dev.babiegoose.com

they had a sale last night...

maybe it is a continuing sale, but I only saw it last night.

they lure you in with the promise of something free, but by putting up those signs of special deals they catch the weak minded fools who are easily parted from their money...

they got me.

I went in for free ice cream.

I came out with a free scoop and two quarts of ice cream...

for seven dollars.

one-half of a gallon.

three dollars and fifty cents per quart.

if you think about it, that is not that bad for baskin robbins ice cream.

although, you can get half gallons at the grocery store for five bucks...

you cannot get jamocha almond fudge or a decent mint chocolate chip for that...

... ... ...

you know, it was not the seven dollars for the two quarts that was so bad...

what is bad is the fact that I finished my quart of jamocha almond fudge in one sitting...

(since I gave my sister the quart of mint chocolate chip - because you know she likes it - I only had the one quart)

and the fact that I am hoping the baskin robbins by my house has the same deal so I can get another two quarts...

... ... ...

"All behold, he ate the pig. Thus proving that he's a Ziggy Piggy, Ziggy Piggy, Ziggy Piggy."

Posted by ryan at 10:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

prior to e-mail there was voicemail.
before that, memos.

files and folders were actual pieces of paper. There was a greater need for secretaries and such because people could not type. Meetings had slides or transparencies.

Can you imagine all of the trees that have been saved with the advent of recycling and e-mail?

of course, now with e-mail you have to spend just as much time reading and cleaning up mess on your virtual destop as you did when you had paper.

The difference being is that more people can type now, and no longer have to relay through a secretary - although that would be nice.

But because it is so easy to send e-mail, many people e-mail needlessly, and people talk less, and things can be more easily ignored.

We have been successful in reducing that actual amount of space a person needs to do the same job 15 years ago. We can work and meet virtually, coordinating coast to coast and overseas. We have even reduced the amount of "stuff" one would have to take home to work. A simple lap top that weighs three to five pounds, instead of paper work that weighs that much or more.

... ... ...

I would like to know why, then, do I have mountains of paper on my desk?

[I complain, but during tax season, my mom's house is filled - and I am talking hundreds of sqaure feet - with dead, bleached, and processed tree pulp. And you thought accountants had a boring job! :-P]

... ... ...

at least amidst all the technology, we can "meet" people from around the globe, and "keep in touch" with our friends and family who are oceans apart...

that is, of course, assuming they have an internet connection, and then one that does not have a stupid firewall that does not allow messaging or web cams...

[I could of course pay for broadband... but it is too soon for that]

besides... I really should finish painting my house.

... ... ...

fiddlesticks and broomsticks... [see you on Friday, goose!]

... ... ...

"I can move, move, move any mountain..."

Posted by ryan at 05:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

vigilantism is very expensive work.

One: there is no payment but "justice"
Two: bullets, car parts, batarangs, and kevlar tights are expensive.
Three: Gas prices are ridiculous
Four: A good night's sleep is priceless.

I saw The Punisher last night with my little sister... it was very spur of the moment as kimmie had some time to take a break from studying and we had already made plans for dinner. The movie was chosen on its merits... er... it was the only movie that I had not promised lorie I would go see with her, that neither of us had previously seen, or that did not make us go "Eh... naah...

that and since it was monday, there were very few movies that started after 9:00pm...

in any case, the movie was tons better than the [crappy] Dolph Lundgren version... A good mix of action, drama, and comedy, never lending itself too far into one, but loads of fun nonetheless.

but the best part was actually the 40 minutes or so before the movies... We arrived at the theater a little before 9:00pm, the movie actaully did not start until 9:50pm, so we ended up playing video games and air hockey. We went from shooter game to shooter game, because those were the only games I could play while eating my waffle cone...

yes.

I played while I ate.

ice cream is good.

and I realized that the theater jacked the difficulty of the games up so high that you really did need your full attention on the game [that and it is an easy way to get kids to keep coughing up quarters - when did arcade games get so expensive? 75 cents per play? WTF?]. I, however, was partially absorbed in my cone, so I did not fair so well defending the planet against the hordes of aliens and zombies that were attacking us...

after about 15 minutes, with my cone being completely devoured, we decided to play air hockey. [This was only because we could not find a movie in which to sit while we were waiting for ours to start]

apparently, the air hockey table give out free games, because kimmie and I played up to time the movie was about to start.

Free air hockey kicks ass - even if my little sister likes to cheat by using her free had to illegally block the goal...

The games were free, but only if you pushed in the coin feeder repeatedly and very fast . We had paid our requisite 75 cents, but then for some reason the game kept resetting itself (without any criminal prompting) so we kept playing...

but I digress...

