I rant Pages 61-70

50-60

I rant pages 50-60...wow what a facinateing time period of my life.  I covered my last month in Coral Springs and my first semester in Collage.  For 18 weeks of an utterly life changeing experience I wrote supriseingly little, then again that says alot about how life is up there.  My fist semester held many suprises to me.  When I went to collage I fully expected a replay of my first year of high school, which was a least a year of freindless misery.  I expected to hate it there and be desperate to come home or something like that.  In short I excepted the pain of what was to come and was ready to thrust myself on the blade with my head held high and nary a tear in my eyes.  Well, in short that's not how it worked out.  I quickly made freinds, and not just limp aquaintances that people make in order to avoid feeling horribly lonely.  No I made real hard core freinds who I honestly care for and things like that.  My life has improved tremendously over the months that I have been away.  I'm glad I went, and as I sit here on my winterbreak typeing this up I am looking foward to returning.  Heh that felt like the longest 10 pages of my life.

Happyness

You know I am depressed.  Clinicaly so.  It's no one's fault really, these things just seem to happen.  Over my high skool career I have realized that I am not happy...ever.  There are times of course where I don't feel bad, in fact there were times were I felt great.  These times were however tinged with a black shadow of depression.  Everything I said or did was still affected by that shadow...it was still there I just chose to ignore it.  Things weren't always this way.  There was a time in my life where I didn't know what that shadow was, there was a time in my life where I didn't know the shadow was there, and there is even a time in my life where the shadow didn't excist at all.  For the longset time I thought the shadow would be with me forever.  Then I went to collage.    Collage put a world of hurt  on that bloody shadow.  It was in remision.   Then I met a ray of light named Kelley...alright I just called my girlfreind a ray of light.  *Makes mental note to have someone slap him tomarrow*.   Alright we will do away with the whole shadow thing now.  But yeah that's basicly what she is.   Since we started going out I don't feel the shadow hanging over me at all.  I no longer feel I am standing at the edge of a pit ready to fall in.  She makes me feel like I am on firm ground and not about to fall into a well of depression.  In short, I don't feel broken anymore...oh yeah by the way I got a girl freind she is an amazeing person.

The Dateing Game

The dateing game...that is a stupid saying dateing isn't a game and girls are not mere prizes to be won.  Anyway as I've said before numerouse times I like to write.  The things I like to write though are what I find desturbing.    I like to write sappy love storys.  The problem with me and my love storys is what I was always hampered by one thing, dates.  I had never been on a date before...untill 12/8/01.  That's so sad 19 years old and I just had my first date.    Whatever anyway it was one of the most amazeing nights in my entire life and what I lack in quanity I definatly made up for in quality.  :-P  The exact details of our date is not something that you the reader needs to burden themselves with.    Basicly the evening consited of us watching a couple of movies then falling asleep together.  We watched Natural Born Killers, and Cecil B. Demented.  Many people finds this choise in movies odd but Lior put it best when he said I would expect nothing less from a girl whou would be willing to date you.

I'm to tired to go and get a book from my room

I light a cigarret and take a long deep drag before expelling a plume of smoke out over the empty theater.  It currled over the empty seats and through the cold still air.  The air was always cold in the theater except under the swealtering stage lights of course.  Standing alone on an empty stage in front of an empty theater looking out over in the darkness I can't help but wonder how is it that I arrived at this postion at this time.  Sure I can tell you the facts in a chronlogical and anotated order but what good are thouse if you can't read into them.    That's what I was trying to do now as I stood here.  My life and my world seem to be equaly prosonified by my current predicament.  I move through day after day doing my things for the people to see...and yet in the end this is what it all boils down to.  I work at my job to please my bosses and to make life better for myself and I see now that these actions are just as hollow as me giveing the preformance of my life right now.  Work day in give it your all feel good when you go home then you gotta do it all again tomarrow.  A man can take only so much of that before he ends up here, or at the top of a building looking down, or a crossroads selling his soul to the devil.   Here as I stand here I feel like my hair is being grabbed, my eyes forced open and I am forced to stare back into the icy cold truth that is my past.   As I look at what was once...I almost expected a holywood sponcered single tear to drip from my eye and to be absorbed in the dust at my feet.  5 mintus have passed and it hasn't happened yet, I need to ash my cigaret.  I bring the butt to my mouth and take a pull off of it, the red tip and the end throws a red hue light acrost my face like a promiss for the future.  I give it a breif scowl and look off stage back the way I came.  Back to the world where things were both real and yet terribley faulse.   It is the ultimate stage where people still act like they can shrug it off at the end of the night like a charecter actor at the end of a play.  But this isn't true.   We do things and hurt people and movie on like it's a new play on a new night with a new cast.  I guess the jokes on us then because I know that the play is the same, the cast never changes, and the night is very very long.  At least here the pain only lasts as long as you pretend it dose, and then it fades away.  Liveing in a fantasy world, these criticims were handed down to my by condensending adults who lived in a world far more fantastical than one I could ever conviece...or one that any of us could conviece.   People try thier whole lives to capture what it is to live in this world of ours, so can do it while others can never.  Some people don't even know the truth of it all...sometimes I think it's all just a childs dream.  We recvied our sence of humor from god.  Therefor god must has a vastly superiour sence of humor.   So why is it that I find it funny when people trip and fall?  Enough of scratching at variouse surfaces tonight there is much to be done.

