After my rant about photography the other day, I found myself checking out the new iWork info over at Apple’s website. Know what I think I’ve hit on? I like to be creative. I don’t really have a need to buy (or rather, upgrade) this software. I did once upon a time, when I was still in college. And I miss it. I miss the opportunity to create things. I thoroughly enjoyed putting things together and impressing others.

Now what do I do? It’s not as if I’m necessarily bored or anything, but I have a deep desire or drive to be the best at whatever it is I do. Why? Why the competitive streak? I have no idea. It is what it is, I guess. And now it dawns on me, this is why people get involved so heavily in extra curricular activities – they’re bored, and need a creative outlet to make themselves feel valuable & ingenious. I guess I’ll have to find myself a hobby.

Maybe photography or something ☺



Plan for a Hobby
Actually, when I get a more “fixed” schedule at my new job, I have plans to take up Tae Kwon Do or something. Ju-Jitsu. Yoga. Chess. Something.

But probably not Chess. Or Yoga. Neither of those would help me to defeat Jason Bourne or John Rambo (Rambo would totally kick Bourne’s ass, btw).



And my computer needs a use, too
There shouldn’t be a need to ask, but I really really like using my computer (because it’s a Mac is the answer to the question “why?”). And I enjoy being creative with it, because I can make whatever I can think of, from beautiful photographs to nailed-down reports to flyers to letters to – well, anything really.

And I don’t want this little blog to be it, dammit, I want to to take over the world with it or something. Cure cancer. Rid the world of hunger. Dispel racism. Maybe thwart republican-ism, that’d be a worthwhile endeavor. Something. I want a newer-faster-better computer, but more than that, I want to need a newer-faster-better computer. Does that make sense to you all?



Why Rich, Famous people try to kill themselves
Owen Wilson hospitalized after 911 called for “Suicide Attempt”

Clearly the answer is money doesn’t buy happiness.

But what strikes me as odd is that though this may be true (or so they say – I’ve not had the chance to test it out) I haven’t seen any Famous, Rich people at my door to give me all their evil, evil cash. And clearly, they should be doing this. Time to call a few publicists or something.
Peace, all you poor, happy people.

Tags: Photography

Through many phone calls and references, we found someone who was not the dog’s owner, but has lived around here their entire life and sort of has a knack for finding lost dogs (or having them find her) and reuniting beast with master.

She’s sweet on animals, so we felt comfortable letting her take the dog with, and hopefully she’ll find the family who’s missing her or another good fit. Because the family that’s missing her really should have cared enough to put tags on the dog, huh? One would think.



Why I love “The Matrix”
Yes I know the film’s like 10 years old now (can you believe that?), but I just got through watching it a couple of days ago and I must say that to me, it’s the de facto standard for science fiction flicks.

Most science fiction movies sort of force you to accept a certain level of disbelief in order to swallow it. Star Wars? OK, so in a galaxy far far away, everyone is human. Yeah…. But with The Matrix? They have everything covered. It’s so cleanly devised, there’s really no way you can say “Yeah but it’s not real,” because by its very design it could be. They explain nuances of our existence such as Déja vu. They explain how the existence we accept as reality is really just a construct designed to have us believe that as truth. It’s so unbelievably perfect, that you’d swear that there’s no way a silly sci-fi action flick could be the first to develop such a concept.

And you’d be right. The concept is many, many, many, many, MANY years old. It’s been around for many a century, played with by the philosopher Decartes & Aristotle, as well as others. The basic concept is called the “Brain-in-a-Vat.” There’s still holes in this theory too, but it’s been the basis of many an argument for human rationale & our perceptions of reality & how our interactions define it (is the Matrix real? What is real?).

You can sit & watch this movie, and be completely enthralled with what’s going on, and not have any moments where you think “yeah but the idea of this is preposterous,” or “that’s too unbelievable to swallow,” because they are essentially giving you the reality you know, then explaining to you in succinct fashion that your reality is a lie, and explain how what you're seeing is in reality, reality. Sweet.

Most sci-fi’s don’t explain anything. There’s a big hole right at the beginning where you just accept that all aliens look like humans & talk english, or that necromongers kill all aliens that are not them (who all look human), or that aliens from Mars (which has no living, complex life forms) appear to eat our brains (Martians just happen to need to eat brain cells of humans, a species on a completely different planet? What a coincidence, huh?). There’s no “far far way,” no “in the future,” no “special training ops” or anything like that. It’s the reality you’ve been told to believe, and philosophically it’s dead on.

OK, so the 2nd and 3rd films are a little flimsy & preachy & weak; they weren’t supposed to be made, and besides I didn’t say ‘why I love The Matrix Trilogy’ I said just ‘The Matrix’ and was very measured in that.

I know what I’m talking about here, OK? I got an A in philosophy.

But to mention it one more again: this film is almost 10 years old. Does it really seem like it was that long ago to you? Seems like a few or so to me, not nearly a decade passed. Must be getting old.

Oh well. Peace.

Tags: New Family Members

The Adopted
OK, not quite. But strange thing, shortly after the Vick post, what shows up on my doorstep? A Pit Bull. Well OK, she didn’t show up on our doorstep so much as she hopped into our 4Runner. Now, she’s cute, friendly, waggy, superplayful and has not one mean bone in her body, but when you’ve never met her before and suddenly you’re face-to-face with a mouth as big as your skull? Yeah, not a great position to find yourself saying ‘hi’ to a Pit.

We made & posted some “Found Dog” flyers around our area, while taking her for a walk in hopes she’d find something familiar and lead us to her home. Not quite. Well, not quite on that not quite, either. She DID recognize the walk back to our house. I even took her off the leash and she ran up to our house and waited at the door for us.

Which I guess means she’s adopted us.



Sadly, though….
We can’t keep her. We’re already pushing our luck with two dogs of our own, one of which is probably half Pit Bull (we’re really not sure). And she’s not house trained, clearly the case as she’s been bouncing off the couch, bed, us, and occasionally the walls too.

