I think when caught getting a blow job, the only thing you can do is give a thumbs up. It sorta diffuses the situation, which is necessary.

I went to Dunkin Donuts this morning. When I was on antibiotics (for three weeks), I was going pretty much every morning to get breakfast. Now that I'm off the antibiotics, I don't go as often and I only want coffee. Typically a double espresso. I've made the mistake of not specifying 'black' already (who the fuck puts milk and sugar in shots of espresso?). But they are typically so baffled by the fact I'm just ordering espresso... no donuts or other coffee drinks, and just black. I get comments like "Are you sure?", for fucks sake.

Anyway, this is at the drive-thru, a concept I'd rather go back to ignoring. This morning I told them I was very sure and drove up to the window and heard them yelling around for espresso. I paid my $2.10 (overpriced at that) and waited. I fire up my blackberry and read some emails. I had fifteen new messages, and deleted the four spams. The dude at the window (he happens to also be the manager) came back and asked for $4.27 from me a minute later, then realised that I was the same customer as before. He freaks out, yells for a black double espresso. A few more minutes pass, and he asks me to pull into the parking lot and someone will bring out my coffee.

So I back into a spot, and go through the rest of my emails. I fiddle with the radio, trying to find a station playing music in the morning. God, the radio sucks in Connecticut. I get more annoyed by the radio than anything, but eventually I notice a lot of time has passed. So I turn off the car and get out to walk in and find out what the hell is going on. Good timing I guess because the girl is coming out to hand off my coffee just then.

This whole process took more than fifteen minutes. Bleh.

I don't get the northeastern attitude. I guess it can only be the weather that makes everyone so unpleasant. all the time. I'm tired of being here, I miss the west coast.

I had to take my car in this morning for some additional coolant as it is reporting the level being too low when I start the car in colder weather. Also, out of the blue, my car stopped communicating with my cell phones via bluetooth. Anyway, so off I go to one of the worst dealerships I've ever been to. I've known this for years, but since I can't go to Pacific BMW in Glendale when I'm on the east coast, I have no other options. I had an appointment made, but of course when I arrive they couldn't find a note of it and I get randomly assigned to a very typically unpleasant mother fucker. Every other visit to a service department in California, everyone is super pleasant, and the hot girls that work at the dealership come around offering coffee, tea, water, etc. In Connecticut, all you have is a drinking fountain and bad coffee.

I need to get some rubber floor mats for the upcoming foul weather this autumn, so I'm going to order them from Cali and have them shipped to me in CT rather than just picking them up in North Haven.

Anyway, over two hours later I was on my way, after watching the service agent (not the mechanic/technician) nearly crash my car backing out of the service bay and mumbling curses at other folks in the lot.

Then I stop at Starbucks, a place normally filled with overly chirpy folks. Not today. The customers weren't typical.. no laptops in use, and a lot of cell phone usage. I don't go into Starbucks much outside of NYC and Los Angeles and other tourist spots, so this was fairly shocking to me to see.

People avoid eye contact when walking around here. My brother is probably going to South Korea to teach English for a year, and Koreans are hardcore about avoiding eye contact, so it won't be a shock to him when he gets there.

If your car breaks down on the side of the road, people slow down to gawk at you here. In Cali, you won't necessarily have folks stopping to help you out like the midwest, but at least you'll get some folks yelling offering to help if you need it. Unless you're blocking the road, then you'll get plenty of help and yelling in Cali. In CT, it's slow down and gawk only.

If you get into an accident in CT, even if you're blocking two thirds of the freeway, you get out of your car and call the police and star back at the traffic that is slowly moving around you, gawking. If you get into an accident in CA, it's the law that you must move your car onto the shoulder unless the car is absolutely unable (even then, you'll find someone with a truck willing to push your wreck).

Anyway, good to vent.

