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Posted on

here and there

It looked so much greener in the store.
Today I’ve got links! Haven’t had them in a while…

Saturday, I woke up early just so I could have more time to do nothing. ‘Round about noon, Sharaun suggested we paint a room. Sounded good to me, we’ve lived here three years now and have barely managed to hang a picture let alone paint. We moved furniture, covered carpet, and along with seemingly 7000 other folks, headed to Home Depot for supplies. After some discussion, we decided on a greenish-yellow, it looked nice on the little paper sample thingy… young, bright, and kinda funky. Happy, we gathered our newly acquired gear and headed home to dive in. Thing is… the more we painted, the more yellow our chosen green-yellow paint started to look. In the sun, it was downright Big Bird eating bananas in a taxi. Of course, Sharaun began to freak out and I started thinking about having to re-paint everything we’d just done. Still afraid, we finished the room and decided to sleep on it. Sunday we called over an artistic/style-minded friend to “validate” the color choice, and we are (thus far) sticking with it…

I caught a bit of the first Harry Potter on TV on Sunday, and it was at my favorite scene – Halloween in the school’s big common/eating room. Y’know, the part where there are hundreds of jack-o-lanterns floating in the air, all with evil smiles and eyes glowing bright orange? Made me think of Halloween, and how it’d be cool to do something similar as decoration in the house this year. I was thinking of getting several of those (not very cheap) foam jack-o-lanterns you can buy at the crafts store and outfitting each of them with one of those orange-tinted stick-up push lights from the dollar store, then I could suspend them from the ceiling with fishing line for that “floaty” look. Speaking of Halloween, I’ve decided on the implementation for this year’s big prop – you can read about it here. The motor-driven version appeals more to me than the many pneumatic variations out there – since I have at least a cursory understanding of small motors. I’ve also decided to remake the graveyard fence into something fancier, ala this guy’s, since mine is really starting to show it’s age and is falling apart.

Somehow, on Sunday, I started thinking about the old cross-country telegraph systems erected in the late 1800s. That’s how I stumbled across this page, showing how to build a dead-simple telegraph sender/sounder combo from everyday parts. For some reason, having this kind of knowledge in my head pleases me. That, and how to build a log-cabin… for some reason these are things I think I should know. Just in case I ever have to build a post nuclear-annihilation log-cabin settlement and want to be able to communicate with my neighbors via telegraph. It could happen.

Before I go, don’t know if you guys read that this killer/kidnapper guy who murdered an entire family an abducted two kids, one of which he later killed and one who is now safe, kept a blog online for several years. I’ve read some of it, and found it more interesting than I probably would have were there not the context. You can read some of the older entries on the wayback machine, the blogspot archive links on these pages work through late 2004. For the most recent entries, the last being a mere two days before the events described above, you can look at the blogspot archives here.

Also, Pat’s got his pictures from the Point Reyes hike up, and they are decidedly better than Ben’s because they show not only the solemn beauty of the trip but also the full level of debauchery achieved. My theory? Pat has balls, where Ben has none. Enjoy them, if you’re into that kinda thing.

Until whenever.

Posted on

skipping lunch

From the lofty loft.
Sitting here squirming around because I have to pee, but I’m not getting up. It’s lunchtime now, but I decided to eat a rather hearty breakfast this morning and don’t feel like eating. So I’ll write instead. It’s one of those days where I feel like I can’t get to anything on my “list” because new things keep coming out of the woodwork. I’m trying hard to get to Smaug’s mountain, but I keep having to deal with spiders and trolls and goblins that pop up unannounced. It’s one of those situations where I end up just staring at the monitor, not sure which e-mail to answer, which phone call to make, what should come first. When I get stuck like that, I do one of two things: Get really serious and start hacking wherever it’s easiest, or bail for a while to clear my head. I think this “lunch break” is my head-clearing bailout.

Went outside to take out the trash tonight and discovered it was plenty cool to open up and let the breeze in. One thing I like about Northern CA’s treacherous 100+ days is the fact that it (usually) cools off enough at night to open the windows and get some fresh air. Right now the cat’s perched on the sill watching what cat’s watch through open windows. Being closer to the outside, perhaps… that fabled place beyond her daily walls. Kind of like me at work, choosing to have meetings in the “breezeway,” where you can see the sun and watch the leaves move in the wind. Not the sanitized wind of air conditioning blowing through the aisles of cubicles, but real, honest-to-goodness fresh air – the kind our ancestor’s ancestors once breathed when they worked the land. You can make good money being a mechanic, right?

