Running On Vapors

Day two

2008-05-26T19:33:00.005-06:00

...with the trainer. She says if I'm not hurting, she's not doing her job. Well, kudos to her then!

I've gotta say it's hurting more while I'm there than the next day as most people seem to complain about. (do I get to brag about that? nah, didn't think so) It feels like I hyperventilate while I'm there & I'm not sure how to keep that from happening. Not quick breaths, but just short I guess. Today I couldn't get that last rep in because my fingers were tingling so much. That pisses me off.

I also did my own 40 min with the elliptical on Saturday. The first 15 or so were worse than the last 25, but I managed to lock my knee at one point (added to the list of things I recommend NOT doing) so was sore and limping down stairs on Saturday, and during the oil change I did on the car Sunday morning (speaking of, don't ever EVER buy oil filters from Wal-Mart, okay? The damned things aren't made to fit the same oil filter wrench that every other filter is designed to fit. Just a teeeeeeny bit smaller, making the werench slip off like a socket on a stripped bolt). The knee felt really good today though.

Next day with the trainer is Friday. I can do this, but my lungs really need to get with the program. There's also the diet thing though. Really gotta work on that.

Personal Trainer, Session One.

2008-05-23T12:29:00.001-06:00

What I recall of it anyway.

Greeting followed by conversation about what I expect & what they can offer. Go change. Intro to the elliptical and five minute 'warm-up'. Rubbery legs at third minute. Minute five comes and I make an attempt to walk to personal trainer where stretching is to begin. I made it there, but it wasn't pretty.

I'm at a computer all day, so the stretches are for those muscles that aren't stretched while sitting in a chair. Bollocks! They're the tenderizers of personal trainers intent on devouring their prey as slowly as possible.

Thirty seconds per muscle group never took so long, and I'm also already sweating enough to drip onto the mat. What the hell?

Next up, the weights. Okay, this I know I can do. Or so I thought. The lifting I had done was rhythmical (if not all that fast), but the technique learned this day was much slower; Four-count to extend, hold for two more, then return.

My mouth is parched and we're at, what, minute 8? I actually PAID for another fifty two minutes of this? I go drink a little water before the lifting & (stupidly?) come back.

First lifts are chest down on an excercise ball, lifting the weights up from the floor. Next lifts are chest up, pressing the weights, being guided on form and count. Follow that with shoulder presses, standing & pushing the weights straight up above my head, with reminders to tighten my core (which I translated to mean, "Suck in that gut boy!") and butt (huh?) to help with balance. She even had me try this one with one foot lifted. My balance ain't that good withOUT weights & a heart rate of 160-ish, so we didn't keep at that one very long. Round it out with squats, and my fingers are now tingling.

Now is when I realize exactly where I am. Not physically (that is painfully obvious, thankyouverymuch), but geographically. The gym has the main level that you walk into & where the trainers' desks are at, but then you go down a flight of stairs to the locker rooms & work-out area.

STAIRS! After squats! So we go. Up. The. Stairs. where her desk is at to go over the nutritional side of it, me trying to not hyperventilate & get rid of the tingling sensation.

I buy some crap I probably don't need, but only because I'm afraid she'll have me get on the elliptical again to "cool down". But wait! I'm still in my workout gear, and the shower is down those same stairs. Dammit! So I go down. The. Fucking. Stairs. looking like a decrepit octogenarian (who likely would have gone down and up those stairs while rightly taunting me), clinging to the rail just at the brink of falling at each step. Get to the bottom without falling and consider this a success (until I realize it took me five minutes). Strip, shower, dress, and back. Up. The. Stairs. Thank the trainer for not killing me yet, and back to work (HA!) I go.

Next session, Monday. If you don't hear from me by Tuesday, tell the police that Kara must have finished me off.

Alright criminals... er, citizens. Listen up!

2008-05-11T11:10:00.005-06:00

Cogress moves forward on ensuring you are considered a criminal when you buy a CD.

"Pro-IP Act passes House to the glee of RIAA and MPAA". With a headline like that, you know it can't be good. Yet this is what Congress believes is the right thing to do.

"The biggest area of concern is the fact that the bill creates a new position in the White House called the U.S. Intellectual Property Enforcement Representative. This new position helps to make sure that organizations like RIAA can continue to gain legal ground even after the presidential election changes major players in the government. The main goals of the act are to strengthen copyrights, make it easier to prosecute people who violate copyrights and increase fines associated with copyright infringement."

Good times indeed.

Music: Jane Jensen, More Than I Can (but don't tell the RIAA, okay?)

Must read.

2008-01-05T19:55:00.000-07:00

Just click on it.

I'm dead. That sucks, at least for me and my family and friends. But all the tears in the world aren't going to bring me back, so I would prefer that people remember the good things about me rather than mourning my loss. (If it turns out a specific number of tears will, in fact, bring me back to life, then by all means, break out the onions.)

"Major Andrew Olmsted, who posted a blog since May 2007, was killed in Iraq on Thursday, Jan. 3. Major Olmsted, who had been based at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs, began blogging after his unit was sent to Iraq with the mission of helping to train the Iraqi Army. No official details have been released on his death, but reports say that he and a second member of his unit were killed during an enemy ambush in Diyala province, northeast of Baghdad. Olmsted was determined to make a difference in Iraq. 'The sooner the Iraqi government doesn't need U.S. support to provide security for its people, the sooner we will probably be asked to leave.'"
--Rocky Mountain News

auf Wiedersehen 2007

2007-12-31T16:41:00.000-07:00

Overall, it was actually a pretty decent year; Lotsa travel, lotsa time spent with good friends, no broken bones or burned houses, and the check engine light even went out on Friday. It was also kinda sucky; Single again.

So, what's next? New paths have shown up, and I'm taking one of 'em. No idea where it'll lead, but as the saying goes, "Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there." I'm tired of sitting anyway. Wonder if I'll be able to walk without staggering though.

Enjoy. I especially like how the knob there goes all the way to eleven. :D

All the best to you in the new year, may he not be a bastage.

Mono, Silicone

Road trip

2007-12-27T19:51:00.000-07:00

Woo-hoo! No speeding ticket from my drive through Wyoming and Montana this year! Of course, much of the highway from Casper to points north were hard packed snow, if not straight ice about a half inch thick. Sadly, no snow fell in Montana on Christmas day. Had a nice visit to see mom. Of course the visit involved a to-do list of things she hasn't been able to square away. Easy stuff; setting up the TV's that were moved around a few months ago, putting a hanging ball to tell her where to stop the car in the carport, resetting the friction belt on the stationary bike. We played some games, enjoyed great food & generally relaxed.

Snow did fall in Colorado while I was gone though. Seven inches on the 25th, then took a break while I drove home on Boxing Day (thankfully) then started up again that night. The snow is still falling now.

So, the stats...

$178.17
Gas money for the round-trip drive. Winner: Exxon. Loser: Airlines that wanted to route me through Phoenix(!) to get me there, at about twice the price.

61.848
Gallons of carbon-based fuel, cleanly and responsibly burned through territory that sees more methane emissions from cattle than my EPA-rated 21/28 mpg Altima could ever hope to fart out. Besides, while Wyoming and Montana beef is very fine grade in my ever so humble opinion, they still cannot trump my Altima's delivery of a mom's favorite, if only, son to her doorstep. Winner: Altima. Loser: At least 12 ounces of Bessie sitting on my plate.

12:15
Hours:Minutes that I spent in each direction of this journey, plus or minus 15 minutes... the log book was doused in water at one point as I made a left turn on to my mom's street, smudging up the pencil'd time entries. Winner: Bic. Loser: My precious mathematical numbers. You know, as opposed to the Alphabetical numbers...

1557
Total miles placed on said Altima, working out to just over 25 mpg (a tic or so better than the 50th percentile of that EPA bit, so there). Winner: ..uh, Department of Transportation I guess, in getting stats bumped up to grub up more Federal Highway dollars. Loser: Mother Earth... You didn't really buy in to that "cleanly and responsibly burned" tripe I typed up there, did you? My friggin "Check Engine" light is on again because it apparently needs a hug or something.

63.55
Average miles per hour including stops for gas and facilities (not bad at all, considering the off-and-on icy roads roughly from Casper to Bozeman, and my now considerably less-than-500-mile bladder... Getting old sucks, I tells ya). Winner: Minimal brake application. Hey, we're talking about getting to Mom's home cooking! Loser: Highway billboards whizzing by. Except those Burma-Shave verses...

MANY A WOLF
IS NEVER LET IN
BECAUSE OF THE HAIR
ON HIS
CHINNY-CHIN-CHIN
BURMA-SHAVE

LCD Soundsystem, North American Scum

Damn, I needed that...

2007-11-21T21:43:00.000-07:00

Addiction

2007-11-17T21:43:00.000-07:00

A little over a month ago, my Sirius satellite receiver up & died on me. I called 'em up and went through the obligatory troubleshooting with the heavily accented dude. He ultimately told me to have the shop remove the offending POS from the Nissan while they sent me a replacement.

The first day without it was just wrong. How do the radio stations get away with the, the ... PULP that they pump out every morning? Add to that the flat-out terrible reception that my stereo gets with the in-the-rear-window antenna on the Nissan, keeping me from being able to listen to either of the two stations here that do actually play some music in the mornings, and the drive is more easily made with no tunes at all.

Hours went by, stretching into days. Before I knew it, a week had passed and no new receiver. I called them and they advised that their shipment was stuck in customs.

I can now imagine what some crack head goes through when his pusher says, "Sorry man, ain't got nuffin today on accounta them suits downtown needing my entire stock for their IPO party..."

Suffice it to say, that was not the answer I wanted to hear. I started having tremors when the full meaning of what I was being told sunk in.

"Wait, you're saying they're, like, STUCK? Somewhere? Uh, so could you maybe tell me where that is? ... Oh, no reason. Ju- Just curious. Seattle? Well shit, I can't drive there. I've got work tomorrow. INEEDMYDAMNFIXMAAAAAAAN!!"

Then came the call (yes, they actually called me to let me know); The shipment was expected to be delivered the end of the week... when I would be out of town. Friggin sadists, I tell you! After some more talking (trying to explain why I reallyreallyREALLY needed that delivery before I left because, uh, my neighbors would do something with it if it was just left) they finally saw reason & set my replacement to be sent overnight once they get to their distribution center. They estimate it will arrive on the day I'm getting on a plane.

-twitch-

So the next morning I get an e-mail with the FedEx tracking number (did I TELL you they were sadists?!?) and immediately go to the webbery to see where my precious is right then. Oh good, Cincinnati.

Wait, what?? It was held by customs in Seattle! What the hell, did they throw the damned thing too far?? -twitch-

It says it's scheduled for delivery by 10:30 the next morning. My flight is at three in the afternoon. Okay, that is plenty of time. I mean, right? Wouldn't you think so?

-twitch-

"Hey Sara! (she's my manager) I need to take a full day off tomorrow & not just a half, okay? There's, uh, something that came up. I think I chipped another tooth. Okay?" Isn't it amazing what excuses an addict will come up with ON THE SPOT like that? I mean, really, once I get the thing, all I'm going to do is put it in my house and then have it installed when I get home.

The next morning I'm up at the usual time, 4:00am, a time commonly (and rightly) unknown to most people. Unless they're exiting the local pub of course. I can't stand admitting this, but I really did check the front porch for any boxes laying out there before hopping in the shower. FOUR in the morning, people. On a day off. Something is wrong with me. (yay, step one complete) -twitch-

With my shower done, I eat breakfast while watching Early Today (yes, there is an "early" edition of the Today show, the show that is on for two hours longer than it needs to be by itself, in my never so humble opinion, but I digress) at a lower than normal volume in case there's a knock at the door. I play a little with Mario the Wonder Kitty, and even he is looking at me like, "What the fuck are you doing up, huh?" I hop online and look at some of the rest of the news, check the weather at my destination, go through the suitcase to make sure everything I need is there, aaaaaaaaand then I check FedEx. "Arrived at station" it tells me. I hit F5. You know, just in case.

If their web site were a tad smarter, it could have slammed me with, "What? You didn't believe me before asshole? I told you ARRIVED AT STATION. Don't make me add a weather delay in, bub!" So at 4:05 I peek out the front door again...

Okay, yeah. That's blatant exaggeration. Instead, I did go lay down again. I didn't go back to sleep, of course. Oh no. I could FEEL it, a mere ZIP code or three away from me where I lay. Likely tossed carelessly in some corner of the warehouse. Savages. I read the magazines that came in recently to try to take my mind off of that nightmare. I vacuumed. I washed dishes. All that schtuff. Ya know when my precious showed up? 10:23am. Not crushed beyond recognition. Not weeping from its abuse (being inanimate helps, I suppose). I make the drive, still Sirius-less, to the airport. That was a rough drive.

So I get back from a great time in Texas and have the car shop reinstall the box in whatever secret cubby hole in the dash they had the old one, and drive home listening to their generic always-on channel that spews out weather and the 800# to call to have my receiver activated. Yes, I did. It was amazing, and it wasn't even music. IT LIVES!

So I get home after the trip, and gather my various numbers (account number, old radio ID, new radio ID, and that 800#). I call, and they ask me for the phone number that's on my account. This is where having phone number changes over the past year is a bit of a liability. My rush of musical bliss was being delayed because I've had three phone numbers in the past year. Did I give them the land line that I never answered? The old cell number that was changed when the new cell came? Crap! I have all these other numbers, dammit! Happily, I remembered the right one and enter the hell that is Automated Phone Support. Those automated lines with the pleasant lady that recognizes your voice commands so long as you have no accent whatsoever. "Would you like to continue in English? Say yes to proceed." Those kinds. I reply, "Yes" and get the voice saying "I'm sorry, I didn't get that. Did you say 'mustard'?"

Anyway, I zero out of that and get Frank on the phone. No, his name isn't Frank. You know this. I know this. He knows this. We play his game because I just want my damned Area 33 as soon as possible, okay? -twitch-

"Frank, bud, listen carefully. The receiver is installed, the radio is on and tuned to 148, and I have the radio ID here. You ready for it? Because it's starting now," and I belt that 12-digit bastard out as clearly as I can between the tremors.