I was just thinking about a few things, and while there is a lot going in my life that I love and I am very fortunate regarding many things.. there are always things missing. Part of my complaining is probably rooted in the fact that I am single. Now, it happens to be Valentines Day (or Valentines Weekend I'm told it was this year), and so assume what you want there, but it really is coincidental because it's definitely not in the front of my mind at the moment since it's something I am not seeking just yet since there are a few things I want to straighten out with myself first. Increasing my financial stability being the biggest priority, and getting in better shape physically is another. For the latter, I definitely feel a crunch there because part of me feels that if I don't get my body in better shape before my late 20s or early 30s I will never be able to. Not because I fear my health is in jeopardy due to my lack of exercise yet, but as people age it's harder to improve your body and you have less drive to do it too.

Anyway, regarding what I originally came to rant about. Stone actually sparked the following thought, which he can explain himself if he likes.

I went to school and got my bachelors degree. I attended from fall 1998 until graduation in spring 2002. I don't exactly feel proud about it, mainly because when it comes down to it, I really put in very little effort. I had a few hard classes that kept me up through the night a bunch of times, and pretty much always did what was necessary. But that is where I stopped. I did just what was necessary. I gave far less than 100%, and in some classes I don't think I gave much above 0% and still managed to not fail a single course (although I nearly managed to fail the HTML class I took senior year because I did zero homework during the semester and did every assignment for the semester in one night including the final project and handed it in all at once, fortunately they let me by with a C or a CD or maybe even a D.. I can't remember).

Anyway, I have been out of school for nearly 3 years.. and in many respects more than that. See, my final semester I usually took 6 day weekends. The only thing I never skipped was my physics lab which was big on attendance and required for graduation.

Being out, there are things I miss about school. The student life and being in the mix with so many other people that I automatically had things in common with being at the same school. I even miss some of the class work. See, a lot of what I did take was somewhat interesting.. but the presentation of the material caused me to shut down. Being a lowly undergrad means you are learning subjects from the ground up, and within the CS program I already had much real world experience (not that I already knew the theories and real info behind a lot of it) so that caused me to lose some interest too.

At some point I do want to go back to school and actually learn things to actually learn them. Not just to pass the next test, but to actually gain real knowledge. I can do that on my own to some extent by simply reading, but it lacks the feedback system in schools... you get to bounce ideas around at a school.

I guess my point is that it sucks to actually feel the desire to learn now that I've completed all the schooling I really need to have taken in my life. I don't think I wasted my time, and if I went back in time I probably couldnt talk myself into doing it any differently. It's also one of those things that you hear about freshman year.. parents and other older folks saying similar things that most people just brush off because it's a total buzzkill attitude to try to force on a kid.

Anyway, I'll stop here since this post is fairly pointless and is starting to sound preachy like I want people to put their heads into their book. I am not trying to say that since like I said, I don't believe I could convince myself if given the chance. It's just ironic I guess.

Well, again I am starting a post by pointing out it's been a while.. yadda yadda. I do miss putting my thoughts online, which is why I still intend on doing it more.... eventually. Probably not until summer, which is a likely target at this point for a site re-launch. I still haven't really told anyone what the new features are. My reason is somewhat dumb - someone else might take the ideas and implement them first. Now, that really should be fine considering it's been three years or something since the ideas came up. Some of the features have already appeared elsewhere, but I still feel my set of ideas is still fairly unique (for now) as a whole. Call me selfish, but I want to do it myself.

Stone has mentioned this being the year of the big two five for him, and it's also true for a number of us including myself. Yay for the insurance break and all that.

The number also sort of hits you in other ways. I turn 25 this month (on the 25th) and it's not something I'm exactly fretting over. I can't say I particularly enjoy any birthday, except 18 and 21. It's an excuse to break out sweet treats (cake) and liquor, but that brings me to my point. I don't need an excuse. I will sometimes celebrate a sunny Tuesday, and in California that happens practically 52 times a year (give or take). Don't get me wrong, I don't celebrate every tuesday.

When it comes down to it, in many ways I prefer the random celebration. Perhaps a good steak dinner, some nice belgian ale (Chimay) and friends.

