I meant to post this a few days ago. Lindsey's friend/roommate Emily (mentioned here) has an amazing great-grandmother. She was featured in a segment about her resturant Sunny Italy on UNC TV's North Carolina Weekend. You can view the episode here (click on the one for February 23, 2006). She's 96 years old and still running an Italian resturant in North Wilkesboro, NC. I became very interested after seeing the video, and found an article about Daisy and her restaurant (the second on the page, by Ken Welborn). I love things like this. I hope Lindsey and I can make it up there someday soon.

A cat named Mushkie was used as target practice—shot six times and lived.

My soon-to-be wife wrote this poem several years ago when she was a teenager. I found it the other day. Don't tell her I put this on my site.

Don't know where I'm going
I Don't know where I'll be
and all I know is something
is UP inside of me.

Not quite sure of how it came.
why it did, it's source...
But what I do know clearly is
that it's a strong, strong force.

Because Up is such a good way.
Up is such a right way.
Up's the only way that I should be.

Up is now a new thing
Up's the only true thing
and I know that I am UP
when you look at me.

This from a young girl too far deep in the terrible culture swamp of the mid to late 90s (boy bands, girl power, teenage television love, etc.). I'm not discrediting her; it's very sweet, and I cringed with adoration when I found it.

Here are the Top 10 Strangest Lego Creations.

We managed to watch the last two hours of the Oscars last night. Even though I was preoccupied most of the time with work, I still found time to be annoyed. (As I usually am by such a thing. Curiosity usually gets the better of me, however.) I agree with this article, but I couldn't decide at the time which bothered me more, the host or the audience. I love movies, but sometimes abhor their actors. I guess it's just the extravagance of it all.

I was very surprised that "Crash" won for Best Picture. With all the fuss about it, I had suspected "Brokeback Mountain" to be a shoo-in.

It's not really worth mentioning, but it's been a year since I've tasted soda. Last March I decided to stop drinking gallons of Sprite because I was tired of feeling sluggish. I know caffeine should do the opposite, but too much soda was just bogging me down. I've had nothing but water, milk, and low sugar juices. I felt better after only a week, and doubt I'll ever drink that crap again. I also lost some gripping water weight; my liver and kidneys are shaking hands on this deal.

Now, I just need to do the same thing with meat and self-depreciation and I'll be all set.

This weekend was a busy one, followed by a hectic week which hasn't allowed me to really think or write very much until now. My midterms are over. After insane study, I think I did well.

Lindsey and I went house looking again on Saturday. There is a quaint little house in Albemarle that is also very cheap. We may rent it. The last place we viewed was a dump and made the modest first house seem like a palace. The first house sits among several homes owned by various members of the Burris family. That makes for a nice, quiet neighborhood. The road divides a fairly rural landscape also, dotted by cows and lined with old wooden fences. But it's only a couple of miles from downtown Albemarle (if you'd like to call it that). It isn't our dream house, but it will be our first, and so I'm accepting and happy about it.

Other than the Oscars, we watched Duke fumble at home against Carolina. That's always a treat. And to think of the preseason projections made about the "new team." We lost 91% of our scoring force, and sport a light bench full of freshmen. "Fifteen wins will be a great accomplishment for this young team." I have no idea how they'll do in the ACC Tournament or the NCAA, but I'm very happy with the year so far. It was great to see J.J. Redick virtually scoreless for half an hour. I'm heartless.

Saturday evening my family and James' met at Joel's Seafood in Ansonville. Grampa was there, as was Justin, Alexis, Nathan, Josh, and Jodi. It had been a while since we were together like that. It was a great time as usual. I asked Justin if Alexis would want to be our flower girl. I'd forgotten about her taking on that job at Josh & Jodi's wedding. He said she would. Josh, Nathan, and Justin all again confirmed their roles as groomsmen. Apparently, according to Lindsey, we're suppose to be fitted this coming weekend. I need to call Jeremy and ask if he can make it. He's the wildcard—his choice decides the fate of the rest. If he can come and is willing to be a groomsman, then Nathan will probably fall back to an usher, along with Eric and David. I asked Grampa if he'd be my best man, but the trip to Virginia is a journey for the ol' guy, and he might not feel up to it. I hope he's able to, though, because it would be great to have my last grandparent in one of the most honored positions. Not only that, but I love him and I've looked up to him throughout my life. He's one of the rare few I admit to admiring.