"I'm sorree, I didn't get dat. Did jou say 'moostard'?" ...so much for cutting through their scripted replies. We go through the usual. Yes, it's on. Yes I hear the broadcast (can't you? I'm in the car with the weather report being recited right now fer chrisssakes!). Yup, you've got the right ID number for the radio and we just confirmed my street address (thank God I didn't change THAT recently!) and secret handshake. "Hokaee, de tranzmishun iz beink sent now, and shood arrife widin 30 second or fife meenut." I swear, I don't know what country they sent me to this time, but it's apparently a new one. I'm guessing Brazil or Chile.

I wipe my brow as I stare at the radio and it's taunting "12:14" time display. Frank is breathing heavy in the phone while we wait. This is not helpful, but I don't dare hang up with a truncated "kthanxbye" because then the tranzmishun wouldn't arrive. The display changes to "updating channels" as a chorus of angels sings out. My eyes tear up and I tell Frank that all is well with the world, no there's nothing else I need right now, yes I'll go online if I need any account information... Frank, I'd just like to be alone with my radio for a while, ya mind?

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH that's better.

My Superpower

2007-10-24T18:42:00.000-06:00

Some people laugh at my humor. Or they laugh at me, I don't bother to make the distinction any more... Some idle chat that made a friend laugh follows here. Caution: It's booger-type humor, so click back now if you ... eh, better click back anyway, just to be safe.

...

A brief discussion comparing current ailments. Of course when you're close friends, you arent' required to reply with the word "fine" to the question, "How're you doing there?"

me: I've only got some rubbery crap in my nose at the moment. It ought to clear up in a couple weeks.

they: you have rubber in your nose?

me: the snot up there doesn't want to budge. It was concrete in the morning & loosened up a little bit now. If I blow, I feel it move, but then it rebounds right back to where it started.

they: wow. that sounds like some kind of super hero power before you learn how to harness it
they: lol

me: hehehe... Stand back! I'll whip the vile villian with my SNOT!
me: --SNERK-kaPOW!-- "Ouch! Okay I give up!"

Megadeth, Foreclosure Of a Dream

Oh good lord, he's back.

2007-10-15T12:20:00.000-06:00

"The bum takes a fiscal quarter off & thinks he can just jump right back in, does he?"

Yup indeed. Ya know why? Because today is Blog Action Day, a day for bloggers to raise awareness of environmental issues. To find out more, visit the Blog Action Day website.

Ya know what I'm doing? Affixing this to my car. You're welcome.

Part II on hiatus. Enjoy photos.

2007-06-14T20:00:00.000-06:00

Okay, so being a bit sick here today kept me from doing anything with the written word, but here are some pretty things for you to look at.

Like I said, there were some 250 photos that were on my camera. These few were fairly representative of the visit. Enjoy:

Seattle & Vancouver

Rubber Planet, Super Glue

Vacation in Seattle and Vancouver, Part I

2007-06-13T13:51:00.000-06:00

Woke up at the usual time of 4am, even though it was a Saturday. I had my air-fare covered by Jarvae's frequent-flyer miles. And you know how easy those are to use... Since all of the standard seats were taken, I had to be put up in business class. What a trip that was. I can't remember the last time I had a hot meal on a flight. I didn't think they existed any more. Yet there I sat, hot eggs with ham, English muffin and fruit staring me in the face for breakfast on the flight to Seattle (is that Smuckers jam too?). I'm glad I didn't stop for a McBreakfast now.

I could get used to this 'flying business class' stuff... Except for one minor detail: I was irritated at the toddler behind me. It amazed me; we were in business class with all this leg room, and the little bastard STILL had the reach to kick the back of my seat. He better get Gold in olympic running with a stride that far-reaching! Even with that minor annoyance, I couldn't help thinking that this was to be a really good weekend.

I sat next to a guy headed to Alaska for the rest of the month. Talking to this guy made me miss Montana some. He mentioned fishing up at Fire Hole, around the corner from Jackson Hole which is just down the road from where I was raised.* In a flash, I remembered trips to Canyon Ferry Dam to fish with my grandparents that would come up from Campbell, CA for a month or two in the fall on their way to Branson, Missouri for the season. Grandpa would mention how well he did this trip, only spending about $100/day to operate the motor home (with gas prices just over a dollar a gallon!). Catching the carp seemed to be my specialty, while he would catch and clean rainbow trout nearly as fast as he could cast the line in. I think I remember his method for cleaning 'em, too, in a way that negated needing to scale them. He ended up with a trout fillet that was ready for the grill only thirty seconds after biting the hook that caught it. Now THAT'S a fresh dinner.

So, landing a short time later, I met Jarvae at her gate and we went on to get the car. She insisted we keep thoughts of a red Impala in mind because she didn't want yet another rental car that was white. So, due entirely to all that mental chanting (and only perhaps because I put a word in with the rental car guy Brad) we left in a black Charger. When Brad told us this, I was thinking, "Fuckin-a, dude!" Let me just say now though, after several hours and 300+ miles driving it, that the driver seat ergonomics and rear visibility suck every ass out there, all with donkey dicks pounded in 'em. The head rest needs to be a rest people, NOT something that pushed my head forward as a six-foot tall line-backer's head would be pushed down in a five-foot tall phone booth. Even IF it "had a Hemi" in it, I would still have been well short of satisfied with that car.

As to the visit itself... Some mentioned possible "ulterior motives" (wink-nudge) for Jarvae so generously flying me over to see her for the weekend. At the hotel, the concierge checking us in says, "Well I see one person on the reservation, but two people here... Should I assume you don't need the twin double beds?" She says no. I think to myself, "Damn."

After checking in, it was a quick trip back down to Seattle for some wandering around. By then, it was maybe 7pm and much time was spent driving in circles in an unfamiliar city. It was almost a scouting trip to learn what we wanted to hit Monday morning: Space Needle of course, the music experience project / sci-fi museum that closed just as we stopped by there. That one souvenier shop just down from the Needle. Under NO circumstance were we going to stop at that McDonalds that we had passed some seven times! Many photos were taken. There was also the "is that a hard right, or a soft right I need to make?" question I had after being told to make the next left turn at the light as we headed back to the hotel. . . We stopped to have pizza (eh, good but not great), and called it a night around 10-ish.

The Embassy Suites kick serious ass. One thing we had mentioned as we checked in was our intent to head up to Canadia the next morning. Our helpful counter-dude (do they have an actual title?) tells us something ominous. Something called a Hands Across the Border Celebration was to shut down the border for five hours or so on Sunday, 11a-5p. Better be one helluva block party. I didn't even know what their "purpose" was, but with that heads-up we found an alternate route to cross.

Something I hear far too seldom: "Larry, you were right, I was wrong." Thank you dear. Doesn't matter what it was referring to. I'm recording it for posterity.

Sunday morning (after Jarvae had pulled an all-nighter on Friday) came maybe a little too soon. We both got a really good night sleep, I'm sorry to say, and were finished with breakfast & out the door somewhere around 10am.

*note on country nomenclature / distance estimation: "Arond the corner" usually involves going around a mountain between here and there, being careful for moose, bears or fallen trees as you go. "Down the road" is a minimum twenty miles along a road that is generally visible for the entire distance (i.e. Straight as an arrow and maybe even paved), if it's not snowing.

Part II and photos tomorrow

Drowning Pool, Nothingness

Wino In Training

2007-05-21T18:00:00.000-06:00

Whadda great weekend. Jarvae was my guest for the whole of it.

Actually time spent with her started back on Tuesday when she and her coworker went with me to see Spiderman 3. Long movie, but better than I'd anticipated from all the stuff I'd ready about it. Maybe what I had read was penned by the Spiderman Purist society or something. Ah well. I liked it, that's all that matters.

Forward to Friday; I picked her up as she dropped off her rental car, and we went to Chipotle after stopping at a couple places. The Fire Bowl Cafe turned out to be a Chinese food place. I thought it was interesting that the word "wok" isn't to be found anywhere until you're looking closely at the menu. You can find the menu in their web site if you have the patience to look around. It seemed to me that they want to be 'hip' to the point of trying to distance themselves from a "Chinese Restaurant" kind of place that has paper lamps hanging from the ceiling and dragons on every wall. They say: "Vegetarian, low carb, allergy sensitive? Come in and build a bowl to meet your special diet needs. Just ask one of our cashiers if you need help." Are you kidding me?? They expect their cashiers to be dieticians? Good grief. Yuppie-ville has spawned yet closer to my neighborhood.

We agreed that the weekend was going to be one of sleeping in, and to that end we watched part of Dr. Strangelove until she fell asleep. I nudged her enough to get her to go to bed. She woke up the next morning at 7:30. I should probably iterate here that Jarvae is not one you would call a "morning person"; I am usually her main alarm clock when she needs to get somewhere (like work). At least, when she doesn't answer and hang up the phone in her sleep. If she answers in her sleep and starts talking, it's a laugh riot though!

So she wakes at 7:30 completely on her own, though I think me walking out to get the paper might have been the culprit, really. We went to Pearl Street Mall and wandered around for a few hours. We stumbled across a winery and it was, as they say, all over. She likes wine. She likes tasting wine. She likes this to such a degree that she has told me of her intent to have the many bottles of wine that she's accrued taken to an actual Self-Storage Wine Cellar (I can't imagine what this would look like) somewhere for something like $40/month. This makes no sense to me, I think mostly because I'm sane.

She is now bound & determined to convert me to wine as well. After three wineries over two days, it seems I like white wines over red unless there's chocolate within reach to go with the... What are they again? Oh yeah, "tannins". So now I've got four whites in the fridge and a red in a dark dresser drawer, and a lot of reading to do. I know, I know. Just don't even start, okay?

Saturday evening after dinner with the g/f (recently ex... that'll take a post on its own), we try watching Young Frankenstein. I understand why she's not seen this movie. She keeps falling asleep!! It's either that, or she's just been entirely too sheltered in her young life. Anyway, the following morning I come out of my room at 8-ish & see her already awake. Says she was up again at 7:30. I think Mario woke her up this time though. We'll see how she does going forward to see if she's becoming a morning person or not (if you know her at all, I'm sure you can guess the answer to that, right?).

During the driving around over the weekend:

Pouting from Jarvae: "Hey! Why did you lock the windows so I can't roll it down?" --extra pouty, even HURT look--

I checked the window lock & it was not on, then watched as she tried to roll the window down.

I replied, "Darlin', you've gotta push down on the switch instead of up. Works better that way."

Doubting me, she looks at the switch, pushes the other way and looks slightly irritated as the window goes down. "Oh..."

Of course I mention that only as a pre-emptive strike as she'll likely post a photo or two of me in a less-than-composed, goofing-off nature.

Metallica, One

Friday off... PARTYPARTYPARTY

2007-05-12T10:00:00.000-06:00

I took Friday off. No reason, just decided to take a three-day weekend. Saw a movie from the same guy that gave us Shaun of the Dead. Turns out that the movie also used pretty much the same cast as SotD, too. I enjoyed Hot Fuzz quite a bit.

Last night went to a going-away party of sorts; A coworker here is being sent to the desert for a while, so a bunch of us got together to shoot some stick and down some booze. Then there was the obligatory knee-to-chin incident as well (hey, get a couple Marines and an Army Ranger together with alcohol in the general vicinity and things happen. Good times)... Happily it wasn't my chin. I only got clocked as I stood too close watching someone take a swing at the Golden Tee game there. I ended at +16 for that course (I can't putt in that game to save my life). The other guy was swinging to slice a hard left and brought his hand right to my eye.

This morning was a good morning. After six hours of sleep, I got up with the sun to get outside & wash the car before the temp crept up too high. Started at 61 degrees, wiped off the last of the wax at 71 degrees, a mere two hours later. The Nissan is mostly pretty again ( #!@%*^!! Cottonwood tree keeps dumping its sap & other crap on it). Why did I do this? ... Forecast from the local station this morning:

... No really. I'd like to know why. A few hours later I went to the store and found a nice layer of cottonwood pollen covering it, bumper to bumper. Grrr. Anyone want to do some midnight chainsawing?

Gnarls Barkley, The Boogie Monster

Look, I'm heartless.

2007-05-04T09:00:00.000-06:00

Points from a CNN story.

"Democratic Party Chairman Howard Dean told immigrant supporters in Miami that a reform bill before Congress was "insane" because it would require many illegal immigrants to return home before applying for citizenship."
--Not insane at all. It's proper punishment to reinforce the assertion that we are a country of laws. Start over and immigrate to our coutry the legal way. Do we just give a child whose hand we caught in the cookie jar a reward? Maybe we should just "punish" those that drive 75 in a school zone by simply raising the speed limit instead of taking away their license?

"In New York, immigrants and their supporters added names to a painting of a tree meant to symbolize the American family and the crucial role of immigrants in U.S. history. People in the crowd then attached leaves containing names of relatives. "
"These people are hardworking people," said Djounedou Titi, a West African immigrant who has lived in the U.S. for eight years. "They deserve credit. And the only credit this country can give to them is citizenship."
--This is no tree. It is a weed. Slowly rooting into the concrete that was America, deteriorating it to a pile of rubble. "Added names to a painting of a tree"?? A tree of people that, with their very first step into this country, spit on the laws of our land? There are rules for a reason. Abide by them, or go shit in your OWN sand box.

Magda Ortiz, a 27-year-old legal resident from Mexico and mother of two, pushed through crowds on the city's lakefront with a stroller bearing a sign that read: "Bush, think about the moms. Stop the raids."
--Huh? I'm pretty sure Bush didn't BRING your infant over the border, or tugged your pregnant sister's arm to get her across the border between contractions to try to ensure your free ride. How about this: Why don't you think about your children? Why not set an example for them by following the rules of admission? Your children are NOT my responsibility.

"I want to send them back," he said. "I've been in the city for 40 years. They've completely destroyed our city."
--Okay, he's just a nut-job that the media apparently really had to hunt to find. They didn't get any other input from the opposition? Of course not. They only want the salivating reactionaries' view-point. Helps ratings, after all. Look, immigration doesn't have to be splashed broadly as ONLY filth-ridden free-loaders pouring in. Why are the stories of new immigrants, right hands held up taking their oath as new American citizens, not spot-lighted more often? Give these free-loaders something to aspire to.