Now, turning 25 really means little (besides car rentals and insurance) except you're half way through your twenties. Half way to 30, which to someone in their early 20s could look like the end of the world (settled down, family, whatever). I'm not at all woried about my body continuing to age (not yet at least.. incontinence is a long way away). Really it becomes about expectations. Acting your age.

Now, for years I've acted older than my age in many ways, and now I feel things reversing. I type this at nearly 2am on a Wednesday night. I'm out of school, I'm in the "real world". People in the real world go to bed early and go to work quite early. At least most working stiffs do. It's the responsible thing to do, right?. I just can't seem to get myself to do that just yet.

I'm sure eventually I'll slow down, it's only natural. I think my plan is to fight it off as best as I can. Does that then make me afraid of getting old? Some might see it that way, but I don't. When I see older people (even as young as 30) who have just given up on living a good life... well, I don't know, it sucks.

Well, every time I post I realise how much time goes by between posts. I keep saying I am going to post more, but I don't. A lot of the time I have little to say really. I waste my time more on TV these days than computing pleasures. I actually don't hav really any computing pleasures anymore. I want to build a gaming box, but that's probably going to be next fall... I have other plans for my income.

I took the plunge and finally purchased a 7" widescreen touchscreen LCD. When it arrives, I am going to build a double-din frame for it (fibre glass + bondo + time = goodness). I haven't worked out the rest of the details for my automobile workings, but it's going to involve a retail license to buy wholesale. I am probably going to have to get a new amp, rewire all of my speakers with passive crossovers (or replace the speakers too), and a few other more minor things to get this project off the ground. $$$

I keep wanting to go out and buy a motorcycle using my credit card. My 8 mile commute takes 40-80 minutes in the evenings, and with a bike I can split lanes and stop driving at Old-Lady-Walking pace. In the last two years that I've lived in Los Angeles, I have watched the traffic get steadily worse. I have also moved out of downtown, which makes it more noticible because I used to drive against traffic.

Traffic is bad going both directions though. It's crazy. Everybody needs to rethink their living situation and swap around. Too many people commute too far (Calliander is one of these fools).

On my drive home last night, I drove under a couple of bridges going under 5mph. There were tourists up on the bridges taking photos of the freeway. It's fucking crazy.

I went to brookstone last night to get a new alarm clock (I want one with 24-hour time). The closest Brookstone to me is up in Hollywood&Highland, near Mann's Chinese Theatre. It's a 10 minute walk there from my apartment, and all I wanted was an alarm clock. But it took me a while to wade through the sea of people trying to catch a glimpse of Brad Pitt and the rest of the cast of Oceans Twelve. It's amusing to me... living in this place where thousands and thousands of people come to visit. For many of the people last night, that was a true highlight of their trip, whether or not they saw an actual celebrity.

I went shopping this morning. I bought a few things I had been putting off buying (sneakers) and bought something I didn't think I'd be buying in Cali - a winter coat. Specifically a ski parka/jacket. I bought the whole ski kit basically... the jacket, the pants (not exactly a matched pair), hat, goggles, gloves, and a headband for my ears. Hopefully this will be the last jacket I buy for a while.. at least until it feels too out of style. It is snazzy with all of the pockets and stuff.

I also had a haircut this morning. Since summer I've been going to the same particular hairdresser chick. It's the first time I've actually not dreaded getting a haircut. She washes my hair after she cuts it, which I definitely enjoy. Nothing like a good scalp rub. We have a bit of a connection going too... she's cute for sure. Not without baggage, and in some ways it's the worst kind (single mom). Ah well.

So, FlyingTim got married today. Wilson, Stone, Caniprokis, Erin/Rudegirl/whatever-she's-called-here, and myself were in attendance.

We pregamed behind Caniprokis' old house, sans Caniprokis. The wedding was catholic, and required a lot of kneeling, standing, and sitting without much direction. I had no idea what I was doing, and everyone seemed to know all of these responses to things the priest/whoever said. I would not find that odd at a regular catholic service, but a wedding is going to include a lot of denominations, no? It lasted a little longer than I would have personally liked (like I matter), and there ceremony was surprisingly political. I feel like an anarchist when politics come up.

