I wanted to write something for the blog today, so I've spent a lot of time thinking about something interesting to write about. I really struggle with writing about things that I don't care about. I realize that everybody struggles with that, but it definitely applies to me. BSing about something boring is okay for school but is not something I'm really interested in letting anybody else read. I guess you could say that I am fairly sensitive about what people think about my writing (once again, I realize this is fairly common).

I am currently watching Pardon the Interruption on ESPN (which is a really good show when compared to the other stuff ESPN produces). Kornheiser and Wilbon discussed the significance of Rafael Nadal, the world #1 in men's tennis, expressing serious self-doubt following his most recent match. From what I understand (which is admittedly limited), Nadal was less than confident about his prospects against the remaining French Open field. Kornheiser and Wilbon discussed what this display of self-doubt meant for Nadal's chances in winning his 6th (yes 6th) French Open Championship. They shared a very reasonable perspective* that Nadal still had a very good chance to win. They seemed to agree with me that Nadal's 5 previous titles have more predictive power than Nadal's honest assessment of himself. They added a piece of information that I was not aware of. Apparently, Nadal is known for being overly realistic about his performance in the press conferences that follow his matches. Nadal is the #1 tennis player in the world, and he is consumed with self-doubt to the extent that 5 previous championships at Roland Garros do not give him endless confidence. Thoughtful readers may point out that a person truly consumed with self-doubt would not be so open about his limitations in a public setting (I think this is a reasonable point).

*As much as I love ESPN, most of the content it produces and distributes is poorly thought out and often inane. PTI is one of the few shows that I actually find mentally stimulating. Most of the announcers on ESPN must have been hired for their ability to speak to cameras, because they certainly weren't hired for their brilliant analysis.*

So the world's best tennis player struggles with self-doubt just like me? Nadal is worried that he might not be playing well enough to win this week, and I am worried that people may think my writing is terrible. It's exactly the same thing. Okay, obviously I don't do anything as well as Nadal plays tennis, and I don't want anybody to think I am comparing myself to anything on that level. If anything, my self-doubt is more deserved given that Nadal is the best tennis player in the world and I am the best writer in my basement (I am the only person in my basement). The point is that everybody struggles with self-doubt. It's just an issue of how people express it. Plenty of them suppress it so much that you would never know. These people may overcompensate for their self-doubt with a veil of self-confidence.

I think I've heard people say that bullies are really cowards. Whether or not this true (I'm skeptical), I think it's a good analogy for self-doubt and self-confidence. Self-doubt and confidence go hand-in-hand. We all have both, just in different amounts. They are not mutually exclusive (meaning that you can have both self-doubt and confidence). They work together to shape how we present ourselves to other people. We each have our preferred amount of both. I would not want to live with only self-confidence and all the implications that come with it. Similarly, I would not want to live with only self-doubt and all the implications that come with it. There is a healthy balance, specific to the individual.

I mentioned before that plenty of people suppress their self-doubt. When I said plenty, I really meant most, if not all. I started out by writing that I don't like to write about things I don't care about. Readers who have been paying attention hopefully figured out that self-doubt is really important to me because I am consumed with self-doubt. Although Rafael Nadal and I are similar in very few ways, I can sympathize with his feeling of self-doubt. Even in settings that we've proved ourselves before, we struggle with accepting and moving past our perception of our limitations. I have no brilliant solution for the self-doubt problem. This is partly because I try (emphasize try) not to view self-doubt as all negative (The other part is because I'm just not smart enough to figure out the answer). Doubt keeps us grounded. It keeps us aware of our limitations. It prevents success from going to our heads. I may disagree with the following thought tomorrow, but maybe self-doubt is just as important as self-confidence when comes to being a successful person (whatever that means).

I hope you like my writing.

D

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Chilling with unicorns, James Van Der Beek, and a massive rainbow gunfight??? Damn it, Ke$ha... You get to have all the fun...

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Still on vacation. Doing arts and crafts with my youngest sister. Makes me wish for the days when I was little, and it was socially acceptable for me to color and do random art projects. Tonight I'll be back in the Del, hanging with the boys. Hells yeahs!!!!

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Yeah, me either...

I'll be in the arcade until I'm out of quarters... Then I guess I'll go back to playing angry birds or solitaire. For right now though, it's just me, this machine, and my iPhone pumping out some jams. Currently listening to some of this... Which I only have a link for because apparently YouTube won't let my iPhone get the embedded code. Curse my laptop for being old and falling apart.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?nomobile=1&v=LfCZsktqq7Q

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Hello world!

Currently I'm writing from outside my hotel in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I'm here for my sister's dance competition... Woohoo... Personally I've never really been into the dance competition scene. I gave up dance/cheerleading/gymnastics when I was thirteen because I hurt myself in dance class one night, and decided that I had had enough. My sister, on the other hand, has kept with it. She's fifteen now, and even though I'm really proud of her, I feel a complete and total disconnect with my family's obsession with sport/dance competitions. Which makes me the black sheep in the family, because I would rather write than spend endless hours killing myself trying to learn routines. The benefit of this though is the fact that I can sneak off and do my own thing.

Which brings me to what I'm doing now, which is smoking and writing to all of you. Quick funny side note, I'm sitting on a rock ledge that overlooks a golf course, and some drunk guy just walked past me and yelled, "DON'T JUMP! WE ARE HERE!" I laughed, mainly because it's only a ten foot drop... It's not even enough to cause minimal damage. I know this because I may have accidentally jumped a similar ledge, not realizing it's actual distance. That's a different story though. As for now, I'm fine just sitting here smoking my cigarettes and staring up at the sky. I have a fascination with stars.

To be honest, I'm a little disappointed that I'm here in Lancaster and not back at home with the boys. It is my last weekend here before I go to Colorado for a month, but I have done a good job saving face for my family and pretending that I actually want to be here.

