Friday, April 30, 2004

Last Post of the Holy Month of April.


Butt Cleavage is never a good thing.


~ Connor

Thursday, April 29, 2004

Those Pesky Lists


Isn't anyone going to do any?



~ Connor

7 Days and Counting...

CONCEPT get yourself to Chicago.


Wednesday, April 28, 2004

Spring Cleaning: List #3


Which 10 songs have been most important to you?

In alphabetical order by artist, as of this moment, and subject to change:

~ "Marianne" Tori Amos
~ "Hunter" Bjork
~ "Never Ever" Lush
~ "Out of this World" Gerry Mulligan
~ "Idioteque" Radiohead
~ "Man on the Moon" REM
~ "Sweetness Follows" REM
~ "Here's to the Atom Bomb" Smashing Pumpkins
~ "Hummer" Smashing Pumpkins
~ "Stumbleine" Smashing Pumpkins

Sometimes, I want to walk.


It is so tempting.
At least once a week this happens.
I am at work, and I shuffle the papers and set them neatly on the desk.
Then I stand up, shouldering my backpack, and leave through the suite lobby.
I get on the passenger elevators and take them down twenty floors.
I step out onto the street and follow the street to lake Michigan.

I follow the concrete past Navy pier. I cross the river. I pass the harbor and museum campus. Then Burnham and Jackson park extend eight miles, before I'm dropped in the steel remnants of South Chicago. East Side. Hammond, Indiana. Gary, Indiana. Portage. Porter.

Then I am thirty miles out, among dust and poplars and aspens and railroad tracks, overgrown. And where I go from there...

~ Connor

List No. 2 ~ Rationale


I'm having a tough time, so this rationale will be more succinct.
Obviously this follows the same premise as the 5 states to visit... which choices are both rich and encompassing.
Admittedly, I am making these calls only semi-informed. Nations vary so much in cultural makeup that I have only a tentative understanding of most.

Argentina: A choice I know something of but not a great deal. Argentina seems so deep and sad. So windswept and driven. The boulevards of Buenos Aires and the sweeping green desolation of the Pampas. Ah...
Cuba: The fact that I don't smoke does not mean I do not like the smell of cigars. The fact that communism has failed does not quench or diminish my fascination with Cuba. Most of all, I've seen photos of bleached colonial buildings and have heard the languid trumpets... when I've can say I've heard jazz in Chicago, New Orleans, and Havana, then I will have something to talk about.
Mexico: My one experience with Mexico was an afternoon in Tijuana. It was bleak and discouraging. Having seen, however, the vibrancy of the murals and street music in Pilsen, Chicago, and read the legends of the Aztecs, this seems a place of blinding color.
Peru: Almost an all-out tie with Brazil. Brazil has many things that Peru does not: Rio de Janeiro, Sao Paulo, the Amazon Basin and some of the least explored parts of the world. But Peru has two things that Brazil does not: the Andes and the remnants of the Inca, one of the civilizations with which I am most fascinated.
United States: It is home. Rich. Desperate. Kind. Reckless. Young. Contradictory.

Greece: A no-brainer. Half of our institutions come from this place. What has Locke suggested that can't be summed up in Athens, or Marx in Sparta?
Ireland: My great-grandfather's home. So chill and drizzly and warm and cozy. I almost felt as though I could live here.
Italy: Same argument as Greece, though they're completely different. As a Catholic, this would be hard to pass up. And I love Italian architecture.
Romania: I spent a summer here. Shall I sum up? Cacophanous frustration. I love Romanians, and Hungarians, and Germans, and Turks, and Roma. It's too bad they all hate each other. They share one of the most beautiful lands in the world.
Russia: I knew I had to include one of the "old powers" on here... France, England, Germany or Russia. I think, however, because of it's century-long experiment with communism, and its current troubled state, Russia has had a much more complete "tragic arc." In terms of age and experience, I think, it is one of the wisest nations in the world.

