Today I was flipping through on of those free real-estate listings for the bay area. Ridiculous.
My calculations tell me that for a really cheap house located someplace not very nice, I'd have a mortgage payment upwards of $4000 a month. Prices aren't going up, so it's not a very good investment in that regard, and even if I could afford $2000 a month, I can't rent the other bedroom for the other $2000 a month. The market simply has to crash. Or at least deflate a little. Nobody's going to pay $500,000 to get murdered every 6 seconds.
One of my coworkers is going to sell his house in Richmond. He figures that after a little spiffing up it'll fetch around $500,000. Why is he selling his house? There's a bullet mark in his work van. A guy tried to rob a small nursing home next door with knife, but one of the people running the home had a gun. Knife man got shot, and gun man got stabbed, and they both went to the hospital. And on the corner of his street somebody got shot and didn't make it to the hospital.
Makes trailer parks look down right appealing.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
Reach Out and Tush Someone
First off, let me just say hooray for wrong numbers. (Not really.) I was right in the middle of going to the bathroom this weekend when my phone started to ring. I had apparently been eating well because my initial doubt about reaching the phone before the answering machine picked up was exchanged for a hearty "good job, Ass!" and a leap toward my living room, pants clutched up in front, ass hanging out the back. (It's hard to run like that.) I picked up the phone at ring three and a half, and in response to my hello got a, "Nwin shwee foo twan nah?"
"Sorry?"
"Nwin shwee foo twan nah?"
"Oh," I said, pants sagging a little with disappointment, "I think you have the wrong number."
"Oh. Sorry. Bye."
And speaking of communicating with strangers, I've sent out another email on The Onion Personals. I'm really hoping I get a reply, though my batting average thus far is something along the lines of 0%. Generally I wait for girls to contact me, and to that end I'm experimenting with this as my picture:
So far it hasn't worked. I'm going to need to go on a photo shoot.
But as I sent the email there was a little blurb in the instructions that says specifically not to solicit the person to which you're sending a message to send you email outside the personals system. Are you supposed to communicate back and forth for money until you finally meet for the first time and only exchange email addresses in person? They can't be serious.
So keep your collective fingers crossed for me. Hopefully she'll write back and I won't get kicked off the system for offering her my email address.
First off, let me just say hooray for wrong numbers. (Not really.) I was right in the middle of going to the bathroom this weekend when my phone started to ring. I had apparently been eating well because my initial doubt about reaching the phone before the answering machine picked up was exchanged for a hearty "good job, Ass!" and a leap toward my living room, pants clutched up in front, ass hanging out the back. (It's hard to run like that.) I picked up the phone at ring three and a half, and in response to my hello got a, "Nwin shwee foo twan nah?"
"Sorry?"
"Nwin shwee foo twan nah?"
"Oh," I said, pants sagging a little with disappointment, "I think you have the wrong number."
"Oh. Sorry. Bye."
And speaking of communicating with strangers, I've sent out another email on The Onion Personals. I'm really hoping I get a reply, though my batting average thus far is something along the lines of 0%. Generally I wait for girls to contact me, and to that end I'm experimenting with this as my picture:
So far it hasn't worked. I'm going to need to go on a photo shoot.
But as I sent the email there was a little blurb in the instructions that says specifically not to solicit the person to which you're sending a message to send you email outside the personals system. Are you supposed to communicate back and forth for money until you finally meet for the first time and only exchange email addresses in person? They can't be serious.
So keep your collective fingers crossed for me. Hopefully she'll write back and I won't get kicked off the system for offering her my email address.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Friendly Neighbors
Today, while walking back from the mall, I found a note on my car that said, "move your car it been theair a week."
I'm not entirely sure if it's actually an "a" in theair. It could be theetir, or therir.
One way or the other, it's only been there since Monday night. I'm a full day short of it being there a week. And who cares? I'm in a perfectly legal parking place. Jerks.
Today, while walking back from the mall, I found a note on my car that said, "move your car it been theair a week."
I'm not entirely sure if it's actually an "a" in theair. It could be theetir, or therir.
One way or the other, it's only been there since Monday night. I'm a full day short of it being there a week. And who cares? I'm in a perfectly legal parking place. Jerks.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
The Cure
I've discovered a sure fire way to avoid my massive headaches! Or at the very least I've avoided a massive headache twice with this particular remedy.
When the headache rears it's ugly ... um, head, which is usually in the late after noon or early evening, I slow its course with a steady stream of water and continue this throughout the evening.
