I am so smart ... S - M - R - T

You Passed 8th Grade Math

Congratulations, you got 10/10 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Math?

I would have been embarrassed if I hadn't.

Feeling Old

(Sorry, more navel-gazing.)

I had an epiphany the other day.

I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about how old I am. I notice that I'm usually at the older end of the spectrum in many of the circles I keep. Little things. The movies you saw growing up. The stupid little things you know that are history, like, really history, now. Usually it isn't too bad. I'm amused by it. It's kinda fun. I put on airs as "the old man." You were born in the 80's?! Wow, scary.

I call attention to it. Bigger, faster, stronger? No? Well, older then. So there! Show some respect, I'm old.

You might say I dwell on it sometimes.

And, well... I am getting older. Duh. But I've started to feel it catching up. More injuries, slower recovery time. I don't look like I'm in my twenties anymore. Early thirties maybe, but the illusion is beginning to slip away. And I just had a birthday a short while ago that's brought me ever closer to the big four-oh. I've edged out of the comfortable mid-thirties and am sitting uncomfortably on the cusp of my late-thirties. Thirty was good. Thirty was old enough to relax, old enough to appreciate, old enough (or perhaps I should say, young enough) to enjoy. I had a better sense of who I was (am), what my strengths (and weaknesses) were (are). The thirties have been about getting some perspective. A start, at least. The thirties have been treating me well ...for the most part. In an age sort of way.

But there's definitely a stigma about forty.

So the epiphany came when I was poking around Flickr and found a friend's pictures which included some pictures of her new man. And I thought (and I recognize how shallow and judgmental this is, but truth be told, I thought)

Wow, he looks old.

Not like old old, but like, well, old. Like an adult. A grown up. A real grown up, not like me who's been faking grown up only when he's had to.

I picture us stopping in for a visit and having to act all mature and talk about finance or the key events in the war of 1812. I imagine myself feeling uncomfortable during an awkward silence, after which he asks about what I do for a living or what my plans for the future are. Plans are? Like, what are you going to do when you grow up? Crazy shit, all playing out in my head. I'm not thinking about what he'd be like, I'm thinking about what a grown up would be like talking to a kid. That kid being me. And I catch myself. Because when I think about it, he doesn't look old. He looks like someone my age, actually. I mean, he could be older, but he could be younger too. And then it hit me.

He looks older than I feel.

Sure I've got a mortgage and a real car and a job and...stuff. But I spend as much time as possible doing stuff that just doesn't feel, well, like grown up stuff. I want to run around and play. Eat ice cream for a snack. Maybe breakfast. Or dinner. Read comic books. Dance. Play games. Nap.* "Kid stuff."

I don't feel old.

I feel young.

And I guess that's probably a good thing.

*funny how I never wanted to nap when we actually had mandatory naps in kindergarten.

Online bill-paying dumbass

I love online bill pay.

But love will turn on you. And it will be entirely your own fault.

But still, there is the love. Love is blind. Love is stupid.

With bill pay, there is the simple convenience of it. There is the economics of it. (I mean, it's like four bucks in stamps I'm saving every month.) But I particularly appreciate the way it can automatically take care of all fixed monthly payments for the car, the mortgage, insurance and all that.

There is one problem though. Though it is a problem which is entirely user-driven. Sort of by definition really, because the problem is user-error. With so much taken care of automatically, it becomes frightfully easy to forget to take care of things. So for example, having lost the structure of sitting down every month and writing checks, when it comes to my COBRA payments which need to actually go in the mail because they need to be accompanied by an appropriately signed payment slip every month, I tend to well... forget. (Like last month's payment which was 2 weeks late because I didn't remember to send it until some time after we had gotten back from Amsterdam. Whoops.) And it's easy to make typos -- mistype an amount, slip a decimal point, whatever. And when you're in a hurry because you've just remembered to make a payment at the last minute so you quickly jump online to take care of it, it's easy to just go through the motions and click through all the confirmations.

Perhaps you can see where this is going?

