Badgers Badgers

It looks like the Hepokoski family is getting another Badger. My little sister Laura, who is currently in her final year at Maple Grove Senior High sent in her application to UW-Madison last week...and got accepted this week! Whether she will even bother finish her Duke and Univeristy of Minnesota applications remains to be seen. This turn of events sure makes me feel silly for always pushing the deadlines (and thus subjecting myself to stressful waiting periods), but I can still celebrate with a good ol' Badger dance.

Orange closer to yellow than Cardinal

Two years at the University of Wisconsin – Madison have spoiled me. The campus has not one, but two major student newspapers of reasonably high quality. I was always a fan of The Daily Cardinal, but my preference stemmed primarily from the presence of the fabulously funny comic "Everyone Drunk But Me" by Laura Beth Brandt and the slightly smaller size of the paper. Both it and its major competitor, The Badger Herald had a good selection of news, sports, and human interest stories. (Though not a constant reader I liked the Herald enough to apply for a position on its staff.)

Syracuse University isn't nearly so fortunate. Only one major student paper can be found here, and I suspect this lack of competition is a contributing factor to the overall trashiness of The Daily Orange. The articles are often little more than thinly veiled complaints, the comics are only funny if you are stuck by their randomness, and the sports section is monstrously overgrown (although I realize that this is probably not a bad thing given the readership). As for "human interest" stories - well let's say they take that a little too literally. You can see what I mean in this bit from yesterday's piece "Strap Tease" by Erin Hendricks and Katie Walsh:

Bra Unhooking 101:
- Check to make sure she's actually wearing a bra
- Ease her shirt off
- Feel her up to check on the clasp location

If it's on the back:
- Keep making out while moving your hand to the middle of the back of her bra
- Put your thumb on one side of the clasp, and your fingers on the other
- Pull together, and the bra will unhook easily

If it's on the front:
- Keep making out and move your hand to the front of her bra
- Squeeze the clasp together with your thumb and forefinger
- Twist clasp and lift up on the hook
- The bra will open and leave you with an eyeful of breasts

[...]

What the experts say...
"Whenever I'm drunk and can't speak, let alone get a bra off, I just push it up over the prize."
- Matt Smith, sophomore computer engineering major

"One time I was hanging out with a lady, kind of drunk, and I was looking around for a solid 30-40 seconds for a clasp before I realized it was a sports bra."
- Mike McQueeny, sophomore political science major

"If you're fooling around with a girl who's wearing a black bra and took her own shirt off, take the bra off one-handed. But if you're with a girl who's wearing a white bra and you have to do it all, go with two hands - it'll make you seem like you don't have as much sex."
- Ryan Donnelly, sophomore accounting major

I wish I could say this was anomalous.

Live from the Centro

It's thirteen past one in the morning, and I'm sitting on bus 9950, traveling route 344 from College Place to Slocum Heights via Euclid and Westcott. There are eighteen passengers in addition to myself, and two of them are unbelievably drunk. Both are girls, and I'd wager freshmen (or maybe lightweight sophomores), and they are two of the loudest people I've ever encountered. They've been "singing" (shouting) the whole ride; I recognized "Maria" from Santana's album Supernatural but none of the others. "Jake," who's also had a few drinks but is handling his liquor far better asked them to be quiet, and now they're quite upset with him. One of them is taking a rather aggressive approach, accusing him of being a square, being sexually frustrated, being a closet homosexual (in far less polite terms). The other is trying to get him involved in "the fun," trying to show him how his own evening activities should make him as easygoing as them. Jake's keeping his cool.

The girls got off four stops too early. They had intended to ride to my stop. I'm not complaining.

Bubblicious

Anne sent me some cool soaps, and waiting on my door step when I arrived home this this afternoon was the best smelling package I've ever received, bar none (if you'll excuse the pun). She included a cool print she made along with three bars, all of which I had named as top choices.

Two bars were NatureNate's herbal soaps: Orange Clove (which "has a very uplifting fragrance and lathers up great in the shower!") and Lavender, Rosemary, & Tea Tree with Oatmeal (which "is great after a stressful day, relaxing yet uplifting[...]with the mild exfoliating effects of ground oatmeal").