When I get home I take 3 Advil and drink (this seems to be the important bit) a 23.5 oz can of Arizona Green Tea. (What a weird size for a can.) When I've had other massive headaches I've varied the number of Advil and stuck with the water, but they always get really nasty as bedtime approaches. The green tea seems to be the key.
My theory is that it contains the perfect amount of caffeine. Not so much that it'll give me the runs, but just enough to make my head feel ok. (Too much information?)
I'm not sure this would work for anyone else. Generally a 23.5 oz green tea is all the caffeine I've had in my system for days and days. So I can be sure of the dosage.
And no, it's not the green tea's fault that I'm up at midnight. It's pub quiz's fault. We, Cheese Quiz, came in 2nd. Unfortunately another team also came in second, and two teams came in first, so in reality we came in 3rd or 4th, depending on your point of view.
Speaking of bedtime ...
I've discovered a sure fire way to avoid my massive headaches! Or at the very least I've avoided a massive headache twice with this particular remedy.
When the headache rears it's ugly ... um, head, which is usually in the late after noon or early evening, I slow its course with a steady stream of water and continue this throughout the evening.
When I get home I take 3 Advil and drink (this seems to be the important bit) a 23.5 oz can of Arizona Green Tea. (What a weird size for a can.) When I've had other massive headaches I've varied the number of Advil and stuck with the water, but they always get really nasty as bedtime approaches. The green tea seems to be the key.
My theory is that it contains the perfect amount of caffeine. Not so much that it'll give me the runs, but just enough to make my head feel ok. (Too much information?)
I'm not sure this would work for anyone else. Generally a 23.5 oz green tea is all the caffeine I've had in my system for days and days. So I can be sure of the dosage.
And no, it's not the green tea's fault that I'm up at midnight. It's pub quiz's fault. We, Cheese Quiz, came in 2nd. Unfortunately another team also came in second, and two teams came in first, so in reality we came in 3rd or 4th, depending on your point of view.
Speaking of bedtime ...
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Helpers
Today I delivered three bed frames, and had to dismantle another. The one I dismantled was a strange spring and pulley design circa 1986, and it took me a half hour just to figure out how to START taking it apart. And let me just take a moment here to thank technology for creating better, smaller, and most importantly, lighter stuff. The portion of the 80's frame with the motors on it was nearly the same weight as Greenland. Luckily I had a helper.
My helper's name was Bill, and I'd guess he was 3. When I was bringing my bed frame into the house (it comes in 5 pieces: Head, foot, knee, back, rails), he would announce each new piece as I came through the door. And each time I would step outside he would announce that as well. At least I think that's what he was doing.
He seemed to have his own little toddler language. When I walked up the stairs with the headboard he said, "Orph mas displader!" To which I replied, "Yep, it's a brand new bed." "Brand new bed!" he confirmed. He did this over and over. He'd say something in his native baby tongue, and I say something uninteresting like, "Yep, it comes in five pieces. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5." Then he would magically regain his command of the English language and perfectly repeat the phrase, "Five pieces."
After I had my frame unloaded Bill decided he should go help get grandma out of her ancient hospital bed. Bill's mom was using a Hoyer lift* to accomplish this, and Bill was a little over eager to pump the lift up to full height. His mom kept having to ask him to wait.
I stepped outside the bedroom until grandma was safely in the chair. (I like to wait out of eye-shot of the lifting process in case the patient is wearing something risqué, like just the plastic ring around their waist where the diaper used to be.) Grandma having been successfully transferred, Bill wandered out of the room, affected the most causal pose a 3 year old can affect, and asked, "how you doing?"
"Good," I replied, thinking that he had maybe watched too many episodes of Friends. "How you doing?"
"I'm doing cool," replied Bill, and went down stairs to color.
When I finished constructing my bed frame and was ready to take the old one down to the garage, Bill reappeared to help. His first inclination was to lift up the portion of bed which weighed 2 or 3 times what he did. I took that section instead and handed him the controller handset, which he was overjoyed to bring down stairs. As we hefted our loads down to the garage I complimented him on the amoeba he had drawn on his forehead while he was coloring. His mom was also impressed with his handiwork.
My final delivery of the day was another bed frame to a facility in San Francisco. I usually have pretty good luck with parking when I'm in my work van, but not today. Had I delivered the bed at 2pm, as I had wanted to, I would have been fine. But the nurse I talked to requested I wait until after the shift change, and consequently after the time when you aren't allowed to park in front of the facility anymore. As a result I had to roll 250 pounds of bed frame and railings, (long ungainly railings), and a large, unfoldable, mattress-sized mattress 1.5 blocks down a very steep hill. About half way down the hill a homeless guy asked if I needed help. Since I did, he got the job of steering, and I held onto the mattress and slowed our descent.
