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| Sunday, December 24th, 2006 | | 11:30 am |
2006
The begining of the year found me in Plainfield, Indiana doing the consultant thing after my finances fell apart. After that gig abruptly ended due to the merger (Duke Power bought Cinergy), I ended up where I am now, in Germantown, MD. Having a longer term steady gig, the finances are in order again and have mostly been put towards fixing the place in Highland Park. And I now have a property manger who is transitioning towards taking care of everything related with the 2 places. What will this new chapter bring? If they can't get decent rent, the place should be nice enough now to get at least what I've put into it (one would hope). Ideally, it'll work out and I'll have that residual income for the rest of my life. This is that turning point.
So I'm here, 40 minutes out of the city. It seems like my 20s were filled with adventure, social engagements and the like. My 30s appear to be starting out in isolation and melancholy. Even if I had stayed in Pittsburgh, people are always moving away, or coupling up and settling down.
So what should I do?
I could stay where I am and focus on paying down the mortgage, making my finances that more solid and impervious to another break down.
I could move closer or into the city. My instinct would be to try and buy, but around here, that's not really an option.
I could move back to Pittsburgh in a year or so after having put in 2+ solid years with the current job. That would bring familiar settings, friends, cheap real estate and with C# now on my resume, presumably more job options than when I left.
There's still talk of doing the Belize thing.
So what's the point, where do I want to be? Perhaps to answer that I need to answer what I want to do or why I want to do certain things. ie: what would I be looking for in Belize that I can't find anywhere else?
I still don't know what I want from life. Professionally, I'd like to retire. Perhaps with another house or two, that'd be possible. I'd like to pursue photography, music, creative stuff in general. I'd like to have a social life again. After 9 months, it still feels weird being here. | | Thursday, May 18th, 2006 | | 3:33 pm |
weekends
so i've been going places and doing things lately on the weekends
march 31: start installing a/c unit in lawrenceville, many drinking
april 7: camping in wv with marco, lauren, chris, arash, bethany, brandberry, guns, a generator, my PA system, etc. ridiculous time. cold.
april 14: bachelor party for dan mross at massanutten. drunken wrestling, wv strip club, sklyine drive fo free
april 21: work on house in pgh, lawrenceville: finished installing a/c unit
april 28: relax in germantown, left for GITA in Tampa, FL on the sunday for a work week filled with schmoozin, waiting, drinking... a lot. we had a keg in our booth. started drinking that at 4ish, about 4 glasses of wine to relax around 6ish, knocked back several bottles of wine over dinner
may 5: work on house in pgh, lawrenceville: trim around a/c unit; highland park: door to 3rd floor, improved 3rd floor shower water pressure
may 12: nyc, hang with sean then liz. ate the yummiest food and hot chocolate in the whole world.
may 19: i don't if i'm
a) going to pittsburgh to hang with alicia
b) nogs head NC to hang with dan and peeps in a 15 bed house
c) staying local for a bachelor party
may 26: PDF
june 2: pittsburgh, highland park for work stuffus
june 9: pittsburgh for dan's wedding
june 16: camping in wv hopefully. i'm gonna send the email after posting this.
july 26: hang with bober, go see jethro tull
sep 15: arturo's wedding | | Thursday, March 2nd, 2006 | | 11:35 am |
So Indiana ended early. I freaked out briefly and went home. Then I sent out resumes, installed some crown molding, met with headhunters, went to interviews, hoped for the best without thinking too much about it, partied and relaxed quite a bit. The interview in Maryland a few weeks ago worked out and now I'm here. Where's here?
The place in Lawrenceville is still rented out, they'll probably renew for a year and I'll put in a new window soon.
The place in Highland Park still needs a ton of work, but I'll get to that once the money comes in. The first floor is rented out. The upstairs apartment will have my stuff until I'm confident I won't be shit canned. I have a roommate there who I've had some good times with.
So now I'm living in Germantown, Maryland with Arash and Chris, who I spent some time with in Belize. Ridiculous times were had. Ridiculous times will be had. | | Thursday, February 16th, 2006 | | 4:13 pm |
mumbo jumbo for a VB aptitude test
Dim r As New ADODB.recordset
Dim c As New ADODB.Connection
'Do While Not r.EOF
' Debug.Print r.Fields("EmployeeID").Value
' Debug.Print r.Fields("Address").Value
' For Each fld In c.Fields
' Debug.Print fld.Name + " " + CStr(fld.Type) + " " + CStr(fld.Value)
'
' Next
' r.MoveNext
'Loop
'Debug.Print c.MaxRecords
Private Sub Command1_Click()
r.MoveNext
If r.EOF Then
Command2.Enabled = False
Else
Text2.Text = r.Fields("Address").Value
Text3.Text = r.Fields("HireDate").Value
Command3.Enabled = True
End If
End Sub
Private Sub Command3_Click()
r.MovePrevious
If r.BOF Then
Command3.Enabled = False
Else
Text2.Text = r.Fields("Address").Value
Text3.Text = r.Fields("HireDate").Value
End If
End Sub
Private Sub Form_Load()
c.Open "Driver={SQL Server};Server=kabobee;Database=northwind;username=sa;password="
'r.Open "select top 10 * from dbo.Employees", c
r.Open "select * from dbo.Employees", c, adOpenStatic
r.MoveFirst
Command3.Enabled = False
Text2.Text = r.Fields("Address").Value
Text3.Text = r.Fields("HireDate").Value
End Sub
Private Sub Form_UnLoad(Cancel As Integer)
c.Close
Set c = Nothing
End Sub | | Tuesday, January 31st, 2006 | | 10:57 pm |
the plainfield chapter is drawing to a close
The day started off with an email from an ex girlfriend that I'm apparently immature and that stated in a subtle way that she's never really had any respect for me.
