zablo

[zablo]

A little windy but turned out to be a great day for a ride out to the lake #pedalpower #intergalacticsurlybikes #surlystraggler #twinsix #roguepandadesigns #blessed🙏

[zablo]

It had been hours of work at that point. Hours upon hours... stacked on the shoulders of other hours... of other hours from other days. I wasn’t quite finished but “off home and straight to bed,” I thought. It had been raining. a slow walk through drizzle and puddles. Mindless thoughts of nothing lingered until they didn’t. Walking on the sidewalk with a tune through the rain. It hit me all at once. A feeling of familiarity. I stopped, turned and felt small. I looked left then right, between my two destinations and just felt small. It was a great feeling to have simplicity and freedom accompany me. When would I ever be this free again? Straight to bed? No, how about a glass of whiskey and a moment to write it down?

Z

[zablo]

Confidence. Damn that shit is attractive. Pull me in.

[zablo]

One from the archives

Found this gem buried in the internet from a different time in my brain

After what seemed like hours in traffic, Cameron turned into the apartment parking lot where saw heat waves rising off the neighbors’ cars. Dragging a load of groceries and books up the spindly pebble-stoned stairs, he shoved the key onto the door, dumped a sweat stained backpack on the floor, and noticed the red light of the message machine blinking across the curtained gloom of the cramped “studio” he called home. “Shit” he muttered. He had completely forgotten that among the other mindless tasks he had performed on his way home he was supposed to stop by his mother’s house for dinner. Dropping everything on his couch, he made his way over to the stubborn blinking light and pressed the play button. “Hey kiddo’ It’s me. I… uh. I thought you were going to come over today but I guess something came up. Well just give me a call when you get this. I love you… Bye.” At the age of twenty-seven he hardly felt like a kid. As far back as he could remember she had always called him that and couldn’t help being over involved in every aspect of his life. He could hear it in her voice. The casual dinner at her two-bedroom apartment would have turned into a complete criminal investigation of all his life’s current happenings. He was glad to have dodged and decided a phone call would do. After deleting the message, he stepped over the old college textbooks that had fallen off the couch and took the groceries into the kitchen. He walked in front of the refrigerator and was again reminded of debt by numerous over-due bills stuck to the cream colored door. Working as a day manager in the coffee shop up the street barely covered his rent, with food, gas, and utilities added to the mix, it didn’t come close. Over the last three months he had cut off his cable, cell phone, and other conveniences narrowly escaping eviction. Just like every other night, at 6:00 he grabbed a chilled Lone Star from the refrigerator, unplugged the phone line and opened his laptop. After abandoning life as a licensed attorney, he decided to use his masters in creative writing and pursue his dream of being a novelist. He wanted nothing else and saw his years of education to be a complete waste. Six hours of sitting in front of his silver laptop, only a blank screen stared back. He slowly leaned back and closed his eyes. He woke, as usual, to the sound of the same morning radio talk show, grudgingly stepped into the shower and turned the same water on. He ate his cereal. He made a sandwich. He drove to work. The day passed by while he looked on and saw suit after suit. Besides living paycheck to paycheck he was happy to do this job simply knowing it separated him from them. At the end of the shift he drove home madly hoping the words might finally make their way onto his computer screen. He returned his mother’s call and discovered that she had sent some money his way. Reluctantly checking the mail he found a check from his mother as well as more of those bills he couldn’t seem to avoid. At the bottom of the stack sat familiar handwriting backed by a blue envelope. It was from his high school friend David. In contrast to their close friendship, little contact was made in the recent years. With a certain detachment from society he moved to Chile after getting a Bachelor’s in English. Enclosed was a letter and picture. The letter read: Hola Cameron, It’s been a while since you stopped responding to emails, so I figured a letter would do. Hopefully you’re still living in the same spot. I recently saved enough money to buy a piece of land out on the beach. I bought 55 hectares and built a good size yurt outside Vina Del Mar. Anyway I hope everything is going well stickin it to the man in court. You can still email me but I can only check when I’m at the school in Vina. Write back you bitch. Oh and anytime you feel the need, come down and visit. Take it easy, David Although he had always planned on leaving the US, law school kept Cameron firmly rooted and left little opportunity for relaxation, much less a vacation. David’s picture was of the vast blue ocean from what looked like his back door. This rekindled old aspirations that had since been abandoned and forgotten. Those last words echoing in his head he sat down and cracked another Lone Star. The open laptop with its familiar white screen only revealed the blinking cursor taunting him for hours until he painfully fell back, closing his eyes. This time a waking glance at the clock told him it was 3:30, and the day was all but lost. Not that this mattered. It just meant he was that much closer to falling asleep again. He walked to the kitchen for a late breakfast and saw David’s picture of the Pacific Coast teasing him from the counter. After so much time apart he couldn’t find a good reason not to visit his lifelong friend. After running through his head for a few hours, the idea triggered his spontaneous nature. He pulled out his bicycle and headed the library in search of Internet access. Upon arriving he first wrote