"After last year's marches, which drew a million-plus protesters, the Senate passed a sweeping bill that would have provided a path to citizenship for many of the nation's 12 million illegal immigrants. But the bill was never reconciled with the then-Republican-controlled House, and legislation has languished since last summer. Subsequent bipartisan proposals have gotten more conservative."
--Oh, sure: When the Bush puppets were "in power" they supposedly blocked all attempts at this sweeping bill, but now that the toothless other party is in control... what? What's their excuse? Perhaps they realize that the puppets might have been on to something? Maybe that their own constituents DON'T want the borders wide open?

Roy Dunn, Further On Down the Line

Hear Elvis singing?

2007-05-02T20:26:00.000-06:00

So there's this problem I have. I live in a ghetto. I can't say it's the boonies, because I've lived there before in Montana. This ain't the boonies. This ghetto is so ghetto that neither Qwest, nor Comcast will bring broadband internet. That ghetto. The telephone lines that Qwest does have here aren't that great, but dial-up internet has peaked somewhere between 42 and 44k. Not bad for a PCI modem, until you try to use any ISP in this area. Not once am I able to complete a connection on the first attempt. It's just painfully annoying.

Then I picked up this cell phone that has a USB connection to keep my address lists of friends and family (and other lists) nicely backed-up. Lo and behold, I see it can even act as a modem for the computer with the data package I have.

A couple days ago, as I was getting connection speeds of a mere 24k due to awful noise on the phone line I thought, "What the hell, I'll give that a try. Can't get much worse than 24k fer cryin' out loud."

Try indeed. The first attempt connected me at 460k. Trying later in the day connected my computer at a "lowly" 120k. I don't know why the sudden slow-down, but I immediately called Cingular and upped my service to include their unlimited "MEdianet" package. Only $15 more on the cell phone bill, and I lose $35 for the home phone service and ISP charge.

Yeah, I can deal with four times the connection speed (ten times, on a good day apparently) with $20 savings per month. Yay for the home team.

I can actually stream Sirius radio now WHILE I ~~check out porn~~ download winders updates and irfanview and an occasional tune! ...am I, perhaps, just a little too happy about this?

Elvis, Money Honey

A Spring Weekend

2007-04-30T12:51:00.000-06:00

This was, I believe, is the first weekend this year to be above 80 degrees here.

Saturday morning stared at 7am for me. at about 7:30 I was the winner of maybe a dozen calls on my cell phone. They were from the girlfriend's son. At two years old, he's having a wonderful time getting into his mom's things. He knows right where the redial button is, apparently. I'd say "Hello?" and he'd go tell the dog that she was being bad. I think. He'd call her name and follow with, "No!" My guess is the dog was licking his face, but I'll probably never know for sure.

The g/f and I went to a comedy club Saturday night. I exaggerate when I say it was "night"; The show started about 5:30pm and went for a couple hours. Jack Willhite was headlining, with... Let's just call him "Fred". Jack wasn't too bad. Fred was a little better, but that's only because I didn't get a few of Jack's bits (when you start talking Country and/or Western music, I know nothing). Of course Fred isn't on the club's roster list for some reason, so I can't even point you in that direction to see the guy. Yeah, I suck for not remembering the guy's name.

Here's a nice dialog with the gal that I was trying to order a beer from. Either her hearing is about non-existant, or my voice is one of those that is just not heard.

Me: I'll have the Cherry Wheat.

Her: Some cherries, okay.

Me: No, CHERRY WHEAT.

Her: Oh, Cherry daiquiri.

Me, leaning closer to her this time and pointing to the BEER section on the menu:
No no... I want the Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat Ale.

I wonder if I need to not go there ever again if the guys there commonly order just a bowl of cherries and/or cherry daiquiris...

And then there was bowling after the late night of laughs ending at 7:25pm. You know how bowling shoes are supposed to slide as you bowl? No? Well they are. I would have done better sliding if I'd just left on my no-skid-mark-the-shit-out-of-any-floor-surface shoes. Everyone for two lanes either way could hear my shoes squeak to a halt a good two feet before the foul line.

Of course, a properly thrown ball is also supposed to curve in to the 1 & 3 pins (1 & 2 for southpaws), but oh well. I ended two games with 225 (total, not each).

Sunday was a day of car-washing and oil-changing. Since there was no rain, snow, or blizzards in the forecast, I saw that the birds decided to relieve themselves on the car's bumper between the wash and this morning.

The oil change went okay, except for that small amount of oil from the oil filter that spilled onto the exhaust pipe as I removed it. So I'll be that car that smells like burnt oil at every stop-light for God knows how long. I apologize.

I had a combination DVD/VCR deck that has been pissing me off to no end recently. Any DVD I put in would skip every minute or so, and the lens cleaner didn't do anything to help. So, thinking forward, I went out and bought an up-converting DVD player. Not a true HD or Blu-Ray thing, as I won't be jumping on that band-wagon any time soon (if ever).

Up-sides: No more damned skipping. On sale for a decent (even affordable) amount.
Down-sides: No tuner. No way to tell if the up-convert feature is worth a damn until I get an HD monitor, which isn't likely to happen any time soon.

The lack of a tuner is a pisser only because I don't have a long enough piece of coax cable to go from the antenna to the TV. That's easily resolved with a trip to Radio Shack for a coupler. The store that I picked up the player at had no coupler & wanted $20 for a 6-foot length of coax. That seems expensive to me. Actually my initial reaction was, "You've gotta be shitting me!"

That is all. No, you may not have that five minutes back. They're mine. ALL MINE!! AH-HAHAHAHAhahahahaha...

Midnight Star, Operator

What season is this??

2007-04-23T10:45:00.000-06:00

Washed the car over the weekend, and then saw this on the local news channel's weather forecast: "A WINTER STORM WATCH goes into effect for the foothills and mountains late tonight and will continue through tomorrow."

WTF?? When did we skip summer & autumn to give winter another go already? Guess I'll stock up on minstrels to tide me over until spring comes back again...

Jim Dugan, Let Me Go

P1126, I stab at thee

2007-04-10T12:30:00.000-06:00

The check engine light came on again. Fed up with taking the damned thing to the shop, I went out and bought a code reader for about $10 less than the dealership charges to run their diagnostic test. It came up with P1126. "Thermostat function" is all most online places define it as. So far, I've had the thermostat, the knock sensor and the coolant temperature sensor (uh, isn't that what the thermostat is for?) all replaced. The knock sensor was a different code according to an earlier mechanic trip, but they seem to be related from what I've read out there. The more complex they make 'em, the easier (and more expensive) they are to break, it seems. So essentially, I'm getting this light because the computer can't see what the coolant temperature is? Damned nosey computer anyway! And since no news MUST be really really bad news, on pops the light. I mistakenly cleared the light because I didn't RTFM. I'm sure it'll come back, though.

There was a link that I had stumbled upon that mentioned two other potential pieces that could need replacement, but of course I lost that link. I think I remember the jist it though: Remove the ignition key and replace the rest.

Metallica, Nothing Else Matters

Rollin'

2007-03-21T19:06:00.000-06:00

Driving to work this morning I was passed by a fast Mitsubishi Eclipse. Right after that, another Eclipse rolled by. A beat later, a third one went cruising on by.

All I could think was, "Wow, check out that Ecllipsis!"

dot dot dot

Yeah, I know. Don't quit my day job.

Beastie Boys, No Sleep Till Brooklyn

Diary Of A (bitchy) Nissan

2007-03-15T17:11:00.000-06:00

Sept. ’06: Was traded in by that ungrateful family that I moved from California to Colorado. Bastages traded me in for a Murano. After that hellacious climb over the mountains, after blowing out three speakers, and after losing the ashtray, they just cast me aside for some bimbo. How the hell do they LOSE my damn ashtray, anyway? Hope they choke on their leather seats. ::huff::

Oct. ’06: I can’t believe that sales guy took such a pittance for me. I mean, helLOOOO? California babe here? C’mon people! Though trading that Buick in was probably a good call on the new guy’s part. I hope he doesn’t find out about my occasional leaking any time soon though. How embarrassing.

Damn, this guy sure made up for the lack of dollars he was willing to put out for me. I got a full-on sponge-bath and wax job. Now I feel bad about hiding my leaky issue.

Nov. ’06: Uh-oh. This one really does pay attention to me. He took me in to see what my engine light was about. Thank the highways it’s a super-secret Nissan-eyes-only code. They were thrown off-track with a knock-sensor, but it may only be a matter of time now. He just doesn’t like to see something’s wrong, but what’s a girl to do? I can’t TELL him what’s up, of course.

Oh, new speakers. That’s much better now. Not that you’d know it from this ::gag:: death metal rock stuff he listens to.

Just what the hell is this white slippery stuff on the road, anyway? Wait, I’m in MONTANA? I much prefer the sand and sun of SoCal to this stuff. Apparently someone didn’t pay the heating bill either. It’s so cold, my little leak opened up to be a bigger one. He’s not the type to miss this, I’m sure.

Dec. ’06: Holy SHIT! That white freezing stuff has been falling all damn day! My paint is going to crack, and damn if I’m gonna get a pedicure to last in THIS crap! Oh, and THEN he takes me in for fresh oil where some knuckle-dragging gorilla twists my filter too tight. Get your paws OFF of me, thankyew! I must express my displeasure by dimming the lights when the radiator fans come on… not that they will any time soon if this freezing crap keeps up.

Jan. ’07: Ouch! I picked up OWW! A nail on this goat-trail of a … OUCHOUCHOUCH highway. Now you’d think he’s GOTTA get me some new shoes, but what does he do? He has them PATCH it! Where the hell am I? Petticoat Junction?? These are LAST SEASON’S Goodyear line. I can’t go stepping out in patched tires. ::sob::

Feb. ’07: Alright, I’m about done here. No bath since September, nails on the road, hundreds of miles a week… A girl can only do so much ya know. Vengeance plotting begins now.

Mar. ’07: I think he’s reading my diary. He just gave me a bath and it feels SOOOO good to get rid of that crusty junk that was building up on my paint. I’m still going to melt down though. Even better for that, he just filled me up with high-test petrol. Guess he’s trying to suck up.

Rats, he was taking me to the dealership for the engine light, so I had to move up my timetable. I started by flashing the Air Bag light, but he didn’t notice so I had to hit him where it hurts; I shut off the stereo. HA! And it won’t turn back on, either. Double HA! So I finally get the treatment I deserve: A lift on a flat-bed to the dealership (yes, the shoppers there were looking up to me in awe, I’m sure) where I was treated pretty darned good. So what if Mr. Cheapskate owner had to dig in to savings for me. It’s about time!

So a new alternator, new thermostat, and a regular maintenance tranny flush later, I’m feeling almost pampered again (which is all I ever asked for; Is that so bad?). I gave him his stereo back, but only because it’s finally starting to warm up around here.

Disturbed, Liberate

The dishwasher groans

2007-03-12T19:57:00.000-06:00

I can say tonight, in true bachelor fashion, that I have every piece of flatware in the house currently bathing in the dishwasher. Accompanying them is every bowl, dinner plate, and salad plate. Before you think me too much of a slob, please take into consideration that prior to the ex leaving, the plate herds were, shall we say, culled in fits of … whatever it is that temperamental ex’s experience at random times (okay, I broke one of the dinner plates, but I wasn’t hurling it at anyone at the time). Thus, a complete eight piece set is now four dinner plates, five salad plates, five bowls, two coffee cups and four coffee plates. The flatware was culled as well, but I never had to throw pieces of them away. Amen.

Anyway, it's a good thing I have frozen burritos, a working microwave, and beer in the fridge for dinner. Happily the bottle opener doesn't need to be washed, so it's all good.

Mozart, Symphony No. 1, ES-Major KV 216

Couldn't get much better

2007-03-04T10:43:00.001-07:00

What a great day to go skiing. Ten fresh inches of powder over the past couple days made the hours, well, demanding; I'm not in particularly great physical condition. At least I can still walk today though, so I call it a win.

On the way back down I caught this gem... I wonder where that lane is at?

Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, I Touch You Once

Conceit

2007-02-28T17:47:00.000-07:00

It's a mere twenty degrees outside and the interstate is just about a sheet of ice (as evidenced by cars facing unseemly directions on the shoulder of the road). Everybody is moving at about twenty miles per hour with an occasional run up to twenty-five, and when there aren't emergency vehicles making you merge to the right to let them pass, the tow trucks have their lights flashing to get around and clear non-emergency spin-outs.

So help me understand this, Speed Racer: Why are you messing with the radar detector stuck to your windshield right now? Do you really think the Highway Patrol gives a rat's ass about you and your ... -chuckle- ... Honda Civic? I'm passing you right now fer cryin' out loud.

Get OVER yourself already!

Alice Cooper, Eat Some More

Down time

2007-02-20T18:17:00.000-07:00

Unwind.

Kick back.

Take a load off.

Relieve yourself of mundane household responsibilities and bask in the glow of Slackerdom.

-or-

Spend a combined 24 hours over a weekend wrestling with new computer hardware before you come to the realization that maybe the marketing glossy wasn't entirely accurate "in your case".

A while back, this infernal machine started acting flakey. I did some scrimping and saving, and picked up some nice but not bleeding edge pieces parts. Replacing the motherboard meant a new CPU and memory. I could have gone with a motherboard with integrated video, but what fun is that? Hence, a new video card. Some people pester me saying I could have gotten a Dell (dude) or something similar for the same money, and have something that's already put together, no muss, no fuss. There are two problems with that for me.

First, I like building it. Pulling out the same Philips screw driver that I've used nigh on two decades for these projects (you may now gag on the nostalgia). Cutting open the static-protection envelope to see if the cat, who walked by ten minutes ago across the wool carpet in another part of the world, generated enough static electricity to zap the thing ANYway. Aligning the motherboard with the mount points. Plugging cables hither and yon, and on, and on... This is (mostly) fun to me. Occasionally, it's even challenging; Such as having a mid-tower case to cram everything into and hope it doesn't overheat.