I miss the boys a lot, which missing people is kind of a foreign concept to me. My parents split up when I was two, so I've grown up with having to be separated from the people I care about constantly. The boys are pretty much my only exception. Ever. I think it's partcially because I feel like they actually want me around, and I can just relax and be whatever I want to be around them. It's a comforting feeling, which is probably why I hold them at a higher regard than most of my own family.

I may physically be here with my smoke and the stars, but mentally I'm back home, sitting in my thinking chair in TK's garage with the boys. *sigh* well, until next time...

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Liars.

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They call it commencement, the beginning of the rest of your life. My mom used to tell me that when she graduated, she was ready to move on. A combination of boredom and regret pushed her to take her college degree and get out as quickly as possible, both physically and emotionally. I understood why she felt this way about her college experience, but I never thought I would be "ready" to leave Duke. College has the habit of becoming 4 of the best/significant years of an individual's life, and I am no exception. Over the course of the last 4 years, my worst skill became my best and I developed unbelievably strong friendships. I became an important person to people. There is nothing that builds self-confidence faster than when those around you believe you're important.

I had daily reminders that people respected my opinion enough to seek me out. My judgment became accepted as wisdom. I have no idea how I went from being a shy freshmen to a wise, old fraternity president, but I'd like to think that I made people comfortable. I hope that my mellow personality gave comfort to those that were infinitely more stressed than I was. I hope that they knew that I had their backs regardless of the challenges that they might face. I hope they trusted that I would resolve any problems that came up and would shield them from any concerns that weren't necessary for me to share with them. I wish they knew how badly I wanted to make them all proud of me. I will always be grateful to those people who mistakenly thought that I knew what I was doing, who gave me the opportunity to lead them, who were my friends.

The truth is I was never comfortable with any of this. I never knew how to handle being so respected. I had no supervision. I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, with no questions asked. I was uncomfortable being the center of attention (I was probably the quietest and most low-maintenance fraternity president ever). Although I eventually got used to my role, I would have preferred to be #2. I would have preferred to work for somebody else. I would have preferred more privacy and anonymity (everything I did was seen and/or known by everybody). Thankfully for me and my future, my fraternity was having none of this. They forced me to grow up. They forced me to learn how to talk to people. They forced me to keep working even when I wanted to give up. I am so grateful.

Unfortunately, 2 years of leadership wore on me. At the beginning of semesters, I was energized and my patience meter was full. I could handle any problem that could come up, organizationally or individually (others). People would come to me at all hours of the day looking for me to fix their problems. By the end of the semesters, I would become worn down, frustrated, and sometimes bitter. I put so much pressure on myself to do everything perfectly. I was so afraid to let people down. Sometimes, I would blame others for putting so much pressure on me, even when I knew that I was responsible for shouldering all the burden. At the end (especially the last 2 springs), I would long to be freed from responsibility and would hope that somebody else would offer to pick up the slack. It was these times in which I missed my NJ friends the most. There is some special quality that our group has that asks each individual to play a small role and nothing more. When I came home, I would revel in the lack of expectations and the lack of self-induced pressure. Unfortunately, my friends at school became accustomed to me doing everything for them, and I certainly was not going to let them struggle alone: so I kept working until the very end. I wish I were stronger. I wish I were better able to shoulder that burden. I worked as hard as I could. Sometimes it was enough, but normally it wasn't.

This is why near the end I was ready to leave. I love my friends at Duke. I love that they had so much faith in me. I love that I was able to make their lives a little bit easier, but I can't do it anymore. I tried solving everybody's problems, but nobody can do that forever. I will really miss feeling like the most important person in the room, but for awhile I'd really like to be just like everybody else. The last few weeks of college, I was counting down the days until I could go home. I had never been particularly homesick up to that point, but after 4 years of college, I was desperate to see Tk's garage again.

My best friend Cor (she was introduced to you guys very recently) asked a few weeks ago if I was upset about graduation. I told her that I wasn't but that I expected that I would be soon. I was right. The week before graduation it finally hit me that I would never see my friends again. Although I know that I will see them again, I also know that it will never be the same. We will never all live together again. We will never all hang out on regular basis. We will never again have impromptu fun. I will never see my best friend everyday again. For the rest of our lives, seeing each other will be big deal just because of how rare it will be. I am still struggling with this realization and will continue to for the foreseeable future. Even knowing how badly I wanted to leave near the end and how the pressure tore me apart, I would go through it all for another 2 years if it meant I could be with my friends again. In the end, they gave me much more than I possibly could have given them. I hope they know that.

D

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So after a few... Interesting... Games of beer pong, D transcribed the official beer pong commandments. They go as follows:

These commandments are subject to change.

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Enjoying the beginning of a cool summer at D's house today with a cup of purple tea... Somehow I got the tea bag stuck on the spoon... I wasn't even using the spoon. Don't know how I did that. We are all outside on the patio listening to the birds. They are REALLY LOUD! We are pretty sure they are screaming "THE WORLD IS ENDING! THE WORLD IS ENDING!" D brought up the fact that R and J went to Iceland and a volcano erupted. I think it may be because R wore a Mighty Ducks jersey to Iceland. Either way, somehow the volcano was their fault. *laughs*

Peace & Cigarettes,
B


UPDATE: Just got a message from J. Apparently they are now in Paris, and the keyboards are different. Also volcano=bad...

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This post is dedicated to those who can sympathize with the awkward parental talk. Commencing from the "where to babies come from" to the "sex" talk and continues until they reveal something totally unwarranted...

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1) No Politics
2) No Religion
3) No spitting..... (directly instated due to T)
4) No vomiting..... (I've mentioned this before, A has a problem. lol)
5) No Guns... (But machetes are alright.)
6) No crying.... (No one has actually cried in the garage yet. We'd like to keep it that way.)
7) No Bro Ice-ing.....(Except for A)
8) No judging the Dezert Championship sober. 
9) No violence... (There was an issue tonight with T and B regarding space boundaries)
10) No getting out of control, like pissing in the garage, or else suffer the punishment of getting punched in the face. (Which kind of makes commandment number nine pointless)...