I thought that was shitty enough, but then I got the news that my 6 month contract has suddenly been reduced to 2 months. My last day is in a few days, Friday. It's Tuesday evening. In only 2 months a new place has become familiar, I get nods at various bars when I walk in, routine has set in. I've become comfortable by flirting with complacency and feeling entitled. It's a happy place and yet terribly boring. I seek the unfamiliar, yet sometimes cower in fear by its prospect. What's next? I have no idea. There's prospects in Maine, Pittsburgh, India, and New Zealand to start. Tomorrow begins the real effort to answer that question with a blast of resumes throughout the world.
I just got back from my Tuesday night at Applebee's, where there's a Tuesday night special on Long Island Iced Teas. It was 45 minutes of newly familiar faces and shallow conversation served up with contrived smiles that some take comfort in. Tuesday apparently will never be the same without me. I don't even know these people's names, yet the bartender rang the bell in my honor. It felt good, if only because it's the thought that counts. The thought of: be comfortable, feel welcome, everything's OK. Sure, you're scared of the unknown of what's next, but usually it works out for the best.
It's times like these that I feel I could die if it was for a just cause. If somebody walked in with a suicide belt, I could throw myself at them to save the world from the uncertainty that I face. I could go down as a hero while avoiding my big questions.
It's funny. As luck would have it, we had Chinese for lunch today. I have a notoriously bad memory, but I remember the fortune. It read: Push aside your sadness. Life is beautiful, be happy.
I suppose happiness really is a choice. I can wallow in my uncertainty or boldly decide what's next, where I want to be, what I want out of life. I can take charge. One thing that half of me has been striving for is security and stability. The other half? Indepdendence, creativity, spontaneity, chaos. So, sometimes I think it would satisfy half of my paradoxical cravings to join the military. That would provide the extreme in structure, a rigid system of accomplishments leading to success and shortcomings leading to intense acknowledgment and improvement. But I like having my own schedule, doing things my way, being a weirdo. And so I'd like to find a happy medium. Is the contractor life that happy medium? Or should I jump head first in one direction to find out what it is that I specifically want out of the opposite direction? Or should I take the road most traveled and seek that job in Pittsburgh where things are most familiar and easy and requires the least effort?
A great fear is being mediocre, yet an aversion is having people look to me for answers, leadership, responsibility... responsibility that I also envy in others. I don't make any sense, but I suppose nobody does in their own special way. | | Wednesday, January 11th, 2006 | | 2:10 pm |
plainfield, indiana
Yes, it's been a while. Life seems too boring to write it down, but I suppose it's the details that can be taken for granted. Anywho, I'm bored at work. I've gotten back into Smallworld and am raking in the bucks. I'm in the middle of nowhere near a city with less going on than Pittsburgh. With nothing else to do, I've been excersizing, making more dorky laptop music, cleaning up the mp3 tags, getting some sewing done I've been putting off for the past few years and making sure to drink what I don't eat of the $37.50/day allowance for food I'm getting from IBM. Well, IBM is involved in a roundabout way, but that's who I'll put on the resume.
Cinergy outsourced their entire IT department to around 7 different companies. IBM is one of those companies and they outsource some of their people through Global Technical Talent, who in turn, outsources some of their people through AsterixIT. I'm getting my paychecks from AsterixIT. The office politics are grinding everything to a hault, so I'm just sitting here playing Microsoft pinball for days on end getting paid $40/hour. I've never gotten paid this much to do so little. Even when there's work, it's not all that complicated. It seems the toughest part is getting Cinergy to agree on what they want from me, but there's so much infighting that even the project manager doesn't know what to do. It's a very "Office Space" kind of scenario. It's not inspiring, but it's all about saving up the cash to fix up the house and pay down some debt and be in a better spot at the end of 6 months.
What's after 6 months? If they want another 6 months, I'll demand a raise. Maybe I'll get a more mainstream tech job in Pittsburgh doing SQL or Crystal Reports. Maybe I'll take a Smallworld contract job in Australia or Europe. I really don't know. Each option has its pros and cons.
I guess the key for now is to appear confident and interested while flying under the radar. Life is kinda weird right now. | | Friday, October 28th, 2005 | | 3:06 pm |
all sorts of different things happened
Work would have been just like any other day if there hadn't been 4 power outages. Then, when I came home from work, I finished painting the ceiling in a first floor room in the Highland Park place. Then I headed for the basement to finish wrecking a room that had been plagued with mold, dampness and rot using nothing more than a hammer and a wonderbar (not a wonderbra). After a while, it was suggested that I use a sledgehammer to expedite things. Offhandedly I responded: "but that would take all the fun out of it". As it was, it took a lot of swinging and hitting to see any results, especially with the non-load bearing studs that had nails coming in on a bunch of sides and angles. Then it clicked. I don't have a sledgehammer, but I do have a giant wrench that I've never used. It's solid metal. It's heavy. It looks neat. One particular stud I was working on took four hits with the hammer and no results were seen. Clumsily I took one swing with the wrench and sent the thing flying across the room. Oh DAMN this was a welcome change. What would've taken around 3 hours (wrecking the rest of the room) now took about 20 minutes. Wood splintered at the mere sight of this thing. Oh! So much fun. I even used the wrench as a battering ram on a few occasions.