an email to David: Hey friend. Sorry for not keeping in touch, but I’m coming to see ya. I know it’s the weekend and you may not get this until Monday but you did say I could come anytime. Not quite sure exactly when I’ll be there, but I’m planning on leaving today if I can. If you get this in time that would be awesome, but if not I suppose it’ll be a good laugh. The next to his mother: Hey Mom. I really appreciate the check. It seemed to be a bit much, but I think I’ve found a way to put it to good use. I’m going to visit David in Chile. I’m sure you understand. I’ll probably be down their for a few weeks. Tell Dad I love him and that I will try to keep in touch with both of you. Love you. Bye She certainly didn’t have this in mind when mailing the $5000, but he knew that she would be more than happy to pay for such an excursion. Now he was off to bank the and when he walked in, he again saw nothing but more busy suits. Trying to ignore the overpriced clothing that represented so much of his hatred, he deposited the check. The teller informed him that with a few extra fees he would be able to withdraw this money from an international ATM. Now, all that was left was to pack and head to the airport. Only the essentials he thought, packing many layers to deal with the last portion of the southern hemisphere’s winter. He may have never actually gone to Chile, but all the research he had done as a freshman in college made him feel more than confident in his preparations. Clothes, laptop, and ipod were the only possessions he felt couldn’t stay behind. With a bit of luck and an envelope of cash slipped under his overweight landlord’s door, the remaining possessions wouldn’t be removed. He called a cab to take him to the airport and on the way the driver asked “So where are you headed to?” “Chile,” he responded “Why Chile?” the driver continued. When asked this, the only reasonable response that came to mind was “Why the US?” The driver gave a slightly confused look through the rearview mirror and simply said “Fair enough.” At the airport Cameron stepped out of the cab, grabbed his bag, and quickly proceeded to the ticket counter. Because nothing flew from Austin to Chile directly, he first flew to Miami with a short layover before the long flight. Waiting in Miami also drew his attention to the numerous suits that at this point seemed to be following him. This time however, Cameron didn’t feel he was any better. Relief came when the flight began boarding. He walked impatiently toward the salvation provided by seat 16A. Just being on the plane reminded him that Chilean Spanish was notoriously hard to understand and he hadn’t spoken a word in years. He probably could have benefited by trying to converse with one of the nearby fluent speakers, but he only ordered a drink and closed his eyes. When they opened and looked through the window, a view of Andes with an ocean background left him speechless. He’d witnessed many scenic views in the US and none of it compared. The snow covered peaks reached for the sky until the land receded into the endless ocean. This created instant satisfaction and he complacently gazed at the spectacle for thirty minutes before the descending plane caused its disappearance. This satisfaction immediately turned to a small panic as he attempted to navigate the Santiago airport with broken Spanish. Almost nothing but mere pointing helped as he tried to pull words from the rapid Chilean tongues. He began to worry more and more about his spontaneous choice until he saw his luggage arrived successfully and found a bus from Santiago to Vina del Mar. This was only possible with the help one man’s twelve-year-old daughter who benefited from some form of English program. Gratefully utilizing the young translator, he found an ATM and withdrew $500. This left him with a little more than a quarter of million Chilean pesos despite the declining value of the US dollar. Then the kind man and his daughter led him to the bus and left him with a warning to keep a careful eye on the cash. This proved difficult leaving the city that somehow reminded him so much of a large American city. The bus ride put him around two hours away from Santiago at it’s destination, leaving him lost on foot, still a city away from his target location. He now felt powerless, the continued obstacles stripping him of nearly all hopes. Only twenty-six hours had passed since he left the cab behind in Austin and though he was only on the ground for a short while, the chaos gave an allusion of being lost for days. It was 2:00 in the afternoon so he stopped to sample the local cuisine. He ended up with a “completo” which was a strange hotdog that had avocado, tomato, and mayo. Without any knowledge of the bus system or the sister city of Valparaiso, Cameron wandered around for a few hours and eventually tried to make things easy by taking a taxi. Using the return address on David’s letter landed him in front of an English school in Valparaiso twenty minutes later. It was a white two-story building with an orange tiled roof, and upon walking through the double doors, he saw a woman behind the front desk named Paula. He thought she may have been American until hearing a heavy accent. She didn’t give him the chance to converse in Spanish and immediately asked, “How can I help you?” With a bit of relief he sighed and said, “I’m looking for David Collins.” She looked to the computer screen and after a few moments told him that David was not working today. Luckily she did have a phone number for him. She dialed and handed him the phone. It rang three times and someone picked up. “Bueno,” he answered. “David,” replied Cameron “Si, Quien es?” “It’s Cameron. Did you get my email?” “Cameron? Can’t say that I did. I check it at the school. How are you man? What’s up?” “I’m at your school and you’re not here.” “Wait… what? Are you serious?” he asked. Cameron knew that neither of them expected to be in this country together, especially after Cameron made the decision to attend law school. “Yeah dude I am. Paula here was nice enough