Category: general

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

Posted on

discovery

Today was the first day I could afford to slack.
I’m back. If only I could offload this NYC trip next week, I’d be perfectly happy. The laundry has overflowed the hamper in the closet, and is spilled out in piles on the floor. I have to step over mounds of it to get to my clean clothes on hangers. It’s been that way since the three weeks in Taiwan, we’ve just never caught up from that, and combined with my other travel… things around the house are pretty much stagnating. Going away for another week will only perpetuate my nagging “barely keeping up” feeling. I need some time to be where I normally am and catch up on my normal routine. Oh, and I’m’a get it… I’m’a definitely get it after this New York trip… when travel should dry up for a good couple months.

Filmmakers, advertisers, and marketers, as part of your target demographic – I have to tell you something that may shock you: The seemingly always-funny combination of elderly people and hip-hop music/culture is not funny anymore. It’s just not funny anymore. Yeah sure, I can remember the day when I once got a chuckle from that old lady spitting classic Sugar Hill in that one movie teaser. But guys, that was a looong time ago. Geriatric Ebonics is past it’s prime, much like the only-for-white-people-now 1980s “-izzle” speak that Snoop brought back into vogue – it’s just over. As a marketing device that made middle-aged white people feel relevant, it was a screaming success… but nothing can last forever. Even totally awesome marketing campaigns eventually come to an end. R.I.P. Bud Bowl, Coors Twins, and yes… rappin’ granny. Your time has, mercifully, come to an end.

Usually, I hate to write about TV… mostly because I hate to think that a television show could be an important enough part of my life to were I’d spend time writing about it. But, I’m gonna break my unwritten writing rule and write about TV. Recently, one of the networks or cable channels starting replaying the series “Lost” from the beginning. Sharaun and I had heard quite a bit about the show previously, so we decided to sic a TiVo season pass on it. The other night, we finally got around to starting it – and I was immediately rapt. This show was seemingly written with me in mind. It’s got people stranded on a desert island, using their wits and brawn to survive, which by itself is enough reason for me to tune in. But on top of the island thing, it’s got secret codes and stuff. The other night, Pat was saying that all it needed to be stolen from my brain was a Henry’s Bar on the island. Anyway, I watched three episodes last night, and kicked off the downloads for episodes 4-12 when I got home from work tonight. The plan was to watch them as they air over the summer, but having them at my fingertips on the intarweb is just too irresistible to pass up. OK… sorry.

I leave you with a tale of blogging in the news again, goodnight.

Posted on

a hardcore caveman

It's good to be back.
When we got on the shuttle that took us from the Denver airport to the hotel, they gave us a couple pieces of advice: 1. Make sure you drink more water than normal, because you get dehydrated easier at the city’s elevation; and 2. Any alcohol you consume here has double the impact it would in your usual lowly-elevated cities. I dunno, but #2 kinda sounded like a science experiment waiting to happen to me. And, after last night, I can say with confidence that, for me at least, it ain’t true. I kept track of my intake last night so that I could double it the next day and see what I “Denver-drank.” Turns out, if the doubling rule holds true, I Denver-drank fourteen beers and four shots. If I had drank that in the span of last night’s outing I’d’ve been supremely blasted… and I was only pretty plowed (yeah, there’s a difference).

Still, the cigarettes did the most damage. When someone saw me with one last night and cast an inquisitive glance, I nodded toward my smoking hand and, over the thumping bass, said, “Only when I drink.” “How often do you drink?,” quipped back my friend. “Only when I smoke,” I replied. I’ve kind of figured I’ll never really learn with that one… I’m sure there was one caveman who insisted on sticking his hand in the fire over and over just to see if there was one time it wouldn’t burn him; I’m that caveman. I guess I could have worse alcohol-induced vices, like hookers or barfights or seizures. Well OK, maybe seizures are a stretch, but you know what I’m saying. I’m merely flirting with cancer, at least I’m not running the risk of flopping around and swallowing my tongue. What the heck? Ahhh… In bed by 3am, up by 5am to catch my flight… a hardcore caveman.

