Category: general

Where I put something when I’m too lazy to categorize it.

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let’s go barefoot


Monday night and I’m mad it’s already 8:30pm and here I am just getting started writing, more mad because I’m doing my best to ignore the pile of dishes that I should’ve done first anyway. Sharaun’s at yoga and I put Keaton down about 40min ago. She cried for a minute, and then commenced to cooing and burbling the sweetest babytalk over the monitor. The sounds were like sirens calling a sailors to the rocks, making me want to go in there and talk right back to her or pick her up and swing her around. Sometimes, when I woosh her around in the air in a game where I pretend she can fly like Superman, she pulls her head tight into her body and her little neck ceases to exist. When she smiles like that, the arc of her smile is mimicked in her compressed rolls of chin – making an irresistible compact Ram-Man looking ball of cute. That’s an awesome baby right thur, I’ll tell y’all that…

Hey, wanna chuck this crap in the dustbin and head to the forest? We can bring some food and park the car and go barefoot. Let’s do that, huh? Let’s go barefoot. Because, you know, I get tired of this sometimes, the same desk and the same feigned interest and the same the same the same. So let’s just drop out for a week, put what we need in the car and drive away. We can stay as long as we want, we can wash off in a cold river and wake up to our breath steaming from our nostrils. We can sleep whenever we feel tired and scream if we’re happy. What you gonna say you gotta do, anyway? Ain’t nothing you got here you can’t get there, and ain’t nothing gonna come crashing to Earth while you’re away. Seriously, it’s not even gonna be a thing or anything. Let’s go barefoot.

Spent some time yesterday drafting up the Evite for the annual Halloween party. This being our 4th year running, I was able to lean on previous years’ invitations as templates. I can’t believe we’re closing in on that time of year again, and it only serves to make me worry that I’m running out of time to finish my wolf prop. If you asked me for a progress percentage, I’d have to peg it somewhere right around 50%. I still have to dream up the mechanization – and I’ll admit I don’t have any solid ideas on adapting that old ice cream machine motor to drive the wolves baying heads. I’m confident it’ll all come together though, it usually does. Won’t get much time to work on it this coming weekend, as I’m striking out again on another camping trip with some buddies – this one, however, being more rugged than last week’s everything-and-the-kitchen-sink car-camping outing. In a combination 4×4/camp/hike, we’ll be taking some vehicles offroad in honor of Ben getting hitched. With full GPS-enabled tracking and some gorgeous old-California gold country, it should be a blast.

Hey people, hey people c’mon! No, for really. Check out that “blocked spam” counter over there in my sidebar there… I’ll wait… you check it out yet? Do it! OK, for real y’all, as I post this that counter says 99,282 spams have been blocked. I might turn 100k by week’s end. Each one of those spammies means a MySQL transaction that my host has to handle, because each little nasty actually goesinta the database, even if it will later be deleted. I think this is part of the reason my blog goes out lunch sometimes, y’know… just flakes out when it gets overworked. 100k spams, think about that… and that’s not even from sounds familiar “day one” either, I didn’t install Akismet until I was well over a year into writing (up until then I didn’t need Akismet). Dang.

Goodnight.

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neanderthal-moot


Thursday night. The ladies, including Sharaun, went out to have some drinks and talk about shoes and calories and Suri Cruise and shit like that. Meanwhile, back at the Bat Cave, the women suggested the abandoned men come together and have a night of bonding they could call their own. Man bonding, however, doesn’t really involve talking. Just TV watching, a case of Budweiser Select, and a 40-pack of Pizza Rolls. That, and, dad was left to get Keaton down – so I’d wager the women were able to cut loose a little more than our neanderthal-moot. But, let’s get serious y’all, how fun can cutting loose be when it’s comprised of Appletinis and gang-gossiping?

Is it me, or is Halloween now much more merchandised than I remember it being as a kid? I’ve been obsessed with Halloween since I was a kid, but I don’t remember it being anywhere near as commercialized as I see it today. Nowadays, come September, Halloween mega-stores pop up all over the place. They’re full of high-dollar assembly-line form-pressed scare-wares, fake blood and costumes galore. We had nothing like this when I was a kid. We went to Kmart and walked down the one costume aisle; the same aisle where, if you were lucky, there’d be a squeeze tube of fake blood left, and maybe a spraycan of hair color. Don’t get me wrong, I love the new Halloween, love the “made in China” 500% markup props strewn about suburban lawns.

Heck, I remember my brother and I stuffing a pair of dad’s old pants and a long-sleeved shirt with newspaper and old towels. We’d cinch a masked basketball to the stuffed torso, smear the whole thing with fake blood, and hang the whole thing from the basketball hoop. It looked great, right down to the tied-on shoes pretending to house feet. We’d stuff another dummy all broke-bodied into a plastic trashcan, not have light on either when the big night of trick-or-treating came around, and be absolutely giddy about the whole thing. I still like that “pioneer” style Halloween moxie, still like trying to create my own tombstones rather than buying the bulk ones from Target. To end this mess: I’m just glad Halloween is gettin’ the respect it’s so rightly owed.

