Because it's the Weekend:

Methinks had the final say on this one...sort of.

We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.
-C. Day Lewis

I can dig it.

Just when you think you have someone all figured out...
they go and take a bunch of personality tests.

ESTP - "Promotor". Action! When present, things begin to happen. Fiercely competitive. Entrepreneur. Often uses shock effect to get attention. Negotiator par excellence. 13% of the total population.

Take Free Myers-Briggs Personality Test

Conscious self	Overall self

Take Free Enneagram Test

The Big Five Personality Test

Extroverted	||||||||||||||||||	78%
Introverted	||||||	22%
Friendly	||||||||||||||||||	74%
Aggressive	||||||	26%
Orderly	||||||||||	38%
Disorderly	||||||||||||||||	62%
Relaxed	||||||||||||||||||	74%
Emotional	||||||	26%
Intellectual	||||||||||||||||||||	82%
Practical	||||	18%

Take Free Big 5 Personality Test

In'na Final Analysis

So would you say these are fairly accurate?

"Quick To Respond," they said of him.

Sorry Amy, all I could find was this.

But French is nice, I guess.

And welcome, Jaden and Methinks! Eh, I only had one clean glass so I just poured Mr. Pibb in with the hot fudge.

I am calling my concoction "Hey Mr!."

Let me know how it is.

So I guess I've broken my loose guideline of not linking to people I don't know personally.

"Should I start a blog/Live Journal?" she wondered.

I have been discussing blogging/Live Journal'ing lately, most notably with Dana.

It would seem that even the blog/LJ is still susceptible to that most-intriguing of questions:

Why?

But it's answered easily enough, I think.

To write.

There may be other reasons as well, but at it's core it is the desire to communicate, to make a thought into something more tangible, that can be expressed.

I like to write. Now more than ever.

When I started this blog, I would have to drag myself over to my laptop. I was averaging roughly a post a week.

I felt the way I have been hearing a lot of people say they feel about writing: "It's not good enough."

But I got better at it by writing more. It was the only way I knew to improve.

Because I had already tried getting better by not writing and met the same result as when I had tried to get stronger by not working out.

So write.

How do I write?

I write what I want to read. I write when I think of a joke and no one is around for me to tell it to. Do I write for an "audience"? Well, you should already know the answer to that...but it's not exactly a "Yes." I am aware that I have an "audience." I even know some of that audience. But I only wish I knew them well enough to write something they'd all enjoy. But I don't. So by default, I must entertain myself.
And I am easy to please.

Maybe that's why you aren't writing, eh? A writer has to spend time with themselves. Sometimes a lot of time. Sometimes too much time.

Why don't you want to spend time with yourself?

You're very interesting. And no offense, you might not even know it. (But trust me, that's the best kind. Like the hot girl that doesn't know she's hot.) I mean, I can never say for sure what you're going to do next.

So surprise me. Don't waste your mental energy worrying about what people like. Because no matter what you write, I assure you someone isn't going to like it. But then, that's really their problem, isn't it? And you'll never know exactly what your readers might like, so don't go too nuts over that, either.

So what have you been up to?

I'd love to hear about it.

And if you want much better advice, this Neil Gaiman cat seems to know what he's doing enough to write okay. He even said something today that I agree with:

You know, for most authors, that's the fun bit, the whole head filled with otherwise-useless facts bit.

When you write, everything in your head is useful. Everything you know, everything you've felt, is all in there waiting to be utilized for something. And what you don't know, you go and find out. Like when I was writing earlier about "To Kill A Mockingbird," I had to go to the Kansas State website to find out what people from Kansas might be called. I knew "Okies" from Oklahoma thanks to Steinbeck, but I found myself at a complete loss for Kansas natives. Now I know they can be called a lot of things, but I'll refer to them forever as "Jayhawks."

I've also learned that everyone can teach you something. So teach me. I'm listening.

And there are the fairly common times, like tonight, where you thought you were going to write something short about a completely different subject and then some kind of dam breaks and I don't know what exactly it was holding back but now everything's sticky and smells like chocolatey root-beer.

Now who wants to go out for strawberry milk-shakes?

I apologize for being presumptuous, if that is what I have been, in linking your website, blog, or live-journal. I have recently received a couple of requests to de-link people, which I have honored.

I must clarify that I set up my links based on my own personal web-navigation preferences, without taking into consideration that some people would prefer to remain on the down-low.

I wasn't trying to be an ass, I'm really just very, very, lazy.

And if you would prefer to have your name displayed differently (i.e., no full last name, spelled phonetically, in a different language) so that people searching for you will not be led to this site, please let me know.

If there is anything else you would like, a soda maybe, just ask.

I won't guarantee I'll come through, but it seldom hurts to ask.

Today was a good day for e-mails.

I got one from my sister in Mexico. I miss her a lot. But at least I know she's having a good time in typical Lopez fashion. (Let's just say that Corona's and Dos XX's aren't exactly hard to come by down there.)

I also got a letter from Marie, who I met last Spring Break. (I mention her at the very end of the post.) It should be needless to say that I was a bit excited.