These rules are subject to change at anytime, and we reserve the right to add more if necessary.

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They are as sour as I remembered...

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My friend from work just walked up to me and said that I'm the only person he knows who would get arrested for something stupid. Not something cool like grand theft auto, or murder, but something stupid like unpaid parking tickets... Note: I haven't been arrested, there are no warrants out for me, and I don't have any unpaid tickets. My bad luck has a reputation though.

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Hello world!

So if you have already read TK's last post, you know that we threw a surprise birthday party for him. The idea to have a surprise party was kind of an impromptu decision made by myself, C, and D. You see, TK had a pretty rough birthday this year, and we knew he was feeling down. So the idea of a party was born! I mean, everything is better after a good party! Originally, D and I discussed getting everyone together for some mini-golf and arcade madness. The plan was set, when C proposed an even better idea. We should have a party at D's house. D's house parties are always epic events... Even when they end with me being black out drunk, because I mixed red wine (which I've learned that I'm allergic to) and beer... Maybe a few other things were mixed in as well. That night ended with me weakly fighting four of the boys as they tried to get me to go to bed. That's a completely different story though. Some other time maybe...

Back to the surprise party, the plans had been made, and C kept teasing me about making sure i kept this a secret from TK. He had serious doubts about my secret keeping abilities. *laughs* I am better at keeping secrets than the guys give me credit for. That's because they have no idea that I'm keeping secrets. Which makes me the best secret keeper ever (note to the boys: there are currently no secrets that you need to know about).

The only thing we had to do now was get TK to D's house Wednesday night. I came up with an easy excuse, and told TK that D wanted to watch South Park at his house this week. D gave me hell for this later, because he claimed I made it sound like he was demanding that we watch South Park at his house. *laughs* I should have made it sound that way...

Moving on, Wednesday came! Everything was ready and set up for the party... Except for one thing, TK wasn't there. Most of us had arrived at seven and had started playing beer pong. Which, on a little side note, every time I played my team won. I'm just saying, I may not have the best luck when comes to cars and boys, but damn do I have luck when it comes to beer pong and craps tables. (A few of us are going to Vegas in June and I can't wait!). D's basement is notorious for blocking our cell phone signals, so eventually I went outside to text TK to see when he'd be arriving. I was enjoying myself outside, listening to music and dancing around in the rain when Char came out to join me. I played outside for a little longer, because I was a little tipsy, and eventually Char convinced me to come inside before I caught a cold. We hung out inside for a little longer, still waiting for TK. D suggested that I set up the candles on the cake, since TK said he'd be arriving soon. Instead of getting twenty-two candles, D had bought letter candles that spelled out TK's name. Unfortunately one of those letters was broken. So for some reason that is beyond me, I decided that I could fix it by melting the candle back together. I ended up burning myself and getting yelled at by C.

After the incident, Char, C and I decided we needed another smoke break. It wasn't long after that before TK arrived. C asked, before TK joined us, if we should yell, "SURPRISE!" when he came out. I said no, and mentioned that we should wait for everyone to be here, as TK stepped outside with J. Char, apparently ignoring the current conversation, yelled out, "SURPRISE!".... C and I just looked at each other, shaking our heads. C, J, and I gave no explanation to Char's greeting, and continued smoking like there was nothing going on.

Eventually D and his friend Cor from school joined us. With most of us assembled, except for R and T, we made our way back to the basement. I watched TK apprehensively as he made his way downstairs, and hoped he wouldnt notice the birthday cake blatantly sitting on the table. Luckily he didn't, and C and I attempted to light the candles. While C was burning himself, attempting to light the middle candle, I heard J tell TK he had a surprise on the table. Which I responded by yelling, "J! Shut up!", but TK had already caught a glimpse of his cake. While C and I were shouting both at each other, because we were having candle malfunctions, we also were hollering at TK to stay in the other room. After six or seven tries trying to keep the candles lit, C and I walked in with the cake and we all sang "Happy Birthday" to TK.

The rest of the night was spent watching the new South Park episode, which was awesome, and I watched the boys as they played a drinking game that combines both beer pong and flip cup with baseball. All in all, the surprise birthday party was a success! Last night was the last night that most of us could hang out together, at least for the time being. R and J leave for Europe tomorrow, and I'll be going to Colorado for a month at the beginning of June. C is going to be traveling back and forth to Pace for summer classes. Plus a few of us have jobs/careers to be present at. At least we all had one memorable send off before we go on our separate journeys. Hopefully there will be more in the next few months, I'm sure there will be. Which reminds me, I still need to ask one of the boys to take over the twitter account for me, while I'm in Colorado. We need more quotes! I haven't been good about posting them. Although, I do plan on doing a video blog of my adventures in Colorado... It's pretty much going to be the only thing I have to do there. The midwest is boring as fuck. That's why people drink and weed is legal.

Alright, I have a hangover to nurse and Greek food to deliver...

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

P.S. To my jersey boys... I'll miss you.

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Tonight was a full night for me but an awesome night nonetheless. There were ups and downs but the ups are sure out weighing the downs. I was at work earlier tonight and was informed by the head chef (because everyone else keeps us in the dark) that I’m guaranteed a job till December and then we’re closing down for good. Which means my sorry ass needs to start looking for a new job! Anyway, when we (the staff) got the news we were all pretty bummed out to say the least. Definitely not the way I wanted the evening to start! So I headed home to change my clothes and went over to D’s house to watch the new South Park and Workaholics (honestly it’s not bad, Comedy Central have done worse) and chill with all my buddies from high school who are now graduating from college. Man, those four years fucking FLEW by!