~Suicide note

What that Was Alll About

Some people wonder what it is I write in thouse little books of mine that I seem to carry around with me all of the time.  Well here is something that I was planning on writting somewhere but never ended up getting to my room.    I decided to put it up here so that you can see what it's all about.   Yeah so leave me alone already okay?

One Month

Almost a month has passed since I have updated this monstrocity of a web page.  In all truth I should put this off till latter today.   It is afterall one thirty in the morning and I have mono.  I'm exhaused and stressed out.  For the first time in my entire life I have the vaugly uncomfortable feeling that this isn't all going to work out in the end and something terrible will befall me and that will be the end of that.  This is the first time I've felt like this...not even oreo cookies is helping it any.  They were on sale, two for 5 bucks an offer I couldn't refuse.  I couldn't afford the 5 bucks I spent on thouse cookies...however in the long run I will look back on this night and be glad I did.   I realize that it has been a long long time since I cried.  I mean there was one summer afternoon where tears leaked out of my eyes but I don't really concider that crying.  Crying is that hard core, you standing there and looking funny because despite everything you can do you have no choise but to let it all go.  I realize that I have been blessed, for I have not had much to cry over.  So while it is good that I have not had a reason, emotionaly that is a long time to be coasting along.   Depression has come and gone but I have a sneaking suspician that the only reason why it was there in the first place was that my mind had nothing better to do with it self.  Now I am faceing a real crisis and it isn't being helpful.  Heh life is good.  I think the root of it all is that I miss my girlfreind, it's amazeing how that during this time of troubles she could make me scoop up all my problems and dust them away without really thinking about it.  My best freind would say that this is silly.   You have travled through almost 20 years of your life without her, and to think she has made such an inmpact in such a short time is silly.  Life is silly.  Bunnies are proof that life is silly.  Bunnies and platituses are natures comic releif.   The idea that nature is capable of comic releif proovs that there is a god.   God is silly, he made bunnies...and gave me the ability to say the word catiloopitus.  Satan however made dude where's my car.  God's answer to that is Cecil B Demented.  To all that disagree with me all I have to say is that he works in mysteriouse ways.  This is the way the bunnie hops.  I am very tired, in all the diffrent sences of that word.  I can't even think straigh without a massive amount of caffinee courseing through my body.  I can't afford that caffine, but I buy it anyway.  This is what I do instead of smokeing.  One of my female friends spends more money on cigaretts than food.  There is a drag show tonight, and I missed it.   One the the queens hangs out in the grill a lot, he noticed I hadn't been going recently.  I told him that we are all sick, I'm touched that he noticed.  It hasn't occured to me that I should be worried that a gay person takes an active interest in my presence.  I after all know where my life stands.  I realize now that when I wear my new hat and button my trench coat I look like blade from puppet master.   Over the last 30 days I've sat down at this computer several times to type things on this web page.  Each and every time the words wouldn't come.  Now the words come out like the insane garbleing of a mad man who wanders in a land where flameing elephants are normal the president is a purple midgett t-rex, and he talks of haiurless apes who walks on two legs and wears things called cloths.  Surrealism is something that has caught my fasination.  Comte once wrote the words, "as beautiful as the chance meeting on a dissecting table of a sewing matchine and an umbrella.  The mind in an orderly thing.  I works in a logical procession of thought processing images and blah blah blah...if our mind is so logical then how do we account for surealism.   Or even absurdism.  How can a locical rational mind produce catch 22.  I don't know but it is something to think about as I can't sleep.  The pain behind my eyes is unbearable I'm gonna stop writting now.