The weather here is about as foul as you can get, but today the skies were clear. Snow was on the ground though. And it's COLD. Last night it was raining lightly and freezing, which is the most uncomfortable form of weather I can think of. Cold and damp. Later on, it started sleeting and eventually turned into all out snow. I can't say how surprised I was to see snow in southern Connecticut on November 13th. Fucking crazy.

Oh, and did I mention that FlyingTim is going north for his honeymoon? I can't imagine what Vermont is like right now (that's his destination).

The reception was good. Canadians know how to party. I like Canada.

Posted by wilson:

All you gotta do is believe.

That tagline belongs to the Mets.

Honestly, I don't hate the Yankees. However, having them continually win is sort of boring to me. I'm not going to root for them to lose unless they play the Mets, but I'm not going to get upset if they do. And I don't think Yankee fans should really be bothered by it - I mean, 26 World Series wins. That's a lot. They can afford a loss, unlike the Astros, or the Cubbies or others.

One thing I care a lot about is the misconception of a curse upon the Red Sox. Every time they choke and mess up, people start ragging about the Curse of the Bambino. So, I guess I have a vested interest in seeing them win just to be able to say to stupid people who believe in things that aren't real, like curses or magic or God, to shut their stupid mouths.

That being said, they won't win this year. I'm rooting for the Astros, but St. Louis is taking it in 5 no matter who they face in the World Series.

Calliander, keepin' it fresh since '94.

I like Philadelphia. The people are pretty friendly. A lot of things that remind me of Ithaca.

I enjoy the presence of seasons. I can feel summer turning, and I'm excited to know that fall is coming. It seems like a cheap excuse to me, but I thought that the consistency of Los Angeles' weather at times lulled me into a sort of stasis. I connect seasons changing with time passing, and with my own mortality, and there's something fulfilling about having that reminder. I liked Los Angeles a lot, but I'm very glad that I left.

The smells here are strange. There are unexplainable clouds of stench that dot the city - you can be driving or walking around, and without notice stumble into the smell of a subway bathroom that hasn't been cleaned in a year. It's more prevalent in the crap areas of town, but you'll catch it downtown, too. There are good odors too - you can smell the major cheesesteak places from a block away.

I think I'll be up in Branford before the end of the month.

The drivers here are insane. A lot of drivers here accelerate away from red lights before they turn green. Quite often someone ahead of me is halfway through the intersection before a light turns red. I've seen a lot of people simply run through red lights late at night, if it looks like no one is around. Very few people actually stop at stop signs.

"Out of my way, peasants!"

This is a Mercedes S65. It's a regular top-end Mercedes S-Class with, get this, a twin-turbocharged V12 that makes 604hp and 737 ft-lbs of torque. It costs something like $200k. Maybe $125k of that is the engine. Remember when I talked about getting a car that I could run over poor people in? This is it. I need to get one.

Stone

Stone

I'm sitting on the floor of Arjie's old bedroom, my new place in Philadelphia, eating rotisserie chicken, herb, and drinking fine Yuengling ("*traditional*") lager. I got in last night.

My new place is cool. It's big, and there's always parking at the apartment's doorsteps. I had to park 5-10 minutes' walk away from my old apartment, which cost twice as much. The neighborhood is kind of rundown, but it feels safe. I live next door to people who sit on the street in lawn chairs, wearing bathing suits, but it's cool, I'm open minded. It's near a 24 hour well-known cheesesteak place called Tony Luke's, all of Philly's major stadiums, and stuff like Target, Ikea, Walmart, which I'm actually using.

As far as I can see (24 hours of experience), Philly seems like it's basically an oversized New Haven, with a bunch of South Philadelphians added in, and all of the New Englanders taken out. South Philadelphians are like people from East Haven, with a capital-eye. They call tomato sauce "red gravy". I bet the Italian food around here kicks ass. They're surly and a lot of them don't seem to use deodorant. The Eagles fans are pretty die-hard - they're like Yankees fans, but for football. I feel bad that the Patriots have to beat the hell out of the Eagles every year just because the Eagles suck so much.