I arrive at D’s and I’m greeted by J, C, B, and Char who yells out “SURPRISE.” There was a brief silence and then everyone went back to smoking their cigarette. I didn’t realize anything was going on. Then we went down to the basement where D was chilling with his friend from school and we decided to go outside and pre-game for the new South Park (which was great by the way). Timing worked out because R and T arrived just then. Now, for those of you paying attention to the weather in the northeast, we’re pretty much underwater. It’s rained just about every day this week and I do not like it so far but we made due and went back into the house. We went down to the basement and I prepared to sit down when J points to the other room and tells me that “there’s a surprise on the table for me.” I honestly don’t know what I was thinking but I was just like “Really,” and marched into the other room as B and C started yelling at me to stay back! I saw the flicker of an orange flame and noticed that they were lighting candles on a small birthday cake.

I turned back into the other room and looked at everyone sitting around me as I walked back to my seat on the couch. I had no idea what to say. Did I just walk into my own birthday party without knowing it? What do you think, Admiral Ackbar?

Hahaha, I couldn’t resist!

Well, anyway, that was the case indeed. Now, I haven’t celebrated a birthday in about four years (and I’ve worked on it the past three) so I kind of stopped thinking of it as some sort of special day and started treating it like every other. That sounds cold but for a while there I was seriously wishing my dad would’ve worn a condom! Anyway, the lights went out, everyone sang for me, I learned how to play baseball (drinking game), R gave me a killer present (I can attest to that right now), and I can’t fucking remember a time when I was happier!

I could no longer care about the fact that I might not have a job come the end of the year or the fact that I’ll likely breakdown physically halfway through the summer (I’ll probably be there every day until the very end. In fact, wouldn’t want it any other way). I’ve been there for five years, that’s a good fucking run! This whole night was like a new beginning for me. The burden of five long years of work was lifted from my shoulders and I found myself hanging out with the only group of people that I’ve ever stuck with over the years (and I was friends with just about everyone in this little town at one point or another). It’s been a long time since high school but the ties of friendship are stronger than ever and as I look to where I’m going (no fucking idea) I will never forget where I truly need to be! Never lose sight of the things that really matter in your life, no matter how hard the world tries to kick your ass!

This one’s for us…

Let us rock in peace…

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Sydney is my favorite heroine in a horror movie series. She WENT AFTER ghostface. Sydney was the first one to do that! That's why we have to remember, you don't fuck with an original.



And you never really know who's going to be next...



Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Apparently Dave Chappelle left America because he couldn't handle people running up to him in the streets and screaming, "I'M RICK JAMES, BITCH!!"... So I was thinking, wouldn't it be funny if when Dave Chappelle comes back from Africa (I don't know if he's back already), someone runs up to him in the airport in America and yells, "I'M RICK JAMES, BITCH!" and he gets back on the plane to Africa? It would be like Groundhog Day! If he hears this saying, he returns to Africa for however many years. I don't know, Char, TK and I think about weird shit...

New stories and posts on the way. There may be video blogs coming your way in the near future...

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Today I almost got in a serious accident on 35. Some asshole cut everyone off. It was almost a five car pile up with me in the middle. At first, I couldn't stop shaking. It was like all three of my major car accidents (none were my fault, by the way)kept replayed in my mind. The second I slammed on my breaks, I could hear my tires, and the tires of the other drivers involved, screeching. I just waited. I waited for that all too familiar sound of smashing metal and glass that similar to the sound of an explosion. The way it feels when your body thrusts forward, then gets slammed back due to the seatbelt, that cuts into your shoulder like a bad rug burn. The way the air bag slams into you face and chest full blast, and how the powder from it burns your skin. It was like I relived every pain and injury from those accidents in three seconds as I watched my car get closer to the car in front of me. When I finally stopped I checked behind me to see the car behind me practically slide sideways towards me in the road and into the emergency lane. I held my breath and waited, until I realized I was going to be okay.

Today I was reminded of how short life is. We only get one chance. One shot. That's it. I don't want to waste another second of it waiting. I have to take some chances of my own. No matter how they turn out, if it is the way I hope it will be, or not... I hope everyone will understand my selfishness, and cut me a little slack, because I deserve to find some happiness in this world. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that no one is going to hand what you want to you. You have to go out and take it.

Peace & Cigarettes,
(which I am now out of...)
B

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If people don't start commenting, we are going to have to use fear and intimidation... Then you will all revolt, which will end in your death... So you should comment... I'm kidding about the fear/intimidation/death part... I'm just really sad my ant's are dead...



Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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TBH teaching you how to break mike's and scare underage girls. Enjoy this awesome jam...



Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Still up, still drinking, and I found a clip from That 70’s Show that really made my night a little brighter. Hyde and Leo play the game of Life in the Fotohut! Tommy Chong is the man, man!

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TK here once again, only this time I’m looking to bum people the hell out so if you’re having a good day I suggest you scroll down and read something else because I’ve got no one else to talk to and this seems like a reasonable place to vent. Of course, there are people in the world that are starving or have been displaced from their homes because of some devastating natural disaster so I’m not going to be whining about “why my life sucks,” even though things could always be better. No, I’m specifically talking to the people out there who go to great lengths for others only to never have the favor returned in the end. This has been the story of my life for the better part of five years. Five years of slaving at a job (probably my greatest example) that has taken advantage of my willingness to help and my generosity to the point where I really feel like I have no more to give to anyone anymore.

Now, let me tell you about where I work cause it sounds really cool at first… but then you work there for a couple of years with all the same people and you start to realize just how messed up everything really is! I work at this country club with three awesome nine-hole courses, a patio that looks out over it, and a pretty chill main dining room (more of a bar vibe to it). I started working there in the fall of 2006 bussing tables which was great because the restaurant/kitchen was on top of everything and club membership was still pretty high so I found myself getting a lot of shifts and for the first couple of years that was ok but it got to a point where I couldn’t do anything because I worked all the time and I just feel like a missed out on a lot with my friends during those years, especially during the summers.

