Today being payday, I finally bought some of the CDs I've been craving:

• Beck, "Guero" (a solid Beck at his Beck-iest)
  
• The Decemberists, "Picaresque" (rockin'!)
  
• Louis XIV, "The Best Little Secrets Are Kept" (exactly what I expected!)

As per usual, there were several others that I wanted but when I got to the music store I completely forgot what they were. I should keep a list or something. • 4:19 PM 0 comments

What kind of dreams do I have?

Glad you asked! Strange ones.

Last night I dreamt that I was going to take a practice run, my last run before the Bridge to Bridge 5K this weekend. I started out running, in slow motion (of course) and found myself recreating the actual B2B route. As I got near the Memorial Colliseum / Rose Quarter Arena, I got worried about dodging traffic (normally they close off the streets during the real race, but this was a practice run. So I was careful to stay on the grass. I couldn't remember the actual route but I figure I can make it up as I go.

Pipe down! I know, I know, this is all normal. I'm getting to the weird part. Sheesh.

I spot, ahead of me, a pile of boulders as large as houses, piled up on the side of the street. I worry about running around them and still avoiding cars, so I slow down even more (barely moving now). I notice that the road isn't entirely level, and some of the boulders are shifting, which makes it even trickier to manuver around them. And, sure enough, one of the boulders shifts enough that now it's rolling straight towards me. Luckily I'm nimble enough to get out of the way, but now, all the boulders are rolling down the street my way and it's suddenly like that scene in "The Empire Strikes Back" where Han is flying around the asteroids. Even the boulders look familiar now. Except I'm still running in the street, and to my right is the Memorial Colliseum and off to my left is the Steel Bridge.

I'm finally pulling even with the pile of rocks, and I notice an overturned dump truck that obviously was carrying the load of boulders only the truck seems like it's been smashed. Then I almost get pelted by a rock from the sky! After a second or two, another one comes flying down. I look up, and I see a third one arcing towards me from the river. It smashes into the pavement. A fourth one (I told you I was running really really slow, right?) slams into the side of the Colliseum. It's all I can do to avoid them but I manage.

I decide to turn towards the river and run across the Steel Bridge. And... I'm there (must have sped up) but I'm having to climb up into the superstructure of the bridge to avoid traffic. And down by the docks I can hear a maniaical laughing, and a periodic fffTHOOMB! noise like... well, like giant boulders being shot into the sky from a tube. I look down from the bridge superstructure and see a guy in a booth, kicked back, feet up, laughing crazily, and repeatedly hitting a big red button. For every button he pushes, another boulder goes arcing towards the Rose Quarter.

I'm dodging through the metal beams trying to keep a good pace, but I have to crouch down and it's hurting my time. I pull even with another guy running along, and I point out the laughing man in the booth down below me. The runner turns to me and says...

And then I wake up. • 6:31 AM 0 comments

Say an author in our great country, the US of A, writes a book about the "fact" that the color "green" doesn't exist. Not only doesn't it exist as a color in the spectrum of visible light, he insists, all the things that we assume are green, like grass, or frogs, simply don't exist at all. The book is a complete denial of everything and anything "green". The author presents a lot of data from selected sources, wraps it all in tons of anecdotes, writes in a breezy, chatty manner. It's an entertaining read and some folk reading it take it as humor. But there are some readers who take it seriously.

Sales of the book start taking off, it starts appearing on best-seller lists, which the serious "non-greenians" point to as further validating their viewpoint. "See," they say, "there's been a supression of this knowledge for years. People are hungry for the truth about this so-called 'color', 'green'."

Because the non-greenians are becoming more popular, the media, always alert for entertaining controversies, takes notice. Several of the cable news channels book the author on their shows. Because this this ostensibly a science-related issue, they don't book the author on the fluff talk shows, and they don't simply interview him. No, see, there's a dispute here over the existence of the color green; so they need to be balanced. They need to give the pro-green folks equal time. After all, the journalists don't want to appear to be biased, and they don't want to risk the ire of the "non-greenians". Or, rather, they want to fan the ire of the non-greenians just enough to get them to watch. After that, they don't care.

And, in fact, during his appearances, the author of the book points out that "non-greenian" is a derrogatory term. The people prefer to call themselves "truthians", and what they practice is "truthful physics". They don't deny that others may claim there is this thing they call "green" but it simply isn't so. The evidence is against them. The folks that are disputing his truthful physics haven't even read his book! And, besides, all he's after is a honest debate on the merits of his research. What could be more scientific than that? His critics attack him and ignore all the research he's put into his study.