And something I had found at Neil Gaiman's site that I had completely forgotten about:

Guillermo Lopez wrote:

The best bunny name ever was the brainchild of both
myself, (Guillermo Lopez) and Lauren Chapman. After
arguing fervently for several hours, we agreed to name
our bunny Mr. Nubbins.

I enjoy the service you provide immensely, and I shall
assist you in ferreting out those who misuse it.

And so when I opened up this:

Guillermo,

I'd have to agree, it's a great name. I've added the bunny ID (BID):

Mr. Nubbins

Cheers,

Murray

I was quite pleased. My intention when writing had been to immortalize Mr. Nubbins, the ill-fated fraternity bunny that Lauren Chapman and I rescued from campus on ASU.

Now there was a bunny who couldn't catch a break.

While in the fraternity, he had been smoked out, boozed up, had his leg broken, and undoubtedly had been subjected to being called something lame like "Rabbit-Dude."

I won't bore you with the details of how Lauren and I infiltrated the fraternity and then seduced and pummelled (respectively) Mr. Nubbins' way to freedom.

My old roommate, Phill, was a bit surprised to come home and find a bunny living in a make-shift pen in the kitchen of our apartment.

But Mr. Nubbins, with a combination of his wacky, up-beat view of life and his breed-or-die philosophy, fit right in with us and Phill knew it.

Now there was a rabbit that could hit a beer-bong with the best of 'em.

And I know Mr. Nubbins is twitching his nose down at us right now from that big, warm, green, lush, Bunny Graveyard in the sky.

And just out of curiosity, does anyone know what Lauren Chapman is up to? She'd want to know about this. Actress, sings, dances, teaches dances...anyone?

If you have any information, let me know. For Mr. Nubbins' sake.

I've been meaning to write about a few things, according to my notes. It's going to be a little erratic, perhaps, but it's either that or more of these "quickie" posts I've been spitting out.

[Australian Biology 101]

"It's like a koala bear crapped a rainbow in my brain!"

-Harry Goz.

He was the voice of Captain Murphy on Sea Lab: 2021. (Currently airing on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim.) He is dead now. But I know that from now on, whenever I hear about koala bears crapping rainbows, I'm gonna think of one man and one man only.

[Harry Goz]


You are Captain Murphy. You've lost your mind, but
you have more fun without it.


Which Sealab 2021 character are you?
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Italian Lovin' 101

I was up for two hours doing my homework for Italian class. I had to write three separate dialogues. In all three, I hit on girls in clever ways and then get rejected even more cleverly.

I'm just preparing for my trip to Italy.

My teacher was amused. A sad, pitying, smile means amused, right?

Kindergarten 101

I borrowed some money from my mom not too long ago. As a result, she asked me to help her with her kindergarten class. She has a keen memory, that woman, and she there is one thing she remembers particularly well: Guillermo borrowing money=will obey everything commanded to him until he has repaid said money.

Lousy Moms, knowin' stuff about their children.

So Monday morning found me slurming out of bed at 6 am after having fallen asleep at my normal bedtime hour of about 4 am.

I was not a happy Gurg.

But I managed to make it over to my parent's house. I had breakfast, which was pretty sweet. Luis stumbled out of bed while I was eating and asked what I was doing there. I told him that I was just going to help Mom out. My dad didn't ask me what I was doing there. He just asked if I had been up all night. (I've been known to wander in during the wee hours of the morning to have breakfast after a long night of...charity work and studying.)

My mother and I arrived at her school and she introduced me to every...single...person...there.

Well, not to every person there, but at least every one that was over 5 feet tall.

Most of the time I spent working on report cards, since the school had a new master-online-report thing that my mom completely didn't understand.

Oh, during the Pledge of Allegiance, the whole class stood up and did the facing-the-flag-with-their-hands-over-their-heart-recital bit. I was searching for a file and so remained in my seat. I felt a sharp jab in my back just as I found the file. My mother was poking me with her teacher's pointer. At first I wondered why in the hell she wanted to point at me. Then I realized she probably wanted me to stand up with everyone else.

I ignored her and continued working, gambling that she wouldn't just whack me over the head with it since she was in front of her students and I'm sure she was teaching them that "violence doesn't solve problems." Foolish mother. If she had threatened me with the stapler, I probably would have stood. She just didn't have the guts.

*So as not to be misconstrued, I shall say this: I will fight, kill, and maybe even die to protect America. But you won't see me jumping through any hoops for it. I treats my country likes I treats my's ex-girlfriendses: Sure, U.S., I'll help you change your flat tire, but I'm not going to watch your ratty-ass rat-dog while you go on vacation. And no, I don't want to come over and "just talk!"*

We went to the cafeteria for lunch. (I was introduced to all the lunch-ladies.) But it was sweet, I got to get a big styrofoam tray-plate hybrid, I got a corn-dog and a hamburger, steak fries, an orange, and also a cup of applesauce. Does life get any better?