It was a good way to end the conference, cast off the pressures of the preceding week, and let loose a bit. We ended up at the Coyote Ugly bar, the likes of which I’d never been to before. The bartenders are all attractive young girls who split their time between serving up the firewater and dancing provocatively on the bar for the audience of ogling men. The place is kind of a laugh really, watching a whole crowd of men under the complete spell of two or three scantily-clad women dancing on the bar… holding out fistfuls of bills for more drinks, whistling and catcalling, and snapping pictures. Someone said to me while we were there, “This place is like the halfway house between stripping and bartending, ” and that’s about as accurate a description as you can give it. But, I had a good time. Those girls own their 99% male audience, and they know it. I was thinking what a feeling of power that must be, and how if I was a hot chick with little inhibition I might like to strut around on a bar and sling drinks to make my way through college or something. Anyway, the beer was cold, the music was loud, and I’d never done body shots before – so all in all it was an enjoyable experience.

I don’t understand what the hang up is about driving with the windows down and the air conditioning on. Why is this so bad? I love having the windows down when I drive, but sometimes it’s a little too warm for my taste if the sun is beaming directly on me, so I turn on the air. This seems to confound some people. I think the idea is that I’m somehow “wasting” air conditioning. As if filling the shut-up car with it is any less “wasteful.” It’s not like there’s a true thermostat in my truck and the air will only come on to maintain a set temperature. When I use the air with the windows up, I just turn it on and leave it on to maintain a temperature that I like. How’s that any different than doing the same thing with the windows down? I like the fresh air, and the cold breeze from the air vents… is that so hard to understand? A waste of gas, you say? Bah, if the windows were up I’d surely have it on anyway. Get off your high horse and let me enjoy my air conditioning however wastefully I choose. I also mix regular trash with recyclables and pour motor oil down the stormdrain, so take that… hippy.

My entry yesterday generated three comments, that’s not bad really. Well, of course I got 753 online poker and natural viagra comments that got trapped by the spam filter. But three legit comments is a big deal for me. I’m not some superstar blogger who gets fifty comments on his every post, I’m just some writin’ dude who has six friends who know his web address.

No, I don’t really pour motor oil down the stormdrain. Catch ya later.

Posted on

threat level blue

Get it?
I think they heard my sigh of relief back in California this morning. It’s done. The presentation I spent weeks slaving over, sweating and raking fingers through my hair over, is, itself, over. And people, let me tell you that I feel great. My cramming paid off, my practice showed, and I came away from both sessions feeling great. And despite my good intentions last night, the beers I couldn’t seem to avoid didn’t seem to bother me at all. I am so glad it’s over – I’ve never been as wrung out over just a simple presentation… and I’ve done more than my share in the past. It’s just that I had precious little time to prepare, and knew it would effect my performance if I didn’t invest the proper amount. Luckily, I pulled it off. And now, with a great sense of relief – I’m done writing about it. In fact, I’m trying to be done with my writing-about-work streak… this should be it for a while. I want to get back to the regular stuff, the mundane stuff. Like…

What is it about dress slacks that makes them seemingly more prone to ass-smell? I mean, I’ll accept it as a given that any pair of pants, regardless of dressiness, will eventually inherit some ass-smell with repeated wearings. It’s a fact, something that is in that close a proximity to ass for an extended amount of time will of course begin to smell like ass. But, with dresspants, at least for me, the time it takes for the ass-smell to migrate from in-my-ass to in-the-fabric-of-my-pants is really reduced over “normal” type pants. Like this morning, I got dressed in my freshly laundered khaki slacks and headed down to my classroom to present bright and early at 8am. I presented until around 10:45pm, and then headed out to help a friend setup some equipment. As I was lifting heavy boxes and stuff, I got a whiff of something that smelled like ass. But, how could this be? I’ve only had the pants on for a mere four hours! How in the world can the ass smell be here already? But, it was. The ass smell was definitely there. I dunno, it must be something with the fabric. Or my ass. Or something. I really hope other people (dudes, I’m suspecting) experience pants-ass-smell, and that it’s not unique to me. I didn’t really think about that before writing this…

Now I’m sitting in my mile + 12 stories high hotel room, getting ready to take a nap.