Second, for the money they would spend on one of those pre-built systems, I can buy better components than Dell, et al., use in their one-size fits, well, somebody over there who only types in a text editor now and then. If they type slowly. I'm no hard-core FPS gamer, but I loath to have any game I load start to skip more than my Beatles album that my parents gave to me when I was five years old (and if you think about how your average five-year-old treats the black circle, you'll know what I mean). [Tangent: I wonder why my parents didn't like The Beatles?]

So about the assembly. Yes, your mileage may vary, but do yourself a favor and don't attempt to mess with Mother Nature. For if the optical drive were meant to be connected to the SATA port, it would have damn well been made with a SATA connector. Tread not into the blasphemy of "converting" the IDE port to mate in unholy union with the SATA!

Ahem... sorry about that. I'm not the boss of you, do whatever the hell you want. It can work with your IDE hard drive (that is, it's working with one of mine at the moment), but there's just something apparently not right when trying to do the same with the optical variety drives. Or, at least, with my optical drives.

And for the love of Mom's Apple Pie, ALWAYS...

No, wait.

NEVER try to update ANY software when you're only connection is of the dial-up variety. It hurts.

Megadeth, Disconnect

:grunt:

2007-02-13T06:22:00.000-07:00

I could feel it within. It was trying to emerge, but just could not make the transition. I tried to help it along, but my efforts only seemed to suppress its escape. Frustration began to build. So damned close, yet no relief. I stretched. I twisted. I tried all I could to secure its wonderful release.

Nothing.

I began to think I would just be tortured the entire day with it, just creeping into my train of thoughts through work. Distracting me on my drive home. God, will I know no peace?!?

And then I read this. Thank you Scott. That felt wonderful.

Megadeth, The World Needs A Hero

Oh, look

2007-02-10T22:06:00.000-07:00

So there is this street corner I drive by daily, and recently there was a Little Caesers Pizza joint opened up. Initially there was some high-school drop out standing out there daily holding a sign up to get the attention of drivers to let them all know about some deal. I couldn't tell you what it was; Every time I saw it, the sign was being held upside-down... Every. Day. Note to the store owner: You get what you pay for. That's all I'm sayin'.

They apparently got the memo, for what do I see there this week? A Little Caesers characater walking up and down the sidewalk, waving his little stubby arms.

Now, these costumes are made to be a bit larger than life to gain appropriate attention. You've probably seen big ol' subway sandwiches walking around periodically for Subways, or maybe a big sponge with arms (not SpongeBob) walking in front of a car wash... You get the idea. Large. Or at least, Tall. Unfortunately this has the tendancy to distort the character. Even more than usual, I mean.

So here's a Little Caeser character, stretched massively in the vertical:

Is it particularly wrong that this seems to me to be an eight foot tall toga-wearing penis? Standing in front of a big-assed sign saying Hot and Ready for only $5?

I may never eat pizza again...

Pablo Gargano, Trance in Saigon

God made me cool

2007-02-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

... and humble. Okay, now that we've all had a good laugh to clear the cobwebs away this fine morning.

This week has been an exercise at work. I was pulled from my daily duties to be a guest auditor. That is, I was asked... nay, I was expected to stab my nose into other peoples' bidness and sniff around to find any hint of impropriety. Invalid discounts on services rendered. Missing PO's or exposed credit card numbers. All that jazz.

I'm not sitting at their desk or calling them, but merely going through calls they've worked on to see if everything is there that is supposed to be. The idea being that I will gain some better understanding of process flow and how some things interact with other things in the company.

How about this: Apply the SOX audits to congressional actions. Yeah, that'd be a hoot.

Paffendorf, Be Cool

Oh, it's you.

2007-02-04T06:11:00.000-07:00

The moon woke me about ten minutes ago. So full (well, just past full) and bright, there was apparently no way some measley window shades were going to keep it from prying my eyelids open.

Before I woke, I was roaming the forest. I don't recall now if I had excess amounts of fur, chasing down some hapless hiker, but it makes me wonder.

Damn though. Six in the morning on a Sunday? For a fence-sitting Agnostic? Just ain't right, I tell ya. I'm going (to try to go) back to bed.

Ludwig Van Beethoven, Symphonie No. 9 D-Minor 'Alla Gioia' - 1st Movement; Allegro Ma Non Troppo Un Poco Maestoso

Memories of Fantasia

2007-02-01T06:37:00.000-07:00

Um... Okay. I'll be looking for that sunrise then (Yeah, I'm wasting time here with a blasted "test").

You are Death

Change, Transformation, Alteration.

People fear this card, but if you want to change your life, this is one of the
best indicators for it. Whatever happens, life will be different. Yes, the Death card can signal a death in the right circumstances (a question about a very sick or old relative, for example), but unlike its dramatic presentation in the movies, the Death card is far more likely to signal transformation, passage, change. Scorpio, the sign of this card, has three forms: scorpion, serpent, eagle. The Death card indicates this transition from lower to higher to highest. This is a card of humility, and it may mean you have been brought low, but only so that you can then go higher than ever before. Death "humbles" all, but it also "exults." Always keep in mind that on this card of darkness there is featured a sunrise as well. You could be ready for a change.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Tool, Enema

Just stay in bed

2007-01-31T06:14:00.000-07:00

I wish I'd have said that to myself this morning. "Larry, just stay in bed, buddy. It's a fucked up world out there, and it's snowing shit. Just stay in bed."

Nothing catastrophic, just a bunch of surplus piss-ant things that chose today to show their greasy, puss-leaking faces. Among them?

The mystery cut at the very tip of my left index finger. Feels like a paper cut, but I usually remember those kinds of things pretty vividly. The point is, THAT'S MY TYPING FINGER DAMMIT, and so is extra annoying baceause the bandage on it is really fucking with my ten-word-a-minute typing velocity.

The new water dispensers at work here. They are built with the devil spawn "automatic sensor" that senses when the glass you want to fill is almost lined up with it's devil spawn spigot, and proceeds to dispense water down the OUTside of the glass. Once the glass is completely in place, the stream shuts off, pissing me off to no end. I'm sure somewhere in the marketing glossy that our management team was sucked in by are the words "efficient", and likely "saves water". I assure you, it does neither. Instead, it increases sales in paper towels from having to clean up the fucking mess... (insert Sam Kinison scream here) If you work in marketing, please take no offense when I say you suck big green donkey dicks, and I hate you.

I'm not even going to tell you about the adventure in parking my car today, save to say that I did fine; It was the idjit trying to reverse into the space next to me. Again, and again... and AGAIN. I couldn't open my door until she was done because I wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't shear it off. (oops, guess I told you about it anyway).

Oh, and today is a twelve hour work day due to month-end. Hey, does that mean I can blame my demeanor on "That Time Of The Month"? ...nah, didn't think so.

:sigh: Just stay in bed Larry.

Candlebox, Cover Me

I can still count to ten.

2007-01-27T18:32:00.000-07:00

How I Met Your Mother had an episode not too long ago that briefly made fun of opening some consumer packaging. Specifically, the plastic shells that surround electronics and other items. The farce was opening one of these shells containing a pocket knife; If only they had something to cut open the plastic ...

Yeah. Funny easily grows from truth. I was trying to open such an item yesterday. Not to get to a pocket knife though, oh no. I had a pocket knife already de-plastic'd to do the cutting into a new toy's shell. The shell appeared to be easier to open, having had the equivalent of tack welding in two spots to seal it up. Two tacks, and I had just the tool to cut through them. I even felt confident that I had the brains to do so, as well. Alas...

The first step, slide the blade between the two layers of the shell, beneath the weld, and pry out & away from me. The first one went well. Easily, even. Half way to my goal, I was looking forward to the bit of fun I'd have setting up the new gadget. That was my mistake. If you become distracted for even a moment, Karma will kick your ass. I was repeating step one: Slide the blade between the two layers and get ready to execute step two of prying out & away. Sadly the second weld was not nearly as strong as the first; I slid the blade right through to my waiting left index finger cum knife-sheath.

I guess I shouldn't have been so diligent in sharpening the knife a few days before, huh?

So the blade goes with no small force into the thumb-side of my index finger at the second knuckle (a little research says that would be the PIP joint, if you're really obsessed with knowing).

Being me, I immediately pull back on the knife and see the quarter-inch wound happily start dripping. Honestly I don't think I stopped the knife going in. No, I think that responsiblity fell to the bone in my finger. It was a very weird feeling (I can still feel a very deep pain in the finger now). So blood is flowing, Mario is smirking at me with that "I saw that one coming" look, and I go to the bathroom to throw my finger under cold water. After a bit of a rinse, I put pressure on it and go get some paper towel to do a better job than just my bare hand.

Have you ever tried getting a single paper towel off the roll while one hand firmly holds the other? Ain't easy, but I used my head. Literally. I held the roll still with my forehead while I clumsily removed a towel with my pinky & ring fingers. I'm sure it was quite a graceful maneuver. Really. So after the third or fourth try, the industrial-strength, tight-weave sheet of paper towel comes loose. I'm certain that my verbal encouragement helped, too. Lots of "*"s and "@"s and "%$^!!*#$"s.

I let go the finger to grab the paper towel, and by the time I look back to place the towel on my finger... things are messy. I think to myself that maybe I should go see what hospital is in-network for the stitches I'm gonna need, but the thought of trying to type in that search with my forehead nixes the idea. Eh, I just need to add more pressure. Yeah, that's it. So I wipe some blood away to see where the cut is so I'm pressing on the right spot, and hold it straight up for a while, as I peek under it every 10 seconds to see if it's stopped yet (hey, I'm a guy). Ten minutes later I cinched a band-aid on to sorta emulate a butterfly.

It's been under a bandage since then (no, not the same one). I can still flex it and have feeling, so no permanent damage. Yay for the home team.

Out of the Bleu, Tool Shed

Here, kittykittykitty

2007-01-24T13:43:00.000-07:00

One thing I never have to do is call Mario the Wonder Kitty when he's getting the occasional serving of wet food. His favorite is Iams' Beef flavor, and they come in foil packets (yeah, it's relevant). Last night I pulled one off of the shelf. The mere sound of it in my hand was enough to bring the cat running to the kitchen, when a moment before he was in deep slumber in the far room.

Aside: He's got great hearing, right up until I'm telling him to get out from under my feet... Truly amazing.

So before I traverse the three feet from shelf to counter, Mario is standing right there with his front paws up against the drawers beneath the counter, eyes wide and meowing to the world that he's not eaten in weeks, pausing for a yawn since he just woke up. Yeah, it's a ritual.

Usually the foil tears away smoothly and easily, very much like those Heintz ketchup packets you get at your favorite fast-food joint. Sometimes it is more difficult, but still opens up with a quick tug. This time, the quick tug didn't do anything.

That's not entirely true. You know how the ketchup packets sometimes blow up if you're not too careful (or being extra mischevious, if you prefer)? Well... While the tug didn't completely open the packet, the extra pressure from that tug squeezed a quantity of the broth out at high velocity. Time slows down to a crawl as the beefy broth droplet soars toward the ceiling. I pull my best Neo-from-The-Matrix impersonation, twisting to move my face from the projectile's path.

SUCCESS!

Then gravity kicked in.

The droplet fell back to earth at an unfortunate time. That moment in time when Mario wasn't looking up at the counter, and so was unaware that The Beef Brothlette Of Death Or At Least Certain Splattering™ was headed right for him.

And splatter it did. Right on the top of his head, between the ears. You know how cats generally abhor "wet"? Mario is no exception to this. Were he a possum, he'd have lost a life right then and there.

At this point, Mario knows something tapped him on the head. Milliseconds later he is aware that it is not going away as he ducks and backs away. As feline anxiety builds, it continues to cling to him as he engages Mario Overdrive... on the linoleum floor of the kitchen. He is displeased that even the sudden acceleration upon grabbing carpet still does not relieve him from the grip of this wet thing on his head.

I don't know what happened immediately after this because my eyes were closed as I doubled over in laughter. Schadenfreude? I concede the possibility. ANYway, Mario is soon positioned under the end-table in the living room. He tries to scratch away the irritation with a back paw. One swipe is all he took. I cannot explain the look of disgust and horror on his face when he realized the stuff was now in the tuft of fur between the pads of his foot IN ADDITION to having just been smeared deeper into the fur on the top of his head.

It's not unlike what you'd do if you blindly reached into the breadbox and got a handful of mold. Quick, go look in a mirror right now. THAT'S the facial expression.

So Mario shoots his daggers of displeasure at me, and starts the arduous process of "bath time" licking his soiled paw. The surprised expressions just never end in this comedy, I tell ya. He wasn't used to paw-cleaning being so apparently tasty. Of course, adding insult to "injury", I had to wash the rest off of his head for him with a damp sponge. I wonder what's going to happen on the next wet food night? I'll keep ya posted.

Rush, The Big Money

Check that bill.

2007-01-17T16:53:00.000-07:00

I called my cell provider to have them knock off the pro-rated service charge that was billed before I even received the new phone. Nothing big, just over $8. I get on the phone & explain that since the phone did get here until the 3rd, I shouldn't be charged for service until that date.

He reversed the activation charge to make up for the error. To the tune of ~ $41 and change. Then he asks me, "Has everything been resolved to your satisfaction?" Uh, yeah dude. I'd say so.

Maybe eliminating the pro-rated charge is too much of a PITA, and in the interest of keeping his talk time down, he took an easier and virtually guaranteed customer pleasing way to resolve it. Whatever, I've pondered it too much already. A warm beverage awaits elsewhere...

Arak Pacha, Pachama - Schmeling Salas ("Who?" Here's a tune of theirs)

Cha-ching

2007-01-09T17:16:00.000-07:00

I don't know if Nissan is doing well as a company, but I'm not sure how they couldn't be when they charge $160+ for a half-a-matchbox-sized knock sensor. Labor is only an hour, but I'm sure you know what your local mechanic charges by the hour. File that under "Definitely NOT peanuts" though not entirely unreasonable.

So that piece of trash sensor was changed out, and I was then told about the radiator.