And on our walk around with signs, we got quite a number of stares from passersby, with us holding onto this 55lb, ripped, big-jawed Pit Bull. They don’t care to hear that she’s very nice, they don’t care to find out. And my heart would beat each time we’d walk by people, especially smaller children. Not that I think she’d reach out and attack, but if the parents freak out (which they will), then the kids freak out, then the dog freaks out…. Could be bad, you know?

So she’d have to stay at the house. The house that she’s not well-trained at maintaining to our level of cleanliness. And then that wouldn’t be fair to her to leave her there as we took out our “good” dogs. So our dogs would have to stay home too, in the issue of fairness. And that wouldn’t be fair to them.

So we’re trying to find a way to get her a home, find her owners, or find her a rescue facility that’ll take her. Wish us luck.

Peace.

Tags: Animals, New Family Members

Yesterday me & The Girl went up to Trinidad (view album over here). It’s supposed to be pretty cool, and I guess it is pretty & all, but it’s just not my style. For those of you from So Cal not familiar with Trinidad, it’s kinda sorta like Laguna Beach. And if you’re not from So Cal and therefore don’t know Laguna Beach or Trinidad, just think pretty place on a beach with cliffs & such.

It’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like a quaint little retirement community. And there’s no land to really be had. I like where I am is I guess what I’m saying. The beaches are prettier there for sure, but – and this is the real thing for me – beaches are a place to visit, even if it’s daily, not a place to live at. I want land, cows, horses, birds, and penguins (yes I’m still on that kick). Cows & horses don’t do too well eating sand I reckon, and I want to tend my home & gardens & prairies. I just want them surrounded by Redwoods & flanked by the beach.

We’re probably going to trek back up there soon, take the dogs so they can have some fun. The beach there is a little calmer, so Miles will be able to swim out farther than he can where we are now. He likes the waves & all, but it’ll be a nice change of pace. Maybe he can swim out to one of the islands or something! That’d be cool as hell.



Crescent City’s next
We’ve yet to make it up to Crescent City, though we intend to. Trinidad isn’t an all-day affair, and we didn’t have all day yesterday. Next time we’re both off for a day or so, we’ll try to plan a trip to all-day Crescent City. And this time, we’ll bring hiking boots.

Yeah, we both took shoes that weren’t really cut out for what we ended up doing in Trinidad, namely hiking the small trail head they have. We decided that next time we go anywhwere, we take 3 pairs of shoes: flip-flops, hiking boots, and comfy shoes, so we’re prepared for anything. And quite honestly, I think that the beaches @ Crescent City will have us switching from flip-flops to hiking boots as we go, so they’re going to be a must.



Questioning my photography
I LOVE photography. And it’s weird that now that I live in one of the most picturesque locales imaginable, I’m questioning whether I want to continue the endeavor. Well, let me clarify that: I’m questioning whether I want to continue trying to get really good with good equipment any longer. I may just invest in a pocketable do-it-all style digital camera and leave it at that.

It’s hard, because I realize more & more that I’m NOT going to make myself into a successful photographer & make any money at it. What I do is done over & over 100 times better by people who’ve been doing it forever with background & training & everything else I don’t have. No one’s going to go “oh wow, you’re a photographic genius; please let me pay you BUKU bucks for some prints.” It’s just not going to happen. And in a sense, I’m in over my head already in this regard. I have a camera I paid $700 for, plus two lenses, paid another $149 for specialty software to process the images, had to buy a larger card to store the larger RAW images on, etc. I like taking photos, but at what cost?

I spend a lot of time & effort making the most of what I have. I find I really need a faster computer to process the images I take with my equipment, but for what? They are most likely just going to sit cataloged on my Hard Drive, never having a viewing. And those that do get viewed will most likely get shown on galleries like these online – and I don’t need the capability to print 2-ft by 3-ft prints to do that. Part of me wants more power, more pixels, so I can have the ability to blow it up to 4-ft by 6-ft, but I have no real need to do that. Those newer, bigger files will just sit on my hard drive still, doing the same thing the other 4.000-odd photos are doing – namely, sitting pretty without an audience, because as pretty as they are, there’s prettier out there, and no matter what I can’t afford to play with the Big Dogs at that kind of level.

And it’s not that I think I’m bad. I actually think I’m pretty good, and have a natural “eye” for good shots. It’s just that what I prefer to shoot – candid photos, abstract artistic stuff, nature shots – is so overdone by so many people that there’s really just no space to compete. I don’t shoot models; I have no formal training in it, nor do I want any. My skills will not net me a photo assignment with National Geographic; I will not be shooting Bikini-clads for Sports Illustrated, nor have my name next to any copyright symbols for Nike ads. So what’s the point of having a $1,300 camera with a $900 lens that can capture with wicked clarity a fantastic shot that I could print almost 6-ft tall and hang on a wall? It’s NOT going to be hanging on a wall, unless I hang it on mine & I’m already out of walls. It’s probably only ever going to be displayed here on this website, and quite honestly a decent quality all-in-one prosumer camera would do just fine for how my work will actually be put to use.

I guess in some sense it’s just that I want to be a great photographer. I love doing it, but I can’t justify the expense to do what I want when chances are I can’t even really do it, and will never get a return on it. Ansel Adams isn’t going to be replaced by random bob, a.r.c. anytime soon, know what I’m sayin’?

Hey I’m just ranting. Maybe it won’t matter because soon I’ll have enough money to blow on it anyways. Probably not. But maybe I’ll make use of it somehow. I mean, I enjoy it, right? So if I could do something with it, say local shows or even just small things for friends it may make it worth it in some sense, if not monetarily. Time will tell. Until then, I already have a camera, the software, and I’ll probably get the computer anyways (because I’m a slight techie), so it’ll be a back-burner kind of question going into the future. What do you guys think? Honest opinions only.

