Where the gas flows

Ok, so its been a few days since I last posted. Or a few weeks. Or maybe half a YEAR. What do you want?...your money back? Anyway, as anyone reading this knows, I had a little person and became quite busy in the last few months.

So I learned something kinda new (at least to me) the other day. Don't you hate when you're driving someone else's car, a rental or even your own when you're just out of it, and you go to get gas and don't have a clue as to which side the gas tank is on? Don't you? Well, I do. I found out that on most newer cars, there's a tiny little triangle arrow next to the gas pump icon on the gas gauge. Click on the pic above to see an example in one of the cars I drive. And check it out in your own car next time you're driving and thinking of Sean and his crazy blog and where does he get those ideas and...oh, yeah, what about that little arrow thingee he wrote about...well, tickle me pink, he was right, there it is.

Pieces of my mind

• I was thinking of the phrase “peace of mind”….or is it “piece of my mind”? Guess it could be either. Can you think of any other phrases that have the same sound/words, yet totally different meanings? Neither can I, but I didn’t really try.
• While I was walking to my car this morning, which happened to be at around 5:50am, I saw the Moon above the Western horizon. It was full, or nearly so, and was hypnotizing. What is it about the full Moon that makes it so captivating. It seems bigger, more colorful and just different. I know there’s scientific explanations as to what makes it appear different, but it’s nice to just look and wonder.
• Speaking of walking to my car early, I heard someone’s alarm clock buzzing in the distance as I tromped out to my car. Isn’t that the most annoying thing? It always seems to happen when someone in your house leaves for the weekend or goes on vacation. You’re laying there, sleeping like a baby, then out of no where you hear that high pitched, electronic screeching that was scientifically invented to make sure that any normal human can not possibly sleep through it. You’re half asleep, but awake enough that you are thinking of going into the next room and strangling your roommate, only to realize the horror that your roommate is gone and that alarm is not going to be put to silence. You lay there thinking, “Maybe I can sleep through it”. But just as you drift off, your brain wakes you back up, since that alarm sound seems to be instinctually embedded as a fail safe so you won’t be late to work. The back, subconscious part of your brain is screaming to the other areas to “WAKE UP! Don’t you remember the last time you slept through the alarm and almost got fired!? GET UP!” So it goes, and you keep waking up, getting angrier every time, then you start to wonder if maybe it will automatically turn off after an hour. Then you start watching your clock. But, more likely than not, it doesn’t go off after an hour, and you start planning out how you're going to get over to the other room, turn it off and get back in bed without waking up fully. The only way this situation get worse, is when you’re in a hotel or apartments with thin walls and the whole thing happens, and turning off the alarm is not even an option.
• Speaking of alarms, that reminds me of when I would visit my cousins when I was younger. When I had a moment alone in their room, I would pounce on the opportunity to change the alarm on their clock to 3 or 4am and would silently have a laugh. The only downside was not seeing their face when the alarm sounded while it was still dark out.
• Don’t you hate it when something goes wrong and you have no one to blame except yourself? As soon as something goes wrong, such as leaving something at home when you were supposed to bring it with you, you brain instantly fires through anyone and everyone that could possibly be to blame. You think of the others and you start rationalizing why they caused this mistake, trying to have a reason to be mad. But eventually, hopefully, you dismiss all others, let out a sigh and conclude that you’re the one to blame and your only release is pure frustration at yourself and the situation.
• Watched “1408” over the weekend with my wife. Movie was ok. Was about a haunted hotel room that a horror writer stayed in, trying to debunk the claims of ghosts and ghoulies inhabiting it. It reminded me of a similar happening in my life that apparently I had never told my wife about. It was the summer of 1980-something, and I was in Vegas to attend my cousin’s wedding. It so happened that my best-friend and neighbor, Jeff, and his family were also invited and were staying at the Circus Circus Hotel with my family. Being that Jeff and I were underage for gambling, we had to find other ways to entertain ourselves. After playing soccer in the halls got old, we noticed something interesting about the room numbering system in the hotel. Every room started with the floor number and then with an ascending number for the specific room. So, the eighteenth room on the fourth floor would be 418. I guess it’s not all that interesting, since I’ve discovered that almost every hotel uses this system, but we just figured it out on that weekend. We also noted that there were at least 80 or so rooms on every floor. So, we did the math and figured out that the sixty-sixth room on the sixth floor would be an interesting door to look at. I don’t remember having a plan of what we would do when we got there, but just the idea of such a room was enough to tingle the spine and spawn a curiosity to see it with our own eyes. I’m sure each of us had ideas swimming around in our heads of how the door would turn into a giant monster-mouth with teeth lining the frame and the floor would start to incline in such a way that we couldn't help but slide to our untimely doom at the Circus Circus before having our nightly buffet. So, we got on the elevator and pushed in the six, watching it illuminate. After the elevator came to a stop and opened, we looked over the signs on the wall, and trekked off, following an arrow to the right leading our way. Once we got in the hallway, off of the elevator lobby area, we saw that it was long! There seemed to be almost sixty doors just in this hall alone. We started our march, 618, 620, 621, 623, 622, 624, watching the numbers gradually increase, along with our sense of dread and anticipation. I noticed that the even numbered doors were on the right side of the hallway, odds on the left. As our journey continued, we started to ponder if the room in question was even at the end of this hallway that stretched forever. However, even though it seemed like a horror movie in which the hall stretches farther the faster you run, we realized our progress as we neared the end. With only a few pairs of doors left, we could start to mentally tally the numbers up and figured out that the dubious door would be the last one on the right. Of course. I remember our pace slowing as we got closer, both of us trying to let the other go first without letting each other know that was our intention. We were about four doors away, close enough to see the door, but still not read the identifying plate bolted on. Then... it happened. Hmmmm, I guess that’s enough of that story until the next post. Trust me, it has an ending and it’s not…”then nothing happened and we went back to our rooms”. But I have to keep you interested enough to check back every now and then. Cheers!
  

