implication that the narrator may not be entirely sane (or lucid) while he’s telling us his tale. A shimmering light and a vision of a hotel? Voices echoing down the hallways? Mirrors on the ceiling (seeing many things from many angles, which would happen when you hallucinate)?

It’s usually said that the song is warning against the use of drugs, given it’s generally negative view towards the subject, especially considering the narrators regret that he can’t seem to get out of the lifestyle he has become trapped in.

So What’s it Really About?
And now we come to the true meaning of this song, which is only slightly disappointing after reading all the wild previous possibilities!

Well, Henley and Frey claim that Colitas is a desert flower that smells good. Well, it may very well be a desert flower, but it’s still most likely slang for Cannabis. In their defense, I did read somewhere that a Mexican translated the words “little bud” to “Colitas” for them, neglecting to mention the marijuana reference, so they may not have completely understood what they were saying.

That being said, they explained in an interview in 1995 that the song is about the dangers of hedonism and greed, specifically as it applies to the American Dream and their own achieving fame and fortune in the worlds eyes. They wanted to warn not only California of this, but the entire nation. Unfortunately, due to a poor choice in the title of both the song and the album, it’s most commonly only associated with the Californian mindset.

It’s not a reference to any type of building, it’s not about cannibalism, and it’s not about the Church of Satan. The Steely Dan reference was, in fact, true. The song was the Eagles’ look back at their own lives, realizing how they had become caught up in the famous lifestyle (“Her mind is Tiffany-twisted / She got a Mercedes-Benz”), a lifestyle which has trapped them and isn’t turning out to be everything they had wanted (“We are all just prisoners here / Of our own device,” “You can check out anytime you like / But you can never leave”).

It makes sense if you consider that the song is the first on the album that addresses the issues of drugs, temptation, fame, relationships, and the American Dream.

There you have it! That’s the true meaning of the song Hotel California. I’m glad we had this discussion. I was sick of hearing about the Church of Satan.

Domo and The Kid's Grand Escapades, Pt. 1

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-12-02T16:00:00-06:00

Jenna got me Domo for Christmas (yes, we did Christmas early this year at my house), so I decided to take him around with me to my classes and such.

Since Jenna has also granted me permission to guest post on her blog on the second of every month (in correlation with the fact that my birthday is on the second of November, I guess), and since today is the second of the month, I decided to photograph Domo’s and my adventures and blog about them for my post. You can view the first two chapters of our many escapades HERE :).

I like hot. I hate cold.

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-26T07:54:43-06:00

I like hot.

I hate cold.

I woke up the other morning extremely drousy. Shuffling my way to the shower (and hitting a few walls in the process due to my not-even-half-opened eyes), I performed the morning ritual, as us Americans know it, of getting clean.

I remember standing in the shower in my delusional state thinking, Didn't Stephen tell me, once upon a time, that it's good for you to take a cold shower? You know, even if he had, I'm not sure why I would have thought it would be a good idea. But, like I said, I wasn't thinking straight at the time. It being, like, 6:00am, I wasn't actually thinking at all.

Something about waking up quicker. Something about jumpstarting all the systems in your body. Something about giving your immune system a Good Game pat for yesterday and a motivational speech for the upcoming game. Something about blood circulation and capillaries. Something about contracting muscles to eliminate toxins.

You know, I'll tell you, it may very well do all of those things, taking a cold shower. So after rinsing my hair, I reached for the handle and turned it to cold. All the way. This was not one of my better ideas in my lifetime.

After my body went into complete shock, it was nearly impossible to function. How was I supposed to get clean if I couldn't even move due to the extreme cold? I tried to tough it out for a while, but myself and I finally decided that this idea sucked, so we resorted to finishing the shower off warm. Bad news: once Brock showers turn cold, they don't turn back.

I was forced to suffer the remainder of the shower under bitterly cold water. Sure, maybe my immune system battled off a few diseases that day, and I certainly woke up faster than I ever have in my life. And, yes, the walk back to my room felt supremely wonderful instead of the usual chilly. But other then that, I don't think it was worth it.

I like hot.

I hate cold.

Dear Verizon Wireless

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-25T15:41:54-06:00

Dear Verizon Wireless:

My name is Alex Laird. I'm a 20 year old male student who attends Cedarville University, and I'm one of your loyal customers. I would greatly appreciate it if you would quit attempting to turn my own mother against me. Your conniving schemes to convince her that I am a lying teenager are quite childish and bothersome. I understand that you're the Wireless Giant whose lucrative business thrives more on loyal customers than on happy customers, but your sneaky methods are getting on my nerves.