Egypt: Like an old grandmother that sits in the corner, telling the most magnificent stories. That's the stereotype, at least, and there's something to it. On the other hand, Cairo and Alexandria are modern, active powerful cities. This nation has a strong sense of themselves.
Morocco: If Andalucia is Europe infused with Africa, is Morocco Africa infused with Andalucia? Maybe it just seems that way to me...
Nigeria: Admittedly, I know little of Nigeria except for its great diversity and musical traditions. However, Nigerians I have met have talked about it as Texans describe Texas. I am intrigued, in spite of myself.
South Africa: My goodness! This has to be a no-brainer. One of the most spectacular but troubled, galvanizing and important parts of the world. Why? Because the way South Africa addresses its problems shapes their dimensions and provides us with a vocabulary.
Tanzania: Similar to my knowledge of Nigeria. It's a vast and wild country. And Zanzibar is a cool name for a city. I admit, my reasons here a very superficial, and if I knew more, I might choose Kenya.

Cambodia: Partly a genuine curiosity about how a nation steps from a murderous regime directly into full-blown tourism. But whatever. I want to see the jungle. That, and while Buddhism was born in India, here it took root, and flourished.
China: Oh, China China China China China. How could I make a list like this and not include China? You leave me breathless in awe.
India: Oh, India India India India India. How could I make a list like this and not include India? You leave me shaking with excitement.
Israel and Palestine: This tiny, dusty, semiarid land is sacred to more than half of the humans on the planet today. It is sad that it has become what it has become, but keep in mind, it has always been that way. I do not believe that great movements are born of ease, but rather that ease and the desire for ease corrupts great movements. I have to go. I have to see where it all happened.
Japan: Friends who have taken on Japan have become almost cultish about it. To me, it seems oddly familiar, considering how alien so much of the culture is to my experience. But I'm just talking. I don't know.

Antarctica: Humans are fine, but this is the only place in which to really take a break from humans. In any meaningful way. You can see further into space here than anywhere else in the world. Given the cold and isolation, how perfect.
Indonesia: I know little about Indonesia, but the images I have seen, the dancers and statues, the jade and ruins are so powerful, I cannot keep my mind away.
Micronesia: Again, we have isolation. But, then, we have the silence broken by the sound of the ocean, almost everywhere you could go among these tiny islands. My heart too has a place for tropical paradise.
New Zealand: Actually, it has nothing to do with the Lord of the Rings. Cultures collided here, among breathtaking surroundings, with limited recourse to outside powers. And it's so far south.
the Phillipines: Given much as is my answer for Nigeria. I know very little about the Phillipines, but I've known several Filipinos, and the energy with which they engage their homeland... I am drawn to an island culture that is so diverse...

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Spring Cleaning: List #2


Post your own answers, or leave them as comments...

Assume that, in your life, you can visit 5 countries in each of the following Areas: the Americas (inc. Caribbean), Europe (inc. Caucasus), Africa, Asia, and Oceania (Antarctica counts).
You have reasonable time and a reasonable budget.
Safety and comfort are not an issue.
It doesn't matter if you've lived there or visited before.

Which 5 nations would you visit?

Here are my answers:

~ Argentina
~ Cuba
~ Mexico
~ Peru
~ United States
Close runner-up: Brazil

~ Greece
~ Ireland
~ Italy
~ Romania
~ Russia
Close runners-up: Bosnia-Herzegovina, Georgia, Germany, Finland, Poland

~ Egypt
~ Morocco
~ Nigeria
~ South Africa
~ Tanzania
Close runner-up: Kenya

~ Cambodia
~ China
~ India
~ Israel and Palestine
~ Japan
Close runner-up: Bangladesh, Iraq, Kyrgyzstan

~ Antarctica
~ Indonesia
~ Micronesia
~ New Zealand
~ the Phillipines

And you?

In the Beginning of April


or rather the end of March,
I changed my work schedule
and began leaving Monday through Thursday
at around 5:30,
and left on Fridays at noon.

On Thursday evening,
I took the El north to Berwyn
and walked in mist falling from the purple skies
to Kopi Cafè,
read and wrote my novel,
sipping soup and chewing through the seven-grain bread
and cups and cups of coffee dispensed by
my smiling waitress.

