Nips' Conniptions

As an Irish Gopher, I have to drag myself out my burrow at early o'clock every morning... rarely to find my shadow... and ride my vandalized bike in to school through the freezing cold to sit in amazingly uncomfortable chairs and take notes in class. Interestingly, every course I am enrolled in happens to be a "Unite" class. This means that, since the classes are fairly introductory, several companies across the state/country feel that it is worth $600 + tuition per person to have their poor employees sit in some room (presumably with equally uncomfortable chairs) and watch my class via a microwave or internet transmission. This requires a "Man Behind The Glass" (As they are so colorfully and endearingly described) to sit in a little room and twiddle joysticks that control some remote cameras for the purposes of capturing the lecture. "Off campus" students are then able to call in via telephone, or, if they happen to be in a Unite Center, can patch video of themselves in to the class and ask questions, if they choose. This has never happened. In addition, in-class students have microphones that can be used to capture their questions cas well. This also has never happened. It isn't all bad, though... they have a camera mounted in the ceiling that gives worthwhile overhead shots of the podium so the professor has only to say "HELLO? MAN BEHIND THE GLASS?? COULD I GET AN OVERHEAD SHOT FOR THE TENTH TIME?", and it miraculously shows up on the 15 monitors hanging from various points in the room. High tech.

So after a half hour or so of listening to the same crap (...discussion topics...) that I have had pounded into my head in one of my other two classes, the chairs start to become surprisingly comfortable. Soon, not only do the chairs begin to remind me of La-Z-boys, but the table starts too look like the most amazingly accomodating of down pillows... and I may or may not fade from consciousness from time to time.

In addition to the various cameras trained on the professor, there is also a remote controlled camera that sits perched at the front of the class waiting for some unsuspecting victim... err... student... to ask a question. It then flashes to him/her, allowing the question to be published to the world wide web. This has never happened.

One time, as my persecution chair was beginning to soften up, I happened to glance up towards the camera, only to find it pointed directly at me. I stared at it for a moment as the chair firmed up good and splintery, and looked over in time to see the "Man Behind The Glass" giving me a very strange grin. Awkwardly, I turned back and tried to pay attention to the professor, but the camera didn't move. It stayed on me for the rest of the class. Like some sort of flagrant stalker or something, the stupid thing just stared at me with its unblinking eye. Kinda freaked me out.


EDIT: Mmm... just realized that the whole thing could be summed up as: "This guy was watching and video taping me in class. Kinda freaked me out." Oh, well!

Posted by ndNips at 8:38 PM | Permalink | Comments

So, perhaps it has been a while since I last updated... I couldn't help it! I suddenly found myself geographically removed by about 600 miles from where I planned on being this past weekend. Not that I'm complaining, of course! Indeed, I made the trip to ND again, bringing my Illinois adventure count to 3 over the past 3 weeks. One in a healthy Ion, one in a trashed Ion, and one with the Ion in the shop. I just love my Ion. Not really.

So on Thursday night, I found out that Emily had an extra ticket to the BYU game. "Project worth a large percentage of my grade due Tuesday?", I pondered... "screw it, I'm outta here." So I stayed up all night working on that bad Larry, turned in some homework at 5:30am, and hoofed it for the Dub in the Malibu at the crack of 6am. Happily, I caught my first sunrise in... a long time... just as I was entering the river valley and had an absolutely amazing view over lake Pepin... not that any of you know where that is... anyway, caught a ride with the Crazy Asian (Michelle)'s parents, ducked and rolled out onto some random El pad and trained it in to pick up Emily. I was a little tired. We South Shore'd it the rest of the way, grabbed some dins with bfleming's parents and chilled in the Bend. I became the butt of several weight jokes and found overwhelming proof that faltos are the butt of all jokes. Very good times.