The third bar was made by Dahlem's Soapworks, and the scent is FarmGirl Clean (a "very fresh and tangy grapefruit scent"). I'm sure Anne took some small amount of pleasure from the fact that I selected a soap called "FarmGirl Clean;" she likes to make sure that her heterosexual white-boy friends (and I'm certainly one of them) remain devoted feminists.

Autumn

On a cool Saturday in September or October, there's nothing I'd rather do that go to Apple Jack Orchards in Delano, Minnesota, eat a few apple doughnuts, find the very best pumpkins for Halloween carving, and then go home to peel apples for my dad's apple pies and crisps.

Nature walk

I undertook a much needed trip to the P&C this evening, picking up the essentials: milk, bread, bananas, and cream of mushroom soup. It was dusk when I departed, and a fog was settling over south campus. My "neighborhood," Slocum Heights, is on the highest ground, and setting out from it was a descent into a wispy cloud. The afternoon drizzle had abated, and the rain that's currently falling hadn't yet begun. South campus is by no means an attractive place; there are no real sidewalks; buildings are built in an almost random arrangement; power-lines mar the little bit of wooded landscape (although less so that the cell phone tower that is masquerading as an amazingly fake looking pine). Despite these short comings, I enjoyed my environment this evening with the fog and the darkness smoothing out the rough edges. Dark had come by the time I made the return trip, and I was using the blue light of the emergency phone as a guide. With my attention so occupied, I was almost on top of the four deer lounging on the field I was crossing before I noticed them. I came onto them once before, but they were much calmer this evening. I must have come within ten meters, and they did no more than watch me carefully.

I've spent the remainder of the evening reading, writing, and snacking on a pumpkin doughnut while listing to the rain.

Meanwhile back in the Madtown

I saw that the Wisconsin State Journal has an update on my former professor Keith Cohen today. I wrote about Prof. Cohen back in March.

Cohen, 60, pleaded no contest on July 28 in Milwaukee County Circuit Court to one count of exposing a child to harmful materials. He was sentenced to two years' probation and 30 days in jail, with work-release privileges.

His jail sentence started Aug. 26 and ends Sunday. Starting Aug. 29, Cohen had been serving part of his work release on campus. He wasn't teaching classes, but he commuted to Madison to work at Van Hise Hall, where his office is located....

"Our goal throughout all of this was to find productive work for Cohen - since we are required by law to pay him - that would keep him away from students as well as staff and faculty," [UW- Madison Provost Peter] Spear said. "Now that our investigation is complete and we have determined that he should be terminated, we have decided to remove him from campus immediately."

The full article is here. I hope the thirty days knocked some sense into the man, but I also hope that he's okay and that his friends among the faculty can forgive him.

Since 1984

Happy twenty-first, Claire!

Centipedes

I've long had a significant fear of centipedes, a prevalent and speedy pest in my parents' home. Over the past five years, I've been working to overcome my fears slowly but surely. I still call for someone else to kill the bugs if the possibility exists, but I've gotten much better at dealing with them when I'm home alone. I started with a broom, worked my way up to a paper towel with rubber gloves on, and this summer was able to get a small one without the gloves.

As no one has come to live in the other bedroom in my apartment, I'm quite alone here. Alone aside from the centipedes, I should amend. So far they've all been in my kitchen, moving back and forth from under the fridge to a crack between the floor and the frame of the door to the outside. I've usually caught them in the mornings, and they've always managed to get back to the crack before I could react. Coming home late this evening (or early this morning, if you prefer), I found a couple when I flipped on the light. I think they were confused by an apparent early dawn, and they froze long enough for me to take them out with two slaps of my sandal.

I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm hoping that if I have to continue to deal with the creepy little buggers this year, I will be able to kick my fear once and for all.

