A new project.

I was looking back on all the pictures I've taken so far for my 365 project (362!), and I decided to keep on going through 2008. But I wanted to make it more interesting, since a blog full of pictures from me is pretty damn dull. That's when I got an idea.

Open it up to a whole pile of cool people, and put everyone's pics in one place.

So I shot out a quick email to a bunch of friends to gauge interest, and was pleasantly surprised when nine (!) of them replied. I fired up the site, got everyone* in, and we're ready to start shootin' on 1/1/2008.

Please do drop in and check out our little project, 365:2008**. It will be cool.

--EDIT--
I changed the name. 366:2008 it is!

* If you are interested in joining us, please email me. The more, the merrier.
** I'm still debating changing the name to 366:2008, since it's a leap year and one of the project's esteemed contributors was born on 2/29.

My bloody mary recipe

I just invented this recipe tonight, very loosely based on a recipe I saw on someone else's website.
In your Uptown pint glass, drop in a handful of ice and:
4 shots of V8 juice (yum!)
2 shots of vodka, 3 if you're nasty
1 teaspoon Lea & Perrin's Worcestershire sauce
4 drops of Marie Sharp's hot sauce
1 little squeeze of lemon juice
1 pinch of black pepper
Shake all this up in your handy-dandy shaker, dump it in your Uptown pint glass, toss in two Santa Barbara Olive Co. green olives, a wedge of lime, and a pickle wedge, if you are so inclined.

Enjoy.

Merry Christmas

Melba and I are in Vegas until tomorrow. Our hotel somehow does not have WiFi, but I wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas anyway.
Merry Christmas Anyway!

Christmas in Vegas is...

- Trying to figure out how to bet on football
- Trying to get a comp'd drink, fer fook's sake
- Watching a hooker get kicked out of the Golden Nugget
- Watching the finest people on earth walk by on Fremont Street
- Christmas lights?
- The delightful holiday scent of cigarette smoke
- Mullets, mullets, mullets!
- Half of Japan dumped on The Strip
- Half of the midwest dumped Downtown

IT PSA, Lesson #1

As an IT geek, I have a couple of pet peeves. Oddly enough, my cow-orkers universally share this particular peeve, so in the interest of office harmony I offer you this IT public service announcement:

Don't be a computer slob.

A user in computer distress brought us her troubled laptop today. Here's the patient:Hmm. A little grubby, but not too bad. Let's open it up and see what the problem is.
Whoa. What has she been doing, eating lunch off this thing?
Saving a few crumbs for later enjoyment?
...And that hair for later use as dental floss?
Oooo... can I please use your laptop's trackpad? I'd love to scrape month-old easy cheese out from under my fingernail later.
I can't even think of what that might be, other than utterly NASTY. And we've got to touch this disgusting thing to fix it.

IT PSA #1: If you're a slob, and you depend on other people to fix your computer, take a minute to clean up that nasty wreck before you drop it off.

Your IT geek thanks you.

V8 Tomato Juice

When I was a kid, my mom drank a lot of tomato juice. She bought those big quart-sized cans of V8, and there was always at least one in the fridge. She opened it up with a church key - one big triangle opening on one side of the lid, and a little opening on the other side for air. Ah, the memories.

I thoroughly HATED V8 juice when I was a kid. Hated the smell, was grossed out by the look, knew I hated it without even tasting it.A few months ago, I was on a flight and instead of getting the one drink I always get on an airplane (apple juice), I got this wild hair up my ass for V8 tomato juice. The flight attendant poured me a cup, accessorized with a little shot of tabasco. God DAMN that was some good stuff. Now I love it. Love me the V8 tomato juice. Love bloody marys, nice 'n spicy. Yum.

New Years resolutions

Back on January 8th, I posted a list of four resolutions for 2007:

1. Lose 2 pounds per month (I started at 200.5 pounds).
2. Get on a budget.
3. Take a standup or improv comedy class.
4. Get the show online by March 1st.

So. How did I do? In a word, thoroughly fucking craptacular.

1. Right this moment, I weigh 199 pounds. Yay me. At least I didn't gain any weight.
2. I made some progress on this in the spring, but then regressed over the summer when I moved back to LA. I've only recently been able to get back on something resembling a budget. I have the money management skills of a trust fund frat boy in Vegas.
3. Mmf. I suck.
4. Yeah, this never happened either. Total change of plans.