Who knew that a wedding would be so easy to organize? I mean, really—this is a breeze. All you have to do is search through photographers, caterers, and the like, and choose the best ones for the job. Then rent out a place for the rehearsal dinner, the wedding, and the reception. The bridesmaids dresses have to be picked out, sized, and altered. Then do the same for the guys. And make sure they match. Wait, before all that you have to spend 3 months in indecision about colors for the wedding. Then, decide on what type of flowers and decorations will highlight the church. Unity candle? Someone to sing in the wedding? Who? What time will the wedding begin? Then you have to make list after list of who to invite from each side of the deal. Choose invitations. Fill out invitations. Mail invitations. Make arrangements for showers and parties. Spend nightmarish afternoons registering at different stores. Find a place to live. Choose where to go for the honeymoon and arrange all that. Select the food to be served at the reception. Pick out dozens of songs for it, the order they go in, and the DJ to take care of it all. Are we going to have games during the reception? What, when? You have to choose a cake and the person to make it. Find the perfect cake topper. You need to call Jeremy! How is the reception hall going to be decorated? Are we video taping it? I forgot how many hours the photographer is working for us. I think we should change this, I think we should do that. We need to get a marriage license. We need to buy wedding bands. Oh yeah, we have to meet with the officiant so he can confirm our sanity and expel any demons. When are we going to move all my crap from home and school to the new house? I have to get new glasses! Did you say something about a PowerPoint presentation? I hate the way I smile. Are we having our teeth whitened? Will birth control be affected by the other medicines you take? How long can we stay in Nags Head? I have class beginning on the 22nd, so I can't stay too long. Can I stay there for a while longer and meet you back home later?

All of this, and money is a part of nearly everything, too. Plus, Lindsey tells me the above is only half of it—as the boy, there are lots of things I don't even know about.

I wish we could skip all the flowers, decorations, and other frills. Part of me thinks of it as selfish. Why spend a couple thousand dollars on things dedicated to a single day? Sure, it's our wedding day, but there so many things of greater importance. What's important to me is the actual act of marriage and the gathering of friends and family. The reception/party is important to me for those reasons. We don't need to spend several thousands, however.

"Maybe you should consider what girls like. What's important to her. A wedding is different for girls."

Maybe girls need to straighten out their priorities.

Yeah, I said it.

Dear United States,

I apologize on behalf of Albemarle, NC. Please believe me when I say that Kellie Pickler does not stand for us (or at least doesn't represent me). Please do not resort to generalizing; we are not a lowly lot of inbred slack-jaws. Granted, there is a high percentage of those around here but for the most part they're good folk. Now, let's all find that common ground and pray to God that American Idol will be steadfast to its impending demise, as it looms like Death's scythe over the heads of all dedicated to virtue, sense, and plain ol' good taste.

No offense, Kellie. Your fifteen minutes are well deserved and the attention paid to you is a bargain over which all North Carolinians should feel remorse at receiving free of charge. (And especially for not having the ability to relay the fantastic musical, shaking, self-interested show—this overall outstanding, unequalled cultural experience—around the world. Oh, wait!)

"Redial for Pickler!" Indeed, my patriotic, tabacco sucking scholar of the enthused. Let us twirl in happiness, because nothing is wrong as long as we have that Great Diversion, whatever it may be this week. Campaigning for singing/beauty contestants is just as important as that of our estranged polity; your teenagers more readily pay to vote by phone than consider participating in elections that truly shape their present and future.

Geez, I'm sorry USA. Didn't mean to get you down. Don't listen to me anyway, what do I know? All I want to say is that you shouldn't judge Albemarle, Stanly County, or the state of North Carolina by one person. Not me, not Kellie, not nobody, see.

Physically yours,
Brian

P.S. Get a life.

P.P.S. I completely forgot to mention that I saw you last week on your way to work. Man, you looked like hell. Is everything OK? Have you been talking to Vietnam again? Dude, you know she's no good; her whole neighborhood is just...well, I take that back, India's not half bad. She's matured a bit, if you know what I mean! Plus, her parents are stinking rich. She's got the goods, all right. At first I thought you might have ran into that bastard Iraq again, but then I remembered that you're too smart to be fooled a second time. When are they going to get their stuff together and act like somebody? I don't know, either, man. How's Israel?