A Grim Reaping (entry 2)

Here's the next entry to the story I started way back when. I had plenty of time to write while flying from Chicago to LA, so this entry is a bit longer. I'll get you caught up by reposting the first entry. Enjoy.

A Grim Reaping
The universe has been around for a long time. Millions of stories have been lived, told and read. This is just one of those.

Sara Finley felt great. Whenever she left from a visit with her father, she felt like she just woke up from ten hours of deep sleep on a Saturday morning with no responsibilities to fulfill and nothing on her schedule. Her mind was free of distractions and almost felt like a little girl again, knowing that everything in her life would be taken care of by her daddy, leaving her to care-free fun and play. She thought about how lucky she was...every one of her friends had some sort of problem with their parents. They all were so quick to dismiss their relationships as "dysfunctional" and equating that to "normal". But she knew that any and every one of them would trade places with her in an instant if they knew the joy of a true, loving parent.

Eventually she started to sober away from her emotionally induced high, expedited by the occasional siren or pump of brakes by the car in front of her. She lazily rode the dreamy state as long as she could, not wanting to arrive back in the real world just yet.

Scot Finley felt proud. The time he spent with his daughter was always better than any trip he could imagine to a Floridian well discovered by de Leon. He felt as young and energetic as the moment he looked through a hospital window and saw his hazel eyes staring back at him from a tiny angel swaddled in a nurse's arms. He would never forget how instantaneously his overwhelming fatigue evaporated that night when he saw Sara for the very first time.

His pride did not last long on this night. Like a feeling of someone walking in the room then right up behind him, an almost tangible feeling a dread crept through his body leaving a river of goose bumps in its wake. Something had happened to Sara.

ENTRY 2 How he knew, why he knew, he wasn’t sure. But he did and that’s all that mattered. He reached over to his end table and unplugged his connection to his daughter and peered at it. His cell phone displayed the hour and the minute, not taking any notice of his color quickly draining and a slight sheen forming on his forehead. Scot could only wait.

