Dominik’s Blog

My pet dachshund, Saffire (”Saffie”) Magna Rabiej. Photo taken this afternoon.

Snapped this robin in the neighbor’s front yard while playing around with my zoom lens.

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This is a first draft, freshly written in the past hour. Let me know what you think.

He was in a rush that morning, more than the usual rush that occupied the mad dash from apartment to campus. He only had a few minutes to go in, grab his standard soy chai with cinnamon and then make haste to the stately brick buildings that would occupy the rest of his day with classes. Long stride after long stride, he made his way down the sidewalk, laptop under his arm, dressed in a blue sweater, white turtleneck and slacks. The morning was fair, with a hint of sunshine trickling down through the mostly cloudly skies.

He opened the door to Starbucks and went in, his eyes darting to the menu that hung above the counter. Quickly he found the item he wished to order and recalled the proper Starbucks-speak way to request it so that the barista could fill the order as soon as possible. Impatiently he stood in line as the few people in front of him placed their orders with, what seemed to him, the most careless lack of haste he had ever seen. The first was an elderly man, with what remained of his hair gone a shock white. He had obviously lost his taste for fashion a long while ago, for he wore plastic yellow sandals, a Hawaiian shirt and dress pants. Strange. Behind him there was a worried-looking middle-aged woman, wearing a black business suit and talking in hushed, anxious tones on her cell phone. And finally, right in front of him in line, there stood a young boy, who was probably a freshman at the local college, judging by his proud sweatshirt, backpack and rather laid-back look about him.

The line moved, not briskly, but it moved nonetheless. He placed his order and paid when the time came, and while waiting for it be filled, took a seat at a table and opened up his laptop and checked if he had any new e-mail. Nothing. He closed his laptop again, glad for the high-speed wireless Internet that enabled such wonders of rapid communication and stood at the bar, looking at the baristas with eyes that said, would you please, if you could, hurry up. Unfortunately, the baristas were in no mood to hurry on anyone’s account that day and his soy chai came by in what felt like an agonizingly long five minutes.

His laptop firmly in the grasp of his left hand, he grabbed the chai with his right and headed straight for the exit to Starbucks, head down, arms hunched, with a determined look about him as if he were going to reach back in time and find those lost minutes that had dared to escape from him.

He was almost at the door when a voice he barely recognized called his name. He pretended not to hear, for he knew he had no time today, not now, not with his second year finals — the most important ones — just a week and a half away. He opened the door, triggering the electronic bell to give its standard greeting/farewell tone that signaled yet another customer was entering/escaping the bohemian lure of Starbucks. The voice called his name, prefixing it with an “Oh come on” this time and a more insistent tone about it, bordering on annoyance. Resignedly, he turned away from the half-open door, his chai in hand, its heat already beginning to penetrate the cardboard, reminding his fingers that what they held was in fact, a very hot beverage. His left hand’s fingers felt complacent in comparison, only having to contend with the pleasant warmth of a sleeping laptop.

His gaze, torn away from the door beyond which lay the new day of freedom and responsibility, landed upon a table in the back where sat the owner of the voice that had hailed him. It took a him a moment to recognize her, for he hadn’t seen her in a several years, but her voice had not changed. She looked older now, yet was still beautiful in her own way, but somehow had lost that air of youthful innocence that had made her so different back then. Her eyes were as expressive as ever, however, and shone with a dangerously playful light, as always. At last stepping away from the door, which closed quietly, its metal hinges well oiled and not squeaking in the least, he nodded at his old friend, displaying recognition and took a few steps towards her. She smiled, he smiled, and soon he was at her table and took a seat, placing his laptop down next to him and freeing his right hand from the ever-growing warmth of his cardboard-encased chai.

“How have you been?”

“Busy. Very busy. But it’s good to see you again. It’s been what… three years? four?”

She nodded and sipped at her espresso, which he noticed she had taken in a ceramic cup (what might be called a “real cup”) as opposed to his haste-induced plastic Styrofoam cardboard-encased portable beverage unit.

Feeling the minutes tug at him, he managed a glance over at his watch, as inconspicuously as possible. He swore mentally, for knew he was now doomed to be late. Oh well, so be it.

“And how have you been? What brings you up north?”

He might as well pretend to care, and he found, not too surprisingly, that he did actually care, though he had buried it a bit deep.

“Family. Visiting home. It’s funny I should bump into you, you wouldn’t believe who I ran into the other day…”

Her sentence drifted off into the air, beckoning him to ask the inevitable question as to who it was his old friend had seen. A moment’s pause to heighten the tension and then he gave into the temptation to ask.

“Who?”

In reply, she said a name, a name that he recalled he had told her a long time ago, half-serious and half-in-jest. At that time, when they were both scarcely halfway through their teenage year she had laughed at him for even thinking he could know that name. It was the name, he had said back — what was it, ten? eleven? something on that order years ago — it was the name, of his future wife, or so he believed.

“Right.”

