Convolution 2

Nice to see that people are making some serious Ansari X prize headway. I only hope that one group taking what appears to be a pretty commanding lead doesn't dissuade the other two dozen-ish teams.

I just bought a little Canon printer/scanner/copier. I like both it, and the several extra feet of desk space I will be able to squeeze out of this room with the old Fahrvergnügen-sized scanner out of the way. It's in D's desk anyway, but that in no way diminishes my pleasure at the thought.

My parents will be in over the weekend. If you live in the area, expect the possibility of porch drinks one night, although it may be a bit chilly for that.

Speaking of drinks, I have discovered two more beers I enjoy besides Guinness: Tecate and Shiner Bock. I hang my head in mock shame at having succumbed to such base temptations.

For those of you who care, I am back to working hardcore on LFM, after some subtle prodding from the power that be.

Currently listening to: "Mr. Tugboat Hello", Sophie B. Hawkins

Convolution

Last night, I was hanging out with D. and somehow we got on the topic of a few dreams I had experienced the night before. It's (almost) worth mentioning that a.) I never remember having had dreams, b.) much less what they were about, and if I get that far, c.) they vanish a few moments after I wake up. This one has almost entirely vanished, but I do remember that she was in it, and Anthony Hopkins was her dad or boss, and had sent a couple of thugs to whack either her or me or both.

Anyway...

It occurred to me that within probably twenty years, they will have a method by which to record your dreams while you sleep. Within a year of that, the hottest thing going will be live broadcasts of dreams over the internet, or whatever passes for it by then. Dreamcasting will be the new pr0n.

You heard it here first.

We just spent the evening in the presidential suite of one of the local casinos, having drinks with friends of hers who are regulars in the restaurant she manages. They are exceptionally cool people, normal like you or...you, who happened to hit it very big one day at said casino, and now they basically live however they please. Despite this, they kept their jobs until it was time for them to retire (as they are of that retiring age), which makes me like them all the more. Anyway, they are super-nice people who are very down to earth, yet appreciate the value of just having a good time. Hats off to them. Also, one of the suite's three flat panel televisions was in the bathroom, aimed towards the jacuzzi-sized bathtub, which is nice if you like that sort of thing.

At one point, they casually (and by casually, I really mean casually, not "managed to slip it into the conversation", because they are not like that) mentioned how much money they had lost in casinos between Tahoe and here since August 1st, and I shall simply say that it is roughly what I make in a year. Later, she mentioned how much she had won at a slot machine earlier, and it was about 1.5 times what I make in a year, so don't start asking where to send the donations just yet.

One week until the Pixies show in Columbia. w00t, I say.

Currently listening to: "Territorial Pissings", Nirvana

Time Flies When You're Having...

...eighty hour work weeks.

Not that I am these days, not really.

Anyway, it occurred to me earlier today that a couple of Thursdays ago (the 9th, so you don't have to do the math) marked two years from my first day at the Simutronics home office. Doesn't seem like it's been that long, yet at the same time, it seems like this is where I've always been. I guess that means I'm fairly comfortable. This isn't what I saw myself doing even a few years ago.

At various times in my life, I've wanted to be a rock star, a corporate CEO, a theoretical physicist, a teacher, a graphic designer, and probably a ninja. Of all of those, I probably came closest to the physicist gig, as that's what my almost-degree is in. Maybe I'll pop back and finish that one day. For now, though, I enjoy what I'm doing. It's mentally challenging, and downright stressful at times, but I know I'd get bored with something that wasn't. Plus, it's just cool to hear people say, "You do what for a living?"

My biggest regret with the transition so far is that I miss talking to my rogues all the time...there's just no time left in the day for perusing the GemStone IV forums or messing around in the game. Hopefully time constraints will ease up one day, or they'll all come play the new game. In the meantime, just know that you guys are the bomb-diggity, as Ratboy would say.

Shut up, I have it logged. :p

No, dude, your mom.

In other news, this dinner of leftover pork fried rice, M&Ms, and Dew probably goes a long way towards explaining why I'm getting all fat. Well, not fat, fat, but fat-for-me fat. I need to knock it off, especially the Dew, but I'm too lazy to make coffee in the morning, and I can't drink water right when I wake up - it's just viciously bland - so I always wake up with Dew. That'll be a hard habit to kick.

Currently listening to: "Touch of Grey", Grateful Dead

And Then There Was One

R.I.P., Johnny Ramone.

Window Spider Buddy, Part 2

I checked on my little friend last night, who is apparently more or less nocturnal, and I seem to have called just before he sat down to dinner. When a moth hits his web, he moves fast. Fast in the sort of way I don't like to think of spiders as moving. You can see the unlucky moth in question being munched on.







I think all of this photographing is helping me get over my strong aversion to spiders. At least the ones trapped in windows. I'd still shriek like a girl if one jumped on me or something.

Currently listening to: "Sugar Free Jazz", Soul Coughing

Once Upon A Waste Of Time

Also, last night, Denise and I saw Once Upon a Time in Mexico. I had heard of it, and knew it had Antonio Banderas, but somehow didn't realize it was a sequel to Desperado. If I had, I may have tried to talk her out of it.

Anyway, it was pretty much crap in my opinion, but I was running on a total of 10 hours of sleep for the week thus far, and really just wanted to pass out.

I will note that Eva Mendes is pretty hot, despite being in some of the stupidest movies ever. Also, I would like a Clash of the Titans lunchbox as used in the film. Preferably with the $10,000 in it as well.