The whole reason I was delivering this setup was because the patient's family was being difficult and the facility asked us to bring some really nice, clean, new-looking stuff for her to use. So we carefully set aside our finest mattress, frame, and brand, spanking, new, not-previously-died-upon mattress cover. Everything was perfect as I started down the hill. But inexplicably, even though he was steering the far side of the bed, and the only thing he hung across the bed frame on his far side was a grungy sport jacket, he somehow managed to make a puddle of hamburger juice on the headboard.
Having no other option, I transferred the puddle of hamburger juice from the headboard to my shirt, thereby returning the bed to its previous pristine condition, and making it look like I'd dripped hamburger juice on my gut sometime within the preceding 10 minutes.
Of the two, I'm going to give the MVH award to Bill for his artistic ability and innocent but disconcerting use of sitcom pickup lines.
* I do not work for Planet Mobility.
Today I delivered three bed frames, and had to dismantle another. The one I dismantled was a strange spring and pulley design circa 1986, and it took me a half hour just to figure out how to START taking it apart. And let me just take a moment here to thank technology for creating better, smaller, and most importantly, lighter stuff. The portion of the 80's frame with the motors on it was nearly the same weight as Greenland. Luckily I had a helper.
My helper's name was Bill, and I'd guess he was 3. When I was bringing my bed frame into the house (it comes in 5 pieces: Head, foot, knee, back, rails), he would announce each new piece as I came through the door. And each time I would step outside he would announce that as well. At least I think that's what he was doing.
He seemed to have his own little toddler language. When I walked up the stairs with the headboard he said, "Orph mas displader!" To which I replied, "Yep, it's a brand new bed." "Brand new bed!" he confirmed. He did this over and over. He'd say something in his native baby tongue, and I say something uninteresting like, "Yep, it comes in five pieces. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5." Then he would magically regain his command of the English language and perfectly repeat the phrase, "Five pieces."
After I had my frame unloaded Bill decided he should go help get grandma out of her ancient hospital bed. Bill's mom was using a Hoyer lift* to accomplish this, and Bill was a little over eager to pump the lift up to full height. His mom kept having to ask him to wait.
I stepped outside the bedroom until grandma was safely in the chair. (I like to wait out of eye-shot of the lifting process in case the patient is wearing something risqué, like just the plastic ring around their waist where the diaper used to be.) Grandma having been successfully transferred, Bill wandered out of the room, affected the most causal pose a 3 year old can affect, and asked, "how you doing?"
"Good," I replied, thinking that he had maybe watched too many episodes of Friends. "How you doing?"
"I'm doing cool," replied Bill, and went down stairs to color.
When I finished constructing my bed frame and was ready to take the old one down to the garage, Bill reappeared to help. His first inclination was to lift up the portion of bed which weighed 2 or 3 times what he did. I took that section instead and handed him the controller handset, which he was overjoyed to bring down stairs. As we hefted our loads down to the garage I complimented him on the amoeba he had drawn on his forehead while he was coloring. His mom was also impressed with his handiwork.
My final delivery of the day was another bed frame to a facility in San Francisco. I usually have pretty good luck with parking when I'm in my work van, but not today. Had I delivered the bed at 2pm, as I had wanted to, I would have been fine. But the nurse I talked to requested I wait until after the shift change, and consequently after the time when you aren't allowed to park in front of the facility anymore. As a result I had to roll 250 pounds of bed frame and railings, (long ungainly railings), and a large, unfoldable, mattress-sized mattress 1.5 blocks down a very steep hill. About half way down the hill a homeless guy asked if I needed help. Since I did, he got the job of steering, and I held onto the mattress and slowed our descent.
The whole reason I was delivering this setup was because the patient's family was being difficult and the facility asked us to bring some really nice, clean, new-looking stuff for her to use. So we carefully set aside our finest mattress, frame, and brand, spanking, new, not-previously-died-upon mattress cover. Everything was perfect as I started down the hill. But inexplicably, even though he was steering the far side of the bed, and the only thing he hung across the bed frame on his far side was a grungy sport jacket, he somehow managed to make a puddle of hamburger juice on the headboard.
Having no other option, I transferred the puddle of hamburger juice from the headboard to my shirt, thereby returning the bed to its previous pristine condition, and making it look like I'd dripped hamburger juice on my gut sometime within the preceding 10 minutes.