I'm on your Family Share Plan. My Dad is the account head, and my mother, sister, and I are additional participants on the plan. For an additional $10 a month we can add additional lines to our Share Plan. For an additional $15 a month, I can add 1,500 text/picture/video messages to my line, plus unlimited messaging within The Network. I've done both of these things, so on top of my Dad's plan, you're making an extra $25 off of me every month.

Apparently this isn't enough for you, since the last three months you've charged my portion of the bill over $75.

It all started three months ago. Several applications were added to my phone against my will. You couldn't make it any easier to spend money on subscription services with your phone if you tried. All a customer has to do is browse through the applications list, select one, click "Accept" to the terms and presumable charge on his or her bill, and the application is downloaded. Some applications cost up to $20 a month! Applications, I might add, that do less for you and are less intuitive than any Freeware application I've ever downloaded on my computer. Yet still you manage to gouge the prices, and the reason you have success off of them is probably because people like me will inadvertently get them added to their phone.

After receiving a bill for well over $80 that month, I realized what had happened to my phone. I went onto your website and blocked all forms of applications, web services, or anything that could be added from my phone that would be charged automatically to my bill. I then went on my phone and canceled every subscription application that was on there. I then removed all the applications. I just told my mom to charge it to me, since it was my fault.

The next month my portion of the bill was hefty again, and again I received a call from my mom to figure out what the problem was. Wanting to give you the benefit of the doubt, I established that, since the applications were charged monthly, I must have been charged again before I canceled the subscription. Additionally, I had gone over my allotted 500 text/picture/video messages, so I upped my plan to 1,500 so that wouldn't happen again. Again, I didn't complain to you, and I told my mom to charge me for the mistake.

Then came last month. Again, I was charged over $75. Again, my mom called me. This time, I was beyond unhappy. I went onto your website and reviewed the bill myself. For my portion of the bill, I was charged over $40 for mysterious data charges. On your website, you have a section that will list every single phone call, every single text message, and every single data charge for the entire month. I looked at this section. For every single data transfer on my phone, the charge was $0.0. Yet somehow this added up to $43.68. Perhaps this is some new form of Calculus that I have not yet taken in my college career, but I was not aware adding zero and zero multiple times ever resulted in anything other than zero.

On top of the data charges, I had been charged for another overage of text messages. I had used significantly less than 1,500, but significantly more than 500.

Just these charges alone would probably be enough to make anyone upset, but I haven't even mentioned the most frustrating part yet.

We finally decided to call and complain, since the charges on our bill last month were without sufficient explanation. My mom called. After getting off the phone with your representative, my mom called me. The text messages were an easy fix; you had forgotten to apply my new texting plan. That was $35 back. What about the remaining $43.68?

"Well, here's what I found out," she said. "He said that the reason we were charged is because of applications that are on your phone. Mobile Email. Wikipedia. WeatherBug, etc. Do these sound familiar?"
I was frustrated beyond belief. "Mom, these are the applications I removed two months ago. They should have completely cleared the system last month."
"Well, he says they're still on the account and that the only way to get them off is by canceling them on your phone."
"I can't cancel them on my phone. They aren't on my phone anymore." I wasn't mad at my mom, but to anyone listening it may have come across that way. I reassured her. "I'm sorry, I'm not yelling at you. I'm yelling at stupid Verizon. This is not the first time they've done this."
"I know. Did you remove them from your phone or from the website?" she questioned.
"Both."
"But you're sure you removed them from your phone?"
"Positive."
"Because he says that some people think they remove them when they block them on the website, but they have to go through their phone manually and remove them as well."
"Mom, they're not on my phone." I tried not to sound peeved at her. She was doing the best she could.
"Well," she reasoned, "Why don't you hang up the phone, check in the Get It Now section of your phone really quick, and call me right back. Just to make sure."

I ended the call and browsed the Get It Now section. There were four items in there: "ozforms," "OZHTMLWIDGET," "OZWIDGETS," and "Mobile IM." The OZ ones seemed like they were probably helper files for the menus on my phone, and they weren't applications I could open (I tried), so I targeted Mobile IM. I tried removing it. It said "Erased:" still there. I tried removing again: still there.