Ahem

This seems to be around the time for my monthly update.   I'm not really certain what to write about.  There is so much to say really and most of it would be inapropriate for the web page.  So umm lets see prominate events in my life at the moment include, absolutely nothing of importants.  Yes ladys and gentalmen I am liveing life dangerously.  Of course if I wanted to do something all I would have to do is walk down the hall or send some messages.  Then I could be off doing virtualy anything I want with a group of freinds.  It's just that at the moment I really don't feel like it.  In fact I am studiously ignoring the people behind me.  Oh well, where was I.  I think I will write something productive for once.

PULP

I've written this rant before.  I like writeing this rant though it makes me feels better about my meaningless excistence.  I mean after all pulp is what I write.  It is all I write and hey I like writeing it.  Pulp tends to get looked down upon because it dosn't really get much atension.  Or so I've said before.  Of course pulp has made some writteers rich, look at the new your times best sellers list.  Pulp writters for the most part.  Books made to appeal to the what's left of the massed audience who still reads books.  They are mostly junk food for the brain that dosn't do very much for anyone.  This is the world I live in and it's a good one.  After all everyonce in a while someone who writes to the common people makes it big.  Like Shakespear.  Anyway I'm gonna leave this dead horse alone now and carry on.

Hey Again

Hey there, it's been more than a full moons time since I've had a chance to sit here and write on my good old rant page.  I missed doing it quite a bit.  Well to be quite honest to all of you I am at a bit of a loss as to what to say.  I mean so much has happened to me in the last few weeks it's kinda hard to sit back and take it all in at once.  Well I have some issues to wrestle with so we will take care of that next.

Self Apearence

When I looked into her tear filled eyes and heard the words it's heard to love you when you don't care about your self.  I came to the realization that perhaps it is time to re evaluate my long standing stance on how much care I put into my physical apearece.   First off lets examine as to why the whole not careing thing in the first place.   I got the impression long ago that I wasn't atractive...this came from a variety of sources, everywhere from my peers to my observations of popular media.  However, I was able to realize that people liked me anyway and that I didn't need to take care of how I looked because they just didn't give a damn.  This was a wonderuflly beautiful thing and it was a freedom that I charished.  I mean I didn't have to care.   However, there was a deeper and more important reason.  His name has been lost due to my faulty memory, however he was an ass.  He was the whipping boy of his group of freinds.  The way he gained entrence was by buying the latest cloths, takeing maticulouse care of his hair every day.  It bothered me that his entire self perception was based on the way he looked and that he had the idea that if people looked good people would like him.  It didn't work of course and it was a trap that I never ever wanted to fall into.  I never wanted to wake up one day shuffle over to my clean cloths pile and spend 10 minuts picking out a shirt that will please my freinds.  I never ever wanted to care about how other people viewed me.  To make my life easyer I called myself ugly and there was no point in takeing better care of myself.  It has worked up untill now.  Now mabey it is time for a change.  Perhaps I should start to care about how I look because it will, I dunno.  Mabey it's me giveing in or selling out.  It's not like I'm going to be wearing old navey or anything, it will still be the same black t-shirts. I dunno I've written all of this and I'm just as lost as I was before.  I can't come up with any real reason why I want to make myself look better except that it will make Kelley happy.  I guess that's a good enough reason right there and there is no more rationalization nessisary.

Memory

In my literature class we were recently talking about memory.  Memory is a squirrly little thing and there are some people who's memories work very diffrently from other people's.  There are some people who keep more of an emotional record of the way they feel instead of recording actual events.   For example as a kid I would play fort with myself and the couch.  I can tell you how much fun I has, I could tell you the way the couch cusions felt against my skin, I could tell you about how it got too hot and I had to open air holes, however I can not tell you what color the couch was.  Even though we had to of had thatr couch of years if you put a gun to my head and said tell me the color of the couch or die I couldn't do it.  My mind dosn't seem to record actual data, more of just impresions of things that are around me.  This is something I find interesting and I wonder how many more people are there that are like me.  Because just before I was about to pipe in with these two bits a girl in my class raised her hand and said if you were there you should be able to remeber the color of the couch.

