Thursday, December 21, 2006
(sidenote: Me being so blase about this video was probably just sour grapes for not ever ending up at a party like this.....that I can recall, anyways)
Today's vapidity and utter lack of music on mainstream music television reminds me of some old lyrics from Mason Jennings' Where has the music gone?
"and mtv too, what's the deal with you
i'm so sick of your sexy-dancing teeny-bopper crew
what's up with the guns, i hate the word whore
if money makes you act like that i think i'll stay poor
one day you will say
where has the music gone
you'll turn on your radio only to find
it's all been replaced by dollar signs
and you'll still find us
kicking out the rock down on first avenue
you can do your best to try and put up a fight
it won't do no good because the vibe is too tight"
Is Fiona dancing around pretty close to naked? Sure. But she makes it sexy & erotic & primal, a) rather than the contemporary method of mounting a video camera directly onto her jiggling ass, and b)despite the fact that she doesn't fit into the modern archetype for a beautiful woman (except for the skinny part)
Sunday, November 26, 2006
This is the one with the guy holding on to his chin while asking, "What if I swore less?"
What kind of people would spend money on shit like this?? Do you think if I stop saying "SHIT!" the concept of feces will disappear from this planet?
Or perhaps if I don't yell "FUCK!" when I'm pissed off or frustrated, your 8 year old won't know about intercourse until you're good & ready to tell them? (that is, the day before you send him/her off to college)
You're living in a dream world and are trying to hide from reality, where people express themselves. And, are trying to instigate some really sick anti-utopia where nobody exhibits emotion. That creepily reminds me 1984. You might want to try re-reading that.
And another thing. What if, instead of yelling "FUCK!", I yell "COITUS!" or" PENETRATION!"??? Would THAT make you happy? I doubt it. (That is, if you're literate enough to know what coitus means) They're perfect synonyms--there's nothing inherently bad about letters arranged to make sounds. Even when I yell "JESUS CHRIST!", "OH GOD!" and in the rare case "HOLY MOTHER MARY!" you treat that as an explicative too.
What then, is an explicative?
According to Merriam-Webster:
Pronunciation: ek-'spli-k&-tiv, 'ek-spl&-"kAt-
: serving to explicate; specifically : serving to explain logically what is contained in the subject
Put simply--- it's all about the thought & the concept -- they simply don't want me expressing my emotion. Their message is to stay quiet, bow your head, don't disturb the peace, and be obedient.
FOR UNDER CARNAL KNOWLEDGE YOU!!!!!!! Your citizenship should be revoked for trying to suppress the freedom of speech. Try thinking for just a second, will you?
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Today I took my new(slightly used craigslist purchased) Gary Fisher Sugar 293 out for it's second ride at Lebanon Hills in Eagan. I have lots to learn, but I'm definately improving. I did two loops, which take me approximately 35 minutes each. On the second loop, albeit more fatigued, I made it through several technical sections (i.e. rock gardens) that I crashed on the first loop.
Don't worry about me crashing. On a road bike, crashing is a big concern, but on a mountain bike, you're not moving as fast (at least me, anyways) so you don't impact as hard--even if you happen to be colliding with trees and granite. Much like the reason rugby players don't wear pad, but football players do. You just get up, dust yourself off, and get going.
Just like skiing--if you're not falling, you're not trying hard enough.
It was interesting to see more experienced bikers on the course. As a beginner mtb'er, I can't fly through the tricky stuff like they do and they gain ground on me. But as an offseason triathlete, when we get to hills, I leave the garden variety mtb'er in the dust.
I think I would do quite well in such an apocalyptic situation and here's a few bulletpoints supporting that claim.
-For one, I live on the third floor of a damn secure building. First thing--my door swings out. Zombies could push all day and it wouldn't open. On top of that, it would be easy to barricade the door, all I would have to do is fit the couch in the hallway. It took me at least 3 hours to get the damn thing through the door, and I doubt zombies can do complex geometry problems, even if they break the door. And, I can conveniently jump out the window onto the poolhouse, and get to my car, if I needed to get out.
-I have many household chemicals that could also double as molotov cocktails. I loathe cleaning, but I did minor in Chemistry.
-My car is very reliable(for the most part), has plenty of horsepower, is fairly fuel efficient, and is beefy enough to plow through crowds of zombies blocking the road. I'm pretty sure I would have no difficulties making it to an abandoned(yet not looted) gas station in rural North Dakota. And just for Pedro--with a little welding, I'm pretty sure a chainsaw could be mounted directly onto my hood.
-Should my car break down or run out of gas, my road bicycle(and I) has been able to reach speeds up to 33.9mph on flat ground, and well over 45 downhill. That should keep me out of harm's way as long as the zombies don't discover a meth lab.
-I own a knife big enough to give Crocadile Dundee a hardon. "Neh aet's uh nahf!"
-I have all kinds of things I could kill a zombie with. Not all weapons, per se, but I have the gift of improvisation. I could bash a zombie dead with my bike pump or something. I'm sure everyone would stop in comic relief to laugh at the sound my acoustic guitar would make when I windmill-smash it Rhett Miller-style over the head of the undead. Jennie would probably whip out her camera and take a video and Erin would totally freak out. Also, growing up on the farm has given me lots of hands-on experience with hammers, nailguns, chainsaws, bullwhips(castlevania!), Shit, I think we even had an old scythe laying around somewhere. And I don't think a branding iron or a cow prod has ever been used in a zombie movie before, but I bet that if we took a poll, 9 out of 10 survivors would agree that using branding irons & cow prods on zombies would all encompassingly rock.
-My physics professor taught me how to easily make a railgun.
-I've watched every episode of MacGyver. That has to count for something.
-I can run for 8+ miles without stopping. If you're getting short of breath just thinking about that, imagine how Joe Zombie might feel. Hey, he wants brains, but I'm going to imagine the low-lying fruit will be his first priority. And really; I don't need to run 8 miles anyway. I only need to run farther than you. If I get chased, I'm going to lead my pursuers to easier prey....like a White Castle, a Taco Bell, Mystic Lake(casinos are bastions for the fattest people on the planet), or a LAN party.
-Do zombies swim? Yeah, I didn't think so either--which can put me in great advantage in the land of 10,000 lakes. (had to work all 3 constituents of triathlon in there)
-I could live for months on a diet of water and CLIF bars. In fact, I kindof already do.
-I've been a great marksman since age 14. This would make me a great asset to the military, who will undoubtedly be running the show when all hell breaks loose from their comfy missle silos/bunkers in northwestern North Dakota.
You scored 77% survivability and 62% kickass-ability!
You were born for z-day. Not only will you be killing zombies left and right, but you will be leading the other survivors. You will be the one making decisions and the person who is looked to for advice. Congratulations.