Yeah, it's leaking. Now it used to be that repairing a radiator wasn't such a big deal (somewhere in the $60-80 range). Would you like to know what fucked that novel idea up though? The proverbial wrench thrown into the works of a simple radiator patch job is everybody's favorite substance that, according to chemical companies, makes life easier, safer, and more efficient... Until repairs are needed. Then it's all a disposable world.

Plastic.

While the core of the radiator is still the status quo aluminum, the side "tanks" as they're apparently termed, have been altered from the former brass / copper material to the much cheaper plastic. I could have it repaired, and have it done at the bargain-basement price hovering somewhere around 90% of the cost of a whole new radiator. Let us ponder the pros and cons of such an amazing deal, shall we?

I've got a better idea. Let's not.

At least that damned Check Engine light is off. Again, that is.

Vivaldi, Summer / Allegro Non Monto

I jinx myself, and cock-a-doodle-doo to you too

2007-01-04T13:09:00.000-07:00

The Check Engine light is on again, dammit. Somehow I just knew it couldn't be that easy.

Among things I recommend avoiding if possible:

When playing around with a new toy, be sure you set the ringer on it for something that won't send the cat into fits when he wants to purr on your chest.

I got a phone call on it last night and hadn't realzed that the ringer I'd set it to was of ... wait for it ...

A crowing rooster.

Also of note was that the volume of the "ring" was not low, and was about 18 inches away from me. In other news, I have a collection of deep scratches on my chest now. OW! (I understand that the wimmins find scars attractive, so I guess I've got that going for me)

The Grateful Dead, Sugar Magnolia

--Enter meaningless title here--

2007-01-02T18:39:00.000-07:00

So the New Year's Eve festivities were low key at the homestead here. By "low key", I mean, "in bed at 10pm". Yup, such is my level of excitement that I was examining the backs of my eyelids that early. The way I see it, I've done the 'up til midnight on December 31st' thing enough times, in various states of lucidity. I don't need to do any more.

I was, however, woken up at 11:45 by a nice lady in New Mexico who really wanted to wish me a happy new year. I think. Here's what I heard:

:ring:... "Herrlo?" That's me trying to talk, freshly returned from dreamland. Now you know what to listen for when you call me.

"HIIII!!!!" My eye's pop open from the decibel level of this broad... "I JUSHT WA-- ::urp:: WANTED TO SHAY HAPPY NEW 2007!!! I LOVE YOU!!" At this point, I am now fully awake. Yes, it was her burp that gained my full and undivided, if slightly grossed out, attention.

"Um... Is this Susan?" I know exactly one gal in New Mexico, and she is 1) gorgeous, but 2) very married, and 3) not one that normally drinks to excess.

"NO, IT'S ME!!" Well, that just clears everything right up...

"Okay, well hello you. Listen, you have a great first ride on the porcelain bus this new year, and in the morning you won't remember you've got the wrong number. Good night now, sweet cheeks."

Eh, she might actually have sweet cheeks, too. Guess I'll never know.

On the Excellent News front; Took the car in to get the Service Engine Soon light remedied. Or at least find out what I've gotta save up funds to have repaired. My mechanic took the GameBoy for Nissans to it, and the thing called the car a liar. No trouble code found. The little light wants attention, apparently.

I had the guy banish the light with his GameBoy, and there was much rejoicing. Especially since there was no charge. Bonus! He says if it does come back on, there could be a "recall" thing that says warranty will cover getting a new brain for it. I still think cars should be sold withOUT brains (Hey, it worked for the Model T!), but that's just me.

More good news, a new toy was just delivered by the good folks at UPS. I must now geek out for the next couple hours, if you'll excuse me...

Delerium, Siege of Atrocity

Nebraska

2006-12-29T09:07:00.000-07:00

Heads-up. This is more political than vacation, just so you know...

Roughly 450 miles out there, and very uneventful. No bad experiences with snow or state troopers. No mechanical breakdowns or hiccups. Blissful uninterrupted music from the satellite radio. All in all a good seven and a half hours.

I saw three rigs jack-knifed (one of 'em a FedEx trailer... sorry for the late arrival of Li'l Johnny's gift, eh?), a couple cars buried up to their windows in plowed snow, and an impressive positioning of a Ford Explorer in the median, on its side and facing North on this east/west highway. Alas, the camera was in the trunk and anyway I didn't care to waste digital space with those things (yet here it is in stated form anyway).

The kids were... themselves, I guess. One of 'em decided to dig around in my wallet. Another was a temper looking for a tantrum, and found it repeatedly. ... I really love these kids, but damned if I witnessed more than maybe two instances when they were polite, or remotely resembled kids with any idea what the word "behaved" meant. Both of those moments were during church services (I was impressed, really). Even the few photos I took of them belie their incessant harassment of eachother. :sigh: I just don't get it. Or maybe it's because I was an only child that I don't understand it (they're children of a step-sister that I was seldom around). Gawd, I hope that's not it.

As to church; I'm agnostic, but to be part of the family I have no problem joining them to show respect. It's nice to meet some of their neighbors, too. I squirm every time I go though. The reason varies, but is almost always one of three primary reasons.
1) The charlatan. This creature hides in the rank and file of the followers of the faith. All smiles and courtesy, most devout in appearance. Then when you see them at the mall, they're the ones shoving through everyone else like someone entitled, dripping with arrogance and likely parked in the handicapped parking. Sadly, I've witnessed this to be the person in the pulpit as well.
2) The politics. Become a member and soon see factions in the aisles sizing you up as "with us or again' us" in true Good Ol' Boy fashion. Be a part of one, and you'll find that the mechanic in the other faction "forgetting" to tighten the oil drain plug on your car next month. Stupid in the extreme, but present nonetheless.
3) The Message. Maybe I'm just an idealist, but I've always taken the sermon as being education on the Bible, not a thinly veiled soap-box on who to vote for in November. Yet the latter is what I usually see happen.

Joked the pastor during evening mass as he tried putting down more than his pedistal could hold, "I need two pulpits." Gaining a couple chuckles from folks, he continued on. The squirming feeling came when he made an allegory comparing Jesus' decision to spread God's word to man with President Bush's decision to "spread democracy to the middle east". The jist of it was that just as the US is trying to bring democracy to a land that's not too inclined to accept this Western idea of freedom, so too did Jesus experience resistance in his works. The thing is, I have a hard time reconciling that:
a) Jesus was really given a decision to make regarding his task on Earth, and
b) putting him in the company of an idiot like Bush. (yes, I'm a registered elephant and I still believe the guy has naught but the intelligence of sauerkraut).
I'm of the opinion that separation of Church and State (or the illusion thereof) needs to be expanded to separation of clergy and politics.

Okay, so I am a cynical bastard. I'm sure that's the third door on the left in Hell that I'll be taking up residence in when I'm finally done with this coil of mortality & all. That doesn't necessarily mean I'm wrong, though.

Have a great & safe New Year's Eve, everyone.

The Who, Squeeze Box (Live)

Again??

2006-12-28T07:00:00.000-07:00

Another blizzard is threatening to blow through tonight and tomorrow ... and possibly Saturday. After getting back from Nebraska (more on that in a later post) I suddenly saw just how much that bit of snow last week impacted us. I'm not talking about the airport, and the reported half million people affected by its closing. I only had to go to the grocery store for some basics, but the produce area was looking like Communist Russia of the mid 80's. There was NOTHING there except brussel sprouts and bagged carrots. Yes, I bought the sprouts. Go gag elsewhere. The dairy section was looking pretty sad, too.

I'm just hoping this blizzard gets outta here soon enough that I can head up the hill for some New Year's Eve fresh powder skiing.

On the up-side, I'm hopeful that there will be no drought this summer. I know there's not much lawn left for me to water or anything (curses to property management), but still...

Uriah Heep, Easy Livin'

But it's a four-buh-four!

2006-12-22T18:11:00.000-07:00

So we had that blizzard come through. The state governor declared a disaster emergency in six counties, urging people to stay off the roads. Evidently some nut thought they could get through it. It seems they cracked.

Yes, we salute you, Mister "I-Can-Go-Anywhere-Because-It's-A-Four-Buh-Four" guy.

Oh look, a blizzard.

2006-12-20T20:27:00.000-07:00

Today I was passenger in the carpool to work, for the driver has four wheel drive (and there was much rejoicing). Why so happy about this? Well, here's what happened while I was at work... or, "Meanwhile, back at the ranch". Elapsed time from dry to this was eight hours:

Mario was wondering what the hell was up:

Let's back-track a tad, shall we? I didn't check the weather last night. I didn't check the weather this morning. I walked out to the car with no jacket... basically, this was me:

Yeah. Froze my ass off leaving work, thankyouverymuch. But at 5am, all was fine. A little breeze and mere hints of teeny snowflakes falling, no big deal at all. Thirty miles and a mere half hour later there's an inch of snow on the ground and I overhear "blizzard warning" from a passing coworker.

Long story short(er), management takes until 11am to decide to let people leave to go home before it gets ugly out there... Oops, too late. Grrrr. Two and a half hours later I get home. Carpool driver made an additional ten miles over the course of the following two hours on his way home. Two hours. TEN miles. Gee, it's a good thing we left before it got ugly.

First Run for the season

2006-12-16T15:12:00.000-07:00

I used my season pass finally! I decided on Keystone, reserved ski rentals online, and set the clock awfully early. (Note to self: Don't bother setting the clock so damned early. There WILL be wrecks on the highway no matter what time I leave, so just sleep the fuck IN! It is, after all, SATURDAY...) When I got there, I parked in the free parking about a quarter mile from where I needed to get the skis, which was a minor mistake. Live & learn: There are two rental shops feet from the free-parking lot instead of the one down the road... near the lifts I wants to be at anyway (Summit Express).

When I got to the rental shop, they predictably couldn't find my reservation. The reason they couldn't find it? Li'l Miss "I'm-On-Winter-Break-From-High-School" kept putting my first name into the LAST name field & vice-versa. No problem, really. It's not as though they were short on skis or anything.

So. Skis were clack-clacked to my feet. A pole occupied each hand (Whadda ya mean, "What were their names"? sheesh). The lifts were ridden. Many times. Came down various slopes (no diamond). Many times. Wiped out in exceptionaly sorry fashion. Ma.. uh, never mind. Point of that is: Nothing broken. ...okay, so I can't turn my head to the left very far, but still! (It's Monday morning now and I just tried looking left again... Ouch!)

I love skiing, but I have to wonder what the point is if I can't seem to get through even some simple moguls off the side of a blue run. Ah well, that's why I got the pass. So I can ~~die~~ practice.

The Pretenders, Time The Avenger

Route 66

2006-12-15T06:49:00.000-07:00

I like to drive. I like to just get in the car and roll down the highway. T'is the embodiment of American freedom, yes? You have this key in your hand. And when you crawl into this tin can of machinery, you slide the key into the ignition, give a twist, and go watch submarine races Friday night up at Canyon Ferry Dam... er, I mean make a 200 mile round trip with Mom's car when you were only supposed to be gone for an hour or so...

Really though, I mean you're ... Free. Nobody tells you what to do with any real effect (though some might make passionate suggestions if you cut them off). YOU are the "deciderer". YOU have the will, and exercise it to make your next stop down the road. Or decide to NOT stop if you get exceptional mileage.

Yes, there are some caveats... There are those shiny flashing lights that make your auto insurance carrier smile (not your agent, necessarily), those pesky "Do Not Enter" signs (sing with me: signs, signs, everywhere are signs...) but don't damage my calm, man. The tank is nearly full, and I'm rollin'.

In the past, I've been pretty much bored out of my gourd on the likes of I-70 from the Colorado-Kansas border (truthfully, starting east of Limon) en-route to Pigeon Forge, TN because it's so damn flat. Same for central Montana's I-90, the latest source of my insurance carrier's evil, despicable grin.

Anyone that takes road-trips on occasion knows full well that radio stations A) generally suck (a-la Clear Channel), or B) don't last more than an hour or two. I don't like taking a load of CD's with me because I just don't care that much to be careening down the road trying to shuffle out a new CD. I picked up a stereo that plays MP3s, which helps greatly on the "don't need to fling so many CD's around" front, but didn't eliminate it. And frankly, I've gotta say I'm getting kinda tired of the music I do have, which may number a hundred (and from across the land comes the echoed "AMATEUR!"). So Thursday I went & got Sirius installed on the car since the stereo was designed for it to be plugged in, and I'm planning another road-trip for Christmas. I'm liking this quite a lot.

T'is the... no, too cliché

2006-12-09T16:44:00.000-07:00

While work is rolling along fairly nicely, the ten of us in the group decided with the boss to take a half day off Friday afternoon at the company's expense. Have a nice lunch, unwind, maybe get a White Elephant gift exchange going... Done deal. This might seem pretty anarchistic and edgy at first glance.

"Yeah man! Get paid to slack off at some restaurant, dude! Oh wait! BAR HOP! YEAH MAN!" (pause for Pantera goodness... Hole In The Sky ... Okay, good)

Alas, this is a company-endorsed once-a-year thing that each manager can do for their team. Hasta-la-bye-bye anarchy. Fare thee well, edginess. We the team just decide when during the year to do it, and go.

I'm sure you're just as shocked as I to find out that most teams take some Friday in December to do this, aren't you? Yeah. Hey listen, if I missed your call... I really don't care, okay? I hope you left a message.

We also decided that, in the spirit of being a team, we'd get all chummy & take the light-rail together to the destination. So the four of us get on the train (remember that "ten of us in the team" bullshit earlier? yeah... anyway) and get a kick out of mocking the others on board. Mostly just the driver's voice, really. If you've ever seen Monsters Inc. and recall the guy that voiced Roz, a.k.a. Number One, you might be interested to know that person is the driver of the F Line from the Lincoln station up to 16th & California here in Denver. Combine that with a Napoleon Dynamite-esque 25 second siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggggggghhhh before saying, "Please keep clear of the doors as they close" and you have a great idea of what we were listening to at every. Damn. Stop.