Of the two, I'm going to give the MVH award to Bill for his artistic ability and innocent but disconcerting use of sitcom pickup lines.
* I do not work for Planet Mobility.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Personal Ads
I've noticed that most girls who list ads on Onion Personals are over 5'8". And many are close to 6'.
It strikes me as a bad idea to express yourself in a personal ad on craigslist by copying down the lyrics to a Metallica song and posting a picture of a lily pad.
I steer away from ads which use the phrase "I work hard, and I play hard." These people might be worn out by now.
I'm disappointed when a profile I've bookmarked is deleted, even though I've never gotten around to emailing her.
If I make a solid online connection, then the best case scenario is that we'll go on a date. I hate dates.
I wonder how mail order brides work.
I've noticed that most girls who list ads on Onion Personals are over 5'8". And many are close to 6'.
It strikes me as a bad idea to express yourself in a personal ad on craigslist by copying down the lyrics to a Metallica song and posting a picture of a lily pad.
I steer away from ads which use the phrase "I work hard, and I play hard." These people might be worn out by now.
I'm disappointed when a profile I've bookmarked is deleted, even though I've never gotten around to emailing her.
If I make a solid online connection, then the best case scenario is that we'll go on a date. I hate dates.
I wonder how mail order brides work.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Din Din
Tonight I had an artichoke, some turbot, and some potatoes au gratin.
I realized much too late, i.e. after I had everything on my plate, that I don't like potatoes au gratin.
I guess I'll have to have cereal for breakfast.
Tonight I had an artichoke, some turbot, and some potatoes au gratin.
I realized much too late, i.e. after I had everything on my plate, that I don't like potatoes au gratin.
I guess I'll have to have cereal for breakfast.
Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy
Yet another droplet in the ocean of evidence that points to the fact that Will Ferrell is not funny.
Steve Carell needs to avoid making any more movies with Will "Weasel Eyes" Ferrell so I don't have to subject myself to anymore of his crapitudes.
Everyone else in the movie did a fine job.
Yet another droplet in the ocean of evidence that points to the fact that Will Ferrell is not funny.
Steve Carell needs to avoid making any more movies with Will "Weasel Eyes" Ferrell so I don't have to subject myself to anymore of his crapitudes.
Everyone else in the movie did a fine job.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Sniff
Today a lady used my pen to sign a whole stack of paperwork. Before I got there I think she let her hand soak in a bowl of perfume.
Now every time I use my pen my hand smells like Chanel Number over 55 until I wash it. So I'm either going to have to throw away then pen or get used to inquisitive looks from older gentlemen. And I really like that pen.
Today a lady used my pen to sign a whole stack of paperwork. Before I got there I think she let her hand soak in a bowl of perfume.
Now every time I use my pen my hand smells like Chanel Number over 55 until I wash it. So I'm either going to have to throw away then pen or get used to inquisitive looks from older gentlemen. And I really like that pen.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Creeping Prices
This weekend I decided I'd augment my entertainment center. And by entertainment center I mean the Ikea coffee table on which my TV sits and under which my various TV related electronics live.
My plan was to make a cage thing for my TV to sit on while my electronics live underneath, thereby leaving room under the table for my vacuum to hide. And I thought I'd get all showy and build the whole business out of copper tube.
The whole thing should have cost me about $40, but I underestimated the girth of my CD player and had to buy another 10 feet of tube. Then I realized that my TV would fall down if I didn't solder the tubes together, so I bought a propane torch, some solder, and some flux. Finally I realized the legs would slide off the table, so I needed some caps and screws. At this point the thing is approaching the $80 mark, although $26 of that is tools, and tools don't count.
Today I soldered it all together. I hadn't previously soldered anything, so here's what I've newly learned:
- Use flux on both the pipe and the inside of the fitting.
- Heat ONLY the fitting, not the pipe.
- Don't solder one side of a fitting then come back to the other side later. It doesn't work.
- Don't learn to solder on your project. Figure it out on your extra bits. (I'll have to go ahead an apply that one next time.)
But all and all I'm reasonably happy with it. It creaks a little more than I'm comfortable with, so it's going to get some plywood tomorrow to help distribute my TV's fatness.
Here's an inadequate picture so you know what I'm being so boring about:
This weekend I decided I'd augment my entertainment center. And by entertainment center I mean the Ikea coffee table on which my TV sits and under which my various TV related electronics live.
My plan was to make a cage thing for my TV to sit on while my electronics live underneath, thereby leaving room under the table for my vacuum to hide. And I thought I'd get all showy and build the whole business out of copper tube.