I can understand where Batman gets his money. I can see that the Punisher takes the money from criminals. But where does Superman get his tights, and how does [the comic book] Spider-Man pay for the web fluid and outfits? I cannot imagine that reporters and freelance photographers make enough to pay rent and supply the needs of a super hero.

but this is reality.

we do not have super heroes.

only heroes...

"wouldn't you like to be a pepper too?"

... ... ...

"don't stop, get it, get it..."

Posted by ryan at 04:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

mr business went to church;
he never missed a sunday.

mr business went to hell
for what he did on monday.

... ... ...

I heard that once... I forget where...

I do not know why I just remembered it, but I did, so there you have it.

it really does not relate to me...

... ... ...

I am quite busy... swamped, in fact.

and yet I found the time to waste just to type out this blurb...

I wanted to share a deep and moving experience that I just had, but the words escape me...

wait a sec...

yup.

so did what I wanted to share...

I am sure I will have that experience again someday.

maybe then, I will remember enough of to write it down...

... ... ...

man.

If I keep creating pointless posts, I will not be able to defend my self from the countless vampires I encounter whilst I travel.

Posted by ryan at 03:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I never really contemplated telepathic links before seeing Tomax and Xamot on G.I. Joe...

one brother could feel the pain of the other, and they even finished each other's sentences!

... ... ...

allergy seasons suck

... ... ...

twins fascinate me, but only when I do not know them. If I know them, then they become people and I forget they are twins... except, if they are identical and I cannot tell them apart. (but if I know them, then I can tell which one is which...)

actually, there is one set of twins that I can never get straight, but that is because I only see them during the holidays, and our conversations consist of the typical "Hi's" and "How are things's" and "Good bye's"...

That and for some reason I am finding myself getting out of touch with the younger generations...

you can relate, because you've been there, but you see the stupid shit they are doing and you know better, but you are caught between sounding like a parent or a uptight older person...

I think the more responsibility you get, the more your awareness for your conscience grows...

but I digress...

I am reading a book about a set of monozygotic non-identical twins (this just means they would have been identical but due to aneuploidy one of them is male and the other is female...) where one was murdered at age ten by a psycho (a true psychotic - as in evil) and the other ends up becoming a cop and is actually working on trying to find the killer of his sister (and the other girls that were kidnapped/murdered) In any case, when they were younger, the twins were linked to each other, almost to the point of telepathy...

but this fiction...

it just got me wondering if monozygotic twins have that kind of a bond - coming from the same egg and all...

but out of all the monozygotic twins I know, this type of thing does not happen...

... ... ...

you know, most of the identical twins I know are female...

again, no point... I just do not see very many identical male twins...

I actually work with one, but I did not know until he mentioned it...

... ... ...

"Duude, you must be psychotic or something"

"That's psychic. Your car is psychotic"

Posted by ryan at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

it was weird.

I think I was interviewing for another job, except I knew the people who were interviewing me... (although I really did not know most of them in reality.)

one was an actor, another a former partner from my current company, and then two other people, who I must have known, but their faces elude me right now...

this part, by the way, is the middle of the dream... for some reason this part of the dream came back to me just now, so I figured I would capture it...

there were chairs everywhere, the nice cushined formal dining room type chairs...

A dark cherry or mahogany finish, probably oak...

but the chairs were all over the place, stacked seat to seat, lying across each other, blocking the desk. There was also a long leather L-shaped couch. It was a dark green or brown or something and the other chairs were scattered amidst the area within the 'L' of the couch.

so I was seated on the end of the bottom part of the 'L' of the couch and the people interviewing me all clambered onto the couch as well. Then my mother showed up, along with other people from my past. Except they were screwing up the interview or something. I do not think they were embarassing me, but I think I would have rather not had them there.

I think I was being interviewed to be a usurer, because for some reason I had money to lend out or something. I also remember not really wanting that job - not because loan sharking is not my thing, but because it just did not sound interesting to me. Also, I cannot imagine why someone would interview for a loan sharking position...

there were many applicants for this job - they were all waiting in what reminded me of a highschool lobby, yet it was not a highschool. ah yes, now I remember a pool room - but this was not near where the interview were being held. Not a billiards room, by the way, but a swimming pool room. its dimensions were about fifteen by twenty with windows in a step pattern along one wall, and a window wall on the adjacent wall, leading to a brick paver patio...

the step windows had candles on them and they followed a staircase up to the next floor. There was a radio hooked up to the sound system, a rather old radio I think, but it was playing a familiar song, but I guess the song was not important because I do not remember... I remember thinking that I had to turn off the radio and the lights...

everything blurs out from there... or what happens before or what happens after

I have no idea what it was about, but I thought it was strange...

it seems like an old memory to me now. Like I was actually there or something. I think, if I have a dream enough, it seems like it really happened...