Sara awoke for a moment, overwhelmed by her senses. People talking, loud noises, lights flashing, traffic, a taste of metal in her mouth, her entire body throbbing, exhaust and burnt rubber crawling up her nostrils…she tried to focus on one…any one, but could only succumb to a deep sleep holding her by the ankles. It would not let her up, would not let her focus or breath, much less open her eyes again. Sara clearly heard a man’s voice, “It’ll be ok, you’re gonna be O.K.!” She knew that was the last thing she wanted to hear. She released an internal sigh and gave up. She drifted away.

Scot almost stood up before the sharp rap at the door sounded. He was waiting, knowing that it would come. He quickly strode across his dark living room and approached the front door. He watched himself in the bronze handle reflecting his image upside down as he got closer. He figured that his life was about to change and wanted to postpone this moment in anyway he could. But he could not. As his hand touched the metal that was as cold as his heart, he saw the peephole in front his face. He closed his grip on the doorknob and considered what he would see through the small tube if he looked, whether a medic or police officer, a badge wearing official for certain. He felt like he was in a movie. Wasn’t this always how people were informed of bad news in the movies? What year was this, he thought. Shouldn’t they call me? Sara would definitely have him listed as an emergency contact somewhere in her purse. After all of this flashed through his mind, Scot swallowed the knot that was forming in his throat. He squeezed round knob and turned.

As Scot pulled the door open, he had his eyes closed slightly and downcast. He pursed his lips, let his eyelids rise and searched for the spit shined work boots of the caller at the door. Only, he did not see highly polished black leather boots planted in front of him. He saw the boots of a Halloween costume. There were two, light brown, suede leather boots, spaced a shoulder lengths apart. Scot’s mind went blank. He started his confused gaze upward, higher, until he reached a sun-baked face with some of the most handsome features he had ever seen on a man in person. The complete man could only be described as a human, but not one of this world or time. Or a joke. However, when Scot looked into the eyes of this man, he knew this was no joke. The man’s dirty blond hair was mussed, most of it resting just beyond his shoulders. There appeared to be a day or two’s growth of a beard around the chiseled jaw and mouth. As Scot looked back down to the man’s chest, he saw a very lean and athletically built torso covered by some sort of light shirt that appeared to be handmade, with only openings for the head and arms, like a poncho. It had numerous stains that had be set, but the shirt was obviously washed and cleaned carefully. The man’s pants looked to be made from a heavy fabric, but they also had no signs of being made by production or machine. There was a belt wrapped around the man’s waist, with a satchel attached. Scot looked back into the man’s eyes, and saw many things explained to him by the man’s gaze. Scot knew this was no joke. Scot knew this man was ready to pounce at any second, Scot saw the look of a panther in the grass counting down the seconds until it exploded forth onto an unsuspecting gazelle. Scot knew this man had information about Sara. Scot knew this man had killed. After Scot stared into the man’s eyes, frozen for another second, the man’s lips parted and he spoke.

“I must apologize for my appearance, but there hasn’t been much time. My name is Pane and I must talk to you about Sara.”

Sights of the city

So here are a couple pictures I took around the city I'm in. First is obviously the city's 'welcome' sign. Then a couple flowers. It's always hard not to take pictures of flowers when walking around. Finally an interesting building that apparently had an art gallery in the ground level. Not too much say, but just wanted to share a little of what I saw during a walk on my lunch. Click on the pics for a bigger view.

American Gothic

Hopefully you've all seen the painting to the right. You may not know the name of it though...American Gothic. Well, it just so happens that the house in the background of the painting is a real house that is very close to the area I'm doing my training. Apparently the window in the upper part of the house is in a Gothic style and is a famous icon from the painting. I took out a little time and went by the house. There was a small museum and gift shop next to the house, however it was closed by the time I got there. But the sun wasn't down and I got a few photos. The first pic is of the painting and I actually took it through the glass front doors of the museum. Came out pretty good! The next picture was also through the doors, and I can only assume that it's of the happy couple from the painting. The next picture is one of the house as it stands today and finally a picture of the window close-up.
I don't know if it's just me, but I love visiting places like this. I imagine myself in the time that the "event took" place and wonder how things could have looked different, what the other people around there were doing and things like that. I also imagine all the people that could have walked around, right where I was standing, looked up into the same section of sky and what were they thinking. I do the same thing when I'm in museums. Looking at the displays, wondering about the people that used the tools, wore the clothes or painted the paintings. I especially love the Smithsonian's, considering all the millions of people that have come through their days in the years. Alright, time for bed and another day of training tomorrow.

