Is there anything more terrifying than having a few drinks and playing Guitar Hero?
I suck ass at even the "easy" level, and alcohol doesn't seem to help.
In happier news, I finally saw the film Kinky Boots and am absolutely astounded at the acting ability (flexibility?) of Chiwetel Ejiofor. The guy is amazingly talented. His role as "The Operative" in Serenity is by far my favorite, but his playing the transvestite "Lola" in Kinky Boots blew my mind. Now I am really wanting to see Dirty Pretty Things.
Despite being rainy and a bit depressing, the weather in Seattle is still a massive improvement over Spokane.
I'm not sick, but I feel like I am.
For the third day in a row, I've barely been able to get motivated enough to climb out of bed in the morning. It's like I have no energy, and am tired all the time. When I was finally awake enough to start working at 8:30, I was in a zombie-like state and could barely function. A simple project that should have taken 30 minutes ended up taking over an hour to complete. Worried that I might never leave my hotel room, I forced myself out so I could have a "black bean burger" at Chili's. It was delicious, but didn't help. All I wanted to do was go back to bed...
But instead I spent the next six hours working my ass off in an attempt to get caught up before the weekend.
To be honest, I don't know that I'm much further along than I was when I started. Being so badly unproductive is really depressing, and I'm getting worried that I'm not going to snap out of this funk any time soon.
I need to hire somebody to give me a really good bitch-slapping.
Unfortunately, looking under "B" in the Yellow Pages hasn't turned up any results.
I suppose this must be a job for Craigslist?
After one of the most painless travel days ever, I finally arrived home... for one night only. Tomorrow morning I re-pack my bags and head back out. Which is kind of a bummer, because I could use a few days at home.
In other news... I'm old.
I got a Happy Holiday card from Avitable, and I couldn't read it until I put on an old pair of reading glasses I found laying around. Then I started looking at books, magazines, and other stuff... and suddenly realized that I really need glasses now...
That's a heck of a reality check to have on a holiday.
Where does the time go?
This morning after I hauled my ass out of bed, I checked my email and saw that I had been forwarded a militant message encouraging people to TAKE BACK CHRISTMAS! The way you do this is to "wish as many people a MERRY CHRISTMAS as possible between now and December 25th." Apparently, this is to counteract the political correctness of people switching to "happy holidays" and "destroying the spirit of Christmas."
I found this to be more than a little strange, and couldn't for the life of me figure out how randomly ambushing people with a "MERRY CHRISTMAS" was going to TAKE IT BACK.
Not that I have anything against people saying "Merry Christmas" mind you.
Here, reproduced in its entirety, is my entry for December 25th, 2005:
There's nothing wrong with wishing people a Merry Christmas.
Yet, it's quickly becoming almost taboo to do so, and I just don't get it.
I don't wish people a "Merry Christmas" because I'm not a Christian and don't celebrate the holiday. But do I get gravely offended when people are kind enough to wish me a "Merry Christmas?" No. I do not. Why? Because they're being NICE. Because they're wishing me HAPPINESS. Because they're caught up in the spirit of their holiday and are being KIND. This happens so rarely in our bitter, cynical world that I find it impossible to understand how people could take offense... even if they don't celebrate Christmas.
I mean, it's not like somebody's just told you to kiss their ass.
And you just know that it's only a matter of time before some dumbass decides to sue somebody for wishing them a "Merry Christmas" (if it hasn't happened already). This is America, after all.
Which leads me to this burning question: is it really so difficult to just say "thank you," accept the kindness in the spirit it was given, and then shut the f#@% up about it?
Probably not. This is America, after all.
So, while I fully support somebody's right to be wishing people a "Merry Christmas," you'll have to forgive me for not joining in on the jihad to TAKE BACK CHRISTMAS. Not just because I don't celebrate the holiday... but because this type of thing doesn't seem very much in keeping with the spirit of Christmas.
I don't have internet, so I have no idea when I can post this. How typical.
Three days ago, I read an entry over at "A Pile of Dog Bones" that has been haunting me ever since. In his blog, Watchdog talks about the difference between being alone and being lonely, and comes to the conclusion that both are empty feelings that cause a sense of desperation, and the only difference is that "one is an absolute and the other is an abstract."
Since I am often alone (whether it be because I'm working all the time or traveling as often as I do) this kind of struck a chord with me. And on a night like tonight when I'm far from home, sitting down for dinner in the middle of an empty Pizza Hut restaurant staring at a single-serving Personal Pan Pizza... well, it's not difficult to see why.
The only difference being that I don't mind being alone.
Mostly because I never feel lonely.
Sure there are times I wish I had a nine-to-five job where I could stop work at a sane hour and do the whole "hey honey, I'm home" thing, but that's not the life I have. I suppose if that's what I really wanted, I could go and make it happen... but it would seem that I'm content with things the way they are, because I'm not inclined to change. I do the best I can to stay in touch with friends and family, and that seems to be enough. For me anyway...
And yet...
When I stop and think about it, how is it possible that I'm not lonely?
Any rational person would look at my life and say that I should be lonely.
Perhaps it's because I'm deluded.
More likely it's because I was hurt so badly by somebody in my past that I'd rather be alone the rest of my life than risk suffering like that again.
Anything is possible.
But, then again, I'll always have you.
Well smack my ass and call me Sally.
This morning I woke up at first-light so I could try once again to install a new battery in my car. As I mentioned yesterday, Saturn designed a bracket to hold the battery in place (good) but it has the binding bolts in really stupid places (bad). In order to remove the bracket, you need something like an air-powered flat ratchet for one of the bolts... and a long extension ratchet head for the other one. I, of course, own neither of those things. There's really no need to own those things unless you are an auto mechanic.
So after an hour of getting nowhere, I finally decide to put on a dress, then grab a matching purse and shoes so I can go pay a mechanic to install the battery...
