So this person got around to doing it before me.
Check out the poem at the end of the page. Especially nice.

Sometimes when I am in the shower or changing my oil or making pancakes, I think about how great things would be if I were a 30 ft tall robot.

But who doesn't?

I hope everyone is well,
Peace,

Joe "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings." Chandler

This is Roy's Largest Root.

Yeah, it sounded like a punk band to me, too.

::Fresh from their tour of Europe, Scandinavia and the Subcontinent, it's ROY'S LARGEST ROOT!!!::

The name of their first album could be "No Spericity, No Worries."

Saturday (before learning about Roy's Largest Root) I was in the elevator at the library. I stopped at floor three and another guy got in. We nodded at each other using the guy nod of greetings. After a few seconds he said, "Its a damn shame to be inside on a day like today." He was right. It was indeed a beautiful day. I responded with a hearty "Yep." The elevator stopped and he got out. We nodded the guy nod of farewell.

About an hour and a half later I got back on the elevator. Again it stopped at floor three and again the nice guy who seemed to appreciate a nice day got on. He looked at me and said, "So we meet again" like he was my cartoon nemesis. Well this presented a problem to tired Joe. The comment before was positive, harmless, and a perfectly acceptable piece of small talk. But this was different. For a Chandler, any comment that brings to mind a cartoonish situation is responded to in a cartoonish way. I was tired enough that my automatic reaction almost slipped through. In my best imitation of a booming super-hero, I started to say, "YES, FOUL VILLAIN. AND NOT A MOMENT TOO SOON!" Instead I caught myself around FOUL VILLAIN, resulting in my response being "YES foul vill," with my voice trailing off with each progressing syllable. He looked at me for a moment. I shifted my feet. Then the elevator door mercifully announced "Floor One, going up" in its disturbingly disembodied female voice. We got off and went our separate ways, only to meet again on the dark streets of Gotham.

But it really was a very pretty day.

I hope everyone is well,
Peace,

Joe "stats can be fun, foul villain!." Chandler

Three things today.

Number One, I think all people should take this advice.

Number two, this seems to have happened.

Number three, my stats exam today might have stolen my brain. Probably for ever.

I hope everyone is well.
Peace,
Joe

Through a recent conversation with Jenn, I have acquired the knowledge that imagining a friend or family members' face in a cloud formation can be quite alarming.

You know when you look up on a nice day and see a turtle or an ice-cream cone "in the clouds" ?

Well don't try that with someone's face.

Also, I apparently could not be a French Waiter. I tried to imagine myself as such (the reason is far too complicated to tell here) and all I came up with was a Gondola Man.
They live in Italy, and Las Vegas. Not France.

And that leads to the logical question: When is the semester over, Joe? When will you be finished with all of your school work?
The answer: NEVER***

I hope everyone is well, and no one's face is in the clouds.
Peace,
Joe

*** = May 5th.

WHOA.

Blogger is being odd.
Today alone, posts have disappeared, the Buddha went away, and Blogger asked me to buy it some alcohol.

Blogger is underage, you know.

I hope this resolves itself soon. Not sure what real impact it has on me other than the fact that I've had so much coffee it seems to matter.

I hope everyone is well.

Peace,

(COFFEE)

Joe

Please excuse all the bitching that seems to have infiltrated my personality lately. Today, after a bunch of good news yesterday and some good conversation with family and friends, I have realized that I AM GETTING PAID TO GO TO SCHOOL. I AM LIVING WITH MY YOUNGER BROTHER. I AM DATING A WOMAN OF MANY WONDERFUL QUALITIES. I HAVE A 20th ANNIVERSARY OPTIMUS PRIME. I HAVE FRIENDS AND FAMILY THAT ALL COULD BE VERY SUCCESSFUL AS WRITERS FOR CONNAN O'BRIEN. I HAVE... a whole bunch of nice things. Before this becomes a "feel good" fest, look at this. That ought to throw you off for a moment.
Keeping in the trend of writing about peeps, I have a story. The other day I purchased a bunch of yellow Peep Bunnies on post-Easter sale from Target. I have eaten many, and two nights ago I had a thought:

"Marshmallows are good warm. Peeps are made of Marshmallows. I will heat and eat the bunnies."