Gaw… sometimes I look back over crap I wrote and wanna just delete it all. What’s that BS above about cats and walls and stuff? Was I high? Did I really think I could pull that crap off? One thing’s for sure, I have absolutely nothing to write about. I’d actually rather just call it a night and be happy with what little I’ve managed to get down.

But before I go – you can check out some snaps of the past weekend’s activities over at Ben’s place, so do it.

‘Night.

Posted on

good enough forever

....purrrr....
This weekend I was a cat. I did all the things cats normally do, and nothing more. I ate all that was put before me, full or not. In my spare time, I slept. I slept without guilt, often thinking that I might be coming down with something, as tired as I was. In between eating and sleeping, I used the toilet, and in between those – I played. I played at a city park with my family, throwing frisbees and reading in the shade. I played at the waterfall park too. Man, it was an awesome weekend… relaxed to hilt, at ease to the nines. On Monday, my pop and I tried, unsuccessfully, to program his car’s built-in garage door opener to open his garage door. It’s the second time I’ve tried to make one of those built-in things work, and from my experience you’re just better of using the transmitter that came with the opener. Tonight (being as it’s still Monday), we’re going to meet up with Ben and Suzy and the family for fireworks in the park. I’m excited, I love fireworks.

The Bleat is what I aspire to as a “personal” blog. Posting every day without exception, each day with compelling comment and colorful, interesting wordplay. The ‘I’ -less style of writing is good, and I’ve even caught myself slipping into it the more I’ve been following the page. The guy writes for a living (and must do so all the time, considering the amount of content he regularly posts), so he kinda has an unfair advantage out of the chute. My paycheck, however, comes from doing something completely unrelated to writing… so you’re gonna have to weigh that when considering the quality and quantity of my material. Owell, I dunno if I’d enjoy writing for my food anyway – I’d have a huge fear that I’d “dry up,” like I know I tend to do when things get busy.

My dad isn’t active in the music scene, neither is Sharaun’s, nor anyone else’s parents that I can think of off the top of my head. In fact, you expect old people to like old peoples’ music. They have radio stations dedicated to music as the aged remember music. A child of the 60’s? Tune into Kool 105.9 to get your dose. Standards your thing? Lock KSWG 104.7 on your dial for the best of the swingin’ 50’s. What I’m getting at is that, at some point in their lives, peoples’ tastes in music get encased in ice. No longer are you stalking the aisles at the local record shop looking for your next favorite album, no more keeping up with what’s drawing the critics’ praise or riding the underground buzz. At some point, what you already know is good becomes good enough forever. I wonder when that point is? Right now I can’t imagine keeping one eye peeled for the next groundbreaking record. Is it just that, at some point as you grow older, the current generation’s music changes so radically from what you were weaned on that you simply can’t grok it any longer? What makes people turn away from discovering the new hotness? Maybe it doesn’t happen as much with die-hard music lovers, the kind of people who’ll bed an LP for a week and then leave without offering even a cigarette or phone number. The real users and abusers. Who knows.

11:11pm. Sharaun alseep on the couch, me in the back room writing and listening to music. We’re back! It feels good too… I can’t lie. Although I have to go into work tomorrow, it’s good to be home sleeping in our own bed. And now, I think that’s exactly what I’ll do…

Goodnight.

Posted on

gettin’ out of town

I dunno... somehow I got from minestrone to this... go figure.
Half-day at work tomorrow, haven’t really told anyone – just gonna sneak out. Hope to be putting road behind us by noon, speeding along the nine-ish hour journey from the kiln-hot weather of Northern California to the will-it-or-won’t-it rain toady clouded uncertainty of Northern Oregon. Already tonight I feel better for getting off my ass and finally beginning to tackle some of the domestic duties that my laziness has been roadblocking. I got the dishes done, and am only typing now as a “pause” between vacuuming and sweeping then mopping the kitchen. Still need to pack up and stow the camping gear, that’s to-be-done, oh and unpack the suitcase from NYC – just shy of a week from returning. The goal is to return to something that’s not an insurmountable disaster but a maintainable tidiness. And I’m only writing now in between tasks, to let the sweat settle.