The central areas of Philadelphia are great. Again, like an oversized version of that area around Yale's campus in New Haven. Some good stores, good areas to walk around, attractive architecture, and a lot of good-looking girls wearing dresses. I don't know anything about the bars yet.

The liquor laws here are retarded and are the worst thing about Philadelphia, so far. Look, first, no package stores. No beer in grocery stores. You can only buy 6-packs from delicatessens and, I think, restaurants, and I think the only place to buy a case of beer is at the corner of Martin Luther King Jr. avenue at 2am in the morning. The wine and liquor stores are run by the fucking state! The state! Like communist russia! The prices are ass. I blame the Dutch. I'll be able to buy alcohol in New Jersey, where's it's cheaper, although I think it's illegal to bring the liquor across state lines. Gas prices are about 10c cheaper than Los Angeles. Philadelphia has something called a wage tax, where the city expects 4% of your income - I plan on trying to dodge it.

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The drive across the country. The women who work in Starbucks in the middle of the country are approximately 1/20th as attractive as the girls in California Starbucks. I listened to the same 5 CDs about 10 times each. I saw my grandparents for the first time in about 6 years. A lot of people in the far midwest seem kind of sad and useless - Iowa, Nebraska. Good looking areas, not somewhere where I would live. I liked western Colorado, near Aspen, very cool. I went to a Waffle House for the first time and I thought it sucked. I ate at Cracker Barrel twice and I thought that was good given how inexpensive it was. White Castle once. You only find Starbucks locations in higher income areas of the country. People in California are friendlier than midwesterners. The entire country between the Rockies and about 50 miles west of the Atlantic looks almost identical.

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HERE ARE SOME PICTURES:

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Keeping my eye on the game.

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"El bro de la coca?!"

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This is a rock I saw somewhere in Utah. It was big and red.

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I think this was called Devil's Canyon:

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Overall, it was the best cross-country trip ever.

Stone

Well, I posted in May.. and now it is late August, practically September. My speeding ticket issue is basically dealt with (still have one more court date though). The summer has flown by.

Most recently I went on a trip to the Phish festival in northern Vermont (I'll maybe add pics later). I took a red eye out from LAX on Tuesday night, that took me through several stops, the first of which was Las Vegas. I barely made my flight, I deplaned from my first leg to find a person waiting for me to rush me to my next flight. I boarded to a round of applause from my section of the aircraft. I was sitting in the middle of a traveling group on their way home to Ohio (my next stop was Cleveland). This was my flight to sleep on. It was the longest leg through the night. But the crowd I was in was fresh off the casino floors. The raucous group of Roseanne Barr lookalike lesbians bought more drinks from the airline and did a pretty good job of preventing sleep. One of them was continuously farting, and the surrounding fattys would make a huge commosion, half trying to get up and run. It was aweful.

I made it to Cleveland and boarded my quiet flight to Hartford. Upon arrival, I went to baggage claim and called Caniprokis and Wilson; they were less than 15 minutes away. We were going to head straight up to Vermont. The baggage carousel made a short turn, and three bags came out. None of them mine. After talking to the airline, and filing a claim, they promised to send my bags to me, even to Vermont. So when Caniprokis and Wilson arrived, we went up to Vermont.

Later that day they called and told me that the bags would be on a flight that evening, and they would send the bags right out. I called at 10pm that night (fighting sleep still, and quite cold being in wet/cold Vermont with only the clothes I travelled in (shorts)) to find that there was a plane on its way through the taxi-way to the gates. Call back in 30 when they have time to unload, they say. When I call back, they tell me to call back in 30 when they have time to finish unloading. I call back, and they say they don't have them but to call back at 1:30am as there is another flight arriving. I went through the same crap, and the time changed to 10:30am Thursday. I tell them that I wasn't going to be around very long during the day (had to get to the venue) and they should send the bags to my parents probably. But the bags did arrive on that plane, and they promise to send out a driver immediately who will call me with an ETA.

