sockparade

wordpress is blogger greatness

2006-06-15T14:13:00.000-07:00

sockparade

as you know, i'm at wordpress now. it's weird to even log on to blogger. it's not as pretty as wordpress. i just wanted to put up a post for old times sake. i miss the blogger community and the thrill of randomly stumbling across great blogs. however, i don't miss the lousy interface.

NEW LOCATION, for some

2006-02-20T14:29:00.000-08:00

THE OFFICIAL URL of SOCKPARADE: http://www.sockparade.com

The much anticipated (probably only anticipated by me) move off of Blogger and into a Wordpress environment has finally happened. I checked out wordpress.com but was unhappy that I could not customize everything. So I decided to shell out the measly $6.95/month at bluehost.com and after tweaking with the myriad of wordpress options this past weekend, I only wish I had moved earlier.

What does this mean for you the reader? Check your bookmarks. Make sure you're not linked to "sockparade.blogspot.com".

Many of you may already be linked to the correct address because I purchased that domain name ages ago and have been forwarding you to Blogger all this time

I'm nowhere close to being finished with setting up the new website but it's functional as far as posts and comments go. So I'm making the move over there now instead of waiting until it's done and trying to maintain two sites at once.

Farewell Blogger, you have served me well.

wordpress

2006-02-16T10:06:00.000-08:00

I had my bags all packed and ready to move to Wordpress today. Unfortunately, Hostway, the company that I originally registered sockparade under, is down for an upgrade. I know, I know that's not really a good excuse for not blogging for the past 3 days. Just thought you should know. Hopefully the move to Wordpress will be completed by the end of the weekend. Bob Schneider wasn't as charming as I had hoped (but he certainly is pretty) and I didn't get a chance to go to the Beats of Basquiat at the MFAH because the line was way too long and we were starving for sushi. We did check out Chrome, a supposed hotspot in Houston, where we ran into our realtor. It's strange how dim lighting and loud music suddenly makes it okay to hug your realtor when I've only shook his hand in daylight. The fiance hugged him too. Of course it was the manly kind with one hand still in the handshake (or fistshake rather) and the other pounding each other's backs. Stay tuned.

what's in your tank?

2006-02-11T06:28:00.000-08:00

I never post on the weekends. Here's the new header as I promised. Feedback welcomed. It's already better than the one day header because it's actually a picture I took as opposed to a copyrighted furniture picture.

one day header

2006-02-10T07:42:00.000-08:00

Enjoy the new sockparade header while it lasts. It's coming down tomorrow and is being replaced by a new one. Yeah, you've guessed it. It's a one day header. I had a dream last night that someone was trying to convince me that Barbara Walters was a lesbian. Random. Happy Friday, folks! Edit: Oh yes, and last night I walked by the computer that my dad was using and saw what he was looking at. See for yourself. It's great-- fantastic, really.

zillow, cheerios and the weekend forecast

2006-02-09T17:02:00.000-08:00

For those of you who have your ear close to the ground about the latest and greatest websites, Zillow.com is probably old news. For those of you who don't, it's basically a beta website that allows you to find an estimate of your property value. They use a mapping system that looks a whole lot like Google maps (complete with satellite and hybrid options). According to this article, " Zillow is aimed at generating profit from advertising and is not intended to put real estate agents out of work..." Like communism, Zillow is good in theory but poor in execution. Reports of outdated house values and leaving off the townhouse I'm currently purchasing are quick ways to make me grow disinterested. But I still was interested enough to mention it here. It's done a great job of publicity category (which is no surprise from Rich Barton, creator of Expedia.com) and if it's advertising money they want, they're on their way to getting it. My younger sister introduced me to a great new cereal today: Yogurt Burst Cheerios (Strawberry). I've always been a big Cheerios fan so this is just another addition to a slew of General Mills cereals that I already adore. Cheerios alone must have fifty different varieties. Check it out at your local supermarket. The weekend looks fantastic. One of my best girlfriends is flying in from San Francisco for the weekend and I haven't seen her in forever so it should be great (photo below courtesy of Alan Wong because it's been so long that I don't have a current photo of her). Friday night I'm finally seeing Bob Schneider (check out his website, he has funny recordings of introductions to some of his best new songs) at the Engine Room. I say "finally" because I feel like I've spent the past 2 years in Austin trying to make plans to see him at Antone's but never got around to doing it. So now I'm back in Houston and I'm finally going to get to see one of my favorite Austin-based musicians. Go figure. Unfortunately, the tickets to the show are in the fiance's car who is currently stuck in Colorado Springs on a business trip from hell so let's all cross our fingers that he gets to come home in time. Saturday night is especially worth mentioning. I'm going to the last of the Starbucks Music Series at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston: The Beats of Basquait. The website promises free Starbucks beverages, a cash bar, a midnight showing of John Hughes' classic teenage movie, Sixteen Candles, and Grandmaster Flash spinning the turntables. All this and I get to check out what the Basquait hype is all about. Full report on Monday.

can't stand the guy

2006-02-08T19:49:00.000-08:00

I hate Mark Cuban. Not a serious hate. But the kind where if you were to ask me to name someone I'd like to punch in the face off the top of my head, there's a good chance I'll spit out his name. Not in a premeditated way (unless blogging about it now counts) but just a offhand negative feeling about the guy. I don't read his blog although I will say that I've come across several references to it so I assume it's pretty popular. Today, one of the NBA.com RSS feeds on MyYahoo! was a link to his blog. Out of curiosity, I read his most current post about Phil Jackson. Now I want to punch him in the face and kick him repeatedly in the shins. Just for being annoying. I have pasted it below for the link lazy. Disclaimer: all typos and inanity are Mark's, not mine. ------------------------------------------------------------ I Own Phil Jackson

Not literally of course. That thrill belongs to the smartest businesswoman in professional sports, Jeannie Buss. Figuratively however, the coach formerly known as the Zen Master must now be considered my bucket boy.

This wasnt an acquisition I proactively pursued. There wasnt an official competition that I won, thereby confirming my dominance of his psyche. Instead Phil has initiated an ongoing commentary about me that started in his previous stint with the Lakers and was reinstated this year with his return, that proves that I own the guy.

For whatever reason, I have gotten to Phil so completely and thoroughly that every time he comes to Dallas he has to offer unsolicited comments about me to the media. I wonder if he dreams about me the nights he spends here in Dallas. Ok, I dont wonder. Im curious about it.

How can the NBA coach with so many championship rings find me so intimidating ? I really dont know, but he said as much in December when he called me an "intimidating force”" to the LA Times

"”consider a place like Dallas, where the owner runs around, pumps up the volume, intimidates the referees and ... has announcers as hired cheerleaders, which is an intimidating force."

Then of course last night he again took the initiative to comment to the media about how I am such a presence in the NBA, that i turn the officials into "“nervous nellies"”. Implying that I can have more influence on the outcome of a game than his coaching skills. I wish. But if Phil wants to think so. Im fine with that. Thats what happens when you own someone, they cant get you out of their head, and they dont often think , speak or act rationally.

I guess Phil was so overwhelmed that it caused him to take back to back delay of game penalties and the technical foul that comes with it, rather than send his team out to the court at the conclusion of a timeout in the 4th quarter.

Of course the officials werent intimidated. At least no more than the other officials who have given Kobe technical fouls to the tune of a league leading 11. Maybe, instead of being so concerned with Mark Cuban, Phil should be worried about the new rule in place that causes a player to be suspended a game after he gets his 16th technical foul of the season. And if I remember correctly, every technical after 16 results in a 1 game suspension as well. Cant wait to hear what he has to say when that happens....

Of course I dont truly believe that I own Phil. This is all tongue in cheek, but that wont prevent me from walking up to him and saying "“Boo"” to see if he jumps, just to find out for sure :)" --------------------------------------------------------------

In other news, I uploaded the fishing pictures. Here is a disgusting mass of tangled earthworms that we tried to use for bait.

Did you know they bleed yellow ooze? When left alone, they just keep twisting around each other into denser knots. Sick. Forget Omarosa, I want to see Mark Cuban drink earthworm guts.

brain dump

2006-02-07T20:18:00.000-08:00

Whenever you have a blog, you notice small things throughout your day that you'd like to share with the world. I've always noticed small things throughout my day, so for me it has just been a matter of remembering to write about it here. I've been collecting little bits and pieces here and there over the past few weeks and the longer I wait to write about them in coherent posts, the more backed up the post queue (what a funny looking word) gets. So here are the bits and pieces of my life in absolutely no particular order. I've got to get this all down before my brain gets too full. [1] I like crossover things. Crossover vehicles, crossover artists, crossover entertainment, and crossover movies. I like the Infiniti FX45, Christina Aguilera, Alamo Drafthouse, and Prison Song. Prison Song is a borderline cheesy movie I caught on TV a few Saturday afternoons ago. It's a rap musical. I know, I know, you're rolling your eyes already. But I liked it. I'm not going to tell anyone to rent it because I tend to like random things more than others (From Justin to Kelly is a good example. Hey, I just really like choreographed dancing, okay?!) But if it comes on TV, give it a chance. [2] I stole from the company's cafeteria last week. Okay, not really steal per se but sort of. I went downstairs to eat with the group I'm currently rotating in even though I brought my lunch. I'm trying to be a team player. Anyway, I didn't have a drink and just wanted water so I went into the lunch line. As I was filling up my Styrofoam cup with ice, I realized that I didn't have any cash on me. There were several people waiting for the soda fountain so I quickly filled my cup with water and tried to think of what to do. I didn't know if they charged for cups of water-- especially because it was the tall kind of Styrofoam cup that is especially bad for the environment and at least someone should be benefiting from it. And then, dear reader, I did the unthinkable. I waited until the cashier was busy with another employee and I swiftly turned my shoulders to shield my cup of water from her view and walked out of the cafeteria. I sat down at the table breathless. I never shoplifted as a kid. This was brand new for me. Not that I'm making a habit out of it. And not that it was even a big deal. It was just water. But all the same, I grinned as I unwrapped my turkey sandwich. My coworkers probably thought I was grinning about the joke the lead accountant made. And that thought made my grin turn into a broad smile. [3] I went to a Excel Seminar a couple of weeks ago. It's not as bad as it sounds. The title of the seminar was "Cool Excel Tricks." And yes, I'm sheepishly admitting that it was kind of cool. The coolest part was that the instructor was Wayne Winston, three time Jeopardy! contestant and author of the book, Microsoft Excel Data Analysis and Business Modeling. He told us all about the process of getting onto Jeopardy! Basically you take a written test. And if you pass the written test, you have a 1 in 4 chance of getting on the show. You've got to have a good story and if they like your story, they let you on the show. He said that even though when you see the show, you think it's spanning several days, they actually film all of the games in one day. So you have to bring different sets of clothing and you get 5 minutes to change between games. He also said that the secret to winning Jeopardy! (he won twice, lost once) is all in the clicker. If you click in too early, you're locked out for a fraction of a second. So when it comes down to it, he likens the experience to playing video games rather than trivial pursuit. Also, he spoke with his left index finger always tucked in. At first I thought he was holding a piece of chalk but later realized that he was just tucking it in. Interesting. [4] I like the foolish thoughts we think to ourselves and never share with others. Not because we're necessarily embarrassed, but because we forget or assume no one is interested. Not sure what I mean? Okay here's an example. Whenever I get a job, I try to find a secret pleasure in it for myself. (It's not as weird as that sentence makes it sound.) When I worked at Subway, I trained myself to take several complete sandwich orders at once. I liked asking which vegetables they wanted right at the beginning and then making their sandwich in silence instead of prompting them as I made it. When I worked at Black Eyed Pea, my goal was to be so friendly that it would cause a coworker to ask if I knew a stranger. It happened during one of my last weeks there. They aren't always challenges or goals. At Best Buy, I used to go through my whole shift without taking a break or going to the bathroom. After awhile, I started taking bathroom breaks even though I didn't need to. I liked the idea of taking time for myself while I was on the clock. I'd work feverishly and when I felt like I deserved it, I'd inform my shift leader that I was going to the restroom. I don't know why but I relished in those long walks to the back of the store. While people thought that I was attending to a physical nuisance, I had the satisfaction of being paid to stroll leisurely. Right. So I better stop here before I lose all my readers. Goodnight.

gone fishin'

2006-02-06T20:25:00.000-08:00

I went fishing this past Saturday with some of my favorite people in the whole wide world. I haven't been fishing since middle school when my dad used to take my older sister and I. The fishing pier on 89th Street and Seawall is much shorter than I remember. I bought a new fishing pole and got an official hunting and fishing license (complete with a bright orange license holder from Wal-Mart); so I hope to go on some more trips when the weather warms up. Galveston ain't much, but it sure has its finer moments. I'll try to upload the rest of the fishing trip pictures later this week. Just in case you were wondering if I was annoyed by the violent cartoon protests-- oh, you bet I am. What better way to protest a cartoon that depicts your religious group as violent than to throw knives and stones at people, make bomb threats and set flags and oh yes, embassies on fire. Real pacifists, let me tell you. I apologize if I sound ignorant and insensitive. I know that the hatred in some of the protesters runs much deeper than I can ever understand. I know it's beyond me. Where I live, I don't have to fight for the right to believe in something. But I'm just growing weary of it all. Today I took a break from the NPR updates to listen to a mindless interview with Pink. It was lighthearted and refreshing. She says that she's becoming more political. And that worries me. Last time a music celebrity got political, the world saw what we thought we'd never see-- Mike Myers feeling extremely awkward in front of a camera. Not acting awkward because God know we've seen that-- no, feeling awkward. Well, that's all for now. Lots of exciting things coming up this month, including the purchase of a new townhouse!

superbowl

2006-02-02T20:08:00.000-08:00

I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that I just found out yesterday who was playing in the Superbowl. Go Seahawks. Is that kind of like a seagull?

no hablo espanol

2006-02-01T12:19:00.000-08:00

And I won't any time soon. But one day I will. The rumored formula is to divide your age by 10 and you'll get the number of years of dedicated effort it'll take you to learn a language. (Apparently, my three years of Spanish learned in a high school classroom doesn't count. Especially not when the teacher was fired the next year for not teaching his students.) You should probably add five more years to the formula for languages without an alphabet. In the meantime, the following audio cassette tapes will be on heavy rotation for me.

lucky strikes

2006-01-30T20:18:00.000-08:00

Everyone knows I don't like bowling. It's one of my least favorite pasttimes. I briefly reconsidered my aversion this past Sunday when I freakishly bowled four strikes in a row. Amazing, huh? I knew no one would believe me so I took a picture. Unfortunately, I woke up this morning and decided that I still don't like bowling. It doesn't help that my forearm is crazy sore.

faster, smarter, stronger

2006-01-26T07:19:00.000-08:00

Recently, I've gotten to know RitzCamera's website pretty well. The best part of their website is the LiveChat function where they have people waiting by to answer your questions. It's kind of like tech support on AIM. At first I thought they was robots, but I verified that it wasn't in the following exchange: Me: I was wondering... is there anyway you can prove that you're human? Maybe by saying something that wouldn't normally be loaded into a computer program? Tommy J: I would be glad to. What would you want me say that would not sound like a loaded program? Me: If you could do anything in the world, what would it be? Tommy J: I would make everyone a better human being.... Me: That's pretty ambitious. Tommy J: Wishful thinking. Me: I want to go to grad school to become a social worker so I know a thing or two about wishful thinking. Tommy J: That is cute. So every morning for the past month, I have patiently checked the RitzCamera website to see the order status of my out-of-stock dSLR camera and my out-of-stock lens kit that I recently purchased and have been eagerly awaiting. This morning I was shocked to find this message across my computer screen. -------------------------------------------------------------- Order Status: Item No. 541535811 NIKON D200 W/NIKON 18-200 ZOOM KIT In Stock - Usually ships on the next business day (Mon. - Fri.) -------------------------------------------------------------- I almost peed in my pants. Here are a few gorgeous Digital Photography Preview pictures of the camera. You can bet your bottom dollar that there will be a follow-up post when this baby comes in.

dying on a bed of roses

2006-01-25T07:22:00.000-08:00

Since when did Sockparade become a Houston TripAdvisor? I skimmed over my latest posts this morning and was embarrassed to read most of them. Sockparade isn't supposed to be so impersonal. Well, I'm working these days. The hours are good and the people are friendly. Luckily my current supervisors aren't into micro-management so I spend most of the day by myself. I eat quick fifteen-minute lunches at my desk (usually with my face buried in a book) so that I can leave early at the end of the day. I'd prefer to have at least one companion here. Work is always better when you have someone to make stupid remarks to when your computer is slow or when you wish you could take a nap. I have yet to find that person. My floor of the building has really tall cubicle walls. So tall, in fact, that I've never seen the girl who sits across from me. I have no idea what she looks like but she talks pretty loudly on her phone so I know that she went to work out with her friend yesterday after work and also that she took her shoes to the shoe hospital to get them refinished. I know that her nephew is in elementary school and moved here after the hurricane. He's not doing well in school and it's largely due to lack of parental involvement although his mother has started bringing him to the library on Saturdays. I also just learned this morning that she's Vietnamese even though this whole time I thought she was Hispanic by her accent. I'm on a rotational program so they haven't assigned me a permanent cube. This annoys me because I don't really want to decorate my space until they assign me one and it's a really boring cube. The walls are covered in a grey-speckled fabric and if I squint my eyes, it looks like the fuzzy static that shows up on a television screen. You can imagine how crazy that would make you feel. I've really enjoyed treating Houston like a city I'm visiting instead of the city I've lived in since I was two. That could possibly explain why I've been writing so many TripAdvisor posts. As you can see, I'm still having trouble describing how I feel lately. The best way I can try to explain my state of mind is to borrow the words of an author I've recently praised.