And so his critics are forced into defending themselves as being "open-minded" and of following proper scientific method, and generally presenting their "evidence" of something that, up until this author trotted out his "facts", everyone simply assumed. Nobody questioned the existence of the color green, and if someone had raised that thought in a friendly discussion, most would have laughed and not given it any further thought. But because someone has written a book, and others have seen fit to publish the book, and the idea that others have purchased the book, and even others behind the scenes at major national news organizations have seen fit to not only give the author a public forum for his views but to have others on to "debate" him... Well, it seems impossible that all this would have happened if there wasn't at least some merit to his idea, right?

It doesn't matter who you put up against the "truth physicist" -- an artist, a physicist, a cognitive psychologist, Hell, a child or an average Joe off the street. No one is able to argue against someone who calmly, reasonably, backed by public opinion and the power of authority granted by having passed through the various media filters in the publishing and television industries.

And if anyone dares to suggest that the idea is simply outrageous, that there's no merit to the idea, that it doesn't even bear repeating, well, that person can easily be accused of being closed-minded, that everyone is entitled to an opinion. The critic can easily be tarred with the ad hominem brush and dismissed.

It seems that there is no frame, no argument, that can counter an outrageous idea that's presented with all the trappings of reasonable discussion. And the problem is that it is so very easy to give any idea those trappings. Our national media has become quite comfortable with the idea of false balance; get one person for, one person against, and let them have at each other. May the best idea win. Takes all the heat off the "journalists" -- after all, they're just giving people what they want. Let the people decide. It's a compelling idea; consider it reality by consensus, arrived at via a process of elevation of selected concepts above the background noise.

Never mind that not all ideas are equal. Never mind that you can't "balance" a truth with a lie. Never mind that the ones who complain the loudest about not getting a fair hearing are the ones who most abuse the system.

Something's terribly wrong and not only will most people not acknowledge it, but, admit it:

at some point in reading this post you actually considered, even if for a moment, even if fleetingly, even if as a fancy, the idea that green doesn't exist.

Didn't you? Maybe not all of you but I'll bet there were more than a few.

Not all ideas have merit. You can't balance a true statement with a lie. Rational thinking is hard but it's very much worth it. • 6:20 PM 2 comments

Damn.

Sean and John, together in Austin, TX.

Wish I could have been there. :( • 2:00 PM

I should blog something.

...but I'm just so apathetic today. Today, this week, this month, this year, this decade.

Meh • 1:14 PM

For the longest time (which roughly corresponds to at least the entire time I've lived there) I haven't been able to get DSL at my apartment. Qworst, which is in charge of the telephone wires in my neighborhood in accordance with their government-mandated monopoly (how do you break up a national monopoly? Why, you break it up into slightly-smaller but still predatory regional monopolies, of course, you silly rhetorical questioner!) has long offered the paradoxical answer of "Yes, but, no" to the question: "Can I, in fact, get DSL at my address?"

The "Yes" part of the answer means, in corporate-monopolistic-style verbiage, "Yes, it's available in our list of options in that area!" but the "but, no" part of the answer means "but, because we'd have to spend money to replace all the crappy decades-old equipment in that area, we wouldn't make any money on it until there's enough suckers customers to pay us to install it, so all these stupid laws mean that we can't actually sell it to you. Yet."

The advantages of DSL over what I've had to settle for (Comcast cable modem broadband) is that, with a DSL line, I can have a dedicated, all-my-own IP address on the internets, and run a server out of my house. With a dedicated IP address I can have a domain pointed at the IP address, so that people wouldn't have to remember a string of numbers that might change at any moment. Also, most companies that offer DSL don't have restrictive terms of service like "If you run a server of any kind (email, ftp, porn, you know) we're going to sue you and throw you into Gitmo as a terrorist and confiscate all your pretty shiny computers and spit on your friends and family and rape your pets and make fun of your personal consumer electronic device choices", like, oh, say, Comcast does.

It's so screwed. Comcast has faster download speeds, and decent upload speeds, but Cthulhu-forbid that you actually, you know, make use of those speeds. So, even though DSL is technically slower, it's less-encumbered by restrictions of the legalistic type. Depending on where you buy your DSL service from, of course.

Here's the problem: even though I could go to any of a number of places to buy DSL service (I'm thinking of Speakeasy, myself, but there's lots of others and I haven't decided yet)... it all comes in over your phone line.

And, therefore, because DSL comes into your house over phone lines... that means that, essentially, I have to deal with the local telephony monopoly at some point in the transaction.

Y'all may remember my epic battle with the local phone monopoly last year.

I did win that battle, though. Basically. It was a tactical victory. I had to give up my phone number but I got out of a two-year contract without having to pay any early-cancelation fees. And, of course, I got Qwest in trouble with as many as four different consumer-protection agencies. And I got to own the sexiest phone ever (even though it's very high maintenance and even (shhhh! don't read this too loud!) a bit... um... jealous, noIamnotkidding).

So the idea of dealing with them again, even through a proxy... well, let's just say that my cockles remain cold. Unwarmed, even.