Because what happens next is that a few weeks later, you can't figure out why your checking account balance is so low. (Especially when you tend to obsessively quickenate. These things just don't happen.) And it's all very strange until you look through your payment history and you notice that for some reason you've sent $3500 to Verizon for your residential line.

Dumbass.

Well, that's weird...

[via WWdN: In Exile]

A brave and loyal associate full of optimism, you remain true to your friends and their efforts, to whatever end.

---

But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.

Full of optimism?

Those of you out there who actually know me: do any of you find this at all ironic?

Voter Fraud

Just followed this link from Monkeyboy, it's a video of computer expert's testimony of the likely use of vote-rigging software in the 2004 election.

Forget how you feel about Bush, if you value the freedom and equality that this country represents, it will make you depressed.

And the thing that's bothering me isn't so much that it happened... Well no, that's not quite right. It totally bothers me. It fucking pisses me off. But it doesn't surprise me.

But what is also really bothering me is that this isn't actually news. The testimony is from December 2004. What happened? Have they disproved his claims? Is there an investigation? What's going on?!

The most recent thing I can find online about "Clinton Curtis" is an article on voter fraud in June in the Washington Spectator. The stuff from The Brad Blog, while interesting, is all 10 months old.

I can't believe there isn't more follow-up on this. But, well... yes I can.

On having kids

WARNING: sensitive new-age guy (whiny bitch) talk ahead! Those nauseated by touchy-feely navel-gazing should steer clear.

(Well, it's only sort of navel-gazing-like, but still, you've been warned.)

I should first note that it's not like I'm actively thinking about having kids at the moment any more than a "hmmmm, do I want to have kids one day?" that will occasionally pop into my head. I suppose it isn't such a strange thing -- I don't really know why my initial reaction is to get all defensive over it. (besides being just one of my natural behaviors, that is.)

I mean, every single one of the close married friends from high school that I still keep in touch with already has kids or is due any day. My friends here are having kids. My teammates are having (more) kids. And of course, there are the parent blogs.

And let's face it, I'm not getting any younger. (On the outside, at least.)

The topic of kids came up talking to my hand therapist yesterday.

She hadn't gotten much sleep because her son had been up several times in the middle of the night.

She couldn't remember the last time she slept in on a Sunday and could just relax.

She didn't know where they were going to find the money to send him to college (eventually).

They're all the standard things that have come up in the past (no sleep, no time, no money), so I'll spare you any additional discussion of the thoughts and mental gymnastics over those concerns.

It's the new one that came up after reading Dooce and then PVP (of all places) that I found... er, interesting, I guess. They're about different things, but they feel related, to me at least.

In a nutshell: recognizing that parenthood is a pretty big commitment -- a sacrifice -- it had never occurred to me that a (my) partner's love for you (me) could be eclipsed by the love for something (someone) that was born (hey! is that a pun?!) out of that love.

It seems like it would feel a little like being left out in the cold.

And then, the idea of once again being heartbroken after developing this new love -- saddening. ("Tragic" seemed to be a little too strong.)

And yes, that sounded overly mushy and hearts and rainbows to me (and clouds and rain [...and earthquakes and plagues of locusts!]), but it seems to be the easiest way for me to articulate it in generic, theoretical terms.

And I recognize the selfishness in there, too. It's all about me, baby! (Hmm, unintentional pun. Interesting...) And I recognize that love can die or just whither away for other reasons, or even all by itself, but that doesn't exactly give me comfort.

And I guess the questions of the relative importance of loving versus being loved and what is the capacity of one person to love (to love someone more or less than another) are whole philosophical discussions in and of themselves.

But whatever, there it is. It's not like I'm going to be having kids anytime soon. (Especially given that the SOOTTAD still lives in another city a thousand miles away.)

Posting about the old noodles

I'd seen this article floating around the interwebs over the past few days:

Professor Houyuan Lu said: "Prior to the discovery of noodles at Lajia, the earliest written record of noodles is traced to a book written during the East Han Dynasty sometime between AD 25 and 220, although it remained a subject of debate whether the Chinese, the Italians, or the Arabs invented it first.

