ope this

Mine is a world of pain, mostly because I’m a total pansy. I celebrated finishing finals by going bowling with Eileen on Thursday evening, and the three games we bowled did a number to my right arm. Bowling did feature two moments of whimsy: the first was when the lights went out and the blacklights came on—we were no longer bowling, but playing an ’80s wireframe arcade game—and the second was when the ghost in our machine got tired of assigning us scores based on the number of pins we knocked down. Eileen had a couple of strikes after knocking down nine pins, and I had the most productive gutter ball ever.

Consequently, my arm was Not So Hot on Friday. After taking care of a few odds and ends (e.g. formally severing my ties with the University Honors College; a sad thing for me, as the UHC was the single most positive force in my time at OSU), and putting in a few hours at work, Renee called and asked if I wanted to play tennis with Adam (her fiancee) and her. I had earlier expressed interest in playing tennis, but had always been busy when opportunities had presented themselves… so, to show that I really did want to play, I dusted off my racquet and popped some ibuprofen.

Tennis was quite a bit of fun, actually. I had a few summers of tennis lessons back in middle school (about a decade ago, now), and so I was pleasantly surprised to learn that I hadn’t forgotten everything. I still had a forehand swing, and am now strong enough to do a one-handed backhand (though, as all my earlier practice was with a two-handed backhand, my one-handed attempts don’t compare favorably at the moment). I’ve lost my serve, though, and every time I tried to smash the ball my attempt met net. Still, I’m much more serviceable than I would have guessed.

Of course, tennis with an already gimpy arm made things all that much worse this morning. My poor body.

Moments after returning from tennis last night, I got a call from Eric: he was buying milkshakes, if I was game. (How could I say no?) This later lead to an extended install of the last educational software purchase I made—a remarkably cheap version of Apple’s Final Cut Pro—and some fiddling with video afterwards. We were able to successfully rotate the Safari Eric movie clip that Eric, Brian, and I had filmed a while back. (When your digital camera records video, it assumes you’re holding the camera normally. I, being especially gifted, decided to hold the camera vertically for this particular shoot.) We then added an animated title on top of the movie. The title was supposed to read “hope this works” (what can I say? I’m naturally creative), but various errors—some of which we figured out—resulted in a title that read “ope this.” It was a moment of movie magic.

So, yes, I’m set to become a creative master: I have a good computer, some good software, and a boatload of free time staring me in the face. I’ll either improve my skills, or else I’ll end up in jail.


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