I’m always late paying my bill to the city, y’know, the one for water, sewer, and trash service. It’s forever one month in arrears. The way I figure it, it’s not my fault. They only accept the most outmoded form of payment: the once viable now laughably analog personal check sent through the stone-age holdover that is the US Postal Service. I can’t be held responsible if I’m expected to collect my mail in a timely manner, open it, comprehend it, and then reply with some scrap of paper that I have to write on with my hand. C’mon folks, gimme something I can log-on to, something I can click through, whatever verb I use to pay this bill I want to it to have an ‘e’ and a hyphen preceding it. For God’s sake I learned to write a check in the mandatory “Family Life” class they made us take in 9th grade, and they were already out of style then. Get with the times, get hip, save yourself the processing costs. You are the sole bill I can’t auto-pay online. So anyway, tonight I paid it… some $200 of back-owed fees. It’s a wonder the nice garbage men still collect at our curb and we get fresh water when we turn the tap.

New music, let’s see… what am I listening to? As I mentioned yesterday, this Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! album is great. Funny thing is, I checked their webpage – and their most recent show was with a band called Dirty on Purpose, which I immediately recognized as a name I’d seen before. Turns out Ben’s bro’s band, the also-Brooklyn-based Autodrone, has played with Dirty on Purpose several times in the past. While doing this research, I learned that Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! played a show in NYC this past Monday – the very day I was in NYC bumming around with nothing to do. That Knitting Factory must be a popular place, I see Autodrone and Dirty On Purpose have also played together there before, and apparently the ‘drone were set to play there this weekend before the avocado incident. Hindsight is 20-20 y’all. Anyway, back to the Clap (chuckle) – you have to, must, just gotta check out this track (Flash required). In other tunes, I also grabbed the couple new tracks from the post-Unicorns outfit, the Islands, since PF tipped me off. Not bad.

Hey. I just realized I never ate dinner. I mean, I had several handfuls of Wheat Thins around 6pm, but… that’s not really dinner. Man, I love some Wheat Thins. But now I’m sitting here and it’s 11:30 and on TV Barney is talking about mozzarella pizza in Mayberry… and I’m hungry, I want some food. The smart man would ignore this and go to bed – sleep is a sure-fire cure for hunger. But me, I’m rummaging through the pantry… considering a can of Minestrone soup… or maybe some Rice-A-Roni. I think I’ve settled on the Minestrone, Sharaun’s reminding me, “It’s eleven-thirty at night baby,” yeah… I know. I’m hungry.

Independence Day holiday in the USA this weekend, don’t expect posts Monday or Tuesday, if the come they will be unexpected.

Goodnight.

Posted on

there is not nobody out there can play like metallica

No reason, liked the image.
This weekend I was walking along the coast, looking for driftwood that was dry enough and not-chemically-treated enough to burn for a fire later that night. The weather was the typical bay area coastal gloom – moderate temperatures with the sun hidden behind a gray blanket above, and a fine mist drifting on the air all around. But it wasn’t gloomy at all, I rather enjoyed it. Sharaun and I walked hand-in-hand for a bit, away from the group, and it was almost like we were alone. There was no one else on the entire beach, not a soul. At one point, the place went silent between two waves, just for a second, but it was a remarkable absence of sound. Usually it’s the constant crashing of waves, must’ve been some odd off-timing to create the gap – but it was the most memorable sound of the walk. All sorts of things flash through my mind, I play out scenarios where we’re trapped wherever we are… and being trapped on that beach at that time seemed pretty OK to me.

The men’s restroom at work has polished tile walls. Wait… wait, just stick with me here, I swear I’m going somewhere. Anyway, it’s got these bone-colored polished tiles, so polished that you can see your reflection in them when you step up to a urinal. The way the place is laid out, there are three urinals and three stalls. The rightmost stall wall is directly adjacent to the leftmost urinal. Now, if you were designing a bathroom, you would probably step back and look over your drawings and say “It is good.” However, you would be wrong – and I’ll tell you why. The stall partitions do no go all the way to the wall. There is probably a good inch, maybe more, of space between the wall of the stall and the actual smooth, polished, mirror-like wall. You see where I’m going? No? Lemme ‘splain.

I walk up to the urinal to turn back the Starbucks I rented earlier in the morning. Let’s say I choose the leftmost urinal, for argument sake. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, someone has entered the restroom earlier and chosen the rightmost stall in which to pinch their loaf. So I walk up and prepare for the pee, all the while keeping my eyes honorably focused in front of me. In front of me. Where the damn polished tile is playing a scene reflected right from the stall next to me, the horrid vision escaping through that gap between the wall and barrier that should separate our two private acts. I try to take my eyes away, but where to look? I can look down, but it’s still in my periphery. Any movement draws my eyes to the scene, unbidden by my brain. This is not some watery, frosted-glass-looking reflection that is thankfully obscured; this is a live HDTV feed of the business end of what’s going on in that toilet. I mean we’re talking I-can-read-the-tattoos-on-your-ass DVD picture crispness folks. It’s bad news, it’s bad planning, it’s just plain old bad. This is why I stay away from the 3rd urinal. Well, that and the fact that it’s mounted a good 3″ lower on the wall than the “normal people” urinals. Midget-compliant, or something. The horror.