"Our discovery indicates that noodles were first produced in China," the researcher from the Institute of Geology and Geophysics, Chinese Academy of Sciences, Beijing, explained to BBC News.

I found the article interesting simply as a self-professed noodle-lover (in addition to being a damn rice-eater). It was also somewhat noteworthy in the frequency of its appearance in my day-to-day random internet wanderings.

But only now have I been moved to post about it so I could give props to Yi for her concise assessment on the matter.

Short and sweet. Nice.

Gulls and Galleries

Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

Finally got the pictures out of the camera and up online; a few others have been posted to Flickr. You can find the rest if you know where to look... (you could also ask, if you wanted to.)

This one is from the dock on Lake Maggiore in Stresa, Italy, before catching the ferry to Isola dei Pescatori for the reception.

At it again

Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

Licked

I'm not sure what his deal is, but one of the cats has been regularly climbing up onto my shoulders and aggressively licking my head since we got back from Europe. The shoulder thing is fairly common, and he's done the licking thing in the past -- usually after I've gotten back from a run or if I've just washed my hair. It's the frequency and persistence that's so weird. It's kind of endearing, but it's also getting kind of annoying, especially since I'm beginning to get a little concerned that my head is going to start smelling like cat butt.

hitting the ground running

Back last night from a whirlwind trip to Italy and Amsterdam, and already back to the grind today. I'm hoping to post more later, but for now, it's time to play catch up.

Trying to tell me something

One of the conversations I had with K at her birthday gathering (yes, the one with the book of what we've learned) was about the expression "somebody's trying to tell me something." You know: when circumstance and the confluence of events seem to form patterns or suggest some deeper meaning, as if someone behind the scenes were manipulating things in such a way to, well, send me a message.

These days, it seems like I get that feeling a lot. But I remain skeptical, and at the time, that's basically what I told K. When you get that feeling, I said, no one's trying to tell you anything, that's just your own head doing its thing. The brain is designed to organize information, find patterns, look for meaning -- that's what it does. I guess technically that is someone though -- that's you telling yourself something. But does your subconscious really know better, or is it just rationalization? Is it just making excuses?

It's been a rough year. I've already mentioned that (in a relative sense, at least) life is still pretty good, but given the relative suckitude day-to-day, sometimes I quietly wonder to myself, "does somebody out there have it out for me or something?" But, y'know, I don't really subscribe to the sentient divine -- that there's some dude sitting up in the sky, big white beard or no, deciding the minutiae of everybody's everyday lives. TheWandis suggested that maybe He has it out for me precisely because I don't believe in Him.

Well, maybe.

I accept that there are things that I don't understand. But I'm also a nerd, so for me, it always gets back to probability and statistics and well, coin flips. You know, the whole thing where the probability is always 50/50, meaning that even though statistically, over time, you should end up with an approximately equal number of heads and tails, that fact remains that for any given flip, and even any flip is a sequence of flips, the odds for that one flip are still 50/50. Meaning, nothing in the probability excludes the possibility that you could call heads on 1000 coin flips and get 1000 tails in a row. Someone trying to tell you something? (Well, besides me trying to explain how bad luck is just luck.) No, it's just luck in it's purest form. Probability. It's not you being unlucky... well ok, it is. But what I mean is that a person isn't intrinsically unlucky, we just say a person is unlucky when he suffers from unfortunate circumstance.

Luck, and shit, happens.

So, recently it's felt like somebody has been trying to tell me that I should give up on massagemuscular therapy school. What are the signs? Well, for one, things seem to keep happening to my hands. This past March, I scraped up both my hands, because on a long training run... I just fell down. I can't think of one single other occurrence in over 20 years of running where that's happened just running along the street, even the ones where I've rolled ankles. Then in June, I sliced open my right hand doing dishes. And then in July I tore a ligament in my thumb (and subsequently had surgery in August). And a few days after I officially got the (second) splint off (after the cast and the first splint), the day the rehab therapist told me I was making great progress, I cut my hand again washing dishes. (Thankfully, just a superficial cut -- yay! Dull knife! *sigh*) Then, deathly ill during the first week of class. And then this week where I couldn't find enough practice bodies for technique homework. I had one for today but she cancelled yesterday because she had gotten sick. I tried to schedule a massage for myself (we can use that as a substitute for homework twice a semester), and never got a call back. I was feeling pretty frustrated last night, trying to scramble and get in touch with classmates at the last minute. *

Really, is someone trying to tell me something? At this point I'm not sure whether I'm being rational, or just stubborn.