His reply dripped with sarcasm and cynicism and a general aura of disbelief. He had no time for games and he knew his old friend was one who was playful. The mirth in her eyes and her half smile already alerted him that something was up. And he was already late. He stole another glance at his watch. He was going to be very late if he wasted time here much longer. His idealistic days were over, buried in his undergraduate years, so he had long ago decided.

“No, I’m serious. And uh, she said well, she told me, well, I told her I had a friend who had once asked me to let him know if I ever met anyone with her name because, and she didn’t laugh at this, which surprised me, because he thought that was the name of his future wife. Instead, she was very calm. Very calm. She said she thought she knew the name of her future husband and wondered, just out of the blue, if it might be the same as the name of my friend. And you know what? This sounds crazy but yeah, it was your name. Which was really weird. Believe, I didn’t believe at first and thought she was pulling my leg or something but no, she was for real. I really think you should meet her, she’s definitely your type, you two would get along really well, really well together.”

He looked meticulously at the top of his chai, the white plastic cover with various warnings embossed on it. WARNING: CONTENTS MAY BE HOT. He peeked in the little hole on the top and looked at the milky brown liquid inside.

“Uh…”

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but you know — you were the one that told me that miracles happen and that you just gotta believe and you saw how things turned out for me and my husband and you remember how stressed out I was about everything before then? I think this is your miracle, I don’t think you should pass this by. You gotta meet her. And I’m serious, I’m serious serious serious.”

“Alright. When?”

“How about right now? She’s over there on the sofa in the corner.”

His old friend was pointing somewhere behind where he sat. He felt time come to a slow stop as he turned on his stool and cast his gaze backwards at the sofa. Perhaps he was merely dreaming, perhaps things of this nature simply did not occur in real life. Yet, in the moments, the precious few moments while he turned and did not see, he found that he did not have room in his heart for doubt. His idealism, so long buried, had come to earth with a vengeance.

There was only one person sitting on the couch, but she was beautiful. Their eyes locked, and he found himself, strangely enough, resonating with her in a way he had never resonated with anyone before. Classes, studies, being late, and all that now felt deeply irrelevant in this moment. He got up off his stool, went over, and introduced himself. Her eyes were all aglow as well. The two of them, after the preliminary introductions, could feel just a sort of connection between them that both of them had known themselves to be seeking all their lives, but they had never found and thus had never known what it was they were missing. They came over to his old friend, and thanked her, profusely, for introducing them. She smiled and told them to think nothing of it, that it gladdened her heart.

Five months later they were happily married.

And the marriage? It lasted as long as they lived.

True love comes along so rarely it couldn’t populate the earth in a million years, but it does come along, even if rarely.movie dildo view samplestall movie walkingmovie quotes crashers weddingx movie rated previewxxx movie searchgirls movies youngzoo movies girlmovie adult mpegs Map

I went in expecting the worst of an over-hyped and over-digitally-rendered special effects bonazana. Strangely enough, I found myself leaving the theater moved. The impact of seeing the entire Northern Hemisphere essentially frozen solid, along with tornadoes tearing apart Los Angeles and a giant tidal wave crashing into New York, made me realize how fragile this world is. The same goes for the lives we lead — the romance between Sam and the girl in New York at the decathlon contest (nerd contests have a place in my own memory, ISEF, Mathcounts, et. al. — I immediately identified with the kids on screen) and their sacrifice for each other, along with the very tenuous up-in-the-air feel of the entire relationship was strangely moving. I realized how many of my own relationships had small moments of significance, such as when a girl put her head on my shoulder. I also realized, that unlike Sam in the movie, I failed to realize that those moments of significance, were in fact, significant and sort of blundered on, leading to confusion and doubtless pain for those girls. Returning to the movie, the gratitude the President expresses at the end of the movie to the Third World, which takes in the American refugees from new Ice Age, reminded me of how quickly we in Western civilization, and indeed those of who live in this so called “connected” digital age forget and pass over those parts of humanity that lack not only high speed Internet access but electricity, running clean water and adequate nutritious food. Perhaps I’m just waxing philosophical, but part me of really truly cares about those people and I wish there was something more I could do. Another part of me wants to build a relationship with someone that will be strong enough to withstand something like the disasters portrayed in the movies — a relationship built on trust, honesty and mutual love. Ah, perhaps my idealism is overruling the cynicism that college seems to have imparted? I know not.

