V.I.P. Status

Wednesday, June 29, 2005, 10:00am :

"Hello.....?" "Sup diiiiiiiide?" "Sup, Cole. What....what's going on?" "Oh not much, I'm fuckin tired." "Yea. Me too. I just woke up." "Yea, my mom just called." "Sweet. Uh....so, yea. What's up?" "Oh, not much, you wanna do somethin today?" "Uhhh....sure, yea." "K, cool, well, I'm gonna go back to sleep, I'll be over at like noon or a little past." "Yea, sure Cole...sounds good."

So. Ok, now that we're past that, I get up, shower, blah blah blah. Cole and I are hanging out on the back deck, and asks me if I want to be on the VIP list for The City yesterday night. I say, sweet. I always wanted to hang out in the VIP lounge of a bar, get special treatment, free drinks, shit like that. We decide that we're going to go out in suits, and get all dressed up.

Fast forward through our uneventful, typical day with Cole to that evening. We decided not to wear suits. Just dress up. We met up with Heather and Jacki, who were cute. Actually, Heather's fuckin hot, reminds me a lot of Jordan, who randomly called me yesterday too, making meeting her even more odd. We head out to Hoo Song and Larry's where it's a complete meat market. Lotta hot girls, tons of douchbag meathead G guys, things like that, fun stuff. College kid's dream. After that, we decide it's time to head out to The City. Sweet. VIP time. So we show up, found our names on the list, got our VIP wristbands, and then made our way in, where apparently that night they were having casting for The Apprentice. Never really saw any evidence of that, but other than that, I assume it was there, and people were having a merry old time.

Anyway, listen, I'm gonna stop this story here. This isn't really about the narrative, I don't really care about what happened last night, much less wanna try to make it interesting typing it all out. What I really wanna get at here is that I spent the entire night at several clubs where all they played was hip hop and rap, fitty cent and all that crap, there are a bunch of meatheads fighting over all the hot bleach blondes that are going for the black guys that just rolled in cause they know the bouncer from when they all dealt drugs together, or still do, and so on and so forth. The whole night was like this, and we were never really VIP. That was the shit that really got to me. VIP there that night meant that we didn't have to pay a cover. Big fucking deal.

When I think VIP, here's what comes to mind. Cutting through the kitchen to a private lounge adjactent to the office of the owner of the club, velvet everything, champagne and cocaine everywhere, you and like 7 other people that really fucking matter in there, having a blast, knowing that this is what the club is really about. No one else knows that this room even exists to even know what they're missing, but people know when you walk into the rest of the club that you're just not to be fucked around with. That sorta thing. You don't talk about being VIP, people don't ask. The people who work there just know. If you need a drink, the bartenders drop what they're doing when they see you, and you don't pay them a thing. They just make it. Back in the back, you and the owner are doing lines off the hottest girl you've ever seen, and trying to be nice and pick who gets her first, only to have the owner tell you that you should do it, cause all he has to do is look at a girl and he's got a replacement. That's VIP. VIP doesn't involve an orange wristband. VIP doesn't involve seeing anyone else that's VIP with you outside of that room.

Not only that, but I had clubs. I hate them. They're absurd. I like the Ghost Bar. Go there, and that's my bar. I like it there. I like the Indigo District.

Well shit....

I got up this morning, promptly at 8am. I realized this was far too early, and went back to sleep.

I woke up again around 9:32. I realized that was an appropriate time, reached over, picked up my phone, sat up, and dialed the office of the registrar.

And spoke with a Shoopuff.

"Hawo, Office ov ze registchwaa."
"Hi there, I was calling to check on the results of a petition with the Academic Requirements Committee"
"What was yo name?"
"David Z***"
"Za-whaaat?"
"Z****. Z. As in Zebra."
"Aaaaah I sheee. Ahh yesh. Youa petitishun diduh gettapwoove"
"Excuse me, what did you say?"
"It diduh gettapwoove."
"Forgive me, but I'm having trouble hearing what you're saying. Did you say it didn't get approved?"
"I said it diduh gettapwoooove."
"Yea, I caught that. So yes, is was approved?"
"Yesh! I've been shaying that!"
"Alright, wonderful, listen, is there any way now that that's done, that you guys can print me out a letter of completion that I can come pick up today?"
"We'll be shending you a letter in ze next week or sho."
"Umm, ok, that's good, I appreciate that, but is there any way that I can get that statement as well?"
"You'll resheev a letter shortly."
"Ok, thanks, you've been a great help."
"Bye."