to call you up for me. You said in your letter I could visit anytime. So… here I am.” “Well shit man. I’ll head over to pick you up. It’ll be like a half an hour.” “See you then.” The schools dim light gave the notion it was closing, so after Cameron hung up the phone and thanked Paula he walked back outside for the long over due reunion. He tried to make conversation with people while waiting. This time his greatest success was with a little boy but his Mother insisted they continue walking. Almost an hour had passed when an aqua colored scooter pulled up. The driver removed his helmet and Cameron saw the aged but familiar face of his old friend David. “Dude… What the fuck, how have you been?” David said with a quick hug. “Eh, mostly shitty, but whatever I’m in fuckin Chile now.” Cameron replied. “Well here,” as he handed Cameron a helmet, “put this on so we can head back to my place.” “Really though?” Cameron questioned, “A scooter?” “Hey man, I don’t normally end up as a last minute chauffeur. Let’s go” Cameron reluctantly climbed on the scooter and they drove towards David’s house. Even with many layers, riding on the scooter made for quite a cold ride. Two men on 75cc scooter and an abundance of luggage ended up as an interesting trip, but Cameron only looked in awe at the countryside as they continued north, back through Vina del Mar. By the time they finally reached David’s yurt, the sun began to paint the sky orange over the ocean as it fell towards the horizon. David approached Cameron as he gazed into the endless expanse of ocean and said, “I’d ask you what your situation back in the states is, but I got a pretty good idea when I saw you on the curb outside the school.” “Yeah,” he replied, “You know when we finished high school how we were certain that the US wasn’t for us in the long run?” “Sure” “Well I tried to ignore the confusion but I ended up passed out drunk in my own pipe dream.” David laughed out loud and said, “At least you were drunk.” “I guess so.” Cameron said as he chuckled. “Well, there’s no Internet but there’s beer in the fridge and some food in the pantry. I’m gonna crash out so I can get up early for work. I’ll see you tomorrow after I get back. Oh yeah, couch is all yours and I’ll put a towel out but remember to Hueco shower.” He gave Cameron a slap on the shoulder and walked up the beach. After getting his fill of the oceans calming tides Cameron journeyed back up to the house. He went to fridge, grabbed an old looking bottle, popped its top, and lay on the couch as he finished the beer. Pulling a blanket over his legs, he quickly fell asleep. He heard David moving about early in the morning but only decided to get up after the scooter whined away along the dirt driveway. The sun was unavoidable through the yurt’s many windows and a large skylight placed in the roof’s eastside over the kitchen. It was one round room the only doors located in the back towards the beach and opposite the kitchen. A ladder to the right of the doors led to a loft where David slept. His furniture included two old leather couches and a few recliners circled around a low coffee table. On the table was a towel and note: “Sorry I can’t stick around, but I’m sure you won’t mind a day alone. I’ll be back by about four thirty. Help yourself to whatever you can find and remember to shower like you’re in Hueco.” He was referring to a climbing area they had loved as teenagers where water wasn’t abundant. No running water unless absolutely necessary, using it only to get wet and wash off. The shower was stationed in a small square building cattycorner of the oversized deck. The water was cold enough it should have been frozen, and after washing up he headed back inside to find some form of breakfast. He took a couple of eggs from the refrigerator and used the Coleman camping stove next to the sink to scramble them. He was glad to use this thinking David might have cooked over an open fire. He had always insisted on being completely self-sufficient and seemed to take it as far as possible with his own house. Bringing breakfast to the patio, he examined everything while eating. With daylight’s clarity Cameron was surprised to see that everything was actually quite nice. The yurt was built with a log cabin construction and a Mexican tiled roof. It wouldn’t have surprised him if David used trees from his property to build it as Cameron began to notice the various energy producers strewn about the property. Solar panels stood on platforms behind a currently empty garden. Just past the deck that held more people than the living room were twenty or so poles with turbine tops. They sat in a checkered pattern, tops spinning in the crisp breeze slowly building more power without the drawback of a utility bill. The weather ran goose bumps up his spine, but the warm glowing sun made shorts and a T-shirt tolerable. As his first real day on the beach, he couldn’t let the ocean standby without going for a swim. Bringing a towel with him, Cameron removed his shirt and charged the water. It was frigid and on top off the cool air, he could only stay in for a few minutes. Following the quick dip, his exit from the water caused the wind to cover his skin in a blanket of icy needles. He would have done well to remember the wetsuit buried in his luggage. Without heating in the house or warm water in the shower he was forced to lie on the beach, fighting the wind until the sun provided enough warmth to dry off. Back at the yurt he pulled out his laptop and began typing about his adventure thus far while laying in one of the deck’s many hammocks. He wasn’t writing anything that could find its way into a cover, but the ideas came freely. In the last month nothing more than a sentence came from his fingers before being discarded, but this was different. With nothing in mind, there was nothing to discard. He wrote all day only of this new place and the freedom provided by a changed environment. The Pacific was his Walden Pond while the deck was Fairbanks Bus 142. Before he knew it, David’s scooter puttered back down the drive and the clock read 3:49. Pulling Cameron from his pseudo-world back to reality, David came around the yurt yelling, “Que Pasa?!” “Nada wey. Que onda?” Cameron replied “Nothing man. I’m hungry. Let’s cook.” “Right on.” said Cameron as he closed the laptop and headed inside with his host. Cameron grilled two massive steaks while David roasted corn over an open fire. Once the two settled in to eat David asked, “So…. You like the place?” “No dude. It sucks. I hate it.” Cameron joked “Yeah I know. It’s pretty lame.” “I love the ocean and all, but I’d say it’s still a bit cold for a swim.” “Didn’t you bring a wetsuit?