I've got to set some resolutions I can actually attain for 2008.

A few haikus

Holiday season
Christmas music wedged in brain
Damn Jingle Bell Rock

--

So much good food, drink
dear egg nog, I love thee so
Arteries, hardened

--

'Tis the fun season
productivity, hell no
vacation, oh yeah

--

An LA Christmas
no snow, no wind chill, no ice
don't even miss it.

Holding my ground.

I've been watching a program on HD Theater called "The Art of War - Waterloo". It's a study of the strategies used by Wellington to defeat Napoleon on the battlefield. Earlier this evening, I was victorious in a valiant battle in the living room.

Our living room is divided into two territories: the couch, and the chair. The couch is mine, the chair, Melba's. I took a nap in bed earlier in the evening, and when I woke up, I found that Melba had advanced an occupying force onto the couch. I was forced to retreat to the chair. I waited to make my move.

I didn't have to wait long. Melba made a grave tactical error; a bathroom break. I made my move, and was able to successfully retake my territory.Napoleon was a little shy when Wellington tried to take her picture.

The company holiday party.

I love the company holiday party. Not because I can show up and drink a dozen vodka tonics free for five hours, no... I love it because of the excellent people watching opportunities available. There is always at least one, if not a handful of people who unintentionally epitomize the saying "If you can't be a good example, then you'll just have to serve as a horrible warning."

Thin skinned.

Native Angelenos are not the heartiest lot. I was in the grocery store a few days ago when I started noticing that other shoppers around me were wearing thick coats, hats, scarves, and boots - serious cold weather gear. These brave souls dared to venture outside the safety and warmth of their homes on a brutally sunny FIFTY FIVE degree afternoon. Wind chill? NONE. It was perfectly calm. It was so nice, I even had the top down on my car on the way home.

I need to start taking pictures of these people for my midwestern friends to laugh at. I'm still sporting the same t-shirt and jeans I always wear, while the candy-asses around here are all bundled up like it's an arctic expedition. Not to mention how they freak out when this stuff called precipitation falls from the sky. Oi. Vey.

Crepe goodness

Melba and I watched the fine folks from Crepes Dusigne in LA make breakfast crepes at the Mar Vista farmers market last Saturday. C'est magnifique!

Election fatigue.

I don't know about you guys, but I'm already sick of hearing about Hillary and Fred and Barack and Rudy and holy sweet Jesus, we haven't even had the New Hampshire primary yet. We've still got the better part of a YEAR for this onslaught to not only continue, but ESCALATE. The only election coverage I look forward to is The Daily Show's specials on the conventions.

Can't we just vote now and get this shit over with? I know, I know - none of the "candidates" have really said anything of substance yet and their so-called platforms aren't fully developed, but does anyone really think that either of those things really matter? Even in the deep throes of the party conventions, questions are sidestepped and candidates rarely commit to a stance on anything more pressing than PB&J vs. ham & cheese. Election platforms rarely survive intact after election day; and nobody even expects them to anymore. The only question is how much spin will be spun to make the fibs seem legit to the electorate who wasn't really paying attention anyway.

I'm tired of it. Can I just check out for the next 11 months? Wake me up on November 5, 2008.

The Holidays.

Work has started to slow down, the weather has cooled a little, and chit chat about holiday plans has started in earnest. Melba and I will be having a strictly traditional, conservative, and low-key Christmas this year; we're goin' to Vegas! Melba's dad and stepmom are big fans of Vegas. We figured it'd be fun to meet up there and partake in such classic Christmas mainstays as blackjack, roulette, and betting on college football bowl games.Melba and I also picked up a Christmas tree last night. Is there anything more California than driving home with a potted Christmas tree in the back of a convertible with the top down? We got a living tree in the hopes of donating it to the city for the Million Trees LA program in January. Assuming we don't kill it by then.

This time of year always makes me sappy, and it's not even things that should make me sappy, like fond remembrances of family or fuzzy bunnies. No, I get all mushy when an ad with swells of orchestral music comes on the radio. Or seeing happy kids at the farmers market. Or when I think of how lucky I am.

I'm a lucky, lucky bastard.

Tinker.

I'm here, tinkering with a few ideas. I'll be writing tomorrow and have something tasty posted soon... 'til then, I was reminded of a memorable experience I had a few years ago with pot brownies. I really oughta work that into a good story that will fit into the category of "if I can't be a good example, I'll be a horrible warning".