This test tracked 2 variables. How the score compared to the other people's:
|Higher than 76% on survivability|
|Higher than 61% on kickass-ability|
Link: The Non-lame Zombie Survival Test
Wednesday, November 8, 2006
"The timing is right for new leadership at the Pentagon"
"I share a large part of the responsibility for the outcome of the election"
"We can work together over the next two years"
"The message yesterday was clear: The American people want their leaders in Washington to.....conduct ourselves in an ethical manner"
This will really piss off the tough guy conservatives who were so happy with how tough he was. Especially those guys who always say "You know, if Al Gore was president right now, he would've pussed out to those terrorists, but not President Bush." Fuck You. You seem to forget that your texas cowboy president was a fucking cheerleader at a new england prep school. You're going to be begging Nancy Pelosi to impeach him.
We've got his ass in a vice, and he knows it. And only 1 day has passed. He's president until January 20, 2009. If he lasts that long, Bush will become synonymous with pussy. Oh, wait.......
And a few more things. If Bush thinks he can go back to his usual shenanigans, 3 things will happen.
1) His hair will probably go greyer (if that's possible) and fall out.
2) His wrinkles will get deeper
3) His thumb will get very sore from pushing the veto button.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
-Don Shula is not a personal hero.
-I don't drive casually at speeds more easily measured in Mach than MPH.
-My skin does not make me look like a beige alligator.
-I don't cringe at the idea of *gasp* 40 degree Fahrenheit weather.
-Shiny wheels are not on the top of my budget priority list.
-I generally arrive at work long before 9am.
-My colloquial spanish sucks. Mi espanol chupa culo.
-I ride a bike that doesn't have a coaster brake.
-I do not have greater than 50% of my car covered in chrome.
-I have no inclination to paint my house or place of business in pastel.
-Cuban food and my stomach get along like George W. Bush and Kim Jong Il.
-I like going to rock shows.
-I bead up with sweat when the weather is "nice".
There are 2 things that I really enjoy about Miami, however.
+Cuban Coffee leaves normal coffee in the dust.
+I am perpetually smitten over women with Cuban accents.
I suppose it's easy to understand how these nimrods are standing where they are -- after 9/11, airports scrambled to get people to provide added security.
And guess who they got? America's finest unskilled, unemployed, poorly educated bottom feeders.
What kind of payscale do you expect to give a guy that's sole purpose is to look at your ID and match it to your boarding pass? What kind of person is attracted by a $9.00/hour job?
The kind of guy that jokes that TSA means "take stuff away", and makes anecdotes about how he can't believe the government actually pays him to tell people that they can't bring liquids or gels onto a plane. "3 ounces or less!"
If you really think so, then perhaps you should be telling your boss that your job is futile and that we shouldn't be wasting tax dollars like this. Perhaps you could make yourself useful and speed up that fucking metal detector line.
And guess what happens in the case that I give these knuckle draggers any lip? (Which they deserve) I get "transferred" to a different caste of security employee -- only this one wears camoflage and inspects your nose with the barrel of a submachine gun.
Anyone want to explain to me why he needs jungle camo in an airport?
This guy has been trained to shoot people. He's probably spend the last 3 years learning to stop thinking and take orders, and think faster than the hypothetical man trying to shoot him first from a leathernecked R. Lee Ermy-type shithead with a loud voice and a propensity to punch you in the gut and call you "Private Lizard Shit." What better job for this guy than walking around civilian crowds with a cannon that can spit out 35 9mm full metal jackets in 10 seconds?
Guess what happens when you give idiots authority? It's a perfect recipe for nincompoopery.
This type of power is perfect to people on the lowest echelon of the socio-economic foodchain. Of course, these people are dripping with insecurity--sometimes it's the fact that they're a recent immigrant, or poor, or ugly, or have a small dick, or obese, or most obviously, stupid.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
+Fargo 1/2 Marathon
+Memorial day on Lake Calhoun AND Lake Minnetonka
+Indoor Triathlon (2nd place overall)
+Beerfest on Hennepin Avenue, followed by a stay-up-till-you-pass-out post-party.
+Kayaking with Jen, got a total farmer's tan
+saw Chuck Klosterman
+Rode my bike 60 miles to watch a professional bike race
+Hiked 29 miles on the Superior Hiking Trail
+Impromptu salsa dancing with Jen at La Bodega.
+Went roadbiking in my wickedly hilly hometown
+Birthday Celebration at Red Dragon
+Lifetime Fitness Triathlon. averaged 22.6mph on my bike.
+saw Muse (!!!!!!!!!)
+saw Jolie Holland
+saw The Raconteurs
+attended a relative's 100th Birthday party
+Went mountain biking for the 1st time at Theo Wirth. On a $5000 bike. We had to fix a wheel.
+St. Paul Tri. (1:20/100m on the swim)
+Mountain Biking on the river flats. had to fix a wheel.
+Rode my bicycle south from Prescott, WI. Somewhere on the 45 mile ride, I hit 49.6mph.
+Read Chuck Palahnuik's "Choke"
+Spent 4 days camping & canoeing in the Boundary Waters.
+Got dressed in a tuxedo and watched my sister get married.
+Mountain biked the Maah Daah Hey in the Badlands of North Dakota. (saw 0 Bison, rattlesnakes, or cougars; somehow)
+Lake Minnetonka Triathlon. (7:39min/mile run)
+Mountain biked Murphy-Hanrehan. had to fix a wheel.
+Rollerbladed around calhoun 3 times & harriet once in 1 hour, 3 minutes.
Just try and tell me you had a better summer.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
The st. paul tri was at Lake Phalen, I competed in the international distance. Setting up in the transition, there was little organization--bikes were placed just wherever, and there was little room between some of the racks. I made the mistake of clipping my bike shoes onto my bike--I'll get to that in a minute.
There was a rectangle of buoys in the lake, and our we started in-water at about waist deep. I started the race in wave 3 as a clydesdale: behind all the international competitors. There was lots of lakeweed in the beginning, but I think it was chopped up fairly well by the previous waves. I had to do 2 laps around the buoys.
I eased into an easy pace, and felt good. I was wearing my Gear West singlet for the first time, and it felt pretty decent. I was happy to know that I wouldn't have to put it on at T1. About 1/4 into the race, my heart rate monitor strap slid down my chest and onto my waist. After a few failed attempts with one arm to pull it back up(with the other arm still stroking), I pulled it up and tightened it while doing breaststroke kicks on my back. Back to swimming, and onto the second lap. I was able to hold my pace, and even speed up. I had been recently working on my sighting abilities, and it was paying off. I was doing much less zigzagging, more straight swimming. I pushed hard after rounding the last buoy, kicking to get blood in my legs as I started to see the bottom of the lake, and swam until it was too shallow to swim.
I had a nice run into T1, and even passed some people on the way to my bike. Unfortunately, my feet were covered in sand. There was no water to step in after the sand on the beach, or even grass to run on for that matter--just straight to pavement. I spent an easy 30 seconds trying to de-sand my feet. Oh yeah--and the rocks. The parking lot wasn't swept, so my bare feet got even dirtier running in the parking lot. I didn't want to run out of transistion barefoot and try slipping dirty feet into my bikeshoes, so I unclipped my bike shoes, put on the shoes, and ran with my bike out of transition.