"She is better, she is safer, if she rests in Richmond; if she does not speak too much, write too much, feel too much; if she does not travel impetuously to London and walk through its streets; and yet she is dying this way, she is gently dying on a bed of roses. Better, really, to face the fin in the water than to live in hiding, as if the war were still on." -Michael Cunningham, The Hours

You didn't think I was referring to that old Christian Slater movie when you read the title of the post, now did you? --------------------------------------------------------------- Oh yes, and to all the wordsmiths out there. What's that word that means something is chronologically misplaced? Like a microwave in the Stone Ages? I've been racking my brain for the past few days and can't seem to remember. Starts with an "A" and has "chron" in it? Maybe? --------------------------------------------------------------- I can't believe they traded Peja for Ron Artest. And I think what Kobe said about Phil Jackson after his 81 points was really nice. And I still think the Pistons can go all the way even though they almost lost to the lousy Rockets.

rock 'n roll ain't cheap so do your part

2006-01-24T07:33:00.000-08:00

I met Chopper (the tallest guy in the picture above) the lead singer/guitarist of Kissinger on Friday at the Sidecar Pub in Cypress this past Friday. What did I think of the Sidecar Pub? I think it's a waste of a great live music venue. The acoustics in that place are incredible. The actual room is a comfortable size and the stage is intimate with fairly sophisticated lighting. But all this went to waste because the opening band before Kissinger was way below par and the crowd was sparse and impersonal. That means you can't trust the management to book good bands and you won't be meeting any new friends at Sidecar. I've never been to a show before where I didn't have to go early and fight my way to the front. There was no standing crowd to fight through and no strangers beside me to grin at during a good song. Everyone hung around the back of the place-- most chose to sit at the bar. They were so passive and detached from the show that when they clapped and hollered after each song I was momentarily surprised to find that there were actually a good number of fans behind me. I hated that. I could tell the band was a bit discouraged because of the unenthusiastic crowd. They're from Austin which means that they're used to playing in crowded bars on Sixth to over-friendly t-shirt-clad college students instead of middle aged professionals in their button-downs and the Harley-Davidson Motorcycle Gang. At one point in their set, Chopper actually felt compelled to invite the people to move towards the stage instead of lingering around the tables in the back. My friends and I and a handful of other people were the only ones who moved closer. He later thanked us personally and gave us each a free, autographed CD. They play rock and roll the way I like rock and roll. Powerful vocals, mic-ed up drums that you feel in your chest, and solid guitar rifts that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. No teenage vocals, no screamo, no accidental speeding up at the climax of the song, good melodies, and a fair amount of dancing and power stances. Chopper slung his guitar behind his head for a few bars while his Bruce Vilanch sidekick (pictured above on the left) rocked his guitar between his legs. It made me smile. (As you might deduce, I don't know much about rock. But I smiled because it was a nod to the rock and roll greats of the past who pulled stunts like that during their shows.) I tried buying a Tshirt after the show but they were all out of my size. The lady working the merch table gave me a free pin as a consolation gift. Free swag makes a happy fan. I'm going to keep my eye on Kissinger. I like what they do. Their CD is pretty amateur but I think they've got potential. As for the Sidecar Pub, I don't think I'll be back anytime soon. I know you go to a show for the band and for the music. But after Friday I realized that live music is a total experience which includes the people you're surrounded by when you're watching your favorite band. The only way I'll go back to Sidecar is if Pete Yorn himself appears on that stage. I hope some other bars in Houston will book Kissinger the next time they come to town. Did I mention that Sidecar is located in a shopping strip behind a Hartz's Chicken? Cypress, Texas at its finest.

i like television

2006-01-20T09:39:00.000-08:00

I grew up without cable television. This means I never knew what kids were talking about when they referred to Nickelodean cartoons. I tried my best to compensate for it. On our weekly trips to the local public library, I would always read the Nickelodean magazine to try to understand which cartoon characters were which and who was cool. I grew up listening to the Soft Rock radio station that my parents liked and the Christian radio station that my older sister liked. This meant I was extremely confused when people at school started singing, "Millions of peaches, peaches for me." I didn't know any popular music and I could never join in on conversations about music videos. I think my lack of exposure to music videos is one of the main reasons why I'm a lousy dancer. Oh, I still dance. But I don't dance well. I still don't have cable television but I like it. I even like regular television. When you've grown accustomed to being entertained by stupid television shows like Baywatch Nights and Matlock, shows like Grey's Anatomy and Fear Factor are ridiculously addictive. I don't watch many TV shows but when I watch them, I usually enjoy the time. I watched Dancing with the Stars for the first time last night and I have to say that watching Master P ballroom dance was hilarious. I can usually tell which friends I am most comfortable with by how much time I can spend watching TV with them without feeling pressure to do something else. Cable television has introduced me to the effectiveness of Pilates because every hot actress or model does Pilates or Yoga. I'm grateful to television for that. I don't listen to the radio much but I like it. I even like pop music. I have met so many radio haters in my lifetime. I think if I wanted to start a radio boycott I could rally up a large mass of supporters in a week. I like the popular club songs like Kanye West's Gold Digger and Chris Brown's Run It. I like Kelly Clarkson and Green Day. And yes, I even like Coldplay. Sure I don't watch television much but I'm not one of those people who don't want a TV in their house and will forbid their children to watch television. And sure I listen to some non-mainstream music but I'm not a hater of pop music and I never will be. I can't fault someone for liking something because it's popular (this is a very natural tendency that most people have) but I can't stand it when people dislike something solely for the fact that it's popular. -------------------------------------------------------- Gmail finally made a Delete button so you don't have to use that drop-down menu anymore. It's about time!

mucky duck and consistency

2006-01-18T07:24:00.000-08:00

I completely forgot to tell you how Patrice Pike was at the Mucky Duck. It was one of the most enjoyable non-rock shows I have ever been to. Patrice was warm and quirky. Her music was pretty difficult to classify. Her music blended acoustic rock, alternative, folk, bluegrass, and jazz (complete with scat singing). I don't even know how to compare her to an existing artist. She's Jewel, John Mayer, Louie Armstrong, and Janis Joplin with a twist of salsa music. The rhythms she created on her guitar made me want to get up and groove with the crazy hippies right in front of the stage. McGonigel's Mucky Duck was cool. It's an Irish Pub that serves things like Fish & Chips and Shepherd's Pie. Both were delicious. But then again, I was starving so maybe that's a biased opinion. The lighting was dim and cozy. They have tiny tables that fill up fast and we were lucky to snag a little two-seater near the back. Many tables indicated that they were reserved so the reservation route is probably the way to go. The tables are the kind where it's so small you can't cross your legs comfortably and they have to keep clearing your plates because there isn't room for them to pile up. But it's also the kind of table where you can lean in close to the person sitting across from you and whisper in their ear and hold their hand. I like their tables. I had their Sherry Trifle which is layers of white cake, raspberry preserves, whipped cream, vanilla custard, covered with almonds and sherry drizzled over the top. No complaints there. They don't serve liquor but they have a pretty wide selection of beer and coffee. I'll definitely be back. On a completely unrelated note, I want to complain about minorities. I hate reading rants about racial issues. So if you want to stop reading right here, that's perfectly okay. I usually avoid blogging about it but there are some things that I would like to say. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Just so that the following is read in context, I am a minority myself. Maybe that's why all of this bothers me so much. I was extremely annoyed when I read about Mayor Ray Nagin's claims that New Orleans is a chocolate city and that it's how God would want it to be. First of all, I can't stand it when minorities are so upset about racist attitudes or comments such as the A&F T-shirts and then turn around and make even more outlandish statements themselves. I hate that there are Asians who tout around slogans like "Asian Pride" and "K-Power" while participating in groups that strive for racial equality. Equality means that everyone is equal as far as race is concerned. It doesn't mean that your particular race is better than everyone else. If a White politician had said, "New Orleans should be built up as a vanilla city because it's how God would want it," you better believe that would be the end of his career. Not so with minorities. Second of all, I can't stand it when people irreverently use the God card to scare or influence others. Unless I'm seriously mistaken, Nagin isn't a prophet and is seriously overstepping his bounds. I cannot stand self-proclaimed mouthpieces for God who use religion for political power. This isn't the first time I have felt so annoyed. For example, I hated the whole William Hung obsession. For the past 50 years, Asians have tried to gain respect from the world and break out of the stereotype as cheap labor and acrobatic clowns. With one lousy American Idol appearance, William Hung took a permanent sharpie and redrew the clown image of Asians everywhere. I was appalled at the fact that his popularity was spreading like wildfire in the Asian community. This is loosely similar to the idolization of the so-called "thug life" in the Black and Hispanic community and their simultaneous defensiveness when their race is associated with crime. I'm sick of writing this. You know, my voicemail message on my first cell phone used to say, "Try to be consistent, okay?" And I know we're all human, and it's impossible to be consistent at all times. I am fully aware that the human being is often just a very contradicting mess of opinions and ideas. But could we all please just try our hardest to be consistent? I'd really appreciate it.

grey chevy

2006-01-17T07:11:00.000-08:00

I sacrificed blogging time last night to watch Fear Factor: Reality Stars Edition. I mostly just wanted to watch Omarosa drink blended earthworm guts but she didn't get her turn by the end of last night's show. I'll have to stay up and watch it tonight. (And by the way, what's Omarosa's last name? I can't believe she's reached one-name status.) This morning the LCD freeway billboard that usually tells me the average time it takes to get to the 610 Loop had a very different message:

CHILD KIDNAPPED GREY CHEVY TX LIC L26 NYC

Reading it really jarred me. Kidnappings are one of those things that are beyond my realm of comprehension. Its frequency on the silver screen and in Saturday afternoon WB movies makes it one of those "it would never happen to me" crimes. It's hard to believe that kidnappings occur all the time in our modern, suburban world. I hope they find the low-life that kidnapped him and that the kid's okay. EDIT: Me and the fiance found a neat little cafe on Westheimer yesterday after work. It's called Empire Cafe and I wish I had my camera so I could show you what it looked like inside. Here's a tiny one from AOL CityGuide: Houston. I usually use Citysearch but they didn't have a picture. I might start using CityGuide because the editorial commentary is written much better. The only thing it's lacking is the number of user reviews. Empire Cafe is everything you'd want from a cafe. Good music, cozy interior, the warm smell of freshly baked goods, piping hot coffee, and of course, the token beatnik huddled in the corner with a cup of java and a philosophy book. The patrons of the cafe were as varied as the citizens of Houston. During my hour-and-a-half there, I saw college students, young professionals still in their business casual clothes, mothers and daughters, a Lord of the Rings diehard, hippies, urban outfitted graduate students and a man in a three-piece suit with a yellow tie and hankerchief. I had a slice of the Hummingbird cake. It was delicious-- like banana-nut bread on steroids. It had bits of pineapple and pecans wonderfully hidden in each bite. The hot chocolate was only okay. I'd like to try one of their coffee cordials next time. Here's AOL's CityGuide Review of Empire Cafe.

le parkour

2006-01-13T06:14:00.000-08:00

You may remember my video post in December with the "Urban Ninja" running around the city doing cool flips and stunts. I was pretty fascinated with it and tried to find more videos on YouTube.com that were similar to it. I was overwhelmed with just how many there were. Apparently, there's this movement out there called Le Parkour (or just Parkour). According to Wikipedia, it's a "physical discipline of French origin in which participants attempt to pass obstacles in a smooth and rapid manner." This may include jumping off high ledges, jumping from the rooftop of one building to another (a la Superman), climbing walls, clearing fences, and slipping through small gaps. It has also been referred to as "free running." Those who participate in Parkour are called traceurs. Some see Parkour as a form of art. Some have even proclaimed it as a way of life. Most name David Belle as the founder of Parkour and the most skilled traceur in the world. There are debates about whether flips and acrobatic stunts count as Parkour. There are many groups who have started their own style, each embellishing on the original idea of Parkour. These styles fall under the umbrella of Freestyle Parkour. Wikipedia explains that Freestyle Parkour "incorporates movements (such as flips, spins, and many others) that lie outside the realm of parkour as practiced and advocated by David Belle and others." Proponents of the original form of Parkour adamantly declare (parkour.net):

"Parkour is NOT some sort of kamikaze activity where the goal is to jump off huge objects and take ill-considered risks! It is not about jumping from roofs. It is about how to get from one point to another in the fastest and most efficient way possible."

To those unfamiliar with Parkour, it is most easily compared to the movements of Hong Kong martial arts celebrity, Jackie Chan. The fluidity of movement in a person's natural environment as they run through obstacles is the common theme. I haven't seen it myself, but Thailand's 2003 blockbuster hit, Onk-bak, is supposed to have a Parkour-inspired chase scene as well. There have been several documentaries trying to capture the essence of Parkour including but not limited to: Jump London, Jump Britain and Banlieue 13. So what's so great about it? A lot of things. I think physical discipline is one of the most admirable things on God's green earth. I love when physical exertion becomes an art form. I think there are moments in sports when the movements are so graceful that an observer from another planet might conclude that the players were dancing instead of competing. But most of all, I really love visuals that disturb my sense of normality and for lack of a better word, rightness. (Yes, it's a real word. I looked it up.) When I watch the traceurs they disrupt my expectations about man-made boundaries. When you see a winding staircase you expect people to run down the steps, not fly over the railing and fall 15 feet to the ground. When you see a wall you naturally expect people to walk around it instead of climbing it. Whether we realize it or not, there are invisible boundaries that surround us everyday. I think that's why I thought the Urban Ninja video was such a trip. They had stunts in shopping malls where ordinary people would be walking around and a traceur would come along and redraw the boundaries for movement. To read more, here's the Wikipedia link. For videos, google Parkour or go to YouTube.com and search for Parkour. Some are pretty shoddy as they are probably made from handheld cameras with fifteen-year-old directors of cinematography. But there are also a good handful of semi-professional ones. I haven't seen the documentaries so I can't speak for them.

kobe v. lebron

2006-01-12T12:06:00.000-08:00

Vote for whether you think Kobe or Lebron is a better player right now. Who would you rather be? Thoughts?

just brushed clean feeling

2006-01-12T07:10:00.000-08:00

You've all heard sayings like, "You can tell a lot about a person by the ___________." The blank is filled by any of the following: 1. "shoes he/she wears." 2. "company he/she keeps." 3. "drinks he/she orders at a bar." The saying comes in other forms such as "Clothes make the man." No one likes to openly admit that they're judgmental. There are negative connotations to that adjective that most people shy away from. However, I've noticed that most people also take great pride in being "a good judge of character." This is often self-proclaimed. I think the trick is being able to quickly assess a person by a first impression and learning to conduct yourself accordingly, but being open-minded in the process of getting to know a person. Being judgmental is only rude when you refuse to get to know someone or correct/update your impression. A person who gets duped by a swindling salesman receives no sympathy from me when they innocently cite their overwhelming desire to look for the best in people patterned heavily after Anne Frank and her famous diary. I admire those who make necessary observations and judgments on people but are quick to adjust inaccurate judgments. (I'm not talking about morality here, just whether someone is reliable or sensitive or otherwise.) All this to say, I chew Wrigley's Orbit gum. Wintermint flavor. I'm a big fan of Winterfresh and this is probably the closest I have found in the Orbit product line to match that flavor. I like the way Orbit chewing gum is packaged neatly in a box with the gum wrapped in small rectangles that strongly resemble Trident gum. I like the way the flap of the box tucks into a slit much like the way a cereal box closes on top. Gone are the days of the foiled sticks of gum for me. I never liked the way the foil would stick to the white paper and how the white paper would get often get inadvertently pulled out. With a few slots of missing white paper, the whole package of gum usually loses its shape and soon, sticks of gum are spilling into your purse. I would like to propose the idea that you can tell a lot about a person by the gum he/she chews. For example, on principle, I usually don't spend much time with people who chew Juicy Fruit. The only reason anyone chews Juicy Fruit is because they chewed it growing up and never bothered to explore other flavors. The same goes for Doublemint. Or maybe they just really like twins. Avoiding people who like Big League Chew should go without saying. On the other hand, I am drawn to those who chew Bazooka gum or Wrigley's classic Spearmint flavored gum-- especially if they come in the small five-pack. There are people who chew recreationally (usually opting for fruit-flavored gum) and those who chew pragmatically. Pragmatic chewers usually choose blindingly spicy gum like Dentyne Ice to cover their bad breath. I personally hate those embedded crystals of freshness. As an additional note, pragmatic chewers are usually doubly armed with Listerine PocketPaks. Anyone that truly feels a tie to Asia chews Airwaves which if they bought from Asia, most likely comes in a plastic bag. And of course there's Nicotine gum like Nicorette for those that want to stop but don't want to go cold turkey. Oh and let's not forget Bust-Up gum, which is supposed to increase breast size.

"It cites tests carried out by Thailand's Chulalongkorn University which found Pueraria mirifica therapy was able to enhance breast size by 80%." -BBC News

And finally for those of you who don't chew gum and eat TicTacs instead, I have life-changing news for you. The ads lie. They don't freshen your breath. Especially not the orange ones. Try Icebreakers or old school Certs. (Avoid the Retsyn center mints.)