Then I walked south,
in what had become a drizzle
through Andersonville,
through Uptown,
where I bought a White Sox cap,
through Wrigleyville and Lakeview,
and I stopped awhile at the Borders on Diversey
and read.
And drank coffee.

Then I walked south,
through Lincoln Park
and the Carl Sandberg Village,
always on Clark Street.
My shoes caused friction against my heel
and gave me a dime-sized blister
as I walked through the Cathedral District
and River North,
the Loop, the South Loop,
Dearborn Park and the Near South Side,
and Chinatown.

I turned from Clark and walked southwest along Archer
stopping at a gas station
for Dr. Pepper
and sour gummy worms.
I walked southwest through Bridgeport,
and the drizzle became heavy rain,
soaking me,
but I crossed through McKinley Park,
and was home.

The next day at work was over almost before it began.
I went to the Borders and read and drank coffee until five, and went home.
I was home an hour before traveling to Lawrence Fisheries and eating catfish and drinking pop while I worked on writing and my map.
Saturday, I do not remember well, for some reason.
But Sunday I went to church at St. Maurice, then bought a Sun Times and ate a lunch at the Archview, then went home and cleaned my apartment all day long.

This was during Spring Break at the U of C, so all my friends were gone, and I could not speak to them.

~ Connor

Spring Cleaning: List No. 1 ~ Rationale, Part 2


My assumption with this list of five runs somewhat counter to the assumption for the other list.

While every place offers something worthwhile, some places offer a perspective, a landscape, or a lifestyle so rich, so at odds, so introspective, that its experience is profound. I was looking for these places... essentially places I couldn't possibly live without, when I tried to come up with the 5 states I'd visit no matter what.

To understand America, I have to understand the mountain states.
The focus of Colorado is Denver, which is a dynamic and cosmopolitan city with a boom/bust history. To its east stretches the furthest reaches of the great plains, with huge consolidated farms and tiny specks of town. To the west lies the Rocky Mountains with its crags and valleys, mines, and whatnot. This place is choked with atmosphere. I could live a whole life here and never get to the bottom.

To understand America I have to understand the East.
New York state, with the Adirondacks and Niagara Falls is gorgeous to drive through.
But in spite of a healthy midwestern bias (it's "pop," dammit), I chose this state because of New York City.
I'm not basing this on New York's population or national importance... I have never (and will never) consider the Big Apple to be "the capital of the world."
I think that Chicago is a much more qintessential "big city." It has a center and everything proceeds logically from there.
I think that L.A. is a city of the imagination, of humanity persuading the elements to create a landscape of curves and warmth in an environment of luster and convenience.
New York, however, is such a precise experience, in its subjection of rock and granite, in its victimization by channels and islands, in its need to develop a specific vocabulary, as a "burroughed" city, as the largest city in the country, as an important port, and all the other stuff. I don't think you can understand America without tacking what is New York and specifically New York.
Yes, they're home to the Yankees, but at least they're home to the Mets.

To understand America I have to understand the west coast... the edge of the world.
Areas that have been continuously prosperous are not of interest to me.
In some ways, the life in Washington is "the good life," especially along the coast and Puget Sound... with all the trappings of general economic success, a vibrant and diverse cultural life, and beautiful scenic splendor. But Seattle has always been boom-or-bust. It's best known for strong coffee a kind of music called grunge and its favorite son blew his brains out. Meanwhile, it rains 300 some days of the year, and more serial killers hail form these demented parts than anywhere else.

To understand America I have to understand the South.
Yes, I understand that reliving the past or hinging your identity on a past is dangerous.
But in Louisiana, it seems, the past would be lived and relived with such passion and vitality that it exceed the degree to which the rest of the country lives the present and future.
Parades, binges, fat jazz, dark nights on bayous. Plantation legends and voodoo... this is a place less like America than maybe anywhere else in America, and to such an extend that typical political division or historical arguments seem to be skewed and twisted, and to take on new meaning.
So Louisiana, and maybe those infested cities in particular, may be rotting and hurting and aged aged, but damn, if it isn't a party all the way.

