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fueled by fingers. and keyboards.
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I hate sand.
Hi. I'm alive, in case anyone was worried that I might not be. I forgot how to get into EDO for awhile. But Eric is amazing and fixed it. Thanks buddy.
I've been laying pretty low the last few months. Started training for another marathon and will (hopefully) be completing the Eugene marathon on May 2nd. I might downgrade to the half marathon depending on how I'm feeling going into it, but for now the plan is to do another 26.2 miles. Then I think I will quit marathons forever. Or at least until I feel the need to do another one.
I decided to take the big step and apply to grad school. I turned in three applications and so far have heard from two of the three schools. I made the cut for interviews at CSU in Ft. Collins, but then received a lovely rejection email the next week. Then, just to make sure I really understood that they didn't want me, they sent me a hard copy of the rejection letter in the mail. Thanks, CSU, for covering all the bases. The other school I have heard from is a tiny Jesuit school in Buffalo called Canisius College. They accepted me. I have phone interviews next week for assistantship positions, because, you know, income while I'm in school would be nice, but it's not a guarantee. It's nice to just know that I am in somewhere and will finally be starting grad school in the fall.
It's also terrifying. By the end of the summer, I'll be living somewhere else. No more Portland, I'll probably be all the way on the other side of the country in a place I don't know with people I don't know... I think this is supposed to be really exciting, but I'm honestly terrified. At least when I was an undergrad I knew a couple people going in. This is going to be totally different. But the way I see it, this is the perfect time in my life to do this. No real strong ties keeping me here, I don't have a family or a home, I can just pack up and move for a few years and get my master's then decide where to go from there. I'm gonna hope that this all works out for the better.
I leave on the 21st for a month long school that I have to attend for work. I'm not very excited about it, in spite of the fact that it's in Hawaii. Everyone tells me I'm crazy for not being excited about getting to spend a paid month in Hawaii, but in all honesty I have never had any desire to go there. I hate sand. It's an island. There will be sand. And I'm going to have to live in a hotel for a month. Gross. At least I get the room to myself. Maybe I'll even manage to get a tan. That'd be neat. I forsee myself spending a lot of time alone, although I do know two people who live on that island, so hopefully I'll get to see them. I don't go out of my way to try and make friends with military people. Not my cup o' tea.
So here is my question for you all: I will be in need of a new computer in the next few months. Should I spend the extra loot and get a Mac, or should I just stick with the good ol' PC?
always.....
The plan.
Being on vacation, I was still in bed at 9am when I received a phonecall from an unknown number. I could tell by the area code that it was local, but I didn't answer, because cool kids screen their calls. The caller left a voicemail. Vision still hazy, I listen to the message.
Within a few moments, I realize that the keystone component to my ongoing equation is complete, a full day earlier than expected. Such a relief. I hang up the phone and go back to sleep, smiling.
Thirty minutes later, my phone rings again. I fumble grabbing it from the nightstand, but can see that it is my boss. Attempting to answer, I accidentally hit 'ignore.' Feeling dumb, I attempt to return the call. Busy. A voicemail appears. I listen. Sounds urgent. Gah.
I redial the number. My boss answers.
"I hate to call you on vacation, but there's some news ..."
I gnash teeth a bit.
"your promotion is set to take place at the start of the year."
Shit yes. Epic news. I get all the details, thank her for the wonderful communique and hang up. I got a title change (senior level!), 20% more pay and get this -- my duties don't change. More cash for doing the same job I'm doing. Level up!
I haven't even started my day and things are indescribably awesome. Thusly, I throw some Analord on, shower and hit the pavement to Beavercreek, Or. My mission is to obtain the aforementioned keystone -- a custom made reel. The city was getting assaulted by rain and was subsequently jam-packed with angry holiday drivers. Brake Brake Gas Gas Gas Brake Honk Gas Honk. 30 infuriating minutes later, the sky opens up and traffic disappears as I enter a particularly scenic interstate. Perfect.