The previews before the movie were quite good as well. King Arthur (yay Keira Knightley) and Alexander both look very good and Catwoman just looks like it’ll be fun. The Day After Tomorrow, apart from being a strangely moving movie for me, has some pretty beautiful special effects and is worth seeing for that alone. The soundtrack is quite good as well, and by a composer I haven’t heard of, Harald Kloser, an apparent newcomer. Recommended.dead grateful mp3 1967in course a miracles mp3abas mp3 agha1969 stooges mp3sura mp3 abasasomethin 1970 mp3mp3 abbas bagirov1972 cadillac mp3 Map

Just watched this documentary about Robert McNamara. Essentially focusing on McNamara’s life and lessons learned from the Vietnam War and the Cuban Missile Crisis, one can’t but notice the contrasts between McNamara and Rumsfeld, one of which will admit having made mistakes whereas the other cultivates an aura of infallibility… The film goes through 11 lessons that McNamara wishes to impart. Most of them I agree with and they are definitely insightful. When asked with whom the responsibility of war ultimately lies with, McNamara answered “the President” and further added that had Kennedy not been shot, we probably wouldn’t have seen the scale of conflict and death that we saw in Vietnam. Similarly, one can only wonder if we would have ever invaded Iraq had Gore been elected President….

More than a bit of gratituous violence aside, the film didn’t really have much left. Still, it was interested and I’ll probably see Vol. 2 when it comes out on DVD. Uma Thurman was okay… but the entire plot had so many gaping holes and things that just didn’t make sense that the movie felt like a bit of a stretch. The anime worked in during the film was an interesting touch and the soundtrack fit with the feel of the movie, which was sort of tongue in cheek throughout. The fighting was awesome, save for the relentless blood spraying everywhere which was a bit overdone, in my opinion. Do people’s limbs really spray blood like a firehose when they’re cut open like that? I’m not sure I want to know…

Well, it seems like weblog.dominik.net needed a respite from the rigors of MIT to take off and flourish as a regular feature. Since the first pair of posts on March 17, 2004, I’ve made 54 posts, not counting this one. The longest string of posting was five days in a row at the start of the blog, since then there’ve been three sets of three days in a row. The most posts in a single day happened on April 12th, with 5 posts. I most often post on Wednesday and Saturday, with 10 posts each for those days, and I most rarely post on Friday, having only made three Friday posts in these past weeks. The longest entry ran about three printed pages, but after I realized blog entries are supposed to be short I’ve tightened things up a bit and made my entries shorter… though I’ve gotten into the habit of spam-posting (e.g. look at the timestamps of the posts immediately prior this one :P).

Numerical analysis aside, the content I’ve examined in the course of the blog has mostly been reprocessing various media that I’ve consumed (yarr, reviewing what I read/saw/listened to) along with occasional links/commentary/general ramblings on life along the latest virulent meme to pass through. I haven’t really shared anything juicy about my personal life (yawn) but I have made a few philosophical introspections. Overall, has this blog been a useful, fun thing? Sure. I’ll be looking into strategically expanding into other content areas in my blog, so let me know if there’s anything you want to see :P

Got this a few days back and have listened it into the ground. According to iTunes, I’ve listened to a song from this CD 239 times since I got it. So yes, you can imagine I like it :) Highlights of CD include Counting Crows’ Accidentally in Love, both version of Holding for a Hero, Funkytown and, just for laughs/fun, Donkey and Puss’ rendition of Livin’ La Vida Loca. I Need Some Sleep by Eels has some pretty tight lyrics too. In a word: yum.bars xanax linw on 2mgmen for viagra a naturalbars no xanax prescription 2mgno xanax bars online 2mg prescriptioninformation tablets 2mg xanaxacheter viagrahcl acetaminophen take vicodin tramadol acetaminophenabout xanax withdrawls Map

Just watched this on DVD. I enjoyed it a good bit — I’m a fan of soccer in general and the film had very well-defined characters that were very relatable and real. I could definitely see some of my friends’ in a few of the roles. The plot is essentially about an Indian girl who wants to play soccer (football for the Brits and the rest of the world ‘cept for America :P) but her family isn’t too hot on the concept. There’s romantic entanglements of the minor sort, an international trip and a few falling outs between friends. Overall, a good heartwarming and funny movie. Both lead actresses (Parminder Nagra and Keira Knightley) do a great job portraying fiery, intelligent and beautiful young women. Go see it if you haven’t.

Just sent this to my congressional representatives:

… I’d like to strongly urge you to oppose this legislation. Bill S. 89 and HR 163, the Universal National Service Act of 2003, which purposes to “provide for the common defense by requiring that all young persons (age 18-26) in the United States, including women, perform a period of military service or a period of civilian service in furtherance of the national defense and homeland security” is not only unnecessary legislation, but is actually harmful legislation.

As President Eisenhower warned in his Farewell address, we need to beware the military industrial complex taking over the direction of our democratic republic. With over 750 American military bases around the world, we do not need more men and women to increase our military presence. American military presence needs to be moderated, not increased, and we need to show the world we are not interested in constructing a New Roman Empire but rather wish to work together with other nations to create not only national security, but global security as well. That will take diplomatic finesse and will necessitate the end of counterproductive unilateral wars such as the one in Iraq. One thing such global security will not require is an increased American military force, and to avoid sending more young American lives (including my own) needlessly into harm’s way, I strongly urge you to oppose these two bills.

More info aquí: http://www.congress.org/congressorg/issues/alert/?alertid=5834001&content_dir=ua_congressorg