Going to school (community college baby… ugh) and working THERE at the same time was a horrible experience because my boss decided it would be cool to start ignoring people’s daily schedules and started giving shifts to everyone that just weren’t possible to meet! But somehow, she just didn’t understand that there were times when people couldn’t work because they had something going on in their personal life. She acts like she does all the work too which is bullshit because I have back and shoulder pains that prove otherwise! Shit, one of the waitresses got fucking tendinitis in her wrist from working so often! Thing’s also weren’t working out at school either with my second year being a disaster, mostly because I had no time to prepare for class so I dropped out expecting the load to lighten a little.

This brings us to five years later, five long years later! It’s gotten to the point where we’ve all started turning against each other and I’m really not kidding! There’s been so much shit talking and bitching and whining from everyone that it’s basically driven me out of all the conversations so I go smoke a cigarette instead. There’s a lot of “he said, she said” bullshit and I just stay the hell out of it and do my fucking job. But it’s gotten to the point where no one cares anymore and I’ve found myself doing the majority of the work almost every day/night. This isn’t rocket science, it’s not exactly difficult stuff that we’re doing here and if we work together then the quicker we can all get out of this hellhole!

For a long time, I’ve been helping people out when they needed their shifts covered because I always had the time now that I’m no longer a student. Unfortunately, several people have used my willingness to help out as a sort of safety net for themselves and have really taken advantage of the situation. Once everyone else says no, they turn to me and I usually say yes because it’s an easy job and I like making money too. But when I need a shift covered, no one steps up to the plate to try and help me out for a change (I can’t even plan a future because I’m always fucking there). I don’t even know what the word fun means anymore. It’s like the word hip. If you say it too many times it starts to lose its meaning.

My approach to life has always been to treat others as you want to be treated but I just don’t think I can anymore. For tomorrow is once again another birthday for me and much like the past three years I will be working again (tried to get it covered and I got nothing but bullshit). I mean, they know when it is and just about everyone else gets off on their birthday so why not me? Haven’t I done enough? To make matters more stressful I’m in the middle of a seven day work week (what are weekends?) and I’m already starting to feel pretty busted up cause of all the table carrying we’ve had to do lately with Mother’s Day and all. I’m just really tired of it and I need to start rethinking my territory ASAP otherwise I probably won’t make it to 23. I kind of want to go to film school or something because I like writing screenplays and shit but lately I can’t even do that!

Well, if you read all of that then thanks. I didn’t mean for it to turn out this long. I’m usually pretty mellow but I guess my lack of complaining built up to this monstrosity. Plus, I’ve had a few beers so that’s probably doing the talking for me right now. I’ll leave you with this cool tune by one of my favorite songwriters at the moment, the great Terry Reid singing To Be Treated Rite.

Let us rock in peace…

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The last time I was at this restaurant in Red Bank, it was St. Patty's day. Tk was MIA, DM was too drunk to function, J was sitting on the curb sick, and C was yelling at me about not fulfilling my responsibilities as the group mom, because R was climbing the side of the building. Lol best St. Patty's day ever.

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Alright, since work is dead and my boss is off grocery shopping, I figured I would take a second to ask a favor from those of you who read this blog. It would be really awesome if you all would subscribe to the blog! It would be great knowing that people follow us. I mean, i check stats a lot, but it doesn't give us much information. Also, if you want to know more: Ask us some questions, leave us some comments, and I promise you you'll get a response! Like us or hate us, I don't care. Just tell us what you think *smiles*. You can email us at myjerseyboys@gmail.com or find us on twitter @myjerseyboys. My personal twitter is @awkwardgirl45, char is @CharCharCharD. I'd tell you J and C's twitter accounts, but I'm not sure if they want that to be public knowledge, I haven't asked. So yeah! Send us a line or two! It would make my day!

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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Hello all!

I've noticed in recent weeks that the boys and I have started drifting away from telling stories. Which I’m not sure why we have been? There are plenty of stories to tell still. I think part of the reason we have only been posting short (or not so short) thoughts, pictures, and videos is because the end of the semester is here. Which is a stressful time for all of us; right now I have five papers to write… I’ll get them done on Sunday and Monday… Anyway, since I have devoted some time to write a story, I figured I would write about last night.

Friday’s aren’t usually busy days for me. I spend most of the day hanging out at home until I have to go to work. This brings me to the one thing I don’t really understand about the restaurant I work at. How is it that the only person who works there, that is over 21, gets stuck working every Friday night? I mean, really? Can’t you get the kids who are still in high school to work Friday nights? I’m 22, and I’ve paid my dues. I should be able to go out on the weekend, not work my ass off until ten o’clock at night. Make me work during the day! I don’t do shit!

Anyway, getting back on topic… sort of… I work for a family run Greek take out restaurant. I love working there, I really do. Except when it starts cutting into my fun time, like it did last night. At every job I’ve ever worked at, I always somehow end up being the person who does ALL the work, while my co-workers fuck around and do nothing. I start working on side work around 8:30, so I can be done with everything by 10. Plus I’m the only one who legitimately cleans the restaurant… Like I wouldn’t trust our bathrooms if I haven’t closed in a few days… Oh and the five second rule? Yeah, you don’t want to do that there either. I’m pretty much the queen of the five second rule, and even I won’t attempt that there.

Last night was a pretty hectic one for our restaurant. We were constantly getting orders for takeout and delivery, as well as having a stream of people coming inside and eating. Normally that would have been awesome, if I wasn’t trying to get out of there at exactly ten o’clock, so I could make it to Treasure Buried Here’s show (http://myjwerseyboys.blogspot.com/2011/04/little-shout-out-to-our-friends-in-tbh.html) in Long Branch… Which is 30 minutes away from where I work, and they were going on at 10:30. So I was kind of pushing my luck to begin with.