Hmmm. Still trying to decide. • 1:12 PM 0 comments

I got a spam email from "WhereChristiansMeet", with the subject line "Meet Singles With Christian Principles". Hmmm. Funny thing for an atheist to get, but beyond that, it sparked a snark in me.

I mentioned the email to a friend, along with my feelings: "Must... not... unleash... snark... soooooo... difficult..."

She replied, "why bother? It's just spam."

But the temptation was too great. "OK," I said, "Just one; a grammar snark. Do they mean to suggest that I can meet singles who practice Christian principles? Or do they mean that I can meet singles by using Christian principles? C'mon, people, English isn't that hard! Subject-Verb-Object. It's easy-peasy."

"Hmm..." she said, "is there a difference?"

"Sure. One's about praying. And one's about preying."

Thanks, folks! I'll be here all week! Try the salmon!"

PS: Yes, this was an actual conversation. • 9:53 AM 1 comments

I've spent the past half-week fighting off that stupid cold virus that's been beating up my co-workers and friends ("that's a pretty big virus") and it's taking its toll.

My days have consisted of work and sleep, with intermittent periods of eating and the occassional email exchange with friends. Lots and lots of sleeping. In fact, I've spent more time asleep since Sunday than I have at work. No, I'm not sleeping at work, although a couple of floors down in the building where I work is a little room with a cot and an alarm clock that's expressly there for the purpose of taking a quick nap at work if necessary (I love the county sometimes).

I haven't been running, either, because running lowers the immune system or something and I want to fight this crappy giant cold virus (I picture it being much like a red-orange-yellow beach ball, with spikes) so I can get back to running and breathing and enjoying things like coherent thought and not blowing my nose and such.

The world takes advantage of my confused, doped-up-on-over-the-counter-medication state by dangling things that might relieve this misery a tiny bit and then sliming it in gelatinous oozing confusion. I wanted some soup for lunch. Soup. Simple hot liquid with something tasty in it. Kinda hard to find downtown, but I walked past this sandwich place I've been meaning to try and, sure enough, on a little sandwich (ha-ha) board out on the sidewalk they list their "specials":

Grilled: Roast Beef, cheddar, roasted red pepper, red onions, blah, blah, I'm losing focus here... Soup: Black Bean

Coolio! Soup and a sandwich. I walk in. To my doom.

I see that they have two"soup and sandwich" items on the menu: both of them have a 12 oz. soup, but one is a "half" and one is a "whole". Obvious first question: How big is a half? I ask the counter girl that, and she pauses.

"Uh... well" she hems and haws, making vague size motions with her hands "it's, uh, half of a whole sandwich..."

A bespectacled boy with a blonde soul patch pokes his head out from behind an oak wall, holding a loaf of bread in his hands, muttering something that may have seemed, to him and the counter girl, to be an answer to my question. Already confused, I decide to order a "whole" and hope I don't get a "whole" loaf of bread. I guess I could save it for dinner. They'd better not charge me more than the menu's stated price of $8.25, though.

"OK, I'll take your roast beef and black bean special." I state this as decisively as the phlegm in my throat allows.

Again, counter girl looks lost. "Um... well, you'll have to" she hands me a little clipboard with a chart full of options on it "fill this out."

"I can't just order the special?"

"You can customize it however you want." She replies. I step aside to study my options, getting a bit frustrated.

Roast Beef wasn't even an option on the menu. A sign hanging over the register explains that if I want Roast Beef or Pastrami that I'll have to write it in, and apologizes for the menus being confusing. Yay. Some validation. Yes, yes, I am confused.

I manage to fill out their devilish form with only a couple of mistakes. I accidentally checked an option that made the counter girl think I wanted the "Kid's brown bag" special, when instead I wanted the "whole sandwich and soup" special. I also marked "Orange" on one part and "apple" on another for my choice of fruit, but I did that on purpose to highlight how confusing the menu was. Either I was too subtle or not subtle enough because it went right over countergirl's head.

I probably won't go back, even though the soup was pretty good. The sandwich was average and the oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookie was kinda thin. And, no, I didn't get a whole loaf sandwich, either, so the value... not so good.

I just wanted some soup, dammit. • 12:34 PM 0 comments

The results are in for the 2005 Shamrock Run and... well... I knew I wasn't exactly a speed demon. I did, however, better my time from last year, so it's all good.

My friends did well, also -- those who ran, at any rate. Even the sick ones. But not all who were there, ran. And not all who were expected to show up... showed up. Hmmm. • 10:31 AM 0 comments

Curse you, KEXP! Curse you, morning DJ John in the Morning!

John (in the Morning) just played The Go Go's this morning and now I'm gonna have "Vacation" (and Belinda Carlisle in a swimsuit) running through my head all day!

