Romney quits the race

I was reading a Newsweek article about Romney's withdrawal from the race. Here's an interesting and very poignant remark about his campaign:

"It's no accident that the GOP race is down to three men who are clear about who they are: McCain, Huckabee and, yes, Ron Paul."
- Howard Fineman

I never actually liked Romney to begin with. Putting aside the fact that he has flip flopped on so many issues, something about his character always screamed "I'm a phony." Maybe it was his hair, or possibly his polished, refined rhetoric. And now I know why: he campaigned as someone else, with someone else's hopes and, most importantly, with someone else's goals. Like Fineman argues in his article, I believe that Romney was pandering to people whom he didn't really feel like pandering to in the first place. And because of this, he lost his true identity. He became a phony in the voter's eyes.


the link to the original article: http://www.newsweek.com/id/108793

non-existent internets

Today marks the second day of a broken wireless connection for my laptop. The UIC wireless client can't even find the wireless network :(

I believe its been atleast two weeks since I've seen any sort of sunlight in Chicago. Can't really stand it. I've diagnosed myself with a mild case of Seasonal Affective Disorder, a.k.a. winter depression. Happens around this time of year. It seems as if all my problems seem to compound into one large, lifeless ball. I'd say it looks like an exercise ball with words and pictures, etc. pasted on it.

This ball of problems usually lies at the foot of my bed in the morning.

Fun stuff.

on a wednesday

She walked past me today. It was snowing. My shoes could barely find a naked patch of cement. The snowflakes clumped together and landed on my borrowed jacket. As the wind blew the snow in my direction, I lowered my head into my jacket in order to keep my glasses from getting wet.

And then it happened.

I looked up, and there she was. Head buried in her black jacket, arms in her pockets, eyes fixed at the ground. I could tell she wasn’t enjoying the weather. My heart sank but my pace quickened. Should I say something? Hello, perhaps? Would she still remember me? There she was, walking briskly to get out of the cold. And yet, for a brief moment, I saw something in her eyes – a glance that revealed despair, maybe disappointment, if anything. But maybe it was just the snow and gusty breeze coming towards her. I buried my head and looked away. She walked right past me.