I had most of my side work done by 9:15; all that was left was putting the chairs on the tables, and sweeping at mopping. To kind of waste time, I was folding silverware at the counter, impatiently tapping my foot, because I’m not allowed to put the chairs up till 9:30. As luck would have it, customers came in at 9:27… I took their order, hoping they would be ordering for takeout, only to be disappointed at the end when they announced that they were going to stay. You can ask any one of the boys, when I know I’m going to be late for something, my irrational girl switch flips on. I hate being late. I think it has something to do with the fact that my mother made me late for pretty much everything as a kid, and I grew up not wanting to be like that. So I went and had a smoke break, and returned back to the restaurant to find it vacated. Apparently they changed their minds about staying halfway through eating their meal. This is pretty much why I hate people. *laughs*

The next hour was spend rushing to sweep, and leaving the delivery driver with the mopping and chairs… Seriously, I did ALL of the side work. All he had to do was mop and put down chairs. I don’t feel that guilty about leaving the work for him. He is constantly screwing me over, so this was just me kind of returning the favor. I wouldn’t normally condone doing something like that, but even I make exceptions. The next thirty minutes was spent flying down the parkway, and hitting every. Red. Light. Also, I smoked the majority of my cigarettes on the drive down.

Luckily, I made it to the show without getting pulled over! Seriously, this is kind of a miracle, because I broke a lot of traffic laws on the way down. The show was epic, if any of you have a chance to see Treasure Buried Here live, I suggest you do it. Their front man is a rock star. J, TK, and I all discussed this fact after the show. The guy jumps off stages, gets into people’s faces, stands on tables, breaks the occasional mike… Every show has been an adventure, plus the music is awesome. They are going to be playing at the Court Tavern next Sunday, May 15th. You’ll probably see a few of us from the blog there. We usually make an appearance. Plus it’s the last show I’m going to be able to go to for a while.

Something that came to my attention last night that I figured I would bring up real quick. No, I am not moving back to Colorado. Ever. I’m just going back to visit my mom for a month… As much as I love my mom, I don’t even want to go back for a month. I would rather be shot with a paintball gun at close range, with no protective gear on, for an hour, than move back to Colorado. To all my friends, and my awesome cousin, who might possibly read this and say, “What the fuck, B!” You know I love you, but Colorado sucks and we all know it. I’m just saying. I’m in Jersey for the long haul. I swear it. Even on the very slim chance that I don’t continue living with my family, I’d still live here in Jersey.

Aaaaand I just realized that it’s 1:30, and I have work at 2… Shit. Well, I can’t continue this story, unfortunately. Although it ends with chugging two beers, teaching the semi-childish/bitchy “Your Team” game, my phone being dead, trying to follow TK home and having some issues there, because lights kept screwing me over. Eventually getting to TK’s house and playing a few intense games of slappers only/throwing knives with J and TK. I had some difficulties along the way, but it ended up being a pretty awesome night. Shit, it’s 1:36! Gotta run!

Peace & Cigarettes,
B

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http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2011/05/the-sad-reason-we-reason/

-Jonah Lehrer

Let me tell you about a classic psychological study that I don’t believe. In the early 1980s, Amos Tversky and Thomas Gilovich began sifting through years of statistics from the Philadelphia 76ers. The psychologists looked at every single shot taken by every single player, and recorded whether or not that shot had been preceded by a string of hits or misses. All told, they analyzed thousands upon thousands of field goal attempts.

Why’d they do this? Tversky and Gilovich were interested in testing the “hot hand” phenomenon, which occurs when NBA players are convinced that they’re hot, on a roll, in the zone. (The sports cliches are endless.) While players, coaches and spectators were convinced the hot hand was real, the psychologists knew that humans are notoriously bad at detecting streaks. After all, we’re the same species that gets convinced we’re playing a “hot” slot machine.

After analyzing all the shots of the 76ers, the psychologists discovered that there was absolutely no evidence of “the hot hand.” A player’s chance of making a shot was not affected by whether or not their previous shots had gone in; each field goal attempt was its own independent event. The short runs experienced by the 76ers were no different than the short runs that naturally emerge from any random process. Taking a jumper was like flipping a coin. The streaks were a figment of our imagination.

The 76ers were shocked by the evidence. Andrew Toney, the shooting guard, was particularly hard to convince: he was sure that he was a streaky shooter, and went through distinct “hot” and “cold” periods. (Toney is still regarded as a great clutch player. Charles Barkley has called him “one of the best kept secrets in the history of the NBA.”) But the statistics told a different story. During the regular season, Toney made 46 percent of all of his shots. After hitting three shots in a row – a sure sign that he was now “in the zone” – Toney’s field goal percentage dropped to 34 percent. When Toney thought he was “hot,” he was actually freezing cold. And when he thought he was cold, he was just getting warmed up: after missing three shots in a row, Toney made 52 percent of his shots, which was significantly higher than his normal average.

But maybe the 76ers were a statistical outlier. After all, according to a survey conducted by the scientists, 91 percent of serious NBA fans believed in “the hot hand”. They just knew that players were streaky. So Tversky and Gilovich decided to analyze another basketball team: the Boston Celtics. This time, they looked at free throw attempts, and not just field goals. Once again, they found absolutely no evidence of hot hands. Larry Bird was just like Andrew Tooney: After making several free throws in a row, his free throw percentage actually declined. Bird got complacent, and started missing shots he should have made.

Why, then, do we believe in the hot hand? Confirmation bias is to blame. Once a player makes two shots in a row – an utterly unremarkable event – we start thinking about the possibility of a streak. Maybe he’s hot? Why isn’t he getting the ball? It’s at this point that our faulty reasoning mechanisms kick in, as we start ignoring the misses and focusing on the makes. In other words, we seek out evidence that confirmsour suspicions of streakiness. The end result is that a mental fiction dominates our perception of the game.