Tourcher

You know recently tourcher has been apearing more and more in the random thoughts that frequent my mind.  Mostly the debate that has been rageing is dose it work or not.  YOu know yes it dose work, it works very bloody well thankyou very much.  However, it is not weather or not it works.  That is not the issue here.  The issue here is what exactly are you trying to use it for.   Tourcher has only a limited usefulness at bestand in order to do it right it would be quite costly, and the gains of such an enterprise are debatable.  First off the type of data that can be extracted are of limited usefulness.  A knowlageable person can extract a ton of information from someone by just makeing them talk.  This includes dialect and slang which can narrow down where they are originaly from.  But other than this instant gratification in order to do this thing right you must slowly and painfuly extract thin information over a series of weeks or even months.  In order to be brutaly effective you must combine a variety of techniques includeing , sleep depravation, sensory depravation, beating, sexual assault, verbal abuse, mental abuse, extream cross examinationing sessions, forceing the prisioner to comit atrocites, the list goes on.  Of course what many peole don't realize that in all likely hood it would be cheaper and more effecient to brain wash the poor sod and put him back where he came from.   This way he can feed information back to you in a far more accurate way than tourcher.  And should he be caught...well it will certainly be demoralizeing to the other side to say the least.

Today

Today was just one of thouse days where you wake up with the alarm clock blarening in your ear and you suddenly realize that the world, and everone in it expects things out of you.  It's a day where you want too roll over, lie in bed and just not move.  Unfortunatly...I had to move, and that just sucks.

Cars

The other day while I was walking from point a to point b a freind of mine pulled up in his car and asked me if I needed a lift.  I said sure why not and when it was all said and done I realized that it would have been faster if I had just walked.  Instead of paying atension in my fanaticaly boring English class I instead began to realize that cars are a tremendouse waste of time.   When people think oh I can just get into my car and fly on over there, something seems to happen within thier brains that causes them to waste time.  They'll spend an extra minut grabbing things for their, pocketbook/pockets.  We go to the bathroom when we don't need to, we walk slowerand in short do a hundred billion useless things because we have the free time to do it.  Then all of the sudden you find that you are late

Money

You know I'm board so it's time to rant again. Money is the topic of today's rant...the root of all evil and et cetera ad nausium. For every who thinks this will turn into an over done account as to how money really isn't the root of all evil, you are wrong. Sorry. This will be about how I spend my money. Yes it will be aobut me because it is my webpage. And the way I spend money is diffrent from the way other people spend money...much like the way I do anything is diffrent from everything. Carrying on. First unlike many things I actually am borderline obbsessive compulsive about the way I manage my money. This is a trait that I picked up from my mom and I don't consider it a bad thing at all. Thanks mom I love you! Yes I am acutely aware of how much money I have, how much I spend it on and where it all goes. The second I realize I can't track where some of it went I drop everything and figgure it out. Money plays a very important role in all of my purchaseing decisions. Looking back that is a stupid statement, but my backspace isn't working so we will all just move on, OKAY? Good. Anyway when I am about to buy something the first thing I do is I look at how much fun I will have with that product. How many potential hours of enjoyment will I get out of it. Then I take that and compare it to other things that I am interested in that are within a similar price range. This would explain why I didn't buy the video game that I wanted to recently. Because I realized that the amount of hours I could spend playing it were in congruent to the price. That and I could get other things that would entertain me more gauranteed. This is also how I determain which movies I'm gonna see/buy. A typical action movie is not worth 7 dollars, I don't care if it is blade 2 I don't want to see it for that much money. THere are much better things out there at a cheeper price. Of course anyone who is my freind will realize that I can be very free with my money. Or at least I try to be. This is because I can't put a cash value on my freinds. They are above that in so many ways. SO when they need money I am always willing to fork over as much as I can because they mean more to me than anything else I would buy with it. Which of course is a good thing.