Leaving the mess for another day, it was now time for some lovin. It's quite an interesting change of pace to go from destroying stuff with brute force to tender caresses. The splintered wood, harsh rusty nails, and untethered destructive force I unleashed awakened some sort of rabid beast in me. Instead of relishing this newly discovered side of me, I had to reign in the beast and direct its forces towards some savage, yet tender, love making. Life was good. Life was really good... until we realized that the condom had broke.
Well, this was not the time to resolve that issue. It was now time to wash up, put on the leisure suit and head off to 80s night, which was having a costume contest. Giddiness and vodka overcame me and I danced like I've never danced before. At one point the gal pointed out: "it's not fair. you've got better moves than me". Yeah, well that frenzy was short lived. I soon lost my mojo and opted for sleep after having a little microwaved popcorn.
Morning brought with it the reminder of the broken condom. Work would have to wait for this little issue to run its course. Heading for DeLuca's, I spotted a parking space opening up that I had just passed. I put on my blinkers, put the car into reverse and waited patiently for the space to open up. The guy pulled right up behind me and started honking his horn. Then he got out of his car. Then he got back in and started maneuvering around me. Then the fire truck behind him started honking. Then life halted for a moment so that everyone could glare at me and think horrible thoughts about me. Then someone snuck right in to the space that all this trouble had been caused for. Drat! But a new space had been spotted. It was the first space from the intersection, but it was up a 1 way street going the wrong way. I pulled up to the intersection. Every inch of the way, the guy who worked his way around me honked his horn and swerved his car to try and hit mine. Gosh he must've been angry at his own stupidity. After he was finished with his temper tantrum, I reversed into my space. Finally. That's when I was approached by a policeman who was nice enough to point out that I should get a citation for backing up a 1 way street. Apparently it could cause an accident. Who knew! We talked briefly and no citation was issued.
Breakfast happened, which was when the gal found a hair in her food. This turned out to be a good thing because she was really really hungry and this was cause for either a free meal or more food. She opted for more food. Soon afterwards we made it to the security complex known as Planned Parenthood. Funny that all the security is necessary due to the wackos out there that would kill to prevent the distribution of the morning after pill. Luckily this story doesn't involve those horrible people. The metal detector was interesting, though. Everyone that went through it set it off no matter what they did. Eventually everyone was waved on through despite the incessant beeping. After getting the meds, it was now time to return to normalcy. It'll only be a brief amount of calm normalcy because there's a party tonight at my place. It's out of my hands now, events have been set in motion and tons of people have been invited. Perhaps there'll be more to blog about soon. | | Friday, September 23rd, 2005 | | 4:46 pm |
I've given up trying to figure this stuff out and I've met my surfing quota for the day. So I've just cracked open the first beer of the 6-pack at work. Things should get more interesting now. Also, I traded the crappy CDs for a 100 disc binder and $20. I'm wearing my happy pants. | | 12:08 pm |
there's nothing here
I just made friends with myself on this blog. Yep, I'm sitting at work reading blogs, various news links and keeping up on my bangme.net score. I'm up to 70%. Maybe if I study a little more I'll get a B-. Jean Pierre's blog is hilarious. It's always a riot to laugh at his despair. He has a way with words sometimes. Work? Oh, I'm just trying to do something simple with a product nobody uses and which makes my simple task unneccessarily complex. It's the 3rd day trying to do this and I have nothing to show. Oh shit, it's noon. Time to clock out from my important job and get some lunch. I'll try to sell some of my crappiest CD's in Squirrel Hill. I tried Bloomfield this morning, but was turned away. "There's nothing here, sorry". | | Friday, September 16th, 2005 | | 1:54 pm |
I'm the weirdo
So I had just ordered lunch and I was milling around waiting for it. I was milling around and taking in the scene. Sometimes people retreat into their imagination or are otherwise oblivious to their surroundings. I generally observe a lot. Sometimes I look at people. Scanning around, I noticed an older gentleman talking on his phone rather loudly. Upon making eye contact, most people just look away, as do I. This guy, however, gave me the most loathesome scowl. It was a look of utter disgust (not to be confused udder disgust), as if he had unwittingly taken a big bite out of a piece of crap. Mentally noted, I looked away. Milling around some more, I found myself turning around to catch him gazing at me, at which point, he issued a similar disgusted look. I again turned away and milled elsewhere. Mere moments later boredom set in and I decided it'd be fun to try to again catch him doing what he apparently found so intrusive or offensive. Hypocrisy is fun to play with sometimes. So I milled around in his line of sight again, waited a few moments, then quickly turned around and met his gaze. His reaction was similar, but this time I noticed that he stopped talking until I turned away. It was as if I had interrupted his train of thought. "um... *long pause* uh... ". Hilarious. My food was now ready. As I walked past him, I made it a point to turn and look at him. I looked at him again after I had passed him. I looked at him one last time before turning a corner and making it out of his line of sight. This last look prompted him to yell: "Are you some kind of a weirdo or sumpin?!". I think the whole thing is hilarious in a very demented way. Ha! | | Monday, July 18th, 2005 | | 6:15 pm |
tubing