I hopped on my bike, clipped in, and took two pedal revolutions to find out my back tire was dead flat. I'd pumped it up really good that morning, but I was a bit suspect of the valvestem & I was right. I pulled my bike off the road and was getting ready to take my aerobar waterbottle off so I could lay my bike to change the tire. A guy ran over and told me he was a bike mechanic and said he could change it. I ran over to the county cycle tent and snagged a new tube, and ran back. He already had the tube off the bike and quickly slapped the new one on. He had everything ready to go really fast--It took about 4-6 min to get it all ready to go, and then I had my C02 cartridge inflater, which I used. It worked great, and I rode off.
I got going, and my legs had tightened up while I was changing my tire. I also noticied that in the change, my speedometer was not working. I still had my cadence readout, but I wanted to have a more accurate feel as to how hard I should be exerting. That in addition to the flat & my sore legs brought me down mentally, but I did not give up--I started to hydrate, the pain in my legs eased, and I pushed hard.
In the end, paying more attention to my bodily exertion and pedal cadence might've helped out more than not having a speed readout -- during the entire bike leg, nobody passed me. (except, of course, when I was fixing my tire) I also raced well from a technical standpoint. The one big hill on the course--a switchbacked half mile at 5.0% grade was of little challenge to me as it has been in the past on the way up, and I smoked on the way down--all the way without touching my brakes--something I've never been able to get myself to do in the past on that hill. I felt pretty satisfied with my bike overall. My average speed was 20.2mph including stopping for the flat.
My T2 was ok. Except for having to dodge the sprint distance finishers who were just hanging out, walking around in the already narrow paths between the bike racks. You know who you are; next time I'm going to give you a stiff arm.
The run felt good--better than usual at the beginning considering the transition--and I was able to feel comfortable at a decent pace. I ended up with a decent time --49 min 11 sec -- about par with my liberty tri run(which has become my gold standard for a "good race"), but not nearly as hilly. Not bad considering I was running on a gimp knee that I smashed on a tree earlier in the week while mountain biking.
I was looking at my watch frequently to determine how fast I needed to run to beat my PR, and to gage my running pace. As I rounded the south end of the lake for the second time, I started to increase my pace with the finish line in view. I don't remember the last few yards & crossing. I just remember them taking the band off my ankle, and telling me that I had to walk from the finish line to the shed 100 yards away to get water.
Why I liked the race:
+The challenging switchback hill on the bike course.
+The nice run around Phalen
+Cheerful, encouraging volunteers! (I think that's because most of them were triathletes)
Why I didn't like the race:
-bumpy bike course
-unswept transition area
-chaotic transition area
-unmowed weeds in the lake
-my registration was screwed up. I was placed in Age group Sprint instead of Clydesdale International despite me emailing the race director earlier in the week AND requesting the change at packet pickup. Therefore, I officially had the slowest sprint distance finish time. (but not the slowest sprint swim & bike splits. ha ha!)
-no water at the finish line. WTF?
Age Group 5/7
10th fastest swim split overall.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
I had a par time in my swim, but it could've easily been much faster. I have a difficult time swimming in a straight line, and it doesn't help that the water is so murky that you can't see past your elbows in front of you. Also, since there wasn't a mass start, I wasn't able to get up in front of the slow people, and I wasn't able to find any fast people to draft on until near the end.
In transition 1 to the bike, my new singlet bunched up. dammit. I'm swimming with it on next time--problem solved.
I had a way fast bike leg. I was cranking hard, holding a strong pace, and the heat wasn't getting to me. In the last quarter of the race when the course started to head uphill, I started passing lots of people. Especially those fuckers with $4000 bikes mounted on zipps. On the way back to nokomis, I crouched way down on the downhills, cranking my bike over 30 mph.
On transition 2 to the run, when I jumped off my bike, a guy swung his cleated foot out front of me and hit me in the leg.....or maybe I hit him. Whatever.
I had a difficult time getting into a good running pace, but it could be from the heat, or the fact that the run was too short to build into a good pace, or the fact that I was smoking on the bike. There's an exposed out&back on the cedar ave bridge over nokomis that was really challenging--just you and the sun. They had a couple firetrucks blasting water on all the runners, kids had buckets of water, etc. Strangely enough, I had lots of energy in the last half mile......it might've been just the energy of being about to finish.
I think that I'm not going to do the lifetime triathlon again next year. My second year completing the race (2005 sprint distance, 2006 shortened olympic distance), I've become a bit annoyed with the race. I was attracted to do the lifetime as my first triathlon, and I am one of many. The ratio of first time racers at the lifetime is huge; there's more marketing for this race than most ironman races. Therefore, the swim--even the olympic distance--was chock full of beginners in survival mode zigzagging around, doing breaststroke, and cavalcades of slow swimmers in wolfpacks that I had to go around or through. I was quite frustrated.
It doesn't help that they had the men's 25-29 age group swim immediately after the women's 40-44 group. WTF kind of planning is that?
My next problem was the same people on bikes. 95f triathlons do not allow drafting or blocking, but there were tons of people doing it. Even yelling "on your left" to the goofballs riding on abreast ahead usually yielded little result if any. Also there was many people on the bike course, and that obviously created lots of bunching up around tight turns......the same tight turns I'd been practicing to hold at high speeds. So I got held up many times there.
Lifetime was concerned about the safety of the race, and that was good--they cut half of the run out. (which actually swayed the race heavily in my favor, since I'm a crappy runner) But why also clip 3 miles from the bike? It's 25 miles; what the heck is 3 miles? Either clip it substantially, or don't clip it at all.
Anyways, here's the breakdown.
Swim (1.5k/0.9 miles): 25:45.98
T1 (swim to bike): 2:35.94
Bike(shortened to ~22 Miles): 59:14.99
Bike Pace: 22.6mph
T2(bike to run): 1:52.01
Run(5k/3.1 miles): 25:31
Run Pace: 8:30/mile
Total Time: 1:54:59.93
age group 6/82
Oh yeah.....If I would've registered as a Clydesdale, the 200lb category, I would've taken first.
Moral of the story here---don't plan to lose weight.
Sidenote: Emma Snowsill, the women's pro winner who, after pocketing $80,000, immediately got on Lifetime's private jet and flew to New York City to compete in the NYC Triathlon the next day. She won.
Friday, June 30, 2006
As we left Duluth, we really didn't have a good idea where we were going to go. We had tentatively planned "lutsen area," but our planned dropoff point was by reservation only, so we checked the trail manual and made last minute plans for a different route. We would leave our truck at a parking lot and would have a shuttle bus drop us off farther north. We would get back by foot.
We got rained on when we got to the parking lot near Finland, MN. It stopped just as we were picked up by the shuttle. The driver was a very friendly retiree. We told him where we wanted to be dropped off, and he said "backpacking for 3 days, huh?"