So thanks a fucking load Saturn. Nothing can emasculate a man faster than having to pay another guy to put a battery in his car. Seriously, how fucking difficult would it be to design the shit so that anybody with a pair of pliers and a screwdriver can take care of it? Is that really too much to ask? I mean, I own a good set of manly tools... I even have a Dremel for criminey's sake... shouldn't that be enough to do something as simple as replacing the battery in your car? Yes. Yes it should. Because, when you think about it, the time that most people have to replace their battery is probably a time when they least expect it, and they may not have any tools available. Why not a simple locking pressure clamp with no tools required? Why force guys to have to wear dresses with matching shoes and handbags as they pay a mechanic to deal with this simple shit?
There is no good reason I can think of except that you hire asshole engineers who get sadistic pleasure out of torturing your customers.
I seriously need to go drink a six-pack of beer while watching football and farting as I scratch my balls so I can get some of my manhood back.
Though I should probably change out of this dress first.
Despite the fact that I had to go to the dentist for my 6-month check-up first thing this morning, I woke up in kind of a good mood. Sure I had a ton of work to do but, thanks to a handful of sleeping pills, I got a good night's sleep and was feeling okay. That doesn't happen too often now-a-days, so I put a smile on my face and decided to just roll with it.
Then I stepped outside.
It was raining. Hard. I was all ready to wipe that smile off my face and let my mood go sour... but then I looked up...
This photo hardly does it justice, but there was a massive rainbow arching across the entire sky. And, even though you can't tell from the picture, they sky was actually a nice shade of blue. Like this...
In person, the rainbow was spectacular. Bright, vivid, colors that shot across the sky like a Hollywood movie special effect! My happiness was reinstated. I didn't care that it was raining.
But then I got in my automobile. And it wouldn't start. Probably because of my drive over the pass on Sunday, which was undoubtedly a massive strain on the 7-year-old battery that came with the car. Crap.
So now I have to borrow a car to get to my dentist appointment AND buy a new battery. Life is really sucking today. Though my teeth cleaning went pretty well, and there wasn't much need for the dental instruments of torture...
Surprisingly, the rainbow had followed me into Wenatchee, and was shining brighter than ever as I went to buy a new car battery...
And then it was back to work for six hours until I could find a ride home and install my battery.
Except the engineer who designed my Saturn SC-2 is a sadistic fucker, and replacing my battery was not as easy as it has been IN EVERY OTHER CAR I'VE EVER SEEN. The damn thing is bolted in with a stupid-ass metal shield of some kind, and none of my tools are long enough to unscrew the shit. So I work on the bracket without success, until it gets too dark and I can't see what I'm doing.
Fucking piece of crap Saturn.
Seriously. I bought the damn thing because I wanted to support American workers by purchasing an American car. But it has been a steaming pile of shit from the very beginning. And now, on top of having error lights that won't go out no matter how much I pay the Saturn repair shop, it has a battery that you can't remove with standard tools.
In the morning I'll give it another try. If I can't get it to work, I'll just rent a fucking blow-torch and cut the shit off. Or light the entire car on fire and laugh maniacally as it explodes.
Ooh! I guess I ended up in a bad mood after all.
Stupid rainbow.
Uhhhh... yeah... my home state is in a bit of trouble just now...
Can't we ship this stuff to someplace where they really need it?
Hmmm... I should probably set down my drink to do this...
Tonight I drank obscene amounts of alcohol and then went to see Mike Birbiglia in concert at the Moore Theater here in Seattle with friends. He is one of the funniest people on the planet (even when you're not drunk), so you should go buy his albums right now and be sure to check out his Comedy Central Video Special.
I took lots of pictures today, but with my crappy iPhone camera, so none of them turned out very good (why does everything always come out so DARK?). Some of them become acceptable when Photoshopped to death though.
I've kind of got one-handed, no-look iPhone photography down to a science. I focus my attention on driving while pushing my iPhone to the windshield so I can pretty much capture exactly what I see out my window without having to even look at iPhone...
Lots of snow dropped on Stevens Pass last night, but the roads were good...
Once over the pass, the snow disappeared pretty fast...
Doing our best to support the German economy...
It's Mike Birbiggleboo Birbigglebug Birbigglebutt Birbiglia at The Moore...
Wow. That iPhone camera really sucks ass unless the lighting is totally perfect. Whenever I complain, everybody tells me that ALL mobile phone cameras suck ass... but my old Motorola did a lot better than this.
Oh well. I had big fun tonight (even if my blog is down and I can't post this until morning). Tomorrow is a much-deserved day of nothing but goofing off before a full week of nothing but work, so at least I have something to look forward to.
Hanging around a hospital all day can be entertaining... if you work at it.
Fortunately they had free wi-fi internet, which helped, but there was still plenty of time to wander around and come up with stuff to occupy my time. My favorite game? GUESS THAT STAIN!
Surprisingly (or not surprisingly, when you think about it), there are quite a few stains to be found all over the hospital. And every time I see one, I can't help but wonder what might have caused it...
Of course me (being me) always determined that the stains were from a brain leak, or an exploding pancreas, or a spinal tap gone terribly wrong, or some other kind of freaky medical improbability. But I guess that's what makes it fun.
What's definitely not fun is watching a family receive bad news. It happens at hospitals... you would expect it to happen at hospitals... but that doesn't make it any less painful to witness.
Tomorrow is going to be a long, long day. But it has a really good thing happening at the end, so all I have to do is hang on until then and I'll be in good shape.
In the meanwhile, I'm going to sulk and bitch about all the snow.
As I have no doubt mentioned many times before, I loathe shopping and avoid it like the plague. If I need something, I'll visit a physical store only as a last resort, preferring to buy stuff on the internet whenever possible. Well, today it finally became unavoidable, and a shopping expedition into the nearby city of Wenatchee was required...
...on one of the worst days of the year to be doing so, the day before Thanksgiving (with the very worst day obviously being Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving).
Anyway, here's my shopping for the day...
Folding Door Runner: My closet door broked, so I had to buy a replacement piece at Home Depot. Just like every other time I've been here, trying to find anything in this massive store is nigh impossible when you can't get somebody to help you. After 15 minutes of getting nowhere, I finally turn to leave in disgust when some guy on his lunch break is walking through and tells me where to go. It was the wrong aisle, but eventually I DO find my runner. I'm off to a terrible start.