Jen and I followed Mike and Emily north on 28 for about 2 hours until we reached Cooks Forest and the inner tube rental place. Actually, there's 3 or 4 such places clustered around the bridge. We filled up the cooler and rented a 5th tube to strap it to. Emily had her own smaller pink cooler for her lady drinks. Then we rode 4 miles up stream, tied the cooler tube to mine and we began to lazily drift and drink... and pee ourselves. It was great. But the water was low, especially so about half way down. There was a sign with an arrow on a larger rock that said "canoes". I figured that must mean the water is slightly deeper there, so I followed the arrow and stayed on that side of the river. I struggled through the rough spots and waited where the water finally became deeper again. I don't think the others heeded the sign and so found things much more difficult than I, so before long they gave up and started walking on the road. Also, the cooler was now empty, so things were starting to get a little less interesting. But I was determined to make it the whole 4 miles, so I started a paddling. We were keeping up with each other pretty well until a canoe towing van stopped and gave them all a ride back. Arrgh! So I paddled with all my might that last mile or so. Being a cloudy day (yeah, I know you should still wear sunscreen) I thought myself invincible and so only sporadically and half drunk applied some stick sunscreen. Well, by the end of the day I was rendered pink with a few white squiggly lines. Now the skin on my chest feels kinda like fine grain sandpaper. Can't wait to go again! | | Monday, July 11th, 2005 | | 1:54 pm |
the day we hiked forever
We loaded up my car and headed off to West Virginia around 11 on Saturday night. We arrived by night, drove around the filled pay camping area and decided on a little spot down the road by the gas lines. It was only Marco and I this time. We set up camp, had a few beers and took in the complete silence. It was the kind of silence where your ears strain to hear something, anything. Before long we heard the sporadic, distant hum of a generator and the wet crunching sound of bugs. We made our way towards the generator sound. It wasn't too far from the gate we parked in front of. There were a few pipes going into the ground, and 2 big metal tanks. We climbed up the steps along the side of one of them and banged on the hollow metal. With not much else to do, it was time for bed. We both dropped off to sleep almost immediately.
Suddently it was the next day. We had some beans, beer and coffee grounds mixed with sugar. The coffee was brewed by our spit as we let it sit in our mouths. Welcome to today! The caffeine went straight to our heads and we were ready for a 10 mile hike. The trail was bumpy in parts, but otherwise quite pleasant. High on the peak of the mountain, beautiful vistas were obstructed by trees. We took a break and rolled around and hit stuff with sticks. Now with the peak behind us, it was time for our descent. Descent isn't always as straightforward as ascent. And so gradually the old logging road grew thicker with vegetation. Flies closed in around us and stayed with us for quite some time. We trudged forward and found a stream. We followed the stream until we heard a road. Finally we had reached the road. What road is it? Hmm... We're way off course. We should be on the other side of that ridge. And so we walked. My legs had long since stopped being sore. They were now made out of rubber. I used my body's momentum to pick up one limp leg and swing it forward, then then next. People driving by weren't stopping to help us. Complete exhaustion was no excuse to stop hiking. This was about survival now. Finally we neared an intersection. Luckily, we had conserved our food for just such an occasion. We had made it to a road and according to the book, it was only another 4 miles. And it'd be an easier four miles compared to the trail. It was time to eat, drink and rest for a few minutes. The journey wasn't over yet.
So we turned right at the intersection and hiked back up the mountain we had just come off of. After a while someone stopped and gave us a ride. They dropped us off about a half mile up the road at the split. They went to meet up with friends. We hiked onward. Just a short mile and half left to go! Time for the red bull that we had been saving all this time. We neared a corner. After this corner, the road should open to the parking area and the car will be there. Nope. Maybe next corner. Yeah, that's a fun game to play.
Well, we finally made it back to the car. Some estimates put our total hike around 14 or 15 miles. The sun was setting. We had gotten back just in time. I set up my lawn chair and had a little looksy at that sun, casting its rosy tint on everything. We earned this sunset, this water, this sit down time. Even the flies showed us some respect by leaving us alone. Next time I oughtta bring a compass and a GPS unit. | | Monday, June 27th, 2005 | | 12:07 pm |
Bruceton Mills
Marco and I loaded up the van. Dan, Liza, Colby and Amber loaded up the TouAreg. Then we all headed down to the usual spot in Bruceton Mills, Wv. We made good time and so were a little early for our rendezvous, so we took a short detour to check out Cooper's Rock. The rock is about 100 yards from the parking lot and offers a nice view of the valley and surrounding forests. Tis a nice place. Then we hiked down and around the rock and waved to the people up top before meeting up with Arash and Chris at the BP. This is our usual source for last minute essentials... such as food and water and more beer. It'd been a while since the Belize crew was all together, so that was also a nicety. We all made it to the halfway point in the off road section, right after the rickety bridge. It's not all that rickety if you follow the posted weight limit of 3 tons. At 4 tons, the van took that bridge to its limits. Due to the steep muddy hill that follows, this is where we consolidated cars and such. At the end of the road there's a big rocky beach type area with some decent waterfalls along with several good sized camping areas.
It's not clear who owns the property. There's no gates, no camping fees, no fences, no easy way for authorities to get back there. There's no rules, really. There seems to be a good bit of day trippers out there: whole families on quads, dirt bikes, a few trucks. There's some 'no trespassing' signs posted by a Mountain Man Militia, but I've never ventured off the beaten path to have a run in with them.