...and as if that's not enough, clicking around on The Go Go's official site, I stumbled across the all-male Go Go's tribute band We Got The Meat, headquartered (where else?) in my hometown Portlandia, Oregonia. • 6:35 AM 1 comments

I've become obsessed with the non-food content of my food.

It started when I decided, earlier this week, to keep track of the protein, fat, and carbohydrates in my diet. The very first thing I looked at was my delicious Cliff Bars. See? It says right there that they are Certified Organic and therefore horribly healthy.

OK, so one serving is one bar; 68 grams. (I'm looking at the Crunchy Peanut Butter bar; others are similar). Total protein = 12 grams. Total fat = 6 grams. Total carbs = 40 grams.

That only adds up to 58 grams.

So what is the remaining 10 grams? It's non-food. Vitamins and minerals? There can't be ten fucking grams of vitamins and minerals; I don't care how healthy those Cliff Bars are.

I guess the "sodium" and potassium account for just under another half-gram. Part of it could be water, I guess, although water isn't listed as an ingredient, and if it accounted for almost 15% of the weight of the bar you'd think it would be listed. So just what is it, anyway?

...do I really want to know?

What's funny to me is that the supposedly-healthy-and-organic Cliff Bar has waaaaaaay more of the non-food stuff than does, say, a serving of Doritos or a Hershey's Special Dark bar (only about 1-2 grams unaccounted for on both of those).

Food is scary. I'm going to stop looking so close now. • 12:14 AM 4 comments

It physically hurt me when I heard a Radiohead song ("There, there" from "Hail To The Thief") playing over the loudspeakers at Rite-Aid -- as Muzak!

Ow.

Make it stop.

Make it stop! • 12:09 AM 3 comments

More wisdom from Harvey Danger:

drive across the country, tell your story walking. no one's keeping you captive in the town that let you down (so sorry). blame it on the television, blame it on the company; don't blame it on the fundamental fact that no one owes you something. "i've come about my share, i only want what's fair. anyone who knows me knows that i'm not greedy. like everybody else, i wanna pay my dues. (i only want someone to tell me who to make the check out to.)"

My emphasis added... • 11:29 PM 1 comments

Denise is a) a coworker who is both b) hot, and c) married. I would add d) is licensed for concealed carry (as a consequence of her job), if my sense of ethics hadn't already stopped at a) (principle of don't shit where you eat) and c) (principle of never rub another man's rhubarb), but, whatever. It's still fun to flirt now and then.

A week or two ago I had been working on her computer and spotted a Luna CD on top of her stack (that sounds dirty but you know what I meant). The Bestest Radio Station In The World, KEXP, had been playing Luna that day, and I vaguely recalled that they had had a show at the Aladdin Theater recently. I asked her about it, we got to talking about music, and she offered to let me borrow it. She said it was mellow but good. I'm OK with mellow sometimes.

I dropped it off again after the weekend, having ripped it. We chatted some more about music, and she told me about missing the Luna show recently, but reminisced about past bands she'd liked. Because I was also wearing my shirt from the Shamrock Run, I found out she's a runner, too. We laughed about the butt rockers at the race.

It was cool to share music, and I know I've got some eclectic, indie-pop tastes. I figured I'd share some of my music with her, try to figure out from what she listens to what else she'd like. I didn't want to be a taker; I wanted to be a giver, too. Well, and I wanted to show how cool I was by my musical tastes...

Today, she grabbed me and asked me to stop by. Some question about something or other. Then she apologized for not bringing in another Luna CD. I told her that was OK, and then we started talking about music again. She told me that if I liked Luna, I'd like Catherine Wheel (warning! Flash site with music on main page!), too. She dove into her stack of CDs and handed me one. Looked interesting. Naked people on the cover is a good sign.

I was digging in my brain, trying to think of some odd or unusual music that I had. I took a guess: "Hey, do you like Radiohead?"

Silly me. All girls of a certain age like Radiohead. And if they don't, well, then I'm not interested. But about Denise, I needn't have worried.

She literally gasped and clutched her chest (interesting reaction, that) and laughed. "Are you kidding me? They're my top favorite band! Well..." she stopped to consider, did a mental check, "...definitely in the top three."

I started to tell her I had some imports that were kind of rare in the US, when she twisted and tore through her stack of CDs again. She pulled out a jewel case with homemade, plain black text on white paper, homemade labels.

The cover read:

Radiohead
06.23.01
The Gorge
George, Washington

A bootleg.

I was topped again. Sure, I had some bootleg Radiohead, from Coachella last year. Also Pixies and Beck from that same festival. But, dammit, it would be a "me, too" moment. Curse you, Denise, I silently cursed in her general direction, you win again. I shook my tiny mental fist at her, even as I exulted in obtaining even more esoteric Radiohead recordings. I now yearned to rush home, rip the CD and listen to it several times over. The plain white label screamed at me; the jewel case burned in my hands. I turned it over in my hands and read the set list. Only one song on there that I hadn't heard before but of course I would listen to it over and over again anyway.

