Jared W. Stanton Cordially Presents...

I seem to have nothing to talk about lately, which is making updating this thing increasingly difficult.

My grandmother's been really sick. Hm. I don't want to post that. I've been spending a lot of time going back and forth between the city and North Sea, and it's eating up all my free time... which apparently I would usually spend updating this. Who knew my work blog was ever-so-important to me?

Suddenly, I want a Cheesesteak sandwhich. With lots of delicious, melty, cheese-type-product. Mmmm.

I ought to redeem myself, since my last post was about Jesse McCartney.

Unfortunately, the only thing I could really think of that I'm seeing a lot of lately is the Olympics. The reason this is unfortunate? Everytime I try to watch it, the only thing on is curling. Oh, curling...

On a slightly related note: Anyone had that 'Sweet Chili Sauce' with the McNuggets at McDonalds? Yum. Way to go, sauce served at the Olympic village. Now I can pretend that I'm eating like an Olympian!

This sounded like a post Benji might make. Although, Benji probably does not know what 'curling' is... Or have the memory capacity to remember his former post. Alright, well, now that my confidence in my post has been restored...

While shopping today (I needed new jeans), I heard an unexpectedly catchy song in the store. Curious, I asked a sales associate what it was called, and who it was by. Imagine my surprise when they told me, "Oh, this is 'Body Language' by Jesse McCartney."

Jesse McCartney? Jesse McCartney was in Dream Street and sang 'Beautiful Soul'. I was so shocked that this was the same person.

Yeah, I'm a little embarassed I just made an entire post about Jesse McCartney. Oh well. At least it wasn't about thinking the word "organic" was "orgasmic". Way to wear your IQ on your sleeve, Benji...

I started my volunteer work at AMNH, and the 'ancient professor' they paired me with is possibly the most eccentric man I have ever met. He's confined to a wheelchair, and has an oxygen tank attached to it, on which he has scrawled various things on it with what I think is Sharpie.... things like, "I Drank Agent Orange" and "All the wrong people remember Vietnam". He also wears what I suspect is a bright orange hunting vest, and a fisherman's hat covered with buttons.

He calls me 'boy', among other things, and gestures wildly as I wheel him around, and is constantly critiquing whatever I am doing. I'm rolling to fast, I'm rolling too slow, I have skinny arms, I went over that bump too fast, I clearly have never done a decent day's work... However, he instantly brightens at the opprotunity to share his wealth of knowledge on just about everything with the museum visitors - whether it be the date the Koala in the exhibit was stuffed, or the location of the nearest water fountain. It's been an amazing experience thus far, and thankfully I only have to do it once a week. Or else I might kill him.

There's still a possibility I'll get to go on a dig this summer, which would be exciting. If not I'll definately try to go back to school, at least part time. You just aren't enough intellectual stimulation for me, Spent. Yeah, I think that was a good life-update. I'm sure most of you forgot I worked here, it's been so long since I made one...

For the past three New Year's Eves, I've been in Oxford, where I can drink legally. Stupid puritanical Americans so it's going to be a little strange to be on the other side of the pond this year. My older brother MJ and his fiancee are going to probably be hosting some kind of New Years Party in the city, which I could go to, or I can chill with my family in North Sea. The last option is hang out with a couple of my friends who are planning on going to see the ball drop in Times Square.

Now, this "Times Square" thing just seems cold and miserable, especially since I can't drink legally. And if I can't do it legally, I obviously will not be doing it. Someone is going to make a smart response to this. Or maybe not.

Plus, I'm not good at carrying drinks and doing anything else at the same time. I wouldn't want to ruin anymore shirts or vests.

( My younger brother just IMed me this link, he said it 'reminded him of me'. I wonder if he's trying to hint at something... )

I'm not going to say anything about Nathan Miller's post. Because I'm classy like that.