"Uh, nope. We'll only be out for two. "
He dropped us off at Cook County road 1, and we began our trek. Early going, most of our walking was flat, spanning through different types of forest: birch, deciduous, mixed, pine, cedar, etc. Some places were dry, others muddy. Wild daisys were in bloom everywhere, and we also saw many wild orchids. At one point along the trail, we heard a ruckus in front of us, and a very pissed off bird with its feathers in display--which was either a small turkey or a really large grouse--stepped onto the trail and tried to charge us. Kris gallantly fended it off by tapping his trekking pole on a rock in between us. This was all very funny--I was a bit uneasy about running into a rampaging bull moose, since we had seen some large & fresh tracks, but instead we joked about the potential newspaper headlines about 2 hikers getting mauled by a bird in the north woods.
We ran into a few steep hills, and we handily ascended & descended them, stopping briefly to enjoy the views, of course. We ran into a couple of ladies camping along the way, and as much as this sounds like the beginning to a porno, we only gave them a smile & a nod as we passed. At lunch time, we came across Alfred's pond, an idyllic lake surrounded by a thick barricade of tall pines with a boardwalk that goes out to the edge of the water. The entire trip would've been worth it if this was the only thing I saw. The dragonflies seemed very hesitant to give up their place on the benches--they didn't budge for close up photos and as soon as I stood up, they were almost magnetically drawn back to their spots. A few otters swam over to inspect the visitors munching CLIF bars in their neighborhood. Otters make farting noises, if you've never heard an otter.
We made it to the caribou river by about 3pm, which was the end of 1 of 3 legs we planned to complete. It was amazing; water rushing, splashing, and falling off angular black boulders. The next leg was George something something Manitou state park. This section was mostly hills & gorges, and was quite challenging. My feet were bugging me a bit, and I stopped to take my boots off and clean out dirt from the inside. Too late--I had huge blisters on my heels which had already torn open above my heels along my achilles tendons on both feet. I applied some Dr. Scholls Moleskin around the wounds, and got back to the hiking. We took a 1/4 mile spur off the trail to check out the view from a summit. A fantastic view of a river valley, and even farther off, Lake superior. In a very Forrest Gump-like way: You couldn't tell where the world ended and the sky began.
We were running out of water a few miles from the end of the park, and ran across a small stream. We refilled our water bottles with the help of Mr. T's water purifier. I doubt it was necessary to purify the water at all.......but who knows if a big brown bear dropped a big brown bomb upstream?
Most of the time, there were horseflies & mosquitos circling my head, looking for an easy landing pad. Kris and I devised an eco-friendly alternative to gross, partially effective bug sprays: Train a squadron of dragonflies to escort you through the woods. This would be perfectly synergetic: dragonflies eat mosquitos, and humans are to mosquitos as minnows are to walleyes. (except for the size) Unfortunately, most of the dragonflies we saw were already well fed.
We ended up seeing a couple people at a few of the campsites within the park along another river, but we didn't have a permit to camp in the park, so we kept on going with our eyes set upon a site about a half mile outside the park. We got to the site at 7:40pm, only to find that it had already been occupied by a guy and his girlfriend......we made an impulsive decision to bolt another 2.3 miles to the next spot down the trail rather than bargain with the guy. It would be getting dark soon, and we wanted to setup camp while it was light. We'd been averaging about 2mph throughout the day. That may sound slow, but consider the effect of stopping here & there to marvel & take photos, steep hills, rocky descents, and you quickly realize it's a pretty aggressive pace.Throughout the day, we had passed through some of the densest forest I'd ever seen, and occaisionally we'd have to hop over a fallen tree here & there, but these last two miles easily had more fallen trees than entirety of the 17 miles we'd covered during the day. Leading the two of us and being a person who's always in a hurry, I set a very fast pace. We made it to our site in 40 minutes, and we were elated to see our site--we'd been walking for 10 hours, and it was suh-weet. The site was on a small triangular shaped piece of land flanked by a river and another stream, which intersected at the far end.
Kris set up the tent while I tried to gather wood from fallen trees for a fire. This isn't easy without a hatchet, and although there was a ton of it, wet rotting birch won't catch fire. Kris found some sticks along the river a bit farther off, and he got a fire going. Unfortunately, the larger pieces of wood were too wet. We ate tuna-gouda wraps and pad thai(kudos to Kris for his stove and picking up just-add-hot-water-meals) in front of a collection of sticks glowing orange.
The ground was hard, but I slept ok. It got pretty cold in the night, but I had a pretty warm blanket. (Thanks Gramma Frieda) Kris and I both heard *things* moving around nearby during the night.
In the morning, we had slightly burnt apple cobbler and oatmeal. We cleaned up our site, and took off. This hiking wasn't nearly as difficult as the state park, but I could tell I was getting very fatigued. I could tell I wasn't picking up my feet as high as I had the day before, and the floor of the forest/path here was an endless network of interlocking tree roots for the first half, and fairly rocky for the second half of the day. I was stumbling often.
We stopped at Lake Sonju, which has a boardwalk out to a small rocky island. It was yet another pristine lake surrounded by pines. This was probably my favorite destination within the trip. At various points along the trip, there are notebooks for people to jot notes. Just the day before, a guy said he ran into a friendly big white dog who tagged along with him. We took a load off on the island had a quick lunch. Trader Joe's wildberry trailmix was perfect for the occaision.
We then came upon Lake Egge, yet another *yawn* gorgeous pristine forest lake with water as smoothe as mirror glass. Not even the fish dared to break the surface on the largest inland lake we saw that weekend.
Along the trail, we ran into a couple small groups going the other direction, some backpackers and daytrippers. And we met a friendly white dog with beautiful blue eyes. She wouldn't stay still for me to take a photo, but she walked with us for the last few miles back to our truck, playfully zigzagging across the trail through the woods. We were considering taking the dog with us, but decided to leave it at the parking lot. As we were leaving, a pickup stopped, a guy whistled and the dog jumped into the truck.
Overall, it was a very pleasing experience. Even though I'm still covered in mosquito bites and my heels still have open sores. But they will all heal.
Miles covered: 29.5
Mosquito bodycount: ~3,000
Blood-gorged Mosquitos that left a huge blood spot when I slapped them: 3
CLIF bars consumed: 8
Other hikers encountered: 11
Monday, June 26, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
Brian had engagements, and left before the race was over. As I left, I ran into my auntie, who talked me into having a beer with her and her boyfriend on the waterfront.
The rest of the day was a sufferfest. Stillwater, for all practical purposes, is a hole. Earlier in the day, Brian and I glided down to the waterfront at about 35mph without pedaling at all. I left at an agonizing 7mph, huffing away in my climbing gear. Once I got back to the bike trail, a good 4 miles north of Stillwater, I met a 10mph headwind. Then I realized that most of the ride back would be uphill. Then I got rained on. Then I realized that I had a rear flat tire.