We have nothing on our walls. Not pictures, not paintings, not even a different color than the original white that came with the virgin house. Over the course of the three years we’ve been here, we’ve spent countless dollars which could’ve instead went to put things on the walls, to make the place feel more lived in. We have no furniture in the front room. Hell, we still call it the “front room” because we don’t do anything in or with it. It has no function. The biggest open space in our entire house is nothing more than a wide, wide hallway between the front door and kitchen. I don’t know what to chalk this up to, but I have some suspects. First, laziness. We are just lazy. Second, Sharaun’s unreasonably high standards for anything which will be displayed on our walls. Honestly, I think finding one or two items every three years may be the pace at which we have to move based on her insane requirements. Third, the notion that money will be better spend elsewhere. As time passes though, I’m beginning to wish we’d spent more time “homey-ing” up the house. Sometimes it feels empty, like we’re always poised to pack up the lot of it and hit the road. I want more things on the wall, more places to sit, more color. Oh, and I want less rampant mess… but that’s a function of my marriage and completely inescapable.

You guys may or may not know that I “run” several different websites. I put the word run in quotes because I honestly do little to “run” them at all. I wrote them at some point in my life, and for the most part they are now on autopilot… their tired and trite layouts and designs in a state of atrophy, embarrassing to look at. There are sites all over this domain, those linked from the root and those not. Those that are “done” and are never touched, and those that are in a constant state of “working on it.” Anyway, the page I’m most ashamed of is my Question Mark & the Mysterians page. The thing is appalling. I think I did the layout in high school, no kidding (however, I may be wrong as the oldest copy I can find on the Wayback is from 1998 and says “since 1997” on it). I changed the layout early along in college, converting the thing to some form of CSS style management. The site is really disgusting to me, but I’m not willing to go and give it a remake. Thing is, it’s consistently one of my biggest visitor-getters, and it also generates a large amount of e-mail. And that’s what I want to talk about, the e-mail.

People are retarded. No, I’m serious. People are straight-up retarded. Sure, the site is hideous – but there is still plenty of good information to be found there, and it’s relatively easy to navigate despite it’s abominably ugly shell. Despite this, the retarded masses insist on mailing me with any question they can think of – regardless of whether or not it’s answered on the pages. I’ve long stopped responding to any mail generated by the site, but you’ve got to check out some of these gems… they consistently crack me up.

Subject: who are they?
the mysterions

Subject: Bass player
What were the names of the musicians that help record “96” tears..

Subject: hey
hey question mark and the mysterians you are a good group you play good music where do you all go when you all on the road do you all go to buger king do you all go to wendys do you all go to pizza hut do you all like buger king do you all like wendys do you all like pizza hut i do i like buger king i like wendys i like pizza hut at buger king i like those whoppers do you all like whoppers thats what i get when i go to buger king is those whoppers there is nothing like a whopper boy they are good

Subject: 96 tears
dude you must have gotten your hands on that song by now, if not i can give an mp3.

Subject: 96 TEARS 45
DEAR WEB MASTER , I HAVE A 45 BY ? AND THE MYSTERIANS. SIDE 1 IS 96 TEARS,BLUE “ABKCO” LABEL, MANUFACTURED BY ABKCO RECORDS INC. ,MONO , # 4020 , (XRQ-75039) , ABKCO MUSIC INC./MYSTERIAN MUSIC / ED ARGUILLO BMI , TIME 2:57. SIDE 2 IS “I CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF YOU , BABY”, BLUE “ABKCO” LABEL , (LINZER/RANDEL) , MANUFACTURED BY ABKCO RECORDS,INC. , MONO , # 4020 , (XQR-75040) , SATURDAY MUSIC , TIME 2:00 .