So then of course I hop in the shower, and cruise to Eugene, to the office of the registrar, where I meet with Tina Hammock, the head of the ARC. And I get a printout. Three, actually, of my statement of completion, which states that on Sept 3, 2005, I am fully qualified and due to recieve my diploma, BA in Psychology with a Minor in Business Admin.
So I call NOVA, to verify this would be ok.

Well, shit. Japanese Immigration requires either a completed transcript or my original diploma. Neither of which I will have until after Sept. 3. So, according to Takako, it looks like then I'm shooting to make the Oct. 26th departure, which I will barely make, if there's room, if I can get the paperwork in lightning fast.

So I called the registrar up after lunch, to ask about graduating earlier than the 3rd.
Guess who picks up?

So I'll be calling them back periodically to see if I can talk to someone who isn't this fucking annoying ass Asian woman who barely speaks intelligibly and refuses to be of help to me.
There's always something, isn't there?

My condolences...

So I was up in NW tonight, hangin out at the Crab Shack with the pals, and Nina and I went on the crazy most fun Taco Bell run ever...
And we get back, and we're eating, and Nina gets the phone call.
Her dad's dad just passed away.

It's one of those things where, you never quite know what's appropriate to say or do. You want to hug them, and talk to them, but there's a million things running through their head, so many things that have nothing to do with you, and that you couldn't possibly understand, much less help with. So you just kinda wing it, hope what you're doing is ok, offer them a ride back home, which I did.

But the poor girl is bawling, and all I could do was just be there. I suppose that's enough. I suppose that's all one can do, but I know she just wants to be alone with her family. I'll call her tomorrow and give her and her father my condolences, but like that's really gonna make a difference in their greiving.

All this time leading up to it, all I could think about was how I have to call in about the results of my petition tomorrow morning, how I wanted to go to bed early so I could wake up, and do whatever I needed to, whether it be prep to tell my parents the bad news or scramble to get the paperwork out to NOVA. That all seems so trivial now, like it really means nothing compared to life or death. I suppose that's what experiences like these are for, to remind us how little the things we worry about mean.
But what after that? It's not like realizing how little it means changes the fact that they're there, and still have to be accounted for. It's not like I can just say, "It doesn't matter if my petition was approved, because life could be over before you know it." So how does it all work in?

Death is one of those subjects I don't really talk about all that much. It's not that it's touchy or anything, it's actually quite the opposite, and that's why I don't like talking about it. It doesn't really bother me all that much. I dunno, I feel like people think they have to feel awful, or that they hold on too tightly to things and people in life, and can't let things go. People get so worked up, and I guess I just don't. I've never been emotional about death, it's terrible, I know, but it doesn't really phase me. That's why in situations like these I don't really know what to do; if I were them I wouldn't be freaking out.

It's part of my disturbing ability to just roll with the punches. When my grandfather died, it just kinda happened. I moved on. I didn't cry, I didn't grieve, I just kinda accepted it and moved on. It's like that any time I hear about someone's death. It makes me feel callous and cold, but, I'm really not, I'm just way too good at accepting reality in some areas.

Anyway....this is my interlude, another entry before the big one tomorrow with my results.

My condolences Nina, Mr. Levine. You know I'm here for you always.

Moment of Truth

Well, tomorrow is when I find out. Tomorrow is the meeting for the Academic Requirements Committee, where my fate will be decided. I've done my best this weekend to ignore that. I didn't really want to be constantly stressed out knowing this was coming, but here it is, nonetheless, and I realize that I will probably wake up tomorrow morning to a call from them letting me know their decision.

Or they'll need some clarification on something, or to laught at me and tell me I'm screwed, or something along those lines.
I'm really half expecting to either hear back that it was denied or not hear from them at all, and have to call them later on in the afternoon to ask if they had reached a decision yet. Hopefully the statement I got from Professor Arrow was adequate to convince them. Hopefully, seeing as I wrote the thing, and she pretty much just signed it.