Awesome.

Posted on

rock bottom

Treed.
Friday. Friday. Friday.

Too late. No time. I’m screwed.

The presentation I slaved over into the wee hours last night went off without a hitch, and even garnered positive feedback. My laptop is back with a shiny new install of WinXP, and is running like gangbusters (whatever that means). You’d think I’d be happy, relieved, maybe even a bit relaxed. Shit no I’m not. I am literally feeling crushed tonight. I’m freaking out. I did my first dry-run of my big conference presentation tonight, me and the stopwatch on my cellphone, in front of the mirror – an open notebook to jot down thoughts as I ran through my material in “presenter mode” for the first time. Oh, it went OK for the stuff I knew it’d go OK for; and it bit for the stuff I was a little unsure about. The worst part? The damn thing only took me ~30min to get through. That’s a disaster folks, a disaster. I am will be up in front of these people for 70min, and expected to talk for at least 60 of those. I have a problem, and the only way to solve it is to pad my material and get a better grip on what I’m talking about. But right now I just can’t help but see a persistent vision of sand running out of an hourglass in my head… time’s a wastin’. I have tomorrow, and the weekend, and perhaps some of Monday… and then it’s go-time. I’m frustrated, I’m worried, I’m nervous, and to be honest I just want to run away and hide until it’s over.

And I just don’t want to work right now. I want my night back. I want to sit here and watch TV with my wife, and I’m going to. I don’t care. I mean, I care more than anything right now – but I just don’t care. Sometimes we can get to laughing about something and I almost forget my misery. Whatever, I’m tired of waking and working being synonymous. I’m letting the little things slide, but they are making me big unhappy. I hate that I’ve forgot to take out the trash the past three Thursdays, and have had to jump out of bed at the sound of the trucks on Friday morning to try and get it to the curb in time. I hate that I’ve started letting the lawn get longer before I mow it, and that the night’s dinner dishes now linger in the sink until just before the next night’s meal. The little chores I took pride in not three weeks ago are all screwed up. Whatever… I’ll make it up this weekend, I’ll do something, I’ll do whatever. I’ll make something happen. I don’t even want to write about it…

Good night.

Posted on

treading water

I know how you feel... my brother from the animal kingdom...
Tonight was supposed to be my night. Work wasn’t going to ruin it. Work wasn’t going to stop me from getting my haircut or mowing my lawn. Work wasn’t going to keep me up into the wee hours. Work wasn’t going to own me tonight.

It started off right. I got my haircut, mowed my lawn, and then sat down after dinner and began to succumb to the call of sleep. My 2am night last night didn’t help. Right now I am beat-down something fierce. But… I have to be up. I have to finish. I have two presentations that need to be ready by tomorrow. One has to go out before I can sleep. But, I’m writing instead of working because my laptop decided to act up. Now I’m re-installing SP2 over my work’s VPN… and just watching the wasted minutes slip by. My presentation is on there, going wholly unworked on. Man, I was wrong about the crunch. It came on all smooth and slick, with a shiny glittery air about it that made me like it. The crunch’s pickup lines were practiced, coolly delivered, and believable. “Hey, take this extra work, the recognition will be worth it.” “You’re talented enough to be successful at this, it’s time to own your own career.” Oh the crunch, you’re a wily fox, a forked-tongue devil, a siren sweetly singing me towards the shoals. I fell for your charms, I sure did – and now you’re exposed for the time-sink of a whore you really are. Taking away my nights and my lunches, you bastard. 11pm and I’m here thinking of you… I only gave you my best, how could you do me wrong like this the crunch? I fell for you…

This is ridiculous. I’ve been waiting for this laptop to be “available” for nearly two hours now. Hangs, reboots, power cycles, more hangs… it’s infuriating. I’m at the point where I’m about to just chuck this brick out the damn window. I considered going to bed and waking up early to do this, since I’m about to fall over anyway… but if I can’t get the computer running it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m so frustrated right now. I keep thinking about mowing the lawn and how my mind was completely off work. I want to be back out there again, where I’m only concerned about making sure each pass back and forth overlaps the last one I made. It’s so much easier… I want to be back there.