What does your gum of choice say about you?

an acquaintance part 3

2006-01-11T07:16:00.000-08:00

He's still an acquaintance of mine. That's how he signs his emails. Never with "Yours truly" or "Your friend." Always simply and honestly, "Your Acquaintance." Good friends have stepped in and out of my life over the past ten years but somehow he's one of the few that has managed to keep in touch with me. I like that he doesn't presume that we are friends. Because we aren't. That's not meant to sound coldhearted. Just an objective assessment. I like the candid designation of superficial cameraderie between us. Maybe that's what made it okay for us to only talk twice a year. No lofty expectations mean no heartbreaking disappointments. Perhaps that's why I'm so slow to deem friends as BFF and why I allow people to wander in and out of my life as they please without too much of a fight. I grow fond of you rather quickly but it'll take me quite awhile to love you.

basic training

2006-01-10T19:32:00.000-08:00

Billy Blanks kicked my butt today. Tomorrow's going to hurt.

an acquaintance part 2

2006-01-10T06:30:00.000-08:00

I'm not even sure how he ended up in my car. Something about missing the bus and was it okay for me to give him a ride home since he lived in the same neighborhood. I don't remember much about the car ride. Except that it was awkward and uncomfortable. I tried to make small talk but he mostly just stared out the window. I remember backing out of a driveway too quickly and hearing him say "Ouch," when the cement scraped the bottom of the car. His innocently childish remark surprised me. "Thank you for the ride. Bye, bye." He said this in a mechanized voice. It sounded a lot like Johnny-5 in the 1986 film, Short Circuit. I graduated from high school, went to college and didn't hear from him until my sophomore year. He called me on my cell phone. It took me a moment to place his name and voice. Apparently he had looked me up on the UT directory and called the apartment. My roommate, thinking it might be a guy I was interested in gave him my cell phone number. I almost strangled her when I found out. The phone calls soon became unbearable. They would come at all hours of the night. He'd call just to talk and to ask me for advice about his life. Three or four phone calls a day was normal for him and finally I couldn't stand it anymore. "Hey listen, I don't think you should be calling me so much." "I'm sorry." He paused. "Are you mad at me?" "No, I'm not mad. It's just you can't be calling me every day and so many times a day. You know? You should only call if there's an emergency or on special occasions or something." "Like bank holidays?" I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, bank holidays. That would be fine." And so he stopped calling me everyday. And right when I would forget that I ever even knew him, he'd call me again. About once every six months.

an acquaintance part 1

2006-01-09T06:48:00.000-08:00

His eyes were wild with anger and his breaths became more labored as the jocks from two tables behind us continued to jeer at him. His face reddened as they mockingly asked him questions about his supposed imaginary girlfriend. He clenched his fists, grit his teeth and closed his eyes as a feeble attempt to ignore the verbal jabs. I was startled when he erupted in rage by screaming back at his tormentors. His scream was terrifying. It seemed to come from some horribly dark depth of his being and had such a wild, unrestrained quality to it that it scared me. It sounded crazy. I dropped my fork of mashed potatoes back onto my Styrofoam tray. I lost my appetite. The entire school cafeteria quieted down and looked curiously for the source of the scream. I looked back to see if the jocks would respond but they didn't. They had turned back to their table. I heard snickering and laughter, but no more insults were thrown. The surrounding tables eventually lost their interest and went back to their own conversations. The cafeteria quickly returned to its normal roar of noises. I turned to look at him. He was shaking and still red in the face. He rocked back and forth in his seat the way you would expect a patient in a mental hospital to rock. Not violently, but very quietly and steadily. It reminded me of the way a mother would rock a crying baby to sleep. Maybe that's what he was doing-- comforting himself. I sat helplessly. Sitting six chairs away and not knowing what to do, I watched him. He took an apple out of his brown paper lunch bag and bit into it violently. I watched him try to calm himself but his bites into the apple gave him away. After each bite, he chewed furiously as if he were transferring his hate for the world onto the piece of fruit in his mouth. "Hey, don't let them get to you." He looked up at me, surprised that I was talking to him. His eyes were blurred by tears of anger. I have never in my life seen anyone look so anguished. He looked at me like I was crazy and went back to eating his apple. That was the first time I ever talked to him.

soap, rope, and dope

2006-01-05T16:01:00.000-08:00

A handful of pity points if you know what the title of this post refers to. The most representative soundbyte I heard today was when my supervisor said, "You should have brought a book to read!" I smiled in response, knowing that I had Michael Cunningham's The Hours carefully tucked away in my purse. Today I got a ID badge, went to a office baby shower, got a boxful of office supplies, and carefully avoided Aggies. There's swarms of them at my office. The Hours has been a terrific read so far and it's the kind of book you know will be one of your lifelong favorites before you're even halfway through. Townhouse hunting is pretty interesting. Here are a few excerpts from an email sent from a crackhead realtor that we met with last night:

"Tell your working with me." "Are you interested in making a offer own the Townhome we looked at yesterday?"

Call me neurotic but I don't feel comfortable working with a realtor who can't type. My commute to work is not bad at all. Averages about half an hour on the Beltway each way. The best part about it is the opportunity for me to listen to NPR or my iPod. I had to fight off the urge to get panicky about the Bird Flu today after All Things Considered which isn't so great, but I did feel smarter when I got home. Houston Public Radio is okay. It's not KCRW by any stretch of the imagination, but it's okay. I can supplement to satisfaction with podcasting. Me and the fiance are checking out Mucky Duck tomorrow night because Patrice Pike (of Sister Seven) is singing there. You can expect a full report.

vy fever

2006-01-04T22:02:00.000-08:00

Fitting way to end the season. It'll be nice falling asleep to visions of Vince Young gracefully stepping into the corner of the endzone. He ran 199 yards, scored three touchdowns and passed for 269 yards. How badly does Matt Leinhart wish he entered the NFL last year? Would you stay in college if you were Vince?

public service announcement

2006-01-04T10:19:00.000-08:00

I would like to announce that I am getting a Xanga account so that I can leave comments on other people's Xangas. All the good stuff will stay here. This is part of New Years resolution #238475: to be better at keeping in touch with long-distance friends. If you're long distance with me and don't have a blog-- don't worry, I have other tricks up my sleeve.

happy new year

2006-01-03T22:43:00.000-08:00

It was probably my best new years ever. No, scratch the probably. It was my best new years ever. Here is a glut of pictures for you to enjoy. I'll upload the rest to Flickr later. Here's the view from one of the 5th floor windows. Here's a view from the roof. This picture doesn't do it justice. Here's a picture taken while watching the door. We actually had a few people asking if it was a new club and whether they could get in. We should have charged cover to the strangers and made a quick buck. He looks more punky than intimidating, huh? Here's the wall of a building across the street that conveniently displayed the countdown. Here's a look at the number of people that swarmed downtown's streets. Much like a baby New York. Minus the light rail. And minus Dick. And Hilary Duff. And Ryan Barfcrest. The cops kept getting on the loudspeaker to tell people to get off the light rail tracks. Power couples. Probably the only good picture of the four of us in existence. (A quote comes to mind: "I was always known as the red-lipped boy!") Enough said. Here's G-Unit-- showing her disdain. It was probably directed towards the feisty blond chick (who shall go unnamed only because I don't know her name) who refused to hand over her keys, sat on the off-limits ledge and insisted on lighting her cigarette with one of the tiki torches. And here is one of my favorite snapshots from the night. It doesn't get much better than this folks. Hope everyone had a good new years. Thanks to everyone who came out and partied with us. Let's hope the Rose Bowl is half as exciting as the Orange Bowl. Speaking of which, I wanted to make it known that I, for one, am thoroughly amused that they put fresh oranges in the Orange Bowl trophy. It's not like you put a bunch of Q-tips in the Cotton Bowl trophy.

don't call the cops

2005-12-29T22:56:00.000-08:00

I'm still alive. I will start posting regularly when I start my full-time job on Tuesday. It's that kind of job.

wind beneath my wings

2005-12-20T17:35:00.000-08:00

I returned to the first grade today-- courtesy of my older sister who is an elementary school teacher. She's what you would consider one of those "born to be a teacher" types. I was exhausted by the end of the day and I think I have developed a serious fear of sugar frosting. Overall, it was a real treat. One of the highlights was when one of the girls made me smell the candle that she bought my sister as a gift and then immediately proclaimed that it smelled like roach spray. Kids say the darndest things. Bill Cosby was right. Kids in first grade are really at a precious age. It's an age you wish you could freeze frame them in. They hardly have any prejudices and you just get sense of innocence that you can't help but feel is so quickly fleeting. I also love how they give hugs so freely and unconditionally. I got so many hugs today I think I have enough to last me through the holidays. Oh and also, the librarian at the school today looked a lot like Bette Midler. I couldn't stop staring at her. It must have been cold there in my shadow...

houston

2005-12-19T14:35:00.000-08:00

I have officially moved back in with my parents. Wish me luck!

music genome project

2005-12-15T08:52:00.000-08:00

Every time I swallow, it feels like someone has poured shards of broken glass covered in vinegar and salt into my throat. So I'm pretty much mute until I take my Nyquil and try to sleep it off. When I try to talk, it all comes out either too loud or too soft and my intonations are all off. But I can still type! Not sure if Sauj reads my blog but this music genome project was discovered because he put it up as his away message. Thanks Sauj. Basically, a group of brilliant people set out to capture the fundamental essence of music by creating a Music Genome. This far into the description and I was fascinated already. It's a unbiased way to draw correlations between different songs, regardless of what the band looks like, or what genre they claim to which they claim to belong. The "genes" capture "melody, harmony and rhythm... instrumentation, orchestration, arrangement, lyrics, and of course the rich world of singing and vocal harmony." You might be thinking, so what? Well, dear reader. If you like to discover new music but don't have the time to surf PureVolume or MySpace websites and you wish someone could just give you the new music that you knew you'd enjoy, this is it! It's like having a best friend that knows exactly what kind of music you like and recommends you songs that you're sure to love. Pure genius! How does it work? I'm not entirely sure. I would love to have the whole thing explained to me in detail. But you start out by putting in a favorite song or artist of yours and then it'll start playing a song that you might enjoy. You can then indicate whether you really like the song or whether you don't. This hones in on your musical preferences and I haven't tried this for an extended period of time but I'm sure it'll eventually only play songs that you like! Within 5 songs I had already heard two artists that I have never heard of but really liked. The entrepreneurial geniuses in the group have hooked up with iTunes so you can purchase any songs you particularly love. You can also add songs as your favorites and create an account for yourself. Okay, enough selling. Try it out.

you've still got mail

2005-12-14T18:07:00.000-08:00

I'm pretty sure my mailman hates me. Growing up my older sister always loved getting the mail so I would never go get it. When I got to college, my roommate was really gungho about checking the mail so I never got it. When I was living by myself in LA, I never really expected mail from anyone so I checked my mailbox maybe once every two weeks. This past semester, I sometimes go three weeks without checking it. When I finally get around to getting my mail, pizza coupons and credit card offers are crammed in there so tightly it's hard to open the door of the mailbox. I can only imagine what kind of a struggle the mailman goes through on those last few days, cursing at my irresponsibility and perhaps wondering if he should call 911 to check if funny smells are coming from my apartment. And then almost miraculously, the next day he comes and the mailbox is completely empty. I'm equally bad with answering my cell phone. My sister and my mom both love answering the telephone too. I don't know, I guess I just never really got the hang of it.

good, clean fun

2005-12-12T23:31:00.000-08:00

children part 2

2005-12-12T15:41:00.000-08:00

This post is kind of like P. Diddy's (or is it just Diddy now?) song, "I Need a Girl Part 2", which, as we all know, was way better than Part 1. Dear reader, I have always wondered if you go back to older posts to read comments left by others. If not, you have probably missed out on some great comments, namely those left by Huanger. Here's one of my favorite comments from him. This was written in reference to my post about public transportation.

One time, on the IF bus route, i offered my seat to an older man (most likely a professor). As I got up and was motioning for the prof to sit down, some chick (most likely a democrat in liberal arts) jumped in the seat! Being someone that doesn't just shy away, I politely told her that I was offering the seat to the older gentleman. She replied, "f*ck off... you don't get to control who sits where." I don't exactly get into physical altercations, so I just grabbed her books and got off the bus. She followed me off the bus while I threw them into the bushes. She stayed to fetch her books, threatening to beat me up all the while. I walked home. She didn't follow. I think I negated my "noble" intention with that one. Sorrae to disappoint. - Huanger

And more recently, here's a comment left by the same person in response to my question about what age do you realize that best friends aren't forever.

never. best friends are forever. a best friend that isn't forever was never a friend. - Huanger

Interesting claim. I hesitate to agree because that negates a lot of my old friendships. I'm just not comfortable with the idea. The fact that sometimes you drift apart from your best friend and go your separate way shouldn't take away from the fact that there was a period of time in your life that you really felt a bond with this other person that was unique and different from your other friendships. In the same way, I don't think a breakup should erase the memories and intimacy you shared with a person when you were in the relationship. For the record, these thoughts are really theoretical. I have the same best friend today that I have had since sophomore year in high school. She's one of the few people who have never looked incredulously at me about any of my ideas or dreams. When others ask, "How?" or "Why?" she asks me, "When?" and "Can I help?" I know that doesn't sound too impressive to you but that's probably because you don't know how ridiculous my dreams are.

it's cold

2005-12-08T08:26:00.000-08:00

... well, it's cold by Austin, Texas standards anyway. They cancelled all classes again today. We just don't have the snow tires ready for those icy streets. I'm starting to feel like a shut-in. ------------------------------ "Ice has accumulated up to one quarter of an inch on several bridges, overpasses and elevated roadways. Many have been sanded by TxDOT in order to provide traction for drivers, but some have been closed off by law enforcement because it's just too dangerous to pass.

After a high just shy of 40 this afternoon and the setting of the sun near 5:30pm, temps will drop quickly below freezing again and may get colder than today by Friday morning. We're talking low 20s for metro areas, teens in the Hill Country and protected urban valleys. Warmer winds kick back in as we get to our weekend, with temps back to near normal by Sunday. What a start to December! Stay up-to-date with the latest here and on 'Weather on the Eights.'

Now that it feels like wintertime, help us get into the season with photos of holiday lights around your neighborhood. Click here for instructions on how to send your pic our way, then watch for it to air on 'Weather on the Eights' during our 58 weathercasts this December.

Keep warm.

Meteorologist Randy Ahrens"

cheese donuts

2005-12-07T22:26:00.000-08:00

One summer, my mom suddenly decided that we should no longer buy junkfood for the pantry. Those were very long summer days when dinner was still far away and you had a sudden attack of the munchies right after Animaniacs. I remember my sisters and I used to eat slices of American cheese (Kraft Singles) to try to tide us over until dinner. I'm not sure if this is from the TV show Full House or what, but we would sort of fold the slice in half and bite a hole in the middle of it. And that, my friends, is a cheese donut. I'm not sure what purpose it served. To distract from the fact that you were eating cheese slices? Your guess is as good as mine. Since I'm moving out of my apartment in only a matter of days, I have been trying to refrain from going grocery shopping. This has resulted in eating oddly paired non-perishable foods (or at least foods with long shelf lives). For example I drank a bowl of broccoli cheese soup the other night. For lunch I had a bowl of mashed potatoes. Last night I ate a bowl of Spicy Udon with no meat or vegetables. This afternoon I was standing in front of my refrigerator for a good five minutes, surveying the contents-- even though I knew exactly what was in it. I noticed that I had a large package of Kraft Singles left over from the sandwiches I intended to make, but never did. The memory of cheese donuts crossed my mind and so I happily unwrapped a slice of cheese and ate it. Cheese donut style, of course. Needless to say, it didn't taste as good as I had remembered it. I caved and went grocery shopping. You would have done the same thing.

not ready

2005-12-06T17:55:00.000-08:00

I was walking across campus last week when this guy in a suit fell instep with me and started talking to me. He had a charming African accent and the conversation went something like this. (My responses are in italics.) May I ask you a question? Sure. Do you ever think about tomorrow? Yeah... sure I do. How do you know you're going to see tomorrow? Hey man, I don't even know if I can make it through today. *wide grin* So you believe that it is possible that you might die today. Well, sure. Nobody ever really knows when they'll die. Everybody seems to be agreeing today. I asked a few other people these questions and they feel the same way. I'm about to give a speech for the oratory competition and I wanted to make sure that people would be able to relate. My speech is about appreciating each day and living it to the fullest. I'm sure they can relate. Everyone has to think about death at one point or another. Well, nice talking to you... I've got to get to a meeting. Good luck on your speech. ------------------------------ And just as casually as he had started walking beside me, he veered away from me and walked off to approach another person. Random conversations with strangers is one of the things I'll miss about being on a college campus. I'm not ready to die.

walk the line

2005-12-05T11:34:00.000-08:00

Do yourself a favor and go watch this movie. View the trailer.

outdated phrases

2005-12-02T09:19:00.000-08:00

Like Jim, I just recently watched Karate Kid: Part I all over again. It was great. The best part (okay, not really, but close) was when Daniel-san lets his girlfriend drive his new car and she goes, "You want me to drive?" And he goes, "Hey, it's the 80's!" How come that phrase has completely fallen out of our vocabulary? I remember people saying, "Hey, it's the 90's!" Why not: "Hey, it's the new millenium!" or "Hey, it's the 21st century!" ? Too awkward to say? Maybe it's because there's nothing these days that will really shock people anymore. So no one has the chance to respond with that. We are like a generation of unshockable people.