Pizza: I had a coupon for Papa Murphy's, so I dropped by to get a Cheese Pizza for dinner on Friday.
String Cheese: I went to Costco specifically to find these incredible Multigrain Tortilla Chips from FoodShouldTasteGood...
When I couldn't find the chips, I was determined not to leave empty-handed and ended up getting a 60-pack of string cheese. As much as I love string cheese, this will probably last me into February.
Peppermint Crunch Junior Mints: I may not celebrate Christmas, but I'm not about to pass up on delicious holiday treats because of it! Food Pavilion always has a nifty selection of seasonal sweets, so I dropped by and found new Crunchy Junior Mints. They aren't as crunchy as the packaging would have you believe (they need bigger pieces of candy on the top for that), but they're still killer good...
Black Bean Chipotle Gardenburgers: My favorite frozen veggie burger is the Black Bean Chipotle patties from Gardenburger. I love them. LOVE THEM!! Then two months ago I couldn't find them anymore. And I looked everywhere. I stopped at every grocery store I could find in every city I went to. Ultimately, I figured that they must have been discontinued (even though they're still listed on the Gardenburger site). On a whim, I decided to look at Food Pavilion after I got my crunchy mints. I nearly broke down in tears when I looked into the freezer case and saw them there staring back at me. I bought all ten boxes they had...
Please, please, please tell me that these are not the last Black Bean Chipotle Gardenburgers on earth. My heart cannot take losing Coke with Lime AND my beloved burgers too. The bad news is that my freezer is now totally full. Beyond full. If I find anymore Black Bean Chipotle Gardenburgers, I won't be able to buy them until I eat some of the ones I already have. Or throw out the chocolate ice cream. What a dilemma that would be.
And that was all the shopping I could stand for the day. For the month, really.
Of course, there's only one thing worse than shopping during the holidays, and that would be traveling during the holidays. Knowing that I have not one, but two trips coming up makes me want to scream... then cry... then drink until I pass out.
Instead I'm going to write up a business proposal, sketch out some design concepts, answer my backlog of email, then go to bed.
Right after I eat some string cheese. One down, fifty-nine to go...
What a horrible day.
It's at times like this that I wish I had a secret anonymous blog so I could write about the utterly bizarre crap that I've been through. Though much of what happened is so messed-up that even I have trouble believing it's true... and I lived it. The up-side is that I'm utterly convinced that there is a Supreme Being in the universe now, because somebody has to be messing with me. There's no other possible explanation...
Because if life is truly this random, I want out.
I am not a candle person.
Which would put me firmly into the minority of the candle-loving masses who buy candles by the hundreds. Except I was given a nice candle recently (smells like pear!), so I thought I might as well spark it up so I have something good to smell while I work. Problem is, I couldn't find any way to light it.
My old lighter was empty. There's not a match to be found anywhere. I couldn't even get the flint in my car emergency kit to work. How sad is it that a grown man can't make fire? Just when I was about to pack it in and go live in a cave, I thought to go looking through my massive souvenir collection to see if I might have saved a matchbook from somewhere. Fortunately, I did have one that I snagged from a restaurant in Korea, so my quest for fire was at an end...
And there was fire, and the fire smelled good.
But something else sure stinks...
What is with all these stupid-ass commercials for the film Love in the Time of Cholera? If I were to write down all the movies that I would most NOT like to see, I'm pretty sure it would top my list right now. Don't get me wrong, if you like to watch weepy period romance dramas, more power to you, but I'd rather be kicked in the balls by Morten Andersen that sit through this crap. And the commercials are only making things worse.
I mean, Love in the Time of Cholera? Seriously?
Mmmmmm... I smell pears!
For a while there, most everybody I know was obsessed with The Secret. Apparently Oprah had endorsed the program, so it must be true.
This book basically tells you that you can have whatever you want if you believe with all certainty that it's already yours. Such thinking opens you up to the miraculous "Law of Attraction" which allows you to control the universe. Since that's my ultimate goal in life, I decided to set aside my feelings (namely, that The Secret is full of crap) and give it a try.
But what would I test it on?
I found an advertisement for a beautiful new residence tower being built in downtown Chicago called 50 East Chestnut. I decided that I would use The Secret to get myself a new home in the building. I ripped out the ad and posted it on my nightstand where I could see it every night as I went to sleep and every morning when I woke up...
Twice a day, morning and night, I would picture myself at 50 East Chestnut looking out over Chicago from my residence on the 24th floor. I totally owned it, and believed that the Law of Attraction would make it mine...
So here I am, exactly one month later, and I don't have a home at 50 East Chestnut on the 24th floor.
Oprah, that lying bitch.
Not that I'm surprised. If The Secret actually worked, then everybody would be living in mansions, driving Porsche convertibles, and rolling around naked in big piles of money with supermodels.
Maybe I was reaching too high? Perhaps if I used The Secret to attract a box of chocolate pudding I'd have better luck?
Chocolate pudding rules.
Most unproductive day ever.
Seriously. That time I had killer diarrhea and spent two days on the toilet was more productive. Even when I had kidney stones and was so doped up on pain-killers that I was hallucinating, I managed to get more work done. I'd go so far as to say that I managed to get more projects completed during a drunken weekend in Vegas where I spent 48 hours in bed with whores (a hooker's ass makes the perfect laptop stand when your hotel room doesn't have a desk*). I think the only way I could have got less work done today would be if I was in a coma.
I absolutely loathe unproductive days because all the work that didn't get done still has to happen sometime.
In this case, it'll probably be my weekend.
* Hookers make you pay extra for that, however.**
** And be aware that modern laptops generate a lot of heat, so it's best to use protection.***
*** Fortunately, there's a bible in most hotel night-stands which makes a terrific heat barrier and can guard against a burnt ass. Because, let's face it, nobody wants to take their hooker to the ER with scorched buttocks.****
**** Though a bible cannot protect against pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases, so you'll still need condoms.*****
***** Oh the irony...
WAAAAAAAAHHH!
