My Aunt Is Hot

Two weeks ago I went home for the NEAT fair. I was almost washed away in a flood. The river almost took me away, I was a couple of hours away from being on a Fox show (World’s Worst Unbelievable, Most Extreme Natural Disasters). Since then, I’ve returned to Arizona. I’ve been putting off writing about what it was to go back East.

When I went back East, and I went into my old house, it kind of occurred to me that my house, is no longer my home. I spent the whole weekend fighting old instincts. Seeing the attic door open all the time made me crazy, until it finally sunk in that it wasn’t my room anymore. I miss things. I miss the creature comforts. The ice maker, the Bagel Chateau, a real mattress, quiet at night and my dog. Though my dog isn’t as much a comfort as a creature. Well, maybe some of column a and b.

While I was in town, I went to visit Ashley at NYU. That was difficult for me. Not only in a sense that I no longer can just see her anytime I want, but that I was distant. …Even somewhat foreign. NYU, it seems, is a very different beast from ASU. It upsets me because I specificially came to ASU for a good balance. A balance of work and play, airplanes and girls, school and drugs. I’m finding no balance. My school doesn’t FUCKING PARTY AND IT’S PISSING ME THE FUCK OFF. Part of the appeal I found was that once my work was done I could go party because *surely* their would be something to do. What I’m finding is that once the work is done, I’m bored. I’m alone. I’m in the middle of the fucking desert. While yes, I do have an amazing pseudo family here with the airplane guys and whatnot, I can’t kick back Saturday night and drink a couple beers and watch a stupid movie with them. I’m becoming frustrated.

Frustration. I’m frustrated with myself right now. I’m allergic to tree nuts. This is something I’ve known for a very long time. It’s never posed a serious problem for me. The other day I fixed this girls computer. She lives way, way, out in the middle of nowhere which is conveniently accessible from Tempe. When I say nowhere, I mean nowhere. Like area 51 nowhere, like nuclear testing nowhere, like indian reservation nowhere. So as we’re driving back, she has these amazing smelling home baked cookies. She inquires if I’d like them. Before even thinking about eating one, I ask her if they have nuts in them. So she says no… And I eat one. Did I mention she’s really cute? How could I say no? Guess what…. They were cooked with nuts, or had ground up nuts or nut oil or something equally gay. So I got pretty ill. Alright, I was downright sick. I didn’t let it show though! So what came out of this whole ordeal? Well, I’m getting an Epi-pen so I can inject myself with adrenaline the next time my throat decides it wants to close up. Sweettt. I think this was an omen. An omen of things to come if I keep fixing other peoples computers.

I really, really, really miss cookies. And Tuna Melts. And Subs. And Pizza. And brownies. And pot. And pot brownies. I miss the Lebarron. And I miss my friends. I miss my dog. I miss my family. I miss my own bed.

What’s the point of this post? I don’t know. I cried on a train. It was so ‘emo’. I wanted to write about it. Here we are.

Joshua Ziering

Alright, So it’s been a while since I’ve made a post. If nothing else, this beast of a post will make up for it. I had computer problems and was just too lazy to fix all my website shennanigans.

I’ve moved into Arizona State University. It’s amazing. Arizona truly is the place for me. I live in Sahuaro hall. It’s probably the shittiest of the dorms, but that’s secondary, I spend as little time here as possible. This became very apparent when after taking apart the bunk beds that come with stock with the room. I simply went to lean on my bed, and for some reason, it decided to collapse on me. In retrospect, I should have suspected such stupidity. However, I was pretty fucking shocked to be on my ass and my bed in pieces. I was more shocked that I managed to sleep on it the whole night without it falling apart. I guess it’s true that I sleep like I am dead.

Since I’ve gotten here I’ve made a lot of changes. I guess you could consider them big changes, but I really see them as minor. They were inevitable. Firstly, I stopped all this sleeping that I’ve been doing. I sleep a solid 8 every night … well I get at least 6. Their is a Union Pacific rail line that goes just behind the dorm. It wakes me up at night all the time. I kind of jump out of bed, “What the hell!?”

I also have been doing homework and stuff. Studying, reading, those kind of things. TV is watched but in small commercialess sections. I tivo only the shows I like and then watch them whenever I have nothing to do. Doing homework is something I expect myself to do, so that’s no big suprise.