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Haha. You went in without it?” “No man. Not at all.” Cameron said adamantly. The two cleaned up and once the sun went down they went back inside. David climbed up to his bed and Cameron fell asleep immediately after laying back on the old tattered leather of his temporary bed. As the days went by, Cameron forgot what a hot shower felt like, slowly felt more permanent on the couch and both found comfort in the revived friendship. David taught four days out of the week leaving Cameron alone a majority of the time, but even when he was home they often spent time in solitude, reuniting for meals. Nearly two months passed and Cameron had left David’s paradise only four times, limiting his travel to the nearest small town for groceries. Winter had now passed and with the warmer temperatures, David desperately tried to convince Cameron to visit Valpo and Vina. Cameron resisted and let the third month pass while his conversational Spanish gradually improved with David’s help. Eventually he stopped making excuses to stay on the beach and decided to make the awkward scooter journey, hugging David tight as they rode to the city. They arrived at David’s school in Valparaiso at 4:00 and left the scooter there, using a cab to get to Vina del Mar. The city seemed much busier than Cameron remembered but with a better understanding of the language, he was less shocked by the hundreds of words that flying past his ears. However, with so much time spent alone the city still became overwhelming. Their first stop was an international ATM. Cameron withdrew what he remembered to be the remainder of his bank account but found that there was still more than $3000 US lingering. It didn’t make sense, but he ignored it insisting David take the withdrawn money as payment for his stay and more than three months of meals. They next stopped at a local café and Cameron again bought the odd hotdog or “completo” he had purchased his first day. In the café he used the computer of a tall, friendly businessman to check his email, and now remembered that he hadn’t written his mother once. His inbox was message after message from family and friends in disbelief of his sudden departure. The most recent message from his mother stood out among the many with the all too familiar title “Hey Kiddo.” It read: Well you haven’t replied yet and I began to worry until I got David’s email and he let me know you’re all right. I’m not sure when you will get this, but It’s fine you left. Your father is pretty angry you just disappeared, but I understand. I’ve transferred as much as I can into your account so you can get on your feet (your father helped too!). If you don’t come back to see me I’ll have to come visit you before too long. I miss you and love you. Mom With this, Cameron mailed back a simple “Thank you. Doing well. I love you.” As he thanked the businessman and left the café, there was a small sinking feeling in his gut. David suggested going to a club for a while before heading back. They arrived at a place called “Scratch” and when entering, he could have been in the US. It was wall to wall with a dancing crowd under flashing lights. They bought drinks then sat down. The whole time Cameron sat, he saw nothing but what he tried to leave in Austin. Without a language barrier the place was more the same than different. He thought to himself, it was a new place and even a new culture; but different colors somehow painted the same dull image on a new canvas. Drink after drink the night went on. Things became blurry and then his eyes closed. He woke suddenly on the leather couch in David’s yurt with the feeling of nails stuck in his temples. He thought of college. “Rise and shine!” David yelled across the kitchen. “Shit… what happened?” Cameron asked as he slowly crawled off the old couch. “You were to wasted to hold onto the back of my scooter so I had to get the taxi to follow me, with you asleep in the back.” “Wow… I guess I had a good time.” “I don’t know man. It was like I blinked and you were all sloppy and rambling something about a picture… or a canvas… or something. I don’t know you were pretty torn up.” “Yeah apparently.” After eating breakfast Cameron was reminded of his mother’s email and decided that he could probably hideout at the yurt for sometime but not long enough. He talked it over with David, and in his spontaneous nature packed his things to catch the next flight out of Santiago and back to the states. Cameron was planning on making a bus trip to Santiago but David insisted on driving him all the way to the airport. One more time they manage to pile far too much onto the tiny aqua scooter and headed out while Cameron said goodbye to the beautiful countryside. Approaching Santiago, he felt some comfort knowing he’d be home soon, but still wished he had taken more time to see the cities that at originally kept him in solitude. The scooter arrived in front of the airport while Chileans stared at the odd site of these two Americans. David gave Cameron a hug and a firm handshake before asking, “So what are you gonna do when you get back?” “Not sure,” Cameron replied, “Last I checked I spent like $100,000 learning to be an attorney. I suppose that’d be a good place to start.” “Keep in touch.” David replied as Cameron walked to the airport entrance. The automatic doors closed behind him, David watched the old friend step out of sight, and they both headed home.