Tomorrow if Friday, God-blessed Friday. I’m leaving early too, to head out to the coast for a weekend of camping. Since it’s family-style car camping, the normal rules of “primitive” camping are thrown out the window – and we’re free to haul in the big tent, air mattress, and coolers full of beer. Not only that, I can bring the iPod and portable speakers, and Erik’s bringing a small black and white TV so we won’t be college football deprived. I’m looking forward to huddling around a daytime fire to cut the chill, perpetually sipping a beer, and squinting to watch the action on the pitch. Good times.

‘Night.

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entirely devoid of rhythm


‘Nother long day at work, this time starting at 7am for a meeting with those cagey Europeans and home at 6pm after closeted think-tank style meetings most of the day. I actually welcomed the brainstorming though, it’s fun to think occasionally. Sharaun is forcing me to watch some new dance-competition show. These infernal dance shows… am I the only person who just doesn’t get dancing? I mean, I see two people up there… bouncing around smiling… but I just can’t get an idea of “skill.” To me, it’s almost like that disease where people can’t discern one face from another. To me, it’s all walking around and spinning – I just can’t differentiate it. Sharaun claims this is because I am entirely devoid of rhythm… and I’m inclined to believe her. I just can’t see dancing. I figure that’s OK though, because it sucks. Oh, and I’m putting off getting up and doing the dishes… pretty standard stuff.

I’m tired of having to wait a few days for the latest leaked album, but am torn about begging invites to the biggest “zero-day” leak tracker sites… as I have visions of server raids netting memberlists and IPs and even share ratios. So, I’ve decided that the prestige of being 1st to the party just isn’t worth the time in jail – and I’ll wait until the stuff trickles down to the mid-level feeders like me. But dang, sometimes when I want to hear something… I want to hear something!

So, in what I hope is the last time I write about this, here are the two best wrapups of the whole LonelyGirl15 debacle. Enjoy.

Goodnight.

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a windows-open weekend


Sunday night went long at a social event, so I didn’t get time to do my normal writing nor my normal posting of pictures. This didn’t bother me. In fact, as the clock approached midnight and we were just settling down to a dessert of apple pie and ice cream, the realization hit me: “I’m not writing tonight.” Usually, if I’m out somewhere and know I haven’t written, I’ll get preoccupied thinking about having enough time to get something posted after getting home. Letting it go, so to speak, is nice. As soon as I square my OCD-self with going outside of routine, I get all rebel-proud and cool-calm. Yeah, so, being that I didn’t post Monday I suppose I can do the in-brief weekend roundup right here and right now:

It was an “open windows” kinda weekend, with the weather pleasantly warm and sunny. (This was a stray sentence, but I like it so it made the cut.)

There’s no more sleeping in at my house. When Keaton gets up, the family gets up. This new trend often finds me up and about before 7am on weekends, something that, until now, was rather foreign to me. In fact, I’m writing this paragraph right now early one Saturday morning. Sharaun left for Wal Mart at 8am, as by that time we had both been up and ready for some time. Strange, you know, how things work like that.

Changed the brakes on the Ford this weekend, and flew completely solo for the first time ever. I know, changing the brakes is literally six screws and a jack – but I was extremely proud of myself nonetheless. Being incredibly not mechanically inclined, any successfully mechanical task is belt-notch worthy for me. In fact, my success in this simple task has ignited a small fire of desire within me to get to know my vehicle more intimately. Indeed, I find myself pursuing the Chilton’s manual and trying to “learn,” soak up some information. I go back to the long exhaust manifold job that’s been in “I gotta get that done” phase limbo for a couple years now, I catch myself checking local Pick-n-Pull hours of operation and thinking about scavenging a new bucket seat or center console lid or passenger-side mirror. Some day I’d like to know what a differential does, or how to realign a transaxle (I have no idea if you can “realign” a transaxle… it just sounded all “gear”). Hell, I even added a TiVo season pass for Two Guy Garage I was so passionate about the grease under my nails and finally getting to use that economy-sized jug of Fast Orange I bought years ago.

Switching gears to Keaton, she had her six-months checkup at the baby-doctor last week. And, in case you were thinking of picking her in the fantasy baby draft, here are her latest stats: weight: 25th-50th percentile; height: 50th-75th percentile; head: 90th percentile. So, if she can manage not to pull her neck holding up that massive melon of hers, I think she’s got the makings of a strong season ahead of her. She’s definitely got the head-size advantage over most of the field… although she could stand to put one some pounds.