Traveling

Well, here comes a blog entry from 31,000 feet. How does that happen one may ask? Ok, probably no one reading this is asking that question, since you more than likely already know that I'm flying on this here Monday the 16th. So far, so good, pretty smooth flying as they say. I don't have any wood to knock on or I would. This may be a pretty long blog entry too, since my flight is a bit over three hours long. I say that, but I'm sure I'm just a few sentences from wrapping it up and loading some games or movie on my lappy to distract myself. Although, now that I look around and see people with their eyes closed, reading a book, or just sitting there gazing into space while sipping their club soda, I realize that I didn't like guys like me before
when I was flying. Let me clarify that. I used to not like guys or gals that whipped out a laptop right after the fasten seat belt sign went out. Why? Because I wanted to have one myself. If you know me (and since you're reading this you do) I'm a total computer gnerd (pronounced guh-nerd, meaning a half-nerd half-geek...what's the difference between a geek and a nerd? A nerd is just an all around smart guy that has a higher than normal intelligence, while lacking in other social and coolness skills. A geek is a technology junkie, someone who knows way too much about home-theatre or digital stuff, usually focused on computers though. And a gnerd is a mixture of the two.) So being a gnerd, I have so many uses for computers. I load computers till they are ready to pop with programs and stuff, then buy more memory and load some more.
Hmmm, now that I write that out, it makes me think....I'm kind of an electronic pack-rat. I say this because I know I'm a real world pack-rat. I hate throwing things away, and I end up with much more junk and trinkets than any person should. I've gotten over collecting useless stuff a bit in my life by figuring out the following. How much is that thing I'm keeping worth? Let's use a pencil box for an example. Maybe it's worth five dollars. And you know that old saying, “As soon as you throw something away, then you need it.” Then I figure, would the tidiness and extra space I would have be worth five dollars if I did throw it away and ended up needed that thing and have to buy a new one? In the case of a five dollar pencil box….if I haven’t used it in awhile, then yeah, it would probably be ok to throw away. A couple hundred dollar tv sitting in the corner not being used, that’s a different story. But, back onto the electronic pack-rat. I love to read, and I usually end up reading tech magazines, computer articles and the like, so I’m always discovering new programs to do this or that. I end up loading them all up on the computer, some to be used, some to be forgotten, hidden away in that dusty, dark back corner of the hard drive never to be seen again. At least with computer programs, they don’t take up physical space and make clutter, although they do bog down computers eventually, leaving a good spring cleaning the only answer. So, I guess that’s about it for now, I think there’s about an hour left on this flight, then about an hour on the next. Maybe, on the ride home, I’ll take a look at continuing A Grim Reaping since there’s been interest by at least two readers. Wow. That’s close to one hundred percent positive feedback.

Starbucks Stargood

Here's a pic of a flower...obviously. What is special about it is that it was grown from within a piece of felt. On my last birthday, my Uncle and Aunt gave me a Starbucks giftcard. Inside the little cardboard giftcard holder, there was a piece of pink felt. (By the way, I know that it's probably a big waste of paper and supplies to offer those giftcard holders, but I really like them. You used to get a giftcard that was just a plastic card all by its self, but now they feel fancy and like to person that bought it put some extra thought into it.) There was also a little note with the pink felt that stated the felt contained seeds of wildflowers within and you would only need to plant the felt, water it and voila...flowers! So in late April, bury it in dirt I did, and now look at the pretty little flower that has come to life on my porch after waiting patiently in a piece of felt on the counter at a local Starbucks. Some people don't like Starbucks, feeling that the place is some sort of monopoly, but how can you hate them after seeing this.