Currently listening to: "Kick Out the Jams", Presidents of the United States of America

Window Spider Buddy

Denise was out of town for the first half of the week, so I was looking for ways to entertain myself. Monday night, I was outside, and noticed that one of the windows of my home office/studio is home to a particularly large spider. I knew it lived there, I just didn't realize how big it had gotten. There was a crane fly (which is the real name of those "Bugs who go into your house to die", Sid...I found that out just for you) trapped between the window panes. He wasn't getting caught in the web, but he would bump into it every so often while trying to find a way out or in, and it would send this spider into a momentary frenzy which was pretty amusing to behold.

After a few minutes of this, I decided to get all nature photographer and try and get a good picture of my newfound spider buddy, since, hell, the thing is way too big now to get out of the window, so I really don't mind it. It's like having a little two-dimensional terrarium comprised of exactly one spider and his past and future meals.

Unfortunately, it was quite dark outside, so I had to turn off all the lights inside, raise the window blinds (another reason I really don't mind this guy: I never really have to see him unless I want to), and try to spotlight him with my Mini-Maglite. I felt like some sort of digital photography mercenary, holding a camera in one hand and a flashlight in the other, in exactly the way that Doom 3 doesn't let you. Of course, I probably looked like a total ass to my neighbors, but that's cool.

As it turns out, my hands are not really steady enough to take a non-blurry picture with a slow shutter speed in relative darkness, so I eventually broke out the tripod, and set it up in front of the window like a man prepared to do some serious surveillance work. You know, like a stalker or something. This worked out a little better for picture clarity, but spiders apparently dislike having a flashlight shined in their eyes, perhaps because of the multitude thereof. He (or she, but I choose to think it's a he, 'cause there may otherwise be babies in there one day) would tolerate it for about 0.2 seconds, before skittering elsewhere in his web, away from the horrible burning electronic torch. Every time he did this, I would have to adjust the tripod, so it became less like "interesting" and more like "trouble" pretty soon. I did eventually get a few, though. Click on either for a slightly larger version.



...and from a bit farther back, so you can see the scale by the window frame...



All of which goes to prove that it's possible to say far too much about far too little.

In the middle of all of this (the picture taking, not the writing), Sid called, I think to make fun of me and compel me to have a drink, before hanging up on me.

Currently listening to: Mike and Steph talking about camping

Everyone Annoys Me Equally

Josh and Sara came over last night and had adult beverages on the front porch with us, which was a good time, except that Josh was being responsible because he was driving. That's a good thing, don't get me wrong, but Josh is a Funny Motherfucker™ when he gets drunk, so I felt like I missed out on something. Also, towards the end of the evening, I saw my newest neighbor, a middle-aged woman by name of Sue, going into her house. She paused on her porch for a moment, and I waved the wave of the enthusiastic drunk, despite being only pleasantly buzzed. Denise yelled over for her to come by for a beer, and she and her friend Tom did so.

All was well and good until I was animatedly telling a story about the first time I mowed the yard this year. The grass was pretty high (okay, really high), and my neighborhood bunnies had taken quite a shine to it. As I followed my lawnmower in ever-tightening circles around the yard, I would occasionally see disturbances in the grass, moving on trajectories away from my weapon of grass destruction*. I knew, of course, that these disturbances were terrified bunnies. Faced with the unpleasant decision of either being near 5.5hp of whirling roaring death, and coming out into the open where I had already mowed, the bunnies simply moved as far away from the lawnmower as they could, while remaining relatively hidden. Several times, I had to stop and scout ahead, shooing them out of my path. They were teeny little bunnies, cute and quivery, and I felt bad for them, but also did not want to be evicted.

Finally, I was left with a square of uncut grass perhaps ten feet on a side and full of these cute and quivery bunnies. I knew by now that they had no intention of leaving their knee-high shelter, and I would not be able to live with myself if I mowed over a bunny, so I moved the mower off to the side and began hunting wabbits, as it were. I had a rough idea (or so I thought) of how many bunnies I was looking for, so I figured I would just scare them all out, and they would run to the shelter afforded by the neighbor's shed, or perhaps just go home to their rabbit hole. I described this portion of the story as, "So I go wading into this tall grass full of bunnies like I'm in the jungle looking for Charlie, and eventually I scare out about five rabbits, who all take off running." Or something like that. I thought nothing of it, but Sue said, "Well, that was pretty racist." I've been called a lot of things before, but never a racist. I didn't even realize what she was talking about at first. I've never thought of Charlie as a racist term, anymore than I would blink at someone talking about the Nazis or the Legionnaires. Now granted, calling someone a Nazi is pretty serious, or was until Seinfeld desensitized it. However, the term is historically correct. If I had said I was going through the underbrush "looking for chinks" or "gooks", I could understand, but I would of course not say that.

I don't even know if she was serious. She didn't exactly jump up in an outrage and leave, and invited us to drop by at Christmas for dinner (which is a little funny if you think about it - I don't think people even have decorations up yet). Nevertheless, it had me a bit upset last night, and still today. I'm not a people person by any means; most of you annoy me to some extent. However, it has nothing to do with where you're from, how you look, or your sexual or political orientation.

After I thought about it a while, I'm not concerned that I was being racist. Racism isn't vernacular, it's intent and attitude. But I'm curious, is that term generally considered to be racist?

In other news, it's 10 pm on Saturday night of a three-day weekend, and I'm at the office working. I suck.

* I just this very moment made that up, and I'm pretty proud of it.

Currently listening to: "Burning Inside", Ministry