Meanwhile, Denise was telling me the story of her and her then-boyfriend borrowing someone's VW van to drive up to George, Washington to see this very concert. Blah, blah, the van broke down, yadda, yadda, he had to go off to get some parts to fix it, whatever, yeah, yeah. The only funny part is how, when telling me that her boyfriend figured that they'd never make the concert in time and suggested that they bag it and go home, Denise's eyes burned when re-creating the intensity with which she had told her boyfriend in terms that implied no uncertainty, that, yes, in fact, they were going to get to that concert and they would be on time. I laughed at her silly then-boyfriend, for even bringing that up. I groked. Oh, yeah. I groked.

I love new music. I also ripped the Catherine Wheel CD she gave me, and on my lunch break, earlier, I had picked up LCD Soundsystem and The Wedding Present's newest. But I already know the Radiohead bootleg is going to be in constant rotation for at least two days. • 9:11 PM 2 comments

I was at work, and trying to track down a user, Diana, who had reported a problem a couple of days ago. Another tech had been working on the user's computer problem and had tried to call and email the user (no, the problem wasn't related to email) and Diana had not called back. So the other tech had asked me to check on Diana, since I was in the building anyway.

A walk around the office on the floor where Diana worked showed that all the cubicles were empty. Everyone was gone. Which would normally only happen if they were in a meeting.

I walked back to their meeting area just to check, and sure enough, walked right into the middle of their meeting. All eyes, including their supervisors, turned to me. I hadn't ever met their supervisor, Lori, before, but everyone else recognized me for fixing their computers and seeing me around the building.

"Hi, I'm Brian, from Computer Support?" I offered, in my normal-but-quiet voice. "I'm here to talk to Diana?" I felt a bit embarrassed for interrupting. Diana stood up and separated herself from the group, walked over to me.

"Are you still having a problem?" I asked, quietly but still loud enough for the everyone else to hear, unfortunately. I briefly wondered if I should step outside the room, but a computer problem didn't seem like a big deal.

They had stayed quiet after I came in. As I spoke, Lori's face registered extreme shock; she acted like she hadn't believed what she had just heard. I was surprised enough that I barely caught Diana's response, that the problem had resolved itself.

I looked back at Lori, who now looked embarrassed herself. The rest of the group was laughing, that uncomfortable laugh of not-quite-getting-the-joke.

Everyone was waiting for me to say something, again. Diana looked confused. I started out, again, "I'm with Computer Support. Diana had called in a problem..."

"Oh!" Lori showed relief. "Do you know, I thought I'd heard you say,

I'm from Peer Support, do you have a problem?"

The room erupted in laughter. I blushed, realizing that the uncomfortable laughter had been at me. I mumbled something about how I tend to mumble, and hurriedly left the room.

Once outside, I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. • 8:40 PM 0 comments

Cool article (found it thought iPodLounge) on hacking a full-sized 3.5" hard drive to work with a regular iPod.

My favoritest line:

Desoldering all 44 pins would be a chore, so I took the easy route and just ripped through the PCB with a Dremel cutting wheel.

Yeah. Dremels are cool. • 6:55 AM 0 comments

This just might be the silliest accessory for an iPod shuffle ever.



...or the cleverest. I'm not sure which. • 6:23 AM 0 comments

So, pouring over my site statistics lately. There was a huge, atypical surge in traffic on March 1st, and I've been trying to figure out what caused it. I mean, I normally see around 10,000 hits for the month since around October last year, but so far for March I've got over 12,000 as of midnight last night (when the site stats update), and over 4500 of them came on one day.

In looking over all the stats that webalizer is providing, I can trace the huge spike to my posting about Jef Raskin's passing over that weekend. Come Monday, a site called "Web Pro News" found my site and included my small posting along with several others as a tribute. Web Pro News was the referrer for 4400 of those hits, linking to me that day. Interesting. And now I link back to Mr. Rich Ord, completing the circle.

I'll bet that I don't generate as much traffic for him as he generated for me... I'm OK with asymmetry, though. • 11:51 AM 1 comments

OK, so I'm thinking that I want to be slightly more structured in how I run. I've got goals, dammit. I want to increase my mileage and get faster. I'd also like to trim a few pounds. But I don't want to push myself so hard I hurt myself.

Runner's World often talks about some rules of thumb to guide increases in mileage and speed. They suggest not increasing miles per week more than 10-12%; likewise, increasing speed more than 1-3% per week is a bad idea. And since I'm not an "elite" runner, I'd like to build in some plateaus every couple of weeks just to be extra safe.