Yes, they do have an automated voice with some nice lady that tells you what stop is coming next, but I guess this driver just HAS to make use of his talent and accompanying captive audience. I offered up a little prayer: "God, please speed us to the end of the line... I don't care if the brakes go out, just please make his narration STOP! My sides are killin me here from laughing so much, and the other riders are looking at me funny. Yes, that includes my coworkers."

So, meeting the other six people at the destination, much conversation ensues about entertainment (being Hard Rock Café, that's just going to happen). Well, at some point, boss lady mentions The Partridge Family's Danny Bonaduce & his reality show from a year or two ago. One coworker chimes in, "Oh yeah. He was a mobster, wasn't he?"

blink... stare ...blink

You hear the pin drop, followed by laughter. I dunno, did the Partridge Family ink a record deal by other than talent? It kinda makes sense. Unless (or even if) you subscribed to the "Ah, that creepy Reuben was getting some action on the side" theory.

I ordered the HRC cheeseburger. Heather was our waitress. Go there. Ask for her. Treat her well, and she'll take care of you. She kicks ass. Tip her poorly, and I'll kick yours. M'kay? So Heather asks how I want it cooked, and I reply, "I'd like to hear it MOOO when you bring it out, but whatever the legal minimum time that you're required to cook it will be fine."

Did I mention I'd taken the seat next to the group's vegetarian? She was displeased with me for that. Understand that when I say she was displeased, I don't mean she glared at me, or spun off on some vegan rant, or teared up at the thought of the cow remnant that was soon to be devoured in front of her. No, instead she took the high road and slugged my arm. Hard.

I ordered a Guinness to go with that slab o' meat. Sitting on the other side of me was our resident Muslim follower, and he slugged my other arm.

Yeah, I really like my team. We can vent as needed and not get all those fucked up "hurt feelings", and visits from HR followed by "sensitivity training".

Eating with two bruised arms was an interesting ordeal though. Still, it was a good burger. I'm even here to tell the tale as, opposed to driving the porcelain bus courtesy our good friend Mr. Coli, E. Yay for the home team.

I did my Capitalist bit by buying a damned t-shirt. That makes two HRC shirts that I own now. Pathetic, ain't it? On the up-side I have a dozen not-extravagant wine glasses that fucking MATCH from the White Elephant exchange, so I'm happy. (See Heather? I didn't say anything about those shot glasses you let the coworker slip into her bag o' goodies! ... uh, that is... ~nevermind~)

After the gift exchange and "See ya later"s outside on the 16th Street Mall, three of us meander back to the train (notice how we lost one of our initial four?) and head back down to get our cars at work. The day ends well.

Bruce Cockburn, Mary Had a Baby

BILLions and BILLions...

2006-12-05T07:00:00.000-07:00

To be added to search terms that Google cannot handle:
"convert 149597870 km to limes" I mean, don't you wonder just how many limes that would work out to? And how much accompanying salt & Tequilla that would require to get through?

... damn those pebcak errors!

So that Wil guy posted some math, and woke my brain up. Because of this, I had to follow through with the exercise.

For
C = 2 · π · R
and
R= 92,955,806-ish miles (one AU).

Solve for C
C = 584,058,562 mi (bear with me, it'll all be over soon)

And C over time: 21,026,108,231 mi for 36 years + about 438,043,921 mi for nine-ish months

That boils down to roughly twenty-one and a half Billion miles (imagine Carl Sagan saying that; he always capitalizes his pronunciation of Billion, doesn't he?) that I've travelled on this rock in my lifetime.

Covenant, Voices

Movies

2006-12-03T15:52:00.000-07:00

Here's what I've got. Whadda ya like?

No, I'm not giving 'em away or anything (not at this point, anyway). Just thought maybe a movie would be good to throw in & didn't know which I should watch.

So... Whadda ya like?

DJ Krush, Jazzanova

Blog about ... my blog. Shoot me now.

2006-12-01T06:34:00.000-07:00

Huh. After that last post, I did some minor house-keeping here; went ahead and "converted" to the new Google-powered blogspot, whatever that means. Also took a look at a few things... like the comments that needed moderation (I am SO sorry that I took so long on those; I'm just clueless, apparently), but also my profile.

"Age: 250"
I had no idea I was in such great shape for my age. I mean, I kept telling Abe that the secret to long life was staying mostly out of the public eye (ouch), but here I am now. Statue-less, and not to be found on ANY dollar or coin denomination. A quarter-millenia old. Seems like just yesterday I was hearing ol' Ben recounting his time in the Continental Congress... Whadda wind-bag. And make no mistake, at that time the dentistry profession was less a profession than a cult. Ben really needed some Tic-Tacs, ya know?

Maybe I should do some updating, huh?

Tired? Me? Why do you ask?

2006-12-01T06:30:00.000-07:00

I spent 6am to 8pm yesterday at work. Best part? The tool I use to do my job told me that I was done. Ten minutes before shutting down a manager comes by and asks about "The List". I say, "It's done. Have a go.."

"No, there are two left in there, one that's been done since last week."

Sure as shit, there's a call sitting since the 24th, ready to go. I didn't see it. Number Three didn't see it. So now the POS order manager system has taken to lying to some of us. Grand.

Upgrades are coming at the end of the year, which are touted to fix everything ... just like last time. It still boggles my mind, just how much cash money we've poured into this shit.

Our CEO gave his fiscal year end pep talk a few weeks ago. You know the one. Where he gives his hand motion in front of us all to advise how great everything is, and we nod our heads and tell the people next to us how great everything is... I admit the bonus is a nice one. Biggest I've seen since starting five years ago, actually.

Snow snow snow. Skiing time is soooo close, and the ski pass is burning to be used. Soon.

Oh! Happy December, everybody.

Combichrist, Without Emotions

Counting can be fun

2006-11-27T07:15:00.000-07:00

A Thanksgiving weekend in review

For each direction, there were 750 miles driven (eleven hours) and about 31 gallons of gas consumed, which equates to a mediocre at best mid-20's mileage. Let's also not forget that speeding ticket I got ON Thanksgiving by Officer Sphincter (85 in a 75 zone on I-90... gee, I wonder why the mileage wasn't that great?).

Oh, and to Wyoming's Fish and Game Department: It's time to send out the memo again telling the cute brown bunny rabbits to stay OFF the damn asphalt at 2am when I'm driving along. I turned one of them into a roadkill appetizer for an aquila chrysaetos to feast on later in the day. I did indeed see one of these grand scavengers on the highway enjoying breakfast a few hours later. That was one BIG bird. Had to have been a six foot wing-span as he lifted off to get out of the semi's way. Damn that I didn't bring the camera this trip.

And pass that memo on to the deer too, huh? I won't tell you what I saw spread here and there at about the mid-point between Casper & Cheyenne.

Over the weekend there was also:

One turkey carved and devoured.
One ham, dressed with pineapples & cherries.
Many helpings of REAL cranberry sauce. The kind that requires a stove top & pan, and no can opener.
Mashed potatoes & gravy.
Fruit salad, peas, warm bread & butter, not-from-a-box stuffing... The table was buckling under all the goodness.

But after that...
10 doses of Tylenol Cold non-drowsy (no, not all at once), totalling
- 6.5 g acetaminophen
- 200 mg dextro... hell, call it cough suppressant
- 4 g expectorant
- 100 mg decongestant
6 doses Robitussin cough syrup
- another 600 mg expectorant
and for night-time, 3 doses of Sudafed something-or-other that knocked my ass out.

So after that, there was time for some more counting for the drive home when 5am Sunday rolled around...
Inches of snow: 3
Degrees above zero: 4 F
Attempts needed to start the Nissan: ONE, which makes me all kinds of happy.

Not that I would have been totally crushed to have had to take a day off work due to being out of state and visiting my mom, but if the Nissan can handle Montana's version of an "it's getting a tad chilly" morning, I have no doubt that it'll handle Denver's worst "it's damn cold out there" morning.

187,000-ish scored on one play of Super Mario 3 on the original NES that my mom has had stashed away as her secret addiction (it's only a personal best, and in world 2 at that).

In other news, it turns out that my mom is an old-school gamer. How fucking cool is that? She tells me that some nights she'll stay up until 3am or so playing it. I had a talk with her, gently reminding her about those nights that she would chastize me about the Commodore 64 sessions I had until all hours. The irony was not lost on her, and I mourn the lost opportunity she had to contribute to my delinquency back in the early 80's. Ah well. Oh look! Three more star cards collected. 5-UP baby!

Micronaut, Gravitation Redux

ImposSiebel

2006-11-08T12:24:00.000-07:00

Hmm. So let's say you pay $2400 for a TV plus $180 tax at Best Buy, but you decide it doesn't show the swimsuit channel clearly enough and take it back. Best Buy credits you only the $2400. Wouldn't you be rightly pissed about the missing $180? My company is doing this to our customers for some asinine reason.

Oh, the customer gets the full credit, but only after the rest of us jump through needless hoops to manually pull an additional credit invoice out of the ass of this order mangler system. And we paid cash money for this system... I wish I could tell you how much fucking money we have thrown at this donkey-dick sucking piece of shit, but it's too obscene a number for me to even type.

Sister Machine Gun, Got To Be

Computer go boom-ish

2006-10-26T11:28:00.000-06:00

Those who get queasy from reading tech shit MUST LEAVE NOW

Wow, cool!

The primary IDE controller on my computer went belly-up, so now I can't boot (unless I keep trying for twenty minutes, and then wait a full TEN minutes for the boot to complete). Yay!

I'll try taking out the optical drive & see if it'll boot from the secondary controller more easily until I scrape up funds to get a new motherboard ... and CPU, since Socket A is a tad long in the tooth (so much so that I doubt it's been produced in a good two or three years). Anyone know someone that can use a working Athlon 1.2GHz Thunderbird series CPU? I'll even include the all-copper heat sink. Waste not, want not, don'cha know.

I could go budget & get a newer mobo that still supports AGP so I can keep my video card. Even so, I'd need new memory since my PC133 chips aren't going to fit anything new. I've got a pair of 128M sticks if anyone wants 'em (the 256M stick is spoken for). I think I'll splurge as much as I can though; I like games.

I'd thought about going to Dell/HP & the like for a new system (yes, even Apple, but I've got too much $$ in PC software to justify that migration). The thing is, I have many components that are fairly new and working great. Why get another optical drive, case & all when I have those already? I suppose I'm just not a true consumer. Oh well.

ANYway, I'm shopping for pieces parts. This does make me all kinds of happy. Now I've just gotta pare down the "nice to have" (I do wish the MSI K8N Diamond Plus wasn't so damned popular) to the "need to have" (I've not forgotten the need for a new power supply).

...

Follow-up: Booting from the secondary IDE does indeed work just fine, though I continue to get a brief delay while chkdsk does its thing. Every. Time. I. Boot. So yeah, a replacement is in the works.
----------------------

Psyclon Nine, You Know What You Are

You left it where?

2006-10-18T18:47:00.000-06:00

Last year (or longer?) there was a lawsuit against Palm regarding a problem with the low-end Palm Pilots (think m100's if you know what I'm talking about) loosing the memory when merely changing the batteries. I noticed this trouble, but didn't think to file a class action lawsuit over it. The guy that DID think to do that received $10k for being a PITA, but I digress...

The courts signed off on an agreement to (in addition to oiling the squeaky wheel) refurbish those items. Owners like me didn't get a dime, but did get a post-paid envelope to send the thing in for the refurbishing. I figured, "Okay, if they're going to fix it free, I'll take advantage of it."

I received mine back a couple weeks ago after a couple delivery attempts. The courier they used couldn't leave it without a signature, and always finished their run around 2pm. The old m100 Palms are essentially worthless, really, but I guess they didn't want to deal with a bunch of other squeaky wheels claiming they never got it back & demand a more up-to-date Zire or something. Okayfine, I went & picked it up from the distribution center. It seems to work, but I've not attempted the battery change yet to see if it does the same thing.

That's not the point of this post though. Amazing that I'd go into so much detail about that, huh?

I had splurged Monday & ordered a new huge (to me & my 17" CRT anyway) LCD monitor. I only paid for the run-of-the-mill ground shipping, figuring I'd get it sometime early next week. I would've been perfectly fine driving down to the distribution center again to get it since this same courrier delivered so early in the day. I checked online to see where it's at this morning. According to the tracking information, they (that required a signature for an obsolete PDA) left the monitor at my front door. Thank you, Fry's. I really appreciate that... and I'm also pretty happy that I didn't spend the extra $20 for 2nd day delivery.

The challenge was to see if I could get home before the hooligan neighbors around here sober up & go collect "abandoned boxes" in the neighborhood... I'm happy to report that I succeeded, and am really enjoying the new view from my chair! If you get a chance to pick up one of these, I'm pretty damn sure you will not be disappointed.

Joy Kitikonti, Joyenergizer (Psico Mix)

If I dig any deeper...

2006-10-10T06:44:00.000-06:00

I found a root sometime in the past few hours.

First some perspective. I have had nightmares for most of my life & could never figure out why. I wasn't knocked around at home, didn't get in to the liquor cabinet (much), let alone ingest/inject any other (debatably stronger) substances, as a kid. Didn't have any Uncle Molester that I had to visit. I just usually had gory dreams & never could pinpoint a root cause.

It bugged me, because I like to have a neat & tidy explanation for things (why this doesn't make me a dyed-in-the-wool athiest, I couldn't really say). A couple years ago, I made a conscious choice to not let it bug me so much. This coincided with me letting other things go a while after my divorce. I'd held on to some self-doubt for a while.

Anyway, I started writing a few of the nightmares down. One of my earliest remembered haunts came to me the other night. It was based in a waking incident one winter when I was knee-high to a grass-hopper.

We lived on a court. "Not a through street", as the signs say. One night I'd gotten out of the house because of some noise I'd heard. The moon was out, there were some clouds in the sky. There was one that was not like the rest though. The others were all just hovering there in the sky, no wind at all. One of those clouds, all poofy, was moving. I followed it as it drifted across the sky. Then it stopped. I stepped off the porch, and two steps onto the lawn, it started moving again. A little quicker that before, slowing down as it moved.