A little past the end of the road there's a small little spot just big enough for Colby's tent. 3 sides of this drop down to the water. The trail continues on and passes a bigger camping spot. After this, there's another good sized area with easy access to the water. Some useful things have been left here such as a decent sized grill, a rusty knife strapped to a tree, a good firepit, etc. We set up camp with plenty of sunlight left. Dan tucked his tent a little way from the rest of us in a place that might've been mistaken for a convenient peeing area. He was quick to nip any such thoughts in the bud. Soon we played and frolicked on the rocks and in the water. Then we all enjoyed Liza's yummies that she had prepared for dinner: kielbasa, good rolls, scallopped potatoes with prosciutto and eggplant. At some point Andy quietly appeared. There were lasers and star gazing and all manner of silliness. Dan's laser was much more manly than Arash's.
At one point when Marco was relaxing on the hammock, Chris walked over and slapped him around. He straddled Marco, called him his "drinking bitch" and poured beer down his gullet over and over. A lot of it made it onto his shirt, all over his face and in his hair. From 10 yards away, Dan proclaimed to Marco: I can smell you from here. It was time for a rinse. So Marco and Chris laughed their way over the rocks and into the stream. The current happily pushed them around. I had never seen Chris so carefree and downright giggle happy. The ticket price for such a ride proved to be his $300 watch.
And then there was the bullhorn. Up to this point it had recieved only passing attention. Mixed with alcohol and that carefree spirit our little neck of the woods brings about in people, it soon had it's time. We passed it around the campfire when someone had something ridiculous to say. Sometimes it was directed vaguely towards the campers a 1/4 mile away or so. Luckily, the sound of the falls drowned it all out and they weren't disturbed by our late night antics. One line that got a lot of mileage was said in a bad German accent: DON'T BE AFRAID, ZIS IS A BOMBING RAID!! At some point Andy started looking for a spot to set up his tent. He wasn't around for Dan's earlier reminder that the area around his tent was not for peeing. A friendly reminder quickly turned into accusations loudly announced over the horn: ANDY, DON'T PEE OVER THERE. ANDY, STOP PEEING OVER THERE. ANDY, STOP PEEING ON EVERYONE'S STUFF!!!
After my common sense had been subverted through several beers, I started drinking the coconut rum like it was candy. The forensic evidence was easy for the early risers to piece together the next morning: a chair laying on its side next to a puddle of last night's dinner. Perhaps there was a drunkard within our midst? Anyway, after I retired to my tent, I let out the occasional chuckle at what I heard going on. There was more frolicking, but this time in and around the fire. Marco was simply trying to dry off. Dan got frisky and started to wrestle with Marco rolling him into the fire, then they rammed into my tent numerous times. Finally Dan char-grilled Marco medium-well. After Dan saw the grill marks down Marco's face and arm he blamed Marco for stubbing his little toe so that he could have a little pity too. There were also numerous hammock flippings that Marco endured. But all of that is a hazy memory.
We all eased into the day and broke down camp. After looking for his watch in vain, Chris headed back to D.C. with Arash. Andy made his exit as quietly and suddenly as he appeared. Apparently his keys were in Arash's rover. If he hadn't left with him, it would have been another walk out of the woods. See, most of Andy's walks out of the woods have been with Marco as one of their cars would inevitably get stuck pretty bad in the mud. So he prefers to drive out to make up for those times. Before he left, Andy sniffed and asked if he smelled cologne on Colby.
amber: Yes, we're both wearing cologne.
marco: Yeah, are you getting bit by bugs? Huh, huh? That is because they are attracted to that shit you idiots!
Welcome to the group, Amber. Swimming was followed by more swimming. Down the trail a little way is a calmer part of the stream. It's just past Stereo Rock, where the sound of the stream bounces off the cliff that's next to the trail. We played and relaxed and finished off the last of the vodka, which was mixed some Gatorade. It dehydrates while rehydrating, right? With one less vehicle than when we arrived, we filled up the TouAreg and most of us hiked the mile or so back to the bridge where we de-consolidated things somewhat and started the trip back home. On the way back to the gas station, there were two birds lazily pecking at the road. As the van sped towards them, they lazily started to fly off. One bird made it. The other bird only got about 1 1/2 flaps of his wings in before becoming acquainted with Marco's grill. Time for some bird jerky! | | Monday, June 20th, 2005 | | 11:26 am |
Seneca rocks area
We were finally on the road around 11 on Friday. Damon, Marco, Sophia, Vinka, Dubravka and I all piled into the van. The 4 hour drive was made all the more comfortable having no seats in the back and having our equipment thrashed about from taking turns at high speeds. There's no use in crying over a little bit of spilled beer, though. By 4am we had finally reached our destination, where we were to rendezvous with Arash. It was a field. Scratch that. It was a pasture. It was the pasture that the farmer told Marco he could camp at the last time he was here. The last time there were only 3 or 4 cows. This time there were upwards of 40. There's nothing like cows being wakened up and being a little miffed at our unfamiliar scenty presence. So we chased them away. Minutes later they slowly made their way back to us. It was so weird being surrounded by cows in the dark, seeing only their eyes reflected, hearing them moo, not knowing what they might do next. Regardless, we started setting up the tent. Soon we heard the crunch of distant gravel. Then we noticed the cows were quietly closing in on us again. Lights were seen glowing over the next hill. So we hastily packed everything up, thinking we were in trouble. A vehicle approached and came to a screeching halt. Arash!
We set up camp and saw Dubravka and the kids off to sleep in the van. We drank, hung out and talked till the morning birds started chirping. It was time for sleep. And besides, the cows had long since mellowed.