Subject: hey (same sender as above)
hey question mark and the mysterians what you all have been doing for me i have been playing with my playstation playing with my radio playing on my computer playing with my bose watching dvds on my tvo and watching tv on my tvo i am sorry i have not send you guys any emails thats because i got other rock and roll stars to send emails what bands do you all like do you all like white snake judas priest acdc van halen motley crue scorpons night ranger billy squier billy idol tom petty and the heartbreakers the cars duran duarnboston the police phil cooins bad company queen aerosmith pink floyd led zeppelin kansas foreigner black sabbath blue oyster cult bon jovi def leopard fog hat sammy hagar iron maiden kiss mega deth men at work metallica ozzy osbourne styx twisted sister stevie ray vaughan skid row def leppard quiet riot ratt poison winger guns n roses lover boy lynyrd skynyrd queen asia genesis meat loaf molly hatchet so tell me all of these rock and roll bands which one do you like and which one you dont like do you like all of them or you dont like all of them i like metallica there is not nobody out there can play like metallica because they are to good they play alot of good songs they are just to good

Subject: Your music
Please have a look at the attached file.
—————-
Viruses found in the attached files.
The file mp3music.pif: Virus identified I-Worm/Netsky.J. The attachment was moved to the virus vault.

Maybe the loud colors and disjointed layout just attract the stupidheads. Who knows.

Goodnight.

Posted on

chin on chest

I have no home.
Monday night and I’m up late, in one of those don’t-want-to-go-to-bed moods. Listening to a new album by a group called Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! that is really rubbing me the right way. Reminding me of the Arcade Fire, although they don’t sound much alike at all. I’ve got the blinds pulled up and the window open, inviting the cool night air into the room, along with all the sounds of late-night suburbia: the teenage neighbor boy arriving home from wherever his coming-of-age took him this evening, the occasional chirp of a cricket, and sprinklers spraying to life in the distance. In some ways, this is better than sleeping to me; but I do love my sleep. It’s nice; it strikes me as the first time in a while I’ve had the luxury of sitting here with nothing to do but write and listen to music. Work tomorrow will be busy, but not so terribly demanding that I go to bed ASAP. So I’m gonna sit here and do nothing for a bit, because I can.

5:30pm on Tuesday and I’m dozing off on this call… the action of my head dropping forward waking me from a moment of rest. I don’t know why I’m so tired lately, but today I have an agenda. Immediately after this meeting, my last of the day, I’m gonna run to the gas station. I’m gonna fill up the truck, and fill up my new little two-gallon gas can with an oil/gas mix for my new two-cycle blower. Then, it’s back home to mow the lawn and use that newly gassed-up blower. After that, I want to finally unpack my suitcase and do a proper level-setting cleaning job in the kitchen, y’know, catch up to where I should be. That’s what I want to do, I’m hoping I stick to the plan. Lately, there’s just not enough time. Neither of us have time really… Sharaun comes home from her day that begins at 4:45am and just wants to crash. I’m severely unmotivated for some reason, and have been feeling more tired than usual – I think I may have a sinus infection that’s been lingering since my last trip to Taiwan. Complain, complain, complain… I’m sure it makes for exciting reading. My apologies.

While I didn’t get a chance to TiVo it, because I only learned of it yesterday morning at work, I did read the text of last night’s Bush address in full on the internet. And while I concede it was indeed a well-crafted speech, I still find myself coming back over and over again to Bush’s “new” agenda of tying the war in Iraq to the terrorist attacks of 9/11. Fine, there are “terrorists” in Iraq, and “terrorists” flew planes into our buildings. I simply cannot understand how people don’t remember that the #1, unquestionable, unmistakable reason President Bush gave this country for going to war was the purported “fact” that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction. Whether or not ending an evil regime or freeing a tyrannically ruled people or waging the global ware on terror are noble and just causes for a war, they are not the reasons America voted for war. When did that become OK? You know, I’m not one of those calling for the immediate withdrawal of troops, at this point that’s pure folly and will only lead to anarchy. But I am also not one of those people who have managed to seamlessly transition from supporting a war against a country who presented a real threat by having weapons of mass destruction, to supporting a war to end an evil dictatorship and free a populace, to supporting a war that is just the “… central front on the war on terror.” I respect our soldiers and the job they do. But, as a nation, I do believe we were lied to, and manipulated by the administration with regards to the justification for the war.

Here’s my random one-sentence thought roundup paragraph. Friday noon we leave for Oregon, doing the long drive once again. Spending the long weekend at my folks’ place, looking forward to the time away from work and this abominably messy house. The crabgrass is back in my lawn, I noticed it’s return today… and it’s back in force. This time, however, I decided I’d turn to my friend the internet to find a solution. Looks like I can get some stuff and totally kill the bastard-weed while we’re in the early days of summer… so I plan to act fast. I imagine it like I’m swooping in at the last moment to rescue the lady tied to the tracks, just before the train bears down on her. Downloaded and messed around with Google Earth tonight, and found it really really awesome. It’s a free download, and it does some amazing stuff.