I stepped further out into the lawn towards the street because it kept going behind the roof line of the garage. Start and stop. I heard sounds of an engine revving, and thought, "What a weird cloud." Start and stop. Further onto the lawn I went, nearing the sidewalk. Start and stop. Before I knew it, I was in the middle of the street, looking at this odd-ball cloud sputtering across the sky as its companion clouds moved not one bit. The revving engine sounded closer. Louder. Then the squeal of tires brought me around on my heels to see headlights bearing down on me.

The revving went down with the nose of that car as it came to a stop not an inch from my chest. The odor of tires, locked up, filled my nostrils. Air rushed by me... through me... where I stood. The car rocked back and forth as it came to rest. The fan behind the radiator pulled air through, threatened to pull me through. I could tell you even now how many bug corpses were in the radiator of that Chevrolet Bel-Air, because I was sure to be the next corpse to be added to its fins.

A yell came from the front door of my house. It was my name, bellowed by my dad. Yelling at me to get in the house right now. Looking back, I see that I had cheated death. I was supposed to be a corpse in that grill. Because of a cloud. As I started running to the front door, I looked up at the last place I saw that cloud. It was still there. Glowing. Hadn't moved one bit, as though it was there, just knowing what was going to happen. It had lured me out to death's door (Christine?), and now appeared to be irritated that I wasn't taking up residence next to all the other bugs. That's when I was awake.
-------------------------------------------------
KISS, Detroit Rock City (as I peek out the window for any glowing clouds)

Leaving ... on a jet plane

2006-09-29T08:18:00.000-06:00

Oh how I'd love to not come back, though I wouldn't want to stay permanently at this weekend's destination. I suppose I like Houston as much as the next guy, but if my friends moved to someplace a little less humid, I don't know that I'd ever go back there.

This weekend's happiness is to be camping at the Renn Faire near Houston with friends. Since I've not taken any vacation for a whole ... (flipping through the calendar) six weeks, I thought I'd head on down there, hug friends, chew on turkey drumsticks, and participate in the Great American Past-time known as spending cash. Though I guess that's more like the Mediocre American Past-time since I'm not putting anything on credit cards, but I'm okay with that.

Really though, this is the last vacation I have planned for the year. Until I figure out what to do for the holidaze anyway.

The Start, The Underwater Song

Surprised, though I maybe shouldn't be.

2006-09-22T08:44:00.000-06:00

I made the second payment on Bobbie, and her "Service Engine Soon" light poped on this morning. Sure, Bobbie's not new (at 101k miles), but still. She's not missing or sputtering or anything, so here's hoping it's something minor, like an O2 sensor or something relatively benign like that.

shorting out

2006-09-18T10:41:00.000-06:00

The desktop is becoming a might unstable these days. For s system that I put together over five years ago, it's done pretty well. Until yesterday: It wouldn't boot up, saying there was no boot device. Turns out the primary IDE controller somehow 'mis-fired' for lack of a better term. Reset button didn't help, but power-cycling the thing was just the kick in the pants it needed. I'd hoped (as ever) that it would last a couple more years as I pick up new pieces parts to build the next monster, alas that's probably not going to be the case.

By "monster" I don't mean viciously fast hardware, so hot off the assembly die that even Tom's Hardware hasn't seen it yet. No, just something that will boot up, play nice, and give BSOD's a little less frequently than I've been getting with the current iteration. How many and often is that? Two, actually. One of those was from the first OS install. There was certainly another, but can't remember when. Probably happened as I attempted to overclock the 900MHz Duron processor that used to be there... Yeah, raw POWER baby!

Heck, the only hardware changes I've had to make to this box was one hard drive, and the oh so nice Altec Lansing speakers (lasted six years and change). I don't count the modem or CPU swap, nor the video card updates because the initial pieces weren't actually broken. Just slow.

Atomica, Worry

Is there a full moon out?

2006-09-16T20:44:00.000-06:00

One of the forums I frequent has been in a sad state lately. Everybody bitching about so little. Is this maybe some kind of test to make sure one is able to go absolutely ape-shit insane before the holidays begin? Because, if it is, I'm boarding up the windows and putting another dead-bolt on every door. What the fuck is wrong with you people?

Taking offence at someone else's opinion who believe one peoples or another make fantastic lovers (not a racist statement), feeling it's an affront to all those who differ?

Lashing out because you think this style of driving is heinous and the lashee gives another perspective?

Slamming one person because they chose to protect and insulate themselves while you allow YOUR SPOUSE to wallow un-aided because it should be the other that deals with their issues instead of you?

Fuck!

...wait for it...

Can't we all just get along?!?

Whitesnake, Still of the Night

What day is it again?

2006-09-13T19:08:00.000-06:00

House is clean-ish. The way I see it, if there's nothing crawling up outta the drains and the color of the carpet is a) identifiable and b) same as when I moved in, it's a win. A couple more people have viewed it, but still no offers. Even with the fucking curb appeal that was imposed.

Ice Cream Social; Work is putting on a fundraiser for United Way, so tomorrow ice cream will be scooped, toppings will be dribbled and sprinkled, and people will be like pigs to the mud pit. They might even fork over some donations, which would be nice. I've got scooping duty for a half hour, so we'll see how it goes.

ponder

S.U.N. Project, Fatal Error courtesy DNA Lounge Radio

Wednesday? Already?

2006-09-06T07:00:00.000-06:00

I love it. Short weeks are always a winner in my book. For the three day weekend, I washed the car. Such excitement, huh? Also pulled together the DVD's lying around & compiled them into Movie Organizer. Though not without flaws (print formatting is a challenge for DVD's with a long title), it's a very nice setup that will pull the data from its own MOODb and IMDb for the movie using the UPC code and/or title. This is less than useful if your DVD was a box set whose UPC was on the outer wrapping that you threw away long ago. Oops. For the price, it cannot be beat. Take a peek, if that's just the thing you've been looking for. Pay what you want to via PayPal. And it's so there's that.

Of course, I still have that half gig of photos to post somewhere (after resizing). Work work work...

Nocturn, Flirt (Part I) via DNA Lounge Radio

Good gawd

2006-09-04T16:07:00.000-06:00

Al Capone is still alive. Yes, it is true. Want proof? Well I'm sure he's keeping away from the cameras, but it seems he's pulling the strings of extortion through a front company known as [name withheld for the moment... fucking libel laws anyways]. Tenants whose homes are on lands owned by the bastages are being bled dry by a landscaping paragraph. Not that the stipulations there are observed even by the bastages... Much of my yard was ripped up and redone according to this paragraph:

"6b. Landscape Improvements - ...snip... Landlord may require Resident to repair, replace, or plant additional landscaping to meet approved requirements. Resident shall be responsible for repair or replacement of trees, shrubs, lawn, fixtures, and other improvements on the Premises damaged or destroyed due to the negligence or the intentional acts or inaction of Resident, its guests or invitees. Or, upon five (5) days prior notice to Resident(s) that he/she failed to adequately maintain the Premises, Landlord may, but shall not be required to enter upon the Premises and conduct the repairs and/or maintenance, and may charge a reasonable fee for services and/or materials incurred by it to maintain the land and Premises upon which the Manufactured Home is situated, and bill the Resident the costs thereof as additional rent. ..."

It's not so much the price for the work performed that was disturbing (but make no mistake, $2k is not reasonable for what was done). The extent of work done is what chafes my ass right now. The fuckers ripped up healthy lawn to expand the amount of "refurbishment" required, no doubt to bring a smile to their accountants feces. Oops, I meant faces (really though, could you tell the difference in the first place?).

That they failed to provide that five days notice that they self-imposed didn't slow down the greedy bastages one iota, of course. Legal consultation is in process.

Ted Nugent, Cat Scratch Fever

Crosseyed

2006-08-23T18:40:00.000-06:00

Just picked up the first pair of replacement glasses since mine were lost at Laguna Seca last weekend. I figured this way when (not if) I lose the next pair, I'll have a backup set that's not chipped and scuffed as the current backups are. These new ones though, I don't like them. I have clarity & all, but the right lens is much more convex than the left, which is fucking with my depth perception. It makes my left eye feel weak, if that makes any sense.

Now, I'm not talking about a huge correction factor here; I don't need glasses for day to day stuff or to drive (though I wear them when driving at night). I'm going back to this doc tomorrow to see what the poop is on this, because this sure as hell didn't happen with my other glasses. The scuffed backups don't give me the grief that these are, and I see everything clearly with them.

grrr

Buddha Bar, Mambo Craze

5:10 am

2006-08-23T07:06:00.000-06:00

I'm late. I slept right through the infernal alarm clock that was blaring (I'm guessing, based on the weird just-waking-up dreams) Buddy Holly's Peggy Sue among other "oldies". I find it's better to wake to music that there's an off chance I might actually like rather than some shock-jock wanna-be giggling about fart jokes. Yeah, Denver is really grown up in the radio DJ scene, I tell ya.

Okay, so I really hate it when the radio station I wake up to plays anything by Tom Jones. I admit that get's me flying out of bed to cross the room and shut the music off, but if that's all I was looking for, I'd leave it set to the fart-joke channel.

Anyway, I'm late. I'm also congested. Well, half congested & half running actually. It's bad enough when your damn nose doesn't know if it wants to run like Niagra or stop up like Crazy Glue. It's truly a sad state of affairs, however, when one nostril goes the Niagra route and the other nostril attempts... nay, succeeds in its quest to solidify.

Did I mention that I carpool to work? No? Well, I do. I call my ride & tell him to pass me by. Catch: He's already in the driveway. Fuck. Okay, rapid PBA bath & hair/tooth brushing, dressed (matching socks even) & I'm out the door in ten minutes. I'm sure I'll be castigated for mentioning how much I love being a man, but what the hell.

So I'm at work getting my caffeine buzz on when I've finally had enough of the nostrildammitallus & take some Tylenol Cold (non-drowsy). Big. Mistake. My fingers are all tingly. My nose is battling the Tylenol. Serious battling; I feel the cartilage in there ... adjusting with each chemical volley to counter the other. So much for the blood donation today I suppose.

Coworker has been struggling with math. He's taking an Algebra course and was having trouble with a two variable problem. His solution? Just eliminating the letters makes it much easier. :groan: He'll probably be promoted, too.

Stevie Ray Vaughan, Rude Mood

Explicative-free zone, one day only

2006-08-21T19:52:00.000-06:00

The weekend... it was a mixed bag. The races were pretty good. Three Ferrari 250's placed one-two-three in Sunday's group 6B. 6A's big iron roared fantastically on Saturday, and there was only one car-damaging wreck & no driver injuries. In that, it was great.

The post-race conversations where politics and other world issues / crises are solved... well, that just fell through. It seems that while I may be my dad's son, I'm still only a child when debates and discussions are brought to the adult's table. Being interrupted, talked over, and generally ignored made me feel like just going with the thirteen year-old son of dad's business partner to ride bicycles. Only as long as we stayed in sight and out of that dangerous traffic (/sarcasm). In truth, I did get up and walk away, completely unnoticed. I suppose I should be glad someone didn't pipe up with, "Say Larry, could you go to the cooler and get me a beer? Be sure to use both hands now." (okay, NOW /sarcasm... really!)

Photos. Half a gig of photos await downloading & distributing, but I feel more like just deleting the lot of 'em.

And in the bad news department (yeah, it got better upon my arrival home), the property managers did the landscaping for more than half the yard here. Looks like absolute ass, and I am just ever so looking forward to the forthcoming bill for it. It's gonna be hell to try raking up Cottonwood droppings, too.

I think I'll go for a swim over there in that pool... the one with the big letters on the side that says (Lord help me) "Coors". This weekend is just so far beyond explicatives and colorful metaphors that I'm not even gonna bother with 'em

Seefeel, Moodswing ... no shit Dick Tracy. (oops, an explicative... so sue me)

VROOOOM

2006-08-16T07:16:00.000-06:00

T minus six hours to end of work, and start of security checkpoints as I head west. I'll be back next week. If any one needs me, I'll be roaming the paddocks here, or sitting near turn 5. Or 8A. Or maybe ... hell, I dunno. This general area:

Regenerator, Blink

Why don't I have cable? Lemme 'splain...

2006-08-06T16:26:00.000-06:00

NASCAR attendance is up

"Everyone from corporate bigwigs to rappers and actors are starting to bring attention to this full throttle sport. With that kind of star power and the money it brings, it's not too hard to imagine that an influx of new blood was sure to follow."

Yeah, or the fact that televised events have 80% commercial and 20% race, FORCING any potential fan to go to the flamin' event to see what the ruckus is about... Good grief Charlie Brown! I tried watching some of the Allstate 400 at the Brickyard in Indy today after washing Bobbie (more on that in a sec)... TV turns on in the middle of a commercial. Back to racing for two laps, and another 15 minutes of commercials. Races again, maybe three laps and another commercial break. C'mon people. Fifty laps of racing took place and I saw a whopping seven laps of it.

This morning I woke up around 7am and thought it would be the perfect time to wash the car (further proof that I'm insane), and if I was really lucky I could manage to get a coat of wax on. It was overcast & 60-ish degrees. There were a couple minutes of drizzle that irritated me, but nothing bad enough to really get in the way. I now remember why I hate waxing cars. I'm in no kind of phisical condition to do this! "Elbow grease" my ass; I sweated a gallon before finishing the job. Did I mention it was only 60 degrees? So now Bobbie's got a nice coat of wax. I even put on some Rain-X on the windshield. Shiny.

Creedence Clearwater Revival, Hello Mary Lou

Today's word is Calcified (kal'-sihf-eyed)

2006-07-29T19:01:00.000-06:00

Used in a sentence: When one of the two roots in a typical tooth is found to be blocked once a root canal has begun, it is said to be "calcified".

Synonyms include: "I may have to refer you to a specialist" and "Expect to pay out the currently-numb nose" (that latter also known as, "this won't hurt a bit")

Tooth number 12 was drilled on today. From the start, I was fine & felt no pain. Okay, granted: She truly did shot enough novicane in my mouth to numb my NOSE... Then she came to that damned calcified root. I must note here that she is about the best ever dentist I've been under the drill for. Honestly. I'd refer her to anyone. Perhaps especially to the Horndawgs, because she's (oh my God, DON'T SAY IT!!) cute as a button (*sigh* he said it). But after uncovering the "C" root, all pain broke loose. It was pain-a-licious. The Pain Train has arrived en-route to its final stop, Pain Central Station. ... So she adds more novicane until even my lower left eyelid doesn't seem to want to work right.