I think this was the first time I had this dream though...

I tend to remember my recurring dreams...

no point to this...

just putting it somewhere for safe keeping...

Posted by ryan at 05:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

catching can be a good thing or it can be a bad thing...

it really depends on your perspective.

if you catch a pop fly, it is good, but only if you are the team to catch it, otherwise it is bad.

if you catch a cold, it is good, but only if you are the bacteria or virus whose only purpose is to multiply (and viruses are not even alive!), otherwise it is bad (for the most part).

if you catch my drift, it is good, because you understand me, but if you... um... are... uh. Bad example.

if you catch on the river, it is good, but if you are the guy who had the guy-who-caught-on-the-river beat before the turn, then you are definitely sure that it is bad and that you might actually be upset because on the flop you were at 92% that you were going to win (this is because the guy-who-caught-on-the-river had pockets - the percentage would actually be higher for the guy-who-had-the-boat-on-the-flop if the guy-who-caught-on-the-river was on a draw, even if he paired up with the non-pair on the board before the turn) In other words, if you flop the boat, and the other guy has pockets, there is only an eight percent chance that he will catch on the turn or the river to beat you.

sometimes luck sucks.

oh well, such is life.

"You start life with two bags; one is full and labeled 'Luck', the other is empty and labeled 'Experience.' The trick is to fill the bag of 'Experience' before your bag of 'Luck' is empty."

Posted by ryan at 10:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

... this knob, it is tarnished, and full of holes.

[the travesty of Joel Schumacher aside]

I spend much of the 4 hours of free time last night replacing the knobs within my house. These knobs that were replaced could very well be the original knobs installed when the house was first erected (circa mid-1950's)

I (or we, rather) would not have been such snobs about the knobs except for the fact that they were indeed brass, and very dull and very dirty looking...
[Note: we have nothing against brass, but we are more inclined towards silver rather than gold, so we went with the satin polished chrome instead.]

Replacing door knobs is quite simple. I have done it on numerous occasions. But due to the age of the door knobs in question, the task was sorely underestimated.

You see, to install a door knob you require several things:

• the door
  
• the door knob assembly
  
• Cross-bore, edge-bore, and latch bore.
  
• the doorframe
  
• tools
  

The door, having already been installed, I thought it would be the simple replacement of the door knob assembly.

but noooooooo.

Since the original knobs were old school, the cross bolt screwed directly into the knob, eliminating the need to secure the back-plates of the two sides to each other. (I guess you can save on metal doing it this way) The old cross bolt only required a three-quarter inch cross-bore, whereas the new knobs require a 2-1/8 inch cross-bore.

Again, simple enough...

except for, not really.

The drill bit that used to create a 2-1/8 inch cross bore resembles a metal cup with teeth that has a drill bit stickin through the center. That center drill bit is used to guide the cup so that you can accurately determine the center of the large hole you are about to put in a perfectly fine piece of wood.

The problem is that the guiding bit is only one-half an inch.

One-quarter of an inch never looked so big.

my first attempt at boring the hole resulted a very scratched up door. I could not center the stupid drill very easily, so the drill kept getting pushed out of placed. Think etch-a-sketch... [whoa... I hope that did not date me]

the first one took a long time... after that, I figured out how to grind out a groove and use that as a guide, although it was not quite as accurate as the center drill bit would have been.

One thing that kept annoying me though, was friction. Granted, that friction accounts for the fact that my drill bits remain in place in the drill, but it also added to the amount of time required as well as snapping one of my drill bits in half. (that could have been just shoddy craftsmanship though...)

In any case, the back-plates for the replacement knobs were (thankfully) 2-1/4 inches in diameter, which was sufficient enough to cover any and all of the miscalculations I might have made.

... ... ...

so, that must have been incredibly stimulating for you. I hope this edition of "This Old House with Ryan" has been enjoyable for you as it was for me!

Next week: Painting and Trim Replacement! :-P

Good bye, and thanks for reading!

Posted by ryan at 10:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

there is a game we play...

we, meaning lorie and I and my sisters, and sometimes eric...

oh... and maybe a couple of other people...

it is not so much a game that we announce that we are playing, nor do we realize that we play it most of the time, but it is a game nonetheless...

the game consists of one person quietly humming or singing a song, maybe with words, maybe without while other people are around...

the game is won when you get someone else in the room to start singing the song out loud...

kind of a pseudo-subliminal prompting...

you know you lost when you starting singing the song and the other person says... "Haha, gotcha!" or something similar...

you lose big time when you start belting it out...

it is quite fun, but you feel silly because you just got taken, and you cannot exact payback right away, because there are no tag backs...

not because it is not allowed, but because once someone gets you, then they will be aware, and not be susceptible...

at least not for a few minutes...