Well, I've done gone and sliced my right-hand index finger reeeeeeal good. Twice. The cuts are pretty deep, and band-aids weren't helping much. I finally used super-glue and strips of gauze to close the cuts, then bandaged everything up with hopes that I wouldn't bleed to death.
So far, so good.
Except my finger hurts a lot. Which makes typing in my blog kind of clutzy and painful.
But drawing isn't so bad, because I can use my middle-finger to mouse-click*...
I am such a weenie when it comes to bleeding.
And pain.
Which is why I'm going to take a couple of Excedrin PM now so I can forget my pain and get some sleep. If you don't hear from me ever again, it's because the super-glue dissolved and I bled to death in my sleep. Oh well. I suppose there are worse ways to go.
*Even more importantly, I can also still use my middle-finger to flip people off.
It says a lot when I'm in a great city like Seattle, but am so tired after work that I can't manage to muster up the energy to do anything more than climb into bed after dinner. In fact, it was a monumental effort just to turn on my MacBook so I could blog this entry. Heaven only knows where I'll find the strength to turn on the television so I can watch Reaper tonight.
On the up-side, I'm depending on my exhaustion to provide me a decent night's sleep...
Goodnight.
I hope.
A couple of weeks ago, a sad realization hit me like a bitch-slap across the face... I'm finding it harder and harder to maintain a happy outlook on life. At first I couldn't figure it out. I seemed to be miserable for no good reason. But after taking a little "me-time," I finally decided that my life was badly out of balance...
What my life used to be about: Looking forward to the things I want to do.
What my life seems to be about now: Dreading the things I have to do.
Since then, I've been trying to put my life back in balance by forcing myself to make time for stuff I want to do. This, naturally, is much easier than it sounds, but it has the benefit of being cheaper than therapy.
The trick is trying to figure out what I want to do.
Unfortunately, it turns out that what I really want to do is drive one of those NASA moon buggies across the dunes of Mars in the first manned mission to the red planet.
Which means I'm pretty much screwed, because the odds of me going to Mars are fairly slim.
But I'm trying my best to compensate for it by doing other little things I think I might enjoy.
Tonight I bought myself a hot-fudge sundae for dessert, for example.
It's no trip to Mars, but it sure was tasty.
Why am I such a magnet for wrong numbers? I get them all the time on both my mobile and home phones. This morning I'm interrupted eating breakfast at 6:20am by a ringing phone. I rush into the living room so I can answer it, and am immediately greeted with a stream of unintelligible Spanish the minute I say hello. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG NUMBER," I yell, but that only gets me more high-volume rapid-fire Spanish I can't understand. Totally irate now, I scream "Wrong number! Número equivocado! Número equivocado! NÚMERO EQUIVOCADOOOOOOO!!!" and slam down the phone.
I fully believe that if you get a wrong number from somebody, you should have the option of punching a code into your phone and it will charge the stupid fucker $25 for the interruption. Sometimes, if the person is nice and apologetic, it doesn't bother me too much. But most of the time wrong numbers just piss me off because the callers are idiots and I wants to get paid.
Being able to shoot a gun through the phone at wrong-number-dialing ass-clowns would be okay too...
Blargh.
And now I have to pack my suitcase... well, two suitcases, actually... for my trip tomorrow.
Hopefully packing will tire me out and I'll be exhausted enough to finally get some sleep.
At which point I'm sure I'll be woken up by some moron who can't dial a phone number correctly.
The scary news out of Southern California is really messing with my head... inserting horrifying flashbacks into my brain from the two times I had to face a fire.
The first was around 15 years ago while I was living in Wenatchee. Fire was charging down the mountain towards my apartment complex, and I was running around with a garden hose putting out small fires on my roof and nearby shrubs. Eventually, I was forced to evacuate by the fire department, not knowing whether or not my home would be there when I got back. Turns out it was still there (though everything around it was burned up). I woke up in the middle of the night smelling smoke for years after.
The last time was just three years ago. Since I was blogging then, the experience was documented...
Though I once again escaped unscathed, it only added to my fire trauma. To this day, I still wake up smelling smoke and thinking that I'm in the middle of a fire every once in a while.
So when I see what Southern Californians are going through, I can totally sympathize. Been there. Done that. Twice.
Hmmm... guess I'll have to save that entry on spoons I was writing for another time... because right now I am desperately hoping I can get some sleep. Even if I have to self-medicate to get it.
Hopefully my dreams will be smoke-free.
For the first time in months, I've made it through an entire day without working. Instead I played games with friends, ate pizza, and sat on my ass watching television.
I could totally get used to this.
Alas, it's not to be. Tomorrow morning I head back home and spend all my Sunday working twice as hard so I can catch up from the day I missed. Life is harsh like that.
But, in the meanwhile, I'm planning on getting a good night's sleep. That would be another thing I haven't done in months...
Goodnight!
Today as I was driving home for a quick errand, I saw a guy standing in front of the bank at the center of town holding a sign that said SEEK PEACE AND PURSUE IT. "Well that's nice of him," I thought as I drove by. Peace is a good thing.
Returning to work I had a few minutes left, so I walked some packages over to the post office. Once I got there, I listened as two people in the lobby discussed the guy in front of the bank. This, in itself, was not surprising. I live in a small and highly conservative town, and an event like this is major news.
No, what was surprising is what they were saying.
They were discussing how "there was a time when any hippie protesters would have been run out of town."
The reason I found this surprising was because I assumed my hometown had always been a part of the United States of America, where freedom of expression reigns (or is supposed to, anyway). This is a valid assumption when you consider that Cashmere was incorporated in 1904, which is well after Washington became our 42nd state in 1889.
But I digress...
What really got me going was when the conversation turned bizarre.
They started discussing how things like this were going to become more and more common as more and more people abandoned God.
How predictable.
Not able to contain myself, I simply had to say something...
DAVE: Uhhh... the sign he was holding is a quote from The Bible.
MORON: What?