The whole thing should have cost me about $40, but I underestimated the girth of my CD player and had to buy another 10 feet of tube. Then I realized that my TV would fall down if I didn't solder the tubes together, so I bought a propane torch, some solder, and some flux. Finally I realized the legs would slide off the table, so I needed some caps and screws. At this point the thing is approaching the $80 mark, although $26 of that is tools, and tools don't count.
Today I soldered it all together. I hadn't previously soldered anything, so here's what I've newly learned:
- Use flux on both the pipe and the inside of the fitting.
- Heat ONLY the fitting, not the pipe.
- Don't solder one side of a fitting then come back to the other side later. It doesn't work.
- Don't learn to solder on your project. Figure it out on your extra bits. (I'll have to go ahead an apply that one next time.)
But all and all I'm reasonably happy with it. It creaks a little more than I'm comfortable with, so it's going to get some plywood tomorrow to help distribute my TV's fatness.
Here's an inadequate picture so you know what I'm being so boring about:
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Cutting
After an initially exuberant response about my pocket knives, I've managed to sell none of them. I had a number of inquiries, and now nothing. Maybe people thought they were new? I may have to move my operation to either eBay, or to a blanket at South Van Ness and 24th near the Cala Foods. That's where everybody else sells their crap.
In other cutting news, here's a picture of the gas station with the best name in the business:
Notice, if you will, the "#2 diesel." Classic.
After an initially exuberant response about my pocket knives, I've managed to sell none of them. I had a number of inquiries, and now nothing. Maybe people thought they were new? I may have to move my operation to either eBay, or to a blanket at South Van Ness and 24th near the Cala Foods. That's where everybody else sells their crap.
In other cutting news, here's a picture of the gas station with the best name in the business:
Notice, if you will, the "#2 diesel." Classic.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Knives Travel In Packs
They've arrived, all 57 of my pocket knife stock. I'm now the largest seller of miniature cutlery on my block* ... that I know of. I guess I don't know that for sure.
I had originally said that I was getting 56 knives in the mail, but the guy I bought 52 from threw an extra one in for being a good customer.
Of the 57, I've sold 3 to coworkers, and kept 4 for myself. Of the 50 remaining knives, I have 12 Leatherman Micra(s?), a whole boat load of plier things, and a small number of weird, foldable, ill-conceived, nearly useless pincher things. I think I'll throw those in with the Leatherman.
Being the huge nerd that I am, I've made a spreadsheet keeping track of my total price paid, the money I've made back, and the price per knife I've kept for myself. So far each knife I've kept is costing me $24.88, which is actually pretty good for only having sold 3. A brand new Leatherman Micra is $23.95, so I'm almost there. Which of course leads me to more pressing business:
Does anyone need a pocket knife? I'm selling them for $5 each. And for you, that includes the postage. And if you leave positive comments I'll throw in the undercoating. Lets step inside my office and we can go over some numbers.
* When I initially typed that sentence it came out "I'm the largest sell of miniature cutlery on my blog." And that, my friends, is absolutely true.
They've arrived, all 57 of my pocket knife stock. I'm now the largest seller of miniature cutlery on my block* ... that I know of. I guess I don't know that for sure.
I had originally said that I was getting 56 knives in the mail, but the guy I bought 52 from threw an extra one in for being a good customer.
Of the 57, I've sold 3 to coworkers, and kept 4 for myself. Of the 50 remaining knives, I have 12 Leatherman Micra(s?), a whole boat load of plier things, and a small number of weird, foldable, ill-conceived, nearly useless pincher things. I think I'll throw those in with the Leatherman.
Being the huge nerd that I am, I've made a spreadsheet keeping track of my total price paid, the money I've made back, and the price per knife I've kept for myself. So far each knife I've kept is costing me $24.88, which is actually pretty good for only having sold 3. A brand new Leatherman Micra is $23.95, so I'm almost there. Which of course leads me to more pressing business:
Does anyone need a pocket knife? I'm selling them for $5 each. And for you, that includes the postage. And if you leave positive comments I'll throw in the undercoating. Lets step inside my office and we can go over some numbers.
* When I initially typed that sentence it came out "I'm the largest sell of miniature cutlery on my blog." And that, my friends, is absolutely true.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
BYOBW
Today I went to the 6th annual BYOBW (Bring Your Own Big Wheel), a big wheel race down Lombard street which happens every year on Easter Sunday.