I also got her gallery updated, albeit a day late. Unfortunately, I moved to allowing only registered users to comment until I can create a better spam filter, so you’ll have to register (one-time only) should you desire to comment. You can check out the new pictures right here.

Today the iPod did some bizarre “random” shuffling. Back-to-back I heard Donovan’s “Lalena” and Deep Purple’s cover of the same song. And, as if to mock the rand() function even further, later in the shuffle set I heard Al Kooper’s “Season of the Witch” followed (no joke!) by Donovan’s original version. Insane.

In closing, did you know that, per capita, if America’s national debt were spread across the population, each person would carry a balance of -$2778.07 (balance/per capita and balance/GDP data). Ouch. The logic of us being dead-last on the “balance sheet” of all the countries in the world confuses me. Someone care to explain?

Oh, and this just in, LG15 is busted. A 19 year-old New Zealand born actress who recently moved to LA to jumpstart a career. Looks like it worked.

Goodnight.

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officially good


Three-day weekends are officially good. Managed to mow the lawn, do some long-waiting-to-be-done “fix it” stuff around the house, and attend three barbecues. Back to work tomorrow, not something I’m looking forward to at all. I keep thinking about my weeks upon weeks of state-funded “bonding leave” coming up in December, and the blissful days spent not going into the office. Yeah, I’m way ready for that. Mostly music; deal.

Oh, I did update Keaton’s gallery Monday, check it out (and yes, I added this sentence late, post-publishing).

I am chomping at the bit to see the movie Jesus Camp ever since catching the trailer on YouTube and reading David Byrne’s blog entry on his thoughts after seeing a screening. I have to see this movie, it looks ultimately compelling. Hopefully, it’ll make the rounds at one of the local artsy joints here in town.

Seriously, all the hubbub about the Pitchfork leak of Joanna Newsom’s new album made me positively itchy to hear the thing. The indie crowd is in a state of multiple-orgasm over it, leaving me perplexed. See, I couldn’t for the life of me get into her previously lauded effort, The Milk Eyed Mender. I’ll say up front that I’m not a huge fan of this whole “psych folk” or “freak folk” movement that’s been so hot over the past years – the sound is just a bit too “weak” for me. Anyway, I used my leak-locating superpowers and tracked down a YSI link for the album (which was just a rip of the “oops’d” shared PF directory).

What do I think about this album? What the hell? The message boards of the thick-rimmed set are lighting up, already proclaiming this five-track effort “album of the year.” Seriously? I’ll admit it’s interesting, the lyrics are somewhat engaging and there’s no denying an abundance of songwriting talent here, but it’s about as unapproachable to me as Natalie Portman – I’ll never get it. With lush orchestrated background approximating a Disney score and Newsom’s fragile annoying voice warbling out in a worse-than-Bjork timbre, I just don’t get it. Best album of the year? You’ve got to be effing kidding me. You guys can have your gay-ass freak folk, or whatever you call it. Give me something like The Figurines or Midlake or The Islands or The Decemberists… you can have this pansy crap.

By the way, I’m gonna get like tons more chicks than you when I’m blasting Wolfmother from my open car windows in response to your dainty Newsom “Monkey and Bear” harpischord balladry. That is, unless you want to date the Lilith Fair. Personally, I’d rather date Ozzfest.

Goodnight.

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no tears in sleepyland


Eating dinner tonight, I brought my fork down on a yellow pepper to cut it for easier eating and some pepper-juice sprayed in my eye. Sucked. Poor Keaton had a tough time tonight, teething and screaming. So, we cancelled our plans for the evening and got her to bed instead (no tears in sleepyland). I just got done whipping up some brownies to fix Sharaun’s sweet craving (I’m the baker in the family), and in 20min we will eat them. Small blog today, not much in a writing mood… suppose I shot my wad over the course of the multi-thousand-word week. Here we go.

My tiny blog experienced a small bit of increased exposure today due to a rash of internet searches for the word “crumbelievable.” A search for said word, which is a Kraft cheese marketing campaign, on Google turns up my January entry on it as the 3rd return. Not bad. The “crumbelievable” search has always been a leader in the blog stats, but I didn’t have a good explanation for yesterday’s spike – that is, until I went home to make a sandwich for lunch and instructed the TiVo to serve up Wednesday’s Colbert Report. Turns out Colbert did a bit on American “cultural cohesiveness” in which he cited the Kraft Crumbles crumbelievable television ads as the campaign which can bring people together, a sort of “Where’s the beef? or “I’ve fallen…” for the modern age. Ahhh… the ebb and flow of pop culture, at least it’s good for copy.

Time for brownies, goodnight.