... ... ...

for some unknown reason or another, I have Gloria Estefan's "Come on shake your body baby, do the Conga" on repeat in my head (and it is just that line). It is stuck and it is quite annoying, yet, I feel like actually doing the conga... :-P

even though I have no clue as to how.

it is just so damn catchy...

I know I cannot control myself any longer...

[as he shimmies and shakes]

and yes.

I am at work.

I can see that...

Posted by ryan at 03:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I would like Marvel to create the first Biological book on its mutants and the breakdown of the technology used ascertain the information contained therein.

Seriously, I would like to know the anatomy, physiology, and bioelectrical chemistry, and neurological activity of mutants regarding their different "gifts".

I mean, how can the simple manipulation of genes turn ordinary eyes into inter-dimensional openings between this universe and a non-Einsteinian universe - (not to mention the psionic field generated by Cyclops's mind which allows Cyclops's eyes [hee hee] to contain the photon-like particles [you know... the ones that create a concussive blast when interacting with matter from our universe] - this same field also accounts for his immunity to his own blasts)?

Or how does same "accident" of genes create a biochemical and biophysical reaction that allows the individual (Nightcrawler) to instantaneously jump from one dimension to the next and back again resulting in line of sight teleportation?

On top of that, how they heck do you figure out that it is an opening between universes or a biochemical/physical reaction? What kind of equipment exists that can tell you that?

But fiction is fiction. I really should not get so wrapped up with the nuances of a universe that can change on a whim of a new writer or editor...

I wonder if the attention to detail is what keeps trekkies so enthralled [read: obsessed] with that whole universe...

In any case, I can understand healing factors and psionics - telekinetics, telepathy, astral projection - because theoretically that is just a matter of energy conversion/manipulation.

If you would like to see evidence on this, please refer to the "Of course, I do not have evidence to support this conclusion but it sounds good, does it not?" book.

But come on, genius one minute, supersmart-stretchy-I-do-not-have-to-follow-the-rules-of-conservation-of-mass man (a la Reed Richards) after a dose of gamma radiation? Usually gamma rays cause death and cancer... not invisibile shield generation or a flame boy... (the Fantastic 4 and Spider-man would have had to go through some painful gene therapy to get what they have, not to mention re-writing human biology)

but that is not the mutation to which I am referring anyways.

I am talking about Bobby Drake turning into living ice. I am talking about Kitty Pryde phasing through walls. I am talking about Remy LeBeau changing potential energy into "explosive" kinetic energy.

Those types of powers would be cool. Except, I would probably not be very responsible with them (well, just at the beginning)...

but really...

if it is all just energy conversion of some sort, then it would break it down into mind over matter...

unfortunately, that means since I do not have a mind, it really does not matter...

Posted by ryan at 09:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

[Hey!] and I'm ready to sing...
pick up my girls and hit the party scene...
tonight...

oh oh, it's alright...

... ... ...

except for, not really...

I'm going back, back, forth, and forth between my mom's house and my house most of the weekend...

you know, I never really thought moving was such a big deal... I mean, I did it in college every other term.

but through the years, I think I have accumulated enough stuff to fill a good amount of my house...

note to the fiancee: when I say "my" house, I really mean "our" house, babiehead... but since you are not actually living there yet, it is mine for now... :-P

anyways, all of my clothes and my stuff is strewn around the house.

I do not even have room for the vane or a cat! Not that I could drink all that wine by myself.

EB knows...

so I am at work... still...

because I have to finish waiting for this stupid program to download and install before I can finish my work for the day... I even left to go to the dentist and came back thinking it would be done...

but noooooooo.

... ... ...

oh. it is installing now. :-)

... ... ...

the dentist was typical. no cavities, I should floss more, but my brushing is excellent (because I do not have any plaque above the gumline, hence my need to floss more)

apparently, you are supposed to floss after your last meal of the day, because if you sleep without flossing, your teeth become a smorgasbord for the teeny-weeny bacteria that cause gingivitis and plaque.

I tried to use that reach flosser... but the floss is too big (although if you manage to thin the strand it works pretty well.) I am a Glide man myself - or the generic "hi-tech" floss...

it is not as pretty, but hey, it works.

unless you are a style-before-comfort kind of guy.

I am a comfort-before-style-but-if-you-can-have-both-the-all-the-better kind of guy.

I digress.

no.

I take that back.

there was no actual "subject" so therefore a digression is impossible. This is merely the natural order of progression of the conversation I am having with myself that I happen to be transcribing for posterity.

... ... ...

the program is almost done installing.

... ... ...

I like to beat box to myself whilst I am working.

this is, of course, quite unintentional, but I do it, so there you have it.