It was a slow leak, and I decided that I would just air it up and keep going as best as I could--I'd never replaced a tube, and since it wasn't a blowout, I didn't want to chance fucking up my spare unless I really needed to. I had to refill about every 3 miles, but I was pedalling my ass off to cover as much ground as I could between refills. I estimate that I refilled about 6 times before getting back to Brian's house and my car in Roseville. 58 miles for the day on my bike.
I was kindof dreading having to take my rear tire off and change it out, but I really enjoyed myself this evening. It wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be, and I even got some other maintenance in for the fun of it; cleaned the chain & cassette, washed off my frame, etc.
I found my nemesis as well. A little piece of metal (looks like a staple) that jammed right through the tire, and lodged in the tube. I'm lucky it stayed there.
Now, even after thoroughly scrubbing my hands, I have little black grease stains all over them; that feels very natural to me, even though I rarely get my hands dirty. I feel like that kid that loved growing up on the farm. I feel very much like me.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
If any music could ever be described as shiny, refreshing, clean, rejuvenating, sparkling, or any other adjective you might find on the back of an expensive bottle of shampoo, it would be that of Stereolab.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
I had a mediocre swim. The water was a bit choppy, and I ended up hitting some people early on, and I'm still a novice at openwater sighting, so I did get offtrack a couple times.
I had a phenomenal bike. The crowds yelling everywhere pumped me up bigtime. I wasn't wearing my 20lb backpack, so I felt very fast.....and was. I looked down at my speedometer to see 30 mph very often. One small hitch: I have an aerodrink, which is basically a waterbottle with a straw that fits between your handlebars. I hit a bump, and it catapulted the sponge that covers the bottle's refilling hole off my bike and sent a shower of sticky sports drink all over my body and bike.
The run was tough, especially at the beginning. It started with a trail run, then a monster hill on woodchips, which had me running barely above a walking pace. Once I got into my pace around mile 2, it felt pretty decent. I pushed hard & fast at the end.
And I finished in 2 hours, 35 minutes....according to my watch. I'm still trying to wipe this smirk off my face 7 hours after the fact. I feel really good.
And I think I deserve a big ass burrito from Baja Sol. Salsa bar, beware!
On a side note, one thing that added fuel to my fire(other than goo) during the bike was passing people with absurdly expensive bikes. I beat the guy next to me in the transition who had a pimped-out Madone by over half hour, and I passed numerous Cervelo P2's, and even a few titanium Litespeeds. Just goes to show that in the amateur world, talent is more important than the bike you ride.
Monday, June 5, 2006
That being said, my goal will be 3 hours, 10 minutes.
Anyways, I just spent 2 hours giving my bike some much needed TLC. You wouldn't believe the amount & kind of shit that can build up on a bike after 300 miles. There is alot of it, it gets everywhere, and I'm probably going to throw my shirt away and try to bleach my hands. Think hairdye will work?
Friday, June 2, 2006
"Sure, man! I'm headed to Minnehaha parkway" (then I would hit harriet on the way back home)
He told me to set the pace, and he'd follow. I'm whipping along at about 22mph, and he's a little back....whatever....he can't keep up with this shit, right? Well, there are a couple wild hills on this road, and and I don't skip them because this is where you need to work hard to strengthen your legs and increase endurance. I'm about 85% up the first monster hill, and this guy pulls up & passes me.
"nice job, man", I say with surprise.
Then comes a fast downhill. I slam into my fastest gearing and hunker down on my aerobars and pedal like hell. See ya later---I mean business.
I set an Andy + Bike speed record. 40.0mph. For anyone who's never ridden a fast bike......this is like re-entering the atmosphere in the space shuttle.
I'm crusing along keeping my momentum, and the franklin ave. bridge is up next. This is a wikked pissah tough climb. Before long I'm screaming along at a paltry 8mph, huffing and puffing, and crying to God for mercy.
And then that guy passes me. I stop to look at his bike, and I see he has a fixie. One speed, no coasting allowed.
I'm pretty sure guys like this eat nails for their daily iron intake.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
The first few miles felt great. There was plenty of people watching to keep the eyes busy, and I even ran into a few people I knew.
As the crowd thinned out, I just kept my pace, and enjoyed the views around town. There was also plenty of spectators cheering -- these people had way more enthusiasm than the people at the finish line in the fargodome.
There were plenty of people who had water/gatorade cups along the way in addition to the race sanctioned stations, so I wasn't too surprised to see an old philanthropic acquiantence, Erik Hatch, holding out drinks for the runners around mile 10. Knowing him, I should've known that he'd be holding out cups of beer for the runners. I had a few sips anyways.
I finished the race 1:48:02, a little short of my guesstimated goal of 1:40:00, but I was satisfied to have finished without breaking stride. Right now, the race results say I placed 44/124 in my age group.
Then I helped Tim move the last of his stuff out of his apartment. *tear* He's all grown up. We then had Q'doba. Then I supported him as he took a last walk down the halls of his former employer--Happy Harry's. He picked me out a few decent wines and got me his employee discount, even though he doesn't work there anymore.
I met a big group of great people at Outback for drinks, and had a very mediocre steak, and then was invited over to the Mariners' house, who were grilling some of the biggest steaks I've ever seen. It's quite possible they were frankenstiened together from several cows. I wasn't hungry at first, but the beer I was drinking gave me a little appetite, and I had a small chunk of steak, some of Joanie's kickass cheesybread, and some asparagus. (sidenote: doesn't asparagus just taste way better when you've got a few drinks in you?)
Afterwards, we played trivia at TGI Fridays, where I, of course, dominated (that is, when I was paying attention.) Then we went to Dempsey's, the new Irish pub on broadway. I commandeered a large booth, and sat in the middle, and some very good looking people filled in on both sides.
People couldn't help but stare.
The evening ended with deep discussion over coffee and breakfast at Perkins-- the way any great day in Fargo ends.
Monday, May 15, 2006
The best part of my weekend was Wade and Erin testifying to my father that my hair is awesome. (My dad's straightfaced response: "Nope")
Note to all random gay men: I am no longer flattered by your come-ons, which have completely lost their novelty. Please cease and desist.
Isn't it ironic that Red Delicious apples are completely not delicious? To swap in some truth to their descriptive moniker, I would suggest tank-armor-peeled Red Grainy Blands. Seriously. They've got to be at least 50 peel by weight, and the inside of those damn things has the texture of couscous. Blech.
If you can't walk straight, it's completely unnecessary to buy a bottle of gin on offsale.
I learned this weekend that my Dad's cousin has a guest room in his house that I'm welcome to stay in at any time. He also has a pool. He also lives on Oahu.
In all the combinations and permutations that can be possibly made using all alcohol & mixers, Tequila and Tonic is perhaps the worst concoction that can possibly be made.
Golden Idea: A sweet trash TV reality show could center around the lives of security guards at wedding receptions. If you feel bad about your life, you definately wouldn't after witnessing the meaningless of their existence.