I was awakened by a horn honking. Sleep overshadowed my curiosity, so I drifted back to dreamland where I was being poked and prodded. Yes, the uneven ground was poking and prodding my ribs as I squirmed to find just the right position. It turns out the cows had gotten their revenge on us for waking them up in the middle of the night. They had surrounded both vehicles and starting bumping up against them, rocking them. Arash swears they were trying to tip his car over. That's when he started honking his horn, trying to scare them off. I had never experienced anything like that before. Good thing the bull wasn't loose. Funny how they left the tent alone.
It was time to go eat some of those cows' cousins. We found a nice little country place. Marco ordered 3 plates of food: country ham and eggs, breakfast ham and eggs, home fries, sausage and biscuits with gravy, orange juice, water and coffee. The rest of us ate human sized portions of food. Now it was time to hike. The guidebook described it as an easy trail that was good for children, and that should take about an hour to complete round trip. Oh, but that was too simple for us! When we got to the view, and the turnaround point, we took a break. We took in the view and decided to forge on ahead and take the other trail that would meet up with the road about a mile from where we were parked. And so we hiked. The forest closed in around us, the moss softened our path. It was the ultimate trail we had always imagined our back yards were when we were growing up. It was where Ewoks would make their homes if they would settle on this planet. We hiked until we were tired. But we couldn't stop, so we hiked onward. We hiked through our exhaustion until we reached paranoia. Had we taken a wrong turn? Surely we were close to the end of the trail! Had we expended all that effort hiking in the wrong direction? Would we be stranded and have to spend the night somehow? Were we going to die here in the wilderness? Oh, what a trip! After 4 hours of hiking, the road appeared before us again. We were halfway there now. We flagged down the one and only car that passed by. Marco did the talking and found out they were lost. I provided the prop: the map, so we could help them out. Vinka provided the cute factor that they just couldn't resist. And so we talked them into giving Arash a ride back to the cars. The rest of us hiked on.
We all met up and searched for food. The all you can eat Chinese buffet proved to be irresistible. We said our goodbyes to Arash and then we drove. We ended up on top of a mountain and set up camp. We relaxed, drank by the campfire, took in the fresh air and enjoyed the peace. There were no cows taunting us tonight. The morning greeted us with mist. I was the man on the misty mountain. We used Damon's portable grill to cook up the dozen eggs we had gotten for 79 cents. With no butter, we decided to heat the sausages up first to grease the pan in preparation for the eggs. Those were the best damn eggs I've ever had. They were so fluffy and fresh with just the right amount of sausage grease. We leisurely broke down camp throughout the day and made for home. Camping season has just begun! | | Wednesday, May 25th, 2005 | | 5:48 pm |
Dublin
in dublin, sometimes, when you're relaxing watching tv with not a care in the world and the window is open, you'll hear a series of ghastly screams from from a group of people somewhere nearby... i have no explanation at this point... perhaps it has something to do with the big football match in istanbul. | | Tuesday, May 24th, 2005 | | 9:33 pm |
Edinburgh day 2
Yeah, I've skipped a few days due to lack of internet access. But here's what I wrote of the 2nd day of the trip. After this I pretty much stopped with the writings. You just gotta be here:
It's been a day of chillin, walking the length of Rose Street (a nice pedestrian thing lined with pubs), applying for jobs, eating haggis, and sitting around the hotel easing away from the jet lag. Night fell around 10, which was my queue to go out and see what I could see. Monday. I went back to the Grassmarket via a different route this time. There were several "nice places" along the way. Every pub was pretty much dead except for the place where I enjoyed the absinthe.
I trucked on, wondering what was going on at Subway. The bouncer informed me it'd be dead till 11 or 1. So I made it back to Salsa, to kill some time. After tiring of that place, I wandered around looking for what was next. I was handed a flier for Opium, Edinburgh's only dedicated rock club. Ok, what the hell. And it was next door to Subway. First floor was dead, but I grabbed a drink. Second floor was hopping and the dance floor was packed with exclusively cute girls. Excellent. After several songs, I detected a pattern: french rock. Whatever. I drank. I loosened up and tore it up on the dance floor. Turns out it was French rock night. It was time to call it a night. Wait! Let's give the Subway another chance, it being after 11 by now. Still dead. Next door was another club by the name of Vodka. Dead. Ok, I gave up and made for home. A block down I noticed a sign for Espionage. What the hell. Another club with no cover and I like exploring places, especially when they have serious decor. First floor was dead, the Lizard Lounge. Lots of neat nooks and crannies. Oh, and there was a second floor, the Kasbar. It was dead, complete with yet more interesting nooks and crannies. I found a flier and realized I was actually on level minus 2. It didn't make sense, but I made it up to the 4th and top floor, which met up with the Royal Mile at street level. There's some crazy topography in Edinburgh. Back down to the level I skipped, level minus 3 called Pravda. I got a drink. The bartender assured me that even he gets lost in that place. But this level was hoppin. 80's mashups and just plain good dance music filled the dance floor. I, again, let loose. Oh, the things people do here in the clubs. And there's no gross atmosphere here. The people are friendly, having fun, hooking up, no drama, no fronts. Several times my foot was stepped on while off to the side sipping my drink and the various people made sure to make eye contact and sincerely apologize in passing. Cool. The place filled up and my energy dwindled, so I made it home by 2, shit will be kicking till 3 at least. And it's a Monday. I gotta move here. Crossing the street stumbling home a bit tipsy and still not used to which direction to look for traffic made things all the more harrowing. | | Sunday, May 15th, 2005 | | 5:10 pm |
Edinburgh day 1
OK. It's been, let me think... Saturday I woke up around 10am, flew overnight with no sleep, took a bus to Glasgow, then a taxi to see the grannie. We hung out and smelled what it's like to be 90, going crazy, and alone for the most part. Despite that, it was nice to see the old hag, whom I hadn't seen in 5 years. Let's just say a lot can change in 5 years. Then we got in another taxi, got on a train and headed to Edinburgh where we hiked with luggage until we found the place and checked in. Mumsy took a short nap and I fought to stay awake and kick this jet lag. By the time I found myself to be sunken deep in a comfy chair, mumsy awoke and sought out some very tasty Marks and Spencer frozen Indian dinners. The quality of frozen dinners over here is miles beyond what is available in Pittsburgh. Then I headed out to see what I could see. I made my way to an old cemetery and took a picture of a grave from 1735, and hiked up the steep fortified hill to the castle walls and took a picture of some old access gate. Then I made my to the nearest pub in the Grassmarket. I quickly found myself a shot of absynthe and decided to call it a night. After all, I've been awake for 31 hours now. My fingers are swollen, I have a runny nose, I feel more drunk that I should and everything is fairly surreal. It's tempting, in this mindset to push things a little further. I've always wanted to see how long I could stay up, document the effects and revel in the absurd. But perhaps I should save that for another time.