I have to catch myself, because when I am doing it I catch strange looks from my co-workers.

so I blush and stop.

for real... give it what you got.

... ... ...

installation is done. the headsets are going on as launch plays in the background...

... ... ...

so get up and let this funky mellow groove get you in the mood....
cause you know it's alright....

Posted by ryan at 05:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

holy cow!

today is thursday!

what the heck happened to my week?

... ... ...

I am very busy and I have not had any epiphanies, profound thoughts, or revelations...

except that I have to get into better shape.

... ... ...

Posted by ryan at 09:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

at least today.

I just thought I would tell you.

Posted by ryan at 09:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

it is impossible for me to understand...

I think it is because when I got used to one way, I have to get back into the habit of the other.

maybe, like a monkey, I am only doing what I see others doing...

except, they are not doing it (in my mind's eye) to the extreme in which I execute it.

I cannot play my ultimate excuse trump card any longer. The factor in which the excuse was concered has been eliminated. I must take responsibility for my own actions.

perhaps I need to allow the sun to enter into the room, or I should have a more prominent clock, or maybe I should just try to get more sleep...

but dammit, I only live 3 miles from work, so why can I not get there on time?

Posted by ryan at 09:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"don't sell out. If you ain't in it to win it then get the hell out."

in order to increase my commenting capactiy, not that I needed to, I have created accounts at both livejournal and xanga...

of course, I will never update them...

ever.

but they are there...

and sometimes, I just have to leave a comment.

"I command you to dance..."

Posted by ryan at 05:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I really need to just pass out, because my ass I am very tired, thought it is all my fault anyways... but really, when is it not?

last night, we played soccer and we kicked ass played very well... I have now joined the offical people-getting-slammed-in-the-face-with-a-soccer-ball club...

I now have what looks like a case of bad acne where the ball impacted my forehead...

except, I am not totally sure that was there until this morning. because I did not notice it last night when I took a shower, but I noticed it this morning when I washed my face...

anyhow, it could possibly be from a number of other things, but whatever.

so I slept in my house last night.

I must share with you the importance of lights and television reception. I will be talking out of my own experience and observation, but I believe that many people, especially people who live alone, turn on the TV just so that there is a noise in the background, sort of like having company, except for, not really...

In any case, last night, after the soccer game, and before I feel asleep, I went to a co-workers birthday celebration on the westside. I stayed until about 1:00am I think, I do not know for sure, because I did not have a watch or a phone, but kris, hiro, and I chatted in the lower bar for a bit because the upstairs was way too hot, and the band was done playing. I had previously loaded my car with a trunk full of clothes and a futon mattress (because I still do not have a bed yet) so that I might be able to get to work early (ha!) today by sleeping at my house after the bar...

well, I get to my house at around 1:15am or so, and I still have the trunk and futon in my car. I left a light on inside the house, because I knew it would be late, and that I would be scared because 1. the house does not feel like home yet. 2. the house does not have lights to illuminate the back room, so it looks kind of creepy with the shadows 3. this is all exacerbated by the fact that it is totally quite in the house, save the vents are making squealing noises as the hot air is pushed through the semi-closed slots, and it is 1:15am.

so I turn on the TV, except that I forgot that I moved it away from the cable (which is not hooked up, and will not be for a good few months), so when I turned on the TV, I get loud fuzz and static.

yeah.

like that helps.

so I got Poltergeist going through my head, as I am fumbling for the volume button in the dark (the TV was in the room without a light)

so I drop the volume to nothing as I go back to my car to get the trunk and the mattress and put the futon mat in the room with the TV. I then hook the TV back up to the cable so that I could at least get the local channels and have something to watch other than some scary static.

As I was quite tired, I fell asleep almost immediately, but was conscious enough to remember The Rock and Wayne Brady singing "On the Road Again"...

hunh... funny.

but not so funny as the fact that I did not bring my toothbrush or toothpaste to the house (although I did have cool mint listerine and floss, so I have that going for me), nor did I remember to grab a towel with which to dry myself after taking a shower...

so here I am, this morning, with fuzzy teeth, bar smelling hair, and soccer-ball-induced acne, with no towel.

that, and I was late for work...

but it was not like there was anyone there to notice anyways...

yeah.

another 24 hours like this and my feelings could move from nominal to really

depressive.

Posted by ryan at 12:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I like to use ellipses.

I use them all the time, which probably means that I use them incorrectly

....

no, I use them incorrectly.

When used properly, ellipses indicate the omission of text from a quotation. They are not to be used at the beginning of an abridged quotation if the part omitted text is before what is being quoted.

"...and then he said, 'What're you, stupid?'"

"and he said, 'What're you, stupid?'"