Oh, by the way, that photo at the top is me at work ☺

Peace.

Tags: Photography

Wanna not piss off your wait staff? Here’s some helpful hints to avoid getting the ol’ “spit in the food” gag pulled on you. Being all but married to a waitress, I have the privy of being spoken to almost nightly about what people have done to get “blacklisted,” as well as other things that border on stereotypical. Hell, who are we kidding? They are stereotypical.

• Don’t tell them how much you’re going to tip, because you’re a big tipper. This doesn’t work, and every waitress & waiter knows you’re lying; big tippers don’t tell you how much they’re going to tip, only cheap bastards who don’t plan on leaving tips.

• Don’t smile and pretend everything is OK when the waitress asks, then complain to the manager. It doesn’t strengthen your case when trying to get free food. All it does is get you “blacklisted” by the wait staff. You don’t want that to happen.

• In that vein, don’t try to pull the whole “it isn’t cooked enough/cooked too much/has the wrong fries” thing in order to get your meal comped. Look, it’ll work most of the time, but if you plan to ever return to the establishment, being blacklisted is not a thing you want. The wait staff gets dinged when you do this, so your selfish desire actually hurts the people serving you, even if you don’t intend it. The Girl used to work at a place that had a sort of “three strikes & your out” policy; get dinged 3 times, get the can. You want that on your conscience?

• Your wait staff gets taxed on the tips you leave them. So, NO, they are not making an over-abundance of money. The problem is compounded when you pay & tip with credit card, and do so badly. Because they have to claim a certain percentage of their sales, but then they also have to “tip out” their helpers – the bus boys & cooks. So you tip $3 on 20. They have to claim 20% of the food bill, so they get taxed on $4. But they are only taking home $2 of it, because some of it goes to the bussers, and some go to the cooks.

• Don’t be mexican. For whatever reason, mexicans almost never tip the customary amount, and most of the time fail to even meet half that obligation. When you go out, think about how much you’re going to spend, then figure in the tip as well. If you can’t afford the T-bone and the associated tip, then perhaps opt for the grilled chicken, huh?

• Separate checks. Big no-no. Some restaurants are better than others at making it easier for the wait staff to work with these, but it's always a pain in the butt. Here's an idea; bring cash, and try to remember all that 3rd grade math you learned way back in 3rd grade; divide the check up yourself. If it's a must (say, you each are paying with credit card), at the least mention it BEFORE they take your order. And it it's split more than 3 ways... well, don't split it more than 3 ways. Someone's getting some spit otherwise.

• Don’t be black. For whatever reason, African-Americans almost never tip the customary amount. Not only that, but they’re typically rude, hit on you (even if you're married), and expect $100 service for $10, but they’re going to argue about that too, and probably only pay $4.99.

Tags: women

Found the new site, did you? Good! That’s good! Unfortunately, there’s not much more here for you right now than there was on the old site, sorry…. ☹

But that’ll change soon enough. The other site will no longer be updated; all new content will appear here solely, so consider this an investment that pays off in the future.

And don’t forget to change any bookmarks you had to reflect www.randombob.net.

OK now? Goodie.



One minor SNAFU
Moving out to the REAL web necessitated some changes. Namely, if you've frequented my prodigital galleries webpage, you'll be saddened (maybe?) to know that they're not up anymore. I had to move things around in order to get THIS site hosted. Not much of a loss, though. It's not like it was really doing anything for me. I'll probably just make an account on smugmug and be done with it. Then, if I DO get famous, I'll revist the idea of putting up my own dedicated picture site.

Peace.

You know, it’s a long time in the making. And like most aliases & nicknames, it has roots that span a few generations of friends & locales.

It all started when I was in the military. Every time something wasn’t right or someone did something that was “messed up” in some way, when no one knew who it was and we were all looking at each other like “duh….” I’d say something to the effect of “dammit! Bob’s doing it again, dammit,” and everyone would look at me like I was retarded.

Because no one knew a Bob. We didn’t have any around us. Not a one that I can recall. Bob was a construct. Bob was no one, he was everyone, and he was both at the same time. Why did I pick the name bob to assign to this “Not Me” personality? Because it’s so plain, ordinary and unsuspecting that it was always everything anti- whatever was going on. “Bob” doesn’t snipe people from 1,000 yards away. “Bob” is bald, wears glasses, and does your taxes. “Bob” can’t lift 4 loaded gun racks and dump them somewhere else, “Bob” carries a hankie and has his mom open the jars he can’t budge.

Yeah, so “Bob” was the logical choice for a name if your goal is to be ridiculous. Which mine was.

As time went on, friends began to anticipate the “Bob,” and it caught on. I was the “Bob” guy. And eventually, “Bob” was me, in a sense. “What’s up, Bob?” people would say to me. Nuthin’ much. And this carried over to my days after the military, as well. So when it came time to create a web presence, “Bob” seemed a logical choice.



I’m sorry, did anyone ask? Why are you sharing?
Because I spent the $6.95 it cost to get my own domain, and I thought that I’d explain why you’ll be navigating to www.randombob.net from now on. Yeah, that’s right, folks, I have a web presence all my own!

Turns out, bob.com is taken, as is bob.net, and bob.org, et al. So what’s a good way to describe myself otherwise, in context of Bob? Well, the name is random, describing any random person, such as Bob. Randombob. So that’s about the start & the end of that story. The a.r.c. is born out of other roots, but I won’t digress those to just anyone. But that got tacked on the end, because as time goes on, I find there’s MORE randombobs online than just I. And this Bob is unique, so that’s just a differentiation, really. Heh. A “unique” random Bob. That’s what they call an pimply idiot.

Or oxymoron.




No, really people
That’s where you’ll be going from now on. Bookmark that site, because that’s the new place, OK? Yeah!

Peace.

Yes, yes I did. I changed the layout. I tell people it was to make it easier to navigate for people who are either unfamiliar with the concept of “Mouse-Over” lists, but honestly it’s just part of my Word Domination Plans. So far I’m still on Plan ‘A.’