Hoover actually had a party, and it rocked fairly hard. Amazingly, despite the fact that I once owned (or at least rented) the venue, I played Cups for the first time. Dunno how good I was... but good times certainly were had. It was awesome hanging out with the guys again. Honestly, it has been too long. I didn't spend nearly enough time doing such nonsense my senior year. The crowd was awesome, the ambience enjoyable, and the music... freako Hoover stuff. After a shot of Hot Damn (Another first...), some Papa Johns pizza (which I have missed oh, so much), and a little "Old School," the "Drunk Blanket" tucked me in nicely and I crashed on the couch. Beautious.

The game was fun, but cold; Tailgating, classic. Loch Lomond was very cool and it was fun picking on some frosh (or not so frosh) tones.

Afterwards, Emily and I hung with Kelly, Mal, D-day, and Ball at the BrewCo to catch a little of the game and take in a tasty brew. Mild-mannered hillarity, as expected, ensued.

The next morning, it was off to the Dub, where, having conveniently found that I did not forget my keys at Hoover's, I grabbed some food at the homestead before heading back to Mpls.

A great weekend!

A not horribly confused entry!

Oh, God, I still have 40 more minutes to kill before class...

Posted by ndNips at 11:02 AM | Permalink | Comments

The iOff has gone to a better place: A place where it will no longer be taunted. A loving environment where it will not be struck for sport or jeered for laughs. The ol' boy is off someplace where it will be respected for what it is: "Special." That place is Raymond's Auto Spa/Body Shop. I'm sure they will treat it with the utmost of care. From what I hear, they have only the most advanced massage tools to take the kinks (and crumples) out of the revered single charged particle's traumatized backbone/uniframe. Ever the tuff guy, the Ion hid its bruises from the casual observer with its plastic exterior... shielding the damage out of modesty. In fact, the pain from within dragged our protagonist to its knees. Even the use of external cosmetics, such as the donning of a new light fixture could not ease the struggles. The doctors have been grim. They say that in order for a full recovery, he will need at least a week's worth of pampering and surgery. The cost of this emotional and physical burden? An amazing $3,500. The poor guy...

What could do this to such a proud little vehicle? What on earth could cause such pain to be felt under that cool and calm plastic exterior? Just ask any man: A woman. Indeed, it was a woman, enraged by the actions (possibly?) of her boyfriend (perhaps?), who took command of her significant other's hulking Jeep while "freaked out" and accelerated to a speed of 30 mph over the distance of 20 yds in reverse before slamming into a slumbering iOff. This mighty blow dropped our hero like a shot in the back (because it was).

Despite valiant first aid efforts by the woman's boyfriend, the iOff was unable to fully regain its poise and posture. It's body ached and shuddered. It had to seek medical attention, and fast. The prognosis? Not good. Damage totally nearly half of the earthly value of the proud steed. Flowers will be accepted during the iOff's painful recovery.

Until then, it's "Screw the Ion, I hated it anyway!!" I've been hittin' the streets in a spiffy little Malibu that is fully loaded with power everything, including mats!! Well, not mats... but everything else! Can't say I really appreciate the design of the car, but I have keyless entry now. Booya. Unlimited mileage and a free half tank of gas! Thanks, American Family! I miss my Passat.

Get well soon, iOff!

Posted by ndNips at 10:21 PM | Permalink | Comments

Have you ever walked around and suddenly had something smack into you brain and think: "Ha ha! That would be a funny away message!?" Me neither.

So it appears to me that titles are a lot like clever away messages. They're concise, yet elaborative; Revealing, yet not entirely forthcoming; Harmless, yet addictive. Here are some possible titles for the previous post.

--"And then I found out she was a guy..."
--"I'll take two, please! (dinners, that is)"
--"Thanks, Chicago... *vroom*"
--"Let's Attack Scooby"
--"Hello, Miss Persely"
--"There's only so much a single charged particle can do!"
--"1,200 overland miles later..."
--"I just woke up in a field and have no idea where I am"
--"Suck it, SC."
--"Farewell, Nick's Patio Cherry"
--"So he wants to sleep before the big game... LAME..."
--"Charlie Weis = God"
--"Booya! It only took you 395 hits on the "reload" button, but here it is!"
--"Best October sunburn ever."
--"ROTC people like tables."
--"We don't have Jag or Red Bull"
--"ND National Championship '06"

Posted by ndNips at 6:50 PM | Permalink | Comments

...and Stephen Schreiber.