There certainly wasn't any Mobile Mail, Wikipedia, WeatherBug, or etc. I called my dearest mother back.

"Okay," I explained, "Here's what I got. Write these four down, call him back, and ask him if any of these are what I'm being charged for. If so, I'll cancel them, but I think they're just helper files, and Mobile IM doesn't work anyway, so I don't think it's really on my phone anymore."

Twenty minutes later, my mom called me back again.

"Well, they're gone," she cheered.
"Wait, what's gone? I didn't remove anything."
"I know. But the lady I talked to said they're gone now," Mom answered.
"But what about those four things in the Get It Now menu I mentioned? Am I being charged for those?" I was confused.
"Doesn't look like it. She said there are no longer any subscriptions attached to your phone. They were all just removed."
"But ... I ... Didn't ... Remove ... Anything ..."
"You know what this looks like, Alex." Yes, I did. "It looks like I'm a naive mother who believes her teenage son who's lying to her. I know you're not lying to me, but they think I'm silly for trusting you."
"My generation is stupid," I interjected. Amen.

My mom and I continued to talk for a bit longer before I realized exactly what had happened. It was when I realized that she hadn’t talked to the same Customer Service Representative when she called you the second time. The second Representative told Mom that just minutes before, all the applications had been removed from my phone. But I had no applications on my phone. I had looked. How could I remove them if they weren't being shown on my phone? More significantly, how could I remove them when I removed them two months ago?!

I understand my generation loves to lie and twist the truth. I understand there are a lot of parents out there that are naive and don't fully understand when their children are taking advantage of them. But I would like to point out a few things: I'm not a teenager, my mother is not stupid or naive, I love my mother (and we get along great), and I don't lie to her!

Here's what I can only assume happened. The first Representative my mom talked to thought I did have applications on my phone and that I was lying to my mom about it. He then realized something after looking at our account history: I had tried to remove the applications two months prior, just as I was saying. They had removed themselves from my phone (rendering me helpless when trying to remove them manually) but for some reason were still attached to the account, thus charging me. The first Representative tells my mom that only I can cancel the subscriptions directly from my phone and that they're still on there. After she hangs up and calls me, the first Representative manually cancels all the application subscriptions himself, even though he specifically told my mom he couldn't do that (and she had even asked him to).

Now, how does this look? The first Representative manually cancels the subscriptions while the naive mother is on the phone with her lying son. See what this looks like? It looks like I just lied to my mom while canceling the subscriptions from my phone myself to get out of trouble. When my mom called you back to tell you there aren't any applications on my phone for me to delete, you were then able to tell her the reason there weren't any applications on the phone was because they were just deleted. And, according to the first Representative, the only way to cancel those applications was from my phone. Now I'm a liar. Thanks.

I would switch cell phone companies, I really would. I'd love to be able to threaten you with that. Unfortunately, you have the best coverage and plans of any phone company out there, and you know it. That's the most frustrating part. You know you have us wrapped around your finger, and you abuse that severely with situations like this. Well I may be a customer that's forced to keep my account with you, but I am not happy with you. Luckily, my mom is not stupid and naive, and she believed me over your lousy Customer Service Representative.

A Very Displeased Customer,
Alex Laird

RA Fail

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-25T12:18:39-06:00

Dear RA Who Delivered Demerits to the Gentleman Texting in the Balcony of Chapel Yesterday:

My name is Alex Laird. You may have seen my picture here. You may notice that there’s a difference in appearance between that person and the person you gave demerits to yesterday in chapel who gave you my name as his own. That’s because that was my roommate, Dave.

I forget the state, but there was once a guy who was arrested for refusal to cooperate with a Police Officer. After being pulled over, the officer asked him to show him his Driver’s License and Insurance Identification. The man refused to show the cards, but diligently produced the numbers for each (including expiration date) for all forms of his identification. The officer again asked him to produce the materials. The man informed the officer that, by law, he was not required to produce the physical cards, all he was required to give the officer were the numbers. The officer could have just taken the numbers, written them down, and run them through system back in the squad car. Instead he arrested the man.

The case went to court. The man’s defense was that Police Officers should be required to know the laws in their own states. It’s true, you aren’t required to show your actual driver’s license (in certain states) if you can give them a valid number that they can look up; the officer didn’t know this, but the man who was pulled over did. The case was finally dropped because, well, the guy hadn’t done anything wrong. But he certainly proved his point. If the upholders of the law don’t even know all the laws they’re supposed to be upholding, what’s the point of having them uphold them?