Why’s this page different, though?
You may have noticed that this blog page is slightly different from the others. The colors & content design are about the same, but the sidebar & navigation menu are flipped to the other side. Why? No reason, I just wanted to set the blog apart a little bit from the rest of the site. I think it solves that pretty well, eh? Not to worry, for the ONE or TWO people that actually patron this place, this is nothing like the blog changeover of a few months ago; all the content is right where it was before, nothing’s moved, just the layout is different. Enjoy!



Back to the regularly scheduled blog
I couldn’t go through all the trouble of writing a blog & not mention Michael Vick Pleading Guilty, could I? Have I mentioned that I think he & Clinton Portis are gay lovers who have a combined IQ equal to less than a pile of my own dung? Oh that’s right, I have.



Yahoo joins Paramount, Universal in Pissing me the Hell off.
They’ve been playing around with my homepage recently, letting me know that there’s a New Version! That I’m just sure to love. I tried it, because I’m a sucker for all things new, but I switched back to old. Mostly because I’m stubborn. The new page is just too damn wide. The type is just too damn big. What the hell? Yahoo decides to “update” their page, and suddenly it’s assumed that everyone is 10/20 vision or something? Yeah. But see, I could get over all of that. The real deal-breaker is that they removed content from my page that I can’t get back. That pisses me off. What’s really insulting about it, though, is that on the page that leads you to your new page is a little cartoon guy that says something to the effect of “Relax. All your old content is already there!”

Lying sons of b*tches. F-you, Yahoo. I think I’ll just go to Apple’s start page or something. Maybe buy an iMac or new Macbook Pro 17” w/ glossy, HD screen. Take that, bastards. Take away my “New Movies Released This Week” module and think I won’t notice? How the hell else am I supposed to know what’s new this week? Huh?

See? See how it’s all linked? Uni & Paramount take away the possibility of getting their catalog on Blu-Ray, thereby postponing any sort of “Ultimate Home Theatre” anti-theatre plans I had, and Yahoo is taking away my link to what’s new in the damn theatres.

Conspiracy, I tell you.



Pleasant Surprise of the Month
Wanna know what our combined gas bill was this month? $40. Sick, isn’t it? What’s funny is that it doesn’t seem like we drive all that much less. But obviously we do, as in So Cal our monthly budget was $250 a month. Yikes, we’re saving over $200 a month in gas alone. Our utilities bill this month? $40. Yeah. See, we ran up a whole whopping 189 Kilowatt hours. We don’t use any A/C – in fact we don’t even have one –we don’t use any electricity most of the time, and when we have lights on they’re all the high-efficiency kind.

Yeah, we switched over all the existing bulbs in the house to the CCFL variety. You’d think this would be an expensive venture, but actually, no. We were at a local supply store looking for a park bench for our back yard (which we found), and stumbled upon a parking lot sale (which is where we found the bench. For $40. Pattern?) While in line to check out, I look over and see BOXES of CCFLs, on sale for 75¢ each. Damn. So yeah, we stocked up. Regularly like $3-$4 apiece, no? So it was a good buy and the savings will catch up with us next month, to boot!



And just to reiterate
Michael Vick is a flamer. Clinton Portis loves him for it. And in a land ruled by Karma, they’d both be mauled repeatedly until their death by perfectly-sane-yet-judgmental dogs.

Peace.

Tags: Vehicles, Animals

Just when I thought that the new “format wars” were about finished (seeing as how Blu-Ray had been outpacing HD-DVD by over a 2-to-1 margin just this year) and considering “borrowing” a player from a retail store, these two movie houses decide to drop support for Blu-Ray and focus solely on HD-DVD.

And by that, I mean they were nudged monetarily in that direction in a back room deal. Yay for consumers, aye? Why let the better format win, what good would that do?

So yeah. Back to square one. Waiting for a competitor to die. Man, I feel like a spectator at a Michael Vick Dog fight. Have I told you how much I hate him? Him & Clinton Portis? Yeah, I have, that’s right.



“Borrowing” (see above)
How the hell is a consumer supposed to figure out if the new “HD” formats are worth the money? It used to be you could rent hardware from places like Blockbuster Video or similar by putting down a deposit of like $250, renting for like $20 a day, and keep it for a few days. This worked great, especially on video game consoles you were unwilling to pay that much for without trying first.

Well the same thing goes here! I want to actually try HD-DVD or Blu-Ray for a movie viewing or two before I plunk down $200-400 on a player & commit to paying an extra $5 a flick to own. But no one lets you anymore.

Except, well, retail stores. Retail stores with ample return policies, that is. And as vile & unjust as it may be, it may very well be the only way one can actually try. You buy, try, & return. Just make sure you do it on credit card, that way if they try to get ballsy you sic the credit issuer on them.

For anyone so inclined to try what I just preached, be aware that while Best Buy probably has it in stock, they’re also freaking horrible when it comes to returns of any kind. I used to think they were the Big Boy’s Toys R’ Us, but now I just think they blow donkeys. In a virtual world. Called World of Donkeys.

Enjoy that Geek Squad visual.

Peace.

Michael Vick Pleads GUILTY to dog fighting & animal abuse.

When the story first broke, Clinton Portis (who appears to be quite full of himself) was interviewed and said that he didn’t see why everyone was bugging out, he’s an upstanding citizen of the community & people are just trying to chop him down. It’s his house, so it shouldn’t matter. Um, yeah… about that. You see Mr. Clinton Portis sir, Michael Vick is kinda by definition not an upstanding citizen of the community, seeing as how the community decided that fighting dogs for profit is inhumane and as such wrote a “law” specifically banning this behavior. This behavior which Vick plead GUILTY to.