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hairyguy30


Wednesday! The day I take my trash down to the curb at night, and wake up to it being gone! America is great, it’s that kinda freedom-magic that makes terrorists hate us so much. Sitting here rooting around my super-secret leak-friendly haunts like a pig hunting truffles, looking for some new Justin Tenderlegs songs for Sharaun. She’s always so happy when I can grab a couple more tunes off his upcoming album – tonight I got two, maybe I’ll get laid. Keaton fell asleep on my chest tonight, I didn’t want to put her in her crib – but my arm fell asleep and I figured she’d be more comfortable there anyway. Good dad.

First off, let me say how happy I am that yesterday’s co-op mega-post drew the comments it did. You guys had some great input. Hunting, fishing, biodiesel, and a ram pump are great “misses” on my part and make me think that one of the requirements for my “ideal” fantasy scenario should be a piece of property with flowing water. Now, having rights to fish or impede that water is another thing altogether, but, who knows, I’m sure there are still parcels of land available somewhere in this great country that come with limited water rights.

I found the biodiesel and ram pump comments most interesting. In fact, I’m somewhat ashamed to say I’d never heard of a ram pump prior to stinkmeat’s comment yesterday (go here for more info on this beautifully simple piece of engineering). These things have some impressive specs, from the Ram Company website:

We have a customer in Montana using our 3″ cast aluminum pump ($2100), pumping water 270 feet vertical lift and over 1,500 feet from the pump and is getting 2 1/2 to 3 gallons per minute. They have a 33 foot drop into the pump with a 100 foot drive pipe.

After reading about them, I’ve now decided I want one for the co-op. Also, the biodiesel thing was something I initially chose not to touch, but it’s conceivable to just go all-out and spend the cash up-front to convert vehicles and equipment (the notion of a biodiesel generator is very interesting). While I’m not 100% convinced on the ease of manufacturing biodiesel (my hangup comes mainly from the source of raw, unrefined material), I think it’s worth considering (not officially part of the fantasy, but flirting with it pretty hard).

Yes, my friends, all good points indeed. I wonder if I could take a tax writeoff for traveling around the country scouting plots of land for things like an elevated water source, proximity to hunting and fishing, soil conditions for planting, and average sun-hours and windspeed? Because seriously, when I see this place in my head it’ so awesome. And, before I leave the topic – I stumbled on this link today and found it pretty interesting (and germane). Hippie crap over now, all you conservatives can take off your blinders and start reading again.

The saga of WordPress eating my posts while I’m still working on them continues. It’s so unpredictable now that I’ve been cutting and pasting my posts into a text editor prior to hitting the “save and continue editing” button (the button which seems to shuffle 2/3 of my posts to the nether regions of the internet). It’s actually really pissing me off. Seems to happen on bigger posts more than smaller ones, but I haven’t really “studied” it or anything so I’m not sure. All I know is that it’s been making writing more difficult and less enjoyable.

It got so frustrating when it erased my co-op post the other day multiple times that I started searching for it. After much hunting, turns out it’s a Firefox bug – not a WordPress bug. It’s a known, reproducible bug with Firefox – and the only decent workaround right now is to either use Internet Explorer to edit long posts, or install the Firefox IE Tab plugin and have your WordPress “Write Post” page default to opening in IE. Only problem I have there is that, for some stupidass reason, a carriage return in the “Write Post” window using IE gets automatically double-spaced. What a sucky solution, but I’m now doing it rather than risk losing reams of writing.

I’ll admit it, I’ve been totally engrossed over the past week with the whole lonelygirl15 thing. And yes, I realize I’m about a month late to the party here… what can I say, I’m way out of touch in my old age. I name-dropped her the other day, but was too embarrassed to admit the sheer level of my interest by writing an actual paragraph about it. After watching all her videos, and Daniel’s responses, a week ago – I’m pretty convinced it’s some kind of orchestrated fake. Fake or not, it’s sure been getting attention lately – making the cover of the New York Times website is nothing to poop at.

But just what is lonelygirl15? A viral marketing campaign for the Thelemic Church of Satan? (Don’t worry, you’ll get it after you get rabid enough to start following the LG15 “dissection” threads out there and come to the “Crowley photo” bit.) Some NYU grad student’s thesis project in meta-trends and media manipulation (a theory straight from the pages of stereogum)? Teaser to get the MySpace crowd pre-hooked on a new MTV show? I love this kind of online mystery, in the same way I love the Lost Experience and once love the Smashing Pumpkins Machina mystery. Mixed-media clue-hunting and puzzle-solving have always been fun to me. Can’t wait to see how this one ends up.

Well, sorry I strayed from my normal high standards of academia to scrounge around in pop culture. I promise I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled programming just as soon as I finish reading my brother’s blog (he really has one, I found it last month – must run in the family) and watching the last lonelygirl15 video again to analyze how “professional” the lighting is.

And, as a parting shot – one more interesting post to relay: The Most Isolated Country In the World. Goodnight.