Goodnight my friends, goodnight.

Posted on

a place to sleep

Good for the skin.
Man… just woke up from a hardcore nap, it’s about 9:30pm. Fell asleep on the couch watching TV, that damn flickerbox robbed me of another evening of productivity. I had big plans: unpack from New York, because my suitcase is still sitting on the bedroom floor; repack the camping equipment from this weekend, as it’s still piled in the garage from when I aired it out after returning; start picking up around the house, as it’s still littered with debris from the bridal shower and party Sharaun had here more than a week ago; I would’ve even settled for just doing the dishes from this evening’s meal. But man, I’m so out of practice with the regular chores that I’m really letting them slip. I feel like I’m all out of continuity or something. I set my alarm for an hour early on Monday, thinking I’d get up early and do some tidying before work – but of course I snoozed that entire thing away. Anyday now, I’m ready to get back into my routine…

When I was in the second grade, our teacher had a small squarish picture-book dealing with “hobby sports.” It had full-page action shots of people doing different things, with the title of the activity at the bottom of the page. There were pages for skiing, skydiving, surfing, boating, etc. I can remember looking at the book and flipping the pages. One of the pages seemed a little thick, too thick to be one page. Upon closer inspection I discovered that it really wasn’t a single page, but two pages that were somehow stuck together. Being curious, I carefully tried to pry apart the stuck pages. Turns out the were stuck together purposely, by our teacher, because one of the now hidden pictures portrayed the sport of “skin diving.” With the pages torn apart, I could make out the nude forms of a male and female diver. (Is it proper to have my pluralized “forms” be mated with the singular “diver” in that sentence?) At this point, I either began showing this to other kids, or Mrs. Kline spotted me – either way I was found out. I can remember her lecturing me for “ruining” her book. I think that’s kind of unfair. You glue two pages of a book together and expect inquisitive second-graders not to pry them apart in curiosity. How about cutting out the offending page, or not using the book at all – it was probably 15 pages max anyway.

Got a call from my little bro over the weekend. He’s busy making all the preparations for his tour in Iraq come December. His unit finally got their orders the other day, and they will be stationed at Camp Liberty (Camp Al-Tahreer in Arabic, and also formerly known as Camp Victory). Camp Victory is “… one of the largest US overseas posts built since the Vietnam War, [and] … lies northeast of Baghdad International Airport…” It is planned to be able to accommodate 14,000 troops at capacity. For a long time, my brother telling me he was going to Iraq was pretty much just that – nothing too scary. But hearing him tell me where he’d been ordered, and how he’s making preparations to send his wife home to her folks while he’s away made me really think about it. I don’t know, I don’t have a lot of fear for his wellbeing, I feel like he can handle himself and that the odds are with him… but all the same I wish he wasn’t going. I can’t imagine how it’d feel on the eve of leaving all the things I know and love for a year. Bugs me.

As much as I’ve been looking forward to our upcoming high school reunion next month, I’ve been dreading it nearly as much because tickets to FL are running between $500 and $600 per-person right now. Considering we’re only going to be there for a couple days since Sharaun’s scheduling around work, it was just hard for me to justify dropping more than a grand on the trip. So today, out of desperation, I started reviewing my various airline miles. Turns out, that we could fly for about $240 if we’d be willing to each fly a different airline. I called Sharaun, presented the ~$800 savings scenario to her, and she was down. So, I’m on United and she’s on Continental – but at least I was able to score pretty similar flight times so we’re not too disparate. Yeah, it sucks – but we already shelled out a hundred or so just for the reunion festivities… I am really looking forward to it, despite my lamentation. More importantly, it’s another trip to the airport and some more quality time on an airplane!

Need to make reservations for my trip to Shanghai, apparently I’m needed the 1st week of August. Also wouldn’t hurt to book travel for the (now two-week) September Taiwan trip. I’ve never been to Shanghai, so I’m looking forward to it – since I’ll know some folks in town who can show me around. Taiwan is Taiwan, we don’t need to go into that again until the time comes. I brought some work home tonight, y’know, to work on; never got to it.

Oh, and Wes is right about McD’s, I had already forgotten the whole McRib incident… a textbook example of repression. Goodnight.