See, also about that whole ‘it’s his house’ thing you mentioned. You’re just a dumb jock, so you may not get it, but that statement opens up a whole can of worms you’re too dumb to comprehend. Like this one, for instance: Hey, don’t arrest me for hanging niggers. I was on my own property. Hell yeah! Whooping niggers and making them pick cotton – on my property – is totally cool. I’m an upstanding citizen, even though I beat & hang niggers, Clinton, because I only do it on my property, so what’s the big deal? Stop tryin’ to tear down whitey just because he’s beatin’ niggers on his own property. What gives? It' can't be that serious a crime. it's on my own property. You. ASS.

Yeah. Total sarcasm if you can grasp that, you oaf (except calling you an ass. That was legit). Maybe you see how stupid your talking is? Next time refrain. Ball. Chase. Smash. Big Paycheck. That is about the only thing you’re paid for, and thank god for that.



Addendum for Clinton Portis:
If you come within 5,000 feet of MY dogs, I don’t care how big & tough you are, I’ll misdirect you with a 3-4 Dime-Back scheme to confuse you and hang you like a nigger while you’re not looking. Don’t come within 5,000 feet of my dogs, dammit.

Same to you, Vick.

Needless to say, you're both hate-listed now. Buh-bye.



The reason I moved
It’s the end of August, and where I’m at the ground is still pretty green – even though it’s been a drought year – and the temps have hovered between 65º-73º during the day & 50º-55º nightly.

This is in stark contrast to the highs of above 100º daily where I originated, and nightly temps of about 65º-70º. Yeah, I’m feelin’ pretty good about the move and all.

Not only that, but gardening has taken on new dimensions. Instead of focusing so much time, energy, effort, and water into trying damn hard to get things to come out of the ground, we have realized we can pretty much find dirt, plant seed, and do a 360º, only to find sprouts coming out of the ground already. Yeah, I exaggerate a little, but not much. We’ve planted wildflowers & Nasturtiums & California Poppies (oh my!) and been witness to a 3-day turnaround between planted & sprouted.

Except for one spot. The spot Miles (that’s my Lab!) tends to pee on. Guess it is bad for the plants.



Only true friends will understand this test of willpower
I’ve now lived 3 doors down from Round Table Pizza for two months or so, and have only had it 4 times, 2 of which were with people visiting from So Cal.

Yeah, I’m feeling pretty proud at the moment.

Peace.

Tags: hate, Animals

Now don’t start telling me about how When Harry Met Sally is like 20 years old. What? I’m late to the party, OK? I admit it, so let’s move on, shall we?

And it’s not that I’ve never watched the movie before; I have it in my collection of DVDs (which has a funny aside in relation to this particular film. More on that later), and I’ve watched it plenty of times. This night, me and The Girl decided to watch a movie and just relax. She picked, and next thing you know we’re on a car trip from Chicago to New York with a beautiful girl and an impish jew boy.

I haven't watched the film often of recent, mostly because it’s lacking in special effects & surround sound specialness. Our new place has nice acoustics, and the sound is so amazing that I keep wanting to watch The Matrix or Star Wars or something to invigorate my senses. Anyway, back to Harry & Sally. It’s really a rather entertaining film. It’s funny and sad and true as well. Men & women can’t be friends, because the sex always does get in the way! Who’d have thunk? I mean, with all the sex in every aspect of our lives – from advertising lingerie to advertising dish soap – who would have ever thought sex would be such an important topic and so divisive?

Observations:

• Billy Crystal was never an attractive person. He’s not terribly ugly or anything, but he’s just not really an attractive man that I’d consider in the league of Meg Ryan.

• Meg Ryan has nice legs. Too bad there’s no butt attached to them.

• Carrie Fisher must’ve had a body double during her Princess Leia Golden Bikini days.

• Everyone in New York is Jewish. Except Meg Ryan.

• Meg Ryan may be Jewish.

• It is perfectly acceptable to have orgasms in public, as long as you finish your salad afterwards.

• Often times, people say the same thing at the same exact time. This happens frequently, especially if the people are friends and talking to other people in different areas over a phone. Out of earshot of each other.


So yeah. I think add an explosion or two, maybe throw in a terrorist subplot with dagger-throwing ninjas somewhere avoiding massive gunfire in slo-mo, and you’ve got A+ material. As it is? Just a regular A.

Hey, I’m picky.



Tables & Chairs & Staining, Oh My!
So The Girl has been going crazy lately with home creative stuff. I need to get her an Xbox or something, she’s spending us dry. It’s not completely her fault, I accept $40 of the blame, but nothing more.

See, we’ve been pouring more of ourselves into the back yard than we really should as renters, but it’s fun. After we got the shrub trimmed and then just chopped it down and ripped out the stump to plant a garden complete with Bird Bath, we decided we needed a place to sit and enjoy this beautiful creation (well, it will be beautiful in a couple of months, anyway). So we went out looking for a bench. We looked high, we looked low, and eventually found one at a local home store. They were having a parking lot sale, and lo-and-behold, a small do-it-yourself bench for – you guessed it – $40.

Well it’s nice and all, but it’s sort of the cookie in that now we needed a glass of milk. Perhaps I should clarify: The Girl needed a glass of milk. So while I was away, she ends up back at the home store, because we now need to stain the bench. OK, I can handle that. I was having a harder time handling the stain all over the outside of the house (“I thought we were staining the bench, honey”), but who am I to raise questions? We can get passed that though, no problem. But now we need end tables to compliment the bench, or so I'm told. So today I get home from a long day at work, and find that we have new tables to compliment our new bench. Should. Have. Seen. It. Coming.

That’s where we are now with it. I’m just waiting to come home to a 7’ tall water fountain made of solid bronze. Because that’s obviously where we’re headed.



Upside to the Cookie Monster’s new creative streak
The small little stands she found were only $3 on sale. So we went back, because they’re just about the right height to act as speaker stands! So now the surround sound system sounds even better, with all the speakers at about the same height instead of 5 of the six being bound to the floor. You know, by gravity and all.