Treading Lightly

I think whoever had this apartment last year must have had a stapler fight with someone. About every second or third day I step on something sharp, and then have to get down on my hands and knees and work a staple out of the carpet. I'm not getting any better at removing the staples - this morning's took be a while to work out - but I am getting better at easing up as soon as I feel something sharp digging into my foot.

A toaster pastry toaster

I'm still lacking a number of things around here, but - thanks to a midday shopping trip - a toaster is no longer one of them. The number of stores I can reach is essentially three: a P&C supermarket, a CVS drugstore, and the school bookstore. The P&C is the only one within walking distance, so if they sell what I want, they usually get my business. I was a little hesitant to buy the generic ten-dollar toaster that was displayed prominently on their shelves, but then I spotted a Toastmaster model selling for twelve, and I had at least heard of Toastmaster, so I went for it.

It looks like most of the shoddy toasters that fill American homes, but hopefully it will last me a year or two. One aspect of this toaster, which was not depicted or advertised on the box, is an odd one, however. Like most toasters it has a dial that controls the darkness of the toast by changing the duration of the heat time. Most say "light" and "dark," or perhaps "LO" and "HI" at opposite sides of the dial as a guide to the user. Mine says at the far end "dark" quite simply enough. But, turning counterclockwise, one finds not "light," but "pop-tarts" in the ridiculous red lettering that was their logo for a couple years in the early part of this decade. The instructions make it clear that this nifty device will handle bread as well as "non-frozen shelf pastry."

I will conclude by passing on to you these inspiring works found at the end of the English-language section of the instruction manual: EVERYBODY EATS. It's a fact of life. But sometimes preparing meals can become a chore. That's why TOASTMASTER has been invited into millions of kitchens just like yours so we can HELP YOU MASTER your mixing, baking, grilling, toasting, brewing, heating and serving tasks WITH EASE AND STYLE. The TOASTMASTER name stands for a CELEBRATION of INNOVATION designed to serve your life and keep you COOKIN' IN STYLE.

Salt City

I made the surprisingly short journey to Syracuse on Monday. Claire drove me to the Minneapolis/St. Paul International airport (far too few days after she picked me up there after the family vacation). I took a taxi from the Syracuse airport to the campus, which was only twenty-minutes away. Syracuse is not a pretty place, nor is the south campus where I live, but the main campus seems nice enough. It, like Madison, was blighted by the construction of the 1960s, 70s, and 80s, but less so, I think. I haven't been able to start my meal plan yet, and food has been my biggest trouble thus far. After some trouble I found a grocery store within walking range. I have to trudge through a hilly field, but until the snow falls I'll enjoy it. (I saw a doe and two fawns this evening on my way back.) I don't have nearly enough kitchenware, but at least I was able to get some pots and pans this evening. I'm hesitant to buy too much, because I still don't know if I'll be getting a roommate or not. The extra space and quiet is nice, but I'm sure having a roommate would be nice at times. One such instance would have been my first morning here. When the toilet turned into a geyser. Yup. Coulda used another pair of hands then.

Silence

I realize that it's been a long time since my last post, but I have a good excuse (two of them actually). I left with my family for a two-week vacation in Northern Europe at the beginning of the month. We've been back since Sunday, but I've been increasingly sick. I had a fever of 102 last night.

Hopefully more regular posting and my good health will be back shortly.

Passing

I very much enjoy the time I get to spend outdoors both on my way to and while I'm at Elm Creek Park Reserve. At the pond we can often hear pheasants in the surrounding grasses and biking home through the park, I often catch a glimse of young rabbits who are only a few inches long. Their youth is very apparent when I pass them, and they dart in three different directions before deciding to take cover in the tall grass, a refuge to which the older rabbits would take immediately.

Even out of the park, I've had some interesting interactions will animals (and people) on my path. Last week, I was biking next to Hemlock lane under I-94, and a morning dove was walking a very straight line right down the center of the bike path. When I neared it, the little bird "pulled over" to the wall on the left, giving me pleanty of room to pass by. When I looked over my shoulder a few seconds later, I saw that it had moved back to the center and was continuing its very linear journey. Later on that same ride, I approached two women who were walking shoulder-to-shoulder, taking up too much of the path for me to comfortably pass. I called out to them in my usual manner of bicycle on your left! The woman on the left attempted to step forward and right to give me room, but she was thwarted by the woman on the right who attempted to step forward and left, apparently mixing up left and right for a moment.