DAVE: The guy you're talking about was holding up a quote from The Bible... it's like a famous Psalm... "seek peace and pursue it."
MORON: (laughs)
DAVE: So he hasn't abandoned God, he's actually trying to get people to follow God's Word.
MORON: (laughing) Well I doubt that!!
DAVE: No, it's true. Maybe next time you go to church you can look it up.
The irony of my Buddhism-embracing self knowing The Bible better than many so-called Christians is not lost on me here... I'd just expect that anybody who was so quick to label a person as a godless hippie protester might have at least skimmed The Bible before passing such judgement.
Though, if they actually had studied The Bible, they might have picked up on that whole "judge not lest ye be judged" thing (which isn't actually a demand not to judge, but is instead an edict to not judge unfairly, which is exactly what was happening here).
Hey! I was right!
Ooh! Look at me! I'm blogging on my lunch break!
It seems everywhere I go, bloggers are making confessions. Kevin confesses to murder. Vahid confesses he has no idea what's going on in Burma. Dustin confesses his secret longing for a Mac. Amanda confesses she didn't have the brain she thought she did. Foo Diddy confesses she can't whistle or chew gum. And Ms. Sizzle confesses her undying love for me (though, to be honest, you really have to read between the lines on that one).
It's all a little intimidating, and I feel I really should be confessing something too.
So here we go...
I totally want to go to a Spice Girls concert on their new world tour...
Dave Spice says GIRL POWER!! Zigazig ha!
Don't ask me why, because even I don't know.
All I do know is that if I could get tickets and if I could squeeze it into my schedule, I would SO be there.
And in non-confessional news... thanks to everybody for their nice comments on my vlog entry yesterday. For anybody who's curious, here's a Vlogging FAQ...
And lastly, before I forget, everybody needs to go vote for Obi-Steven over at Kimberly's blog. I'd ask you to vote that she gets a web-feed as well, but I can't find a place to vote for that.
Bleh. I hate to shop, but had to drive into the city this afternoon so I could run some errands. Usually I would pick a week-day to avoid the crowds, but I didn't have any choice. What a mistake that turned out to be. The mall was frickin' nuts. By the time I got home, I was ready to beat my head against a wall, drink a fifth of vodka, take a handful of sleeping pills, and go into a nice relaxing coma.
In better news, tomorrow is my grandmother's 90th birthday! She's one of the best people I know, and I love her more than my iPhone!
Grandma helping me with my drinking skills during those early years.
Since my grandmother is a hardcore Seattle Mariners baseball fan, we thought it would be fun to surprise her with a Mariners decorated birthday cake. I printed out the Mariner's logo from their web site and gave it to my mother so she could have one made. When she ordered it, she handed over the logo and asked for "Happy Birthday" to be written across the bottom. Today she went to pick it up, and this is what we got...
Uhhhh... yeah. I suppose it wouldn't have been so awful if the entire cake wasn't all lopsided. Obviously, we couldn't serve something so heinous for such a special occasion, so we started making desperate phone calls to see if somebody could make us a new cake. That's when we found out that it's illegal for cake decorators to use copyrighted materials (like the Seattle Mariner's logo) to decorate their cakes. Oops.
So I decided for the bakery to just write "Happy Birthday" on the cake and put a border around it. Then I'd go ahead and add the logo myself. The problem is that none of the logos I found on the internet were of high enough resolution to print out for a cake. I thought somebody must have an EPS vector graphic online somewhere, but Googling turned up nothing. I finally gave up and just drew it myself. I tried to find a font to write "Seattle Mariners" around the logo, but couldn't find one that looked right. Ultimately I had to create my own typeface as well...
To make sure there would be no mistake with how we wanted the cake to look this time, here's what I handed over to the bakery...
Logo © ™ ® by the Seattle Mariners
I wrote a note asking them to please do everything except the logo since I'll be adding that myself. I pick up the cake tomorrow morning, so I guess we'll see what happens.
What's cool is that last week I found some officially licensed party supplies to match the cake...
Merchandise © ™ ® by the Seattle Mariners
What's not cool is how much money officially licensed party crap costs! TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS?!? I suppose that they have to pay those billion-dollar sports salaries somehow, but TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS?!? You'd think for that kind of money that the Party Pack would include an actual Seattle Mariner baseball player... or maybe even an Ichiro bobble-head... but you'd be wrong. All you get are plates, napkins, cups, and forks.
That's a pity, because an Ichiro bobble-head would have been totally sweet.
Given that I don't really blog about anything of actual substance in my life, all the interesting stuff that happened today can't be written about here. Suffice to say that in one day, everything I thought that was going to happen in my life for the next two months has been drastically altered. I'm still sorting through the pieces to determine if this is a good thing or a bad thing, because right now I just don't know. That's the way it goes.
At least that's what I keep telling myself.
Trying my best to roll with the punches, I cleared my evening so that I could attempt to put everything back together again. It was not a happy time, and it was most certainly not easy. And I think a few of the pieces fell in-between the couch cushions, because I can't see the big picture yet.
Life should be more like a Rubik's Cube than a jigsaw puzzle, because then you couldn't misplace any of the pieces...
And, more importantly, there's a formula that tells you how to solve it.
Oh well. I've done the best I can.
Though it's entirely possible that everything will change again tomorrow.
Or the next day.
One of the biggest disadvantages of working in a small town is an early Fed-Ex drop-off time. In bigger cities, you can get a fantastically late drop-off time of 8:00 even 9:00pm... but me? I've got until 3:30pm to get my stuff together. This makes working under a tight deadline really difficult, because I don't even get a full work-day to finish a job.
In an effort to get a jump on things, I got up at 4:30am and started right to work. This would give me plenty of time to finish my work before FedEx Guy shows up and ruins my day 11 hours later...
Me. Ready and waiting for the FedEx Guy.
So there I am, happily working along when... BAM!! The internet goes down. And I need the internet to get my work done.
Uh oh.
So much for getting a jump on things.
Long story short... I end up trippin' balls all afternoon, killing myself to make my 3:30 deadline once I have internet.
And tomorrow I do it all over as I attempt to get everything ready before flying out again.