Almost forgot, there is something amazing that I've never seen before here, where we're statying (the Edinburgh Residence). There is an honor bar. It's a full wet bar. There's a little stack of paper and some pens. As you drink, note it down. The prices are posted. Afterwards they not only trust that you'll be accurate in your assessment, but that you'll then walk that piece of paper over to reception and settle the "tab". I must admit, I have mixed feelings about it. Nevertheless, I'm sure my conscience will be alright with not being 100% accurate. It's not as if we're in some innocent little village where everyone knows each other and trusts each other and the hotels don't require credit cards to reserve a room; where simply your word that you'll show up is enough for them to not rent it out to anyone else. | | Wednesday, April 27th, 2005 | | 8:23 pm |
palm springs
I should've guessed things wouldn't be normal when it snowed in Palm Springs, CA the day before my arrival. I had a layover in Dallas after getting on an earlier standby. There's this sense of winning something when you actually get on a flight that way. The suspense builds and you have time to think about what you'll do with all of that extra time at your destination. As the minutes go by and waiting passengers dwindle down to a few hopefuls, you begin to wonder what you'll do with all of that extra time at the airport. So I thought I was on a winning streak when I made the early connection flying standby as well. Nevermind the savvy business traveller already making contingency plans after hearing that the Palm Springs airport had been closed due to wind and rain. After all, we were flying standby twice in one day! Not just me, but, all three of us felt lucky. See, my parents were having me along for the first half of their little two week getaway.
The flight was smooth and enjoyable. I found myself sitting next to a well-to-do real estate woman with a big sparkly diamond ring. It was difficult not to notice. I milked her for pearls of wisdom, advice, know-how and general guidlines on how to replicate Trump's success. The pilot announced that we had arrived at Palm Springs, and were in a holding pattern due to the airport being closed. So Mr. Savvy was on to something. But I thought that surely a little wind and rain wouldn't intimidate the locals too long. Besides, the pilot confidently announced that we had literally tons of extra fuel to wait it out.
So after running low on fuel, the pilot informed us that we would be arriving in LAX shortly. My first sight upon entering the airport was the usual forgettable crowd of people waiting... and waiting. They looked like they had been waiting for nearly a decade. Their muscles had long since atrophied. Hope had long since vanished from their faces. They had given in to their fate of being eternally tormented with anticipation. Anticipation can be a horrible thing in large doses.
Gazing over this sea of people caught in this endless limbo state, my eyes were quickly drawn to a person with their hooded sweatshirt curiously drawn over their face. A ticketperson rushed from the hooded oddity to the ticket counter and mumbled something about an eyelid and a zipper. My ears perked up. But there wasn't much of a sense of immediacy among the ticket people. Curious and bemused I asked what was happening. The lady took in a quick breath to answer and satiate my curiosity when my phone rang and Mrs. Fancy-Diamond appeared to thank me for helping her with her bags. Stunned by the sudden distractions, I only mustered a lame "oh... yeah", squeezed the phone in my shirt pocket to turn off the ringer and turned, again, to ask my question a second time. "Are you a doctor?", she responded. "Uh, no". Then, it was as if I had never been there. She picked up her CB radio-looking thing and announced to the entire terminal: "If there is a doctor, please come to terminal 42. If there is a doctor, please come to terminal 42. This is an emergency".
A tall man with a large belly leisurely waddled up to the ticket counter. "Are you a doctor?". "Yes I am", he replied. "Are you a surgeon?". "Yes I am", he replied before being escorted to the girl with her eyelid caught in the zipper of her hooded sweatshirt. My parents had finally made it off the plane and suddenly there were more important things to attend to. It was now time to reclaim our luggage.
There were a few buses that had been arranged for us lucky winners that would make the two hour road trip from Los Angeles to Palm Springs. We quickly found our suitcases and made it onto the first bus. In an attempt to expedite things, some of the luggage was loaded onto the buses before it had been claimed. Some of it wasn't. This took a long time to resolve. After a long wait the bus finally pulled away from the curb. It moved about ten feet before coming to a halt. There was an angry person knocking on the front door and yelling. It was the variety of yelling that stems from not being amused by a two hour diversion that could have been avoided. Yeah, the next flight to Palm Springs landed with no problems. The people on that flight arrived and were cozied up in their hotel rooms before we even saw the Palm Springs exit off of the highway. Arrgh. The man's concerns regarding his desire to be reacquainted with his luggage that was so presumptiously loaded onto the bus were quickly resolved. "I'm not sitting on that goddamed thing for three goddammed hours at this time of night!". It was a persuasive argument against "It's already loaded", and despite it only being 7:45 PM local time.
