The All-Thing

All stick and no carrot, since ought-three.




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Wed, 29 Oct 2003

Korea Preparations

Frantically running around trying to assemble everything I need for this trip. I have to leave my car at work (another Somerville fucking double-street-sweeping week ahead), take the bus back home tonight, then take a cab to the airport at 4:30am tomorrow morning, so I basically have to get everything in my life organized NOW while I still have a car.

Bought Quicksilver. I know it's too early for a paperback, but Jesus Christ, does the thing have to weigh ten pounds and fucking take up more space than my laptop? I was really tempted to get some other paperback book instead, but nothing really caught my eye and I wasn't willing to gamble too much with eighteen or whatever hours of flying ahead of me. Last time I accidentally bought a book I had already read and was forced to spend the entire flight thinking, which always leaves me in a hyper-depressed state.

Bought lots of coffee and red Twizzlers to trade with the natives for food and shelter.

(Side note: despite it being pretty crappy weather outside, the view from my office window reached its peak of autumnal beauty today and I gaze at it contentedly as I ponder the next mot juste.)

Got a call from security because I parked my car on the grass. I was like, "Bitch please. If you hadn't cordoned off a huge section for a 'training exercise', whatever the fuck that is, I wouldn't have had to park on that nasty-ass mud patch you arbitrarily decided not to pave over ten years ago which you now, in a laughably poetic turn, call 'grass'." But all that really came out was like "Oh, that's not cool? Ok, I'll move it." So I drove and bought Quicksilver.

Set up my xscreensaver with jcreed's phosphor trick to annoy my blog-hating officemate in my absence.

And with that, I think I am prepared.

Posted at 16:06 | /travel | 1 comment | permalink

Welcome to Pittsburgh

Here's a story a friend of mine told me about his only visit to Pittsburgh:

Some friends and I drove down to Pittsburgh in the 90's for a Dylan concert. We got to the Civic Arena, took our seats, and the concert started. I was really getting into it and at around the fourth song of the first set I took out my pack of cigarettes and lit one.

All of a sudden someone taps me on the shoulder and it's the guy behind me, wearing a shirt that says Fire Marshal on it. He says, "Alright buddy, that's it. I told you once before. You're out of here!" and he grabs me by the shoulder and starts pulling me towards the exit.

I say, "Look, you've got the wrong guy. You didn't talk to me before. I'm not even really a smoker. I'll gladly give you this entire pack of cigarettes, just let me listen to the concert." And he says, "You're getting out of here now or I'm going to have you arrested." What could I do? I shut up. He took my ticket and dragged me out the door. I spent the rest of the concert in the parking lot.

In an era of hit-and-miss Dylan performances, that concert is apparently remembered as a particularly good one....

Posted at 11:17 | /media/music | 2 comments | permalink

Speeding Ticket Blues

Well originally I had this grand plan to contest the speeding ticket and dazzle them with my knowledge of cosine distance etc. and prove the radar wrong. I'm pretty sure I was caught in a perfunctory quota-filling operation. But now, on the verge of a two week trip abroad (plea due right before I get back), I realize that I don't really remember where on the long stretch of Rt. 125 it occurred, and I didn't even get a look at where the cop was stationed. So I don't think I can mount much of a defense other than I didn't do it, man. I could always plead not guilty and hope that he doesn't show up at the trial, but what if he does?

So I'm pleading nolo contendere and just take it in the ass from my insurance company for years to come.

I guess that after two and a half years of keeping it at 85 to and from work, one ticket ain't so bad. Pity it didn't occur when I was actually speeding. But who am I to expect any kind of correlation between crime and punishment?

Posted at 11:04 | /mortal | (leave a comment) | permalink


A banker is a fellow who lends you his umbrella when the sun is shining and wants it back the minute it begins to rain. -- Mark Twain