confession

2005-11-30T16:41:00.000-08:00

"So, Santa doesn't exist... riiight?" She asked me this wide-eyed question over dinner at Chili's tonight and I could tell from her hesitation that she was fully braced for the truth. I took a big sip from my mug of root beer to buy myself some time. "Well, what do you think?" I shot back at her. "I don't know! All my friends say he doesn't exist. Does he?" Man, I didn't want to be the person to tell her that Santa doesn't exist. That has to be the worst job in the world. I'd rather explain sex to her than tell her Santa's just a lie. And I just watched Will Ferrell's movie, Elf, a few days ago and I didn't want to be the Scrooge that rains on the Christmas parade. I didn't want to be responsible for the Clause-ometer tanking with the sleigh in midair. And that's when I decided to lie. Blatantly lie. "You know Josie, I really haven't figured it out myself. It's soo tricky. I mean, if he doesn't exist, then where do the presents come from?!" "Yeah, I know!" She looked relieved. Then after some careful thought, "I'm going to stay awake this Christmas and find out." "Well, let me know what you find out. I want to know the truth." "Okay, I'll tell you." Satisfied, she went back to eating her cheeseburger. And this is how I lied to a ten year-old today.

comeback

2005-11-29T16:35:00.000-08:00

I've been waiting for the chance when I had a good hunk of time to sit down and write a fascinating, new comeback post. Comebacks, in sports as in life, are only good when they are successful. However, in waiting, I've gone days without posting. A simple question about growing pains has lingered at the top of Sockparade-- as if to suggest that I've become ridden with teenage-angst (strange, given the fact that I've exited adolescence years ago). Contrary to what you might suspect when someone writes a one-line post and leaves for a few days, I have not slipped into depression, nor is there any need for Zoloft (pharmaceutical terminology courtesy of Sharky and her PTSD research paper). So instead of waiting for the time to write a heart-wrenching post, I'm doing what I think all good bloggers should do. Write, when it's easy, and when it's not. That's the beauty of a blog, isn't it? Writing your best when you can, and writing your worst because you can. Today was a day of simple pleasures. I stayed up well past my bedtime last night writing about the implications psychological research and emailing my long-distance fiance of two weeks. Two weeks of long-distance, not two weeks of fiancehood. So anyway I slept in this morning and skipped my 930 class. Simple pleasures. I ate lunch at DoubleDave's Food Cart on campus today because they have a Tuesday special where they sell two peproni [sic] rolls for a buck fifty instead of only one for a buck fifty. Good thing I saw the line forming beside the cart as I was on my way to O's Cafe for their fruit and walnut salad. Salad fralad. I also got my car inspected today which was advertised as a ten-minute ordeal but actually ended up as an hour and a half ordeal. On the bright side, the place I went to is Terry's Burnet Road Vehicle Inspection and judging from the paraphernalia on the wall he's some sort of Native American, hunts-with-a-crossbow, mechanic. Fascinating, really. The inspection itself took maybe 5 minutes but the wait was horrendous. I read the Daily Texan cover to cover. Twice. The cover story was about an Aggie that threw a shovel of horse feces at the Longhorn band during the game last weekend. A little disappointing in the world of news and more than slightly embarrassing for Aggies everywhere. Jennifer, if you're reading, you can put that on your cons list. Obnoxious Aggies mean that you will be guilty simply by association. I've been meaning to discuss a lot of things. Death, for one. I've also wanted to talk about the reported Xbox 360 crashes that Slashdot has been reporting but I didn't read very much into them because I was quickly distracted by reports of Xbox 360 thievery. Game consoles being ripped out of the hands of young children and couples mobbed in parking lots for their vouchers. I also wanted to talk about NBA.com and how you can stream videos (such as top ten plays of the day or top dunk of the night) from NBATV for free off their website and that it's been so good to me since I don't have cable. All these things and more. But today, I'll leave you with a simple observation. I was cleaning up the kitchen last night and I noticed that the bulb of garlic I had bought a week ago had sprouted some baby green shoots. I smiled. Here was a bulb of garlic that had half of it's bulbage hacked off and eaten and a week later it was still trying to grow new shoots. I don't know why, it reminded me of that poem I read in middle school by Julio Polanco about the tall, ugly weed that stands alone, strong and free. (I stopped quoting it in high school when I feared comparing myself to a tall, ugly weed would scare the boys away. But I'm fearlessly back to quoting it now.) Garlic's not exactly pretty. I don't take pictures of it before I cook it. This is where I don't know how to explain myself. It's not pretty, but the idea is just... beautiful. Getting parts of ourselves hacked off and still wanting to grow. Unfortunately that's not our first instinct. Our first instinct is to shrivel up. We're not simple like bulbs of garlic. We have unspoken thoughts, emotions, bitterness, anger, wounds, conflicted thoughts, you know, the whole mess of human nature. So we bump around and wallow a bit longer than we should. But the hope is that eventually you sort of come upon the realization that you've got to keep fighting for growth and for life. *Shrug* It's a bulb of garlic. Work with me, people. On an unrelated note: So long, Mr. Miyagi. Pat Morita was a special man indeed.

children

2005-11-22T14:31:00.000-08:00

At what age do you learn that best friends aren't forever?

hover chair for CEOs

2005-11-18T14:01:00.000-08:00

Working for Corporate America certainly has its perks. Introducing the 200-pound hover chair that floats on a few millimeters of air above the ground and glides across the floor with the touch of a button. Check out the quicktime video.

metric, good despite being from canadia

2005-11-15T15:53:00.000-08:00

I'm only kidding about this post's title. I like Canadians. Well, most Canadians. And yes, I know how to spell Canada. It's just more fun to say Canadia (pronounced cah-nay-dee-ah). I arrived early because I didn't buy tickets in advance and was afraid they would sell out. I had only found out about this band two days earlier from a coworker and had no idea how popular (or not popular) they were. Even from a distance I could see a short line forming on the sidewalk outside The Parish on 6th Street. Initially, the crowd was pretty sparse and uncomfortably young. While we waited for the opening band, The Lovely Feathers, to set up the stage, I was overcome with the underwhelming feeling that I was at a junior high dance rather than at a show. This feeling reached its peak when a preppy, dark-haired boy in a oversized Old Navy sweater asked the girl next me if she wanted some water from the bar. She graciously accepted his offer. As he walked away (with his wingman in tow), the thirsty girl and her friends squealed and giggled in delight. I could barely contain myself when the thirsty girl exasperatedly exclaimed, "See? It's just these mind games that he plays! I can't tell if he likes me!" Before I could hear the psychoanalysis from her friends that was sure to follow her confession of flirt confusion, The Lovely Feathers began to play their set. Thank You, Jesus. They were decent. Richard (pictured above on the left) was fairly charming while Mark (pictured above on the right) gyrated his pelvis a little too much for my liking. I was only a few gyrations away from feeling like I was at a Ricky Martin concert. This had nothing to do with the fact that he was wearing pink and white candy-striper pants. That's striper, not stripper, you gutterheads. Next up was Death of a Party. The music was fun and rowdy but not overly creative. At several points in their set, the lead singer, Gareth Lloyd, hopped off stage to dance and mingle with the crowd. My early arrival with the awkward high schoolers had paid off because I was pretty close to the stage and at one point Gareth actually danced with me! I tried to ignore the fact that he wasn't particularly attractive and had fun. Dancing to rock music is such an interesting art form. It quickly got weird when he palmed my head (especially since he was slightly shorter than me) but before I could protest, he was lifted up by some guys next to me and hoisted in a short crowd surf back onto the stage. If it wasn't for this exclusive photo I snapped while dancing next to him, I wouldn't have even mentioned this set. After what seemed like forever (a good cliche if there ever was one), they started to set up the stage for Metric. The process was elaborate as each microphone was carefully taped, each microphone checked, each guitar tuned and even strings of lights were draped over the speakers and synthesizer. A quick glance behind me told me that the crowd had grown considerably and there was even some pushing behind me as people vied for a better view of the stage. I chit-chatted with a lesbian couple that kept raving with childish excitement about how "fucking awesome" the show was going to be and how much they loved Metric. "It's all about the layers you know? You hear something different the second, third and fourth time you hear a song. God, this show is going to fucking rock!" Smiling politely (thanks Homer) I nodded in agreement and craned my neck to see if there were any signs of the show starting. The music started before the band actually came onstage... and the hour or so that followed was one of the most amazing musical experiences I've ever been a part of. Emily Haines singlehandedly charmed the crowd into loving her without reservation simply by dancing around the stage the way someone would in the privacy of their her own bedroom. It was terrific. At one point she snatched a flash-happy photographer's camera and threw it across the stage, admonishing them to "take it easy" between songs. Her annoyance with the fan continued even after the concert when she left the stage saying "take photographs with your eyes." The crowd just loved her all the more. I'm really not too sure what it was about her that was so great. Her heartbreakingly girlish vocals, her high-kick jigs, her sisterly interactions with the guitarist and bassist, how she closed her eyes when she sang, the way she let us sing parts of the songs and laughed when we were out of tune, the way she interlaced her fingers with raised hands from the crowds, and maybe even the way she headbanged. I don't know that many people that can headbang in a charming way. Here she is in black and white (the lighting was SO hard on my point 'n shoot, bear with me): Notice her uncanny resemblance to Dooce. Josh and Emily pretend like they aren't sure what song to play next: When they played "Combat Baby" during their encore, everyone in the place went nuts and the creaky wooden floor (we were on the third floor) shook so violently that I was afraid it was going to give. Talk about an awesome concert venue. And to give credit where credit is due, Metric would be nothing without its electrical guitarist, Jimmy Shaw (pictured below). This man was relentless on the guitar and pushed each song to greater heights. He wailed on the guitar like a madman, swelling our hearts past normalcy with euphoric strains of painful, electronic beauty. The guitar solos, oh, the guitar solos. Mindblowing, ear-bleeding, face-melting guitar solos. All of that to say, if you get the chance to see Metric live, do yourself a big favor and go. I'll leave you with a quote from Emily that I found on their website. "It's all just the idea of 'don't freak out,'" Emily explains. "Anything that happens to you is just your life getting lived. Sometimes it feels like we're afraid of events and action of any kind. But if you can get a little distance from it, it becomes an incredible adventure no matter how things turn out."

sorry, another post about the nano

2005-11-10T15:17:00.000-08:00

I setup my.yahoo.com to pickup Engadget's RSS feeds and every day I skim through the headlines to find the interesting ones that are actually worth reading. Ah, the beauty of RSS feeds. I had just put a big spoonful of milk and cereal into my mouth and almost snorted it out through my nose when I read the following headline: APPLE SHIPPING iPOD NANOS WITH CASES Apparently the iPod nano scratch lawsuit frenzy (read crybaby whining) is having an effect after all. Apple has begun to ship out new nanos with thin fabric sleeves to protect it from scratches. Personally I think it will just piss off the current iPod nano owners without cases. It's never a wise marketing move to punish early adopters. And on top of that, it serves as a sort of admission of guilt on Apple's design. One of the greatest things about living in America is that you rarely have to worry about being screwed over as a consumer by a large corporation. Lawsuits that you might not even be able to think up on your own will handsomely award you with monetary compensation and sincere apologies. In related news, I finally got an email saying that the case I ordered over a month ago from Speck Products has shipped out. Let's hope it's as "sexy"... uh, good, as it's advertised to be. ------------------------------------------- FYI, I'm trying out Blogger's new comment moderation functionality. It allows me to view all comments before they are posted. This gets rid of the word verification business that I'm not a fan of but makes sure that spam doesn't sneak in. So if you post a comment, unless I happen to be sitting in front of the computer, it won't be posted until I get a chance to review it and publish it. We'll see how it works.

shiba inu

2005-11-09T20:11:00.000-08:00

If I were to ever get a dog, it would look like this: Meet the Shiba Inu.

equal opportunity employer

2005-11-08T19:47:00.000-08:00

I hauled the heavy box of kitty litter from my shopping cart to the moving conveyor belt as the cashier rung up my smaller items: a gluestick, a package of Bic pens, and a bag Gala apples. Then I took a deep breath and heaved my 2.5 gallon container of Ozarka Spring Water up on the belt behind the kitty litter. I love places where I swipe my credit card, approve the amount, and sign, all on the same keypad. The grocery store is one of these places. If there's self-checkout, I'm doubly pleased. (Note: I do think believe that there should be some sort of self-checkout certification exam where those who can scan a certain number of items per minute can utilize a certified, express self-checkout lane. Those who are new to self-checkout or who are just painfully slow would be forced to practice on regular lanes.) I exchanged pleasantries with the cashier as we waited for the receipt to print. As I started to push my shopping cart towards the exit, a girl that was easily a foot shorter than me and nearly half my body weight asked me if I needed help with the groceries to my car. I was unsuccessful in suppressing a smirk and politely declined. HEB is definitely an EOE.

fear

2005-11-07T09:59:00.000-08:00

Am I the only one that gets slightly annoyed when people quote that statistic about people being more afraid of public speaking than death? Maybe it'd be different if public speaking was compared with the death of a loved one. I think most people normally struck by stagefright would give a rousing speech to a auditorium full of strangers if it was a life or death situation. I'm sorry. I'm not being fair. When people fill out those surveys they don't consider the finality and eternity of death. They're simply checking a box. You can't fault someone for not knowing what they really fear. I think I'm still figuring it out.

resolved: that

2005-11-03T10:01:00.000-08:00

This is what we call a pre-post. I'm posting for tomorrow because I know tomorrow will be too hectic. Who says I don't plan ahead?! Is wind power a viable energy alternative? Tom L. Lee, Ph.D. seems to think so and he writes about it here. A little known fact about me is that I spent two of my high school years on a debate team of misfits. It's not something I announce at cocktail parties and unless I'm forced to explain my familiarity with phrases such as "Lincoln-Douglas" or why I'm fond of flowcharts, it's an extra-curricular activity that I don't talk about. But if I'm really honest with myself, I know that being on that debate team did things to my personality that are forever irreversible. It explains why I am not bored by conversations about tired controversial issues like abortion, the electric chair, the future of the internet, civil rights, the Constitution, the economy, wars, the government (save for talk about specific politicians) and yeah, you've guessed it: alternative energy resources. (Random thought: I still remember when I rewatched Pretty Woman as a blossoming teenager and laughed my heart out at Julia's explanation for why she knew how to tie men's neckties. Now, I know how to tie neckties. While I certainly did not "fuck the debate team", tying my debate teammates ties is where I learned my useless skill.) So one year the CX debate topic of the year was alternative energy resources and I built a really solid case for wind power. It was beautiful because there was hardly anything substantial that you could attack it with. The "increase in death of birds that fly into the turbines" argument ended almost as quickly as it started. The "intermittent nature of wind" argument was easily overcome by theoretical power grids that could cover any lapses of dead air in any dead zones across the country. It's difficult to argue against theoretical technology. There hadn't been much research done at that time to disprove advocates of wind power so I had the upper hand. If you think about it, this whole wind power business is a pretty wild concept. I like the idea of everyone seeing a wooden windmill on a flat, open prairie and immediately scoffing at the primitive quality of it. And then Dr. Tom Lee comes along and says that we should build metal turbines that essentially replicate the traditional windmill and float them out in the ocean to give power to poor people in undeveloped countries like Africa. Science doesn't get much more romantic than that folks.

broadcast yourself

2005-11-01T22:01:00.000-08:00

YouTube. It's like Flickr, but for videos. Pretty much anyone can sign up and upload a homemade video to be publicly viewed. I'm sure if this website gets enough hits, there'll be copyright infringement issues as some people have taken to uploading music videos and the like, but until then, it's pretty much a free for all. As an aside, Quad4x, I noticed that you joined up with Flickr. I hope you'll enjoy it for more than just the ridiculous amount of storage space. Anyone can provide storage. Only Flickr can do certain things. Which reminds me that I haven't written the promised post about the glories of Flickr. I still intend to; I just want to do it justice. YouTube utilizes the ingenius feature of tagging which I think all media search engines will eventually catch on to. In fact, tagging is kind of how the human brain operates and I think if the "semantic web" ever reaches it potential, everything will be tagged. That's where XML is leading us, right? On a completely unrelated note, I read this Nikon200D review today and I'm in love. I think I might hold out and skip the whole Canon Rebel v. D70 dilemma to opt for this semi-prosumer cam.