An hour later, I'm in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but gorgeous farmland and deserted pavement. Driving entirely too fast on a narrow (but well maintained!) road, I eventually locate the address and drive down a gravel driveway towards a small warehouse. Exiting the car, I knock on a windowless door and am let in promptly. Graciously greeted by three employees, I am presented with the View-master reel and a View-master to inspect the results. I hold it to my eyes, pointing it towards the skylight and am greeted with beautifully illuminated pictures. Again, perfect.
I thank the staff profusely. They were extremely accommodating and pleasant to deal with. Keystone in hand, I strut to my car and get the f**k out of dodge.
Spraypaint complete
The night prior, I had put the finishing touches on a related item -- a painting. Essentially, I wanted to do another canvas / stencil project with a View-master as the subject. Since View-masters are dependent on light, I thought I would incorporate a few strategically placed white LEDs, so that the painting could act as a nightlight as well.
I had planned on ordering all the parts online, but thankfully, I found an amazing cache of surplus parts at a local business. It's called Surplus Gizmos and completely delivers what it promises. It's a big warehouse of surplus electronic parts. Their website doesn't even begin to relay the sheer awesomeness of the place. After spending about 2 hours perusing their wares, I walked out with a supply of LEDs, resistors, some cool vintage switches, an old keyboard, two 9v power supplies and massive inspiration to build electronic things (guitar pedals, anyone?)
LEDs + resistors mounted.
Anyway, I struggled with how to construct the painting. After destroying one canvas in the name of discovery and science, I discovered that the best way to incorperate the LEDs was to surface mount them to the canvas. Using a spacer, the reel would be elevated above the LEDs and the light would shine through the reel slides. I didn't want it to be readily apparent that there were LEDs in the painting when it wasn't on, so I had to be fairly crafty and work in a very small space. Using a tiny bit of Velcro, I could quickly change the reels as well, which is key.
Using my trusty Dremel, I punched a hole in the side of the canvas to accept the switch which would turn the lights on and off. Realizing that fingerprints would be an issue when using the switch, I realized a black border was necessary. Furthermore, I didn't want to require the painting to be plugged in, so I got some molex plugs and made the power source swappable -- you can plug in a 9v battery or plug it into the wall. After wiring everything up, I set the canvas aside, as I had stencils to cut.
The stencil itself was to be a four-layer / four-color dealie. The shapes were pretty simple, so unlike my last Xmas stencil, no heroic efforts or performance enhancing drugs were necessary in order to xacto it out. Once cut, I sprayed everything. I had already spent upwards of 15 hours researching and prepping the canvas, so each layer was sprayed with the utmost care. Botching things would have been unforgivable and probably required ritual seppuku or at least a self-inflicted uppercut to the junk. Thankfully, everything turned out. Much better than expected, even.
Completed!
Two days before Christmas, I had the painting, a custom View-master reel, an 80s era View-master (thanks internet!) and my secret weapon -- I was all set.
Ms. Kim and I woke on Christmas Eve day at 5am PST. The plan was to be on the road at 6:30am. Due to some packing difficulties and a few pit stops, we got on I-5 at 7am to traverse the state of Oregon, back to our motherland. That morning, I absolutely conquered the freeway with Kim's 3 series BMW, making the trip in 4 hours (INCLUDING a 30 minute stop for gas / breakfast). My fastest time yet. Not that I was racing or anything ...
Frozen puddle found on the homestead.
Christmas day started at 9am. My father was very proud of the fact that he had planted the Christmas tree by seed years ago. I will admit that it was glorious. We drank Irish coffee and took turns opening presents. I gave Kim the View-master painting equipped with a 1970s Busch Gardens reel. She squealed.
Fogged in.
Among other wonderful gifts (Fender Blender!) I received, she gave me a vintage pachinko machine, which absolutely blew my socks off. From the late 70s, it's still perfectly functional and in supreme condition. It's completely mechanical, driven by gravity and all sorts of crazy levers and chutes and things. Indescribably rad.