I got an e-mail from my favorite Professor this weekend. Apparently, he's taking one of his TF's on a dig in Peru next summer, and would love for me to join them, as well. I was so excited, I haven't watched NatGeo for a whole two days, I've been too busy trying to figure out how I'll fit it in. Obviously, since this is what I really want to do with my life, it takes priority over this redundant job. It means I'll definately try to take a class or two next semester, though. Somewhere. If I can still get in. I wouldn't want to show up and be all rusty.

Otherwise, Thanksgiving was cool. I went back to North Sea and drank a lot of egg nog, ate turkey and mashed potatoes, and got to hear my brother be badly serenaded by the neighbor girl from our window.

This post feels incomplete. I don't know what to end it with. Oh well.

I'm still hungover. I'm kind of glad there's a topic for me to talk about.I'm really way, way too young to be able to tell anyone if my idea of what a good "romantic partner" is has changed over time, so I'm going to stick with the other un-romantically related question.

"Would you rent or buy the home of your dreams if a brutal murder had occurred there? What if you got to live there for free? Would your decision be swayed if it was rumored to be haunted?"

Death doesn't frighten me, my mother died when I was 13. Hauntings don't scare me, the concept of haunting doesn't scare me. I suppose the point of these things is to clarify and create discussion, so I'll clarify.

The house I grew up in was built in 1790, so it has it's fair share of creaking floorboards, slightly-askew staircases, and the ocassional unexplainable event. Stuff in my youngest brother's room used to move around, my grandmother used to say when she was young (she grew up in this house, too), she would play with a little boy in colonial clothing. Now, does my brother, Ryan, just sleepwalk? Did my grandmother just have an over-zealous imagination? Who knows. I'm not willing to completely discount it, nor completely buy into it. However, I do believe that if there are places that are haunted, our house is probably one of them. I also know none of us have ever been directly harmed by any "entity", so haunting rumors wouldn't scare me. Now, if something ever happens that seems malicious or dangerous, I'm willing to re-think this stance.

As for someone being murdered there, that certainly wouldn't put me off a place of my dreams, especially if I was living there for free. One person murdering another has nothing to do with the place. In fact, I'd probably do research and be ready to share the whole sordid affair with anyone if they asked.

Now, I shall return to watching the National Geographic channel.

Well, my first week at Spent was full of non-stop coffee runs and poking the copy machine. I expected no less from my first week of a real full-time job.

I went to the American Museum of Natural History on Sunday, they have an exhibit called "Highway of an Empire: The Great Inca Road". It's mostly these awesome, impressive photos of the roads the Incas built in South America. This was of particular interest to me because I'm hopelessly torn between which area of the world to intensely look at if I choose to continue studying Anthropology. I love the Incas, but I'm also somehow drawn to the Middle East. Maybe I just feel like it'll be exciting to always need a bodyguard while I'm on a dig.

The entire last paragraph made me seem like a total dork, didn't it? The dorkiness is about to continue.

Anyway, I decided to Volunteer at AMNH, which I'm excited about. Super excited. I'll be super busy, but it sounds like a lot of fun, and the Volunteer Liason looked like she was bouncing out of her seat when someone my age walked into her office intentionally. Well, I did warn about the dorkiness, didn't I? I had to fill out an application, but she says I'm a shoe-in to hang around in the Culture Halls on weekends. She says I'd be walking around with some ancient professor, who seems to just hang out to answer questions. It sounds like what I'll really be doing is pushing a wheelchair, and not offending this guy with my ignorance at every turn.

... Yeah. Total dork entry. Sorry.

Hello! I suppose I’m supposed to put this to good use and write something about myself, so here I go, and I hope my first impression doesn’t disappoint.

I’m Jared Stanton, I’m 20 and was just hired as an Administrative Assistant here. I grew up in North Sea, New York. I went to school for three years in Kansas, which was unremarkable and… flat. I have a degree in Archaeology and Anthropology from Oxford University, which I discovered when I returned was completely useless. So now I’m here.

Things that qualify me for this job? Copy machines love me, and I’m fantastic at taking coffee orders.

Was this an acceptable introduction? I feel like there should have been more to it.

( Losing her, the only one who's ever known... )

( Lost along the way, you found me, you found me... )