- Zack

[zablo]

I'd say I've wanted be a great number of things in my life as far as I can remember. I wanted to be a good motorcycle rider, I wanted to be included, I wanted to be good at rock climbing, I wanted to be good at being fit, and I wanted to motivate people. I think right not I just want to be happy in a way that doesn't make me fear being sad and I want to be a damn good person. So this morning I'm ripping a tail end quote from a post I read. "Maybe then we can see what an amazing waste the walls we've built between us have been. How they've been there for no truly important reason at all. Maybe then we'll be better at saying I love you, and we're human, you're really just like me." Lifeserial

[zablo]

Official White House photographer Pete Souza captured an estimated 2 million photos over 8 years while Obama was in office… Here’s a selection of some of his favourite shots.

[zablo]

[zablo]

The Monks

  This morning I was fortunate enough to, with the assistance of my lab mate, have wonderfully stimulating conversation first thing when I got in to work. One of the greatest reasons I appreciate Michael so greatly beyond his superior theoretical intelligence is he aspires truly to be an intellect of all forms. Though many of our morning coffee discussions revolve around lab related topics, every so often they don’t.

  Today Michael and I quickly transitioned from typical remarks of our weekends, to the political climate and ultimately the human condition as it plagues what we perceive to be the general population and ultimately ourselves.

