inspiration strikes - a break from the monotony

Monday, September 08, 2008

mattchun 9/08/2008 03:36:00 PM [+] ::
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*TUMBLEWEED ROLLS BY*

In old spaghetti westerns, the dusty, rolling tumbleweed is a sign of desolation. Using my incredible knack for stating the obvious, I'll say it's been a while since I posted.

These days, I find myself doing a fair amount of writing, but for essays instead of blogs. For a while now, I've been toying with the idea of going back to school. I use the word toying somewhat liberally here, as the word implies some degree of amusement. The school applications I'm working on are far from amusing, unless you're say, the type of person who enjoys pounding his forehead against slabs of cold concrete.

So here's the problem with these applications: I've worked as a management consultant for going on 4.5 years now. Consultants seldom use the English language in all of it's radiant, complete-sentenced glory. Instead, we often rely on short, pithy jabs of text, slapped on a screen in Powerpoint. We hardly ever write in complete sentences and even more rarely in full paragraphs. Given this habit, my expository writing skillz have recently suffered.

In any event, I'll be suffering through essay writing for several more weeks. I appreciate the fact that a tenacious few of you continue to stop by in spite of my absence. I hope to be back posting with Metamuciline regularity in the near future.
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mattchun 11/07/2003 03:00:00 PM [+] ::
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MOTHER NATURE MUST LISTEN TO FOREIGNER...

...'cause she's as cold as ice...

"Weather alert: Snow -- that's right, snow -- is coming tonight to central and western Massachusetts and southern New Hampshire. Areas west of Interstate 495 are expected to receive anywhere from a ground covering to 4 inches of accumulation."

After a spring that never came and a summer that was like a mild spring, we're getting a few days of fall before an early winter. This is perfect.
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mattchun 10/22/2003 03:50:00 PM [+] ::
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POST-MORTEM

After corraling a decade's worth of thrilling comebacks into a single season, the cowboy sons of Grady Little couldn't lasso one more miraculous victory.

The game, billed as the ultimate matchup of two hall of famers, was an imperfect contest from the start. The Yankees' Roger Clemens was knocked out early and Red Sox ace Pedro Martinez lacked his signature stuff. Still, Pedro battled and the olde towne team managed to bolster him with an early lead. Through the middle innings things were going well. The Red Sox appeared to be headed to their first World Series in 17 years. Save for two solo home runs by Jason Giambi, Martinez was in control.

The game trucked along, and the clock approached midnight. Pedro was tiring. Red Sox manager Grady Little left his ace in one batter too many and the Red Sox wagon, brimming with passengers, veered sharply. Burdened by fate, or perhaps running out of gas, the wheels fell off. With a nauseating string of hits, the ever-lurking Yankees clawed their way back into the game, which headed to extra innings.

The last inning was pitched by Tim Wakefield, a knuckleballer. The knuckleball is a pitch that dances to the plate, flitting through the air as if buffeted by the winds of fate. An effective knuckleball baffles the batter by fluttering more than flying from the pitcher hand. It is an approach that seems to rely on chance as much as skill. On the last offering of the night, the ball had no flutter, and no chance. Perhaps guided by destiny, the ball flew straight and true. Aaron Boone -- a new generation's Bucky Dent -- sent the little leather orb hurtling into the left field stands. Yankees 6, Red Sox 5. Game over, season over.

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THE ENDLESS CLIMB, THE ENDLESS AGONY

We the people of Red Sox nation, live an epic, yet tortured life. Each passing season, each heartbreaking defeat continues to define our existence as the stuff of classical tragedy.

We were bequeathed with a Promethean gift, a fire and passion for the game. Each spring, we believe with rabid conviction that this will be our year. Yet, unceasingly, unfailingly, fate's heavy hand intervenes. The Sisyphean rock rolls to the bottom of the mountain and the immortal hope dwelling within our hearts is rent apart, only to grow and be devoured anew each season.

"The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor."

- Albert Camus

On days like today, it's a bleak life. Still, there's always next year.
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mattchun 10/17/2003 10:56:00 AM [+] ::
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THIS WEEKEND I...

...bumped into a movie star who was working on a remake of an old Frank Sinatra flick...

...saw a Bill Murray movie that was unlike any other Bill Murray movie I've seen...

...stayed in my pajamas until two in the afternoon...

...ate two of my favorite foods, sushi and ice cream, though not in that order...

...partied like a rockstar...

...spent more time than any man should spend in Bed Bath and Beyond...

...watched the Red Sox go from the clutches of defeat to the brink of the ALCS in the blink of an eye...

...had one of those so-and-so knows so-and-so experiences that make you realize that it's a small world after all...

...realized that getting up at five in the morning to catch a train is not quite as much fun as staying up late and eating diner food at five in the morning...
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mattchun 10/06/2003 05:50:00 PM [+] ::
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I'M BACK...

As they say on the Titicacan island of Amantani, Allillanchu! After nearly two weeks in Peru, I've returned to Boston. The trip was absolutely fantastic. There's so much we did in such a short time that I fear the only way I can encompass even a fraction of what my intrepid group of travelers experienced is in list form, so bear with me as a rattle off some of what we...

...Saw:
a lot of mixed breed dogs, insane drivers, the Karate Kid II on hotel cable, elaborate cathedrals, more ruins than you can shake a stick at, the world's highest navigable lake, skull-filled catacombs, a man-made island constructed of floating reeds, soaring snow-capped mountains, spectacular vistas, beautiful sunsets, stars brighter than I've seen in years

...Ate:
a plethora of pineapple, papaya and canteloupe, sweet potato chips, a lot of lomo (steak), alpaca, guinea pig, a pepper so hot it nearly melted one of my fillings

...Drank:
Inca Kola (tastes like Juicy Fruit gum), Cusquena (beers), Pisco Sours, Coca Tea

...Rode:
planes of varying size, cars, vans, trains, buses, boats -- and one stubborn horse named Conquistador

...Left:
one wool hat

...Took:
various and sundry souvenirs, about a hundred pictures, and many fond memories
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mattchun 10/01/2003 06:22:00 PM [+] ::
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TRUANT

It's been a while since I've posted. For the most part, I've been very busy at work. I realize that work is a pretty lame excuse for not posting, so I'm going to give you a better one: Tomorrow afternoon (Hurricane Isabel permitting), I'm flying down to Peru for a much-needed vacation.

I'm as giddy as a little schoolgirl. I'll be visiting Machu Picchu (gesundheit!), Lake Titicaca (hee hee) and Cuzco, among other locales. If the altitude sickness and political unrest don't get me, I'll be back in ten days.

Unfortunately, that means that I'll be out of the country during my bloggiversary, which takes place on September 25th. You'll just have to throw a kickin' party without me.

See you on the flip-side.
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mattchun 9/17/2003 05:20:00 PM [+] ::
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