The IRISH are back, baby! And I was there to witness their incredible homecoming! The echoes have been awakened! The thunder was shaken down! This is ND football!! What an amazing game to attend!

I knew it was going to be a breakout game... how could it not?? My string of luck last week left me very confident that this year's squad would make the Rock proud. Well, except for the whole car getting smashed in, 2 lousy tests, general suckiness things... sooo... I suppose that I mean to say that I was due! Yes, I was overdue for positive karmic swing.

Anticipating said realignment of the stars, I trekked off for a little 9 hour jaunt across the countryside. Tooling along at 85, the little iOff put its heart and soul into relocating me under the golden dome as we ripped up the biways across Wisconsin. Nevermind my harrowing journey through the wasteland known as the northern Chicago suburbs, as I was nailbitingly low on gasoline... that just added to the excitement! After finally hitting O'hare, I wisked away Lizett and rocketted towards the 'Bend. I am absolutely certain that it is legal to pull a U-ey over the cement barrier, 2 El tracks, and a second barrier... unfortunately, what I actually did may not have been quite so legal. Oh, what a bittersweet relationship we have, Chicago... if only we could work on your communication skills. Like... WHERE'S THE FREAKIN' ONRAMP FOR THE SKYWAY.

Yup, then we snagged a nutritious meal meal at the Steak and Shake where I simply could not get the waitress to let me in on the S&S secret formula for making their food oh, so tasty yet completely devoid of any grease. It's amazing! That, or to give us our shakes.

"I'm sorry, we don't have Jag or Red Bull": Legends = Lame.

Saturday, Ball woke up way too early to secure a ridiculous tailgating spot... which I obligingly sauntered over to at about 9:30. Snagged a couple Silver Bullets, chatted it up with some alumni, foolishly believed I could get Barry to provide a Barry Rub performance, and generally kicked back. It was good being able to see everybody again, or at least to witness a quality table theft.

So Scooby hid from us. Dave and I were thwarted in our mission to pummel him, but the defense wasn't so bad. It's always good to see the ol' tones. I got to meet all the noobs and give them some crap. Kinx may have given me some crap. I may have been unable to read the screen on my cell phone. Sometimes these things happen.

Unlike this thing: Honestly, I don't know how NBC missed it, but God himself was wandering campus Saturday morning. No, no... not like the Rock, Bon Jovi, or Brad Pitt were... no, he was really there. I heard his halo was pretty cool. Poor sucker, though... he dropped his student ticket on the ground near the library! I bet he was pissed when Mal picked it up and gave it to me! Unsigned! I mean, come on now, God. Have some self respect... So I got in.

Yes, I got in.

Sure, I had to wait a while until some schlub got so visibly fed up with me standing in his way that he let me have some bench space, but it was completely worth it. Right along with denying myself food or water the entire game so as to not give up my spot. In the student section. In Notre Dame Stadium. As the Trojans nearly fell.

That evening was pretty chill. We hung out in the navel of the world (With deference to Gary's title), paid $8 for a beer, and generally had a great time with great friends. Dems da stuff.

As is Nick's, I've now learned. A quality dining experience was had Sun morning before we sat campus down for its annual school picture and booked it for Chitown. Good times were had.

I drove to the Dub to give the weezing iOff a break and hit Mini-a-polis in the morning to find that the drunk punks next door had vandalized my bicycle. Class? Naaahhh.

...and my shoes are wearing out. The transpo gods are pissed. Oose?

Posted by ndNips at 5:12 PM | Permalink | Comments

There is only one way to ROCK: Hard. What happens during the rocking, however, is entirely up to you! If it involves burning down a few cities, then that's what you have to do. Chicago was asking for it. Enter the single charged particle and a fistful of gas/toll money. Fun was to be had.