hesitation

2005-10-31T22:40:00.000-08:00

when you open the door to a chilly draft and try to calculate if you have time to find a matching jacket, when you see the light turn yellow and you're an awkward distance away from the intersection, when you open your mouth to say something honest but your intuition tells you to shutup, when you see someone familiar but they walk by you so fast you aren't sure if you know them, when you've written an angry email and you hover your mouse pointer above the send button, when you have erased your answer so many times on a test that the scantron is starting to become thinner at the "a" and "c" bubbles, when you start falling in love but aren't ready to get hurt, when you've made a mistake but aren't sure how to recover gracefully, when the waiter asks for your order but you haven't made up your mind yet, when the skies crack open with thunder but you're having too much fun in the water, when you need to fart but there's too many people around to do it, when you want something but aren't sure how much you want it, when you're given a compliment and are trying to figure out if it's sincere, when someone cries and you aren't sure if they want to be touched, when you are watching television with strangers and aren't sure when to change the channel, when someone sneezes six times in a row and you aren't sure whether you should say "bless you" all six times or just once, when you haven't shaved your legs and you have to wear shorts unexpectedly, when you know it's way past your bedtime and you stumble across a really interesting website, when your mom asks you if there's anything you need to tell her and you aren't sure where to begin, when you know you're about to ruin a friendship but you don't know how to avoid it, when you're telling a story and you realize it's not the least bit funny and no one is going to laugh at the end, when you call someone to irresponsibly cancel your plans with them, when you've swallowed one nasty pill and need to swallow another one, when you realize that you can't fit into your old pants anymore because of your growing waistline, when you look at old pictures of yourself in fascination or horror or maybe a little bit of both, when you wake up in the morning and don't want the day to start, when you've poured yourself a bowl of milk but aren't sure what cereal you want to go with it, when you are zipping up your luggage and have an uneasy feeling that you've forgotten to pack something, when you catch a glimpse of yourself in a building's reflection, when someone asks you about your happiness, when you know you should make a doctor's appointment but haven't, when you put a whole piece of sushi in your mouth and realize too late that it's too big of a piece, when you have a pick a wedgie and have no convenient place to do it, when you aren't sure what kind of advice you should give a friend without sounding like a know-it-all, when you don't know what songs you should put on your iPod because you don't know what mood you'll be in tomorrow-- but most of all, when you have to face a November like mine.

ay, there's the rub

2005-10-31T12:46:00.000-08:00

I got a really great "construction discount" on my monthly rent when I first signed my apartment lease and I thought I was really lucky because I sleep right through 7am sawing and drilling. Today I found out that I'm not so lucky. I found the following letter jammed in the door crack when I came home from work today: Dear Residents, Your building will be de-scaled starting November 8, 2005 at 9:00AM and expected to be completed on November 10, 2005 at 6:00PM. During this process, you will not be able to use hot or cold water - kitchen and bath faucets, tub or shower faucets, dishwashers, and washing machines can not be used until you have received written notification that it is safe. The use of toilets will still be permitted. Vacant apartments will be made available for showering purposes and drinking water will be provided. Please contact the office for scheduling of access to vacant units. We realize this is an inconvenience, but please bear with us as we restore good hot water pressure to each and every apartment. Now that the water softeners are in place, after this process is completed, we should have no more water temperature or pressure problems. Thank you for your patience and cooperation while we work to make this apartment complex a better place to call home. You will receive further detailed instructions later in the week. ------------------------------------------------------------ What a rainy Monday. In more ways than one. Also, I lost the war to the p0rn spammers and I turned on word verification for the comments. Sorry folks, there was just too much spam and I couldn't manually delete it all anymore.

student of the week

2005-10-25T19:07:00.000-07:00

I can't remember what grade we did this in but maybe it wasn't just my elementary school and maybe you can tell me what grade it was. Every week it was someone's turn to be the student of the week. What did this mean? Well, it meant that a large bulletin board in the classroom would be dedicated solely to you and your life. You could bring anything to decorate it. Pictures, ribbons, and certificates of achievement. There was also a small table underneath the bulletin board that you could cover with life-changing mementos like trophies, souvenirs and prized possessions. In any case, this was pretty much every kid's dream week because for a whole five days, your life was proudly on display for all the other students to envy. It was like show and tell, but you would be the only one that got to share and it lasted for a whole week. I dreaded this week. With each passing week, the bulletin board would be covered in pictures from family vacations to childhood fantasy destinations such as Disneyworld and Hawaii. Every day I would go home and try to find neat or interesting objects around my house in hopes of fooling others into thinking I was actually leading the most exciting life. As you can see, I was competitive from an early age. I think I was embarrassed to not have a normal kid life. I frantically pleaded with my mom to provide cool things I could bring to class and when she couldn't, I was so heartbroken. Looking back I think I probably brought the most interesting things but I just couldn't see it at the time. I remember bringing a preserved flesh-eating Pirana that we got from Brazil complete with sharp pointed teeth and yellowed eyes. I brought Brazilian and Taiwanese currency because that was the coolest thing my mom could find in her desk. (Incidentally, I sold the Brazilian paper money for 20 US dollars to some kid. A few days later the kid's mom found out and I was forced to give the money back. If you know anything about Brazil's inflation rate, I was very shrewd in business, even in elementary school.) I brought a Chinese school report card because that was the only extra-curricular activity I was involved in. I brought in a picture of my baby sister because I didn't have any pets and she was the closest thing to it. (Kidding, Sharky.) And I also brought some piano trophies and Chinese speech trophies. I didn't think any of it was as cool as pictures taken at Disneyworld or Hawaii and really couldn't wait until my week was over. How foolish. I wish I had the wisdom back then to realize the greatness of my childhood. Who was better off? My friend Veronica Matovich who didn't know where her dad was but always had a season pass to Astroworld? Or me-- the awkward kid enamored with preserved Pirahnas from foreign countries? (My teachers must have worried about me.) I clearly remember the time in 2nd grade when this guy challenged me to a drawing contest that would be judged by our friends. I, being the cocky kid I was, said that he could pick any subject. He picked a rose (what a fruitcake) and I went home in tears asking my mom to teach me how to draw a rose because I didn't know how to draw any flowers. She didn't even scold me for agreeing to a drawing contest but instead spent the rest of the evening practicing rose drawing with me. I won the contest and it was a great victory for Finnegan's self-esteem but I know I would have lost if it weren't for my mom. I don't know where I'm going with this. What I wanted to say is that I had a fan-bloody-tastic childhood. It just doesn't show up well on bulletin boards and small tables.

bandwagon

2005-10-24T13:59:00.000-07:00

Having my hometown Houston Astros contend in the World Series hasn't really ignited a burning passion for baseball. In fact, what it has really done is bring to light my apathy for baseball. I mean, I do hope they win. But I don't plan on losing any sleep if they don't. I have a question. Why is it called the World Series? Last time I checked, only American teams were competing. Oh, and of course the few Canadia teams. But it's still the North American continent. Same goes for basketball. Let's call it what it is. National Series. National Champions.

the CIA emailed me today

2005-10-20T18:21:00.000-07:00

They're offering me an interview. The CIA is. Here's an excerpt from the job description: All applicants must successfully complete a thorough medical and psychological exam, a polygraph interview and an extensive background investigation. US citizenship is required. Too bad it's in Washington, D.C or else I'd seriously consider it. If even just for the bragging rights. How many CIA agents do you know? I'd really like to see how I'd do on the psychological exam and polygraph interview. Oh and, they adapted everyone's favorite dysfunctional family, The Simpsons, for Arab television. Simpsons for the Arabs. I'm not even kidding. Read all about it here. Many thanks to Slashdot for the tipoff. So yeah, as you can see, it's been an exciting day.

a manifesto, not mine

2005-10-19T18:57:00.000-07:00

I met up a pal at Bookpeople today. I had already piled up a dangerously high armload of books to purchase but just as we were approaching the checkout counter, my friend pointed out a paperback book with a blank, white cover. And when I say blank, I mean BLANK. Not a single word, picture, or smudge. Intrigued, we picked it up and thumbed through it. Carefully tucked inside Pg. 57 was a flyer. The flyer includes the first page of the novel which I have included here for you:

MANIFESTO

I hated school. I hated work. I hated boredom. I had no interests. I had a happy childhood. There was school, adolescence, growing up, questions about the future. I was twenty-one. I had no dream.

I dropped in and out of college. After three years I wasn't going back.

Students sat on lawns, drank coffee, held books, discussed ideas, wore expensive sandals and footwear. Professors taught classes on campus greens. Students basked in youth, in the fine times of college. I was told I'd meet my friends for life in college.

Everywhere people smoked, sat on wide steps of academic buildings, enjoyed the outdoors together, like people in glossy-paged catalogues.

I hated college atmosphere.

I left college for the last time as impulsively as ever--free and happy--like I had a bottomless pocket of money, fully funded, like my lungs were fresh and I could still run a mile in under six minutes.

Cars passed slow with the wind brushing up my hair. I listened to the dusty dirt on the bottoms of my new leather shoes. I felt slow like a fish underwater, like a soft cloud pulled along.

I was content to be slow, away from the vague traps between cause and effect.

Birds made noise along the roadsides, up high in the light-green pine needles. I smelled the sandy heat. When I closed my eyes I believed I had a grand future; I had no problems; the past didn't matter.

I was going to make my life an adventure.

I hated being told I needed health insurance. I was sick of car insurance; tired of people that told me to go back to school, earn the degree, make something of my life.

People went to college and got what they paid for. I hated the relationship, the equation, the vending machine dispensing crinkly-packaged candies and chips.

I didn't want a high-paying job. I hated jobs. I didn't want an obvious life.

Needless to say, I bought the book. It was only five dollars. If you're curious about the book, check out the anonymous author's website. On a lighter note, we also stumbled across the following book in the new arrivals section and spent a frighteningly long time giggling at its contents: Just another friendly reminder that greatness comes in various forms.

it's a small world after all

2005-10-18T20:21:00.000-07:00

Tonight I found out that my defensive driving instructor lives in my apartment complex. Ho-hum.

apple

2005-10-17T14:49:00.000-07:00

Lately, it seems like you can count on Apple to do things right. Quicktime 7 is just absolutely stunning and the movie trailers and music videos that the Apple website offer are my weekly guilty pleasure. The design and packaging of all things Apple speaks for itself quite proudly. From the clean white lines in their retail store to the all black dress code of its geniuses, the feeling of being around Apple products is inexplicably a good one. The iPod nano came simply and elegantly packaged in a special black iPod bag. This is only typical corporate behavior when you're selling products to middle aged women (think perfume) or when the founder of your company took Calligraphy classes in college. Save for the lack of a progress bar in its miniplayer view, iTunes is a very well thought-out media program I will say that Winamp and MusicMatch Jukebox and a handful of other programs were on the right track long before iTunes came about but no one has been able to integrate everything so well what with Podcasts and mp3 downloading. Don't get me started on Podcasts or you'll end up sitting here for the next 2 hours. The iPod nano has proven the loyalty of Apple customers. The mp3 market is oversaturated with countless numbers of tech companies trying to manufacture smaller and slicker looking mp3 players and yet Apple consistently sells out of their newest product. You have customers who own all iPods or who will Ebay their current iPod just to own the newest gadget. The operating system of an Apple desktop and/or laptop is tough in all the right places. Not the GUI but the actual building blocks of it. I personally detest the GUI but it's a small complaint and a personal preference. Kudos to Apple for the security of Safari and the virtually seamless processing afforded by Tiger. Even simple add-ons such as Dashboard and downloadable widgets add to Apple's abundant charm. Today my iPod nano was acting up again. About a week ago, the iPod would not shut off. I would hold the pause/play button down without being able to turn it off. Resetting the iPod didn't do anything. I had planned to go to the store to replace it but by nightfall, it was back in working condition. I did what I usually do. Shrug and go on with my life. However, this morning, it happened again. I drove straight from work to the mall hoping that the problem would still exist by the time I got there. When I first got in this guy tried turning it off and he couldn't either and suggested that I get in line for the "Genius Bar." He fiddled with it a bit more and then said, "Oh! It's working now." And so then I asked rather sheepishly, "So... will you be here when I talk to the tech because what if the problem doesn't show up again?" He chuckled at me and reassured me that the tech would believe me and I wouldn't have to prove the problem to them. I spent an hour and a half waiting in line for the "Genius Bar." Can I say right now that I don't like that name? Everytime someone asked me if I had been helped I had to explain that I was waiting for the GB and I felt downright silly. I played a Harry Potter computer game for a good half hour in the kids section and then just surfed Slashdot, Engadget, and CNN on their gorgeous widescreen flatpanel monitor for an hour. I was there so long this Mac Specialist started reading over my shoulder at some zany CNN news. Apparently Sylvester Stallone is coming out with Rocky VI. He thought this was hilarious and pulled me over to another computer to show me on IMDB that Stallone was also coming out with Rambo IV. He then told me that they were making Roadhouse 2. Having not seen Roadhouse the original, I smiled politely and checked my place in line for the GB. Before you start feeling sorry for me and wondering why I would write a post praising Apple after having an brand new iPod malfunction, waiting an hour and a half in the store and being forced to maintain meaningless chitchat with people in all black clothing, you should know that it's all worth it because they completely replaced my iPod. Yep, just like that. I had the good luck (or bad luck) of the iPod malfunctioning on me with the tech and he just handed me a new one. Now the only problem is... I named my old iPod, Seymour. Can I still call the new one Seymour or is that irreverent? In high school I would have typed: *grin* to end this post.

fashionphone

2005-10-14T14:38:00.000-07:00

Haha, this is pretty hilarious. The perfect Friday post. Basically Samsung and Bang & Olufsen teamed up to come up with this new "fashionphone." What a waste of time. Read Engadget's stylistically satiric review here.

i shouldn't be surprised

2005-10-13T18:03:00.000-07:00

Racial profiling. It's a topic that's talked about so much that when someone mentions the phrase everyone within earshot rolls their eyes, sighs, and shifts their attention to something more interesting-- like the dirt underneath their fingernails or the stray thread on the hem of their pants. Same thing happens with other phrases like "affirmative action", "war on terrorism", and "Sarbanes-Oxley." Hah oh wait, that last one is just for accounting students. So I know I shouldn't be surprised by racist comments while attending a public university in Texas of all places-- but I am. Boy, I really am. I was in my Criminal Justice class and we were talking about racial profiling performed by law enforcement and how most agencies have tried their best to eliminate this practice completely. And then this girl named Bridget who sits next to me every day slips her hand in the air motioning that she has something important to say. I've tried to represent what she said to the best of my memory.

"Well I remember a few years ago about how there was a car full of black males driving around Katy one day. I don't know if you know the Katy area but it's predominantly white and it's a pretty rich, upper-middle-class area. Anyway, these guys were just driving around, circling the neighborhood with no real purpose and then they drove up to this house where two high school kids were hanging out in the front yard. I think it was a brother and his sister. The guys in the car asked the high schoolers for directions and when the brother approached the car, someone pulled out a gun and shot him dead right there on the street. Now, in a situation like that, would it be so wrong for a police officer to stop that car full of black males? Because if they had been stopped maybe it wouldn't have happened."

The class collectively snickered and scoffed at her question. To the professor's relief, several people spoke up against her, pointing out the racist implications of her question. Should police officers then pull over any black people driving in white neighborhoods? Since when did the actions of a few individuals incriminate the entire race? Can you imagine being worried about being pulled over while driving in the "wrong" neighborhoods because your race wasn't the predominant race of that particular? I still can't believe she said that. She didn't even say it maliciously. She said it so innocently and genuinely that even right now I'm shaking my head in disbelief. It's incidents like this that make me think that the world will always be ignorant.

the stuff movies are made of

2005-10-12T21:59:00.000-07:00

I drink at least 4 nine-ounce bottles of Ozarka Spring Water (or the equivalent) each day. I'm somewhat of a camel. You may not be aware of this but Ozarka Spring Water Company has recently changed their bottled water caps. I actually stumbled across this development a week ago when I stopped into a gas station but didn't think much of it. And then two days ago I bought a 24-pack of Ozarka Natural Spring Water and noticed that all the caps were translucent instead of white. I don't know many chemical engineers and the few I do know work with pharmaceuticals and petroleum instead of plastics. Is translucent plastic cheaper than white plastic? Why the change? I don't think it's visually different enough to be a marketing decision. Someone please enlighten me. So a few months ago the idea of Saint Bernard rescue dogs having a small barrel of hot chocolate on their collar came to my mind. I tried explaining this without sounding silly but it was futile. It makes sense though. When a rescue dog finds a victim under ten feet of snow, I could see how a little barrel of hot chocolate could warm someone up and save them from hypothermia. I couldn't remember where I had learned such a thing and the best guess I could make was maybe some sort of cartoon Saint Bernard rescue dog. Someone suggested that it was actually alcohol in the barrel. I've Google-ed my heart out to find that it was most likely never really used. Here's an explanation taken from Joe Kissell's Interesting Thing of the Day:

As for the barrel on the collar, it first appeared in a painting by artist Edwin Landseer called Alpine Mastiffs Reanimating a Distressed Traveler in 1820; Landseer was only 17 at the time. The cask was thought to contain brandy and quickly caught on in the public imagination, though the monks and their dogs never actually used such a thing. (Alcohol, after all, could hasten dehydration, not a good treatment for a snowbound traveler.) Nowadays, that little barrel could prove more useful as a carrying case for a GPS receiver and a cell phone, giving the next generation of St. Bernards updated rescue capabilities more suitable to the modern age. And, if the helicopter is on its way anyhow, maybe a wee nip of brandy wouldn't be so bad after all.