Here’s where things get meta: Even though I know all about Tversky and Gilovich’s research – and fully believe the data – I still perceive the hot hand. I can’t help but watch the NBA playoffs and marvel at the streakiness of shooters, from Kobe to Rose. (Personally, I’d love to see an analysis of Ray Allen. If that man doesn’t show the hot hand, then it really doesn’t exist.) And I’m not alone in my stubborn skepticism. Red Auerbach, the legendary coach of the Celtics, reportedly responded to Tversky’s statistical analysis with a blunt dismissal. “So he makes a study,” Auerbach said. “I couldn’t care less.”

The larger question, of course, is why confirmation bias exists. This is the sort of mental mistake that seems ripe for fixing by natural selection, since it always leads to erroneous beliefs and faulty causal theories. We’d be a hell of a lot smarter if we weren’t only drawn to evidence that confirms what we already believe.

And this leads me to a fascinating and provocative new theory of reasoning put forth by Hugo Mercier and Dan Sperber. In essence, they argue that human reason has nothing to do with finding the truth, or locating the best alternative. Instead, it’s all about being able to argue with others:

Reasoning is generally seen as a mean to improve knowledge and make better decisions. Much evidence, however, shows that reasoning often leads to epistemic distortions and poor decisions. This suggests rethinking the function of reasoning. Our hypothesis is that the function of reasoning is argumentative. It is to devise and evaluate arguments intended to persuade.

In the most recent edition of Edge.org, there’s a great conversation with Mercier, now a post-doc at Penn. Mercier begins by explaining how the argumentative theory of human reason can explain confirmation bias:

Psychologists have shown that people have a very, very strong, robust confirmation bias. What this means is that when they have an idea, and they start to reason about that idea, they are going to mostly find arguments for their own idea. They’re going to come up with reasons why they’re right, they’re going to come up with justifications for their decisions. They’re not going to challenge themselves.

And the problem with the confirmation bias is that it leads people to make very bad decisions and to arrive at crazy beliefs. And it’s weird, when you think of it, that humans should be endowed with a confirmation bias. If the goal of reasoning were to help us arrive at better beliefs and make better decisions, then there should be no bias. The confirmation bias should really not exist at all.

But if you take the point of view of the argumentative theory, having a confirmation bias makes complete sense. When you’re trying to convince someone, you don’t want to find arguments for the other side, you want to find arguments for your side. And that’s what the confirmation bias helps you do.

The idea here is that the confirmation bias is not a flaw of reasoning, it’s actually a feature. It is something that is built into reasoning; not because reasoning is flawed or because people are stupid, but because actually people are very good at reasoning — but they’re very good at reasoning for arguing. Not only does the argumentative theory explain the bias, it can also give us ideas about how to escape the bad consequences of the confirmation bias.

Needless to say, this new theory paints a rather bleak portrait of human nature. We like to think of ourselves as rational creatures, blessed with this Promethean gift of being able to decipher the world and uncover all sorts of hidden truths. But Mercier and Sperber argue that reason has little to do with reality, which is why I’m still convinced that those NBA players are streaky when they’re really just lucky. Instead, the function of reasoning is rooted in communication, in the act of trying to persuade other people that what we believe is true. We are social animals all the way down.

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The following is an article by Henry Abott of ESPN.com. It's really interesting (at least to me):

People insist on believing the hot hand is common -- evidence be damned!

It's consistent with something else researchers have uncovered about the human psyche: We often see patterns where, in fact, there is randomness.

I'll give you an example. (And if you're a backgammon player, I suspect I can even make you believe in it.)

My dad and I have played backgammon for about three decades. Our playing experience has been a nearly perfect model of randomness, in terms of rolling dice. For starters, each player normally gets his own set of dice. In addition, we have played with all kinds of different boards, all over the world. (Off the top of my head, we have played in Oregon, New Jersey, Ecuador, England, France, Italy, Nepal and on some planes, too.) The dice ain't rigged, in other words. I would bet my dog that some spy satellite that had tracked all the roles in all the games we have played would find just about perfect randomness. (Which would look like this.)

But -- that satellite would frequently catch my dad pointing out how oddly often it is that one player gets a certain roll the next player immediately rolls the very same thing.

The chances of a three and a four being followed by another three and a four are slim. And yet ... it happens a lot.

Now that I have told you that, I promise you'll notice it, and when you do, my dad will have infected your brain with the virus of seeing trends where they do not really exist.

Here's the deal: You'll only ever think about this when you want to confirm it. You'll play backgammon and roll and roll, game after game, and forget I ever mentioned it. Then it'll happen a few times here or there, and you'll think: Henry's dad was right. It's happening.

Never mind the fact that, when it didn't happen for ages, you had perfect proof that, in fact, my dad was wrong. This is not magic, but the same boring old randomness you'd expect from all those different dice being rolled in all those different conditions. My brain delights in discovering identical rolls in sequence -- ah ha! And yet, you'd need that spy satellite to really count up how often it didn't happen before you really call it supernatural or anything like it. 'Cause one thing that's for sure is that you didn't keep track or even notice all the times it didn't happen. (And another thing that's for sure is that if you do count up all those rolling dice, for long enough, you'll find it's not true. A thousand grad students have done this a zillion times before you. A good die is the very definition of random.)

In hoops this means that we see people make two shots and miss the third all the time. I know that's true, 'cause it has been counted. Look it up for yourself in the play-by-play data right here on ESPN.com if you'd like.

But indeed ... once in a while some dude hits two shots and then a third or a fourth. And the way we're wired, only then do we open up the "hot hand" evidence lockers in our heads.

Here's the new twist, however, to this old tale of what they call "confirmation bias." Why on earth, some researchers have been asked, would our brains have evolved to have this sophisticated way of misleading us? Why would we be literally designed to fool ourselves?