   Let me quickly pause to say that I rarely have discussions so deep in nature with anyone, much less about politics in religion. That being said discussions of such topics between us are generally the most successful and rewarding. Furthermore they almost always end in philosophy. The only reason I believe our discussions to so successful and ultimately never negative or hostile is due to the deep seeded respect each of us hold for the other. At no point would either of us ever wish to prove the other wrong or even suggest that the others ideas are anything but well received. We respect each other as scientist, as men, and most importantly as human beings.

  It is important to note that as I believe that rhetoric far too often plays a role in what should be discussion. This small difference well almost always turn a discussion to an argument. I implore all of us to leave the rhetoric at the door if wishing to seek truth in human experience. It is up to a persons own mind to change based on experience and understanding. If others wish to affect that change they simply need provide dialogue and perspective to drawn on. 

    We wander what I would consider a very interesting path, passing over core political interests that superficially divide people experiencing similar problems. The current political climate is deplorable in our eyes largely because what we believe should work as the aforementioned discussion paradigm has divulged into a shit smearing contest that categorizes and dehumanizes people in both directions (but there I am making a judgmental broad assessment of a group of people I don’t have personal experience and hence my self loathing).

  What person subscribing to a existent moral paradigm would be so okay with such behavior by not just the faces at the front of a political institution ( or any institution for that matter) but a large subsection of its supporters (this is not meant to detract from any one party or another but to exemplify an unacceptable behavior currently rampant our country).

  Ultimately an analysis of this political (see social) climate led us dancing briefly through religion which no doubt always leads to philosophy. Its amazing to me how frequently a calm and understanding discussion of religion leads to philosophy. This almost gets me to the original observation and question meant to be posed by this post. 

  We finally got ourselves talking about how hard it is to live in our society and try to live by what might be called the golden rule. Personally, I have a deep and sometimes overwhelming desire to live in a way that is intelligent, empathetic and free of hypocrisy. That being said I often find myself in the role as a stupid, judgmental hypocrite. I would love to tell myself that I am subject to my environment and would be purely virtuous minus the perturbation force that is our society. Not to be some over the top hater on society, as I love society and take delight in many of its offerings but I sure can see why monks lived in temples far away from everyone else. 

  I feel it nearly impossible to reach a state of say fractionalized enlightenment with so many impact negative influences around. Maybe that makes it a more romantic and noble pursuer however. The relentless fight against overwhelming odds knowing that ultimately complete success is unattainable and potentially untenable. Maybe that teaches us to judge ourselves a bit less and be happy for the pursuit itself and what little fruit it may ultimately yield. Im not to certain myself. What do you think? I encourage you to take ask yourself, and even get back to me if you feel driven to do so.

-Zack

[zablo]

I really hate

It when I get excited in the preparation of a delicious salad and it a moment ruin it by pouring gratuitous amounts of salad dressing on top. Damn you salad dressing company for making such a wide mouth bottle. -zack

[zablo]

Javier says

That I should abandon Baylor's PhD program and leave the country in order to pursue a lucrative career as an English teacher in Mexico. This is a classic example of a Mexican that isn't trying to steal someone's job. He wants me to go back to Mexico, which would be a one for one switch. I haven't checked the currency exchange in a while, but if one Mexican painter is equivalent to one American Chemist, than our economy really is pretty fucked. -Zack

[zablo]

My Life

Seems to be exceedingly more routine with each day that passes. The only deviation that has occurred as of late is that I have a bum knee and bum shoulder. This simply means that my exercise routine must be slightly altered in order to rehab these ailments and build strength from the ground up. 

It might come off as a negative thing or that my life has become mundane, but I am actually quite excited by this. It is this routine that has allowed me to live life in a manner which is free from many of the poor decisions i used to regularly make. My clothes are always clean, my room immaculate with all items in their intended places. It really is quite nice. Exercise is frequent and meals are healthy but not overly abundant. 

I received a rough sunburn on my shoulders yesterday which seemed to alter my plans, as I did not go for a swim this morning, but as it turns out, im here at whole foods on a sunday afternoon to use the internet and check the tumblr just as i have been for the last month. Once again, it feels great. It's clearly not the most exciting thing but it is superbly enjoyable in a very domestic perspective. I am a worker bee just counting the days away until I will be thrown back into the greatness of scientific pursuit. 