I really didn't know much about it before I went, and today was the first time I had been. Suffice it to say, it was really excellent. It's organized by Jon Brumit, a local, um, interactive(?) artist.
I can't describe it any better than these pictures can:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/67126793@N00/sets/72057594108990528/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kwajkid/sets/72057594108990891/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/metropolio/sets/72057594108946134/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/trulydoolally/sets/72057594108953265/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/theorem/sets/72057594109037439/
Today I went to the 6th annual BYOBW (Bring Your Own Big Wheel), a big wheel race down Lombard street which happens every year on Easter Sunday.
I really didn't know much about it before I went, and today was the first time I had been. Suffice it to say, it was really excellent. It's organized by Jon Brumit, a local, um, interactive(?) artist.
I can't describe it any better than these pictures can:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/67126793@N00/sets/72057594108990528/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kwajkid/sets/72057594108990891/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/metropolio/sets/72057594108946134/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/trulydoolally/sets/72057594108953265/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/theorem/sets/72057594109037439/
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Pub Quiz Update
We knew we were in for trouble when we spent the entire first round answering questions with words which were already stated in the question. For example:
What is the principle ore in iron?
They always say "iron ore" right? So ... Iron?
Which felt like material is most often used to cover pool tables?
Felt. Definitely felt.
And such was the performance we put in throughout the night. That's why we, Mushu Porkistra, came in 7th, i.e. last.
Ouch.
We knew we were in for trouble when we spent the entire first round answering questions with words which were already stated in the question. For example:
What is the principle ore in iron?
They always say "iron ore" right? So ... Iron?
Which felt like material is most often used to cover pool tables?
Felt. Definitely felt.
And such was the performance we put in throughout the night. That's why we, Mushu Porkistra, came in 7th, i.e. last.
Ouch.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Rambling
I seem to be on a big shopping binge of late. I just bought a new TiVo, 2 CDs, a book, 56 pocketknives, a video card (computer thing), and I'm looking for a USB network adapter to hook my TiVo to my home network. I'm unstoppable.
And now I'm thinking about getting a new car. Well, not new, new. But a different, smaller, used car. Right now I drive a 97 Camry CE. CE stands for "this Car doesn't have any fEatures" - no power locks, no power windows, a manual transmission (I like this), no cruise control, and no intermittent wipers. And most frustratingly, it's enormous. I didn't used to think it was enormous when I lived in an apartment with a garage, but now I have to park it on the street amongst the tightly clustered driveways of Ocean View.
Parking near my house is one thing, but going out to some of the other parkingly challenged neighborhoods is terrible. On Friday I went to see Pedalsped with Sheila at the Tongue and Groove on Van Ness at Union. I drove around for 45 minutes looking for a place to park before giving up and going to Mitchell's instead. I saw several spaces meant for more petit cars, but the ones sized for my tubby Camry were snatched up right before our eyes (3 in total). It was extremely frustrating.
And I know, I have a scooter, the ultimate parking machine. But it's no good when the rain is coming down in drops big enough to drown in.
The surprising front runner in my car research so far: The Ford Focus ZX3. Small, cheapish, good horsepower, and ELECTRIC LOCKS. Yes, I long for remote keyless entry like most people wish for, well, I don't know. I drew a blank there and went to Google some wishes. Apparently some people wish to "gorge on porn," while others wish "all the Mexicans would speak English." I wonder if they're including the ones who still live in Mexico. Maybe for ease of vacationing?
It would be nice to learn some Spanish.
How's that for a meandering post?
I seem to be on a big shopping binge of late. I just bought a new TiVo, 2 CDs, a book, 56 pocketknives, a video card (computer thing), and I'm looking for a USB network adapter to hook my TiVo to my home network. I'm unstoppable.
And now I'm thinking about getting a new car. Well, not new, new. But a different, smaller, used car. Right now I drive a 97 Camry CE. CE stands for "this Car doesn't have any fEatures" - no power locks, no power windows, a manual transmission (I like this), no cruise control, and no intermittent wipers. And most frustratingly, it's enormous. I didn't used to think it was enormous when I lived in an apartment with a garage, but now I have to park it on the street amongst the tightly clustered driveways of Ocean View.
Parking near my house is one thing, but going out to some of the other parkingly challenged neighborhoods is terrible. On Friday I went to see Pedalsped with Sheila at the Tongue and Groove on Van Ness at Union. I drove around for 45 minutes looking for a place to park before giving up and going to Mitchell's instead. I saw several spaces meant for more petit cars, but the ones sized for my tubby Camry were snatched up right before our eyes (3 in total). It was extremely frustrating.