They are to be followed by a period of the omitted text is at the end of the quote.

"so Forrest looked at the man...."

there are also rules about ellipses and paragraphs or carriage returns, etcetera, etcetera, and so on and so forth.

I will, however, stand by my use of ellipses, because, frankly, it seems to communicate more of my thought process than just a plain period... to me...

I use them when my idea needs to lead into the next, or if I feel the need stop the sentence in mid-thought.

but mainly because when I am typing out my thoughts, the ellipses indicate that I am still thinking about stuff in my head...

so the typing stops, but the thought does not...

see...

but you do not know what I am thinking after I stop typing because I do not type that part...

... ... ...

my [over-]use of ellipses can probably be quite annoying to those that it annoys, others could not care less. Of course, that redundant statement was not necessary, but I thought I would put it there because I felt like it.

...

and the singular for ellipses is ellipsis... not to be confused with the plural for ellipse (a closed plane curve. an oval.)

Posted by ryan at 11:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

like I said before... I am where I am, because that is where I am supposed to be.

maybe you think you need to be somwhere, but the simple fact is, you are not there, so the truth is, you are not supposed to be there.

I am leaving Midland today...

seven and a half years ago, I first came to Midland as a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed co-op for the company which is now my current client...

Five years ago, I thought I was leaving Midland and never coming back, because I thought I would have no reason...

two and a half years ago, I returned for a day for a meeting with the client...

two and a half months ago, I returned as a member of a new team with the same client...

if I ever come back in the future, perhaps they will have better shopping in the mall... but even after five years, the mall has left much for want...

whatever...

there was a reason that I was brought back to Midland... but regardless of what it was, I really do not want to live here. I am pretty sure that was not the reason I was pulled back here, because I knew that five years ago...

maybe it was not for me. I sometimes forget that when things happen to me, things that are not of my choosing, that they are not necessarily meant for me, as for another.Whatever happens to me, it is something that I am able to handle, and therefore, if my life serves as an example or as an opportunity for others, then so be it.

you should find ways to server others...

sometimes, those ways find you.

but this could very well just be rhetoric, because right now my mind is really just trying to handle the next five months without exploding...

looking forward to beginning my life with my love...
looking forward to making a home...
looking forward to everything...

but that happens after all of the planning is done...

so can we please be done already?

things are piling up on top of everything, like my cousin vinny...

and I am starting to forget things...

I am starting to think about everything that I need to be doing over the next five months, and it is stressing me out.

I really should stop, and do what I am supposed to be doing right now...

... ... ...

do you know how hard that is for me sometimes?

of course not.

:-P

You can’t hide the pain,
I can see it scrawled on your empty face.
And I feel the hurt,
It’s in the words you say. They make me want to...

Scream out to the world,
For taking life for granted and I know
You are by my side when
I turn to hear you cry...

I am so afraid of living in oblivion
I am so afraid of living in oblivion

Am I so blind?
With my eyes turned to a different time or hour
At the end of the day
When we both run down and our hopes are heavy.

Tell me what you will,
’cause I’ve got to know the truth inside of you.
Can you hear what I say
When I hold you and you scorn the day?

I am so afraid of living in oblivion
I am so afraid of living in oblivion

Living in oblivion
Living in oblivion

So I ask again,
Am I so alone and full of pride
To never speak out?
This is my world, this is my world

Don’t tell me now,
I won’t feel those words, I won’t feel the lies they tell.
Can you hear my scream?
It’s for everyone, for everyone...

I am so afraid of living in oblivion
I am so afraid of living in oblivion

Living in oblivion
Living in oblivion

La, la, la, la, la, la, in oblivion....

~Living in Oblivion, Anything Box

Posted by ryan at 01:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

a long, long time ago (I cannot remember because I was not there. "they" told me about it), when man had just discovered fire, or perhaps before, or whatever, man was a hunter/gatherer... leaves and rabbit mostly - or so I am told. He would be able to "work" for 16 to 20 hours a week, and provide for himself and whatever family he had. Freeing him up to do whatever, like...

walking and grunting with friends...

or playing skin, rock, and stone blade...

or drawing pictures on the wall...

or discovering narcotics...

of course, the average life expectancy back then was quite lower... maybe even by so much as half... (probably from the drugs) but that is conjuecture on my part... (because really, I was never there - not in life or even in dream)

shorter life expectancy, longer life expectancy - the word "life" brings to light a whole slew of semantics... what is life... what is a good life... etcetera, etcetera, and a whole bunch of other philosophical shenanigans... but we will not enter into that, because, frankly, I do not want to talk about it right now.

in any case, in college, assuming you did not do homework or waste your time studying, 16 hours was considered a full week. leaving you free to do things like...

walking and talking with friends...

playing sports, video games, or whatever...

taking pictures and posting them on the internet...

discovering narcotics...

and now, if you can dig it (I knew that you could), "they" mandate that we work 40 hours a week and expect that you put in [gasp] overtime!

and since most of us are not born with inheritances, trust funds, settlements, alimony, or whatever, we find ourselves occupying our time with an occupation...

leaving us absolutely no time to do anything but "live" for the weekend (and even then, only if we are lucky)

and then people get stuck in positions they do not enjoy or in social circles with which they abhor and, essentially, waste their "lives"...