Which is why I maybe recommended watching a movie tonight
But hey, When Harry Met Sally is a good movie. I thoroughly enjoyed it, dagger-throwing ninjas or not. Machine guns a-blazing from the right, left, behind, and above, oh my!



Which reminds me:
Funny thing in that movie. Right after they consummated their 12-year friendship (they “did it”), Harry’s lying in bed and finds a box of index cards.

Apparently, Sally organizes her movies alphabetically on index cards, she’s so Obsessive Compulsive. Oh Sally…. If only you’d met Harry sometime in the late 90’s or early 2000’s. Because I got you outdone, girlfrien’.

I have my movies organized on my Mac. Alphabetically. And by Genre. And Type. Yeah. I’m that Obsessive about it. Thing is, people always laugh when the first see it (usually when they want to borrow a movie and I “check it out” on my list). Yeah it’s silly, you silly little italian, you. But when I explain that it helps me keep track of all my movies & I know who has what at any given time, I haven’t lost a movie in like 10 years. Then the laughter stops.

And weeks later I learn they started their own list. So maybe I’m on to something. If only there were a way to make money using these skills & bounty…. Oh well, can’t think of any.

Peace.

Tags: women

Rented & watched Pathfinder this weekend. Oh. My. God. I can’t say enough about this flick. Well actually I could sum it up in about one word (suck) but what fun would that be? Oh, where to begin?

This movie was like the worst B-rate movie I’ve ever seen. The “indians” have to have quotation marks around them, because they were so silly it was ridiculous. It was like they couldn’t decide if the indians were smart peoples are retarded. They speak perfect english, which is fine seeing as how they’re the main characters and english is the language of the audience, so it’s forgivable. But could we get rid of the stereotypes? I mean, they’re indians, it’s not like they have to talk “how now brown cow” or something. I mean, I don’t expect them to talk “like, totally indianese” or something, but normal speech would have been a good starting point.

Then we meet the bad guys. They’re bad. They come from far away. They kill children because they can. But then mysteriously, they all die or something, except for one kid. This is dumb and undermines the movie, and I’ll explain that in a minute. But it goes on from here, the indians save the boy, blah blah blah. We know where it’s going, he grows up, the bad guys come back, and he’s supposed to stop them.

It ends with him stopping them. But he didn’t so much outsmart them as they were just dumb. Which makes no sense, seeing as how they were more technologically advanced, and thus quite a bit “smarter.” Hell, they came all the way down from fucking Iceland, right, the damn Norse? But wait, it’s not over! Now we get to see the last crowning achievement in stupidity that is this film: they give the leadership role to a girl. Yeah see, I’m not sexist or anything, but let’s be honest here: women still aren’t equal, they sure as hell weren’t leading the damn tribe 600 years ago. This isn’t Xena warrior princess, people.

So about that whole “kid left behind ruins the point of the movie” thing. Yeah see, the beginning of the film says that this is a legend about why the Norse came but didn’t stay. So the basic tale they want you to believe is that they came, but this guy is the reason they didn’t stay; he whooped up on them good, they didn’t return, so the Norse stayed away. Yeah, except that supposes that we forgot that the child was found – abandoned – in a Norse Ship that was destroyed & all the Norsemen were dead already. So um, it would seem that he, and thus this film, was entirely unnecessary.

And that’s pretty much how I feel about that.



On the Lot is a Big waste of time, if you’re curious
As I was typing the review to possibly the worst god-awful movie ever put on the big-screen, I was also watching this travesty of television Faux calls On the Lot. It’s pretty bad. A lot of silly, unqualified “directors” peddling their 2-minute crap on the airwaves. I like movies. These are not movies. They’re crap. And what’s worse, they all seem to think that they’re funny and can do comedy.

They can’t.

Luckily there’s only one more show left. And I don’t think I’ll be renewed next year, the only thing they got going for them is one hot girl, and she’s not all there anyways, so it’s easy to ignore her.



Which kinda-sorta leads me to this. Not so Smoothly
Apple released their new iMac last week. It has some pretty nifty specs, coming with a 24” screen, an optional 2.8ghz processor, and up to 1,000GB of Hard Disk space. So it’s sleek, fast, & beautiful. Not to mention pretty damn portable, especially if you opt for the wireless internet setup & keyboard, you find that the machine is only tethered by one single cable supplying the power. Portable yes, for a desktop system, and oh-so-tempting, leaving me in quite the quandary.

You see, I had a pretty powerful dual processor system before, and decided to give it up for the mobility of a laptop. I knew I was giving up some processor power, but the tradeoffs for mobility – especially while I was going to school – more than justified it, especially since I was doing literally nothing that was heavily processor or graphic card intensive. Now however, I am knee-deep in digital photography, and a lot of the stuff I do IS processor and graphic card intensive. But I’ve grown accustomed to my mobility. I’ve grown accustomed to being able to sit on the couch, watch bad television, and type up a blog in a lot more time than it should really take.

I had been contemplating the purchase of a new Macbook Pro 17” HD Core 2 Duo System in the eventual future to replace my aging PowerBook G4 system. Now though, I’m stuck. I don’t take my computer out much anymore, so the “need” for a laptop has vanished, only leaving the comfort & convenience of Anywhere Typing®, such as right now on the couch, watching Fall TV.

After a lot of internal debate, I think I’ll still stick with my laptop setup. The convenience is just too much to give up, methinks. I can’t type on the toilet with the iMac. Well I could, but it would require a lot more prep time & planning than I really want to put in to a pow-wow at the throne, you know what I’m sayin’?

And what’s more, the laptops cost about $700 more configured the way I want as compared to the top-o-the- line iMac spec’d like I want. So for $700 extra, I give up 7” of screen, .4ghz processor speed, TONS of Hard Disk space, and basically only get the bonus of portability and the aforementioned convenience of Anywhere Typing®. All this, and I think I still may be leaning towards the laptop. Can you believe it?