And I know, I have a scooter, the ultimate parking machine. But it's no good when the rain is coming down in drops big enough to drown in.
The surprising front runner in my car research so far: The Ford Focus ZX3. Small, cheapish, good horsepower, and ELECTRIC LOCKS. Yes, I long for remote keyless entry like most people wish for, well, I don't know. I drew a blank there and went to Google some wishes. Apparently some people wish to "gorge on porn," while others wish "all the Mexicans would speak English." I wonder if they're including the ones who still live in Mexico. Maybe for ease of vacationing?
It would be nice to learn some Spanish.
How's that for a meandering post?
Monday, April 10, 2006
Riiing
I own a very nice pair of earplugs. They are made of yellow flexible plastic and come in a handy, round, white case. A blue plastic cord stretches between them so I can hang them around my neck when they aren't busy protecting my hearing.
And yet I never remember to bring them to concerts.
I went to see Elbow last night and when the opening band, Earlimart, started playing I realized what I had forgotten to bring. I was standing right up next to the stage, so when the lead singer played his guitar my hair blew back.
I weighed my chances of being able to get back to the stage if I left in search of improvisational earplug material, and decided against it, so I searched my pockets and scanned the area around me.
When the song ended I asked the woman next to me if I could have her drink napkin. She handed it over and I ripped it up into External Auditory Meatus sized chunks. Since the napkin was wet with drink condensation, the paper molded to the shape of my ear canal quite nicely, and when the concert was over I had some perfectly formed ear canal molds, which I decided I wouldn't keep.
And in case anyone was wondering, Elbow was excellent. I got a pick and a set list which says at the bottom: "This is only genuine if this is written on it." So I guess it is.
[I am currently reading a book which is narrated by an autistic teenager. I'm a little worried that I'm absorbing the writing style]
I own a very nice pair of earplugs. They are made of yellow flexible plastic and come in a handy, round, white case. A blue plastic cord stretches between them so I can hang them around my neck when they aren't busy protecting my hearing.
And yet I never remember to bring them to concerts.
I went to see Elbow last night and when the opening band, Earlimart, started playing I realized what I had forgotten to bring. I was standing right up next to the stage, so when the lead singer played his guitar my hair blew back.
I weighed my chances of being able to get back to the stage if I left in search of improvisational earplug material, and decided against it, so I searched my pockets and scanned the area around me.
When the song ended I asked the woman next to me if I could have her drink napkin. She handed it over and I ripped it up into External Auditory Meatus sized chunks. Since the napkin was wet with drink condensation, the paper molded to the shape of my ear canal quite nicely, and when the concert was over I had some perfectly formed ear canal molds, which I decided I wouldn't keep.
And in case anyone was wondering, Elbow was excellent. I got a pick and a set list which says at the bottom: "This is only genuine if this is written on it." So I guess it is.
[I am currently reading a book which is narrated by an autistic teenager. I'm a little worried that I'm absorbing the writing style]
Saturday, April 08, 2006
That's a Whole Lot of Sharp
I always carry a Leatherman Micra around on my key ring. It's just the most useful thing ever. It has scissors, a knife, a nail file, screwdrivers, and tweezers. I use it constantly at work.
But as the M-Line was approaching to take me to the airport last week, I noticed I hadn't taken it off my keys. Weighing the relative chances of getting it through security twice, I decided I'd hang it on a branch of the bush by the train stop in hopes that nobody would notice it before I came back. Alas, when I returned, it was gone.
I've spent the last week bidding on Leatherman Micras on eBay, and losing out at the last second to other people. So yesterday at 6am, in a moment of frustration, I made the minimum bid on a lot of 42, a lot of 10, and a lot of 4, thinking somebody would most likely out bid me in the remaining 10 hours of the auctions. Well, $114 and a day later, I have 56 pocketknives headed my way from all over the country.
I think I'm going to be heavily involved with eBay over the next couple weeks getting rid of all but maybe 4 of these things.
Anyone want a knife?
I always carry a Leatherman Micra around on my key ring. It's just the most useful thing ever. It has scissors, a knife, a nail file, screwdrivers, and tweezers. I use it constantly at work.
But as the M-Line was approaching to take me to the airport last week, I noticed I hadn't taken it off my keys. Weighing the relative chances of getting it through security twice, I decided I'd hang it on a branch of the bush by the train stop in hopes that nobody would notice it before I came back. Alas, when I returned, it was gone.