Bleh.
I need a less-stressful life.
Or a fifth of tequila.
I need a less-stressful life AND a fifth of tequila.
UPDATE: OMG! Kitty Spangles Solitaire for Mac is on sale for just $11.95! ONE DAY ONLY, September 15th, 2007 over at MacUpdate. You can read about me going gay for Kitty here. Or you can read about me paying for Kitty's love here. Or even read how I made Kitty Spangles my bitch here. And, lastly, you can read about how Lil' Dave got revenge on Kitty's pet pig here. This solitaire game may not be the most macho game of cards around, but it's still my favorite. If you want to try before you buy, go get a demo at Swoop Software's site. Sweet!
Today I was getting aggravated with the file folders I use to sort my projects because my stuff keeps falling out of them. Then, in a flash of nostalgia, I remembered the Pee-Chee folders from my school days and decided that they were the perfect solution. So off I went to the school supply section of the local drug store, only to find out they don't have them. No problem, I'll just order them from Staples. Except Staples doesn't have them. So then I look on Wikipedia to see if I remembered the name wrong or something, only to find out that they don't make Pee-Chees anymore!
WTF?!?
How old am I?
Apparently, really old. High school was 23 years ago, and somewhere in that massive span of time they stopped making Pee-Chees!
What in the heck do school kids use to carry their papers now-a-days?
More importantly, what in the heck do they use to write cool graffiti on? When I was in school, everybody plastered their Pee-Chees with nifty stickers and decorated them using multi-color markers to write the names of their favorite bands and stuff. Mine was covered in cartoons I would draw when I was bored.
Which was most of the time.
Photo swiped from the always-excellent Maxim Magazine.
As I'm typing this, Padma Lakshmi is being her usual scorching-hot self on the latest episode of Top Chef. The big challenge this time is one of the coolest I've ever seen on the show... airplane food! I really like how this season they are being so creative in the challenges and toning down the stupid-ass drama that plagued last year. Of course, then they invite Anthony Bourdain to be a guest-judge, where he's his usual cheerful and supportive self. He must be a scream at parties.
For my dinner, I was a bit of a Top-Chef myself, making my own pizza sauce for the first time. I saved up all my dairy allowance for the day so I could make pizza on toasted rice flour bread. It was surprisingly tasty. I should totally be on Top Chef next season!
UPDATE: My Pee-Chee obsession drove me to Google searches where I've found others lamenting the passing of the Pee-Chee...
Blue Flavor says that MySpace is the Modern Day Pee-Chee.
A nice Evolution of the Pee-Chee is over at CreativePro.
Defective Yeti with a tale of Pee-Chee customization gone wrong.
Some memories are precious and meant to be treasured. Other memories you wish you could gouge from your head with a melon-baller.
Such as the remembrance of being sick for a week.
Today I made a valiant effort to purge my home of every disease-ridden memory from those dark times. Like a man possessed, I tore through room after room... eradicating all evidence of the plague that had come down upon my house.
In other words, I washed the sheets on my bed.
Good times.
And even better times are ahead, because in two weeks it's the L.A. blogger meet! I've sent out information to those who had asked me about it, and so if you were interested and didn't get an email please let me know by emailing me at dave@blogography.com. Hopefully I'll hear back from everybody soon so I can make reservations on Monday night.
And now I'm off to bed so I can continue going through the travel book 1000 Places To See Before You Die so I can check off those places I've been and figure out places I'd like to go.
Though I still like my idea of a "To Do Before You Die List" best.
Except for the fact that I'm coughing my head off at random intervals for no apparent reason, and still feel tired all the time, I'm finally kinda back to normal.
Except for these bizarre food cravings I keep having. Out of nowhere I'll suddenly be dying for some random food... like saltwater taffy... or beef jerky... or a fifth of Jack Daniels. Or, more likely, a fifth of Jack Daniels with saltwater taffy and beef jerky. It doesn't make any sense. I mean, saltwater taffy sticks to your teeth, I don't eat meat, and my alcohol of choice is Jägermeister. So why?
The answer is simple.
I didn't survive my sickness. It killed me. I died.
AND NOW I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD AND CRAVING HUMAN FLESH!
Well, not really human flesh, but I sure could go for a donut. A Dunkin' Donut with pink frosting...
A pity that there's no Dunkin' Donuts anywhere in Washington State.
I guess I'll just have to settle for that fifth of Jack Daniels.
And now, because I was recovering yesterday and didn't feel like writing...
And, before I forget, since I've been emailed about it a dozen times...
The only question now is... what will I spend my $100 in Apple-money on?
Hey. Wait a second...
DAMN YOU STEVE JOBS AND YOUR BRILLIANT $100 APPLE STORE CREDIT PLAN TO ROB ME OF SIXTEEN-THOUSAND-SIX-HUNDRED-AND-SIXTEEN DOLLARS OF MY HARD-EARNED MONEY!!
=sob!=
If it's even possible, I think I love Steve Jobs even more than I did yesterday... that evil genius bastard.
A much better day.
Though I am now so far behind in work, email, blogs, comments, and life in general that I am starting to feel sick again. Life can be so ironic sometimes.
I made the mistake of going to work today when I clearly wasn't ready to do so. I lasted until 3:30, which made me kind of an inspiration to myself, because I very nearly passed out around 2:00.
There I was, minding my own business, when all of a sudden I felt the world whipping around me in a kind of vertigo-like frenzy. It was much like drinking a fifth of tequila, but without the salt, lime, or hangover. Normally this would be a good thing, but the attack was so sudden that I instinctively tried to steady myself... even though I wasn't actually moving. This caused me to fall out of my chair, which is when I almost passed out. Probably from confusion.
The strange thing is that after a few minutes I felt better than I have in days. This had me wondering if I wasn't sick but, in fact, possessed, and an evil spirit had just left my body. But then I was feeling all nauseous and run-down and figured probably not. So at 3:30 I ran back home so I could take a four-hour nap.
But that was four hours ago, so now I'm ready for bed.
Again.