In other news, I was offered a full-time job in Houston today. I also watched Tim Burton's Corpse Bride with my two favorite ten-year olds tonight. Okay. Uh, oh, yes. One, uh, minor note here. The boyfriend proposed last night and I said yes. I'm officially engaged. ----------------------------------------------------------- This post was written in honor of Sherriff Woody from Pixar's Toy Story. The transcript for the related scene has been copied here for your reference:

Okay, first item today... Uh, oh, yeah--has everyone picked a moving buddy? -What? -Moving buddy? You can't be serious. -Well, I didn't know we were supposed to have one already. -Do we have to hold hands? Oh, yeah. You guys think this is a big joke. We've only got one week left before the move. I don't want any toys left behind. A moving buddy. If you don't have one, get one! All right, next. Uh, oh, yes. Tuesday night's plastic corrosion awareness meeting... was, I think, a big success, and we want to thank Mr. Spell for putting that on for us. -Thank you, Mr. Spell. -You're welcome. Okay. Uh, oh, yes. One, uh, minor note here. Andy's birthday party has been moved to today. [mass pandemonium]

oneida flatware

2005-10-10T21:58:00.000-07:00

You may know the surname Oneida for being the largest supplier of dinnerware to the food service industry. A glimpse at their history proves to be much more fascinating than just the manufacture of silver-plated flatware. Here are my notes from a recent lecture. I tried to confirm these notes with resources online and while there are some minor differences, the general gist of the Oneida history remains undisputed. In short, the Oneida community is one of the few recorded instances of a functioning group marriage in the United States. group marriage -- Traditionally, this term refers to the marriage of two or more men simultaneously to two or more women. When homosexuals and/or bisexuals are included, group marriage could consist of any four or more people of any gender. -Oneida community was founded by John Noyes in upstate New York in the 1820s -Noyes did not like traditional marriages because he didn't think there should be so much devotion to one other person as it distracted people from their devotion to the community (and some may speculate, from their devotion to Noyes) -While there was open sexual access between men and women, long-term relationships were prohibited -Women couldn't initiate sexual relationships but women could say "yes" or "no" to invitations -There was a designated liaison between the men and the women who would arrange sexual encounters -In the beginning a sexual encounter meant spending a night together and it was later reduced to 2 hours -At first pregnancies were not allowed but reproduction was later systematically addressed -Members of the community could apply to be parents and applicants would be matched with newborns -Noyes ensured that there was no special link between biological parent and child as it would also be a distraction from devotion to the community -Child-rearing specialists were given much of the responsibility for raising the children -Noyes himself was the father of a large proportion of the children in the community -Oneida community lasted for 30 years -The community finally dissolved as outside pressure started to mount and Noyes began to lose control of the community due to old age -Most members of the community paired off into conventional marriages ------------------------------------------------------------ Did anyone ever read that children's book, The Giver by Lois Lowry? That's what this reminds me of. Applying to be a parent? Child specialists? I have no idea how a community like this could last for 30 years. The jealousy and drama alone (that I assume must have been rampant) would tear most groups apart in weeks. Was Noyes simply that charismatic of a leader? I suppose if Hitler could convince people that genocide is justified, Noyes could convince people that monogamy is a sin. It's just kind of unsettling to recognize how powerful charisma can be.

hope

2005-10-06T09:59:00.000-07:00

I hope this is the year.

myspace dot com

2005-10-05T09:59:00.000-07:00

So I have a myspace account. Now before you get the wrong idea, I don't really use it. The only reason I signed up was because Pete Yorn has a myspace account and he adds you if you request to be his friend. At this point I should make it clear that I'm aware that it's probably a corporate Columbia Records drone who's doing all the friend adding. But the idea of being listed as Pete Yorn's friend was so great to me that I actually went through the trouble of signing up for an account. I even added my old Flickr icon, which is a goofy picture of myself, in hopes of meeting Pete one day and having him recognize me. (I'm not really that kind of fan, but sometimes I like to pretend that I am.) Anyway, Pete Yorn announced his next tour (which only consists of 2-3 shows) and I wanted to send him a message pleading with him to come to Texas. I went to my account, logged in (thank God Firefox remembers passwords), and sent him a message. Then I noticed there were some messages in my inbox. This seemed odd to me because I don't really use myspace and I don't know anyone that does. Here are the messages (complete with profile pics): Date: Jun 18, 2005 1:21 AM Subject: Hey Body: Very cute pic of you! Where is your info? Did you just sign up? Sam Date: Jun 19, 2005 1:41 AM Subject: Hello Body: Hi ya! How long have you been living in Austin? What do you like to do for fun? Date: Oct 5, 2005 1:55 PM Subject: add em up Body: hello like your picture. noticed you have two myspace friends. I have double the amount you have. haha nothing to important but add me i'll add you and get rid of me when ever you want later ------------------------------------------------------------------ You can readily see why I don't really use myspace much. It's a little too much like "hot or not" for comfort. According to Alexa, it's the 8th most visited English site. (Thanks San for the Alexa link.) Its high ranking makes me wonder if myspace will eventually take over this whole blogging/networking thing. Part of me says no because there are too many tech savvy people who want well designed personal websites but myspace has a lot of built in features that are kind of nice. I can especially see why an indie band would want a myspace account. And I can say all this without having even used the website much. I guess we'll just have to sit and watch a little longer. I do believe that one day virtually everyone in the US will have a personal website.

trivial matters

2005-10-04T21:07:00.000-07:00

VERSUS What a dilemma. State Fair of Texas in Dallas complete with Pig Races, Cotton Candy, Corn Dogs, and Auto Show OR Buzzfest concert in Minute Maid Park featuring bands like Nickelback, Seether, Audioslave, and Yellowcard? I only have one free weekend to go to either of these and both options are very tempting.

kwik-wash coin laundry

2005-10-03T13:36:00.000-07:00

I’ve never blogged remotely before but there’s a first for everything I suppose. I’m at a Kwik-Wash Coin Laundry on the wrong side of Austin on Justin Lane. I would prefer the Spin Cycle Laundromat on Guadalupe because it has washers that hold up to 5 loads and it’s clean and spacious but I used Citysearch to look for something closer to home. So I pulled into this one and it’s the kind of place with people hanging around the front. They sit on old milk crates or even just on the curb smoking cigarettes and shooting the breeze. I would think twice about getting out of my car if it were dark but it’s still broad daylight so I parked and hauled my clothes inside. The air conditioning is nice and strong here and it reminds me a lot of the laundromat we used to own in Pasadena.

Laundromats are incredibly romantic to me. I’m not sure why. I’ve probably seen too many movies. The scene that especially comes to mind is the part in My Life Without Me when Mark Ruffalo sits there in a completely non-creepy way watching Sarah Polley sleep. You know, the way only Mark Ruffalo could.

I like the rows and rows of dryers and washers and how everything looks the same. I think it’s the same reason I like rows of packaged foods at grocery stores.

So why is it romantic? I think there’s something incredibly intimate about two people sharing such a basic life chore. I think it’s more romantic than a candlelight dinner or a night at the theater or even a night picnic. It’s romantic because it means you’ve gotten past the “date phase” and now you’re just sharing your life together. You have your hair pulled back in a frazzled ponytail, you’re in your workout clothes because you’re washing all your normal clothes and he’s in an undershirt and sweatpants. It’s comfortable.

And yeah I think it can be kind of a cool place even when you’re alone. There’s a special segment of the population who go to Laundromats. People who don’t live in fancy condos or middle class houses with Whirlpool washers and dryers. It’s either the starving artists and musicians or the hard working blue-collar Joe trying to make ends meet. And college students. You know, all the dreamers. For all you know, you could be washing your unmentionables right beside the next, undiscovered, Elliott Smith.

I’m derailing. I’m going to jump off the train before it gets too incoherent.

email from the university

2005-09-30T17:54:00.000-07:00

From: Erle Janssen To: GroupMail distribution Cc: Subject: Urgent: Students touching bats near EPS -----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- If you touched a bat near E.P. Schoch (EPS) on Tuesday, September 27, 2005, you need to immediately contact the Austin/Travis Country Health Services at 972-6055 or The Texas Department of State Health Services at 254-778-6744. If your phone contact is outside normal working hours, please leave a message and phone number. State "you were exposed to a bat Tuesday at UT-Austin and were advised to contact them." These messages are monitored and calls returned every few hours. If you wish to talk to someone at UT Austin, please page 875-0911. Erle Janssen CIH Director Environmental Health & Safety The University of Texas at Austin P.O. Box 7729, Austin, Texas 78713 phone 512-471-3511 fax 512-471-6918 ------------------------------------------- Haha man. Didn't they teach you not to touch wild animals back in third grade? And I'm assuming the bats were dead because it's pretty difficult to pet a flying bat. Maybe college educations really are overrated.

mirrormask

2005-09-29T21:38:00.000-07:00

Step One: Read the synopsis.

"This is the story of Helena (Stephanie Leonidas), a fifteen-year-old girl working for her family circus, who wishes - quite ironically - that she could run away from the circus and join real life. But such is not to be the case, as she finds herself on a strange journey into the Dark Lands, a fantastic landscape filled with giants, monkeybirds and dangerous sphinxes. On her quest to return home, Helena searches for the Mirrormask, an object of enormous power, which is her only hope of escaping the Dark Lands."

Step Two: Watch the trailer. Step Three: Decide whether you want to watch it and find out if it's showing at a theater near you. It scares me a little. The trailer does. I'm definitely intrigued though. Referenced as The Wizard of Oz of our generation and there have been similarities drawn between this movie and Labyrinth. Both of those movies scared me as well. I like that though, the eerie quality of fantastical kind of movies. I feel deep, deep down that's the backdrop of most of my favorite movies. An underlying darkness that isn't obviously revealed. Some examples of that are Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Moulin Rouge, and Sin City. I tend to avoid the obviously revealed darkness such as the Ring series and all Japanese horror. So yeah, it'll be interesting to see if it's any good or whether it'll just be another special effects demonstration. I wouldn't go to another city to watch it (like I did for Station Agent) but I think I'll check it out at Dobie.

nobody said anything about bandanas

2005-09-28T18:25:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else feel like they still have dust lingering in their lungs? I think that was my first and last attendance at ACL Festivus. Granted, I didn't do it up right with the 3-day in-and-out pass but the heat was just ridiculous. It's plain and simple, really. I just don't like music that much. Anyone want to go to Coachella next year? Imagine watching awesome bands with 70 degree breezes blowing through your hair and sprawling on lush grass instead of itchy crabgrass. Imagine breathing clean air instead of inhaling what seemed like inhaling directly from the collection bag of an old Hoover vaccuum. Having a hard time imagining it? Yeah, me too.

red number day

2005-09-27T14:51:00.000-07:00

The temperature readout in my system tray (supplied by WeatherBug) turns red whenever it goes above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. It's been red a little too often lately. In other news, I wanted to share this tidbit from my Criminal Justice textbook (Criminal Justice, James A. Inciardi, 7th Edition). Just to give you the context in which this was written, this particular section of the textbook discusses the international differences in modesty and legal consequences. In the excerpt, France's favorable reaction to the miniskirt fad in the 1960's is juxtaposed with that of the rest of the world.

In Rome, women in miniskirts were not permitted to enter Vatican City.
In Venezuela, churches put up signs telling women to give up their minis or "be condemned to hell."
In Egypt, women in minis were subject to arrest on a charge of indecent behavior. The law was passed after two women wearing miniskirts caused a 2-hour traffic jam in downtown Cairo.
In Greece, wearing a miniskirt was a criminal offense.
At Disneyland, the miniskirt was outlawed. Gatekeepers measured the distance from a woman's knee to her hemline, refusing entrance if the distance wasn't deemed appropriate.
In Rio de Janeiro, a 63-year-old man on a bus was overcome when a young woman in a mini sat down next to him and crossed her legs. He bit her on the thigh, was arrested, and was sent to jail for 3 days.

Be careful who you cross your legs next to.

unprepared

2005-09-21T20:56:00.000-07:00

Kia was crawling all over my books while I was trying to study earlier and when I pushed her off, I also caused her to knock over a tall plastic tumbler of water all over my bed. Water soaked my mail holder (which was holding a lot of mail), my memory foam pillow, my comforter, my bedsheets and my mattress. I tore off all the bed coverings and laid them around my apartment to dry. Later, my closet rod collapsed. Clothes spilled onto the floor of my closet and some slipped off of their hangers. Apparently one of the plastic rod holders attached to the wall of the closet couldn't bear the weight of the clothes and snapped-- causing the whole rod to fall. I bent the plastic holder back into place with my hand but when I let go, the plastic went back to its sorry, broken, shape. I stood there surveying the situation for a few quiet moments. Then I stepped back, closed the closet door and walked away. You would think with the technology and money we have, there'd be some way to effectively stop a hurricane. I'm not a meteorologist but... what could stop a hurricane? Change in water temperature? A bomb of some sort? Can we not look at the circumstances under which a hurricane thrives and then devise some sort of super instrument that could take away one of those crucial elements? I hope to God we don't experience the worst-case-scenario because contrary to what Ricky has been telling the newsies, I don't think Texas is prepared. We might minimize the injuries and deaths and we should be able to avoid anarchy, but the property losses and damages are where we're really going to hurt. Judging by the ridiculous number of phone calls we got today at the small insurance brokerage house (where I work part-time) about last-minute home insurance policies... it's going to hurt reeal bad.

rita, and i don't mean wilson

2005-09-20T20:26:00.000-07:00

My mom reported to me today that the supermarket she went to this afternoon was completely out of bottled water. She said that the people there were acting crazy, as if the world was coming to an end. The media is doing a fantastic job of running "highlight" reels from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina causing everyone within a stone's throw of Galveston to be in a tizzy. Those who live near Galveston (as well as those who have heard of Galveston's dirty beaches and reside nowhere near it) have also joined in the mass panic. A mandatory evacuation order has been issued for the humble little island. You can read a brief overview of Hurricane Rita here. Clear Creek Independent School District has cancelled school for a week in fear of Hurricane Rita. My kid sister must be ecstatic. Middle school and high school kids across the district will post three times as many Xanga entries because of this. My dad reassured me that they have over a dozen bottles of Ozarka in the pantry and that they were fine. He said that even if anything were to happen, he was sure the US government would be ready to help them out. My dad may be one of the most patriotic men I know. The history books have it wrong. Immigrants make the most patriotic citizens, not those born on American soil. The boyfriend is currently packing all his family's important belongings into a minivan and moving the remaining household goods to the second floor of the house. I had to choose which books of mine I felt were minivan-worthy. He and his family plan to evacuate the house completely by Thursday. Several of his neighbors already evacuated tonight. It's easy to throw out words like evacuees and refugees when you're not directly affected. Today, it's hitting a little too close to home.

everything or nothing

2005-09-19T16:54:00.000-07:00

I still remember the first time I played DOOM on the family computer in middle school. I remember screaming with my sisters every time a monster popped out in front of us and squealing with laughter as we frantically shot at the monster. Unfortunately, I always got really dizzy and nauseous after playing. Years later, after playing 007's GoldenEye on Nintendo 64 and getting the same sick sensations, I concluded that first person shooting games were out of the question for me. Over the years I've tried to get over the motion sickness. I somehow trained myself to tolerate longer and longer periods of playing without getting a headache. This was practiced by playing countless hours of Perfect Dark with my kid sister on that same Nintendo 64 console. It took us forever to learn how to do the Data Uplink mission. Recently, I came across this 007 Bond game titled "Everything or Nothing." Games have come a long way since Perfect Dark and GoldenEye! My goodness. The graphics and gameplay are jaw dropping to me. This particular game actually incorporates real voice talent with all the movie stars (even down to Judi Dench!). It's called "Everything or Nothing" and has left me scratching my head, wondering if I missed a Bond movie release. The opening minutes of the game were simply mesmorizing for me. I was especially drawn to it because of the 3rd person perspective which significantly helps the motion sickness. Now I haven't played too many adventure video games and I honestly don't know what the standard is, but this game really impressed me. It reminds me a lot of the Metal Gear Solid series with a lot of variation in how you want to approach each mission and plenty of interaction with the surroundings (although not nearly as much as MGS). The multiplayer function is a whole lot of fun and it's fairly difficult. Instead of just going in and blasting away like DOOM, a lot of it is about stealth, strategy and teamwork. The voice talent is a nice touch as well as the beautiful graphics. I've attached a few screenshots for your viewing pleasure. I haven't gotten to the bike stage but it looks pretty sweet doesn't it? So this may be really unimpressive for a lot of video game heads out there but I've been out of the loop and my reentry has been eye-opening. I really applaud the video game companies out there for making such drastic advancements. I can only imagine what the next generation with Xbox 360 and PS3 is going to bring. Speaking of video games, I saw the movie trailer for DOOM in the theater the other day and had to try not to spit out my soda. Especially the part where the person is running and you see it from a first person perspective with the gun slightly wavering back and forth... you know, like the video game. They even had a scene complete with the chainsaw. Blech. Have we completely run out of movie ideas or what? Let's stick to the comic book movies before we go to video game movies. Next thing you know we'll be having Grand Theft Auto, coming soon to a theater near you. On a side note, ACL Fest artists are on heavy rotation this week for me. Who's all going and what band are you most excited to see?!? If you say Coldplay you don't deserve to go to ACL Fest. Surrender your day pass. (Hah, only kidding dude.) I'm excited about getting me some venison sausage wrap and funnel cake. Let's just hope the weather forecast clears up.

late adopter

2005-09-16T13:15:00.000-07:00

iPod Nano. I want one. I've been wanting to post this since it was released but haven't had a chance to until now. This is the first time I've wanted something from Apple. As crazy as this sounds, I felt the iPod was too big. I didn't care for the Easter colors of the iPod Mini and I didn't like how the iPod Shuffle didn't have a screen. The Nano is just right. You know, like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. The only question left is whether to get the black or white one. Here's an entertaining review from these two goofballs who drove a car over it and dropped it from various heights to perform their own version of durability tests.