So Friday I packed up and booked 'er for the Windy City with a white shirt and excellent company in tow to visit Emily and MJ in their DePaulian abode. Since the prior visit has become a phenomenon of legend, expectations were high and somehow I ended up on the blocks the second I walked in the door. Gotta start somewhere... and that somewhere had best not be Mickey D's. Because that's where DePaul "Empployyes" work. Frightening.

After dining and kickstarting, we rocked past Sparty Spartan's favorite bar and met our new bestest pal: Paul. Paul was an interesting chap. Not really a man of words, really... makes sense, since his tongue was gold. Take pretty much the only words he said for example: "Where's this from? Minnesota, huh?" [Upon looking at one ID] "Fake Minnesota ID... Real Minnesota ID [Upon looking at mine]." And then we went in.

Inside, we were really lucky and met the owner of the bar! It was great! He bought us a round of shots and chatted it up with Emily and myself while we tried to get his friend to hook up with MJ. He was cool and apparently dated the excessively-gromitted-belt-wearing bartender. Yeah, the bar may have been somewhat tame, but that didn't stop the party on our side of the divide. We rocked like rockstars. They did not. I left a $15 tip for the very cold bartender. And then I did not find $20.

Instead, I bit it hard core on the sidewalk! Unfortunate, really... considering those were my work pants I managed to put 5 holes in! I mean... MJ managed to put 5 holes in! The guys at work will probably miss me. It was nice getting the paycheck while it lasted.

The night was wrapped up with a super sweet (and memorable) dance party.

At the crack of noon the next day we got up and hit the streets of Chicago. They hit back. Or at least the deranged guy who started yelling at me on the side of the sidewalk did. Awkward. Chicago is awesome though, because you take the good with the bad. Later we ran into one of the most amazing street performers I've ever seen down in the El tunnels busting out some tunes on his geetar. Take it home, buddy. Take it home.

Or maybe that was home... not sure. But we went home. Home to some fine cooking, I might add, as the OTHER OTHER Asian cooked us up a tasty dining experience. So good that I felt compelled to describe it to her mother later that night. She liked it.

Before that time, however, there was much rocking to be done. We headed over to find Paul and his frozen bartender compadre and see what sort of trouble we could find. Trouble found us! Then we drank it. Oooor, we spilled it all over the bar. Oooor, that was actually me. For the first time in the weekend, though, Klondike Heart actually took pity on me and made me a fresh Sunrisey beverage free of charge! Then we met the owner of the bar! Interesting how he didn't recognize us from the night before... or look anything like he did the night before at all. But then... when I gave the Icicle Princess her $15 tip the night before and mentioned that her boyfriend was cool, she did seem to be rather shocked, if not offended... ("WHAT? Where is my "boyfriend??") Yeah, he lied. Whatevs!

"See, what ya gotta do, is just talk to people! It's fun and sometimes they give you stuff!.... Heeeey! What's up, buddy? Where ya from?..." All you have to do is talk about ND football and you'll find a friend. Or a Michigani.

Then we went home and put on a movie whose title I can't even bring myself to mention in this blog. Sure, I proved I was secure in my sexuality by talking to pretty much everybody I saw, but this horrorshow of a children's classic just went one step too far. Many tacitos later, it was time for z-chasing.

We burned down Chicago and it was a blast!

Sadly, this post sucks. I apologize.

(Links courtesy of MJ!)

Posted by ndNips at 12:24 AM | Permalink | Comments

You thought you were safe with your puny 15 yard buffer zone, didn't you, iOff?! Sucker. That'll be 3G's please. Out the door! Into the iOFF.

Posted by ndNips at 9:30 PM | Permalink | Comments

SOMEBODY RAN INTO MY CAR IN MY SPACIOUS PARKING LOT.

Posted by ndNips at 4:58 PM | Permalink | Comments