Being who I am, this call is easy.
I would like to argue, however, that as a more objective person, I would have still chosen Michigan.
My argument is as follows... to understand the U.S. I would have to, *have to* understand the Midwest. I might even argue (though this is unquestionably biased) that the Midwest is the most "American" part of america, simply because the sensibilities and priorities in this part of the world represent the mean and median of American culture... that we have more in common with the rest of the country than they have in common with each other.
Whatever... make of that what you will.
In the midwest, I would immediately discard Indiana, and soon Wisconsin and Minnesota would follow. They are too small and too isolated an experience to be the sole midwestern state I would select.
That leaves me with Illinois, Michigan, and Ohio.
My Ohio argument hinges solely on Chicago, which, while it might not be as educational as NYC, I certainly love much much more. Chicago is the urban model of a big city... it is direct and streamlined and logical, and nevertheless, there is so much to see and examine here. It's dizzying.
The rest of Illinois is like the west branch of Indiana.
But, while I do believe that a big city experience is essential to knowing America, I do not know that two are. I do not believe that Chicago itself is essential in this regard. And given the weakness of the rest of the state by my measures, I would set Illinois aside.
That leaves Ohio and Michigan.
Ohio is more intimate and more closely tied together. Cincinatti, Columbus, and Cleveland are all galvanizing metropoli with complicated histories and beautiful vistas. But I tend to think that what Ohio offers by way of exploration, of discovery, Michigan offers just a bit more extremely. Cleveland is bested by Detroit. Lansing and Grand Rapids do not by any means measure up to Columbus and Cincinatti. On the other hand, I cannot find anything in Ohio that suggests what the thumb of Michigan or Saginaw do. Nothing equates to the hunter-friendly auto-financed lake culture of the north, or the weird abandoned mining towns of the Yoopers. The cliffs and the mountains far north, and the northern lights.
So in the most objective evaluation I can give, Michigan still edges out Ohio, but only by a sliver.

You might have figured from my comments that I am not interested in the least in heaven on earth.
I want to see, to experience, and to surround myself with the struggle and battle and vindication of life. I want to see people in the thick of it, wrestling with questions in their gut and in their minds. If it's in a beautiful forest, or a rusted out industrial complex does not matter.
Give me questions questions questions!

And there you have it: Colorado, New York, Washington, Louisiana, and Michigan. In about that order.

~ Connor

Spring Cleaning: List No. 1 ~ Rationale, Part 1


How I arrived at my answers.

The 5 states I'd neglect.

My answers here were informed primarily by one encompassing assumption, that I have seen to be true in my experience: every place has something interesting, worthwhile, and worth seeing. No place is devoid of interest.

My answers, then, evolved around an evolution of that thought. Namely, what choices will enable me to miss out on the *least*.

Many of my friends, for example, chose entirely planes states. Some lists included: North Dakota, South Dakota, Oklahoma, Nebraska, and/or Kansas. Why? Because they feature low populations, few or no major cities, a flat, featureless terrain, an agrarian economy, and a rural mindset. Which is true. But something can be learned from that... something is interesting.

I chose Kansas and North Dakota. Why?
South Dakota, being the site of natural wonders, specifically the Black Hills and Badlands, and some of the most amazing karst landscape in the US is right off this list. Desolation is amazingly compelling. It's close to sci-fi and/or the future.
I didn't want to cut Oklahoma because of the richness of its native American culture (being the last great swath of reservation be "given" away).
And I have an interest in Nebraska, if only for Chimney Rock and Omaha, the meat-packing center of the country.
That said, most of what is interesting about Kansas can be observed in Nebraska or Oklahoma. Most of what is interesting about North Dakota can be found in its neighbors. So they're on the list.
Kansas, you offer dinosaur bones, moon rocks, award winning elderberry wine, great works of art, and the perfect fishing hole. I'm sorry.
North Dakota, as much as I appreciate Lewis and Clark, Sakakawea, George Custer, Sitting Bull and Theodore Roosevelt, it was never meant to be.

All of the westward states offer something remarkable I did not want to pass up.