On a different topic, I just got back from Phoenix and it was probably around 110º everyday, so basically hot cha cha. However, every time you tell someone that you'll be going to a desert region and it'll be hot or someone is coming or going there, they chime in with "But it's a dry heat." Ok, it's a dry heat. You know what, it's a dry heat in my oven too, but when it gets over 100º it really doesn't matter if it's a dry heat, a wet heat or a cold heat....it's HOT! If you're on fire, it doesn't matter if you are wet or dry, humid or not...it's HOT! Just my two cents. By the way, it was hot in Phoenix. I think that people say that whole "But it's a dry heat" thing because they've heard it their whole life and just repeat it like a Pavlovian dog salivating at the bell. Just like when you tell someone you're going to the baseball game and they have to say "Oh, hotdogs always taste better at the ball game." Do they? You mean a hotdog that's probably been sitting in dirty, hot water for hours, then thrown on a grill for a few seconds before they slap it in a folded piece of bread they call a bun, then drown in toppings so you really don't taste it? That one? It must be the atmosphere that makes it taste great.

The Simpsons......

Everyone should know by now that The Simpsons are releasing a movie on 7/27/07. And as part of the promotions of the film, select 7-11 stores have been converted into bona fide Kwik-E-Marts. So, being a Simpsons fan since high school (has it been that long?), I wanted to go and see one for myself.

My first attempt was futile however. As I approached the Kwik-E-Mart in West Los Angeles, I could see the sign in the distance and knew that I would be sipping a Blueberry Squishy, guzzling Buzz cola and opening a box of Krusty-O's soon. But my building excitement quickly fizzled as I saw a line of nerds wrapped around the corner of the building. How dare they! And there was actually a security guard posted at the door making sure the geek ratio didn't get out of balance in the store. I didn't have the time to wait in line with the other mouth-breathing four-eyes waiting to get an over-priced dust-collecting trinket to sit on the shelf next to my personally built computer. Although my coworker pointed out if I went on my way to work at 6:30 in the morning, there should be plenty of space for me to waste my time and money. In the words of Homer Simpson...woohoo!

So I dropped by this morning and as anticipated, there was only the regular flow of coffee seekers crawling around the store. I waltzed up to the front door and saw the reason for the lack of nerdism....they had sold out of everything! Well, they still had plastic commemorative Slurpee cups with Simpsons characters on the side, but it was too early for a Slurpee, even for me. So I settled for a cup of coffee and a Simpsons looking donut. Trying to look normal among all the other customers, I stood in line with my pink sprinkles donut and strode out with my head held high. The donut was too sweet, I guess Homer would like it. Maybe I'll try again when I see a steam of nerds funneling towards the local 7-11.

What the what?

Ok, you may be asking yourself...what is that a picture of and what is it supposed to mean? Well, join the club. I finally broke down and bought a laptop after many months of saving and debating and finding the best deal to come along in awhile. So when I opened the box from Dell and peered in at my laptop, it was wrapped in a very thin layer of sort-of bubble plastic wrap and it had this picture on it. Usually when you see some sort of warning sign, especially without any words be they in English or of a foreign tongue, you can figure out what it means or at least have a close guess that you're confident of. So, let's break down this image. First, we know it's a warning since it has that circle with a slash through it. We must assume it's advising us "not" to do whatever is portrayed in the middle of the circle. Now, this is where it gets tricky. It's obviously a person. And we can clearly see that it's said person's torso with his right hand up to his chin area. And now, I'm done. There's a person's face...but is it the torso's head? It could be his, as it's in the right area, however, it seems to be in some sort of box or on a piece of paper. Is the torso holding up a mask on his way to a Halloween masquerade ball after buying a laptop and Dell is trying to warn me that that is highly unadvised? Dell wants all of it's new owners to stay in and start using the laptop right away? And what is going on with the face that the head is making? Is he a contestant on American Idol, singing for joy after buying his new Dell laptop, only to no avail, since he forgot to put a microphone in his cupped hand? Dell is warning highly against doing that on accident. Well, I have to be honest. I really didn't know what the heck that warning sign was supposed to mean until I started writing this post. While I kept looking at it and trying to think of funny things that could be garnished from the image, I think I figured out the real meaning of it. Don't read any further if you want to try to figure it out yourself. What I'm pretty sure that it means is....don't put this plastic bag over your head, because then you won't be able to breathe, and then you'll grab your throat as you're choking and grasping with your mouth wide open. Then you would die and sue us here at Dell. A picture is worth a thousand words.

