Las Vegas: Not Really for Lovers

I have a confession to make: I am consistently scanning the horizon for a relationship status change. I could write pages on the thesis that I am not looking for any major commitment at this point in my life. But, the primary focus would be the sappy and groan-inducing things that I miss about having around that 'special someone': someone to call on my way home from work, someone to have a certainty of Friday/Saturday plans with, spending the majority of a day watching movies/television and still feeling like you've done something moderately productive, etc.

As much as the radar is checking ring fingers and trying to catch more-than-random glances every waking hour, I've found that spending a little time in the Las Vegas airport is giving the radar operate a little R&R. We can go ahead and run at minimal power for the next hour and a half. There will be no Bastille storming anytime soon.

Las Vegas is one of those unfortunately many places on earth where you can get an overwhelming sense of the depravity of man. And, I'm not about to break into a bashing of gambling, drunkenness, or smoking. For starters, I smoked a pretty good cigar for a solid hour last night while getting slightly tipsy... and, I love a good poker night as much as the next person.

No, I'm much more of a "everything in moderation", fence-sitting kind of guys. The depravity that I'm feeling now is that sense of hopelessness and hollowness. I could very well be projecting the emotions that I am feeling when I glance upon an elderly person in a wheelchair strapped to an oxygen tank pulling rhythmically at the arms of a slot machine. They could be riding the roller coaster of life and loving every gripping minute of hoping the odds will fall in their favor. But, I doubt it.

The scary thing was sitting next to a guy on my flight down here and realizing that the main thing that separates he and I is roughly 3 decades. He wasn't on oxygen or had any noticeable disabilities, he looked like a pretty healthy 50-year-old guy. But, I was reading 'The Wild Things' by Dave Eggers, and I was falling in love with the character of Max. The character in the book is VERY similar to the kid in the movie and my first reaction to the kid on screen was 'Whoa! Slow down.' I'm no psychologist, but I was definitely leaning toward A.D.D.

And, the book paints Max in almost the same light. He has trouble focusing his thoughts at time, he is prone to episodes of acting on instinct, he's a very antsy kid. But, then it hit me, what part of being a normal 8-year-old isn't like that? Aren't kids supposed to get in a little trouble and push boundaries and confound their parents at how surprisingly simple their thought process is?

Basically, I was defending Max because I'm mostly sure that I was pretty close to that kid when I was growing up. I didn't have a lot of snow in SoCal to make a fort and have it fall on me... but, my brother and I collectively thought it was a good idea to spit on our carpool's ride. Why? Because we pretended to spit on another car on the way home, and he called us out on it. He said we pretended, so we decided to show him by actually spitting on his car.

Makes sense, right? Well, no. It's stupid. It's illogical. It's very... childish. Would I do it again today? No. Is it something I have fused in my memory and now, twenty years later, has made me a fully-functioning adult? I'm going to vote 'yes', but I understand that may be up for debate.

So, back to the guy on the plane. If I was used to be a Max and am now somewhere lost in my mid-twenties, then I am on the path to becoming the guy next to me: a wise, experienced old guy. Wise old people havent been that way their entire lives... they kinda had it formed around them.

But, there is a lot to do between now and then. And, what’s the probability that I’ll be the guy on the plane? What’s stopping me from winding up in Atlantic City with a walker and an alcohol addiction?

Not enough. I need to get out of here and get my radar going again.

Dreaming of Physics

Shoot.

Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.

I purchased three books yesterday. And, despite my repeated convictions to spend less money at Powells and spend more time at the library borrowing books, money is not at the center of my present worries.

Well, it is... but, that's because I am still trying to replenish my savings account after a financially devastating November and December filled with a small amount of Christmas shopping, traffic tickets, first and last month's rent, and a new TV. (Note: The last two hurt so good.)

However, my explosion of harmless expletives has roots, not in anything monetary, but in what the books mean for my future/next year/destiny.

The first one? 'The Universe in a Nutshell' by Stephen Hawking. Yawn. Is anyone really surprised? The amateur astronomer completed his collection of Hawking books? Isn't he tired of purchasing books that don't make any sense to him?

The second one? 'The Wild Things' by Dave Eggers.

Okay, so this one has little cause for alarm. Actually, I should be celebrating... And, I should have one less 'shoot'. Let's start this whole thing over:

Shoot.

Shoot. Shoot.

'The Wild Things' is Dave Egger's novel based on Maurice Sendak's 'Where the Wild Things Are'. He helped write the screenplay for the recent film adaptation. And, apparently during the process of writing the screenplay, Eggers was encouraged to put the plot into a novel, as well. As I have been rendered smitten by each of Eggers' other works, I expect his interpretation of this classic to smote me once more.