California, Hawaii, Alaska, and Wyoming are hopefully obvious.
Idaho and Montana have amazing state parks.
Washington and Oregon are culturally compelling, as sort of a distortion-driven drizzly interpretation of East Coast hippies, and I've always wanted to see North America's temperate rain forest.
Utah is home of the Church of LDS, which I've always been intrigued by, having many members among my friends and family.
Denver is just the coolest city ever, and Colorado the most diverse state ever, geographically.
Arizona and New Mexico are both scenically spectacular, but I'm also intrigued by the Mexican American and Southwest Native culture.
And Texas... I have a morbid fascination with Texas, and Albany in particular... or is it Austin? Whatever.

Yes, I am messing with Texas.
Why, simply because I am told not to.

Progressing east, then, the next state to make the neglect list is Indiana, cut for the same reasons as North Dakota and Kansas. Illinois is similar, but with Chicago. Indianapolis is alright, I suppose, but is outdone a few hours east by Columbus, Ohio. Michigan is much more diverse, geographically, culturally, economically, and historically. Northwest Indiana, with its tragic relationship to steel is interesting, but not interesting enough to make the state one of the lucky 45. Indiana is truly the crossroads of America; people cross on their way elsewhere.
Indiana, Hoosiers, goodbye.

The whole south galvinizes me.
As does the rest of the midwest and New England.
But I have two states left.

What is interesting about New Hampshire can generally be found in Vermont, Libertarians notwithstanding.
Connecticut? I would like to see New Haven, but not more than the shores of South Carolina or Mammoth Caves in Kentucky, the only real competition.

So that is why I chose not to visit those five states.

Monday, April 26, 2004

Spring Cleaning: Busy Month


A lot has happened this month, and I'm at odds figuring how to talk about it all.

I feel like this has been a year of reconnection to priorities.
I tend to be a generalist... I know a little about most things and a lot about very little. I want to learn about everything, write about everything, be everywhere.
I have realized later than most the paramount unfeasibility of the "everything" theory.

Theater or prose? They both are demanding. They both are difficult. Time to choose.
Time to stop "absorbing" Chicago and find the part of this planet that is the most compelling and beautiful.
Time to stop "absorbing" life as it passes and begin grasping and striving again for what I want so very much.

It sounds like a simple pep talk. The concept is simple, but not particularly peppy. Choices are difficult. Many dear things must be given up. Oh well. So it goes.

But it's April.

One of my very favorite months of the year.

This month I've been reconnecting to priorities, but it's happened a little different than usual.

I've seen two close friends, Hallie and Paul, for a week, when they came to stay with me in Chicago. We drank tea and coffee and wrote and worked and talked and talked.
But I haven't heard much (or written much to) Sam or Elisabeth. They're busy preparing for graduation, and I envy the excitement of this time for them.

I've visited my family twice, first for Easter Sunday, and second, to attend my sister's recital in Cleveland. She played with ease and beauty. I met her friends and roomate. I had time to visit the Perkins-Harbinses, leave a note by the Crawfords, and even get harassed at the Atlas.
But I haven't seen much of Jessica, and we're at a point, I think, at which I need her thoughts, her words, and her contact to complete my own.

Scavenger Hunt.
Chicago Project No. 2.
My time is being devoured.

I have ridden and driven thousands of miles, worked long weeks without much natural sunlight to speak of, and have been more sleep deprived than at any time I can remember in the last four years.

It's been a sort of month that's like waking up in the middle of the night, and worrying, intensely, about the health of your liver or lungs or heart for hours, before you relize you can't do much about it anyway. And there's more I want to say about this, but I think maybe I should wait and try to say it later.
Because I hate feeling that I'm trite, and right now, the best I can do is try to continue to feel some kind of special, mossy, dark isolation that leads to pondering long questions.
It sounds like the Cardigan's cover of Ironman.

Maybe you should listen to that.

More later,


Spring Cleaning: List #1


Post your own answers, or leave them as comments...

Assume that, in your life, you can visit 45 states of the US with reasonable time and a reasonable budget... just for fun.
This includes states you've been to; it doesn't matter if you've lived there or visited before.

Which 5 states would you leave off?

Now, a much harder question. You can only visit 5 in your entire life. Which 5 states would you be sure to visit?

My answers are below.