It positively worked

I'm sure we've all heard about the positive thinking technique of imagining success or telling yourself something will happen the way you want. What a bunch of humbug! Or is it? I've seen it a million times in a movie where the coach instructs the player to imagine himself hitting the home run, making the free throw or winning the race. We go along watching the player continue on to success and everyone lives happily ever after. But how many of you have actually tried this method of positive thinking? I mean really tried it? After dismissing the positive envisioning as new-age, movie magic mumbo-jumbo forever, I decided to give it a try the other day. I hadn't gone jogging for a few days due to appointments, shopping that had to be done, dinners to attend and all the regular "things" that seem to pop-up, however I was starting to feel like if I didn't get around to jogging soon, I never would. So one afternoon while at work, the idea popped into my head. It almost felt like I was conducting an experiment on myself. Which usually isn't the best way to conduct experiments...with the subject knowing full and well what's going on. It's a situation that is ripe with possibilities for misinterpretation. Oh, well, I wasn't publishing this "study" in Scientific American Journal or anything, just seeing if it worked for me. So, starting near the end of the day, I started repeating in my head "I want to go running today". I figured that statement would be better than, "I will go running today", because it seemed to be better to tell myself I "wanted" to do something, than telling myself I "will" do something. More of a desire than a chore. On the drive home, which typically lasts an hour to an hour and a half, whenever I could think of it, I would repeat, "I want to go running today." By the last half of my drive, I started getting tired of sitting in the car for so long and started thinking that changing my clothes and plopping down in front of the tv was a better idea. But, I would rudely interrupt myself with "I want to go running today" and imagining myself out on the tough streets of Seal Beach scampering along. The discussion went through my head a good five or six times by the time I got home. So, did it work? It did. I went running and may not have, had it not been for me envisioning success and talking myself into it, because I was pretty tired. I still wonder if the technique itself worked, if I ran just because I "wanted" the technique to work, maybe I would have run anyway, or some other not thought of reason. But, I guess the bottom line is...I went running. So it worked, right? I know there's plenty of methods and ways of positive thinking, and I believe they help with one's outlook. Thinking positively will definitely lead one down the path of becoming an optimist, but at the same time, I have a skeptical side...always do. At times, I feel like one is just fooling oneself. Like you're tricking yourself, or just patting yourself on the back saying, "it'll be ok" when you know good and well, everything's not ok. But, in the end, I went running.

Now we need bees...

Here's a quick first look at the flowers perched on our patio. Nothing spectacular...yet. Just wait until I have better lighting, the flowers get accustomed to their new home and I have a hummingbird hovering above posing for a picture. Then you will all say, "Wow, what a spectacular patio shelf."

New? Improved? Better?