The good news is that all my symptoms seem to be subsiding a little more each day. By my calculations, this means I should be back to tip-top shape sometime in late February, 2008.
Being sick sucks serious ass.
As somebody who has been a chronic insomniac for the better part of a decade, being sick this past weekend has opened up an entirely new door to me: that of a full-night's sleep.
And a full-day's sleep as well.
I've been doing pretty much nothing but sleeping for the past three days. And, given that I usually average a measly 4-5 hours per night, this is an unfamiliar situation to me. Absolutely nothing got done this weekend. Not even any work, which is going to make for a painful week since I was already several days behind.
Assuming I can even make it to work in the morning.
Whatever bug I have is totally kicking my ass. Though today I did start eating again, so I'm interpreting this as a sign that I'm on the road back to health.
Now what I really need is a shower... and a box of Cracker Jacks.
Don't ask me why, they just sound good.
I thought it would turn out to be a cold or whatever, but that's not the case. If it's not the ebola virus or the bubonic plague... maybe it's the flu or something. It's pretty frickin' miserable to be me just now. I may not be dead, but I am almost to the point of wishing I were...
It's at times like this that I realize just how much I take some things for granted... like being able to sit upright without falling over. Or being able to turn my head without feeling like my neck is going to snap off. Or being able to stand up to pee.
Some holiday weekend this turned out to be.
It's 9:00pm and I'm already in bed. DYING!!!
I think I'm coming down with something. Perhaps the ebola virus or the Black Death or whatever other plague-like horror is in fashion these days.
It all started this morning when I awoke in a haze, not feeling myself at all. It was kind of like my mind was off sitting on a shelf somewhere, and my body was moving around all independent and zombie-like. Such as when I found myself standing in the shower trying to remember if I had already shampooed my head or not, then deciding to shampoo anyway just in case. Everything went downhill from there. I think the worst part was when I stopped at a stop sign on the way to work and then forgot how to drive my car for a minute. By the time I remembered how to engage the clutch, I forgot where I was going and how I got there. At first I thought that this was a good excuse to go eat ice cream, but then a vague recollection of having to go to work floated across my mind, ruining an already bad moment.
It must be time for some... oh crap... I just remembered that I dropped an Airborne tablet in a glass of water a half hour ago and forgot to drink it.
Excuse me for a minute...
Well that tasted lovely. Kind of like a cross between 7-Up and battery acid, I'd imagine. I wonder if Airborne can cure an ebola virus outbreak? Hmmmm... probably not. I would think you'd need Pepto Bismol for that. Pepto Bismol can cure anything.
One last thing before I go... if I should happen to actually die from this, please everybody remember to follow my last wishes as to how I want to be buried. Thanks!
Technorati Tags: Sickness, Pepto Bismol
Why is it considered "cute" if a cartoon penguin pulls out a gun and threatens to shoot somebody... but if I were to do that I'd probably end up arrested?
Feathers McGraw from Wallace & Gromit in The Wrong Trousers
I need a Davecation.
Technorati Tags: Feathers McGraw
"No. No. No. No. Nooooo..." I said quietly to myself, hoping the mantra would offer some protection... perhaps by rendering me invisible or causing the bitch to go temporarily blind.
For the most part, I am a pretty social guy. But there are a few people that I just don't want to socialize with. Ever. One such person crossed my path quite unexpectedly as I was heading to the bakery for a donut with chocolate frosting and sprinkles on top...
"Hey Dave!" she squeals.
"Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill meeeee..." I scream in my head.
Alas, no heart attack or drive-by shooting interceded, and I was forced into a conversation about inconsequential crap with somebody I despise. Ordinarily I'd feel bad about it, but she hates me enough to have screwed me over (alas not literally) on a couple occasions, so I don't.
The fun part is that she doesn't know that I know. So I have to play nice in public.
Errrr... unless she reads my blog.
In which case I hope she leaves me a comment letting me know, so that I can stop pretending to be nice in public.
Which sucks.
Karma's pendulum of fate swung back in my favor, however, when I got to the bakery and snagged the very last donut with chocolate frosting and sprinkles on top.
Proving that life is okay every once in a while.
Technorati Tags: Life, Donuts, Bitches
So there I was minding my own business, trying to decide which flavor of popsicle I wanted for dinner last night, when my mobile started ringing. This made me happy, because iPhone is still new enough that it's funky maramba ringtone gives me a shudder of delight whenever I hear it.
At least until I look and see that it's a "Number Blocked" call, at which time I have to decide whether or not I am going to answer it. Odds are, it's going to be a wrong number or somebody I don't want to talk to, otherwise they're number would be in my phone. Seeing that the only flavor of popsicle left is dreaded CHERRY, I close the freezer door and answer the call...
DAVE: "Hello?"
GUY: "Hey, did you lose your bag?"
DAVE: "Huh?" I say, looking over at my backpack on the kitchen table.
GUY: "I found this bag and there's no name in it... just this number on a paper. Is it yours?"
DAVE: "Ah. No, my bag is here with me. Where did you find it? What's it look like?"
GUY: (describes bag and location)
DAVE: "Sorry, I don't know anybody who has a bag like that. What's in it?
GUY: "Uhhh... like a sports bra type-thing, socks, ladies running shoes, and..."
DAVE: "Wait a second... you thought this bag was MINE?"
GUY: "Hey, I don't know what stuff you're into..."
As I stood there with what's left of my manhood fleeing the scene, the guy says "this six could be a zero" and hangs up. I then start thinking of any attractive lady joggers I might have given my number to, realize I haven't given my number to a woman in years, then open up the freezer and grab a cherry popsicle I know I won't enjoy.
Somehow it seemed appropriate.
In other news, I finally caught up on my television tonight.
Isn't Gabrielle Anwar totally scrumptrellescent in Burn Notice?
For those not watching one of my favorite shows on television, Burn Notice is kind of like a dirtier version of MacGyver with more guns and overall nastiness. And it's got Gabrielle Anwar playing ex-IRA operative Fiona Glenanne, which is really all you need to know. What's amazing about her character is that she's totally raw, wears minimal makeup, and looks kinda rough. But she still manages to come off totally hot...