If you chip in for Pizza Patrol at a late night house party in Fargo, don't leave the kitchen until it shows up. If you do, your share will probably be eaten by some obese roadie for an 80's hair metal cover band crashing the party.
Tuesday, May 9, 2006
I'll let you borrow mine.
A few weeks ago, I bought some new pedals & cycling shoes(the most expensive shoes I've EVER bought) and was VERY excited to take a ride with them on that very sunny & warm spring day ...
I carefully installed the cleats onto my shoes, and got out my toolset to take the old pedals off my bike. I grabbed my crescent wrench with my muscled arm in the same fashion my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather have been doing for the last 110 years.
I yanked. And yanked on that motherfucker until I rounded off part of the nut on the pedal. "Ah, SHIT!" I yelled as I wiped the beading sweat from my brow. I deduced the thread was seized, so I sprayed some WD40 on the threads and waited anxiously for a half hour as the daylight burned away....
I tried again, this time on a different orientation to the smashed hardened Chrome-Molybdenum steel on my first try. I looked at my hand, which had the reddest & deepest indentation I've ever seen on flesh. No more screwing around. I can get some ice later.
I close my eyes and mustered every last sodium-potassium receptor in my left bicep, deltoid, and lat. I feel the wrench move abruptly.........because I broke the wrench.
Our hero spreads his arms, fists clenched, teeth bared and looks to the sky/ceiling while emitting a primal roar.
I come to consciousness in my car headed toward the nearest bike shop, Erik's in St. Louis Park, to get a pedal wrench and slap down $30. Yes. I paid $30---a satisfying evening at the Herkimer.....for one wrench. This wrench has a slot to grasp the pedal nut, and a long handle. That's it.
I got home and pulled the wrench from it's bag. Which....appeared to have directions on the back.
Huh....the left pedal has a reverse thread.
I had a good ride.
Sunday, May 7, 2006
I just participated in Lifetime's first annual Indoor Triathlon. Now, something this insipid doesn't really count given that I got into triathlon because I loathe treadmills, but I figure I could chalk it up as a decent workout.
10 minutes pool swim
30 minutes on a stationary spin bike (all bikes set to the same resistance)
20 minutes on a treadmill. (2 degree incline)
Everyone was scored on the distance the completed in each leg.
I got to Lifetime only to realize I forgot my goggles, so I had to buy a crappy pair at their overpriced sporting goods shop for $15.
I thought I swam ok, got up to the cycling studio only to find out the girl next to me swam EXACTLY THE SAME DISTANCE. Fuck. Well, I kept talking to her and found out that she's a professionsal swim coach, and swam for Minot (ND) High School--a phenomenal swim team, hands down. Well, maybe I didn't do so bad, but she is a girl.
The guy cycling on the other side of me is fucking cruising. His pedal cadence was probably around 125-130 easy--which means your shoes are a blurry white(or whatever color your shoe is) circle. I'm going at a decent clip relative to him, and all the Lifetime employees were sure that he was going to beat the day's record by a mile. He goes 17.5 miles, I hit 16.4....which was also really fast for the day, according to the proctors.
The run was painful. They made you set an incline to replicate running outdoors, but I think everyone agreed it was more difficult. I ended up hitting 2.46 miles which was an attempt to best my last tri's run pace. I would've run faster given the views of Lake Harriet instead of stupid R&B videos on the TV. I a nice consolation would've been some some nice-heinied(sp?) women running in the treadmills in front of me.
I spent a good 30 minutes in the hot tub afterwards, and now I'm relaxing with a Summit Maibock and listening to some all-encompassingly kickass music. (thanks J-Mo)
This is the way Sundays should go.
UPDATE: I took 2nd place in points.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
The point is......... that I've ran over 100 miles since January 1st, 2006.
I've been keeping track of all of my mileage in the gym, and I'm fairly pleased, given that I've been away from the gym for 2 weeks this year during my ski vacations(which did not keep me conditioned, somehow), and out for yet another week feeling under the weather for working out.
Unfortunately, about 90 miles has been on a treadmill. I hate treadmills. There's such little inspiration to work hard on one--like watching Jeopardy and Ricky Martin videos could inspire anyone. True inspiration is being 3 miles from home and telling yourself that you wouldn't dare walking home.
My longest run yet this year was 8.26 miles....mapped out for you right here. I pulled this off on saturday in a little over an hour.
I hope to reach 365 miles this year on foot. That's a good number, no?
Thursday, April 6, 2006
Back to bed as soon as possible after drinking the local aquifers dry, I usually pass out a second time. So fast that I'm out before my face meets pillow, and I collapse into a awkward position that will cause an arm to get cut off from circulation, and it will be completely numb & limp by the time I wake up again.
When I wake up with the alarm, I begin to believe that someone, perhaps Chuck Norris, spent the night repeatedly kicking me square in the forehead. This feeling usually transcends two very stiff cups of coffee. The saturation of alcohol on my breath makes me scan my memory of the night before to see if it contains me open mouth kissing a top-fuel dragster.
And the gas. Low in quantity but high in potency, I think it's possible that the secret ingredient in Herkimer's sweet potato fries is weapons grade plutonium. Mmmmmm.
After coffee number 4, I've burnt off most of the acute symptoms, but the glaze will stay for the rest of the day. This is where you almost feel normal, but your brain is fogged over like your windshield on a spring morning. You can sorta see where you're going, but everything is sort of fuzzy & distorted. This state of being is strange, because time can either move quickly or slowly. It moves slowly when you think of your bed. However, once you get back to your desk and stare wide eyed at your monitor, you watch time click off so fast that 30 minutes can pass in between eyeblinks. And a complete time travel experience can occur when your boss is giving you critical action items: complete sentences are lost into a space-time vortex. Yawns frequently outlast the amount of air in your lungs, which makes you kind of gag. The first four words in the sentences that come out of your mouth are usually the same as the last four words are the same as the first four words.
This surreal state makes any semblance of critical thinking nearly impossible, but it is very possible to be productive in this realm. In the course of a normal day, interruptions by incompetents is the greatest factor of not-getting-anything-done-ness, but all it takes is a split second stare with your vacant soulless eyes to send hellish fear into your interrupter. Even the people on the phone.
Driving home usually takes about 3 or 4 eternities. Everyone moron on the road is driving way too slow. or those motherfuckers are driving way too fast, cutting you off. I just want to get to my couch. Please?
I got a good hour nap in this afternoon before I had to drive back out to Chanhassen for my first Triathlon training class at Lifetime. We spun for 50 minutes, and then ran for another 30. I didn't feel too bad.
I still feel kinda crappy. I'm going to bed.
Sunday, April 2, 2006
Early last week, I could tell I was not being told the entire truth, and I decided that the speech patterns, the non verbals, and the overall scent in the air were completely illusions fabricated in my head. Which is what I do 99 percent of the time when my instincts are trying to tell me something. It is certainly possible for intuition to be wrong, but I have a feeling now that I've been right way more often than I've been wrong.