Okay, so, that was a good more. I can't consider a chain of events where I would regret purchasing this book. Even if it winds up being an unenjoyable read, the book was produced covered in fur that gives it the appearance of being its own 'wild thing'. One way or another, this guy is going on my shelf.

So, the third one? The third one isn't even a traditional book! The first was nonfiction, the second fiction... the third is a test prep book. Not bad enough? It is the test prep book for the Physics GRE.

See, I spent my Martin Luther King Jr. Day turning my life around. Remember the leaves? I was turning them. I started a blog, I dedicated myself to going to the gym before work in the morning, and I sent emails of inquiry to universities across the United States that I might apply for enrollment into their Master's of Astronomy program. The response was overwhelming:

"Well, you only have a math degree... It would be better if you had physics... The GRE will be the bar that you're measured from."

"Then I'll teach myself physics!" the Max in me proclaimed. "I've got a healthy start, just grant me six months and a few books and the laws of physics will be tucked safely under my belt!"

That was my demeanor as I drove to Powells, as I tracked down the test prep books, as I paid with a swipe of my Discover card, as I had my parking verified, as I drove home, as I climbed into bed with the book, as I blogged about how I was about to crack the book open...

But, not as I started reading. Wow. As the pages turned, my fire flickered. A grave reality set in: those who teach themselves entire subjects of academia accomplish truly great feats. Feats that are definitely not the norm.

I 'shoot' repeatedly through this bombastic musing because I ran headfirst into the realization that there is a long, strenuous road in front of me that I must intentionally take steps down every day. A long, strenuous road that I could march powerfully down and easily wind up with nothing. The odds are definitely in favor me reaching the end, taking the exam, and not scoring as well as I needed to.

So, my watered-down profanities comes from the realization that I've got to do this thing and it may not pay off. I've got to stick with it... I've got to stick with it....

I've got to.

Unlocking A Door That Should Probably Stay Closed

Day 2: So far, so good. I've got a favorite position in my bed: wrapped up to the undersides of my shoulders in two blankets with a third blanket within arm's reach, laptop sitting on those blankets right where it belongs (my lap), and... and...

Well, I guess there are only two real requirements for my new 'Blog and Bedtime Position'. But, the important part is that I am here writing, I have read a blog that is not my own, and I commented on it. I should purchase some gold stars.

And, through the course of my driving to Barnes and Noble, then Powells, and finally back home this evening, I have a schedule I am hoping to keep most nights:

10:00pm - B.B.P. Read other blogs, spend a few minutes crafting my own.

10:20pm - Bust out my new Physics GRE test prep book and try to work through at least two problems.

10:40pm - One page at a time, attempt to relocate books from the staggering 'still need to read' pile to the rather embarrassingly small 'totally owned this book'.

Somewhere around 11, 11:30 - Go to bed! Get some sleep! And, get your ass out of bed by 5:30 to go to the gym before work!

That's my current formula for success and grad school for Fall 2011. Actually, in this formula, success and grad school might be interchangeable on their side of the equation. There is a part of me that will forever tap it's foot in anticipation if I don't at least attempt to become an awkwardly social astronomer.

Oh, gosh. Awkwardly social... That might be my new favorite string of words for the next indeterminate amount of time. Albeit a short string, 'awkwardly social' so much more accurately describes my handicaps as a person. And, who I ultimately aspire to be.

Being a person so disconnected from the rules of daily interaction is a painful thing for everyone who is not the socially awkward person. When a socially awkward person becomes an element in any scenario, the rules to being socially awkward imply that the awkward person has no clue that they are the one turning the air around them palpable.

Saving Grace! I, Justin Hudec, feel the awkwardness of the situations that I find myself a part of! Does this mean that I cannot be accurately described as 'socially awkward'?! Because, more often than not, these uncomfortablilities do not arise from me being unaware of a situation or conversation happening around me. No. More often than not, I find myself in an awkward situation because of my inability to let a bad idea be a bad idea. When I feel the need to chime in, my penchant for half-backed schemes and thoughts overpowers the small, timid side of me asking, "Is that really a good idea?"

Oh, no! It is 10:30! I've passed my time for blogging and must move onto physics! It's okay, since I bought the book today I will use my time reading the introduction and "how to use this book" section. That shouldn't take too long, then I can jump back into 'Wampeters, Foma, and Granfalloons'. (Again, Google or coffee. You can probably count on a lot of references like that...)