I am decidedly not one of those people (although I like to squeak when I hit doldrums)

I hope you are not one of those...

... ... ...

"I think people place too much emphasis on their careers. Gosh, I wish we could all live in the mountains at high altitudes. That.s where I see myself in five years. How about you?"

I am where I am because that is where I should be, and where ever I end up when I end up there, no matter how I got there, is where I should be then...

I make my choices.

to add to the infinite analogies of life to something...

life is like poker... we play the cards we are dealt the best way we know how. we may not know what everyone else has, but if you play smart, then you will be okay. And just because you had one bad hand, or bad night, does not mean that you should give up the game.

as you grow, so does your appreciation, and respect, for the game.

and in life, like the nuts in poker, there are things for which you should always go all-in...

but I will leave that for you to decide.

Posted by ryan at 05:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

just discovered blo.gs and weblogs.com...

so, from what I can tell (assuming everyone I read pings their site - but I think blogger does it automatically or something...) I will be able to pop open a link and actually see who posted what and when...

I think.

this will need some experimentation - with all of the controls and variables, with documentation and expected and actual results and everything.

chem lab and orgo lab were cool...

... ... ...

well, I thought they were cool...

:-P

Posted by ryan at 02:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

in regards to the check engine light, my mother said,

"You know, your sister had the same problem, and it was just a loose gas cap"

and I said, "I haven't touched my gas cap in a week. Plus it happened when I was halfway through my commute."

but, why did I not check? I thought I checked... but I did not.

because that is what it was... stupid loose gas cap.

stupid: Listen to your mother, it cost you $45.00 by not doing so.

blessed: It was only $45.00, so essentially two days of per diem and a sister that let me borrow her car while she was out of town, and it was not the $300.00+ I for which I was preparing.

dilemna: I have to go back to Midland tonight or tomorrow morning, and anna needs a ride from the airport... at one in the afternoon.

I would rather have these types of problems, than the bigger, heart heavy and wearisome problems any day.

... ... ...

Good decisions come from experience...
Unfortunately, experience comes from bad decisions...

so learn from other people's mistakes, because there is no way you will be able to make them all in your lifetime...

Posted by ryan at 04:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

so yeah, I will be home for the next two weeks... this week because of my car being on the blink, and next week, because there is an actual work reason.

the problem with this is that I have left most of my work clothes up in midland...

and my charger for my electric toothbrush...

and my vouchers for free pizza...

... ... ...

this means two things... I will have to either buy clothes, or I will have to eat 3-4 hours to get everything from my apartment...

money is tight, but time is such a valuable commodity.

so I am faced with a dilemna because

1. I do not have a car.
2. I do not have the time during the week
3. Lorie will be in town this weekend

... ... ...

so the best solution will probably be for me to get two or three slacks or khakis, and four shirts and I should be able to hold down the two weeks with no problem.

which will mean I will have to use a regular toothbrush to adhere to my dental responsibilities the moment my electric one dies...

on top of that, there is the unknown, but presumably large, sum for the correction of the cause of the illumination of the check engine light on my suv...

... ... ...

alas, the horror that is my life...

faced with the deep, life-altering issues of no clothes, no car, and no electric toothbrush...

oh, and no free pizza...

:-P

Posted by ryan at 09:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

again, I must impart to you the degree of increased satsifcation after a period of abstaining from something...

I say "again", because I do not remember if I have previously mentioned this piece of knowledge, so I am just covering my bases...

This knowledge that I do not remember having previously mentioned should also be quite familiar to you, as it is an adage that has been frequently employeed in situations similar to mine.

I have been thrown back into an instance where I must fend for myself and - *gasp* - cook...

Actually, I am not forced to cook, but after the first week of eating out all the time, I figured I would try to save myself some money and go grocery shopping and actually use the other aspects of the kitchen in my apartment aside from the microwave and fridge.

what a concept.

In any case, I am rather decent in the kitchen given a modicum of initiative (or a large enough threat), but because I do not enjoy applying more effort for myself than necessary, my grocery list (and thus my prep time) was as minimalist as you could get. V8 Splash (because I need other nutrients besides protien and starch), multigrain bread, and something to eat with the bread... this could be sloppy joe, ravioli, lunchmeats and cheese, beefstew, and fishsticks...

this amounts to less than $20 for the whole week. granted the selection is somewhat sparse, but hey, I am easy.

so for under the amount of a single day's per diem, I am able to sustain myself for a week.

but at what cost (besides the $20)?