It must be the way she kicks ass and is always wanting to shoot everybody.
Or, more likely it's her body, which is fantastic. I would totally give her my number. Lucky for all of us that Burn Notice has been given a 13-episode second season order. Thank you USA Network!
Now I must get back to work.
And decide if I want to eat the last yucky cherry popsicle.
=sigh=
Technorati Tags: Burn Notice, Gabrielle Anwar, Popsicles, Wrong Numbers
Well crap. Mike Wieringo has died.
I'm a regular reader of his blog, and loved the way he treated his fans to numerous sketches and drawings on a regular basis. So imagine my shock and sadness when today's entry was a notice that Mike had passed away.
I realize that 99% of people are going to be saying "Mike Wier-who?!?" and have no idea who he is, but to comic book fans, this is a crushing blow. Mike Wieringo was an incredibly gifted artist who I envied on just about every possible level for his talent. If I were to describe his drawing style, I think "economical" sums it up nicely. The guy had this uncanny ability to use just the exact amount of line-work necessary in his art, and was never compelled to scribble in anything unneeded to camouflage his shortcomings... mainly because he didn't have any shortcomings. This stylistic approach gave him a beautifully clean style of drawing, which he enhanced with an exaggerated perspective that made everything he drew leap off the page...
Mike's Art for Fantastic Four #509
My favorite work by Wieringo was his collaboration with Mark Waid on The Fantastic Four. I treasured every issue they worked on, and consider their run to be among the best FF stories ever made... right up there with the Lee/Kirby originals. I've re-read my trade paperback collections of those issues numerous times, and it is never lost on me just how much humor, imagination, and humanity that Wieringo managed to inject into those stories. Boy will he be missed.
I'm feeling lazy, so it must be time for... One Sentence Commentary!
The new iMacs... Sublimely beautiful, fairly powerful, and ultimately well thought-out.
The new Apple keyboard... Initially confusing, ultimately delicious... I love mine!
Karl Rove is retiring... Good riddance, you evil fucker.
John From Cincinnati cancelled... Did anybody like this horrible mess of a show?*
Merv Griffin dies... "So I came to Europe to kill... and it's really worked out very well for me!"
SCO doesn't own Unix... Sucks to be you, losers!
Ta dah!
Ugh. I am really, really behind in my blog reading. And my email. And my work. And my comics. And my television shows (BURN NOTICE!!). And my snail-mail. And my laundry. And my life, I guess. Where does the time go?
*And wasn't that like the WORST season-ending episode ever? I still think that John Monad was actually Shaun Yost from an alternate-reality future with a scrambled brain, but that's just the comic book geek in me talking.
Technorati Tags: Mike Wieringo, Comic Books, iMac, Karl Rove, Merv Griffin, SCO
Who is the sadistic bastard responsible for designing the air conditioning in cars?
As I was driving back over to the coast in the heat, I noticed that my air conditioner has four fan settings: dead air, light draft, wimpy breeze, and HURRICANE ASSAULT!! And then I started thinking back to the cars I've owned, the cars I've rented... basically every car I've ever driven... and realized that they were all the same. For some reason, they skip 2 or 3 steps before you get to "HI" which means you either bake or freeze...
I spent most of the trip trying to come up with that magic combination of fan speed and temperature that would make me comfortable, but never managed to find it.
Eventually I shut the thing off and just rolled down the window.
Technorati Tags: Cars
Last night proved to be a productive evening for work, but a disastrous evening for catching up on sleep. The hotel was packed and people were slamming doors, running up and down the halls, and being overall obnoxious well past 2:00am. I remain dumbfounded as to why people act like such inconsiderate assholes at hotels... I am paying money so I can get some SLEEP!
After dragging my exhausted ass out of bed, I was heading back to work when a parking enforcement scooter went zipping by me, lights blaring. At first, I was curious as to what would constitute a parking emergency, but all that vanished once I saw the model name of the vehicle...
INTERCEPTOR?!? At what point has anybody ever needed to "intercept" a PARKED CAR? The first laugh of the day is always the sweetest.
Lunch, no surprise, was once again an orgasm-inducing pizza experience at David's. This time I tried a new photo composition, laying the Stewart's Orange Cream Soda on its side and flipping the pizza 180°. No matter how you shoot it, it still tastes amazing...
After lunch I had some free time, so I stopped by The Comic Book Shop to see what's new. Nothing could prepare me for what I found there...
ESSENTIAL DAZZLER?!? Dazzler? Seriously? I always thought that the character started out as a joke. A sad attempt to capitalize on the fading popularity of disco music at a time when disco backlash was gaining momentum. Redemption finally came when Jim Shooter retooled Dazzler in the now infamous Marvel Graphic Novel #12... "Dazzler: The Movie." Outed as a mutant and unemployable as a singer, Dazzler finally came into her own and ultimately joined up with The X-Men in a series of fairly good stories. By the time she ended up with my favorite Marvel character, Longshot, I actually ended up liking her a bit (she was, after all, one of the few people to escape disco alive). I was afraid to even touch Essential Dazzler out of fear that I would have disco flashbacks and go insane.
After work, the three-hour drive home was uneventful, as usual.
But when I got there, my new toy was waiting for me... an ION iTTUSB 05 USB Turntable!
It's kind of weak in construction... just a big heap of lightweight plastic... but for $99, I'm not complaining. The important thing is that it actually works. The included Mac/Windows "Audacity" software isn't very intuitive (and only rips into WAV format), but I did manage to rip a few of my vinyl albums and 12-inch maxi-singles with decent results. I am most pleased. Now all I have to do is find the time to rip my entire collection, and I'll finally be able to have the last bit of my music in digital format. Sweet!
Well, it's now 10:15 and my DVD of Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle just ended (how frickin' hilarious was Neil Patrick Harris in that flick?), so I'm off to bed early.
Hopefully to get some sleep this time.
Technorati Tags: Dazzler, Comics, Vinyl, Pizza, Hotels, Douchebags