Monthly Report 3

Another month end! Hooray! Another couple of paychecks, another couple hours of gaming, and some steps on the Zombie Walk have been taken. All in all, some accomplishments, some lackings, but a good enough month.

The coming posts are going to be short and sweet. Again. As the more astute of you have no doubt noticed, I draft these things way up in advance, and then crank them when I have (read: force myself to have) time to complete them. My best post recently is the one before this, please cram your eyes at that.

Procrastination is quite the strange bird, indeed. You finally get all the way up to a deadline, and then when you finally catch yourself almost completely up, you take a small break, and then life gets in the fucking way. This month, I will finally catch up from the holidays.

Not afraid of run-on sentences,

-The0

The "Roll" part of Rock

As previously mentioned, I have obsessions which come to the forefront of my skull, become all I can talk or think about for about 2 months, and then, though still a part of my repertoire of interests, fade away. Usually, it's because such projects or obsessions are very very costly, require loads of free time (in very short supply, as readers have no doubt inferred,) or a vast sum of technical knowledge in order to get them to even come close to fruition. The results however, can astound anyone. That disclaimed, I give you the current honey of my th0ught process, The 1957 Chevrolet.

My god, I know I bend to obsession at times, but I hope this one remains part of my person for as long as I am coherent. I'm losing hope on it officially, in a depressed bout where I've decided I will never have the available cash to get my latest dream car, which in all rights, is my original dream car. I've loved this vehicle off and on since I was 8, I think. The 1957 Chevrolet 150, 210 or Bel Air. A beautiful mix of subdued styling; classy, and aggressive, like a spy with a sassy haircut, an ironworker in a tuxedo, a rock star in high society, or a nerd in a hawaiian shirt (not sure about that last simile). This thing is such a mishmash of personality and actual sass that most people, even not knowing the year, have to bend to its class, history, styling, and interestingly enough, progressiveness.

The avant-garde shape of the headlights, the generous helping of chrome on the bumper, the futuristic bombsight hood ornaments give the car a character straight from the front view. Moving over the lovingly angled windshield, we come to the beginning of the fins, curving down slightly to let you know they're beginning. Echoing the wheel wells, they play small hint at what's to come. The forerunner to muscle car styling gives straight back to a pair of elegant fins. Sort of a raised eyebrow at the massive airfoils that were beginning to adorn cars at that time. The interior, simplistic of the now, was modern at it's era. Smooth, sleek, yet busy. Not really deco, but I have no idea how else to describe it. Beautiful. The whitewall tires do no small favor in the fast-paced look that go straight from the blacktop to the ballroom.

However, design is not the only property this vehicle has to show for itself. Available options for it included air conditioning (a rare amenity back then), a razor for some reason (maybe to shave on the way to work?), a dashboard prism that allowed you to see traffic lights changing (so that you don't have to lean forward to watch them), and a couple of other things. It even had something called an "Autotronic Eye", which automatically dimmed your headlights when it sensed oncoming light sources. Internally, we had the options for power steering, power brakes, an automatic transmission, and the first-ever production fuel-injected engine. It made for the second engine to ever produce one horsepower per cubic inch of displacement off the line. Technology and engineering all coming together for a grand, beautiful triumph of form and function.

This car calls back to a whitewashed past. In a din of civil rights disputes, scandal, and the awesome birth of rock and roll, we can still look back at the faded posters and rust spots on our post-war glory, and remember how it used to be. If it becomes the death of me, I will own one of these.

-The0

Lunacy

I have many interests, varied and numerous as the fucking stars. They are all very cool, very worthwhile, very appealing interests. The main issue is that I have ADD. These interests wax ridiculous and then, sadly, slowly wane to the periphery. These interests don't cease to be interesting, though. I simply get distracted by another shiny new awesome. Recall my devout interest in robots just over a year ago? I'm able to identify rotor type and purpose, a couple of technical terms, and I can appreciate the effort put into those things. That is all that has come of those hours perusing and researching. It's been happening for a while now, and I'm making certain to recognize it.

The real trouble in all of this is that I think it keeps me from getting farther ahead in life. I get an interest, a will to make something cool happen, and then either interest fades or something new comes up. It's a hell to be able to recognize this kind of pattern, and be next to powerless to stop it. Like someone who has no apparent willpower.