Since I'm basically a 10:00 pace guy, and I ran 12-15 miles per week for the past couple of weeks, I'll use those numbers as the starting point. Running the numbers, then, by the end of 12 weeks, with 4 of them being plateaus, I should be able to safely be an 8:30 pace, running 25 miles per week.

That's assuming that I'm biomechanically able to do that, of course.

I picture the 8:30/25mpw Brian as being somehow slimmer and sexier. Or maybe that's just a good motivating image. Not that I'm not already pretty damn sexy.

So, to that end, I'm going to include hill intervals once per week, and some basic speed intervals once per week. And I'm going to increase my long run every other week by 10%. I'll use my 5K time as the speed benchmark. Well, I'll use my time on the Figure eight loop around the Esplanade as the benchmark. I'll alternate weeks for the speed and distance plateaus.

This week my benchmarks are:

• Long run: 5 miles @ 10:00 pace
  
• Speed (F8EL): 35:00

Then, next week I should be at:

• Long run: 5 miles @ 10:00 pace (no change)
  
• Speed (F8EL): 34:18

• 6:37 AM 1 comments

Walked in to my favorite restaurant, expecting to see Jenn, my favorite waitress as I sat myself in my favorite booth. I'm nothing if not a creature of habit at times.

Only... something was up. There was a new woman behind the bar, a new waitress tending to the tables, and Jenn was nowhere... wait. There she was, back in the kitchen. Brown hair tied back as usual, thin body hiding behind an apron as usual, but leaning against the wall instead of bustling among the patrons, her eyes were on the new waitress.

I sat down, and it was a longer wait than normal for the busgirl to bring over my favorite order of salsa (hot!) Yes, something was definitely up.

The waitress, the new one, finally came over and took my order. As I watched her leave, I made accidental eye contact with Jenn, over chatting to the bartender. She smiled and waved, then walked over.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," I answered back. "What's up?"

"Nothin', been pretty slow," she said. She leaned against a table next to my booth. If she didn't look at least partially like she was still working, I would have invited her to sit down.

"I wanted to let you know that tomorrow is my last day here." Spoken slowly.

"Oh? Moving on to bigger and better things?" I asked with a hopeful smile.

"Nah. Well, kinda. I'm going to Brazil and Chile."

"Oh! That's cool." I thought a moment. "Like with the Peace Corps?"

She laughed. "No. No way! I couldn't afford to pay my bills for 2 years. Man, if they didn't make it a two year commitment I'd totally do that. Have you ever thought of Peace Corps?"

"I've thought about it." I couldn't tell if she thought I was lying. I have thought about the Peace Corps. I just haven't thought of, y'know, joining the Peace Corps.

"Yeah," she continued, "it's that two year thing." She pushed off the table. "Well, I just didn't want you to wonder where 'that girl' went off to!" She turned to walk away.

"Hey, do you have email?" I asked her.

"Yeah!" She stopped, turned back, smiled briefly and made a 'writing something' movement with her hands.

"Do they have email in Brazil?" I teased. "Or is it all about the nude beaches?" We both laughed as I handed her a pen. She tore off some scratch paper from her order pad, ripped it in half and gave half to me.

She mumbled, "Yeah, I'll totally add you to my list." Oh. She's got 'a list' already? Oh, well.

She looked off, up and to her right, and murmured, "You're the nicest Brian I know." I raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, I've had a lot of trouble with Brians," she said elliptically, pretending that that was sufficient explanation. And maybe it was. I thought of all the Jennifers I've known over the years. Of all the girls I've dated, I've dated more Jennifers than any other single name. In fact there was a time when I would refer to them by number; the tally reached 5 before I grew tired of that particular inside joke. I thought it was funny that others, like Jenn, would have strings of particular names in their past.

Is that just a case of people assigning a pattern to what's likely a random occurrence? Or do we seek out something, maybe unconsciously, without admitting it to ourselves? I know that all the Jennifers I've known over the years have had only two obvious things in common, their name and their gender. Beyond that, they were all different, unique and individual as snowflakes.

And another close encounter ends in another Jennifer walking away. • 8:57 PM 0 comments

Ran the 5K Shamrock Run today. I arrived a bit late and had to settle for the back of the pack.

I heard the announcer say that there were 10,001 participants, the first time they had broken that number in the 20 years or so that they've been having this particular race. I wonder if they only mentioned that because a) Adidas is the major sponsor of the Shamrock Run, and b) Nike's Run Hit Wonder, a one-year-old race, limited themselves to 10,000 participants and sold out? Naaaah... couldn't be competition there.

But since there were thousands of people running today, and I'm not, y'know, an elite runner in the first place, I didn't stress too much. I had a good time, and the long hill from SE Burnside up Broadway to (practically) Salem almost did me in. I did, in fact, beat the beer. Or, I should say, the guy in the giant full-body Guinness costume. Or, I should say, at least one of them (there were two this year). Yay! I beat the beer!