Dave and I like to test RAs. It’s a sick fascination we have, I guess, taunting them by quoting from the rule book and weaseling our way out of demerits. I guess I don’t know the official procedure, but I would assume RAs are supposed to ask you for both your name and your identification number; at least, every one I’ve ever talked to always has. What are the odds you actually have a friend’s ID number memorized?

Yesterday, Ryan and I didn’t sit in the balcony of chapel. We sat down on the floor with Kristi for a change of pace. Dave still sat in the balcony. In the empty seats Ryan and I would have been, a Willets RA sat. Next to Dave. Who was texting (per usual). At the end of chapel, the RA informed Dave she was going to have to give him demerits for being inattentive. Though, let’s be honest, he was probably be more attentive than the majority of the rest of the students in chapel, right? Turkey Break starts tomorrow, let’s be honest. Out of spite toward Ryan and me for not sitting with him, Dave gave the RA my name instead of his own. She didn’t ask for his ID number.

These are, hands down, the bests demerits I ever will have received! Demerits take several weeks to process, usually, so I’m hoping they arrive in my Inbox before the end of the semester. I’ll be sure to post them on Facebook as soon as they do :)!

Facebook Chat Friends and Soccer Players

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-25T10:00:49-06:00

I was sitting in the computer pit, outside The Hive, when I overheard the following conversation. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Soccer Jock 1: I got 120, man!
Soccer Jock 2: No way, dude! That’s awesome!
Soccer Jock 1: I’m serious. It almost didn’t happen, and I was so shocked when it did, but now I have the record.
Soccer Jock 2: That’s pretty sweet. So how did it happen?
Soccer Jock 1: Well, the old record was, like, 107. But I beat that by a landslide.
Soccer Jock 2: Yah?
Soccer Jock 1: Yah. Soccer Jock 3 and I were just sitting at my computer the other night, watching it go up. It was at 100, then it jumped up to 106, then it dropped down to 98. I didn’t think it was going to happen, and then, for a few seconds, it jumped to 120!
Soccer Jock 2: Nobody’s going to believe you, though.
Soccer Jock 1: No, dude, Soccer Jock 3 was there too! He saw it.
Soccer Jock 2: Well, at least you have a witness. That’s awesome.
Soccer Jock 1: Yah. So, now I have the record on the Soccer team for most friends on Facebook Chat at one time.

You, my friend, need to get a life. I have an idea. How about you go out and spend some time with a few of those 120 friends (who are clearly as anti-social as yourself) instead of sitting in your room hoping to get a record number of them to all sit down at their computers and sign onto Facebook at the same time. That’s just sad. What’s even more sad is that you’re having a competition over it with your Soccer team. You do know that most of the school scoffs at your arrogance, right? And this isn’t helping your case out much ...

I’m still not sure which is worse though: the Soccer team or the Baseball team. But this scenario definitely helped the Soccer team a lot of points against them.

Please Stop Breaking Up In Awkward Places

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-24T15:55:31-06:00

There I was, wandering the SSC in an attempt to find Kristi. The search was in vain, I now realize, because she was in Chuck’s; I place I didn’t plan on looking. (Why are you eating now? I still don’t understand. It’s before 5:00.)

Okay, first side tangent. People at Cedarville eat at ridiculous hours! At home, I’m used to eating at normal and civilized hours such as 6:00 or 6:30. You know, after your Dad gets home from work? I come to Cedarville, and it took me several months of eating by myself before realizing if I wanted company when I ate Dinner that I’d have to eat when I wasn’t hungry. Ridiculously early times such as 5:00 and 5:30. And, apparently, not 4:30. I didn’t even know Chuck’s opened that early.

But that’s not even really part of my story. My story involves breaking up. I went through The Hive, checked my mail (again), and finally decided she was nowhere to be found and that I would sit on one of the comfy couches by the computers underneath the stairs. As I approached said area with comfy couches, I noticed an Awkward Lounge Couple. Except this Awkward Lounge Couple was exceptionally awkward. They weren’t in a lounge either. They were in a coat room. The coat room by the bookstore. This seemed a strange place for a couple to be hanging, albeit I’ve seen stranger and more disturbing in my day.