I've spent the last week bidding on Leatherman Micras on eBay, and losing out at the last second to other people. So yesterday at 6am, in a moment of frustration, I made the minimum bid on a lot of 42, a lot of 10, and a lot of 4, thinking somebody would most likely out bid me in the remaining 10 hours of the auctions. Well, $114 and a day later, I have 56 pocketknives headed my way from all over the country.
I think I'm going to be heavily involved with eBay over the next couple weeks getting rid of all but maybe 4 of these things.
Anyone want a knife?
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Bzzzzip!
While I was driving back from Reno today, I saw a smallish girl riding her sport bike down the freeway wearing some very low-rise jeans. Because it was a sport bike she was crouched forward, and because she was wearing low rise-jeans, I could see quite a lot of her butt-crack.
And it made me wonder, does she get a lot of bugs caught in her pants?
While I was driving back from Reno today, I saw a smallish girl riding her sport bike down the freeway wearing some very low-rise jeans. Because it was a sport bike she was crouched forward, and because she was wearing low rise-jeans, I could see quite a lot of her butt-crack.
And it made me wonder, does she get a lot of bugs caught in her pants?
Monday, April 03, 2006
A Number of Things
I went to the Pacific Super on Sunday to pick up some more fancy quality squid, and whatever else looked interesting, for Cate. While I was there I got some seedless red grapes on sale for 69 cents per pound. I think they were on sale because they aren't very seedless. About every third grape is a little crunchier than I'm comfortable with.
A combination of being on East Coast time, Daylight Savings, and trouble sleeping last night has made me very tired, but oddly awake. I'd like to crawl into bed right now, but I'm afraid my brain might get up and aimlessly wander around my apartment for hours yet.
The Chicago Midway airport is a surprisingly religious place. While I was eating some airport food I overheard a lady on her cell phone talking to somebody about her church, their congregation, and her praying for somebody about something. She wrapped up the call with a request that the person on the other end pray for her to make the flight, as she happened to be on the standby list. Possibly relatedly, I was reading an article about how some people in, of all places, Chicago, did a study on the effects of praying for people who underwent heart surgery. The two most interesting groups where those who were prayed for, and those who weren't, both groups having been told that people may or may not pray for them. The people who were prayed for had a slightly higher rate of complications than those who had received no prayers. The people conducting the study couldn't explain it, but I think it's because people like the lady in Midway are using up all the prayer bandwidth by asking if the holy trinity can scoot her up the standby list.
In addition to all the praying and studying of praying, there were several announcements about the Catholic mass to be held in Terminal C at 4pm, and how everyone was invited. It was, oddly enough, a Saturday.
My next door neighbors seem to be having urinal for dinner. It's very unpleasant. Speaking of which ...
When you drive this truck at the airport,
never confuse this nozzle
with this one.
You'll probably get fired. Or possibly set fire to a toilet. Neither of which makes for a good week.
I went to the Pacific Super on Sunday to pick up some more fancy quality squid, and whatever else looked interesting, for Cate. While I was there I got some seedless red grapes on sale for 69 cents per pound. I think they were on sale because they aren't very seedless. About every third grape is a little crunchier than I'm comfortable with.
A combination of being on East Coast time, Daylight Savings, and trouble sleeping last night has made me very tired, but oddly awake. I'd like to crawl into bed right now, but I'm afraid my brain might get up and aimlessly wander around my apartment for hours yet.
The Chicago Midway airport is a surprisingly religious place. While I was eating some airport food I overheard a lady on her cell phone talking to somebody about her church, their congregation, and her praying for somebody about something. She wrapped up the call with a request that the person on the other end pray for her to make the flight, as she happened to be on the standby list. Possibly relatedly, I was reading an article about how some people in, of all places, Chicago, did a study on the effects of praying for people who underwent heart surgery. The two most interesting groups where those who were prayed for, and those who weren't, both groups having been told that people may or may not pray for them. The people who were prayed for had a slightly higher rate of complications than those who had received no prayers. The people conducting the study couldn't explain it, but I think it's because people like the lady in Midway are using up all the prayer bandwidth by asking if the holy trinity can scoot her up the standby list.
In addition to all the praying and studying of praying, there were several announcements about the Catholic mass to be held in Terminal C at 4pm, and how everyone was invited. It was, oddly enough, a Saturday.
My next door neighbors seem to be having urinal for dinner. It's very unpleasant. Speaking of which ...
When you drive this truck at the airport,
never confuse this nozzle
with this one.
You'll probably get fired. Or possibly set fire to a toilet. Neither of which makes for a good week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