I still have so much to do with this site. There are more old posts scattered about than I had thought, and I'm trying to pull those in. I had forgotten about things I wrote in 1998, but they're too stupid to be added (that says a lot considering what I write).

I'm itching for a new camera, and when I decide which to get, if ever, you'll see lots of pictures from me. I know how exciting that is but try to stay clothed.

I have 70 days of liberty remaining.

Here is a neat live action rendition of the intro to The Simpsons (found by way of Kottke). Here is a guide on how to choose a cat. Here's an article on the keys to happiness.

Have the Olympics started yet?

Slobodan Milosevic was found dead in his cell this morning. I'll miss you, Slobby.

That's a lot of snakes.

A 90-centimeter lobster was caught in Tasmania. As with the snakes, this made me think of The Simpsons.

MSNBC's "Animal Tracks" has lots of nice animal pictures.

I'm in love with busy weekends, because I usually do nothing but school work. I'm also fond of using commas whenever I please to show pause even though sometimes I shouldn't, technically. Suck on it.

It was nearly 80° Sunday morning when Lindsey and I got up. We hadn't been to Morrow Mountain since October and I was itching to walk among trees. We spent the better half of the morning there, jousting with our walking sticks and being slobbered by dogs. After a few miles of coaxing Lindsey through tall grass and 45-degree rock patches, I drove her around to the other side of the mountain. There is where the Hathcocks have their yearly reunion. Hopefully she'll be able to attend this years'. It's a good ol' time of burnt hotdogs and pretending you know who anyone is. And trying to act like a supreme conservative who brushes his teeth before talking about George Bush.

We then met with Robin Williams' father about another house in Albemarle, but it was suspended from a cliff over a pit of ghetto children, so we declined.

The rest of the weekend was padded with a big family meal at Joel's Seafood, a stop by J. Talbert, and a couple ACC Tournament games. Good filler, I guess. Except for filling out the FAFSA. I hate Internet Explorer.

This week is our Spring Break. I'm at work; Lindsey wanted to come, so she's been here all day, too. I helped several people for the first four hours of work, but now this place is empty. Tomorrow we're going by the bank, I'm going to don a tux for the first time, and we're off to Concord to see Brokeback Mountain before it's gone. I want to see what all the fuss is about.

The best selling children's books of all time. It's divided into paperback and hardcover.

Tara Rose McAvoy died after being hit by a train. The kicker: she was the reigning Miss Deaf Texas.

Lindsey pulled into the service station and triggered the fuel door to pop out. Standing behind it, she pulled out her check card only to watch the fierce wind take it. As she fumbled for the piece of plastic with all the dexterity of an infant monkey, she continued the process of tipping out her marbles. Spinning up and around, her kneecap smashed the fuel door. "AAH!" Balancing time with embarrassment, she quickly grabbed the pump, forgetting to unscrew the gas cap, which she then had to pull off sideways and left-handed.

I love her, but her embarrassment brings me endless joy.

And yes, we still call them "service stations." No convenience stores down here. Heck, some still go to "filling stations."

This is about a person who some call "The Falling Man." It serves as a good reminder.

The Top 100 Overlooked Films of the 1990s. I've only seen Joe Versus the Volcano, The Apostle, Searching for Bobby Fischer, and October Sky

It’s been three years since US forces invaded Iraq. President Bush is calling on the country’s leaders to come together and create a government that would hold the trust of the people. Since the invasion, 2315 US troops have been killed and estimates for Iraqi deaths show at least 33,000 dead. In Belarus, groups protest the recent election; the US “condemns it as a farce.” French students and trade unions protest because they want new employment laws. There are more food shortages in Gaza, but Israel keeps the main trade route closed.

Bush’s new strategy for Iraq is described as “clear, hold, and build.” This new strategy, which some would say is only the first, is different from intentions of only cleaning out the terrorists and moving on to other problems. With this plan, a city would be cleared of terrorists, a group of well-trained Iraqis would hold the city, and the political and economic structure would be rebuilt or reinforced to provide Iraqis with what they need.