But, y'know, I take a weird approach to this sort of thing. Especially when it comes to giving up on something. Am I just being a quitter? I'm afraid that I'm just taking the easy way out, the path of least resistance, which is something I have come to realize drove a lot of my decisions growing up: avoidance in the face of challenge and adversity. So sometimes I do things because I'm intentionally trying to stare down my desire to do the easy thing. Unfortunately, that whole process muddles my ability to figure out what it is that I really want to be doing. And you throw in the signs and portents, and it's all over -- it's an exercise in trying to figure out what is real and what is manufactured, and really it's effectively flying blind, taking shots in the dark. It's using the force.

So you do it. If just for the sake of doing it. The SOOTTAD was talking to me about that. She left a framed Goethe quote with me when she moved:

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness... There is one elemental truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too... A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance which no one could have dreamed would have come their way. Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.
-Goethe

It's funny. At least three people, maybe more, made comments last week during class about me being in my head, or needing to get out of it, and I suppose this is what they were talking about. Help! I've fallen into my head and I can't get out! I think I told one of them that I could turn it off. I suspect that I lied.

It's troublesome at times, but I think sometimes that it's only through the mental exercises and gyrations that gets me through some of life's darker moments -- the frustrations, depression, malaise, the badness. Things may be crappy, but it can help me realize that it's not me, it's not in my circle of concern, it's not in my circle of control. I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me. (Or not.)

And there are times when I do fall in... but at some point, I just throw it all out, close my eyes and take a step. But I suppose from the outside it looks just as much like an outcome arisen after much analysis and deliberation. Unless of course they're close enough, just before, to hear me say: "fuck it."

And then I can only hope that I won't, once again, be thwarted by circumstance.

* I was feeling pretty disappointed about that initially because I didn't hear back from any of them. But then I got an email, and another classmate called this morning. Which made be feel a lot better about things, even though the one called back later this afternoon to cancel because her plans changed unexpectedly.

...and Blingo was its name-O

So I just got an invite from a friend for this "new" search engine called Blingo. Here's the form-letter email:

I've been using Blingo to search the web. It's just like
searching at Google or Yahoo except Blingo gives away prizes,
like iPods and PlayStation Portables. Check it out and sign up
as my Blingo Friend.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Tallasiandude has invited you to visit Blingo and join Blingo
Friends. Blingo gives away prizes every day just for searching
the web: 60 prizes yesterday and 1,327 prizes in the past 30
days.
To visit Blingo and see your invitation, click here (or
paste the link into your browser):

http://www.blingo.com/friends?ref=g2LslU7aTlLQ-O7MZKpg4k0miWY


Thanks,
The Blingo Team

I find it amusing that they state that it's "just like searching at Google." I mean, yes, it is... but in a literal sense: it's not some other search engine, they really are using the Google search engine, only you have to go through their front end. I find it somewhat disingenuous, but I guess it's really the opposite: it's freakish transparency. "Hi! We're a search engine, but we're not really a search engine, we're just using someone else's search engine and tacking on a gimmick to make some dough!" It feels like some kind of underhanded scheme, even though I'm sure it's all kosher and they've got all the legal I's and T's dotted and crossed. But if they're serving their own ads, I'm curious as to what Google is getting out of the deal, since I thought that was their revenue model. A fixed license fee? A percentage?

It kind of reminds me of the web portal iWon.com, which gave away free money to use their services, and which I'm surprised still exists. (Looks like they got bought out by askJeeves, which apparently is itself getting subsumed by InterActiveCorp) I figured that kind of thing went the way of the dinosaurs, the internet bubble and soaring NASDAQ stocks, but I guess there will always be yet another way to exploit a person's desire to get something for (almost) nothing.