It's an odd kind of tension though, because, though it is extremely important, and I should be really stressed out, in some ways I'm not, I'm glad, and happy to be this close to having a definitve answer and knowing where I stand one way or the other. If it works out, I'm done, that's it, no more college. If not, I'm screwed, but it's out in the open because it's not like I can lie about it any further after that point. Tomorrow is the last day this will ever weigh on my conscience, and for that I'm glad. I worked my tail off, and procrastinated my tail off dually to get to this point. What I head tomorrow is the product of something years in the making. Damn I make that sound epic.

But then again, it is. It's the single biggest event leading up to my departure there is.

So, Christy, wish me luck. I know that half my friends only want me to go because it's something I want, and I know you might be part of that group. But all the same, wish me luck. Do it. Right now. Outloud. Louder. Come on, it's a new place, you can be louder than that. At least you don't have to worry about shit stench wafting into your mouth if you open it too wide. Now we're talkin.




Oh, and I consolidated my college loans today and locked in a low interest rate before rates start going up on the 1st of July. Lucky me. $18k.

Cutting it close

Just so you all know how this is going to work out, here's my schedule for correcting the problem which with I have been presented, discussed in my previous entry:

Friday, June 17: Contact Registrar.
Collect information and paperwork for petition to the Academic Requirements Committee.
Contact Professor Arrow in regards to the letter of verification and support needed for the petition.
Meet with Professor Arrow.
Talk to Psych department secretary to have copy of my completed major requirements sent to petition committee head.
Talk to Business college secretary to have copy of my completed minor requirements sent to petition commitee head.

Thursday, June 23: Deadline by which I must:
Submit my petition form, complete with Personal Statement and letter of verification and support.

Monday, June 27: ARC meets and decides my fate.

Thursday, June 30: Date by which NOVA must have an official statement from the UO that I have completed everything neccessary to graduate.


So it's nothing that's really all that hard, I've already done everything for that first day. I just need to write the statement and the verification letter, and send it to Prof. Arrow to print on letterhead. Then I turn them both in, cross my fingers, and pray to God that He grants me what I seek.

This isn't an impossible feat. Just awkwardly timed, a little rushed, but overall, do-able. It's just, now, like before, I have one shot at something, and if it fails, I'm screwed. I pretty much have to make this happen. Go me.

I hate working well under pressure. Cause you tend to put yourself under pressure so you do better. It also means the risk of catastrophic failure is far greater.

If it's not one thing.....

So remember how I said I got that paper in, and crossed my fingers, and hoped for the best?

Well, he got the paper. And he changed my grade. To a C- no less, far better than I could have anticipated.

So then why is this still no cause for celebration?
Well it was, for about half a day, till I went back online and took a look at my degree audit.

  _______________________________________________________
        NO   SOCIAL SCIENCE GROUP REQUIREMENT
                                                              .
          16.00 CREDIT EARNED
   03W  BA   101       4.00 A-   Intro to Business
   01S  LING 290       4.00 C-   Intro Linguistic Analy
   00F  PSY  202       4.00 C    Mind and Society
   04S  REL  325       4.00 C-   Hist East Christianity

What????? What what WHAT?!

Oh....somehow for 16 terms of college I must have forgotten about this little side
 note:
GUIDELINES: All students must complete courses in
    Arts & Letters, Social Science, and Science. Each group
    must include:
       (1) 15 credits in approved group-satisfying courses
      >(2) At least two courses with the same subject code<
       (3) At least one course with a different subject code

Because I'm so fucking cool.  Somehow I lucked out and
happened to meet the science requirement alright.  But ugh.

So now I have to go and call the registrar tomorrow
and beg for them to graduate me despite my failure to meet the requirements.

It's like this with everything I do.  I get so caught up
 in getting things done when it's crunch time that some
little detail that somehow eluded me comes back to bite
 me in the ass a million times over.
Story of my life.  Nothing ever gets away without being
paid for.

Complacency

"There'll come a time when you just want to be left alone. Where you'll say, 'I've fought the good fight, I've chipped away at the wall, and now I just wanna sit on the porch and sip my manhattan."

Fuck that. Stick your well aged, refined complacency and your manhattan of the same description right up your ass.

How can you sit there and just let the world happen? This is my father I'm discussing, and it's not that he's really become apathetic, he votes like I do, and cares about issues, and feels for them but, as he puts it, "I'm not poor, I'm not sick, I don't have kids in school anymore, so basically, all the issues that once were of real significance to me are philosophical now." SO FUCKING WHAT?