Iraqis have more freedom since America toppled Saddam Hussein, but many are in worse positions now because they don’t have security. We’ve heard so much about Iraq over the last three years, different opinions from all sides. I don’t know what to think. I honestly have no clue what the solution is. I’ve sort of grown apathetic to the whole troublesome shebang. I know that’s not the way to go; I believe apathy is among one’s worst qualities. But when you’re continually given little, contradicting, or erroneous information about something, it’s natural. I think more Americans are finding themselves in a sort of uncaring state. We don’t know what the hell is going on (other than American deaths and lots of confusion about oil’s role) or what’s to happen, and we hate the ringleader of this stupid circus because of it. I’m the sort of person who can get along with pretty much anyone. I have my beliefs—religious, political, and all otherwise—but I can tolerate others’, even if it’s the exact opposite of mine. I can discuss, understand, and at least try to get along. Heck, I like to learn about different and opposing ideas. Why can’t everyone else be this way? It makes me mad—not so much at them, but at their situation. I know how different their lives have been. My history, family, and country have privileged me with this sort of understanding. They haven’t been so fortunate. Is that what this war is all about? Are we trying to give Iraqis something like I and most other American’s had and have? That’s what some say, but there’s no clear definition. Where are my paragons and shining examples? I want George Washington back. At least then I would have something to believe in.

Yes, I know this is a dramatic and mixed up ramble. It doesn’t go anywhere, really. But that’s about all I can do with it. Maybe I should really slack off and just become a hippie. Let’s all join together. Everybody, love one another.

Whatever.

Today when I walked in to work, I found that ProtectON has been installed in the open lab. No surprise, I had seen one of the tech staff cleaning computers—running Ad-Aware, Spybot, trying to get rid of Party Poker, that miserable creature. Basically, ProctectON is software that runs on every computer, with a "master" computer that can control all the others. At certain intervals, say once a week or each day, the computers are restored, either automatically by a timer or with the "flip of a switch" from the computer with the control ability. When the computers are restored, they revert to a prescribed set of programs and settings. Any changes students have made to the computers will be gone—programs downloaded, altered desktops, or rearranged shortcuts for example.

Now, this is great. IF the persons in charge know what they're doing. There are several reasons I'm unhappy with what they've done, but the primary reason is no Firefox. I know you're sick of my letters, but they're fun.

It's interesting how people find my site. I've taken note over the past couple days. Here are search engine queries that lead Internet wanderers to this blog:

• brian hathcock (7)*
  
• albemarle nc (4)
  
• sunny italy nc (3)
  
• hathcock (2)
  
• lindsey wedding means*
  
• j talberts albemarle nc*
  
• JJ Reddick and Brokeback pictures
  
• Kellie Pickler Sonic
  
• need new glasses
  
• brian regan pensacola
  
• the kite runner commentary
  
• Sunny Italy, North Wilkesboro, NC
  
• North Stanly High
  
• crap i've forgotten what i was going to do oh wait i've remembered
  
• norwood stanly county
  
• crash
  
• Albemarle Sonic worked boys
  
• Brian Lindsey Wedding*
  
• go my favorite sports team
  
• powerpoint presentations on JJ Redick
  
• Virginia Proctor May wedding*
  
• burris family stanly county nc
  
• Poem "Our Dream House"
  
• sunny italy restaurant north wilkesboro
  
• josh nathan*
  
• selenas death .com and pictures of it and selenas pictures
  
• cock brief
  
• school chums download gay video

84.6% used Google
11.5% used Yahoo

Those last three don't sit quite right with me. Someone also searched for "gay video" using both Blogger's search and Google Blog Search to find my site. Perverts.

*These lead me to believe members of my family have visited this site. You can comment on entries, you know. Let me know you're here. That goes for everyone else.

Adwaitya the tortoise, born in 1750, has died.

There are 18,446,744,073,709,551,616 possible ways to fill out your NCAA basketball tournament bracket. Like lots of people this year, my bracket is horrible. I've filled out a tournament bracket as long as I can remember. The past few years I've also completed the Yahoo! Tourney brackets for fun. Last season I did fairly well (there were at least one million participating). Right now I'm in the 41^st percentile.