Speaking of which, feel free to be my Blingo friend, although I admit that even suggesting it makes me feel a little dirty. I certainly don't expect to remember to use them. And honestly, I don't want to encourage people to spread what is effectively yet-another-chain-letter in order to get more free stuff like all those free iPod deals. (although at least you don't have to sign up for an actual service that will cost you money after you forget to cancel when the trial membership period expires.)

Time Out For Fun

An interview with Mark Mothersbaugh [thanks, Cardhouse].

Mothersbaugh has since written songs for more than a hundred television shows and movies, including Pee Wee's Playhouse, The Rugrats Movie, and The Wacky Adventures of Ronald McDonald: The Visitors from Outer Space, as well as a number of jingles -- though he never misses an opportunity to adulterate. He's suggested that it's "?entirely possible" he's embedded the words "Sugar is bad for you" into a cereal commercial; and he has admitted to sneaking the phrase "Question Authority" into a kids' show tune.

In high school, I remember taping a bunch of songs on an old reel-to-reel audio recorder with a some friends and swapping reels and doing the whole play it backwards thing. We tried a few songs, but I specifically remember trying "Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen and "Time out for fun" by Devo. I remember there being a rumor floating around that there was supposed to be some kind of message on the Queen song but we couldn't hear it. (although this does a pretty good job of pointing it out.) However, with the Devo song it was pretty clear that it was back-masked. When played backwards, at the point where they sing the chorus:

"Time out for fun!"

you hear:

"They'll call time out!"

Yes, they will. I've learned that. But it was still cool and fun back when we were young and carefree. Well, as carefree as you're gonna get when you're in school. It's all relative afterall.

I also love this quote:

MM: Here's what it was. Somewhere around 1974, a friend of ours, Chuck Statler, came over to where we were rehearsing. He said, "Check this out." It was a Popular Science article all about laserdiscs. "Everyone will have them next year!" it said. And they were described as whole albums which not only had sounds, but visuals. You could almost get a whole movie on them, the original ones, and they looked just like a vinyl record. And we thought, "Damn! That's the end of rock and roll, because the great artists are going to be the ones who are into both sound and vision."

We became totally convinced then that we wanted to make art for that world -- the one beyond rock and roll, which we were sure was going to be populated by people who had something to say both visually and musically. Which felt good to us, since we were visual artists in college. So we were writing music that was saying good-bye to rock and roll. That's what we thought we were doing: deconstructing music that was popular at the time -- disco and concert rock, like Styx and Foreigner. The message for that music was "I'm white, I'm stupid, I'm a conspicuous consumer and I'm proud of it." Disco, on the other hand, was music that was like a beautiful woman with no brain.

Good stuff.

What I've Learned...

My friend K celebrated her birthday at a bar in town tonight. Juje (with whom I carpooled) said it was like she was holding an open house -- K looking pretty hawt decked out in her colorful and festive dress, receiving wave after wave of well-wishing friends, socializing, mingling. Only, at a bar. Pretty cool.

But what I found even more cool was the book that was circulating -- a journal of fine hand-pressed paper with a brightly colored cover -- which K was requesting we fill with notes of the things we've learned in life.

It's always tricky to come up with something to write that's going to stick around for a while, like a BFF message in a yearbook, or a note in a wedding guestbook, even a birthday card. It'd be nice to say something meaningful. Not too wordy, not to trite. Maybe clever, hopefully a little funny. But it shouldn't sound like you had to pull teeth to come up with something, which of course is like saying "don't think of an elephant." (sorry, it's just on my brain today. I didn't even link to it!)

At least that's how it is for me. I can't say how other people approach it.

But anyway, I liked the idea of writing down what I've learned, so I figured I'd post the things I wrote today, and maybe I'll post others as they come to me. (Yeah, it'd be like... I'd think of something and then I'd write about it on the interweb. Like... a web-log... what a crazy idea!)