My mom and I sat with some of her students (present and former.) The kid I was sitting next to showed genuine awe that we both had hamburgers on our plates. "But," he pointed out, "yours has cheese and mine doesn't."

"Why don't you go get some cheese?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he explained. "Only teachers can get that stuff." By "that stuff" I assumed he meant the small tray of lettuce, sliced tomatoes, onions, and yes, cheese that was next to the little boxes of chocolate milk.

"Only teachers?" Screw that, I thought. This is America! Everyone gets cheese here! "Here kid, you can have my cheese."

He was grateful, and said so. I told him not to mention it. Nor did I mention that I really considered it more of an investment in the future. (Fat children, five-cents a bushel...anyone?)

When my mom and I finished eating, we got up to go. But before we left, my mother gently admonished some little girl for hardly eating anything on her plate.

Good looking out, Mom.

Mom let me off the hook, despite not having eaten all of my orange because it tasted like burning.

I'm not kidding. I eat spicy foods, but this had been a very different kind of burning.

What are they feeding these kids?

The day was fun, despite the dreary data-entry I had been doing for most of it. Still, I was glad to go. Those kids weren't getting any of my Simpsons references. What's wrong with today's youth? I should have tried my Harry Potter material.

Honors Booty-Shakin' 101

The old-school dance party was awesome. Mai-Linh and I had been calling it an "old-school dance party" because, as Alecia stated, "You see, back in high school we used to have frequent dance parties. We'd find a place, everyone would get dressed up, and we'd all dance for hours and hours completely lacking any alcohol or drugs." (Reading that last bit makes me realize it wasn't exactly old-school. But hey, to quote her brother, Donovan: "That's why they have New-School. Because Old-School sucked!)

But a few people understood that to mean 80's old school and came dressed accordingly. (We had also asked that people burn mixed CD's to play.) It worked out well though, Gilberto's 80's mix rocked the house! Amy Thon's late-90's mix was also sweet. Mai-Linh's mixes were good.

My drunken DJ'ing (between my monster speakers hooked up to the DVD player and the huge multi-disk CD player Mai stole from her sister) was nothing short of inspired. Impaired, but inspired nonetheless.

Is anyone interested in another dance party?

Lauren H. showed me (sort of) how to hook up my laptop to just the huge speakers so that this time I can focus less on DJ'ing and more on drinking. That's what computers are for, right?

I need feedback. If you didn't come to the dance party because you said it couldn't be done, will you come shake yo thang with us now that we've proven ourselves?
(Seriously, there were mad hotties shaking their tail-feathas.)

Emotional Ties To Food Items In Society 101

I went to Sonic a few days ago. I got a Route 44 Ocean Water. I hadn't had one in quite some time.

I used to get one practically every week, sometimes even two. Of course, I was with someone when I used to go. She was one of my best friends.

And now she isn't.

I miss her a lot. In fact, it seems like I am missing her more and more.

Maybe that's why D.C.'s play "Skip" (which I never got around to writing a critique for and here's why) got to me so much. The play was hilarious, by the way. You all should keep an eye on that boy.

The play spoke of how when people remember things, they tend to idealize. For instance, when I remember Trevor, I think of his fluid wordplay and scathing retorts. I don't think of the time he somehow managed to throw up on my comforter.

Missing someone more is...unsettling.

Am I just idealizing her?

Or worse, is she really that great and caring and wonderful and the more and more I meet people I realize in the end that they're not nearly as great as she and the one person that I felt would really accept me for everything that I was, the bad with the good, gave me a chance to care about her the same way and I BLEW IT?

Actually, I don't know which of those two alternatives would be worse.

I'm tired, this entry is too long, it's late, and I have to go find the person who said "If it is finer to love than to receive love, then unrequited love is the finest love of all," and then kick them in the groin.

Ha ha.

I just checked my account balance.

It's game over, man. Game over.

Excerpts from Matt Summerfield and Guillermo Lopez watching "The Core" last night, a movie about tunneling to the center of the Earth to save the world.

Guy in movie: You can't go outside now, it's over 9,000 degrees out there!

Some other guy in movie: What about our protective suits?

Guy in movie: The suits can only handle half that!

Matt: You know, they should just put on two suits.

Guillermo: Yeah! That's exactly what I was thinking! [Matt and Guillermo high-five.]

Matt: Hey, we better start cooking that pizza now. It's gonna take like twenty minutes.

Guillermo: Dude! Let's just cook it at twice the heat so it'll only take ten minutes!

Matt: Dude! [Matt and Guillermo high-five again.]

Moral of the story: Guns don't kill people. Mixed drinks and bad movies kill people.

Guillermo's Blog Scavenger Hunt!

A Gurg will occasionally enjoy a ____ _____ (two words) when he's feeling down because it reminds him of a certain time from his childhood days.

What is it?

What childhood days does he mean?

Hint: The two words aren't "12-pack."

Hint: Partially.
Hint: Gelatinated.
Hint: Gum-based.

Give me the date of the post that contains the answer and I may reward you. With what, you ask?

Do the words "Mystery Box" mean anything to you?