Turns out this couple wasn’t just hanging. Oh no. The Awkward Lounge Couple seemed to be having a DTR, and it wasn’t the good kind of DTR. It appeared to be one of those “We aren’t an R anymore” sort of DTRs. It had all the tell-tale signs of breakupness. Guys head hung in shame. Guy still remaining to sit awkwardly close to girl, even though she was clearly trying to get away. Girl looking far too pleased with herself considering the guys extremely depressed expression. Guys hands folded in his lap. Guy on the verge of crying. Girl sort of doing that weird try-to-touch-his-arm-without-actually-touching-his-arm sort of thing to reassure him/not give him false hope at the same time.

It was just really awkward. And to add to things, it was in a coat room. On uncomfortable chairs that were stacked in the coat room. (Yes, the guy was actually sitting on said stack of chairs, feet not touching the ground.)

So, Cedarville couples, please stop breaking up in public places. This is at least the third public breakup I’ve seen this year. Lounges are just awkward places, not only for the other person involved in the breakup, but also for everyone else in the lounge ... Especially for everyone else in the lounge. This couple seemed to be making an effort to stay out of the lounges and opted for a coat closet. Really, that’s not any better. Not only was it close to a lounge anyway, it’s ... It’s a coat closet! I can’t say anything else about this. I’m too weirded out.

In Which I Hack Jenna's Blog

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-21T20:19:12-06:00

Current Status: Causing Mischief!

That’s right, folks. Ashley and I took Jenna’s blog hostage. After hacking her account, we decided we would write a blog post (from her perspective) while she and Joey were in the car on their way to Iowa. After doing some preliminary research (i.e. reading old blog articles by her, stealing perviously used pictures of Henry, thinking up stories Jenna would tell, etc.), we recalled her aforementioned affection for the cows near the Kansas Turnpike. This was our target.

That’s right, Jenna. We’re both on your blog right now!

We sat on the Grandparent’s couch and hammered out a post for JennaWoestman.com in less than thirty minutes.

Our soon to be infamous blog post is HERE!

The Question of Music, Meaning, and Life Project

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-19T14:34:13-06:00

After viewing a few John Cage videos on YouTube (like this one, this one, and possibly this one), I thought to myself, “What the heck ... I could write this crap.” And so, using his song 4’33” as my deepest inspiration, I proceeded to do just that. In fact, I made an entire album, with philosophical song explanations and artwork to go along with it.

If you’re going to download the album, just realize that it probably won’t actually make much sense unless you read the liner notes (which are only provided on the website at the link below). If you don’t read those, you will basically miss the point of this project.

People make money off this stuff. I just do it for fun. I apologize if you actually like John Cage, but that is not music. The following is meant for satirical purposes and not meant to be taken seriously ... At all.

The Question of Music, Meaning, and Life Project

My Icky and Cold Morning

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-19T09:32:13-06:00

This morning, as I left my dorm room and headed to work, the temperature was below 25 degrees, and I shudder to even speculate at what the wind chill was.

That being said, I was forced to don my coat, gloves, and soft hat this morning, even though they didn't match the rest of my outfit. It's a sad day when I'm forced to bust out the coat ...

I've Officially Been Cited

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-18T21:48:18-06:00

Just over two years I wrote what essentially amounted to be a research paper on Apple. You can read the entire article here.

This week, I was officially cited in a paper written by Gabe Pyle as a reliable source on the subject! In fact, he portrays me as quite a scholarly fellow in his paper, if I do say so myself.

Also, I’m planning on writing a second article dealing with the recent rise in internet stupidity, especially relating to failed attempts to converse in a civilized conversation and the continuing debate of Mac vs. PC. I have an exam tomorrow, but once that is over I should start on it.

I Am Alex's Inability to Concentrate

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-18T19:27:16-06:00

I have an Old Testament exam I should be studying for. You can’t blame me too much for not studying right now. I’m in class right now learning about Binary Search Trees and balancing an AVL Tree. The classroom is too warm, and the weather outside is too cold. Somewhere trapped between the two extremes is my inability to think straight and the cause of my obnoxious sweating. Like most rooms at Cedarville, this one is filled with distractions. There’s the huge windows which allow me to look down toward the Milner and Tyler buildings. There’s that comfy and hideous couch in the corner which no one ever sits in and everyone wonders why it’s even in the room. There’s my notebook paper, which can easily be shredded into a million pieces throughout the course of a class period; it’s amazing how many ways you can rip a small piece of paper. Then, of course, there’s my laptop, which is an infinite source of distraction. Although it’s not necessarily all these distractions that are the source of my inability to focus. They just feed it when it’s hungry.