Ok, we'll try not to be cynical for a few moments so I can type these in, so here they are:

No matter how much you plan for the unexpected,
there's a reason it's called the unexpected...

joy and wonder are most often found in the spaces between the big stuff that you plan to do.

beauty is most often found in the little things that you weren't looking for.

An ounce of gold is not worth an ounce of time.

sometimes life's lessons come after dinner.

The Genie

This is something my friend Hedge forwarded to me:

"Gini was an Italian statistician who invented a very simple way to rate the relationship between the richest and poorest ten per cent of the population in any given country. A rating of zero in his coefficient means that there's no inequality: everyone in the land has exactly the same income. (Obviously nowhere like this actually exists.) A rating of one means that one individual is hogging the entire wealth of the land. (Some African states are a bit like this, with one gigantic palace for the president and a starving population.) If you'll allow me to play on words, think of inequality as a genie. A Gini rating of zero means this genie is absent, and a rating of 1 means the genie is there, squatting over the land like a malevolent monster. Because, yes, this genie is evil. Rather than giving you three wishes, he's going to take all your happiness away and replace it with envy, bitterness, insecurity and resentment. Unless, that is, you're already unusually rich."

there's more. Check it out, it's pretty interesting.

It's interesting to note that on the inside, I secretly cringe whenever he talks about Communism as a good thing. Perhaps I was properly programmed during the Cold War and ensuing nuclear arms race or I know enough bad things from China's history. Or maybe it's just that the word has been so vilified by contemporary American dialog that you probably couldn't bring it up without having to deal with a lot of kneejerk responses to the mere mention of it.

And come to think of it, I kneejerk on "Welfare state." I think, "no, an institutionalized welfare state is BAD! It'll be abused. People will take advantage of it. Laziness! Evil! blahbitty blah blah..." And then it occurred to me that I'm not certain that's exactly what he's talking about. Or maybe it is. But even so, the issue is much more complex that "Lazy people will take advantage of the system!" Which is exactly what George Lakoff was talking about -- framing the debate. More food for thought.

Of course, these days when I think about Capitalism, I almost immediately think: greed, irresponsible, selfishness. Well, that and the Oingo Boingo song...

Given that, I'm not sure where that leaves me at this point.

Sick sucks

So on top of the SOOTTAD moving to Chicago (yeah, old news) and still having a mostly non-functional left hand (progress is being made, but I still don't have clearance to take the splint off, and even then, it's going to be several weeks before things start getting back to normal), I've basically been sick since I got back from dance camp.

the sore throat basically started the day after we got back, and by Thursday, it felt on par with the sore throat from back when I had mono in college. I was concerned enough to try and see a doctor about it and ended up seeing the same NP that misdiagnosed my thumb. She confirmed that it wasn't strep and I turned down the Rx for a cough suppressant with codeine, figuring I had plenty of expectorant and vicadin at home if I really needed it. I tried to suck it up, but then the cough started. And then the shrill wheezing sound showed up. And at that point, I was having dinner at Gro's, and after she started making pertussis jokes, I started worrying that it really might be more serious that just another run-of-the-mill upper respiratory viral infection. I mean, I'd been hanging around with my friend Juje, and she's had this crazy cough (crazy SCARY, not crazy awesome) for almost 8 months, and was actually diagnosed with whooping cough a while back.

So that was the start of the whooping cough scare. Enough to look things up on the web, note the symptom similarities with the early stages (sore throat, unproductive dry cough, increasing severity of the cough), and call the doctor again today. Apparently the receptionists at doctor's offices are keyword driven just like giant internet search engine. Despite sounding like death warmed over as I tried to describe the history of my symtoms and previous visit, she seemed pretty blasé until I was able to rasp the words "whooping cough." She actually went and talked to the doctor at that point (or other people in the office, at least), and eventually coordinated getting a pertussis test kit sent over from the hospital to the local "Urgent care" clinic and planned on getting a prescription for antibiotics phoned in to the local pharmacy. I should have just told them I'd go to Newton-Wellesley, it probably would have been faster. But as it was, the whole process of getting the test and prescriptions and all ended up taking over 3 hours. Nothing like sitting in an over-air-conditioned waiting room trying not to cough on the other patients. Ugh.