Drugs

No this rant isn't about the drugs of the hard variety.   This is going to be a rant about our A Brave New World like fascination with useing drugs to make people feel better.  I was thinking earlyer today, alright prozac it works.  I mean, a lot of people like to claim thaty it dosn't because they can't feel it's effects or what not.  But I mean lets face it, A it takes weeks for it to even start working, and b it makes subtle chemical alterations.  It's not like takeing a hit off of a crack pipe.  You don't see people walking around buzzing on Prozac.   Anyone who is claiming to ios suffering from some sort of placeebo thing brought on by sitcoms and what not.  People who stelwartly protest that it dose nothing are probley also suffering from a placeebo effect.  Okay this is fine and somewhat normalish.  Anyway so I was thinking I tend to go through unshakable highs where nothing can seem to bring me down.  When I'm feeling good I can bulldoze the world with just a smile and it's all okay.  My life can turn to dust and ashes all around me and noone of it becomes important.  Why?  Because I feel just plain good.   Of course this isn't a constant thing, there are also times where I go through dismal lows.  Times where I think that the slightest thing mean the end of all that is important and beautiful within me.  I mean you can almost tell when I'm feeling good and when I'm not by looking at the rants on this web page and the fequency of my updates.  Like right now I am horribly depressed, yet I can still smile laugh and feel good because I am still on some sort of mental high for no reason.  The opposite has happened to me buntches of times also, where I would be feeling low and everything is going great.  Of course when you are low it's easyer to turn everything against yourself.  So one day someone said to me, hey I can give this to you to get rid of thouse lows.  Cool.  Lows suck, especially when they are really bad.  But I got to thinking, can you get rid of one and keep the other.  Will my lows be reduced but will my highs be the same?  It's quite a heavy question really, would I be willing to get rid of these abysmal lows at the cost of my sky peirceing highs?   Would anyone?  Well yes all you have to do is to catch someone on a low day and it's all over.  Still.  It begs the questions of wouldn't it be easyer to teach people how do deal with the reached lows so that they can enjoy the greatest gifts of the worlds which are the highs?  I realize that I make myself sound bi-polar in this rant.  Well I'm not.  But I do realize that a lot of times my emotions don't line up with the world around me.  Sometimes it's great and other times it's horrible.  Sometimes it lasts for weeks and other times hours.  When I'm on a high I say I wouldn't give this up for anything and on a low I would give anything to never feel that bad for a long while.  I wonder what it is I really want or which one is best.  THen again what dose it matter.  I made it through adolesence I can handle what ever else gets thrown at me, come on bring it on.

English Literature

You know I was thinking today while muntching a cup cake and exploring the world of "I sold my soul for power and now I miss it" literature when a sudden thought hit me.  What is it that literature professors do?  I mean on a colledge level.  THink about it.  One of the more useless classes I had in highskool was English.  It hurts me to say this, I love all my english teachers very much.  But a lot of them didn't do thier job very well.  The points of english are to teach you grammar, to teach you how to write a coherrent paper, to make you vaugly more cultured, increase your vocabulary, and that's about it.  That's a buntch of goals for one little class.  However it banks a lot on you reading a book and writeing a paper on it.  SO it almost works out well.  But what about on the colledge level.  When I take a master level course that deals ony with James Joyce's Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man I have to wonder what is the point.  Sure it's interesting.  I personaly want to take the class.  But that dosn't mean very much.  What greater good dose it serve.  What could possibly be the purpouse of teaching a class for 9 weeks devoted to one book.  Or two books, or even a single genra, or literature term.  I mean what is the point of me reading 5 books then writeing a couplke of papers on them.  What dose it prove?  What's worse, what can I do with all this book knowlage?  God damn even philosphy majors have a greater and more fullfilling job market open to them than Lit Majors do.  The only option they seem to have is to subsist in thier wierd little literary circles trying to gain some measure of respect...while teaching a class or two on the side.  It's kinda scary looking fowards and realizeing your chosen profession has absolutely no point.  I mean I was planning on teaching high skool, but then I realize that it is so much easyer to teach colledge.  If I become a masters student here I can teach a class.  I get a class all to my self.  If I don't screw it up I get to graduate and come back with an established reputation here at this colledge.  I could work here for 10-20 years and move onto where I want.  *Shrug*  I guess it dosn't matter, there isn't much hope out there for people like me...mabey I should aspire to actually owning a house and buying a new car.  That would probley work out better for me.  I dunno though.  Liveing in a little apartment with a variouse amount of things...it's not so bad.  I see people all around me doing it comfortabley.  I should sleep.