Maybe it has to do with a regular work schedule, but for this boy having an absurdly scheduled routine is a thing of empowerment. I am less forgetful and more capable than ever. Cheers to this.

-Zack

[zablo]

Meh

A long long time ago there was an obtrusively minded boy like zack. On a particular Thursday he woke up noticing the clouds to be much more populous than his home town generally allowed. After observing this oddity he went about his daily routine until he decided to write a tumblr post that had the word obtrusively in it.

[zablo]

Short Story

Raffi was an orphan who had been kidnapped by two strangers. He lived in their basement and slept under a photorealistic painting of a litter box. They fed him $6 minestrone soup from Citarella and excellent goat cheese, but only gave him diet Vitamin Water to drink (the green tea flavor). This led Raffi to the conclusion that they were artisans and psychologists. He hated them.

[zablo]

Made with Paper

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Made with Paper

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Made with Paper

[zablo]

St. Patty's Day

This was kind of an awesome day. Obviously it was quite difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that I was actually going out, as I woke up a bit hungover from previous shenanigans (see dad was right again). Nevertheless I went to work slowly realizing that I had about zero choice in the matter. Work was average besides the background conversation that Michael and I were having about my denial. About an hour before I got off work,Madison sent me a text asking if I was going out. I told her I still wasn't sure, but my charade was quickly brought to a vault when she informed. E that two of her lovely lady friends were in town. Game on says I! The plan immediately became to watch the big air competition on aspen mountain and then go out for drinks. Luckily the roof of my hotel has an excellent view of the event, making it a perfect venue. The Madison and her friends showed up with Michael not far behind. The ladies were quite lovely indeed. We were thrilled that they both had actual intellect and even possessed some knowledge in the ways of heavy sarcasm (see mike and I are jackasses). Grab the beers and off to the roof. The competition left a bit to be desired and certainly did not represent the talent that hangs around aspen on a daily basis. Luckily for us, women are easily distracted by rooftop hot tubs. Naturally I told Madison that she was not allowed in. If you have had the pleasure of meeting this young lady you will know that the previous statement made her spa entrance inevitable. Though my sarcasm nearly ruined the progressing situation, Michael quickly stepped in and saved it. Not long after we found ourselves in that classic after work underwear rooftop hot tubbing scenario (typical I know). It was quite enjoyable and I don't think I could have asked for a better ice breaker for the company we were with. Michael and I were certain this had to be the start of a great night. After drying off and reclothing, it was time to hit the bars. Upon replacing my trousers however it became apparent that my wallet was no longer nestled in the back right pocket it generally calls home. This didn't seem to be a terrible problem until I realized that I still look like a child and have no other way to prove my age. Aspen does not have the loosest policies when it comes to these affairs which landed me back on the roof deck of the hotel searching for my drinking salvation. No luck was had in this particular moment. Not to be discouraged nor parted from this potentially amazing evening, I snuck my way into Eric's bar where my party was enjoying drinks. A round of celebratory vodka shots later, the night seemed to be right back on track. Of course this would be to easy, and a curve all was once again thrown into the plan. Madison seemed to have some form of odd instantaneous breakdown, which sent her and her friends home (sad face). Once again, we refused to let our night be taken and did the only logical thing we could. We bought lots of Irish car bombs and drank them all very quickly. Night saved! I know this seems like a lot of build up to something amazing, but believe it or not this is where the details began to get fuzzy. Because of this I will simply list the important events (see events that were remembered). -car bombs with girls -car bombs -birthday shots with sir ronzio (sp?) -leaving Eric's out the back (taking this one on mike's word) -punching Michael (this I'm certain of) -go to hunter bar -get drinks from girl I from Mexico City (see Aspen Brewery shenanigans) -make out with girl in hunter bar -plan to fight tools on bus -get beat to the punch on this plan -take back door of bus to avoid sheriffs waiting at bus stop -sleep -wake up hungover with no clue of the time -eat mikes pizza -go to work -army crawl under roof deck for wallet retrieval -get off work -go to Galactic show at Belly Up -increase love and appreciation for Galactic -go home -sleep You'll have to forgive me for glancing over the next day, but it seemed appropriate to place those in the list. This is how quickly things seemed to go by after the previous nights events. Henyway. I'm tired of typing. Hopefully more later. -Zack