"Sony WALKMAN, available in two capacity sizes - 20GB (NW-A3000) and 6GB (NW-A1000), also features two new shuffle functions. By selecting ÂMy Favorite ShuffleÂ, the device automatically selects the most listened to 100 songs and plays them at random. The ÂTime Machine ShuffleÂ function randomly selects a year and plays all of the songs from that particular year that are currently held on the device."

Sony's revamped Walkman might be too little too late. I do enjoy the seamless way the screen blends with the rest of the player. They wasted WAY too much time on their MD line. P.S. What's up with all the low-quality pictures of the iPod Nano in the gallery?

the miracle worker

2005-09-14T22:05:00.000-07:00

I don't really know how to say this in a politically correct way so I'm just going to come out and say it. I have a blind TA for my Criminal Justice class and I am so fascinated by her. The fascination was immediate. Unfortunately, I have not had many interactions with people who are blind. This is actually surprising given the proximity of the Texas School of for the Blind and Visually Impaired. The fascination increased tenfold when the Professor asked her when she would be holding office hours and I saw her running her fingers over what I assumed was Braille on sheets of paper that were in her binder. She's young, pretty, and full of life. She has a really infectious smile and she smiles with the confidence of a toothpaste commercial actress. She's a mix between a young Jackie Onassis and a skinny Mary Lou Retton. Classic. The bottom line is that I really admire her. Even if she weren't blind. She's just so happy. And then she asked the professor if she could address the class. She carefully got up from her seat and faced the class. She expressed how happy she was to be our TA and that she wanted us to know that she was available for any questions that we might have and she hoped that she could really help us in the class. She then made a joke about how the building where her office is located is often referred to as a fallout shelter and asked that we please visit her because it was dark and lonely. She smiled widely after this joke and used her hands to feel her way back to her seat. What I really want to write about is what happened next. The professor started lecturing and I heard these clicking noises from her direction. The closest thing I can compare the noise to is the sound your mouth makes when you touch your tongue to the roof of your mouth and suck in air while snapping your tongue down. It's the sound people make when they want to convey that there's someone knocking on the door and they knock against an imaginary door in front of them instead of a table to get that sound effect. (Feel free to exhibit this sound now so that you can fully immerse yourself in my experience. If you have no idea what I'm talking about... tough bananas.) So I looked towards the direction of the sound and realized it was the TA, bent over something on her binder, busily making these noises. I quickly realized what she was doing. She was taking notes! In Braille!! For the sake of social graces, I didn't want to stare so I shelved my curiosity for the time being and waited until I got home to investigate. I've done some poking around and it's basically called a Braille slate and stylus. Here's an excerpt from an informative website I came across:

The stylus is used to push dots down through the paper, while the slate serves as a guide. The Braille slate can be made of metal or plastic and is hinged so that there is a guide under the paper and on top of it. A person writing Braille with the slate and stylus begins at the right side of the paper and ends the line on the left, since the dots are being produced on the underside of the paper. Of course, the Braille reader reads from left to right, for the dots are then on the top side of the paper. Although this may seem a bit confusing, it need not be at all troublesome, since both reading and writing progress through words and sentences from beginning to end in the same manner. The speed of writing Braille with the slate and stylus is about the same as the speed of writing print with pen or pencil.

The last point is very interesting to me. I think that general society as a whole knows very little about the visually impaired community. At least that's the case for me. Some parents of blind children wish that their children would become as "unblind" as possible but I think Braille, like sign language, is incredible and beautiful evidence of the human body's ability to learn and adapt. I think it's time to start up my lefthanded writing practice again.

the animated life

2005-09-14T18:46:00.000-07:00

I think comic books are magical. A story told in comic book form is like nothing else. Art Spiegelman's Maus and Maus II were introduced to me a few years ago and I've been an avid fan of the Batman story for years. In particular I really enjoy Frank Miller's work. (Frank Miller also happens to be the genius behind Sin City.) That being said, I haven't seen many Japanese anime series. They're a lot of fun but just not deep enough for me. I will say that I've only seen one so maybe my opinion isn't worth much. HunterXHunter. Character analysis will have to be saved for another time but my point is that I haven't seen THAT many cartoons so I don't know how often what I am about to describe happens to dedicated anime/cartoon watchers. Lately, I've been running into people that hold striking resemblances to cartoon characters. The most shocking one is from HunterXHunter. My Developmental Psychology TA looks EXACTLY like Kururo Lucifer, the leader of Genei Ryodan spider clan. And I'm not talking about those stupid anime costume contests they have. This TA really looks like Kururo-- which, if you've seen the anime, is a bit creepy. The other example is a real life cartoon appearance is this girl that's also training to be a volunteer at the crisis center. She resembles a less known cartoon that was based off of the movie Jumanji. My kid sister used to watch this all the time after school on weekday afternoons and I couldn't stand it. Peabody this, peabody that. Anyway, I had a hard time finding a picture of her, but there she is. She's the blond girl on the right with braids. I believe her name is Judy. So is this pretty common? Do you have cartoon characters in your life?

tomorrow we go to the zoo

2005-09-13T21:59:00.000-07:00

I usually don't read lyrics/poems when they're posted on blogs. So I'm not offended if you don't read this. But it's a good song. Take it for whatever you'd like. I'm sure it makes me feel different than how you feel. Right now, I'm posting it because I think this is a good representative song for my day.

Can't Lose You - Caedmon's Call (specifically Derek Webb's acoustic version)

so you're gone but i know you're not so far away you're a call on the phone a ride on a plane but that just isn't the same yeah, well

that's okay 'cause i was never home anyway so everyone's evolving and i am just the same as i was ten years ago but i don't know maybe the simple life is more the way to go but then again i’m mostly all alone

Chorus 'cause i'm losing everyone but i know i can't lose you and maybe my time will come but i know i can't lose you

the older i get the more that life is making sense and it's similar to traffic or being president 'cause i’m not the one in control you grab a hold i'm just a hammer helping to nail the future down but it's getting hard to watch my friends leave town

but maybe i missed the nose right on my face for what's just past it and maybe i have the gift that everyone speaks so highly of funny how nobody wants it

sailing to san lorenzo

2005-09-12T14:57:00.000-07:00

Say hello to Kurt Vonnegut. I've just read my first novel written by him, Cat's Cradle. Amazing how I never stumbled across him in high school. I have large gaps in my background of literature and his well known Slaughterhouse-Five is as shockingly unfamiliar to me as Joseph Heller's Catch-22. This is why I am always hesitant to admit my love for reading. While it's something I undoubtedly enjoy, I don't read nearly as much as I'd like to and I think that's usually a good thing. There is a time in everyone's life when circumstances don't allow them to do whatever they'd like or go wherever they'd like. In these times, books are (as corny as it sounds) the fire-escapes to other realities. But when you are of decision-making age, I think it's important to make sure that the life you're leading is more exciting than the ones you read about. Of course a few fantastic trips into brighter and bleaker worlds are warranted (even if only on a purely cathartic sense) but on the whole, I don't think great reading can replace great living. That being said, I really liked this book. Sometimes when I read a book, I desperately wish I could meet the author. This doesn't happen too often. Usually I'd rather not know the author and hate when I am accosted by a boring picture of the author leaning against a doorframe with his arms folded or a picture of the author sitting in the grass with her golden retriever and a silly smile on her face. In that instance, genius is usually reduced to normalcy. There are exceptions of course. Chuck Palahniuk looks as cool as I thought he might. And now, Kurt Vonnegut. Cat's Cradle is kind of hard to describe and equally hard to recommend. I think this quote from the book sums it up quite well.

"Anyone who cannot understand how a useful religion can be based on lies will not understand this book either."

It's written from the perspective of a guy who is in search of the story behind the scientist who invented the atomic bomb. The reader is introduced to the made-up religion of Bokononism that has all sorts of quirky aspects such as the idea of a karass. Basically, everyone in the world is grouped into teams (whether they know it or not) and they work out the will of God. Your team is called your karass. If you find that you seem to be interconnected with some people and keep running into them at different times in your life, it's most likely they are in your karass. It's also full of one-liners and two-liners such as

"Beware of the man who works hard to learn something, learns it, and finds himself no wiser than before. He is full of murderous resentment of people who are ignorant without having come by their ignorance the hard way."

I don't know. Check it out for yourself if you'd like. Or don't. Mass book recommendations are lousy. I usually like to recommend books to certain people who I think would enjoy it because it's silly to think that everyone could appreciate the same book. Why do I like this book? Well, I think it's important to read a book that ridicules your faith. And after having laughed with the author and fully appreciated the ridicule, it is important to still walk away with your original faith intact, if not strengthened.

thursday night lights

2005-09-08T20:32:00.000-07:00

For these next two weeks, I'll be spending my Tuesday and Thursday nights training to volunteer at a local women's crisis center. The center helps to empower women who have been abused (sexually, physically, emotionally) and/or sexually assaulted. It's a simple conference room, with white plastic tables set up in a U-shape so that we can all look at each other. They provide light refreshments such as soda, bottled water and pretzels. We all wear nametags and exchange generic pleasantries during breaks. You'd think we were discussing MaryKay sales strategies by the female representation. Despite the tame settings, the things we discuss and toss back and forth are some of the most horrifying topics I've ever talked about extensively with a group of strangers. It's especially enlightening because we have a Police Detective (complete with firearm on his hip and gold badge on his belt) joining us and he sheds quite a bit of light on the reality of arrests and the state of the victims. He looks exactly what I would picture a detective to look like. Dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed moustache. Tonight he expressed that domestic violence victims are the only victims he's ever come across where he has to sit down and convince the victim that they, in fact, are a victim. Somehow, over the years, the slaps in the face, the wrist grabbing, the slamming into walls and the verbal attacks become an everyday reality to some women. Somehow, in the mind of the victim, they start blaming themselves for the abuse. This one particular statistic keeps coming to mind. On average, a woman will have to leave her abusive relationship SEVEN times before she really leaves for good. The CEO of the crisis center said that there are countless times when a woman comes into the shelter for help and you really believe that she's going to get on her feet. She seems real committed to piecing her life back together and you go home at night feeling like you have accomplished something great with the woman. And the next morning you show up at the shelter to find out that she went home to her abusive husband in the middle of the night. When a victim leaves the abuser, she is 75% more likely to get killed. Those are really lousy odds. There are also women who are so used to getting physically abused that they start altering their behavior in an attempt to "control" the abuse. For example, their mentality is that they will inevitably get hit. So instead of choosing to walk on eggshells all day, they'll intentionally pick a fight with the abusive man so that at least they know WHEN they'll be hit. I was struck speechless when I heard this. The discussion also included the men who act as the batterer in abusive relationships. This was a hard angle to look at because it's easy to just think they're scum. But the root of the domestic violence problem isn't why women have a hard time leaving. The real question is why are these men so abusive? The truth is that a lot of these men are really in pain. They are unable to develop healthy relationships because they have serious issues with control... and most have psychological issues with relationships in general. A lot of times it's not even physical abuse. There are ridiculous stories of men who only allot a certain number of miles on the car to their wife and check the odometer each night to make sure she didn't violate it. One particular woman has to take a picture of her surroundings every 4 hours with her phone and send it to her boyfriend so that he knows where she is and that she's not lying about it. If these women fail to follow these rules they'll invariably be punished. How horrible for the women but imagine what kind of tormented mind the abuser must have. I'm not even going to try to write about the child abuse issues we talked about tonight. I just... I don't know. I know my posts are usually more tightly written than this and I apologize for the current stream. But I just keep thinking that there is so much media for the disaster in the Gulf and I hate that it takes such a dramatic tragedy to bring out the philanthropic side of America. It tears me up inside to think about all the women who live day-to-day in hell without national news coverage on CNN. They are beat and emotionally broken down to the esteem of a small child and are completely isolated from society. They live in fear of being killed and of their children being killed. And what's worse is that no amount of monetary donations can really help these women. When it comes down to it, they often are so psychologically and emotionally warped that they feel responsible and largely defensive of their abuser. It's times like this when I remember how ugly the world is. I feel like as an optimist I'm usually on the lookout for glimpses of beauty. And I do believe beauty exists here, don't get me wrong. But when I forget about (read: choose to ignore) the ugliness of the world , I think that is when I am most selfish. Disclaimer: This post was meant to be more self-incriminating than finger-pointing.

franny glass

2005-09-07T11:28:00.000-07:00

"I'm sick of it. I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody. I'm sick of myself and everybody else that wants to make some kind of splash." - Franny Glass in J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey

a round of deodorant

2005-09-06T14:39:00.000-07:00

My new apartment requires me to subject myself to public transportation. I think public transportation definitely has its upsides but I personally enjoy arriving and leaving when I want to and not when the bus driver wants to. The best thing about public transportation is that it eliminates the need to find parking. Some commuters wave this particular flag of convenience gloriously when they hail the almighty municipal transit system. Me? I'd rather drive. I think there's something grand about being able to manuever such an impressive piece of machinery over all sorts of roads. And maybe it has something to do with the fact that I fought so long and hard with the parental units to get my driver's license. Maybe I'll spend the rest of my life making it worthwhile. Who knows. I was going to write a detailed post about busriding but I'll try to give you the brief version. I get carsick easily so I don't have a good impression of buses. When I was in Elementary school my aunt would write a note to the teacher so that when we went on field trips, I would sit in the first seat next to the teacher instead of in the back of the bus where the cool kids sat. I'm sure this has had a psychological effect on me that will rear its ugly head later in life. (I'm kidding, I just sat in a lecture about Freudian stage theory.) So I don't really like buses. I particularly don't enjoy standing on buses, gripping the overhead rail or illogically designed polyester hand strap that gives you little to no support. I hate the idea of the bus lurching forward and accidentally booty-bumping the person behind me or the bus suddendly braking and accidentally chest bumping the person in front of me. I grip the overhead railing so tightly that I have to flex my fingers at stoplights to get circulation flowing in them again. Today I saw a boy offer his seat to a girl he didn't know (they didn't exchange a single word after the offer and acceptance of the seat) and I marveled at how effin' classy the gesture was. I want to shake the meaty hand of his nurturing mother and congratulate her for raising such a fine young man. On an unrelated note, the unavoidable result of crowded buses is ten to fifteen sweaty college students standing in the aisles and hanging onto the overhead railing/strap for dear life. Thirty raised arms results in incredibly pungent body smells. Bill Backer may want to buy the world a coke but I want to buy the busing community a round of deodorant. I'd like it especially if a cocktail waitress brought the round on a circular drink tray and passed it out like she passes out drinks. And instead of people getting smashed, they'd just smell a whole lot better.

saving the best for last

2005-09-01T21:59:00.000-07:00

SOC 308 HEALTH AND WELFARE POLICY FOR THE 21ST CENTURY SOC 325L CRIMINAL JUSTICE SOC 352M FAMILY POLICY ISSUES PSY 333D INTRODUCTION TO DEVELOPMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY This may prove to be my best semester yet. With this lineup, I'm going to look forward to reading for class and writing papers. What a fresh breath of air. And no more checking the clock every five minutes to see when I can get out of class. Today was riddled with soundbytes but the most interesting exchange took place in a discussion about boot camps and their ineffectiveness on juvenile delinquents. My professor is some sort of expert (expert in that he's called upon to testify in court and consult governmental agencies, prisons, etc) on criminal justice and he claims that evidence shows people who are sent to boot camps for run-ins with the law are not any less likely to be repeat offenders than those who aren't sent to boot camps. After this declaration, a talkative blonde girl in a pink tank top sitting in front of me cocked her head to one side, raised her hand and asked, "Wait, do you mean military boot camp? Or... another kind of boot camp?" "I'm talking about the boot camps they have for... you know, assholes." The professor chuckled lightly at his own profanity. "It seems like a great idea. Get these little jerks who have problems with authority and discipline and shave their heads, make them run and do pushups, and make them say yes sir and no sir." Then another girl in a white t-shirt across the aisle from me raised her hand to speak. The professor nodded in her direction and she started by saying, "Well, my boyfriend's an asshole and he went to boot camp..." The class erupted with laughter. "I appreciate your candor. Did you say boyfriend or ex-boyfriend?" "Boyfriend." "Okay. And he's an asshole." "Well... yeah." The class snickered. "And how was bootcamp for him?" "Changed his whole life." Like I said. A breath of fresh air.

qoop, there it is!