So, after a heated discussion in Miss L's diner, we decide to wait for my bags. We went to the local Lyndonville college to use their gym showers, and I bought a change of clothes at the local JC Penny's (just about the only store that sold clothes).

My bags eventually arrive that afternoon. We immediately drive up (less than 30 miles) to the concert exit. We're a few miles away when we hit traffic. We see the left of the two lanes is closed, and the shoulder appears in use. The radio confirms the use of the shoulder. We take the shoulder. A few cars we run across seem to feel that the shoulder users are evil and try to block us. But eventually they all moved, and we were about 2 miles from the exit before we slowed to an even slower crawl of about 20 feet per hour and it was raining quite hard. The beers were cracked open. Thursday night the band was playing a concert in New Jersey that was to be broadcast on the radio. We had made friends with the neighboring cars by this point, and we fired up the boombox and listened to the concert broadcast in our ponchos in the rain. Drug availability was quite high, especially for the interstate. Use was open despite the constant trooper traffic on the passing lane. We were expecting this to take all night. The fields the festival was to be held on were flooded from the rains.

We eventually stopped moving for the night, and I was in for another night in the car.

Friday we awoke pretty early with the sun, and cars started moving again. The day basically progressed same same as the previous evening. We made it past the 1 mile to exit sign, around the time we discovered there was a Subway less than half a mile from the exit (Wilson and I made the trek up for food, which we did not bring with us on the trip). And we were prepared for yet another night in the car. We did move a little throughout the night though. We heard many rumours, including that they were towing cars in through the mud. The whole time we were also trying to fight off line cutters. Folks who were in the passing lane (that basically takes you to Canada if you don't take our exit) were trying to get into the 20' gaps left by drunk/drugged/missing drivers who would eventually be found and move their vehicles. We would surge into the gaps and this little guy with a megaphone would scream at them to move on. It worked every time, but during one of the heavier sets of rain a truck with a trailer snuck in. They were in front of our car too.

Saturday morning we were at the 1/2 mile point. It was about 10am and we were near the turn-around point through the highway median that the troopers were occupying. The concert was due to begin in just hours now and we had half a mile of freeway, and over 5 more miles of back roads to the camp grounds.

More troopers were arriving, and they were putting on their flak jackets and arming themselves with shotguns and semis. Soon, we got an announcement on the radio. We were to turn around. Refunds will be given. We were not happy.

But not being violent folk, despite the fact that our car was the first to be cut off (the trooper pulled in front of our car). We had no choice, so we turned around. We raced down the the first exit back, and got on Rt5 north. We took the road (parallel to I91) as far as we could. We found other people already there, setting up camp in a random field along the road. I was scouting for information, and saw a few locals offering their land for camping/parking. I found one that would put us within a mile of the gates, Caniprokis and Wilson had already found someone else. We ended up going with the lady offering the mile.

The lady's property was less than 5 miles from Canada, north of the Venue. We setup camp, and changed quickly. I badly wanted to be out of my underwear, which I bought in Vermont and was too small. We loaded up a tarp and some warm clothes and set off for the venue. The best thing was this lady was driving us pretty darn close to the gates, and was goign to pick us up after. She had over 20 other campers there, and a boyfriend to help out.

The concert was good, but very muddy. It was still quite a walk (over 2 miles) from the end of the road where we were dropped off. I crashed hard that night, lack of sleep for days made it easy to sleep on my shitty air mattress.

I woke up and dosed most of the day. Caniprokis was suffering from the previous day's exersion. Mad blisters on his feet from his now muddied boots. He decided he wasnt going to make it up to the concert that night, so Wilson and I went without him with cut up bits of tarp to tie around our feet to keep them dry. Quite a final performance, they went out with a bang.

It was a good final Phish experience. Nothing like 44 hours of traffic for a great concert. I don't think I'll ever to get to party on the freeway again. Good times.