He tells me, as he has a thousand times, that my passion to change things, that my refusal to accept the world around me and all its wrongdoings and irrationality is cause I'm young. There's always this twinge when someone in their later years says that, like it's somehow a bad thing. Like they're sick and tired of being asked to pitch in. I suppose maybe they have a right to be, but Christ, you're really going to make my passion for something out to be an inconvenience?

What is wrong with people, that those in office, those in control of our lives are the same age as the people telling me I need to stop bothering them and leave them alone. You morons, can't you see that 50 year old presidents don't care about the concerns of 22 year olds because 1) they apparently don't vote enough and 2) they clearly don't have their heads about them yet and 3) don't have the money to have their opinions matter.

And then somehow, by the time you're that age, and have enough money and security to be listened to, you are tired of being asked to make social change, and only vote on what concerns you directly. Like, I'm sick of paying taxes, I've paid taxes all my life. I'm not in school, I don't care what they cut. FUCK YOU.
I'm sick of complacency. I'm sick of a system that puts the responsibility for social change on the young, who the elderly in control have no interest in listening to or don't agree with, and burdening them with that weight until they're so sick of it that by the time they're at the age they could do something all the want is to sit on the back porch and sip manhattans. It's complete bullshit.

FUCK!@!!!! I hate that people have been so long entrenched in this system of doing things that they actually think it's appropriate. "Listen kid, you need time to get the feel of things, you need more experience, you need to be tempered. The reason society waits until you're a certain age to really listen to you is that you need time for the irrationality of youth to wear off and the serenity of age to set in." What the fuck is that? You're actually validating this? We need you to wait until you've basically stopped caring before we let you have a say in decisions that could actually change things. Until you're tired of life and the only thing you're afraid of is death, you're just going to have to sit here and watch the world disappoint you. Like Calvin's dad says, "It builds character."

Fuck that. Oh my God. I am so irate. I hate complacency.

Blast from the past

Well, not really one particular incident, but, I mean, in general, living here is. Even though I have all my belongings, most of them at least that I didn't throw away, it's still weird for me trying to synthesize my life down in Eugene with living in Tualatin. I get the distinct impression I will be spending a great deal of my time here in Portland. Tualatin has become really right wing, and maybe it's just that the Euge corrupted me or something, but, I kinda need to be around people that are...I dunno, not driving trucks, don't have like 3 kids at 24, like all the gay ass new rock I hear on the radio, that sorta thing. It's sad that I have such distaste for my hometown, this is certainly not the climate I grew up in. Or maybe it was, and I just wasn't attuned to it. Either way, still puts me in an awkward position.

Every time I go somewhere now, whether it be a bar or a grocery store or a restaurant, I get the distinct impression that I do not fit in. I'm pretty much the only 'city kid' I see around here. I wear black, but I'm not some goth kid, and I have piercings, but no tattoos. So when I go into the bars, I just feel like I'm alone. I feel like wherever I go I have either some perspective, or world view that is just completely foreign to these people. Like....they're all townies. Which they pretty much are. And if I haven't mentioned it before, I'll come back to this again and again. I hate townies. Anyone who's been here for 3 or 4 years since their last year of school is a townie. I.e. anyone who didn't go to college, or stopped, and moved back here and hasn't left again. I feel this mutual resentment between me and these people when I go places around here like, "I recognize you from before you/I left. You/I've grown, and seen the world, and have aspirations that go beyond tomorrow or the weekend. You/I know things and have learned things I/you haven't the faintest idea about and that means you/I just don't belong here. Go back to the city, kid/me."

I need to find the indy/emo crowd here in Portland, and find their bar, and start going there. I need my own private Indigo District. Either that or *gasp* I'm going to have to start making regular trips back down to Eugene, just to get my fix.

Oh, and anyway, the reason for the title is cause I went out with Jennee L tonight, and we played the name game, trying to name off people we went to high school. It's weird to have names flood back into your brain that you had forgotten, and smack yourself when you don't remember names you should. Made me think entirely too much about high school, and makes me feel weird thinking that I actually knew most everybody's name when I was there.
K, I'm done.

Announcing the official start of my summer

Alright, so, summer. Yeahp. Time to make some goals, that make no sense, and hope to accomplish them all. Feel free to amend as desired.