If I could visit 45, I would neglect:
~ Connecticut
~ Indiana
~ Kansas
~ New Hampshire
~ North Dakota

If I could only visit 5, I would choose:
~ Colorado
~ Louisiana
~ Michigan
~ New York
~ Washington

10 Days and Counting...

CONCEPT get yourself to Chicago.



Wednesday, April 21, 2004

14 Days and Counting...

CONCEPT get yourself to Chicago.



Tuesday, April 20, 2004



I added links for the Second and Third Families of my creative work.
I also addred links to blogs of Helen and Velvy, and updated my links to Liz and Paul.
This is all upon the sidebar.
Check it out! :)

~ Connor

The Surrounding Storm


I grumble a lot about my job.
In truth, there are things I like about it and dislike about it.
I like the office staff. I don't like working for six months on a temporary basis. I like free coffee. I don't like working without windows.

I don't like working without windows.

A storm can sneak up on you, surround you for hours... you never even notice, tucked into an alcove on the 20th floor with nothing but walls and cabinets and medical files around you.

This happened to me today.

I was going downstairs to buy some coffee (because the free coffee has been soapy lately), and I noticed that the buildings and pavement were a dark gray. The sky was darker than I expected. I strained hard at the ground, and I saw a downpour. Mist drifted upon the sidewalk. People carried umbrellas or ran. Evidently, it had been raining for hours.

When I wake up in the morning, and the radio is on, they talk loud and harsh to wake the listeners up. This is what I hear. But I don't really listen, because I'm running around getting ready to leave.
But really... they're talking.

You tend to notice catastrophes.
I remember September 11th, of course... vividly. So many probably experienced that day with the same confusion as me, and now we're all sick of hearing it recounted for the one millionth time.
I remember the first day of our invasion of Iraq as well. I marched in downtown Chicago, in protest, on a chilly Spring night, with police advancing on the crowd in street sweepers. They forced us over the Michigan avenue bridge and under the El tracks.

There were helicopters.

But now. All around me there are allegations and books... the trickle of dissent in Iraq has erupted into riots... there is slaughter now... back home, the Bush administration is hacking their way through a campaign in which it's unclear whether they are in a desperate struggle to survive, or are already victorious, striking out of pure visciousness. The "war on terror" and the "war" and the "peace" and the whole mess of it is playing out, but just like in any great tragedy there are subplots... the abortion conflict is heightened. The church vs. state issue is brought to the fore. Gay marriage erupts into the most clamorous debating that issue has seen yet.

Surruonded by all this noise, all these politics, I suddenly realize that I am in the midst of a storm.

All those things I wondered about, as a politically minded teenager... all those issues are held in tension right now.

And I feel like I've been shut up in an office the whole time.

That I just stepped out for a moment, and opened a door, and noticed the furious pounding just outside.

~ Connor

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

I do! I do!


I do have things to write.

But I am feeling sick of writing write now, and so I will write no more.

When I do, however, I will write about the frustration and the fun of the last several weeks.
How Paul and Hallie came and stayed with me for a week, independently but simultaneously.
How I've started a new schedule at work that is both exhausting and rewarding.
How I'm really getting fed up with this stupid tempwork and am trying to take new steps in my career.
How Jessica and I went to Flint for Easter and my dad's birthday.
How I'm going to Flint this weekend, and to attend my sister's recital in Cleveland.
How I'm generally homesick, but enjoying where I am. How I'm planning for this summer, but don't know what it will be. How I'm very excited, and also exhausted.

In other words... more of the same.

Coming soon,


Wednesday, April 07, 2004

Grumpy News: I Need a Better Job.


In short, I had an expectation that my temporary position would soon be a full-time position.
This is not the case.
If you have any suggestions or prospects for this energetic, articulate, and versatile young soul, by all means, write me at

~ Connor



Yes, the next several entries are blatantly self-indulgent.

To make them less so, you should take some of the quizzes yourself, and tell me how they turn out. :)

~ Connor

What is my Ideal City?