So despite being opposed to the overuse of antibiotics in a one-size-fits-all healthcare system, I ended up with an antibiotic prescription and that codeine stuff that I tried not to get last week. I feel bad enough that I'm hoping that it's actually the right thing to do.

The only positive thing that came out of all of this is that instead of the 10-day program of erythromycin that I was expecting, the Urgent care doctor prescribed this new stuff called Zmax (azithromycin) that only takes one dose. Crazy shit. And bonus: voucher for a free sample. And double multi-ball bonus: they'll give me $5 to take a survey afterwards.

So anyway... that's what I've been up to recently. Oh yeah, and I went to class yesterday because they have a really annoying make-up policy and I can't afford to miss any classes. That didn't help. And I'm hoping I didn't actually get anybody *else* sick. And maybe I'll actually write about dance camp eventually, but right now, it's all about the relative suckitude.

It's no 9/11. It's no Katrina aftermath.

I understand this.

But it be really nice to not have to actually expend energy convincing myself how lucky I have things. Right now, I still feel like ass (and if you note some of the side effects of most antibiotics, that could be taken literally).

Progress

Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

Last day before the pin came out. (Thursday night.)

Now that it's out, it seems to be healing up quite nicely.

Google Ads

Adding Google AdSense ads, just for shits and giggles. Let me know (via email or comments) what kind of links turn up, I'm kind of curious what it's going to come up with.

Funny business at the gas pump

We had missed the sharp run up on gas prices over the weekend, isolated as we were from the rest of the world while we were at dance camp. On the drive home Monday, I remember seeing all the prices over three dollars at the local gas stations and thinking: the gas sure is expensive up here in New Hampster, maybe I'll just put a couple of gallons in the tank while we're here and do a proper fill-up when we get back to civilization. I figured it was just an issue of price gouging due to being in a remote area.

Hey, it's not like I never make mistakes.

I finally had to fill the tank for real yesterday, and by then, I'd come to see the reality of the situation. Wow, I remember when I was suffering sticker shock when the price hit 2 bucks. And all discussions aside of prices still being relatively cheap compared to historical prices when adjusting for the value of the dollar (no longer true, it would seem) or compared to the prices in other countries, it still stings, to say the least. Personally, I'm taking advantage of my contractor status and working from home as much as possible. And I switched back to regular unleaded again. The Batmobile likes the premium, but it can handle the 87 if it has to.

But I had to fill the tank yesterday, and I have to say it was an interesting experience.

First thing of note: several gas stations are refusing to take credit cards. At first I just figured that the pump was broken or too old to handle the new supersized prices, something I had read in an article earlier in the week. But no, it's not that they can't -- it's that they won't. Or rather, they can't afford to. The subject had come up during dinner on Monday, when it came up that some stations might start refusing to accept credit cards because while the credit card commission is based on a percentage of the total sale (a number which continues to increase with the price), the amount of profit (often only a few pennies per gallon) remains fixed. Which means at some point, the gas stations cannot make money if they accept credit cards.

I found this pretty frustrating, but I guess I can understand where they're coming from. I think I hit two gas stations around Main Street before I figured out what was going on. The Hess on Prospect was at $3.15 for regular. The Exxon on Main was $3.19 but I figured they'd fer sher take the plastic. Nope. Resigned, I headed up towards Trapelo where I remember seeing the Shell selling regular for $3.15. I figured that since it was closer to the house and sorta on the way, I'd check it out, and if they only took cash, I'd just suck it up.

But on my way up, I thought I'd entered bizarroland.

Originally uploaded by tallasiandude.

Yes, that's REGULAR at $3.429, and the mid-grade and PREMIUM just under 3 bucks.

It didn't register at first, and I had to pull into the parking lot of an apartment complex up the road in order to turn around and get back. Even as I drove up, I figured it was just a trick to lure people in -- the old bait-and-switch routine or something. Sorry, we're just fuckin' with you. We're totally out. But no, those really were the prices. AND... they took credit cards.

It's a crazy world, I tellya. A crazy world.