Since I’ve been here, I haven’t touched pot. Not a single bit. I guess this is somewhat of a contrast from back home where I would often partake of such activities. On the other hand, I never really drank at home. This is .. not the case here. Sure, I only drank once, but it was kind of serious. I made at least one unplanned visit to the bathroom that night. I don’t know how it happened but all of a sudden, I was drunk! Damnit. They have all these funny ways to say ‘you got drunk last night’. “Hey man, You had at it last night” “Hey bro, You got crunked” “Dude, You were going after it last night.” I decided that night, while praying to the porcelain princess I should take it easy on the liquor. I haven’t drank since then either. It may take a while to ‘get back on the horse’.

Since I’ve been here, I got myself a job at Hacker Brushless motors. In case you are unfamiliar, Hacker Motors are the best model airplane motors that money can buy. Hand made in Germany, they kick major ass. I’ve been working there 2 weeks now, and it’s sweet. Essentially my job is this: Build model airplanes in a little tiny room all by myself. Then, I put Hacker motors in the plane, and test them. I spent a good 2 hours testing a plane on Friday by flying it in the parking lot. It’s not a bad way to earn a couple bucks. Also, the perks are outrageous. Their is a video online that’s a legend by airplane nerd standards. This guy is hovering a HUGE airplane, the wind kicks up and he almost hits himself with the airplane. I got to fly that plane! Sweet. (Pictured Left is Said plane. Little brother included for size reference)

However, I’m very careful to keep work and play separate. I made friends with a local groups guys here who own a hobby shop. They are all very cool, and treat me like one of the gang. I don’t know what I would do without them, since I have yet to find some people to hangout with who aren’t alcholics, crazy, annoying, or just plain boring. Their is some hope, but I dislike a large percent of my floor.

Their are exceptions, one is a quaker, their is a group of guys who call themselves the nightlife crew, my roomate is ok, and the guys across the hall are cool. Their are some others, but that’s basically it. I spend all day Saturday at the hobby shop. Of course, I’m their only after a morning of flying. I get up at 6 to go flying. Since flying is only 20 minutes away, a stark contrast to the hour and a half in New Jersey, I feel just AWESOME. Also, the guys at the shop are hooking me up huge with airplane stuff which is nice of them.

One of the guys, Scott is an aerospace engineer, a full scale pilot, and owns the place. He’s REALLY cool, and has (probably unknowingly) become sort of a mentor to me. To say he is ridiculous at airplanes is an understatement. Anyhow, one night he took me to the hangar with him and another guy who owns a polish fighterjet to work on his expiremental homebuilt airplane (that carries people). It was quite possibly the best night I’ve ever had. The cool thing about Scott is that just by hanging around him you learn a TON of stuff. You also get to watch him fly models which is a spectacle in and of itself.

Dorm living has proven difficult. Essentially, if you want to do something other than drink and party (Like sleep and study) you probably should find somewhere else to do it. It’s always loud, their is always white people blasting G-Unit (Something I just don’t understand) and their are always people screaming. The Union Pacific, and drag races just behind the dorm really don’t help the situation either. However, it’s not a bad way of life. It’s beautiful where I live. All I have to do is walk and outside and I’m reminded why I’m here. I’m also reminded (at least for now) why I was inside. It’s fucking hot.

The other day I heard on the radio that Jimmy Eat World (One of my all time favorite bands) is playing a hometown show not to far from where I am. Needless to say I immediately bought tickets. I bought two tickets even though I am just one person. I’m holding out for the fact that I’ll eventually meet this girl who likes the same music I do, and can tolerate a tall nerdy boy with an obsessive airplane habit. It wouldn’t hurt if she was pretty and tall either. I may end just going with one of the girls in my hall, but why not hold out hope?

One thing that has struck a particularly maddening coord with me is that I have kind of a stereo type going on for me. Somehow one of the girls here decided that I was ‘emo’. She decided this based on a couple of things: I’m from New Jersey, I have longish hair, I sometimes wear cool clothes, I listen to some music or something she thought was emo. Apparently being tall, skinny, and not a moron facotred into this equation as well. Anyhow, it stuck. People fucking call me emo now. They even went so far as to deface my door. (Fear not, everyone has white boards, and I know no limits) It’s interesting. I haven’t met too many people who don’t live in Arizona. I feel like the lone boy, Josh from Jersey, here.

I auditioned the first week I was here to be in the Improv/Sketch comedy group. I never got a call back or an email, so I decided to go look at the list to see who got in. During this, they were have a practice and I asked to see the list. They knew who I was and was like, What the hell, you never got our phone call? Apparently not. Anyhow, they picked me up as an understudy. They only picked two other people to by understudies and their were a TON who tryed out. That was a good feeling. It was like proof that I was funny, I suspected it all along though.

Anyhow, that’s a small recap of my life in Arizona. It’s probably just as shocking to you as it is to me.

-Joshua Ziering