It Would Be Greatly Appreciated If You Added This to Your Google Reader

Alright, one more fast note and then I am calling it a night. When I decided to start a new blog earlier tonight I mandated myself to use the three 'titles' I had written down in my iPod Notes as titles to individual blogs to get this thing going.

This one's title may be a stretch, but I would get it if I saw it on a track listing to a new CD.

Essentially, I wanted to say that I intend on writing on this semi-regularly. One of the things I'd like to do this year is really get into following people's blogs. I know that there is a major upheaval going on about using the internet and technology to keep in touch with people. But, I also know that a lot of people that mean a lot to me or should mean a lot to me are posting really awesome stories, adventures, and thoughts on a daily basis and I am missing out on most of them by simply not spending five minutes outside of my usual Gmail -> facebook -> Cracked.com internet path. If I were a dog, the paths between those websites would be a streak of dead grass through a backyard with how many time I go back and forth between those sites and never deviate.

So, this is my resolution: To spend more time on the internet every day.

Okay. That didn't say exactly what I wanted it to say...

My resolution is to be more intentional with the time I use on the computer by keeping tabs on other people's blogs, keeping mine fairly fresh, and live-tweeting the Bachelor when possible.

Future Song Titles (It Would Be a Bad Day If My Car Was Impounded)

At first, I was going to go with 'Analogists Anonymous'. I was trying to think of something creative to call this new, breakthrough blog. I was thinking of all the fun ways I could cleverly use 'AA' when referencing my own blog. But, then, I felt really conflicted about the idea that analogies were a crutch. Or, a way to bury my problems deep inside me.

Shoot, now I'm rethinking everything. What are analogies but a crutch (a tool to help explain something a little more complex) or a way to bury my problems deep inside me (I didn't feel this one needed more explanation, but the left side of my brain will be damned before it lets me only use one set of parenthesis in a sentence where I use the word 'or' and the first half got a parenthesis).

No. Stick with it, Hudec. The real reason I bailed on the 'AA' idea was because that would seriously set me up for failure. I am definitely of the opinion that analogies are our way of comprehending ideas and theories that rival intuition. Like, using a pond full of blind fish with a drain in the middle that can accelerate water to the speed of sound to explain black holes and their accompanying Schwartzchild radius. (Google it. Or, ask me to coffee. I am a strong proponent of either.)

But, I am far from a master of analogies. I wish I was, and I definitely want to incorporate as many analogies as I can. But, the idea of 'AA' would mean bringing people together to discuss their analogies and how they are better than mine. And, while I would give my left leg at the knee to have a healthy comment section on every one of my blogs, to call it "Analogists Anonymous" would imply that I would have an analogy more often than not to explain something that happened in my life. And, I will not make a boast that I can't back up.

EXCEPT THAT THE SAN FRAN 49ERS ARE GOING TO WIN THE SUPER BOWL IN 2011!!! YOU CAN TAKE THAT TO THE BANK!!

Nope, I'm sticking with 'Future Song Titles'. The ethos behind this decision is that I often mentally summarize events that take place during the day as facebook status updates or clever phrases I can see on the back of a Fall Out Boy album. For instance, let's say that, hypothetically, I've had my driver's license suspended from January 4th to February 4th for acquiring four traffic violations in a period of less than two years but I am choosing to commute to work anyway. During my trip to work I'd brainstorm facebook statuses like:

"Justin Hudec is really hoping to not see any cops on the road for the next month." Or...

"Justin Hudec is wondering who wants to spend the night at his house to drive him to work in the morning..." Or...

"Justin Hudec is rolling the dice today!"

Either that, or I'd try to summarize it in a working title that could be used for a song if I wanted the title to tell you a short story without actually using words/a phrase that appear in the song:

"It Would Be a Bad Day If My Car Was Impounded"

That could be the name of a song, right? Well, it can also be the title of a blog. And, 'Future Song Titles" is a far more legit name than 'Facebook Status Updates'.

Hassan is an Insider, Attempt is on President Taylor

I'm a pretty bad guesser. Above is a quick note that I wrote to myself during the season premiere of Season 8 of 24 on Sunday night. I was trying to guess the first twist of the season. Turns out I was way off. President Taylor is fine, hasnt seen any danger yet... and, the 'twist' was that there was no twist. It was the brother the whole time.

That's probably why I love 24 so much... if you're just there to roll with the punches even the real predictable stuff just slaps you across the face. And, Lord knows I love a good face slapping as much as the next person. Maybe more.

Alright, I've got three more blogs to write tonight and a whole lot of explaining to do. Don't worry, this was just a trial run. I'm in the process of turning over a new leaf. I'd warn you to get out of the way... but, it's just a leaf, right?