When the official results are posted, I'll update my trophy page for the 2005 season. But, remember, it took me at least two minutes and twenty-six seconds just to reach the start line... there were so many people!

Next up: the Bridge to Bridge on April 3rd. I'm going to try to convince other members of Team Saponified to run the 10K with me... • 8:29 PM 0 comments

I just Googled myself. Just 'cause. I and my friends were talking about it a week or two ago.

Anyway, turns out that a link to the real me is right there on the first page of hits -- for my political writing.

Yeah. I'm bored tonight. • 9:22 PM 0 comments

Incidentally, I posted some new pictures over in my gallery.

Like these cool pictures of the Portland waterfront.

Sorry, no new Smacky pictures. Yet. • 7:57 PM 1 comments

I feel guilty when I'm getting paid $30/hour to "clean up" a Windows PC. I feel guilty because I know I'm going to take several hours pretending I can "clean it up" before I finally get to the point where I bag it and just wipe it clean and start from scratch.

I feel even more guilty when I find out that it's running Windows ME, which is shit even when compared to other Windows versions. It's shittier than shit. It's the shit that shit would shit out if shit could shit. Goddamn, Windows v1.0 would look at WinME and say, "You are shit." Hell, DOS 6 would think WinME was, yeah, shit.

I've now spent three fucking hours and, yeah, I'm at that point. But I'm waiting for that one last spy-ware cleaning program to finish running, even though the little blue bar is only at 10% and hasn't moved in five minutes. I think I'm going to take myself off the clock while this thing finishes running. • 6:06 PM 2 comments

The SXSW folk have added another 20 songs (about 85 MB) to their freebies... • 6:22 AM 0 comments

What's that, you say? You want to hear all that great music at the SXSW music festival, but want to avoid going to Texas because it's a horrible horrible place akin to the most hellish version of Hell-on-Earth imaginable?

I sympathize. And, apparently, so do the organizers of the SXSW festival. Because, according to Wired magazine, the organizers have made available more than 2.6 GB of songs from artists performing this year. For free.

And, even better, they're using the open source free-speech software BitTorrent to do it.

Only something free-as-in-both-beer-and-speech like using BitTorrent to share free music could make Texas palatable.

I'm downloading the music even as we speak. Not getting good bandwidth yet (a paltry 4-5 kilobit per second) but it will increase as I get more pieces of the file. • 6:25 PM 3 comments

Last night, I was on the phone with a friend for at least an hour after getting off work. I sat there in Tom McCall Waterfront Park, chatting away... meanwhile, apparently there was a volcano nearby doing its ash-and-steam thing.

I honestly didn't notice Mt. St. Helens being obscured under a cloud on an otherwise beautiful spring evening until I went for my run along the waterfront. As I ran west across the Hawthorne Bridge, I noticed several different camera crews from local stations shooting footage of the mountain. Isn't it great that I can go running on a day when nature is erupting? I love living in the Pacific Northwest.

I did a bit longer loop than normal; I did a figure-eight, crossing over the Morrison Bridge twice, which gives me about 3.5 miles total. I'll run again Thursday night, then probably won't run for the rest of the week until Sunday, which is the Shamrock Run. Might hit the gym on Friday or Saturday for some weights. Might not. Just playing it by ear now. • 6:31 AM 2 comments

Lyric of the morning:

"When you like something, it's an opinion,
When I like something, it's a manifesto.
Pomposity is when you always think you're right,
Arrogance is when you know."
          --Harvey Danger, "Pike Street/Park Slope"

...which I only mention because apparently the boys have completed recording their next album, but have yet to find a label to release it through.

In other news, the fantabulous Long Winters are playing a show (along with a bunch of other bands) on Friday, March 18... in Austin, TX. Dammit. • 7:12 AM 0 comments

If you notice broken pictures back in the archives, just know that I'm rearranging stuff on the server. Sorry. • 8:51 AM 3 comments

Ran again this morning. Just over 2 miles. Didn't keep track of my time, wanted a nice easy run to close out the week. And I got it. Yay.

Next week I'm going to do my longer run earlier in the week, then hit the gym with no actual running Thursday and possibly Saturday, to get ready for the Shamrock Run.

I can't remember if I talked about this on the blog already but I'm not training for a good time in the Shamrock Run 5K. It's a bit silly to do that since there's so many people that enter that race, I'd just be fighting the crowds. It'll take me 5 minutes just to cross the starting line, so what's the point? I'm just going to go and have a good time, and then focus on a good time in the next race in April, which I believe is the Bridge-to-Bridge. I might even try the 10K on the B2B... maaaaaaybe. • 12:58 PM 0 comments

I meant to post this yesterday. I ran to work for the first time in months and did pretty good. Not including warm-up and cool-down I covered ~5.4 miles in around 55:30. I had to stop a couple of times, briefly, for no more than about 10-20 steps before starting to run again. I didn't push my pace hard, since I had so far to cover. It felt pretty good, although I was a bit wheezy after the run.