Anyway. Apple has a lot of tempting items on the market right now. I can’t quite make up my mind at the moment, but rest assured, Apple will have some of my money in their pockets within the next year most likely. It’ll be a hard decision, no doubt, but one I look forward to making.



Old Dog. New Trick
Since we moved, we have sort of jury-rigged the back door to stay open. This sucks because at night it lets all the cold air in. But we needed to have it that way so the dogs could make it out to go potty. Well I finally got dirty & put a spring-loaded hinge on it, and jury-rigged the striker closed, then tied a rope around the handle so the dogs could pull it open.

Right, okay so now we have the idea & the setup taken care of. Time to teach the dogs what I want them to do. Now this, as any dog person will tell you, is the tricky part. Especially when one of your dogs is 11 years old, and the other is cute but not quite lighting every corner of a dark room, if you get me.

I think that the old dog – Miles, my Lab – has it down. Well, he understands that when I say “open the door” and there’s a treat outside, that if he pulls the rope he can go and get the treat. But if I just put the treat out, he’ll stare at it through the window until I tell him to open the door. Control freaks may like this, but I’d prefer my dog actually grasp the concept of letting himself in & out as he needs & sees fit.

If I walk out & call him, he’ll come. If I walk out and don’t call him, he won’t come. Huh. How do I get him from coming when called to just coming & going? Ideas? Weird. Most everyone ignores me 99% of the time, including other dogs. I thinks that’s why I like Miles so much: he listens like twice as much as anyone else to what I say.

So like 2% of the time.

Peace.

Tags: Animals

Went to See Bourne Ultimatum last night. I must say, that even with the heightened expectations, I came away happy. It’s a good movie, with lots of action and well thought out all the way through. Tip, though: Rent the other two right quick before trekking off to see this one. Not that you won’t enjoy it anyways, but it will give you a fresh view of where we are in the series. The importance of this fact was hit home last night as we sat in the theatre, and during the 1st two minutes of the film, The Girl turns to me and says, “So the second film ended with him getting together with that chick, right?”

Uh, no. The second film began with that chick being mowed down on a bridge and dying. ?

I’ll give it a B+. It’s good, but I thought it had a weakness or two. 1st weakness was it’s over-reliance on flashbacks. They’re good, they give you the story, but they have to be done sparingly, and I think they can kind of be a cheap vehicle to tell the audience things. Also, when the whole film is based on someone’s recollection of past details, sudden flashbacks in the middle of the movie can make the whole rest of the plot seem sort of unnecessary. I mean, why bother chasing & killing to get memories back, when you can just sit at a sink & remember?

2nd shortcoming was something that has been since the first installation. OK, so let’s get this straight. He’s being hunted by arguably the most intelligent agency in the world, as well as INTERPOL, the UN, Rowandan refugees, Charlie's Angels, Bebe's Kids, and probably even Canada. Everyone he’s with cuts their hair, dyes it a different color, gets piercings, and possibly removes an appendage, all to lose any resemblance to their past selves. Bourne? Fuck it. He’s going to parade around with the same hairdo, clean-cut shaven face, and drab attire that he’s always been seen in. And then catch trains, planes, & automobiles in and out of every country. And just hope that no one recognizes him, right?

Is it because he knows he’s a bad-ass? I mean, the guy fucked people’s shit up with things such as: A newspaper, a Bic pen, a book, a towel, and a cotton ball. He’s the shit. Does he just not care? Is he like, “Go ahead, come after me. I’ve got a half-eaten tuna sandwich in my left hand; you’ll regret ever coming within 100 feet of me.” Eh. Bad-ass or not, if I was being hunted by that many people & that many agencies that would snipe me at a moment’s notice, I think I’d invest in a new ‘do, maybe grow a beard. Maybe wear tie-dye shirts. Something.

Of course then again, I would have not made it out of the first 5 minutes of the initial film, either. Because I’m a pussy, comparatively, is what I’m saying.



Yard Transformation
For the last two days, The Girl & I have been up to elbows in tree & flowers. The place we rented has a small- to mid-sized backyard, and while it had grass & a tree when we moved in, the grass hadn’t been cut in like 4 months, and the tree is less tree-like and more bush-like. It was so low-hanging that you had to crouch and bend at the knees to get underneath it.

This was solved by a quick trip to Ace Hardware, and the purchase of some lopping shears. Two days later, I can walk under the tree, and the fence line has been cleanly plucked of grass and laid with wildflower seeds. Why? Because the fence is low and not a solid surface, so it’s hard to actually mow all the grass. The flowers give me some room to get in there with the mower & not run into the fence or leave some grass untouched. It’ll work, trust me.

We also uprooted some little moss-like plant that I can’t remember what the name is from under this one horrendous shrub that I’m pretty sure is the spawn of the tree (which I hate), and tried to replant it around the base of the big(-ger) shrub-tree for aesthetics. All-in-all, I’m pretty proud of what we accomplished, and the yard looks a lot better than it did when we took it over.

But about that shrub-tree. It has fucking thorns. Thorns. I hate this tree with passion. Trying to get it all lopped off and then into little enough pieces to put in the trash can was easy enough, but trying to actually put it in the trash can was another thing all together. We had gardening gloves on, but these thorns… they were like up to a half-inch long, and pointy & rigid. And out to get me. I eventually got wise & just lightly tossed the stuff onto the top of the trash can, then grabbed the Hoe and mashed the stuff in with frustration & hate on my mind. Take that, stupid shrub-tree. Yeah!



Funny thing happened on the way to the Beach
At the beach again this morning. Yeah, I’m there often. Strange that I leave So Cal, and now am more tan than ever before. Kind of like moving to North Dakota after spending your life on an island in the Pacific, only to find after you’ve moved you LOVE coconuts. Or something like that.

Peace.

Tags: hate

Ok, the goal was to get up at 6am every morning. And go to bed by 10pm if possible, or at the earliest time available to me. This way, every day I’d have a good amount of time to do what I want, regardless of when I’m scheduled.