I am Alex’s inability to concentrate. Merely a child of his ADD mind and obsessive compulsive characteristics. I’m the reason he counts his steps. I’m the reason he over thinks every situation. I’m the reason he studies minute details that nobody else notices. I’m the reason he walks in syncopation with the music on his headphones. And in a contrasting sort of way, I’m the reason he can’t concentrate on nothing and fall asleep at night.

I make him run potential conversations over in his head, taking every possibly path the conversation might take, traversing every possible scenario even past the point of literal and ethical standards. And I’m also the reason he forgets all the scenarios when finally presented with the aforementioned conversation. I scatter his thoughts and make him forget the sentences he had so carefully constructed.

I’m the reason he taps his foot, shakes his arm, or twitches his hand when most people sit still. I’m the cause of his intermittent thought patterns. I’m the cause of his dazing off, staring at nothing for minutes on end. And I extend far beyond his academic life.

I probably make him feel crazy most of the time, but that’s my job. I’m just doing what I’m meant to do.

Unnecessary Quotation Marks

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-17T11:51:24-06:00

I have this thing where I “can’t stand” it when people use quotation marks unnecessarily (unless it’s for ironic purposes, of course). So, of course, when I saw this sign, it was one of the happiest moments of my life.

There is an entire blog dedicated to the exploiting the misuses of quotation marks. Check it out here.

The Best Hot Chocolate I've Ever Had

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-16T12:24:16-06:00

Yesterday, I had the single most delicious cup of hot chocolate that I have ever had. And I credit the entire experience to Kristi Zimmerman, as she showed me how to make it, and it was her experimental recipe. So all can share such a wonderful experience, I will share the proper procedure for making this delicious chocolaty goodness.

Get for yourself a proper sized coffee mug.
Fill the mug 3/4 full of hot water.
Fill the mug 1/8 full of regular coffee.
Mix.
Pour a packet of proper hot chocolate mix into the mug.
Mix.
Pour a shot of Irish Creamer into the mug.
Mix.
Drink and enjoy before it cools down.

The last step is critical, as there is nothing worse than cold hot chocolate or coffee.

Thanks, Kristi. You’re officially the bomb-diggity.

I Know You Were Texting in Chapel

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-14T14:28:28-06:00

That’s right, I know everything. But don’t worry, I won’t turn you in for it. I do it all the time.

Who was in chapel this morning, can I see a show of hands? Well, someone was texting in chapel this morning; someone who uses AT&T, and I can almost prove it.

AT&T has got a few things going for them these days, namely the iPhone and their amazing 3G network. While 3G is awesome, here’s the biggest problem with it. It has such high bandwidth data transfer that the signal frequently interferes with surrounding signals. I’ve also heard, though this is not confirmed, that AT&T text messaging uses some sort of an interface that interferes specifically with Bluetooth devices, which your laptop and most computers probably have.

My roommate has a phone that is powered by AT&T. I can predict, almost with perfect accuracy, when he’s going to get a text message before his phone even buzzes. We’ll be sitting in our room, he watching TV, me at my desk doing who-knows-what, and the speakers to our dorm computer will start to sputter, making a staccato style “daaaa-ta-ka-daaa-ta-ka-daaa-ta-ka-daaaaa” sound over and over. “Dave, you’re getting a text.” Seconds later, his phone buzzes.

So, remember that loud and obnoxious “daaaa-ta-ka-daaa-ta-ka-daaa-ta-ka-daaaaa” that we heard blasting over the sound system this morning, interrupting Dr. Brown as he was recognizing our Grandparents? There’s an extremely high chance (I’d say ... 90%) that the cause of that was someone in chapel receiving a text message on the AT&T network.

Grandparent's Day

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-14T12:37:28-06:00

I know, Grandparent's Day is the first Sunday after Labor Day, which would be back in September or something. But here at Cedarville, Grandparent's Day is today! It's true! Today is the day we celebrate our grandparents, though I celebrate mine every day of the year :).

Today we had Grandparent's Chapel where we recognized all the grandparents present; we even showed a video of students all over campus talking about why they loved their grandparents. I tried finding the video, but it isn't on our Student Government's website and I can't find it on YouTube, so I guess I'll just have to describe it, if at all possible.