I have not had any regular rice in about a month... I had some sushi, but it was mainly nigiri, so, really, not that much rice. Plus, sushi fulfills a different requirement in my appetite than white rice or fried rice...

my mother suggested that I bring a rice cooker up to Midland, but that would necessitate my cooking something that takes longer than five minutes. And I, of course, do not have the presence of mind to cook something a day in advanced so that I will have it for the next day...

you know... now that I actually say it (although I am actually typing it), that seems like such a good idea...

yeah, so to make a long story short (too, late) I had rice today...

it was great...

with honey glazed walnut shrimp, and almond chicken - although the almond chicken was not so great...

and that is it!

but now that I have had a taste, I think I will require more so that this never happens again...

so I might actually cook rice this week, being that I am home for the next two weeks...

my car's check engine light blinked on during my commute home for the weekend from Midland...

so it will be brought into the shop, posthaste...

Posted by ryan at 03:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I always get a little bit depressed this time of year...

it reminds me of the time when I was "shopping" at Target, oh, so long ago...

my friend, Chris, and I were being the troublesome teens we were... hanging about in places that would let us (as we were to young to frequent dance clubs or bars)...

We were cleptomaniacs, yes we were, and we could never resist a good swipe here or there or both. So as we were in Target, we were planning on taking some things... [editor's note: I am no longer a clepto... that part of me has been thoroughly excised]

As a thief, you gain an acute awareness of your surroundings. The slightest glance of a person in your direction is instantly felt, the location of two-way mirrors and cameras can be immediately spotted, and "safe" areas are easily found.

While we were trolling about the store, I sensed that a woman was following us. I chalked it up to security following around the Asian kids because they have no other profile in the store to target (well that, and we were up to no good)... except that the woman was Asian herself. At this point we have not pilfered anything, so I notified my cohort about our new tail.

We traversed the store, swiftly dropping items into our pockets and folds of our clothes, all the while aware of the woman who happened to follow us all over and around the store.

At one point Chris, being the gregarious person he is, stopped to mess with the lady.

"Excuse me?" he said to her, "Can we help you?" I am sniggering in the background because we both made her for security.

"Oh, I'm sorry." she said, "I did not mean to bother you, but your friend there really looks a lot like my son."

"So?" Chris replied, his eyes rolling.

"Well, you see, my son died several years ago, but I am still having trouble getting over it..." she stated with her eyes cast to the ground.

... ... ...

I do not think I could communicate to you how stupid we felt. I can tell you that the comfort level declined sharply at this point. Chris and I muttered our apologies and ran off to try to erase this from our heads.

When we decided that it was time to leave, we picked up a few cheap items that we would actually pay for... (we were of the mind set that you look less suspicious going through the checkout line than you do if you do not, however foolish that was...)

Being the middle of the day, there were few checkout lines open, so we happened to end up in the lane right behind the lady who had been trailing us throughout the store. We were quite tense, because we did not know how to handle this situation. But then the lady spoke...

"Excuse me," She said to me, "I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"

"Uh... um... sure?" I stammered.

"Could you just say 'It's okay, Mom.' to me when I look over to you?"

I did not think it would hurt, plus I just wanted this woman to get out of our hair. So I agreed.

She brought up her items to the register, and Chris and I were keeping an eye out for angry security. A few seconds later she looks up at me and smiles weakly.

"It's okay, Mom." I said, waving to her. She smiled and pushed her cart out the door.

So Chris and I finally get to the cashier, and she rings up the couple of candy bars and drinks we were actually going to purchase. The cashier punches in the amounts and says,

"That will be $104.92"

Our mouthes drop open. The first thing that comes to mind is that they saw everything we stole and then added it to the price. trying to maintain some semblance of cool, I said,

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... There is no way these candy bars and this pop cost a hundred bucks!"

Chris is on my left freaking out, thinking we were busted, then the cashier said,

"But your mom just said that you would take care of her payment."

No.

Way.

Chris comes to, and immediately charges out the door. He spots the conniving hag walking briskly to her car.He starts chasing her, screaming at her. She turns and sees him, and beings racing toward her car. She begins tossing her cartload into the passenger side seat and attempts to get into her car. Chris barely gets there in time and is able to grab a hold of her leg. So she is screaming at him kicking, and Chris is pulling her leg, and pulling her leg...

... ... ...

just like I am pulling yours...

Happy April Fool's Day!

Posted by ryan at 10:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)