I am going to start working against this. I'm making permanent logs of things I want to do. They call these things "Goals" apparently. A goal that is not written down is but a dream, apparently. So, with my work cut out for me, I need to prioritize, and make daily efforts towards my goals.

I didn't mean to get all preachy just then. It would seem my current goal is to start making goals, to the end of getting my life together.

...Again.

-The0

Ridiculously Behind

Have you ever noticed how time seems to go faster when it's the last thing you want/need it to do? For example, you have 12 years worth of work to do, and 15 minutes in which to do it. You sneeze, and then you're late, running behind and doing everything on the fly. I feel like that lately. My weblog is sadly suffering for the time being because of this fact.

They say if you're early to bed, early to rise, it'll make you healthy, wealthy, and wise. Late to sleep, late to wake, makes a man hard to break I think. Harder circumstances has tried to bring me down, and the fact of the matter is I just won't freaking let it. I have too much work to do.

I'm not to proud to turn down help on anything when it's offered. Not anymore. I have very little experience soliciting help though. That stated, well, I'll just follow my usual form and blurt it out.

Following is a small list of projects which with I could use some assistance:

• Zombie Walk, scheduled for October 23rd.
• Reclamation of my living area, sooner than later.
• Destruction of my alcohol collection, as soon as possible.
• Undisclosed dream car project, before oil runs out.
• Instrument practice, whenever possible.
• Video gameage, whenever possible.
• Work tomorrow, Too soon.

Yeah, I may be biting off more than I can chew.

-The0

New Shoes!

I was never really able to get in on popular things while I was young. I was late to great music, I was behind the curve to good movies, and spending all my physical adolescence in a military school, I was certainly never on top of fashions. But, having lived on my own, socialized a bit more, and learned of the real ways of rock, I came across an affinity for something I love wearing. 20 years late, but still kickin'.

My Converse Chuck Taylors. Black and white, athletic, classy, and they can go nearly everywhere. The quintessential rock and roll shoe, retro in it's looks, and hip to this day. Granted, I'm rambling at this point, but I seriously love the look and feel of these shoes. I'm getting married in them (or a new pair at that point, probably), and if I can find the right tuxedo, I can pull it off.

All-Stars. They're like whitewall tires, for your feet.

-The0

Can't get it from Radishes, either.

A couple of weeks ago I had my debit card number stolen. I was woken up early on a day off to a call from my bank, asking about several large purchases. I had just gotten paid the night before, but I had not yet deposited the money. Some one, through one of my online transactions, I must assume, had gotten a hold of my card number and tried to make a bunch of, get this, Apple related purchases. I of course denied all of these charges, had the card cancelled, and began a very broke fortnight.

Seriously though, it's clear that these guys have no idea who the people from whom they steal are. This thing got nipped in the bud faster than I can pour a drink after my work day. Sadly, he (assumed gender) had already drained my bank account with purchases related to overpriced electronics. That's where all this beauty lies.

1. You're not going to get blood from a turnip. I had next to nothing to give, and your stupid ass tried to steal everything I had at the bottom on my fiscal cycle. Moron.
2. Really? Apple? REALLY? The only online purchases I made in the first place, from which you could have stolen my card number were were for purchases diametrically OPPOSED to Apple. Someone's got a little problem recognizing patterns, huh? This is risky information, I know, but I don't think you're stupid enough to try this twice.
3. By cancelling the card, refuting the purchases, and sifting through enough tape to get through it, I have completely voided your fraudulent purchases. It takes more effort to overwrite yours, but guess what? Your effort was actually for naught now. You've been cancelled out. How's that feel, weakling?

I'm much more careful with my (well-protected) card now, and all in all, I'm wiser and safer for this experience. Suck and fuck it, slacker!

-The0

Monthly Report 2

Well, there's not a lot to say. I'm alive, I'm very frustrated at work, but the bills are under control, mostly. This says to me that I must be treading water quite well, but I much prefer to swim. I'm actually not fond of swimming, come to think of it. I wonder what the metaphor for getting completely out of the pool is.

My good friend Ben is visiting right now, and it's nice to have company after a long day of work. Someone with whom to share a beer and play video games. He decided to extend his visit to cover both of my days off, so we get to spend some good time hanging out.

The leader of the band, Kurt, and his wife celebrated a birthday together recently. That was fun to attend. Good beer, good times.