So, in case I didn't convey this clearly enough, that was the worse of the two roots. More, it looks like she might not have been able to finish it off because that "calcification" thing could be deeper in the root. I can only conclude that the best thing I could have done to avoid this is to not have included any milk or other calcium-containing foods in my diet. Don't pay that last sentence any mind, kids. Be good and take your calcium pills...

The last part of the first half of the procedure today (yes I must go back to see the cute-as-a-button dentist... poor me), is to pack the drilled-and-reamed roots with some medicated material & let it stew for a couple weeks. After that, if there's no more calcification going on in there, I'll start having a cap made for the tooth. Maybe.

Hey, I was twiching from the nose-numbing, eyelid inhibiting, novicane when she went over that part. All I know is that I have to fill this prescription for the antibiotic that I also have to take for a week, and also the vicodin for the presumed forthcoming pain (actually it's starting to come to me now).

Even after all that, as I sit typing this, I do believe that coming off of the novicane is about the worst non-drilling part of the trip: I have an itch on my cheek, but it's totally numb when I scratch. It's as if I'm scratching a plate of glass that's over the itch. It sucks.
....
I typed all that up about three hours ago. My face has all its feeling again, but if this tooth begins to throb much more I may just tell Princess Vicodin to do her stuff.

THE GOOD NEWS: My dental insurance, bucking the trend of about every other insurance carrier I've heard of out there, has increased coverages. This root canal, had it been done last year would've been 70% covered, now is 80% covered. If I have any "major" work done (I'm assuming this is the "rebuild your jaw" type of scenario), that coverage is up from 50% to 60%. Not quite enough to put me in a Snoopy-dance mood, but it's helpful. The down side is that I have to put out $2,000 for dental stuff in a year before they cover 100%. Two grand? I don't plan on even spending last year's threshhold of $1,750 for that to kick in!

Of course that has me trying to think of how much pain $2,000 would buy me there ... And how much of a better deal I could get in a red-light district somewhere for the same money.

(this all transpired about a month ago actually. I'm all better now.)

AmFam.com

2006-07-29T10:02:00.000-06:00

I'm trying to give you money. You should be happy about this. Is it just some Schadenfreude thing that makes you want to watch me squirm in the attempt or something? Hoop after hoop after hoop must be jumped through. Flaming hoops and flying piranhas snapping at my every move, only to be given a "Go Directly To Jail" penalty for some stupid unwritten 'rule' of yours, requiring me to start. All. Over. Again. Case in point:

>login - ********* enter
--login failed, incorrect username or password (Okay, this is where I fat-fingered it. My bad.)

>login - ********* enter

>thank you. how may i abuse you? - View Bill

>thank you. please log in.

>login - (Okay, so I realize this is one of those sites that won't work on any browser not branded by Redmond's Overlord. Close Opera and open Internet Exploder)

>login - ********* enter

>thank you. how may i abuse you? - View Bill

>thank you. You have one account with us, but i will require you to click on the one and only account number anyway, just because i can. select the account you wish to view. - click

>thank you. you have no method of payment in our files. to make a payment, enter account information first so that we have a firm grasp of your scrotums. select checking/savings account, or credit/debit card account. - credit/debit

>thank you. enter card type, number, expiration, bill-to address, ship-to address, and deposit fifty cents for acknowledging your existence. - type-n-enter

>thank you. now, here are your options: pay your regular monthly amount. alternatively, pay an amount three times as much, just for grins. alternatively, pay the full balance which is four times the monthly amount. alternatively, fill in the blank amount. - monthly

>thank you. i'm sorry, but credit/debit cards can only be used to pay the full balance. to return to the view bill screen, click here. - (I am NOT making this up... :sigh: ) HARD-CLICK

>thank you. please log in to continue.

>login - (Wha--? No fucking way!) use the browser history to go back to what looks like the 'view bill' screen

This continues on, far longer than it should have. Paying a bill should not require more than four screens:
Login
View Bill
Enter card information in one screen to pay bill
Logout
Okay, maybe a fifth screen in there to confirm you didn't enter Donald Trump's credit card number. He can't afford my insurance bill.

Still, I am truly amazed that anyone can remain in business with that kind of pathetic and frustrating web presence. I guess they still have enough non-web-savvy folks that pay their dues... So I will definitely be dropping this insurance provider at the end of this six-month stint & going to someone else. I suppose I could drop them now, but at the moment I just don't want to go through that particular hassle right now. November cannot come quickly enough though.

Guru, Feel the Music

:yawn:

2006-07-27T07:30:00.000-06:00

Added to the list of things I am no longer allowed to do (into the "Sleep" category):

Partake in any caffienated beverage after 6pm... Unless I would like to remain bouncing off the walls at midnight and later, regardless of the fact that the alarm clock is set for 4am.

Granny was moved into a care home. I really need to get out there & see her before she's no longer there to go see.

Water the grass

2006-07-19T06:53:00.000-06:00

I've been house sitting for over two weeks now on the premise that I was to keep the back yard watered. New sod had been put in a little over a month ago, and apparently it requires much watering as it all takes root. I have no problem with this, but every day save one that I've gone down there it's rained hard. Last night, half-inch-diameter hail came down. HAIL. Ah well.

Two problems there; First a light bulb burned out. Once I find where they keep the light bulbs, I'll replace that. Or the hallway can stay dark, I'm not too worried about it.

The second problem; I was in the other room when I heard a crash and then a bunch of loud buzzing at the rear sliding glass door. My first thought is the microwave oven on the counter there was posessed. When I took a look though, I saw that this wall-mounted pedistal-almost-sconce next to the rear door had come loose & fallen, hitting the power button to the vacuum cleaner right below it. So now I'm thinking up a nice explanation that sounds more plausible than, "Dude, the thing just fell man..."

So I had this party, see. About a hundred or so people showed up, and one of these people had this pet monkey... ya with me? Well, the music's thumpin and this damned monkey is dancing on the pedistal, right? And I guess the monkey was pretty in to the music, because just as Kajagoogoo hit that first "Too shy shy" line, the little guy comes down on the pedistal and takes it right off the wall. Total bummer. I mean, if I'd known that a bunch of hot gals would come running up to see if anything was broken, I would have been dancing on the damn pedistal! So anyway the monkey's owner says you owe them like a thousand dollars for medical expenses or some bullshit... Oh, the grass is looking fantastic out there by the way, bye now.

Yeah, that'll do.

Jet, Cold Hard Bitch

strange house

2006-07-13T19:59:00.000-06:00

It was a war.

The bunker was battered, chips of concrete in the walls falling away from repeated hammering from the outside (and in, actually). The back wall has caved in at one point, exposing the loose soil behind it. Dirt, powder, and spent casings litter the 15' x 20' floor. Flashes of artillery explosions and lightning come through a six foot wide, two- or three-inch tall opening that I crouch under, casting erie flashes and silhouettes against the back wall. Through that opening that looks down on a wide valley, other sounds of war come through all too clearly.

"Oh God! Make it stop! Can anyone hear me? HELP ME!"

To my left, the S-entry going out the front (flawed design I'm sure, but this isn't an "accurate depiction of warfare architecture" dream). The back wall of that shows the flashes as well.

"No! Get away! NOOOOOO!" The lightning flashes, throwing the flickering shadow of him on the back wall, held in the air by the throat. What holds him up is a definitely non-human arm. The voice goes silent, replaced by thunderously grinding bones of what used to be his neck.

The others in the bunker with me eye the entrance apprehensively. Some have an oddly accepting, relieved look on their faces; Whatever it was will no doubt come into what has become our little hiding place. Relief that the end is finally here.

Nothing enters. A moment, an hour, an eternity goes by. Nobody has blinked. I pull my eyes from the entrance and focus on the back wall's breach. I move to that opening as quick as I can over the course of a day. Nobody notices. The soil is brittle, easily flaking away as I scrape at it with my helmet at first (some World War One looking thing) and then my hands. The artillery continues in the night outside. The faint screams. The inhuman growls and howls. I continue digging.

Head-first, I seem to make quick progress, but nobody follows. The dirt I loosen in front of me, I push back with my feet. Eventually, the opening behind is closed up with the dirt I move, so there's no light. Dig. Dig Dug. Digging farther in darkness. I have no concept of how much time has passed, but I decide to start up. Diagonally I continue, maybe 30 degrees, maybe 45, but definitely up. The dirt begins to get moist. Or maybe my fingers are bleeding. I neither know nor care. Dig. Scrape. "Get away from there," is my only thought. So much so that I don't realize that the moisture has grown. Each scoop is mud now, and it drips down on my face. I realize now. I realize it's far too wet. No option now, as clog after falling clog starts the inevitable cave-in. I push up with my fists as the mud pours down intent on encasing me.

Only the air moves up. My legs are already pinned as I move my left arm out of the path of more earth. My right arm reaches up in vain, as now my waist is pinned. My scream isn't wholly voluntary once the earth compresses my torso and breaks my left arm. The fingers on my right hand extend the last inch, breaking through to a cold wind.

POP

That's the sound I hear as the earth and water slam in on my skull. Now I can only wait. Wait the eternity as I struggle to move unsuccessfully. In the darkness, spots of light come. My mouth tries to open involuntarily to gasp air where only earth exists. The lights grow brighter. Flashing. Pulsating. I feel. Every muscle at once groans its last contraction with all it has. My body almost moves at that point, and the lights explode.

The earth I'm encased in draws apart in my view, showing a cross-section of the dirt holding me in my grave, and the boulder I was digging under that ultimately foiled me. My body's fingers feel the air, but that is not mine any longer. The image melts away.

How to describe death? Nobody's been back from it, so there is no description. I know what I perceived. Probably it would be more accurate to describe what I didn't perceive. Life.

Okay, I'll elabrate as that says nothing, really. To describe requires a benchmark. A frame of reference. Take a certain hue of the color "Blue". Take the scent of "Campfire". Take the feeling of "Love". Represent each with an atom. The "Success" from your past. The "Noise" of your favorite fraction of a second of music. The "Feel" of a nine volt battery on your tongue. Continue this compilation of atoms and you will build an atmosphere of "Life".

Death is a complete vacuum of that. It's not dark. "Dark" is an atom, and in Death is absent. Even the word "nothing" is far more than the sum of Death. No "Cold". Not even a sense of "Self" is here. Not physical; I don't look with eyes. I don't know how it is that I perceive this vast emptiness. I don't even know how (or with what) I perceive "I". And fear starts to creep in. Yeah, this late in the game I finally get fear. And it builds; The uncertainty (what's next), the paranoia (how long will I be here), the NEED to just move (where/how/what is this), or even feel a sense of movement (oh God). Straining to move here just as I strained under the boulder. Then a tear opens.

I feel again the earth holding me as my arm pulls my torso from the dust and I look up at a brightly brown sky. It's so dry now, so barren. The boulder is gone. The landscape is a vast flat desert now, dry and cracked soil at my fingertips (what is wrong with my fingers?) and stretches on as far as I can see. Finally my feet break free from my former grave. Standing up, I start walking (I'm limping badly... why can't my left foot work right?).

Left, right, left... The next fall my right foot makes, everything changes. What was cracked soil is now drenched grass. The rain falls in buckets as I step onto the sidewalk from someone's front yard. Finding myself on a nice little Leave It To Beaver neighborhood street that curves to the left, I walk (what IS it with my left foot?) along the street. Illumination from a set of headlights reaches from just around the corner, and I hear an engine droning on as the tires splash through the rainy surface of the road. The illumination comes around the corner, but there are no headlights. There is no car, no tires, nothing. Just the sounds that a car would make as driving along in the rain, and the light that would come from a set of headlights. But no car.

To the right is a hospital. I move closer towards the emergency entrance doors that open for an orderly pushing a wheelchair through. Nobody is in the chair, but the orderly talks to it making assurances that they're going to take care of the problem. I follow, but as the orderly goes in through the automatic motion-sensing doors, they close behind him. As they close, I see my reflection... no, I see A reflection, but this is not me. This is a corpse. The scalp has peeled away from the skull, the clothes disintegrate in places revealing bone and gore. The left arm is twisted in an odd way, and both hands show fingers with the tips ground away to the first knuckle. There is no left foot, just a tibia grinding into the concrete walkway, and I realize this IS me. I begin to scream, but my jaw falls away. Before it shatters on the ground, I wake.

Sitting bolt upright in bed to a crack of lightning and its snapping thunder half a second later, nothing is familiar. At the foot of the bed, where the bathroom should be, is a wall. To the right, where I leave the bedroom door ajar, is a window. FUCK. ... memories fade from corpses to favors. Like the favor I'm doing for a friend, house-sitting while he's away for a week. Clock check: 2:00am. The alarm is set for 4:00am (I work the early shift).

FUCK. So I get up to write all this down. On paper, no less, since the friend has no computer here.

I'm just a delinquent

2006-07-08T13:07:00.000-06:00

Got a letter in the mail today from my friendly neighborhood taxman. It seems that I missed making the second of two payments for property tax this year. I stupidly misplaced the "coupon" for the second payment somehow. Ah well, the penalty amount was less than the overdue fees at most video rental places, so I wrote the check & stuffed the envelope. All better.

And now, off to see Pirates. I bet they don't get delinquent tax notices. pffft

sssssssssss

2006-07-07T06:34:00.000-06:00

Well, I took the bicycle off the hanger to add a little air to the tires and ride a bit. Once down, I saw a pebble stuck in the tread of the front tire, so naturally I plucked it out. Turns out it was a thorn, not a pebble...
as evidenced by the immediate hiss of escaping air.

SON-OF-A !!!

Well, here I am

2006-07-05T06:24:00.000-06:00

So many tidbits I see that stimulate the need to converse, only to be shut down due to several others' inability to play nice. :sigh: So here's my, what, fifth blog "home away from home". Might not be updated particularly frequently. Or it might, despite its duplicity.