The bus sat idle for no reason for 10 more minutes with the door open. It had already been made clear that not one seat was free. Mutiny was setting in. My mom loudly vowed to drive the bus herself if she had to. She and everyone else shouted "Let's go!" at the mere sight of the bus driver's boss, as he meandered through the gathering throng outside. He had the wonderful task of explaining that the bus was full, but that there would be more on the way... soon. "Soon" is a fairly vague term which provides little comfort in a crisis. He had his work cut out for him. The boss set foot on the bus to a crescendo of "Let's go!!". His face went blank as he pieced together what was about to happen if he didn't think of something good and quick. In his Indian accent he proclaimed: "OK, you're going now, are you happy? Let's go". A chorus of "Yeah!" rang out and we were off for a second time on the last leg of this long and seemingly never ending journey. Three feet into it we were stopped by a red light.
About an hour down the road, the rain was pouring and the bus was hot. People were begining to wake from their unrestful light sleep to voice their complaint. Someone approached the driver to personally inform him that the temperature had reached approximately 150 degrees. A kind gentleman, he put on the air conditioning. It wasn't long before the windshield fogged up. I heard the clicks and clacks of controls as he tried in vain to correct the problem. Our swift 70 mile an hour ride had slowed to a crawling 30 mph. Vehicles became nothing more than blurs with fuzzy lights. The bus gently swayed from side to side. Shouts began to ring out again. "Pull over till we figure it out!". Then desperation set in. "Please pull over, pleeease". Then the old man in the front passenger seat stood up and lent his apparent bus expertise. His troubleshooting and further shouts of common sense from the peanut gallery simply had no effect. "Put the defroster on!". So the old man resorted to lending his snotty tissue that he kept in his front pocket (for just such an occasion) to our common cause. For the rest of the ride he was compelled to repeat this process about every 7 minutes or so, wiping the windshield clear of for the driver, while smearing it with god knows what.
A sign indicating that the Palm Springs exit was near provoked applause. We turned right at the end of the off ramp and were stopped. The road was closed. People sunk back in their seats and let out a collective sigh of exasperation. After all we had been through, this was too much and everyone's energy and hope had been spent. Now what do we do? The old man, once again, came to the rescue. It turns out he was a local and so was able to direct the driver through a nice little scenic route. It turned out the prissy rich folk weren't over-dramatizing their little bit of wind and rain, after all. The whole place was flooded. Golf courses had become impassable rapids carrying brown muck across low lying roads. Even the airport runways that we finally drove by were under perhaps 4 inches of water.
Our long awaited arrival was half experienced, half dreamt. people were tired, delirious, nervous, agitated, relieved, half asleep, confused and a little hungry. Finally at the hotel room and after half a bottle of wine, I was ready for bed. I started dosing off when the whole world started grumbling and shaking. Was the roof going to collapse on my face? Was I already dreaming? What the hell is going on!? It was the longest five seconds I've ever experienced. I had just witnessed my first earthquake. Ah, welcome to paradise! | | 1:49 pm |
word fun
Someone misspelled "popup" and instead wrote "poup". I guess that would be sOUP-like POop. Thus we have "poup". If you put it on your head and put on a bad French accent, it's then a "poupee", not unlike a toupee.
"you're insane" sounds too much like "urine stain"
"country" is an interesting word. What kind of tree is it? Ah yes, a tree that bears sweet fruit.
Create a sentence made up mostly of the same sounds. For example, if little Johnny wanted to get into his older brother's awesome tree house, his brother might say there's a required initiation. The initiation might include, as a joke, having to step into a bucket of urine. And thus, he might say: "If you're in urine, you're IN".
"Jen'll tell ya" sounds too much like "genitalia"
... I have to credit Pierre with this one:
throw ya hands way up in the air... and try to catch them with ya wrists! | | 1:09 pm |
nippin
At the office, we all call in our orders and I pick it all up. It's that pizza shop close to my bank, so it works out when I deposit checks and such. This happens a few times a month, frequently enough that now I'm no longer an anonymous customer with the pizza folks. The teller has a serious eastern European accent.
teller: Hey baddie!
She calls me "buddy" now. I don't even know her name. She follows that up with a bright cheery smile that's almost convincing.
teller: Only 2 hoagies today?
me: yep
teller: Oh, you're trying to save manney.
me: huh?
teller: Only 2 hoagies, you're trying to save manney.
me: Ah... No, there's just 2 of us today.
teller: I get you coupon.
me: What?
teller: I get you coupon. Ha! I joking. Save you money. OK. $14.60.
me: Thanks...
teller: See you next week!!
People are weird sometimes... So weird even I'm taken off guard. And I'm not going to be there next week. I'll be there when I have another check to deposit. But she says it with such excitement that I don't want to let her down. So I say: "Yeah, next week it is!". Inevitably I skip a week, or even two or three.
teller: Where have you been? It's been three weeks, baddie!
me: It's been a long time... babe.
That's what I'll say next time. I'm so going to call her "babe" and see just how far we can take this. Or "toots". Or "hun". Or how about "darlin" or "sweetheart". I'll figure something out. I've got a few weeks. |
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