Sorry, I’m devoid of all non-work thought… but at least I got a bitchin’ haircut and my lawn is the envy of the neighbors. Goodnight.

Posted on

scrobbin away

Under the gun.
Ahhh…. I took Thursday and Friday off from work, which, coupled with the Monday holiday, made this weekend seem blissfully long. With family (sister- and brother-in-law) in town, we had a busy time trudging from coast to mountains. And now, although it’s Monday, and I have the day off, and I have a myriad of things I could be doing, I’m sitting here doing nothing. It’s been a good do-nothing day though, since we got up at 6am to take our visiting family to the airport – making it feel like I’ve already slacked for a full day when it’s not even noon yet. Of course, I have the appropriate guilt that’s associated with this level of laziness. I just don’t care. I’m not motivated to do anything… how crappy is that? Ugh…

Let me tell you what’s been keeping me up at nights lately. I have a pretty big-scale conference mid-month at which I’m a presenter. This is a pretty big deal for two reasons. First, the topic of my material will be a very high-interest one, and in fact the two times I teach the class are already booked to capacity. Second, I am woefully behind schedule in regards to developing my content. Normally, I wouldn’t be too worried – I am, by nature, a procrastinator, but I also work well under pressure, so it’s normally not that bad. The difference here is, I am teaching a class about a subject I’m really unfamiliar with. So, in addition to the normal task of developing the material, I also have to educate myself on everything. I have roughly two weeks to do this. However, per the development schedule for the conference, my material should be at 95% this week. People, my material is at roughly… 5%. For the first time in a while, I’m worried about pulling something off. Not that I won’t have the material ready in time – that’s just not an option, my real worry is making a fool of myself.

I’ve given bad presentations before, and I know from experience that it is a low, low feeling to not know your subject matter – and to have that fact be painfully obvious to your audience. Oh, I can still remember the searing embarrassment and desire to run and hide under a rock for the rest of the day. I do not want to experience that again… I’ll do anything. So, I’ve set myself a strict regimen this week. I’ll not only work during the days, but also log hours at night doing as much time-clearing work for the following day as I can. I’m dedicated to reading several pages an evening on the material I’ll be talking to – to get myself properly educated for any probative questions from the peanut gallery. From now until I leave this next-next Monday, I’m going to try and be the world’s most effective worker, cranking out not only my daily requirements but producing a top-notch presentation, as well as a sponge for information that may help me pull off the required feat. I realize that, in doing this, the blog may suffer. But hey, this seems to be the month of the suffering blog… so I might as well roll with it.

Sunday my truck broke. Yeah… just wouldn’t turn over. It’s not the battery, and I only know that because the extent of my car-problem knowledge is what happens when you try to start a car with a bad battery – and this wasn’t it. The thing would sputter and sputter like it was trying to come to life on a winter day, and when the engine finally bit and started to turn over it’d run for all of two seconds before just shutting back off. Perhaps the cracks in my exhaust manifolds that have gone long-unrepaired spontaneously turned into full-on ruptures and I have no back pressure. But honestly, I have no idea what that last sentence even means and the only reason I said it is because I know there’s some key relationship between exhaust pressure and the whole engine bit. So, painfully ignorant to the inner workings of my prime method of conveyance, I left that thing in the parking lot. And that’s where it sits today… waiting for me to play my AAA card and have it towed to some shop so I can be taken advantage of. Stupid truck… what did I ever do to it? Why can’t all machines be like refrigerators? Seriously, when’s the last time your fridge just up and broke down? I don’t care how exponentially more complex a machine an automobile is – that’s no excuse.