As a bicyclist in a city dominated by cars and clueless power-walkers, I've found the animals to be (generally) much easier to share the roads with. I add 'generally' because the Canada geese are just downright nasty.

Which opposite of quick?

Both the Elm Creek swim pond and the Maple Grove Community Center pool are frequented by a number of mentally disabled persons. Wading in the water is apparently an exciting and enjoyable activity for many of them. In some ways I think they get to have more fun than anyone, since they retain a child-like enthusiasm for such a simple pleasure even after they are large enough to take advantage of the deeper water. Sometimes they require some extra patience, but usually I find them to make enjoyable patrons since due to their obvious joy.

Today I was in the men's bathroom applying sunscreen before work started, and I had the place to myself. I looked up and saw a man approaching my very slowly. His age was difficult to guess, and his face was disfigured. His crooked mouth gaped open, and one brow was enlarged to the point where he seemed to be limited to sight from the eye on the opposite side. He walked with a limp, his arms stretched out in front of him. I wasn't sure if I should move out of his way or stay still to make navigation easier for him. I decided to stay still, but just as the man neared me, another man, similarly disfigured, entered the room, walking in an identical manner. I was suddenly struck by their similarity to zombies of films. Their lifeless gaze, clumsy gait, and outstretched arms made them dead ringers for the walking dead.

And for just a moment - no more than a single second - I was afraid. I told myself that I was being ridiculous, but my immediate follow-up thought was, maybe that's what all the people in the movies tell themselves. But, of course, my instant of fear was silly, and I was glad it did not prompt me to act. The first man only brushed my shoulder with his arm, and I realized as he passed me that he was merely sticking to the right wall in order to navigate the room. I watched to make sure both men made it to the toilets, and then I departed into the summer sun.

High praise

This evening there were a large number of bikes still locked to the rack when I left the pond for home. Several guys (a couple adults, a few kids, all male) were there with me, unlocking their bikes and packing their bags. A kid of about ten was parked next to me, and he watched me unlock my bike, stow my cable in its mount, turn on and attach my headlight and taillight, and clip in my water bottle and computer. His eyes widened and he said to me in an awed voice, Your bike has everything. I have a hunch that's about as high as praise comes from a ten-year old bicyclist.

All that flitters is not a goldfinch

In the late spring there was a beautiful pair of goldfinches that could often be seen around the yard together. The birdfeeder in our youngest ash tree only accepts small birds, and they tended to prefer that one. Since then one of the birds left and the other one has remained. It has a dull coat, but I don't know if that means if it is the female or if the male has lost his bright plumage since the end of mating season. Whichever one it is, it spends much time in the trees or at the feeder by itself, but occasionally comes to peck at our windows. It will flitter at the bottom of the window for minutes at a time, tapping its beak against the glass. At first I thought it was trying to get in, but earlier this morning I saw it doing the same thing to the sideview mirror of our neighbors' Jaguar. I suppose this whole time its been seeing not what's inside, but what's reflected from the outside—namely its own reflection. I think it's a very lonely bird.

Intriguing Product

We had a Forth of July party at work yesterday, potluck style. I brought in puppy chow (the well-known chocolate Chex cereal concoction), which competed with a large number of deserts. Perhaps the best thing I tried was an excellent jarred salsa. I was pleased to see that it was a local product to boot.

The ninth intriguing product is Salsa Lisa.

London, Illinois

Apparently my school selected suitemate Jared London will not be attending Syracuse after all. I talked to his mother this morning, and she informed me that he will be going to the University of Illinois. I don't know what he will be studying. I think I'll be calling the housing department soon to see if a new name is available.

Beginning

This evening marked the official end to my being "single," something that I've been since 23 January 2004. Who has set me free from this label? I suspect any regular reader could guess that it's Claire.