The new theory they have come up with is: Because we didn't evolve to discern truth. We evolved to win arguments. In other words, my dad's brain is prosecuting a case. It goes through reams and reams of data like a first year associate -- ignoring most everything looking for that little kernel of this or that which might sway judge and jury. Who cares those double threes were followed by a five and a six?

Then you find that one little thing and throw a party. A five and a six followed by a five and a six! This is just what you needed! Remember this, and bring it up when you need it! Who cares if it's true, it'll carry the day. It's more than enough evidence to win an argument and impress your friends.

And I guess, if we're getting all biological, the idea is that winning arguments then increases your ability to procreate, which is why we have been naturally selected to have this arguing skill. (But that's all kind of theoretical, okay? 'Cause I'm talking about my dad.)

The idea, I guess, is that we're entering a different era now, where there really are spy satellites, grad students, or assistant coaches counting and tracking all those things human brains gloss over, like missed shots and boring dice rolls. Nowadays, if you want to win that argument, you need more than cool observations and "ah ha" moments. You need a laptop, too.

D

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Just a little something for you guys to digest...is it weird that someone would have a Chewie/Leia fantasy aboard the Millennium Falcon?

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Breaking news...

According to SidmasterSid, Derek Jeter is a member of the team of NAVY SEALS that killed Osama Bin Laden this past weekend. In fact, it was his shot that killed the terrorist leader. This may explain Jeter's struggles for the Yankees the last two seasons. NAVY SEAL training is extremely rigorous and may have taken its toll on Jeter's baseball career. If Jeter plays better at any point in the future, it will100% re-reconfirm his status as a NAVY SEAL. It is the only explanation for his play in the recent past.

D

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Sharing my love of Star Wars with you with the original trailer....

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In honor of today:

http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2011/05/may-the-4th-be-with-you-could-han-shoot-second/

Enjoy.

D

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I wanted to add something to what B wrote yesterday about the Bin Laden news. Obviously, I agree with her that he got we deserved. Additionally, what if we had captured Bin Laden alive? Imagine the drama that would have ensued if he were put on trial Nuremburg-style.

However, I think it's important to remember that a human life is a human life. Unlike some of our enemies around the globe, we as Americans have respect for human life. For example, our military does not shoot at unarmed enemies if they are surrendering, no matter how heinous their crimes may be. We should all take pride in this.

I like referencing movies in times like these, so I here will call upon Batman Begins. After training with the League of Shadows, Bruce Wayne is told to execute a farmer who murdered his neighbor. Wayne refuses, and he explains that valuing and protecting life is what makes us special. It is what separates us from those who fight against us. It is the line that we won't cross no matter what the circumstances. Its importance lies in the strength it gives us to fight through hardships, even when common sense calls for revenge.

America is a country of virtue. We stand up for liberty, equality, and the sanctity of human life even when it is difficult. Take pride in that.

D

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There's been a lot of talk today about Osama. About how after ten years, Americans finally got justice. Then there are some people who think we've taken this too far. That we shouldn't be serving an eye for an eye justice. To that I say, this. "Man". Was. A. Mass. Murderer. (If you can even consider him to actually be a man, or even to be human in the first place. To me he's just the scum of the earth) Do really think it would be a good idea to keep him alive? Seriously, he could still contact his network in prison. You know what, I wish they would have caught him alive. So they bring him to ground zero, hand every family member who lost someone that day a baseball bat (Because baseball is an American sport), and just let them have at it. There would be no chance of an escape for him. Afterwards, we would all eat apple pie. Maybe you think what I'm saying is harsh, or going too far. Maybe you're right, but Osama got what he deserved. I'm gonna take it one step further, to me Osama is up there on the list of shitty people who did deserve to live on this Earth. That is all... Except the news clip of President Obama... Who else has messed up today, accidentally saying "Obama" instead of "Osama? Come on, you know it's happened.... And a clip of Christopher Titus reminding you why you should not fuck with a nation that needs medication... Also, how pissed do you think President George W. Bush is, that President Obama was the one to bag Osama?

Peace & Cigarettes,
B


P.S. AMERICA! FUCK YEAH!

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At 10pm last night, I was watching the Mets/Phillies game on ESPN with a few friends when I saw the ticker at the bottom of the screen flash that President Obama was going to make an unscheduled speech at the White House. By the time the President spoke at 11:30, the entire world knew what he was going to say. When I heard the news, I thought about how long 10 years really is. 10 years ago, we were in 7th grade. 10 years ago, the Yankees were going for their 4th straight championship. 10 years ago, college was on the horizon.

It is now 10 years later, and I am graduating from college. Moments ago I found out where I am going for grad school. I know all the other letters (our group of friends) are thinking about post graduation as well. B is right to question the future because the past seems so distant in hindsight. So much of our lives have been about going to college and then getting through college to the real world*. So what's next?

*It's comforting to know that the real world begins at 22. The first 21 years were all rainbows and ice cream.*

D

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The babies in Rugrats don’t exist! As a product of Angelica’s environment, her imagination became the premise of the show. Her mother’s neglect and belittlement of Angela combined with her relationship with her shallow and parasitic father forced Angela to cope with inexorable issues. In reality, Chuckie died along with his mother, explaining Chaz’s abashed and apprehensive behavior. As a stillborn, Tommy compelled Stu to sit in the basement making toys for his son. On the other hand, the DeVille’s abortion meant Angelica knew of the baby but not the gender. Thus, she invented the same character as a female and male gender and both comfortable with interchanging their gender roles. Her only true friend is Susie, who grounds her to reality.

When I came to this conclusion, I was deeply disturbed and distraught. Although I still enjoy watching the show, this revelation now taints the fond memories I had sitting there and rooting for Tommy the stillborn baby or Chuckie the boy with so much potential.

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This might be the epitome of insanity...or maybe it's just me.

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