They said NYC, but I think we all know that's not the case.
I opt for Seattle or New Orleans.
Here's what they say about them:


Sleepless in Seattle? We don't think so. You may be laidback but that doesn't mean you're lacking in energy. Someone as adventurous and active as you is the perfect pairing with a city that's filled with fresh air, beautiful waterfront, snow-capped mountains, and plenty to do.

Whether you're hiking, skiing, or biking, you lead the way to new heights and lots of fun. And what better place to reach new heights of fun than in your signature city? How about from the top of the Space Needle or Mt. Rainier? You can quench your need for speed in the Great Outdoors, check out a jazz club or a museum, and wash it all down with a fresh cup of java at one of the city's countless cafés — all in one day. Now that's something we can all toast to!"

"New Orleans

You've got a "big easy" way about you and an infectious energy that's impossible to ignore. No wonder people love being around you. Like your signature city, you've got a finger on the pulse of just about anything — from music, to history, to food, to culture.

You welcome new ideas like New Orleans welcomes all walks of life. You know how to have a good time as well as mix and mingle with new people. After all, what good are a great meal and an even better band if you're living in your own little world? But being the people-person that you are, you probably can't wait to share the good times and stories with friends and family who'd love to be there walking down Bourbon Street, cruising the French Quarter, or drinking a tall, cool beverage at a street-side café."

What Vampiric Clan am I?


You aren't sure where you came from. Perhaps your sire did an embrace and run. Or maybe your sire was an outcast himself. Either way, your powers are unique and really don't belong to any clan...or maybe a little from each. Because you of these circumstances, you aren't really sure where you belong. You tend to wander and do a bit of soul searching in your eternal life. Maybe some have a while after all.

What Vampire Clan Do You Belong To?

What country am I?


This one was tough, because the first question was a 'yes' or 'no,' 'do you have a high quality of life?' question, which I frankly think is so relative that it could go either way.
When I answered 'no,' I ended up with Swaizeland.
When I answered 'yes,' I was Ireland.

You're Swaziland!

Small but sturdy, you've maintained your identity in a world where no
one takes you seriously.  You refuse to be absorbed into any larger social group or
category, no matter how influential they seem to be.  This gives you an individual
flair that captivates the very few who know you.  Machine guns make you really

the Country Quiz at the href="">Blue Pyramid

You're Ireland!

Mystical and rain-soaked, you remain mysterious to many people, and this
makes you intriguing.  You also like a good night at the pub, though many are just as
worried that you will blow up the pub as drink your beverage of choice.  You're good
with words, remarkably lucky, and know and enjoy at least fifteen ways of eating a potato.
 You really don't like snakes.

Take the Country Quiz at
the Blue Pyramid

What Book Am I?


You're Ulysses!

by James Joyce

Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared
to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do
understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once
brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in
the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you
additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

My Color


Is evidently Deep Pink.

Monday, April 05, 2004

April Fools


Dear Friends,

Of course I didn't break up with Jessica!
It was all an April Fools ploy, but I'm surprised how many people actually fell for it.

For future reference, you may find the following observations useful when determining whether or not I'm pulling your leg.

1. I am typically the dumpee. Not the dumper.
Statistically, this has been true about 80% of the time. So any claim that I have "broken up" with someone should be viewed with skepticism.

2. I am typically gloomy and morose after a breakup.
I probably would not send out glib mass-email about "only being young once." Rather, I would lay around my apartment in my black pajamas, listening to Tori Amos and Michael Stipe, making low moaning sounds to myself, weeping tender tears, and opening all the windows so my room might be as cold as my sad and neglected soul.

3. I would not date Jessica Simpson.
Nor would she probably date me. Let's face it: we're not made for each other. I think she's got weird lips and eyebrows, and she hates it when I ramble on the music industry cracking down on students who download free music. That, and she's married.

Bear in mind these three observations, and you shall not be led astray...

~ Connor

Thursday, April 01, 2004

I broke up with Jessica...


Dear Friends,

I'm writing to tell you about a relatively big development in my life lately.
I broke up with Jessica.
I know, we've been going out for four years, but hey, you're only young once.
I hope that doesn't sound callous.

Anyway, there is a new Jessica in my life, and she is wonderful!
If you want to see what she looks like, I posted a picture here:

Yours truly,