There are 18,446,744,073,709,551,616 possible ways to fill out your NCAA basketball tournament bracket

My dad and I were walking at Norwood's park yesterday for a little exercise and conversation. We walked three miles, most of which I thought about Lindsey and our wedding. Within our little park are usually several ducks and other birds. A kingfisher makes the park his home; he's always perched on a few select tree limbs and wires (I saw him swoop down to the water and snag a small fish today). I can't wait for Lindsey and I to have the ability to go walk there whenever we want.

A black car drove by the park covered in toilet paper and dragging cans. I hope they decorate my car like that. I can't wait to drive away with Lindsey.

Kellie Pickler. Pick Pickler! We support Kellie. We <3 Kellie! Vote 4 Kellie.

Enough. I've tired of it. On every storefront in Albemarle, on the backs of cars, in the paper, on the street, on trash cans and signs, and hundreds of lips: "We support Kellie." You do? Are you supporting someone you know nothing about? I read this article and looked around this website and some others. I thought she was a phony.

Listen, people of Albemarle, you have to do your research and open your eyes. Stop waving down the bandwagon when it passes just because. That goes for the rest of this state, country, and world. I'm not right about many things, but this I know. You—we—need to start thinking more. More, more, more.

I wrote a short sarcastic opinion piece on Kellie Pickler, and a few have noticed. I read several blog entries today about Kellie Pickler that mentioned Albemarle, Stanly County, and North Carolina. Many view us in a less than positive light.

I love where I live. I love Stanly County, Albemarle, and my own little hometown of Norwood, NC (less than ten miles from Albemarle). So, I'm going to make these points:

1. Most people in Albemarle are not like the character Kellie Pickler plays on American Idol. Some of us actually care about honesty, fairness, morality, and other virtues, including education.
2. Our education system in Stanly County is not as hopeless as Kellie Pickler might lead you to believe. I might teach within it one day. I can assure you that I'll do my best to sway possible future Kellie Picklers from a dishonest route of self-interest.
3. Although many in Albemarle and the surrounding area pronounce things differently, it doesn't mean we're idiots. There are dialects, localisms, and various lingustic fluctuations everywhere, not just in the little hick village of Albemarle. I sometimes pronounce salmon as sal·mon, too, simply because I'm a country boy. But this country boy knows the difference. If you say Piaget or Vygotsky incorrectly, it doesn't matter all that much as long as you know what you're talking about. The real issue, I guess, is whether she's purposefully pronouncing things incorrectly and pretending not to know what certain things are because that helps her image of an innocent country girl.
4. I'm not attacking an innocent girl. She chose to represent her city, county, and state. She deserves to be studied and reviewed, especially by those who support her and claim her representation, because she now has power—ability to influence, inform, and to be a symbol. (Although it's a shame we have to waste time studying this at all. Maybe everyone should just drop the whole thing.)
5. American Idol is not what you may think it is. It's about money, and nearly money alone. Notice the language used, the methods employed. Take notice of commercials. Please think. Please read books sometimes instead of watching television. Let's all better ourselves. Stop watching this show. I promise it'll go away if you do. Advertisers only exploit what's popular. (From time to time I have watched it to see what the fuss is about. Besides, I can't denounce something I know nothing about.)

Remember, the show is called American Idol. Do you really want people like these as your idols?

An hour ago I was feeling as though I might pass out. I hadn't eaten since 5 PM yesterday. For about an hour I had also endured the smell of pizza someone brought for lunch. On top of that, I read an article in Newsweek about food and dieting.

However, all of that still doesn't tell you how hungry I actually was. This will: I ate gummy bears. I went over a decade without eating gummy anything. They were the only things I could find in the back of the Student Center. I regetted it immediately.

Maddox's The Alphabet of Manliness is the top seller on Amazon, even though it's not to be released for over two months.

Since I'm in the business of caring, I'd like to teach everyone how to walk. I run into this problem quite a bit, nearly literally: when I walk in the park, in malls, in Wal-Mart (and when I drive, especially on highways and interstates), I find that people don't know proper procedure. You should think of aisles and paths as roads; treat them like you would lanes on a highway—you're the vehicle. It's very simple:

1. Stay on the right (→) side.
2. Shift into the left (←) side only if you're passing slower moving objects in front of you in the right lane. Move back to the right afterward.

Two steps. Still, people can't do it. It's OK, though; it motivates me to jog faster.