2005-08-31T11:07:00.000-07:00

I've been waiting quite some time for something like this. A company named QOOP has partnered with Flickr to print photobooks, thumbnail books and posters. I am particularly interested in the photobooks since I've heard mixed reviews about the quality of Shutterfly and Ofoto's photobooks. Here's a quick blurb: "The books are constructed with a glossy laminated heavy weight paper cover and a matte finished paper stock for the internal pages. Each full color book can be up to 800 pages in length and hold up to 4800 images with their titles and descriptions." Lots of people are complaining about their inability to print normal 4x6 or 5x7 photos. I'm sure that'll come with time as this whole thing is still in beta. And of course the next step would be to have a "print t-shirt" option. I bet the big dawgs at Googletown wish they had bought Flickr right about now.

obsolescence

2005-08-30T11:35:00.000-07:00

You can pretty much tell if someone is truly internet literate by the way they refer to the internet. Someone who is pretty comfortable with the internet will refer to it as a verb ("being online") or a location ("you can find it online"). The keyword here is "online." Those who read magazine articles about the importance of the internet and who still think it's very cutting edge to have things that can be accessed on the internet from all around the world use different lingo. They say phrases such as "the Web" or even worse, "you can find it on AOL." As if AOL were the internet in its entirety. I may be way off on this but in my experience, those keywords are good tip offs. Sometimes it makes me sad to think that my children will probably never write a report about dinosaurs by opening the letter "D" volume of the encyclopedia. They will probably never open the letter "A" volume to see if "aardvark" is the only animal that starts with two a's. Encyclopedia's are pretty much done for. I remember our first 486 computer came with a CD that installed Microsoft Encarta and my sisters and I rarely consulted our Encyclopedia Britannica set after that. I still like encyclopedias though. I used to be a huge Encyclopedia Brown fan and thought he had the coolest name ever. But beyond that, I like the weight of each volume and the thickness of the pages. I like the colored diagrams and especially the human anatomy section with transparent overlays of the circulatory system and nervous system. I love the profiles on countries where they detail the main industries, foods, language, and currency. I know, I know, these are all things I can easily find online (take notice, I'm comfortable with the internet). So I have this great idea. I want to assign a volume of the encyclopedia to 26 friends of mine to read from cover to cover. (I'm assuming there are 26 volumes but there may be less since I think they group letter "X" and letter "Y" together.) This way, anytime one of us needs information, we simply call the person in charge of the relevant volume. For example, say I'm hiking in the woods and I am bit by a snake. I can't remember the "black and red, you're dead" rhyme (or however it goes) so I call up the friend that's assigned the letter "S" volume and quickly find out whether or not I'm about to die. After breathlessly sharing this brilliant encyclopedia plan to the boyfriend the other day, he gently reminded me that I don't have anywhere close to 26 friends.

i broke the law today

2005-08-29T15:14:00.000-07:00

My usual freeway entrance ramp was closed today (for reasons unbeknownst to me) so I stayed on the feeder (a.k.a service road) and entered on the next available onramp. Unfortunately, the next onramp fed straight into the HOV lane. Unfortunately because I was alone. Unlike some naked HOV lanes with simple, bumpy double white lines around it, this one was barricaded by concrete on both sides. I was forced to continue breaking the law for another 10 minutes until I hit the next major interstate loop where I could exit the HOV and join the regular unenvironmentally conscious, non-carpooling public. As I drove in the HOV I saw numerous signs warning of $200 fines for driving in the HOV lane without having at least two people in the car and even a hotline phone number to report HOV violators. The number was something like 555-HERO. I kid you not. I slid lower in my seat and hoped that no one would see my empty car and give me the finger or shout muted obscenities at me. When I was younger, I used to think that HOV meant "heavy overweight vehicles" instead of "high occupancy vehicles." Knowing that such a mistake is only slightly humorous for a pre-teenager and maybe only in recollection and even then, only in written form on a personal blog, I tried to think of more valid excuses in case I was pulled over by a police officer. I came up with none better than the truth. Luckily no heroes reported me and I didn't get fined for violating the HOV lane rules. You know, I don't even like the HOV lane. When I am carpooling or I have the minimum body count of 2 in my car, I rarely opt for the HOV lane because I hate getting stuck in it behind some slow car and not having the option of changing lanes. It would really be unfair if I had been fined for a ticket because I would NEVER use the HOV illegally... well, at least not on purpose. For the record, I did get to my destination a heckofalot faster this morning. As I sped pass all the morning traffic I made a mental note to modify my opinion about the overall benefit of HOV lanes. The modification is as follows: the HOV does not always suck.

no such thing as a stupid question

2005-08-25T09:59:00.000-07:00

As I was driving home tonight I noticed that the OBJECTS ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR warning message is only printed on the passenger sideview mirror and not on the driver's sideview mirror. Why? I googled it. It led me to an AskYahoo! website (further evidence that Yahoo! still rules the web). For the linklazy, here's the apparent reason:

You're very astute in noting that the "OBJECTS ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR" warning appears only on the passenger side mirror. Objects on the driver's side are, apparently, exactly as close as they appear.
Why this strange discrepancy? According to The Straight Dope, it's because the two mirrors are made differently. The driver's side window is a flat mirror, like the kind you find in your bathroom. The passenger side window, however, has a convex or "wide angle" surface. In other words, wide angle mirrors bulge outwards.

This unusual shape allows the driver to see more, helping to compensate for the "blind spot" we all learned to fear in driver's ed. In order to display more objects (such as passing cars), the wide angle mirror shrinks them. This tends to play tricks on our depth perception, since we associate smaller objects with greater distance. Hence the warning.

I have plenty of other "stupid" questions. Like what kind of computer program is used for multiple elevator systems to determine floor priority, how to obtain a liquor license, and whether John Gotti really deserved to be ratted out to the po-po. I think when you stop asking questions you've allowed the world to take away a bit of your humanity. So ask away. Even if it's as trivial as the number of licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll... ah, you get my point.

my electrical romance

2005-08-24T11:21:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of perks in dating an electrical engineer. Computer hardware know-how, above average math skills, intellectually stimulating conversations, nunchaku (read nunchuck) skills... just to name a few. Perhaps the most interesting perk is the quirky kind of romantic moments that occur between a logical, draw-me-a-circuit-diagram engineer turned account manager (him) and an idealistic, write-me-a-love-letter accountant turned social worker (me). Some of you may have seen that Korean music video about the photographer that gave his eyes (literally) to this girl because she lost her eyesight in a freak, photo-developing, chemical accident. If you haven't seen it, it's okay, I pretty much summed up 3 minutes in one sentence. The depth of his sacrifice is set up by making the guy a photographer, an occupation/hobby that pretty much requires eyesight. But of course, you caught that. What follows is a related exchange between me and the bee-eff. --------------------------------------------------------------------- How come you care more about me taking out my contacts than me brushing my teeth? You can fill your cavities but... Yeaaaaah okay fine, I guess eye damage is more permanent. (pause) Hey hon? If I lost my eyesight, would you give me your eyes? You know, like that Korean music video? (pause, and then very seriously) I'd give you one of them. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Can't really fault the guy. It's actually quite logical. Just not storybook. Who wants storybook anyway? Not me. In any case, my visual imagination takes over at this point and I chuckle thinking about how the music video would have been MUCH different if the male lead were an engineer instead of a photographer. But also that it would have been MUCH smarter. Okay, no more organ transplant related posts. I'm really not that morbid, I promise. I'm actually very squeamish and can't stand the sight/thought of blood.

inefficient equity

2005-08-18T13:55:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I lied. One more post before the hiatus. This is the long-awaited following up to my previous post about the sale of kidneys. Human kidneys. Hopefully you can chew on this for awhile. (Please read the preceding sentence using the same intonation the punky teenager did during his voiceover in the old Trident commercials when he exclaimed, "Chew on this! 4 out of 5 dentists say that chewing Trident reduces the risk of cavities." Moving right along.) I present to you two beautiful graphs that I lovingly spent thirty minutes making in Microsoft Paint. I've succumbed to providing graphs. No matter what numbers you want to use, the fact of the matter is that if you allow healthy living people to sell their kidneys for a price, the total amount of life-saving kidney transplants will increase. In the first graph, you see a large gap between Qs (quantity supplied) and Qd (quantity demanded). This represents a mismatch of those willing to sell and those willing to buy-- in other words, a shortage. This is the current state of affairs. The second graph is a rough representation of what would happen if kidney sales were allowed. There would be some equilibrium price above $0 (it should be safe to assume that people would rather get something for their trouble rather than nothing). Q* is the equilibrium quantity of kidneys that would be exchanged. The whole point of showing you these graphs is to state once and for all that the total quantity of kidneys exchanged would increase if there was no price control. I wanted to get past all of that because there are far more interesting questions that lay beneath the surface. Yes, as rx pointed out, allowing kidney sales will probably mean that people who would ordinarily donate their organs for free would now want some money for it. This also means that some of the poor would not get kidneys because those who can afford it will offer copious amounts of money for it. Before I jump further into the hole I'm digging myself, I do want to say that I'm still rather undecided on this issue. I'm playing the devil's advocate because I think it provides for an interesting avenue of thought. If there was a way to increase the total kidney supply and it meant that less poor people could get kidneys, should it be done? The gut instinct is no. Price discrimination is really ugly. But the more I think about it... some equity tactics tend to be hidden discriminations. I don't want to throw out affirmative action onto the table because the table is already really cluttered but there are similar flaws. A very simplified way to think about this is... is it wrong to give 10 rich kids a chance to live if the result is 1 poor kid dying? If you say it's wrong, then you are effectively saying that the 1 poor kid's life is worth saving more than 10 rich kids. A life is a life, isn't it? (Boy, I can imagine the angry comments on this one.) A friend once brought up the whole idea of how in emergency situations (think Titanic) women, children and old people are usually saved first. Why? Not that their lives are necessarily more valuable... it just seems like the right thing to do. This might be crazy but what if there was some sort of lottery where either your whole family got saved or your whole family died. That way at least some people could avoid misery. This would probably never happen but I just don't see the point of everyone's family getting split up. This was supposed to start out as a smart, well-thought out post but I've somehow derailed. Hopefully what I'm trying to present was clear. I write this in full expectation that there will be no final conclusion made. It all really boils down to whether you believe in the greater good... you know, sacrificing one for the sake of many. It's sounds too much like socialist-propaganda so I'll stop there. Again, I'm still chewing on this myself. I would love to hear what you think.

short hiatus

2005-08-17T22:04:00.000-07:00

Sockparade will be broadcasting reruns until Wednesday of next week. Sorry for the break. Stay tuned until then.

overdue facelift

2005-08-17T16:08:00.000-07:00

The site redesign is to make up for the unpopular freewriting that I sometimes do on this blog. Feedback is appreciated. Special thanks to Paige Pooler for her help with Blogger templates. Check out her blog, she's quite the "doodler."

i want my penny back

2005-08-16T21:59:00.000-07:00

A penny for your thoughts. You don't want to know. Come on, lay it on me. Well if you must know... I was thinking about pale, stocky, male gymnasts running on blue exercise mats towards pummel horses at full speed. Which isn't too unusual in and of itself except that I was imagining that all the pummel horses were replaced with giant sausages. Cooked, of course. I imagined the bottom of the giant sausage being a bit burnt from sitting on the griddle for too long and wondered if the person in charge of making sure the sausages didn't get burnt would lose their job. And then I started to wonder why the pummel horses had even been replaced with sausages in the first place and weren't they worried about getting sued? I imagined the instant after the stocky little men bounce off the spring board and look down to see a greasy, giant sausage instead of the pummel horse they were expecting. I imagined each of their contorted faces, wrought with confusion. And I played all the thoughts that would probably swirl around in their mind as their bodies twist gracefully in the air. I thought up seven different thought paths and ran them through my own mind, trying to capture all the emotions and feelings. And then I think about all that white chalk gymnasts put on their hands before they do the pummel horse event and I cringe at the mess I know it'll make when it's mixed with all that pan grease. And if the sausage gains acceptance for the pummel horse event, maybe they'll change the uneven bars to skinny sausages too. But they'd definitely have to get stronger sausage casing because, God forbid, a heavier gymnast could break the sausage link and land on his arm in a not-so-funny, career-ending way. In fact, almost all the gymnastic events could be sausagefied, even the floor exercises. And when they land hard enough on the sausage floor mats, it'll cause pockets of grease to squirt out like the dancing fountains in front of the Bellagio Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada. Wouldn't that be a hoot? And there, my friends, is your cue to ask for your penny back.

first aid

2005-08-15T17:54:00.000-07:00

I bought this while checking out at HEB this morning. It was either this or find out the true story behind the Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston's breakup. I figured if I was ever in a life-threatening situation I would never forgive myself for choosing the wrong magazine. I plan to read a section a night. The first half is alphabetical, from Abdominal Injuries to Vertigo. The second half covers all sorts of emergency situations such as "Perils in a Boat", "Escaping From a Car Underwater", and "How to Deal With a Panicking Swimmer" to name just a few. Begin Aside. A few years ago, while eating with some friends, I mentioned the common-knowledge (or what I thought was common) concept of keeping a hammer handy in your car in case your car is ever submerged in water and you are trapped inside. The hammer allows you to smash your windows when your doors are stuck or the water pressure too great to open them normally. I was ridiculed for sharing this. I have great friends, you see. Has anyone else heard this before? Where did I get this idea? Was it in a movie? A book? I've searched for years to no avail. End Aside. So I figure if I finish reading this book, I'll be prepared for most emergencies I encounter in my life. Many people die because they are ill-prepared for emergencies or they think they know how to handle a situation based off of what they saw in a movie and they end up worsening the situation or killing themselves/others. I don't want to be that person. After I finish reading this guy, you'll want me on your camping trip. My only fear is that I will only have read up to the food poisoning section and someone will go into "shock". What can I say? I love living on the edge.

das keyboard - ubergeeks only

2005-08-12T08:14:00.000-07:00

I ran across this "new invention" on Yahoo! Technology news. Here's what Yahoo! had to say about it. As always, for the link lazy: It's basically a keyboard with all the lettering removed. So when you look at it, it's blank like the keys on a piano. Certainly not for hunt 'n peck typists. But for those who are pretty good typists and want to become completely familiar with the keyboard, it forces them to memorize the keys. Even where the ~ and the ^ are. The argument is that this would make you a much faster typist. Of course you could just scrape off the existing letters on your keyboard instead of forking over 80 clams for it. But it's also physically designed like the old school IBM clackity-clack keyboard with spring loaded keys that we all know and love. Supposedly the keys are all weighted differently.

"It is indeed comfortable to use, with five different key weights designed to keep the fingers nimble. The space bar, for example, requires slightly more effort to press than a quick tap of the "c" key."

It'd make for a cool geek gift. Can't believe this guy is getting away with selling it for $80 though. EDIT: Oh God. I just read some user reviews posted on their website and this one takes the cake.

"At first I was intrigued, but when I started using it two things happened: it was a joy to type and my colleagues looked at me like I was a superhero! I would not go back to a normal keyboard now." -- Philippe H.

I understand the need for peer acceptance but I seriously doubt his coworkers were looking at him like he was a superhero. What does that look like anyway? Do they stand with their mouths gaping open while fearfully shielding their eyes from the fantastic glow emanating from his speedy, Riverdance fingers?

cold chicken

2005-08-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

... cold turkey works just as well but the phrase implies something totally different. My old roommate used to think it was disgusting that I would enjoy eating hot foods straight out of the refrigerator without heating. I LOVE cold pizza and I LOVE cold chicken. Especially a tasty drumstick on a hot summer day. Like today. As I was scarfing down a cold chicken leg after work today, I wondered if there was some sort of correlation between latchkey kids and eating cold hotfoods. I definitely acquired the taste for it during the many summers my mom refrigerated lunch for my sisters and I and we were too lazy to heat it up. Anyone have a similar experience or is it just one of those random personal preferences?

i cut my own bangs

2005-08-10T21:08:00.000-07:00

And now for a post about vanity. My mom cut my hair for 20 years. I get really uneasy about new stylists. I learned how to cut hair by watching the ladies in LA cut my hair. I watched them in the mirror as they meticulously trimmed my short hair. When you watch people cut short hair you learn a lot more than you do when you watch people cut long hair. I don't know why hairdressers have those huge mirrors where you can watch your hair get cut. I mean, I know it's an industry standard but if I had a skill like that, I'd try to keep it as under wraps as possible. So now that I cut my own bangs, I'm constantly debating whether they need a trim. I used to have the price of a haircut to use a gauge of whether I thought a haircut was really necessary but now that I've gone indie, it's really become a troublesome issue. How long is too long and how short is too short? And why the heck is the comments section on this blog getting spammed? And how do I stop it??

welcome to social work

2005-08-09T20:55:00.000-07:00

I was punched in the nose by a 5-year-old named Antoine today.

memo saves the day

2005-08-08T19:39:00.000-07:00

I am forced to go on somewhat of a Blog hiatus until Friday when the cable guy comes and allows me to freely access the information superhighway once again. I'll still be blogging but the content might become significantly trivial. Which some of you may enjoy for a change. (And some of you may be thinking, "But it's been pretty trivial this whole time!") Sigh, the joys and pains of moving. It used to really annoy me when people typed out the word "Sigh" as part of their dialogue or when people verbally said "Sigh". I've gotten over it. So, a funny thing happened today. The AC in my new apartment broke. I tried not to cry. I took several deep breaths and called the leasing office to report the problem. I tried not to think about the 2 weeks that I was without AC just a week ago. In an unbelievable THIRTY MINUTES later the maintenance men arrived at my door to fix it. (At my old place it would have taken at least 3 days for them to even come look at it. I suppose it's one of the perks of living in an apartment instead of a condo.) The maintenance men knew what the problem was and fixed it in 15 minutes. They also said I had a pretty name and that I was a smart lady because I was a business student. The best part was when the head maintenance guy said, "You can call me Memo. It's like a nickname." Don't worry, I will write a followup post on the kidney sale when I'm fully reconnected with the internet.

mae

2005-08-04T23:28:00.000-07:00

I'm surprised this band hasn't made it into mainstream yet. I think they were on the Warped Tour but they definitely aren't getting much radioplay. Some of their songs are slow and cheesy but the fast ones are good. Pay special attention to: Mae - Someone Else's Arms Mae - Suspension Mae - Embers and Envelopes Mae - Last Call While I was uploading the picture of the band I scrolled past this picture and it made me chuckle. I thought I'd share. Say hello to the Assistant (to the) Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin Paper Supply Company.