Tonight, taking a cue from the only blog that I regularly read, I checked into audioscrobbler.com and setup an account for myself. Audioscrobbler is like a natural extension of what I was trying to do with my “currently hearing” section on the sidebar. Except, audioscrobbler is much better. It gives you infinite history as opposed to my sidebar’s puny “last 7” or whatever, and it also assembles your listening habits into meaningful (at least to music buffs) data that can show trends and favorites. For someone like me, that’s a pretty intriguing idea. Not only does audioscrobbler scrobble together your personal listening habits, it offers aggregate stats for all the users of its service. So, you can track trends, and even get suggestions from other peoples’ playlists for things you might like based on what you tend to listen to. It will take a while to build up any meaningful data, but I think as a long-term thing I’ll replace my simplistic “currently hearing” output with some more interesting statistics.

And, once again, rather than wracking the old brain for more stuff to write – I’m calling it a night. Oh, and before I go – some pictures from our weekend hiking-season break-in hike up Pyramid Peak. We didn’t make it to the top, lost the trail in the snow, but it was a great day outside and a good way for me to remember how horridly out of shape I am.

Goodnight friends… goodnight.

Posted on

walking over graves

Brrrr....
I don’t know what’s with me lately. Sunday night I passed out not long after 9pm. Just passed dead-out on the couch. I was so firmly asleep, I woke to my alarm Monday morning not knowing what day it was. After shaking out the cobwebs, I had dim memories of brushing my teeth and getting into bed – but man, I was seriously out. And tonight, I feel tired again. I think I could sleep right now in fact, just curl up in bed and be out. I mean, it is 11pm – so I guess it’s not that odd. I wonder, could my body still be protesting the time change a little? I mean, I’ve got the awake-in-the-day part covered, but maybe the night-owl in me will come a little less easily. Either way, I’m trying to shake the fatigue… so bear with me.

While listening to some music at work today, I got a really cool idea for a mixtape. It’s a shame really, that there aren’t really mixtapes anymore… “compilation CD” sounds so much less cool than “mixtape.” Anyway, I was listening to the song “Ain’t Gwine Whistle Dixie (Any Mo’)” by Taj Mahal and, as always, the song gave me chills. See the idea? Yeah, that’s right; a mixtape made up of songs that give me chills. When I say “give me chills,” I really mean that shiver thing that goes on when you hear a particularly awesome part in a song. I can think of several songs off the top of my head that would go on the tape, and I think overall it would be a totally bitchin’ comp. Anyway, I’ve got a running list in my head – maybe one day I’ll actually put a playlist together one day or something. But for now… let’s just start a running list… because… well, why not?

Ain’t Gwine Whistle Dixie (Any Mo’) – Taj Mahal
Over the Hills and Far Away – Led Zeppelin
The Concept – Teenage Fanclub
Summertime in England (live) – Van Morrison
Friday on My Mind – The Easybeats
Lucky Man – ELP
Wave of Mutilation (U.K. Surf) – The Pixies
Thorn Tree in the Garden – Derek & the Dominos
She Sends Kisses – The Wrens
Please Be With Me – Cowboy
AT&T – Pavement
Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right – Bob Dylan
Woyaya – Osibisa
To Forgive – Smashing Pumpkins
New Life – Depeche Mode
Samba Pa Ti – Santana
Julia – The Beatles
New Year’s Day – U2
Pearly Queen – Traffic
Everything In Its Right Place – Radiohead

I could go on, but you get the idea. It’d be interesting to me to loan this mixtape out and see if any of the tunes have similar effects on other people. Hmmm….

See, things like that may make for extremely boring and poor blogging – but they are fun to write, and I’m all about doing what’s enjoyable. That’s when the writing’s good for me, y’know? As much as I write in hopes of an eventual audience, the main motivation is still some small enjoyment gained in doing so.

Hey, that’s all I’m going to write. Rather than tax myself and not have anything else, I’m calling it a night. Maybe later this week I’ll be over my writer’s block and actually be able to come up with something interesting. Ahh… who am I kidding? Sharaun’s sister and her husband are coming into town on Wednesday night and, if I had to guess, I bet I don’t write from then until the weekend…

‘Night.