I was worried it would be too cold but I warmed up quickly. Wore my trusty Brooks Adrenaline GT5s, shorts, and a short-sleeve singlet and long-sleeved tech shirt over it.

Was going to listen to Radiohead but Cake came up randomly (Motorcade of Generosity followed by Prolonging the Magic) and it had been a long time since I'd heard them while exercising that I let the Shuffle, um, not shuffle.

I'm worried in a minor key about my right heel; it's a bit sore and the non-medical diagnosis of my athletic friends is that it sounds like plantar fasciitis. I'm starting to stretch that area more to see if that helps. My friends sent me a link but it's way too medical-technical; I found some articles from a layman's perspective. • 9:23 PM 0 comments

The Return of Friday Night Cat Blogging!

...in honor of Smacky's return home.


Click image to go to original picture.

...and here's lots more! • 5:57 PM 0 comments

Smacky is home!

I got a call around 3:00 PM today. It was a guy, Rob, and he said he'd seen a strange cat hanging around in his backyard, and it might be Smacky. Rob had seen my posters around the neighborhood. Rob lived only a block or two away from my house. I got his address and said I'd be there as soon as I could.

I took off work early, sent an email to my boss telling him I had a personal matter to take care of. The bus was delayed by the bridge going up! Seemed to take forever to get home.

I stopped at my apartment and got some of Smacky's food, some of his favorite treats, and, yes, one of my old socks. I also grabbed his carrying case.

Got to Rob's apartment. Rob was in his 20s, thin. Smoking. He let me in. I was probably a bit rude as I walked through the house to the back. But I wasn't thinking. I was hopeful but not too hopeful.

In the backyard, which wasn't much more than a strip of land behind the place, Rob tried to point out Smacky. Hard to see an all-black cat in the shadows. But I finally spotted him; he was hiding under some bushes running along the top of a ledge between two neighboring yards.

I called Smacky's name and saw the little black head perk up and look my way. Called it again, and the cat started grooming himself. I got closer, as close as the fence in Rob's backyard would let me get, and called Smacky and pulled out some of his treats. By this time, I was sure it was Smacky. He got up and carefully walked along the top of the ledge, stopping once or twice to look at me as if to say, "Is that really you? Where have you been?"

I held my hand out with the treats, and Smacky about attacked them, nipping my hand once or twice in his effort to swallow them whole. I reached out, petted him, and tried to grab him, but Smacky was way ahead of me. By this time he'd finished the treats, and he looked up at me then ran up my outstretched arm and jumped onto my shoulders. He started purring and rubbing his head on my chin. I guess he was ready to come home.

I carried him back towards the house and where I had left his carrying case. Had a struggle getting him in there, until I dumped the rest of his treats inside.

I thanked Rob very much. "I'm really grateful, and can I, I don't know, buy you a six-pack or something?"

"No, man, it's OK, I don't drink..." Rob seemed genuinely glad. "I've got cats, too."

I thanked him several more times and left. Rob's girlfriend was just coming back and she asked me if that was my cat and I explained that it was, and thanked her some more.

Once home, I let Smacky out. I wanted to beat him for being gone so long but knew that would only confuse him.

He looks fine. The sutures for his operation seem OK, and he doesn't appear to have any new scars. He's a bit thinner and lighter than he used to be but that's normal. He ate a bunch of food and drank some water. He won't leave me alone -- and that's OK. He did have a scrap of white fur caught in one of his claws. Definitely not his fur. I guess he won that one; even though his nails are trimmed down. Right now he's sleeping across my shoulders and purring up a storm.

I was so worried. I'm so glad to have him home again. • 4:16 PM 5 comments

Oh, and the bad news I referred to earlier?

It was silly bad news: my favorite running shoe company, Brooks, was "acquired" by Russell, maker of crap athletic gear. Bleh.

I hope they just leave Brooks alone because their shoes are the bestest. • 7:54 PM 0 comments

I was going to post more bad news but that can wait.

Three different people today told me I looked great.

Well, four people... if you count the dental hygienist saying "You take great x-rays!" But as I told her, she did all the work; I just sat there with my teeth clenched on cardboard.

That feels pretty good. I mean, the people telling me I look great. Not the x-rays, so much. • 3:46 PM 0 comments

Still no sign of Smacky.

I put up about 20 flyers all over my neighborhood. I even put them up in the grocery store, the mini-mart, and the coffee shop. If I hadn't got such a late start I would have gone to the cat hospital and the vet and put up flyers there, too.

Tomorrow I should call the Humane Society and other cat shelters and see if they've got him.

Poor Smacky. I feel so bad, like I've let him down. • 9:53 PM 2 comments