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It seems that despite being born in a Spanish speaking country, having gone to school solely in Spanish for 3 years, having Spoken only Spanish at home my entire life (21 years), and having taken Spanish classes throughout elementary, high school, and a semester in college, still doesn’t qualify me as knowing Spanish according to Tyler.

In his deeply distorted mind he believes that the verb “gustar” means to please. While I will admit that depending on the context it does mean that, he would apply that meaning to the translation of:
“A Hanly le gusta la muchacha.” thus making it “The girl pleases Hanly.” This translation completely redefines the meaning of the sentence giving it a sexual undertone and changing the structure from Hanly liking the girl (the correct meaning) to the girl pleasing Hanly (Tyler’s translation). Even applying it to the mother tongue of all romance languages Tyler’s translation would not make sense. For example this sentence in Latin would be “Hanly amat puellam.” Which would of course be translated into English as “Hanly likes(or loves) the girl.” The subject of the sentence being Hanly and the girl taking the singular accusative ending of -am because she is the direct object of Hanly’s love or liking. I’m sure he would argue that this is Latin and not Spanish, but the “A” in the beginning of the Spanish sentence preceding Hanly clearly makes Hanly the subject of the sentence stating that Hanly is the one doing the liking and not the girl. The girl of course being the direct object of Hanly’s liking.

My translation is of course wrong since I am completely inept and unable to speak my own country’s language. Does this mean that I communicate with my family through a telepathic link? Tyler of course, with his much higher standards, 4 years (a generous assumption considering he might have taken fewer years of it) of Spanish classes, and an inability to properly enunciate Spanish words, knows more Spanish than I could ever hope to learn. Debido a esto estoy avergonzado de haber nacido en Cuba y no saber hablar mi propio idioma. En verdad es un gran insulto no solamente a mi, pero a mi familia que venga este chiquito a decirme que yo no se hablar mi propio idioma. Que se valla para casa del carajo y me deje tranquilo este chiquito que se tira los peos mas altos que culo.

—Disculpenme por mi vulgaridad en esta explosión de mi temperamento sarcástico cubano.

You know Amazon has it all when they start selling caskets online, and they are relatively cheap I assume. You can also get 50% of casket furniture with coupon code CASKET69. I’ll take mine with a sofa, a reading lamp, and oh how about an alarm clock radio I case I ever need to get up. Now, I understand the need to expand business offerings, but caskets from Amazon…that’s just too creepy.

It’s funny how customers also bought a shovel to go along with their caskets. I guess in this tough economy you have to do it yourself and bury the deceased in your backyard to save on cemetery costs. I for one would rather be mummified.

casket, amazon, product, funny

About a month ago or so my neighbor and I signed up for the Wisconsin Entrepreneur 100 hour challenge, in which we were given $15 worth of our choice of UW-SWAP items to create something: creative, innovative, or artsy. We started off with this vacuum chamber, an old analog balance, and several pieces of chemistry glassware. We had decided on making a Rube Goldberg machine in which a diet coke and mentos reaction inside the vacuum chamber would release the gas and cause a ping-pong ball to shoot up a thick buret like cylindrical tube and start a series of other actions which would in the end cause a light to turn on. Needless to say that there were several unfortunate accidents in which the large buret like cylinder shattered. We gave up and kept the pieces. I stayed with the vacuum chamber, a 240V electric motor, and a distillation flask which I now use to water my plants…yes people look at me weird when I go fill it up in the bathroom.
The vacuum chamber sat in the way for some time, until after reading the lifehacker RSS feed the other day I got the idea to make it into a terrarium. So today after work I went into the woods with several bags looking for moss, rocks, bark, and some dirt. After several strange looks from people as I dug and bagged my materials I finally had everything I needed. I headed back to the dorm and built my terrarium. Below is a gallery of the finished project.

These past couple of days I’ve been wishing I were home basking in the great Florida sunshine, instead of being up here dealing with the Wisconsin cold. Tomorrow after 11:00 AM, when my last class for the day ends, spring break begins however, for me it is more of the same. I wish I were going home, but in all honesty one week worth of sunshine is not nearly enough for me to spend upwards of $300 to fly home. Especially when all I have to do is bear it out for the remaining half of the semester. Thinking of home, I couldn’t help but play “Welcome to Miami” by Will Smith, since it is the song that plays in my head as I debark the plane and exit the terminal into the warm, sunny, and azure sky filled city that has been my home for nearly 14 years. I never thought I would be thinking this, but I miss Miami. After wanting to leave it for years, now that I have, I actually miss it.

Sometimes I wish I were a pigeon. Yes, a pigeon! Those vile ratlike creatures of the skies, the sidewalks, the trees, the power lines. Those torpedoes of biological warfare;Those ugly gray things which seize any opportunity to leave their mark on your car and sometimes your head. Why might I want to be one you ask? That’s easy, they have no worries. If I were a pigeon I wouldn’t have to worry about finishing my homework, the paper that’s due next week, the midterms, the pre/post lab reports, the book I have yet to read, what my GPA is, or what I’m going to make of my life. Pigeons don’t have to worry about complex human emotions, human social interaction, fear of failure, fear of the unknown, fear of being left out. Being a pigeon must surely be good.

Pigeons have but a few simple worries, eating, mating, and surviving. Although one might argue that humans follow the same directive, it is not the same by a long-shot. Pigeons simply need go near a trashcan, and a full buffet awaits them: fries, chocolate, chips, burgers, tacos, anything. Pigeons simply have no trouble acquiring food considering how affluent we must think ourselves that we throw so much of it out. Mating for the pigeon is not so complicated either. Dance a bit, impress the female, and they’re home free. Surviving however can become quite challenging only if there is a kid with a BB Gun, however, how often does that happen nowadays?

Being a pigeon I would be able to fly around and see the world, I would be able to go home whenever my heart desires. I would be able to escape, to be free. Being a pigeon I surely wouldn’t worry about much, considering the size of the pigeon’s brain. If I were a pigeon I would live completely ignorant. However, I am not a pigeon. I am sure pigeons must have their own troubles, but we just can’t fathom them. Nevertheless, how big can the problems of a pigeon be, when they essentially carry all of the diseases of the world and can kill anyone.

I wish I were a pigeon.

I suppose you always need a hello world post.