I'm beginning to understand that I've always had a keen sense of all this, but I'm absolutely nonplussed by my reluctantance to accept the jumping-up-and-down observations of my subconscious/id. I guess the cognitive dissonance of knowing that someone you trust is not being candid with you is difficult to accept.
I think the silver lining to this is that I should have the common sense to trust myself before anyone else. So I'm gonna work on doing just that. Sad that I'm nearly 27 years old and figuring this shit out just now.
Nothing like clarity on a rainy day.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Monday, March 20, 2006
A few minutes later, a very old friend Leah walked in. I hadn't seen or talked to her in years since she now lives in Seattle. She was in town to meet with a pastor because she's getting married here in a few weeks. And upon her homecoming she brought her fiance to the Herkimer. This speaks volumes, because for as long is I've known her, Leah has been floating slightly above the pinnacle of hipster coolness attainable by mere mortals.
Then I saw my friend Adam who showed up. He's like, "Did you see Scott here?" I did not. Apparently I had just missed (my good friend) Scott with a handful of his old housemates, some of who were back to Minny from San Francisco.
So I guess my whole point here is that the Herkimer kicks ass.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
I drank almost an entire liter of Tanqueray. I said lots of funny shit.
I got some pointers from a new friend who used to be on the US ski team.
I skiied really fucking fast.
I played lots of P&A
While encompassingly inebriated, I ran in a dead sprint in my boots and deftly jumped onto the tailgate of a moving pickup, stuck the landing, and made some new friends on the way to the bar.
I saw superior for the first time.
I looked at the double blacks, laughed, and "11"ed the whole way down them.
I skiied in the rain. For the first time.
I scared the living shit out of some snowboarders.
For the first time, I stopped in the middle of my beer and gave it to Brian because I was too drunk.
I got rejected by some subpar girls who drove from Illinois.
Two words. Hang. Time.
PS. I've added photos from my latest trips to my Flickr page
Saturday, March 4, 2006
Andy's Motorola V710
Sept 2004 - Mar 2006
Died when V710 was ejected from Andy's jacket during a skiing crash. Andy was uninjured and both skis were recovered about 100 yards downhill, but the V710 body was not recovered.
V710 was Andy's trusted communications liason for nearly two years, but in recent months had lost photo capability, and had intermittent MP3 functionality. The day before the accident, V710's outside LCD failed. It's early demise is sad and will be missed, but Andy knows it will be happy at rest in Snowbird, UT, at the scene of the crash somewhere below the Gad2 liftline cliff.
If I had your phone number, I probably don't have it now. You're probably going to wanna to forward it to me if you want to hear from me in the future. If I didn't have it and you want me to hear for me, here's a convenient chance to give it to me.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
I rarely recall my dreams. Last night I remembered my dream, and I have little doubt to its meaning. My dreams are usually disconnected and surreal, like a barrage of video clips directed by Salvatore Dali. Strangely enough, the ones I recall are sometimes connected. I've observed deja vu in the dreamworld (such as walking down the a street you've been down before, yet you vaguely recall it, because you were lost the first time --or seeing something very specific that you left in a very specific place)* many real years apart--too far apart to consciously remember. I often wonder if the dreamworld is anything less than a completely alternate reality. Anyone who believes that humanity is all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively would have a hard time believing otherwise.
I was with some friends, none of which I can clearly recall, at some very swanky club. The women were very exotic and would probably represent the archetype of beauty. Everything was flooded in a silvery-blue --a hue that I suppose people in marketing might use to give an aura of mystique, sophistication, perfection....in other words, this was the pinnacle of the female homo sapien.
This club had several floors, and I think there was some protocol where women would approach men and woo them from their group to another floor. I don't understand it, my dreams just have their way of constructing rules & boundaries with perfect lucidity but with infinite subtlety.
On many occasions, my table's conversation was interrupted by women attempting to lure me away. Again--exotic, perfectly proportioned temptresses using some kind of code word which was supposed to summon
me off to another floor. Each occasion, I was painfully blas about these come-ons and reluctant to leave with, well; The Women of my Dreams. I ended up succumbing shortly to a pair of Brazilians, but promptly left for the table of my friends.
Later I ended up leaving with my friends, and then I woke up to get up and pee.
What does this mean? I'm painfully indecisive about my needs, completely without comprehension of traits that I would find desireable in my perfect partner. And moreover, I'm unwilling to leave my circle of comfort to figure out what the hell I want in relationships and in life. And I'm probably -at this point anyways- completely without the gumption to change things.
I really begin to wonder if I'm going to understand what action I need to take if Miss Right crosses my path, or if I'll just fuck everything up. And I might even let her pass, completely passive under a thick veneer of falsified "coolness." Perhaps the prospect of this can push me to absolution.
Or perhaps I was in the wrong club.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Anyways, the point of discussion today really has no point but is a simple observation. Last week, I took my playstation 1, which was covered in a layer of dust, and put it along with my ps games into my storage space.
In contrast, the 39 & 43 year-old engineers in the adjacent cubicles have 15 minute discussions about some computer game they play online every time the 45-year-old-long-hair-mountain-man-beard-no-wedding-ring dude from IS stops by. Which is like 10-15 times a day.
And then ...about half the time these days....one of our project managers stops by to issue action items or drop some papers off or something......and makes my day just a little more entertaining.
"....but you totally have to get to level 19 and grab the flute if you want the weapons upgrade for your chainsawwweeerrr... we need to replace that hard disk in your computer. I'll put in a purchase request ASAP.....
Once there was this dude who.
Really hated video games
and old people that played them all dayyyyy-aaayyy
the 55 year old redheaded lesbian project manager stopped byyyy-eee-iiii
to get a status report on the components got all pissed
the dude who hated geeks got a good laughhhh-aaghhh
or something like that. I'll work on a TCTD cover for all of you.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
It's not like they all get to go back in 4 years. There's other shit to be doing in the olympic village other than meditating for 23 hours a day in between events.
Like socializing with other athletes. Particularly the sculpted, muscular yet delightfully lithe Olympi-ettes who probably don't even speak English. Gestures and grins (and probably raised eyebrows) are the only communication necessary or expected.
There's no way the Torino Olympic village could be anything other than the highest concentration of human hormone/pheromone anywhere in the world. The Olympics must be a wild orgasmic culmination for the world's pinnacle gene pool. Pass that up for a couple extra hours of sleep hoping that they will translate into a 0.0059 second performance burst? Weigh the options in your head.
Let Bode stay up and have a few beers in peace, please. Might I add that he still skiied better than everyone in North, Central, and South America--probably while nursing a hangover. Shit. He'll probably be back in 4 anyways. Be sure to wave your favorite finger high in Whistler, BC
Monday, January 30, 2006
I'll try to give everyone a detailed recap here at some point in the near future, but I've got a ton of things to do around my apartment. AND catch up on sleep.