1) Create some kind of sculpture. The parts used may consist only of things found at the side of the road. Each part must be signed and dated all those present at their discovery. The sculpture is commissioned in the back yard at the end of the summer.

2) Visit the Zoo.

3) Have at least 3 parties. 2 of which must be here at my house. This will require much persuasion of my father.

4) Have my picture taken with nearly everyone I hang out with. Exceptions being people I barely know, don't like, or people with whom I hang out under duress or unavoidable circumstance.

5) Hang out at the Witchita Pub on random weeknights, and see how many townies I can run into I went to high school with. See how many names I can remember, and see who remembers mine. Ran into Ryan Fisk tonight, he called me Zach. One down, many to go.

6) Get laid. Lord, it's been too long. And by a hot girl. None of this, lower my standards to get laid, then raise them again crap. Resist David, resist. It's not worth it.

7) Construct a small craft that uses canned air to propel itself down the sidewalk, and videotape it.

8) Come up with better goals.

T-U-A-Latin

What's up y'all this is DJ Dave comin at you live in '0-5 from rockin TUALATIN, OREGON. That's right folks, after a 5 year hiatus, DJ Dave is back on a three month tour de force of the 97062, his teenage stomping grounds.

Prepare yourself for such mind blowing, exciting events as: Reminiscing. Working with his father down in Salem. Driving the family car. Concealing his smoking habit. Throwing away things he wants to keep, but realizes he'll soon have no use for.
Be there as he battles the University for ownership of his degree.
Marvel at the awesome stealth he dislpays while concealing his piercings from his understanding, but grossed out family.
You'll laugh when he forgets the names of people he went to high school with but hasn't seen in almost 6 years, and the remember his.
You'll cry when he opens the fridge, only to find that his parents are STILL on Atkins, and have NOTHING to eat but salame and Miller Lite (Less Filling). Well, the beer part's not that bad.

But most of all, you'll never forget the action packed rollercoaster ride that is, Summer '05: Return of the Second Son.

Coming Soon:
Japan '05-'06: A New Hope.
College Loans: The University Strikes Back

And look for these familiar titles:
Spring '04: The Phantom Diploma
MOC '03-'05: Attack of the Morons
and Spring '03: Revenge of the Frat


Welcome home, me. And who the hell is DJ Dave? Lose the nickname, jackass.

Finally finished

Due 6/2. Read Solovyov, The Meaning of Love (Coursepack) and answer the following questions: “What is Solovyov's understanding of erotic love between humans and its religious significance? What does erotic love have to do with Christian faith and the relationship between God and human beings? What do you think of Solovyov's views? What do you consider to be the strengths and weaknesses of his position? To what degree do you find his views compatible with the Christian tradition? Why or why not?”

Well, here I am. 6/1. Finished with my paper. And a day early at that.

What, you say? Why am I doing a paper? Didn't I already graduate? What's going on here?

Yea, you're right. The paper was due 6/2. One year ago tomorrow. I managed to get an incomplete in the class because of it, and he told me to have the paper in to him next week. And here I am, one year later, finally looking at the finished product, preparing myself to send it to my teacher in the hopes that he will change my incomplete to a D or a D minus, allowing me to obtain papers saying that I have, in fact, completed all the courses neccessary to graduate, so I can send it off to the NOVA Group and actually GET the job I landed teaching english in Japan.

It's bullshit, it's complete bullshit, that I got myself into this position. I didn't do the paper in the first place because I was lazy, despite loving the class, and then I slacked off on it for an entire year before finishing it, and now I have to beg my teacher to do me one last favor so I can move on with my life and do something productive with it. Not to mention avoid the complete and utter shame of having to explain to my friends and family that my job offer was retracted because I hadn't in fact actually graduated college yet.

I tried a couple of things to remedy the situation earlier, like sign up for an online class, and retook my business class I got a D in originally. I got a B+ in my business class, which is good, because that completed my minor requirements, but I never did anything at all for my online class, so instead of fixing my incomplete, I got a Y, no basis for grade, and owe the university money for having taken both classes, which I must pay out of pocket because I couldn't exactly ask my parents for the money.

So here I am, at the threshold of finally finishing what I started, a super senior all this time uknown to a great many people, and hoping for the best that despite eventually having to explain to people why my diploma says 2005 and not 2004, I will in fact have one at all.

Wish me luck. I don't deserve it, but, Lord knows I need it.