I bought this cereal the other day and had some for breakfast this morning. I noticed, as you can see, a bursting splat of purple declaring "Now better tasting!" It's hard to miss. I didn't give it too much thought at first, but after eating a bowl, I did start to consider. Now, I do like Honeycomb. I mean, that's why I bought the cereal. However, it tastes just the same as always to me....and that's a good thing. But, why do they advertise that it's now better tasting? First off, better tasting to who? Do they have a job at Post where someone tastes the products after a change and said employee announces, "Hey, this tastes better now!" Well, I would hope it was actually more of a committee that does the deciding so we're not subjected to one person's like and dislikes. And secondly, the phrase "Now better tasting!" implies that 'now' it tastes better than then. Like, last time I bought a box it didn't taste quite as good as it does 'now'. So what if there's a box of the old, worse tasting Honeycomb on the shelf next time I'm in the market, should I pass on it and get the Lucky Charms instead? The whole now our product is better than before is kind of like an insult....same as the Most Improved award. You weren't all that good when the season started, but by season's end, you seemed to improve the most. And, finally on this topic, I ate a lot of sweet cereals going up, probably at least tried a box of every one that ever graced the shelves of the Alpha-Beta (local grocery store when I was young). I remember picking cereals in a particular order 1.which has the best prize in it 2.what tastes the best. So, I know what all the sweet cereals taste like, and in my opinion, most of these changes for improved, better, gooderest tastes are usually for the worst. Now, it's been said that sometimes one remembers things more fondly from their childhood and your tastes change as you get older. But, frosted flakes and Capt' Crunch still have the same delicious taste to me. Well, that's enough about that. Side note - seems like a lot of my recent posts have to do with food. I'll have to do something about that. Maybe I'll go on a hunger strike until the author of this blog stops writing about food...hmm think that one through.

Missing Pic

In the post preceding this one, I mentioned a picture of me pouring coffee into the powdered creamer. Well, through the powers of technology....it's missing. I think I know why, but, whatever it wasn't the greatest photo anyway, just something that struck my fancy at the moment. So, in lieu of that photo, I give you this site, it has a bevy of great pictures of milk meeting coffee. Enjoy!

Food for thought

This post is all about food. Well, it's not going to be a huge post that will answer all your edible item questions, but just a quick thought about a couple things I've eaten lately. First is a pic of my morning coffee. That's me pouring in the joe, on top of the creamer and sugar. A lot of times I pour the coffee in slowly, because it makes a cool effect. The powdered creamer is very absorbent or dissolves very quickly, depending on how you look at it. Either way, I can pour just a little bit of coffee and then watch as the liquid creeps across the powder mound, making little riverlets, twists, forks and turns as it goes, looking like a different roadmap everyday, giving directions from one side of the mug to the other. I suppose I think about stuff too much. But speaking of coffee creamer, I always used to use the liquid flavored creamer in my coffee. Then, when I went on a business trip in which I was working a lot of late hours and drinking coffee. At that office, they only had powder creamer. I was very pleasantly surprised that I actually liked it more than all those "foo foo" flavored creamers I had been using. I guess "coffee" is actually a "flavor" and I actually like it, not needing to add "caramel hazelnut sunrise mist" to it to make it good. Go figure.

Here's a picture of the new McDonald's Angus third pounder burger. Apparently, MceeDee's testing the burger in Southern California before a nationwide release. So, being the helpful person I am, I went and tried it (to the tune of three times now). It's pretty good, probably my favorite burger at McDonald's now, beating out the Quarterpounder. I really like the Carl's JR Six Dollar Burger though, the flame broiling makes the difference.

Bunny Lacerated

Yes, I'm finally back and this post is regarding a bunny lacerated, or hare cut, or more commonly known as a haircut. I did it. I haven't had a "real" haircut since before Halloween way back in 2005, so in almost a year and a half! What, you may ask, pushed me over the edge and made me do it? Well, two things. Cost...which this haircut had none, it was free. And second, it was part of a promotion by my favorite radio station and show The Kevin & Bean Show(K&B) on KROQ. K&B have a reoccurring personality named Sam "The Armenian Comedian" that they always make fun of and generally put-down (which he deserves, since his comedy is neither funny or makes any sense), but he seems to be oblivious and come back for more. Well, Sam happens to be a hair stylist as his day job, and he got the idea of setting the Guinness World Record for most haircuts in a 24hr period. K&B set up all the details for him, having a hair salon on the campus of CSULB as the locale and asking listeners to come out and get a free haircut and t-shirt being a part of this record setting attempt. So, on my way into work at 6am, I stopped off and was the first in line to be a victim. I actually was interviewed on the air and will try to make another post including the audio of it. Here are a couple pics of the momentous occasion....