Well, Liz was walking around with the camera and microphone on Monday, and she found me. I'm always more than willing to gloat about my grandparents, so I said a few words about why I love mine. Unfortunately, they cut out my comment about how my Grandparents Laird have been married for over fifty years, which I think is amazingly awesome, but that's alright.

So, why do I love my grandparents? Well, first and foremost, it's they're examples to all of us children as to what a relationship with Christ should look like. Not only that, another encouraging thing is how evident it is that they're interested in their grandchildren's lives (that's me)! On the video, Grandpa, I commented on how you're always technologically savvy and how you even have an iPhone, which you frighteningly use to text me and others while driving. (Sorry, everyone laughed ... You really shouldn't text and drive, you know. There are laws.)

My Grandpa Laird is a great guy with a sense of humor similar to my own, so we get along great for that reason. I like to think he’s a genius. He has been successful in life and always knows the answers to my questions when I call him to ask him things, usually relating to politics or government. We exchange knowledge in that way; I give him computer help and he gives me political help. If he doesn’t know the answer, he’ll find it for me. I said it above, but I’ll say it specifically, my Grandpa Laird loves the Lord with everything in him. He and my Grandma pray together regularly, and he loves to share Christ with people. For a few years he was a pastor, though I wasn’t alive at the time, so I don’t really remember it. I love talking about religious things with him as well as politics. (Just ask him about Christmas … It’s fun *wink*). In general, he’s just a fun guy to converse with, no matter what the subject matter.

My Grandma Laird loves to take us shopping. She loves to spoil us (but in a good way). Whenever we're going to be visiting my grandma on my dad's side, we'll always receive a call the week before asking what sorts of sugary cereals we want to eat while we're there. (Mom never would buy us Lucky Charms.) Ice cream? She'll get it. Pizza? We'll order it. My grandparent's house was the only place I ever really watched cable TV because we didn't have it. We had a TV, but it only had local channels, and I rarely ever even watched them. So when we visited my grandparents, we would always wake up early and watch the morning cartoons. Grandma Laird is a wonderful woman who loves the Lord just like her husband, and not only does she share God’s love with people whenever she can get the chance, she’s encouraging to us grandchildren as well to persevere through trials and maintain a right relationship with God.

My mom’s mom, Grandma Richardson, is the cutest little grandma ever. I got a card in the mail from her the other day, and she went on to describe the cows, the chickens, what my mom was doing, and how my family was, since I wasn't there to see them. She gives splendid hugs, and caring for others is her specialty. Grandma loves God and she loves everyone around her, and she’s a special one with which no one else can compare. She knows all of her grandchildren and great grand children, which is saying quite a bit because she has a lot. When I say she knows them, I mean she knows great details about each of them. She makes it a point to keep up with her family’s lives, and that’s a true blessing.

My Grandpa Richardson, who went to be with Jesus a few years ago, had the biggest heart for God I think I've ever seen in anyone. In his younger years, he was a Baptist pastor (I guess I’m surrounded by them), and he has always served the Lord with all his strength, even when his strength was waning. My favorite thing to do with him was to sit on the couch next to his chair, pick up the Bible, open it to a random location and read a random passage. Then I would ask him the reference. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, even when it took him a few minutes to respond, but if he couldn't nail it down to the exact reference, he could at least tell you the book and probably even the chapter. Additionally, he was able to give you the context of the verse and why it was significant. (Those were free, you didn't even have to ask him and he just would tell you that.) He was truly an amazing man.

All of my grandparents are amazing. They all care about us and love us, and they're all interested in our lives. Let's face it, without my grandparents, I wouldn't be where I am today, and neither would my parents. You're all amazing people who have poured your lives into not only each other and others but also into your grandchildren, and you've made a huge difference in my life. I love you all very much!

New Posts On Dave and Alex's Happy Fun-Time Blog

alexdlaird@gmail.com — 2008-11-13T20:50:34-06:00

Since I have yet to take the time to route the Dave and Alex’s Happy Fun-Time Blog RSS feed into this blog, I’ll just have to include links to my most recent posts on the blog. Here you go.

Things I’ve Seen, Pt. 3

Things I’ve Seen, Pt. 4

Things I’ve Heard, Pt. 2

Read up. I strongly suggest Things I’ve Heard, Pt. 2, which relates to recent ridiculous comments on the election. Gotta love ‘em!