The amount of overtime I have been getting recently is astounding, and makes for quite a bit extra in the bank. I was thinking about maybe getting another bike, a stylish one, or upgrading the old computer here. We'll see how that pans out. It goes pretty tantamount against the teachings of Dave Ramsey, a financial makeover guy I've been reading from lately. However, if this suck is going to suck like it sucks, then I want to have some fun at some point.

End Monthly Report 2.

-The0

The Eagle Chicks

As I am quite short on time lately, and tired of being so behind in my writing, I'm cutting the next few entries to short records. I'm more sorry to me than I am to you for this.

I had the rare chance to see The Eagles and The Dixie Chicks live recently. It was a gift from Dr. Girlfriend's awesome family, and circumstance could not have been more against me. I requested the day off roughly 8 weeks in advance, and due to being very suddenly shorthanded at work, not only did I work a double shift the previous day, but I was called in to cover the following day, while still getting that evening off. The idiotically optimistic way to look at this is "At least they are relying on me." More on that in a later post.

I was a zombie for the first hour of the show, which sadly meant that I couldn't really appreciate the Dixie Chicks as well as I should have liked. They had a very good sound for a live performance, but something was off. I later noticed that the singer (Natalie) had shaved off all of her hair. The most popular speculation is that she did it for a Make-A-Wish Foundation girl. Good of her, to give that kind of connection to the kid for the entire tour.

I was never much of an Eagles fan, but it was a very impressive display. I was glad to see talented saxophonists accompanying a classic band as such. Don Henley is apparently the only original component to that band left, or at least the most household-y name of them. They played their old stuff, Hotel California, then their new stuff, which I in no way recognized. They finished with Takin' It Easy, and then the show ended. They were just great on stage. I'm pretty certain I can't be the only one who thought of Bill Nighy's character from Love, Actually when I saw Don Henley. I have a few photos from the event, which I suppose I took for posterity's sake, but they came out well enough. I still got to make the event, and my life is fuller for it.

NEVER miss out on a big event simply because you are fucking exhausted. Buy an energy drink, and you can sleep when you're dead.

-The0

1.21 Gigawatts could make a MASSIVE SLI Array

So I'm taking a shower, and I'm thinking, "Alright! I'm going to be early at work! No stress today!" when I hear this loud noise. I thought something had fallen over in my shit storm of a bedroom, or that maybe someone was in house. Not seeing anyone, or hearing a response, I finished up my shower to investigate. Nothing disturbed, no one to be found, but my computer was off. And wouldn't power back on. Something, was wrong.

The LAN jack was still lit, so that meant power must still being flowing in there somehow. I flipped my breakers, nothing. I unplugged it for five minutes, got dressed, re-plugged and tried again. Nothing. I started closely examining the PSU. There it was, the unfortunately familiar scent of ozone and smoke. After a quick disassembly (yes, I'm well aware of the risks involved with that, and what's worse [probably an explanation of why this happened too] is that this wouldn't be the first time I've opened my PSU for repair purposes), I confirmed my fears. My PSU had burnt out with such force that it had made a noise audible over my fucking shower.

So, being as I was already running "behind" for work, I had to make an arrangement. I called up my friend, and explained my situation, he had a bit of time on his hands, and decided to help me repair my system. I emailed him my specifications, and he ran out to Microcenter, shopping for what he would want if he had my system, with the promise to be paid back the instant repairs were complete. "Repairs" to my system is a bit of a misnomer, come to think of it. Every time something breaks on the thing, I make it a point to upgrade to the next level of awesome. I had a 600 watt CoolerMaster PSU, and I'm now I'm running a 750 watt Modular Corsair PSU. My case is already running an average of 9°F cooler, and I will NEVER have to worry about power slip-ups for my SLI array at least 24 months.

If 600W makes that loud of a pop, I very well believe that 1.21 GW could indeed send the DeLorean back into the future.

-The0

My previous phone was DesDroid

So, a shitstorm occured while I was moving my friend back home. I picked up the bike just fine, which was just as awesome as I thought it would be. I drove my friend's truck back from Kirksville to St. Louis with his dogs in the back, and through many instances of bad luck, I had a flat on a busy fucking highway on a hot day with no spare tire. I nearly killed his dogs I believe, but we pulled through it all with good planning, good people, and everything wound out fine. I even had time that night to move furniture in, hang out a little bit with other friends in the neighborhood, see Dr. Girlfriend's parents, and then, head on by the parental homestead. That is where I finally picked up my new cellular telephone.