Sam working his magic fingers.




Me with my free t-shirt and KROQ host Ralph Garman. Look how interested Ralph is in taking a photo with me. Actually, it might have helped if I asked him if he could take a picture with me.

Odds and ends

By the way....whenever a word or phrase is highlighted like this, then you can click it as a link to something else.

I posted the other day that microwaving your kitchen sponges can render them bacteria-less and clean. But now of course, there is an opposing viewpoint. It's almost inevitable when something good, easy and helpful is invented or discovered, then someone finds a problem or flaw with it. The only thing to be careful of, is where the motivation of the person telling you the information lies. For example, this opposing viewpoint comes from Good Housekeeping and who knows how much money they get from the various cleaning sprays as advertisement, so hence, they don't recommend you to keep reusing those sponges, saving money, and think it more prudent to use sprays and paper towels.

Just got satellite tv and have one question...why am I addicted to watching channels that are available locally (NBC,CBS,ABC,FOX) but from a different city? I only enjoy seeing commercials that are specific to that area or even watching the local newscast. I have no idea about the areas that they're talking about, but maybe that's the draw. If something bad happened, then I can't see the area in my mind's eye or how close it is to my home. And if something good happened, then I can imagine it being even better than it probably is, since I've never seen it and probably never will. It's like someone from Iowa watching the Los Angeles news and seeing stories on Disneyland or the beach and thinking that those must be the most perfect places in the world. I guess the world is really becoming smaller all the time. (see this book for more on this topic) I'm not sure if that's a good thing though, because if someday in the future, we can just transport anywhere instantly, then all the magic of not really seeing something and filling in the details with your imagination will be gone. Pros and cons, pros and cons.

Went to dinner with my wife the other night. There were plenty of open tables around the restaurant, but the host made us wait while the busboy cleared, cleaned and set one particular table. I was thinking, "why the heck doesn't he just sit us somewhere else?!?". Then after finally sitting, I noticed the number of the table on top of the napkins and realized fate had just slapped me upside my head.

So here's a picture of the "snow" collecting on the railing outside my office when it "snowed" last week. Weee!

And a pic of an actual snowball made in Los Angeles, California. Don't know when you'll ever see that again! Looking at the pic, I now feel like I should have ate it or at least made a drink with it. I feel that I'll never have the opportunity again. Wah! Too bad there wasn't someone around to throw it at, although, it appears to be more iceball than snowball.

About time!!!

Ok, ok, maybe its been a million years since my last post, so sue me. I've had plenty of good intentions to update and post, but we all know that good intentions are like warnings on tv that the following content may be objectionable and/or graphic... basically useless. Speaking of those warnings, has anyone ever known anyone else to actually heed those warnings and say "oh, I don't want to be offended, quick turn the channel". Maybe when someone is eating and the show is going to show uncensored footage of surgery, but even then, most will wait until they get a quick glance of the open chest cavity before they turn it. Oh well, so is human nature.

I was listening to the news today (radio and tv) and they had to announce the Oscar nominations. Of course I listened, since I'm sure it'll be the big talk for a day or two. But then I started wondering, why are the Oscars so important? Without getting too deep, why does society put so much weight on the opinions of those few people (actually I don't know how many there are) that make the decisions. Every year people debate why one film got picked and why another didn't. In the end, does a movie winning "Best whatever" honors make the movie better for the particular viewer? Probably not, but I guess sometimes people see a movie they wouldn't have based on the nominations or wins. After seeing the nominations every year, I think one would be better served just going on the recommendations of friends and family.

Quick article on how microwaving your kitchen sponge will kill the germs. I need to try it out and see if it kills the smell too.

Speaking of smell, do you know anyone that could use a pair of these? I'm sure I know some people that would buy me a pair if I would wear them.

I just tried the McDonald's cinnamon roll breakfast on the recommendation from my Mom. She said they were good, tasting like a Cinnabon. I have to agree. Very moist and gooey. Although this is probably a good thing, my only complaint is that they are smaller than a Cinnabon.