For the time being...
Tuesday: Sightsee around Denver. Drank some Fat Tires.
Wednesday: Copper Mountain. Sunny day, hard snow.
Thursday: Vail. 12" of snow. We skipped lunch to ski all day, and hit alot of the acclaimed backside bowls & basin, but missed at least half of the mountain without skiing the same run twice.
Friday: Winterpark. Some overnight powder, nice day, some wild tree skiing.
Saturday: Rest. Coors brewery, Red Rocks, Gentleman's Club.
Sunday: Breckenridge. 12" blizzard. Cold, but perfect snow. Nail biting 5 hour drive to the airport to catch my flight. Got home around 1:30am.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Today, we relax, check out the city, and get ready.
Tomorrow: Copper Mountain
Saturday: ???? Relax, Sightsee.
Sunday: ????Decide on a mountain, ski, Fly home.
Monday: LOTS OF COFFEE AT WORK.
Friday, January 20, 2006
My lungs still also have about 50 percent greater capacity than normal people's lungs. This explains my ability to outrun, outswim, outbike, & outsex non-asthmatics. In the past, my doctor has repetatively told me "you have a V12 underneath your ribs that usually runs on 8 cylinders." I suppose this is a decent genetic consolation given the fact I didn't grow up to be tall. Although I've also wondered that this might be product of my years of competative swimming...(being used to being out of breath is also probably a factor)
He did note, however, that one of my medicines --when used alone-- has a high propensity for killing people. Particularly those of African descent. Which is freaky, but it's difficult to get this medicine these days by itself. It's now packaged directly with a cordicosteroid, apparently making it safer according to the study above.
This is still very unsettling to me. I don't like putting things into my body that are unhealthy. Would not taking this medication be more healthy than taking it? I still have my albuterol, a.k.a. "rescue inhaler," but I can still run miles without using it. My doctor would say "NO!" but I really wonder about what toll it will have in 20, 30, or 50 years. Inhalers have not been around very long, relatively speaking......
New Years resolutions are hogwash, humbug, and bullshit. The fact that we have completed a revolution around the sun will not ease your laziness. Although people do change, today is the same as yesterday, and the only way you can make changes in your life is overcome your weakness of self control.
Billy Corgan was quoted as saying, "If you're not doing what you want right now, you never will." I'm not sure I completely buy into that extreme, but I do know that you cannot change unless you really want it. Without an ample supply of motivation and commitment, your attempts to create change will be futile. Unfortunately, those qualities are pretty scarce in our society.
When I decided I wanted to stop smoking, I threw my nearly full pack of Winstons out my car window and drove to the local Cub and bought the patch. I was taking an inventory of my life and decided that I needed some serious changes to enjoy life more. That's how you make a resolution. These insipid resolutions (NewYear-ian, Lenten, et al.) are destined to fail if you're making one because "that's what you're supposed to do." You have to do it for You.
but I think anyone with three digits in their IQ should already know this, so I'm going to discuss something else more fun. 2 blogs for the price of one.
Isn't the MP3 player just the most awesome workout tool, EVER? There's just something about some songs that make me feel like I'm an invincible titanium machine. Like a Terminator on a treadmill.
Do you understand what I'm talking about? Is there a song, or even a part of a song, that instantly soaks your muscles with adrenaline, raises the hairs on your back, and makes you bare your teeth like a wild animal? I've been through many iterations of a workout playlist, and although I do get sick of some songs, there's a few that are absolutely mandatory for a workout playlist.
Maybe you'll think so too.
Ted Leo - Me & Mia
Ted Leo- Shake the Sheets
Audioslave - Be Yourself
White Stripes- Hardest Button to Button
Soul Coughing - $300
Soul Coughing - Miss the Girl
The Beta Band - Dry the Rain
The Vines - Get Free
The Vines - TV Pro
Death Cab - Sound of Settling
Spoon - Jonathan Fisk
Spoon - I didn't come here to die
Sage Francis - Slow down, Ghandi
Radiohead- Planet Telex
White Stripes- Girl, You have no faith in Medicine
Anything YOU'VE found to work? I'm waiting....
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
In Lord of the Flies, Ralph is saved from the band of savages by a boat of soldiers. The island had been devolved into to two tribes, the more aggressive of the two set to assimilate or annihiliate the other.
Golding claims that Ralph's salvation by the soldiers is not intended to have any symbolism in contrast to the reflection on humanity throughout the remainder of the story. It was there to make a great ending to the story. I'm not so sure about that claim. Is it there to give us some ray of hope?
The soldiers were attracted to the island by the huge forest fire set by the savages trying to "smoke out" Ralph from his cave(sound familiar?). Is he trying to say that armageddon will bring innocence or salvation to society?
I think he might be trying to say that we might be saved by Extraterrestrial Aliens. They could be on their way right now.
As the Cheneys and Rumsfelds and Bin Ladens reap the earth, closing in on the Freudian Superego of society into the corner, ready to deal the deathblow.......a giant ship comes down and beams us up, whisks us along with them......
......on their mission to smoke out & destroy their enemies.
Ok, ok, ok. I realize there could be some religious implication, but the last bar still holds. All mainstream religions(the ones I think suck) claim that man was fashioned after God himself. I'd rather not believe in an intelligent creator than believe in a creator who is malevolent. God creates the devil just so he can fight him?
Who the fuck is going to save us from God? Maybe Humanity and Divinity are both doomed. At least the Greeks could acknowledge that there was divinity that was evil.
Or will, when there is nothing left but ashes & burnt carcasses behind him, will Jack Merridew/Bush/Cheney/Nugent become repentant? Can we return to a peaceful society?
What is to be done when Jack Merridew is inherent to this planet? I realized that Ralph had an opportunity to stop Jack early in the book, when Jack was leader of the hunters and they had disobeyed him by hunting instead of keeping the signal fire burning. Jack should have been demoted or punished, but he was not taught the rules of society from the beginning.
Wednesday, January 4, 2006
So I got pulled into my bosses office, expecting to get reamed up one side and down the other for difficulties in my project; most of them having to do with my decimal-in-the-wrong-place type fuckups, but instead he gave me a 5 percent raise.
sidenote: When I got my monster raise this past summer, I was taking an absurdly long lunch/coffee break with Rose and was checking my work voicemail from my cellphone, and heard this angina-inducing message..."Andy, you weren't at your desk when I stopped by; why don't you stop in to my office when you get this?"
Either I'm way smarter than I think, he's a dumbass, or I'm really good at CYA. (covering your ass, for those of you not in the corporate world.) Probably a combination of the latter two.
And he told me that I'm still getting another 5 percent at my upcoming 4th year milestone at my company. (today was about 3.5 years)
And taking just about as many E-mail breaks as I want--I've got a corner cube with my 19" flatscreen monitor turned juuuust soo....IS hasn't said a word to me in all this time.
There's an adage that goes something like this: "Be sure to measure your success by what you give up in order to obtain you goals."