God

No not the infinate being that rules over all of us and the universe, but the girl god.  YOu can go see her in the digital scrap book.   Mabey if I'm not feeling to lazy I'll go like directly to it and trun this pretty shade of black into that annoying shade of blue.  Mayby not.  Who knows.   Anyway she has been persitantly asking me what is the address to my webpage.   I feel randomly guilty for not updateing, espceialy when she askes to see it and I haven't updated it since the last time she asked.  So umm this updates for you.   Enjoy and what not.

Things to Say

Guess what I can't think of at the moment.  That's right things to say.  The only real topics that coem to mind are random words such as yarbles, theorys as to how to achive true horror in a role playing game, and a sudden need for fried chicken which I can not fullfill.  How depressing.  Well my first year of colledge is about to end in a frenzy of exams movieing out and stress.  Lots of stress.  Then again that's life eh?  The need to put on clean cloths have fallen by the wayside as I suddenly become frantic with trying to cram in a few more seconds of reading time for my lit quiz.  Somewhere there is a little voice in the back of my head saying time management over and over.  I swear to god as soon as I can find that power drill that's in my room somewhere that voice is going to get a rude suprise.   What hurts the most is that it's right of course.  It's funny when you sit back and look at how you spent your time hour for hour, how much free time you really have.  And how much of it you wasted doing things that in no way matter about anything.  You sit in the grill eating an overpriced grilled cheese sandwhich and hear the person at the next table complain about how they just spent 6 hours studying.   I know that's mostly bs.  They prolly spent 3 hours studying and the rest on, people who dropped by thier rooms to vist, going to the vending matchine for a quick break, drifting off into space, and everything else more or less.  In short we don't work as long or as hard as we'd like to think we do. Which is why I try not to complain at the end of the semester.  I also try not to say this out loud because it tends to offend whomever hears it.  So umm this is sort of blowing off steam I'm done.   Gonna go back to role playing.

Offense

You know there has been a growing trend in america about offending someone.  Aparently it is dangerously close to becomeing illeagal.   You know what?  Fuck you all.  After all just because it offends you, dosen't mean it won't offend someone else.  You know, this isn't going to end up being very coherent, but I refuse to be muzzled because I might ruffle someone's feathers.   Everyone has a right to get up and say thier minds.  Everyone also has a right to listen.  If you offended well then go somewhere else.  But people have a right to speak and a right to listen, no matter what it may be.  So excuse me if I offend your moral sensabilitys but I really couldn't care less.  If you are not with me then you simply are not.

I am Back From The Long Night

The other day i realized that there was something wrong with me.  I couldn't read.  Every book I picked up I just ended up getting distracted with and put down again.  Eventualy I'd become distracted from it, by something else and move on.  This happens every once in a while, usually while I am makeing the switch from reading to writeing mode.  So I thought that I was in writeing mode, good enough it would give me the chance to update the old webpage.  Unfortunalty it didn't work out like that.  Apparently I wasn't in writeing mode either, ideas would come in great quanity and quality, but they would fizzle and fly away.  Even my attempts to write an e-mail to people or to update this page vanished.  Growl.  To   make a long rant short I wasn't in any mode at all.  I was stuck, then eventualy I talked to my good freind Helena about it, and something snapped inside of me and once again I am fine.  I can read, write, study, update this abombination of a webpage, and everything else I love to do.  Life is good.  Of course I have nothing to say other than this but that will change soonish.

1 Hour

You know I realized something this weekend, I have not been setting aside time for myself. I have been setting aside time for other people, school work, activites, but never myself. This is an unhealthy thing to do and as a result I look rather unhealthy, or pale as my mother put it. Something has got to change, so I'm going to change something. Recently my favorite roleplaying game has just lost it's publisher, this news left me feeling lost and depressed so I decided to devote to them one hour a day, one hour where I would type up things related to thier game and put it on the web, so that way no matter what at least something new would come out for the game. That got me thinking though, if I can shovel away an hour for them I should also be able to shovel away an hour for myself, so here I am shoveling away time, I sit I type and I purge myself of all the little things that make life stressful amongst other things. This is my time and here I am updateing my page, here me roar. Of course I don't think this will recive daily updates, that would be a pain in the ass and to be honest my life isn't that exciteing. (thank god) But I think twice weekly should do it, Tuesdays and Thursdays. I feel excited already.