This, however, is not working out. While Wally’s opens at 7am, I find that they think they’ve found their “fit” for me in the scheduling department, and I find that for the next 3 weeks to a month, I’m closing the store every day almost without exception. Oh, and my Weekends have become Monday & Tuesday, which I don’t mind a bit, just sharing.

See, my schedule shows me working until 10:30, but it’s more like 11pm. So by the time I get home, have a moment on the 'puter, get undressed, teeth brushed & alarm set, it’s 11:45-midnight when I glance at the clock. Which makes 6am sort of a hard target. Not a moving one, more like… Well, do you hunt? I don’t, but I imagine a good analogy is that 6am is that 2-point Buck in the distance that’s not worth raising the rifle for. And for those that don’t get that analogy, here’s another: it’s a bit like waking up earlier than you want. ?

Now, it’s not that with my new schedule it’d be impossible to do what I want, but I’m not making it happen. I need to be getting home, getting undressed, & getting into bed, in that order, at that speed. It’s either that, or turn into a graveyarder. Yeck.



The Barber: A Horror Story. By random bob, a.r.c.
Well, the time came earlier than expected for a haircut. It was getting a little long, but the situation was hrried along by my store manager. She thought that perhaps my hair was beginning to look cluttered. Yeah, but it was almost perfect! Well, I just got up here, they’re paying the bills, and I’d like to stay on, whether I agree with the hair policy or not. And at this point, I need them more than they need me, so arguments over whether or not it’s correct (more on that in a minute) are not in the cards for now.

So off to get my hairs cut. There’s a few salons not more than a few minutes walk away from my place, so I trek off on Saturday to see if one of them can spare some time to get it cut before I head to work for the night. The first I go to is closed, and the second one I go to is also closed, though they framed it bad. There was a lady at the counter, and I asked if they had anyone available to cut my hair. She said to go around the back door and there might be someone there to cut it. When I get around back? No one home, door’s locked. 'We don't want yer kind 'round these parts, boy.' Fine.

Well crap. It’s getting later in the ‘noon, my hair’s still longer than I’d like, and all the places I can think of in this new place are either closed or much farther away.

All except one. A last ditch chance; a Barber.

Needing my hairs cut & the job so attached to it, I asked my beating heart to hold still, while I chanced the inevitable. I walked in, and get this: asked if the guy could cut my hair. His response? “Well sure I can!” It’s a positive answer, but in hindsight, I think perhaps a little broad. I mean Sh!t, I can cut my hair too, but that doesn’t mean I want people looking at it afterwards. I pretty much asked a stupid question, and in return got a stupid answer. I followed up with a mention that my fiancé’s mom was a hairdresser & used to do my hair, thinking that maybe it’d prime him as to what I expect, and how my hair's typically done. His response was “so you have a lot of products in your hair?”

I should have run for the door right then.

No, it means that I had a qualified, talented person who knows how to cut hair, cut my hair. Products? What the f*ck. Are you serious? Is that what you think hair stylists are about? Gel? That's why they exist? Is this what you believed all these years? Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the scissors; please sir.

Anyway, against better judgement, I let this guy ruin my hair. Damn, I just gave away the punch line. Oh well, we knew were it was going. He treated my head like a priceless antique, as if maybe it would shatter if he actually handled it. And maybe took the scissors to my head all of 10 times? Before declaring himself finished? He wheels me around, and he proceeds to level out the front of my hair. As if I was 7. I say, 'I think it’s not quite blended well into the sides.' Mistake mistake mistake. He simply takes the scissors and cuts the longer side portion, too.

“OK, we’re done here.” I went to work looking like Billy Ray Cirrus or something: work in the front, party in the back. Except it was F-ed up work, and a lame-ass party. But at least it was shorter now. at least, as if there was a positive to be had here.

I managed to find another decent salon that actually fixed it the next day, which was nice. It’s shorter than I want, but I don’t hold it against her. I brought lemons, she made some damn good lemonade.



Wally’s Policy Versus Wally’s Practice
I don’t know what it is about hair, but where there’s regulation about it, I seem to not agree. Take the military, for example. Hair regulations. Random bob, a.r.c. not happy. Same here. Difference this time is that there’s really no reason for the regulation – not that there was in the military, though they claim hygiene & I can at least see that as an excuse, even if I think it’s just an excuse & nothing more.

The thing is, not a day or two before the long hair talk did I review Wally’s policy. Which policy, you ask? The one against -isms, such as SEXism. “Sexism, you say?” yes, sexism I say.

We say that we’re against sexism, but it seems that in practice that it means only where women could be the plaintiff. Women’s hair need not be any specific length (in the military, as well). Yet mine, as a man, must be no longer than someone specifies, for whatever reason. I claim that it is sexism towards men. And it doesn’t stop at the hair, either. Not that I’ve really asked, but I suspect they don’t want my tattoos showing through my shirts. So I wear two shirts, even though I know I’m going to be hot as hell when working. But last night I witnessed a female coworker’s tattoo, standing out on her chest, plain as day, as her drooping neckline was doing nothing to attempt a cover-up. Furthermore, men have to wear slacks, a collared shirt, and tie. The women-folk, however, seem to be impervious to the dressier regulation.

I complain on the blog only at the moment, because as I stated earlier, I need them more than they need me. I don’t feel like making a ruckus at the moment; it can wait until I’ve proven my worth. Then hopefully, my words will carry some weight, and people will hear them with the merit they have, rather than tainted by the fact that I’m just “the new guy,” messing up the way things have always been. I mean, I believe in looking professional, I’m not trying to grow dreadlocks, and I am not asking to wear board shorts & a tank top to work. But it would be nice to be able to wear a shirt without a collar, and skip the tie.

And failing that, I guess I wouldn’t mind the women-folk suffering the same as I do against the regulations :-).

Peace.

Tags: women