Distraction.

This new TV thing is putting a serious dent in my motivation to post. Good thing Melba waited 'til after the end of November to buy it. I promise to put some real effort into a post of some substance this weekend.

Too much.

Storm Watch 2007 + Brand new HDTV = too much stimulation for my little brain.

Anticipation

Anyone who knows me knows that I do deeply dig tasty electronical gadgetries.
Melba bought a TV from Amazon. Not just any TV, mind you... a Sony KDL-40V2500 40" BRAVIA 1080p LCD HDTV!Ain't it purty? After a little shipping snafu from Amazon, it arrives tomorrow. I'll probably sneak out of work a little early tomorrow so I can get home and experience it in its full 1080p glory as soon as possible.

O

For my "O" entry under the encyclopedia of me, I've been able to come up with only one word that I feel strongly about.

Ocean. Growing up in Minnesota, and not having much opportunity to travel as a kid, I didn't experience an ocean until a spring break trip to Daytona Beach when I was 15 (unless you count Lake Superior, which is quite ocean-like but colder than a witch's tit). When I first moved to San Diego in 1996, my home was 192 steps from the sand in Mission Beach. I soon came to love the sound of the surf and the extra zing of energy in the ocean air. I moved inland for awhile, hated it, and moved back to the beach as soon as I could. My third home in San Diego was in the southern end of Mission Beach, and the night I moved in I hauled all my boxes into my dinky apartment, ran the 138 steps to the beach, and kept right on running into the surf - fully clothed. I was happy to be back.My original LA home was an apartment 244 steps from the sand in Venice Beach. I lived there for five years, and despite the landlord, I loved that place. One important thing it taught me is that when you live on the beach, it's easy to take it for granted when you have it as your neighbor every day. But go visit somewhere that isn't graced by a beach and that awesome ocean air, and then come back home; it's impossible to not feel blessed. I remember returning home after a visit to Arizona that gave me crazy goosebumps the moment I got a good whiff of the beach (and for you skeptics, no, I didn't live close to the Venice Beach drum circle and its "enhanced" air).

Home nowadays is just a little less than three miles from the beach. Close enough to get there via an easy bike ride, but not close enough. Someday, I'll get back to the beach.

Since I have no more "O" entries for my encyclopedia, I've compiled a list of words that most certainly do not describe me in any possible way whatsoever. *ahem*

obfuscate
verb
render obscure, unclear, or unintelligible

obstinate
adjective
stubbornly refusing to change one's opinion or chosen course of action, despite attempts to persuade one to do so.

obstreperous
adjective
noisy and difficult to control

obtrusive
adjective
noticeable or prominent in an unwelcome or intrusive way

ocker
noun
a boorish or aggressive person

odious
adjective
extremely unpleasant; repulsive

odoriferous
adjective
having or giving off a smell, esp. an unpleasant or distinctive one

Alone time.

One of the trickier aspects of my personality is my intense need to be alone from time to time; I'm sure it comes from my being an only child with few friends. I didn't really know the extent of this about myself until I moved in with Melba, since my previous relationships didn't include much shackin' and I always had a place of my own to go home to. With Melba back in Minneapolis, I had the studio - a little room away from home where I could go and get my alone time whenever the whim struck me. Now that I'm back in LA, I need to find a new studio or another way to get my beloved solitude. Without that time to myself I start getting crabby with Melba for no good reason, which isn't fair to her.

What I really need is a garage. Somewhere I could work on and park a car and my motorcycle, and maybe even have a little desk where I could hang out and poke around on the computer too. Hmm.

Un-blocked?

This is the first time in ages that I've felt like I can post something worth reading here, without needing the pressure of a theme or meme to come up with content.

Ironically, I don't actually have anything to say, besides trying to describe the twinge of glee I feel that might mean...

I'm back in the groove. I've got some ideas. Stay tuned.

Timing

The battery went dead on the wigglewagen today while Melba and I were out shopping. I'm sure that battery was more than a few years old, and the nine times I killed and revived it in MInnesota last winter probably sped its demise. I even made a YouTube video starring the valiant soldier, now fallen.

It did me one last favor before shuffling off this mortal coil; it waited until I was in the Costco parking lot to die. Parked 20 yards from the tire and battery department, where I was able to bring in a fresh recruit and borrow a crescent wrench to do the install. Recycle in peace, comrade.