And so, I did. I put two Peep Bunnies on a plate in the microwave and commenced with the heating. "10 seconds should be good" I thought outloud. So I went to the fridge to get some water to have with my peeps, and just as I was picking up the pitcher, I heard a sound like a muffled beat on a bass drum. I ran over to the microwave just in time to see my peeps at the brink of EXPLOSION. I stopped the microwave, but it was too late.

"I AM SO SORRY PEEP BUNNIES!!!" I said outloud.

When I opened the microwave, there was peep everywhere. The only intact piece was the head of one of them, with the eyes so expanded by the heat that it looked like their last peep moments were spent in utter terror.

I still ate them, to pay them the respect the deserved. The back story is that earlier that day I had made rice in the microwave, setting it to its highest power. Here's a little equation for you:

HIGHEST POWER MICROWAVE + 10 seconds + Peep Bunnies = PEEPSPLOSION!

Keep that in mind next time you are craving the sugar on sugar goodness of a peep.

I hope everyone is well.
Peace,
Joe

So as 99.999% of the people who read this blog know, I am in graduate school. I am also new to graduate school. What most people don't know is that my advisor is also new to UA. This newness has come to the forefront in a recent dilemma: I am drowning in work. Yes, friends, I mean flailing around in a sea of research, seeing no end. This came about in an unfortunate combination of newness, specifically mine and Jamie's (my advisor).
You see, last semester wasn't all that hard. It was challenging, but I managed the first 4.0 of my life (yes, ever. The highest semester GPA I got in college was a 3.9, but no 4.0s until now). I was happy, and apparently overconfident. I brought my spring schedule to Jamie with the intent of taking three full time courses including an upper-level seminar. On top of that I thought I'd add some thesis hours and contemporary issues. I thought I could do it. Jamie thought so, too. But now I am learning the errors of my ways.
I brought a similar schedule to Fran and Dave yesterday to ask them about some classes. They looked at it like I was crazy. They basically told me that there was no need for me to take on that kind of load so early, and that it might impede progress on my thesis. I said that I was in the process of finishing up a semester pretty much just like that one. After telling me of my craziness they helped me whittle it down to something more manageable. Now that the last three weeks of this semester are upon us I can see why this is a good thing.

Whew. That sure was a lot of bitching. Sorry. But I had to get it out that my overzealousness for the fancy "book learning" may have finally caught up with me.

In other, much more important and much more happy news, I have been dating Jenn now for eleven months and not managed to run her off. Next month makes a year. Time has some very large and efficient wings.

I hope everyone is well, and is not drowning in research articles.
Peace,
Joe

I had forgotten what it was like to relax until these past few days. I have not read academic type things for at least 48 hours and do not plan on doing so for at least another 12. Take that, responsible reading! Instead I have spent my time doing non-school related things. I have been "sleeping in" (read, "waking up a few minutes after 8am") and reading for "pleasure" (read, "falling asleep after making it through 4 or 5 pages of a Michael Crichton book"). I have also been paying more attention to my dreams and random thoughts. SEGWAY... I had a dream about a face-eating sandwich last night.
I enjoy subway sandwiches. They come in so many different ways, all at your command. The "sandwich artists" deserve their title more than any other fast food moniker. But what happens when you mix a Veggie Delite with a face eating monster? CHAOS OF THE HIGHEST ORDER. In my dream Jenn and I went to subway. We ordered a Veggie Delite from the sandwich artist, who happened to be a duck. But this duck was quite tall and able to make a damn fine sandwich, or so I thought. When we sat to eat, the sandwich attacked Jenn. It started to eat her face. Well I took care of that in short order, karate chopping the fiend off of her face and into the trash (I am always a Ninja in my dreams. Its assumed). Well Jenn was unhurt, so we went up to the duck and asked why such a thing would happen. He just blinked at us (can ducks blink?) and gave us our money back. Then we got into my Black 1982 Volvo 242 GT Turbo with complete recording studio in the trunk and drove off, commenting that it must have been the peppers. They'll get you if you're not careful.
I have been in Nashville now for two days and will be heading to see Nickel Creek in Athens with some of my friends tomorrow. Should be a great time. I'm off to relax a bit more, and perhaps try to remove an ink stain from a sweatshirt using the Miracle we mere mortals call Goo Gone. That stuff will get anything off of anything. Probably even a rabid sandwich off of your face. I should keep it handy next time I have such a dream.
Now I am hungry.

I hope everyone is well
Peace,
Joe