I have a T-Mobile MyTouch Slide. I love the hell out of it. Despite a gimmicky UI, This is Android, Google's beautiful response to anything Apple. This thing has many, many useful features that I am still learning how to use. I carry it in a microfiber cloth, because the thing is so new, it doesn't really have a case that will protect it the way I would like. I'm a bit of a spazzy klutz, no doubt, and this thing will wind up like my last phone if I'm not careful.

What was especially funny is that the official release of my phone actually WAS delayed, by 2 weeks. Somehow I signed up on the right lists, and gave my email address to the right people. I had a new phone waiting in the back of the store with my name on it 2 weeks before release day. Anyone reading this who has a MyTouch Slide, I likely got mine 2 weeks before you did. It felt really cool to me, to be on the relative cutting edge of technology, at least as far as QWERTY phones on the T-Mobile network go. Yay.

Apparently as far as applications are concerned, I realize that Android is the underdog in the smartphone world. Blackberry leads the world, followed closely by iPhone. But this is an awesome phone nonetheless, and for my money, I choose open-source. The free magic I have no idea how to practice is the magic I choose to embrace.

Long Live Google!

-The0

Aeroplane

Well, this is going to be a little fun.

I’m sitting at a near abandoned airport gate, waiting to board the smallest public flight in my life. Faint muzac plays just barely audible over the whir of the air conditoning. It has been so long since I was last in an airport I had forgotten to wear easily removable shoes. Between work, sleep deprivation, and general excitement for this trip, I decided the first thing I had to do once I had found my gate was get some caffeine in me. This was a daunting task, it turned out. They have machines with card readers, but it seems they don’t like to work without a cell connection to their mainframe, I suppose. Undeterred, I went to an ATM, and withdrew a bit of cash. With bills too large to be accepted by the machine, I tried to make change out of a machine which did not want to work with me either. Frustrated, I went to the nearest actual Starbuck's kiosk, expecting them to tell me that my money was no good either. Fortunately, I was able to walk away with a large frappucino.

Waiting for the boarding to occur, I made a single serving friend with a fellow passenger, on his way to pick up a truck. A mystery man sits in the back of the aircraft, and a woman just across from my SSF, presumably a native of my destination, Kirksville, Missouri. We are flying in a six seater dual engine aircraft, a Piper Navajo, model pa31-350. We have leveled off at 8150 feet, flying at a steady 150 knots. The lovely thing is as I stare as these little black keys, we are actually flying low enough to catch glimpses of the earth through the sporadic cloud cover. We must still be closer to St. Louis, because I either just saw some sort of refinery, or the Science Center.

This is a multipurpose trip which happily came together. Barely. My best friend, mentioned in a recent post, has finished his education at AT Stills University. His life is progressing and happily bringing him back to St. Louis, for the time being. I was there to help move him to Kirksville, and now I am en route to help move him back. I’m excited for it. On the way back to StL, we are going to stop through our college town, and of course, see a couple of the important alma mater sights, and coincidentally, the old bike shop. As a gift to my astounding Dr. Girlfriend, I spent some of my recent superfluous overtime earnings on an Electra Boney Finger 3i. Electra is one of the last companies that actually builds a quality cruiser bike in the United States, and it so happens that not only am I a fan of Electra, but my mechanic is a dealer of them (this might be a causal relationship, come to think of it.) As mentioned earlier, I will happily do my business through him for the rest of my life. Hell, if I have enough left by the end of this biking season, I may just purchase another cruiser for myself. They are quite baddass, and pictures will follow. Oh yes, there will be pics.

Hell of a bit of turbulence when you’re in something this size. Not my first time on a small aircraft, just my first time on a small land plane, not a sea plane. Experiences from my trips on those will come later. This trip nearly didn’t happen because I was scheduled to work almost all the way until the wire's edge of timing. I was barely able to get to the airport with time to spare for my check-in. I’m quite glad to be flying. The ticket cost was a fraction of the gas cost, and the transit time just over a third of what it would have been if I had driven. We’re beginning our descent now, after a 50 minute flight, at 175 knots, -650 feet per minute.

If you were bored by reading this, I’m not sorry. I find this exciting as hell. Flying web log post. Started in an airport, written during a flight, and finished on the ground

Quite a respite, a fleeting flight.

-The0