70s era Montreal Olympics themed Nishijin pachinko machine.
Later that afternoon, we ventured out to Kim's mom's place. Before we left, I grabbed my bulky jacket and insisted that Kim bring something warm. We ate dinner among a strange mix of family and friends. We exchanged gifts and generally chatted about for a few hours. Eventually, it got dark and foggy, so we decided to jet. As we made the trek back home, I informed Kim that we would be heading to Ashland to grab a drink with the crew. She moaned about being tired. Perfect.
Closeup Pachinko.
Eventually, we arrive in the deserted Ashland plaza around 9pm. I pull into a spot, put the car in park. I inform kim that suddenly, I don't feel like getting a drink. But since we drove all the way out here, we could at least take a quick walk around the park, since it was a bitter cold but gorgeously clear night. We held hands and walked to the Lithia Park bandshell, a place where years earlier, I had botched a first kiss and gotten horribly embarrassed.
We laughed as we walked around the bandshell. There was only one problem, the bandshell had no lighting -- it was quite dark. I assumed there would be some lights. I needed lights. Crap.
Improvising, I slowly start walking up the grass towards the fountain. It's winter and the fountain is drained, but there were numerous lights. One could say, in the light fog, that it was glowing.
We arrived after ascending some steps. Kim pranced around the edge of the fountain while I fumbled with my jacket. She did a twirl and walked around to my side and sat down. From my pocket, I produced a View-master loaded with my custom reel. Looking confused, she put it to her eyes. I watched her smile as she realized what the reel contained -- pictures of her and I, spanning our lengthy courtship. She clicked through them til the end. Looking up at me, she asked me how I did that.
I told her to pull the reel out and look at the label. As she looked down, deciphering the EFF + KRJ = ? equation, I produced my secret weapon -- a diamond motherf**king ring (thanks, bulky jacket!). When she looked back at me, I took a knee and attempted to ask if she would marry me. We both got a little tripped up in terms of communication, but it was readily apparent that she was accepting my offer. Perfect.
Back in October, I said that I might be finishing up the best couple months of my life. I was lying. I wasn't finishing them up, I was just getting started. Life is but a dream. I love you all.
ps -- 2010!
Correlation is not causation.
It may be too early to say, and not to jinx things, but I may be finishing up the best couple months of my life, to date. Coincidentally, they've been some of the most stressful that I've endured.
Much of the goodness comes in terms of my job. I still can't say 'my career' without wincing a bit. To me, 'career' implies a certain achievement or status, something that I'm not quite ready to call my own. But I might be getting close.
Obligatory coastal sunset shot.
I've been on fire the past couple of weeks. We had a crazy project that needed to get done post-haste, prior to the holiday season. This project involved a lot of moving parts and in the end, five critical systems would be depending on it (see also: Achilles heel). Because it was so critical, there could be absolutely no f**kups. As we marched towards go-live, we came across some pretty severe issues. For the first time in my professional experiences, I felt completely confident in my abilities -- there wasn't a problem that I didn't solve with ease. I felt like an electric wizard, equipped with a Model M, dishing out miracle spells to the sweet soundtrack of machine-gun keyboarding. Or something like that.
We finally flipped the switch, early and under budget. It was an astounding success and it feels f**king great.
Smokestack in Garibaldi, Or. There's a tree growing inside.
Additionally, in the midst of the chaos, I got a fat bonus and that raise I wanted. I was surprised, considering the fact we just went through some major layoffs and I thought that wages had been frozen. I've also heard rumors of a promotion as well. The last promotion netted me a 23% raise, which nearly made me shit my pants, but I'm not holding my breath. To be honest, I'm just stoked to have a job that affords me enough extra fundage to buy something totally dumb and self indulgent every once and awhile.Caked out, son.
"Hey Kim, come look at this asshole."
My life outside of work has been nothing short of a dream. For the first time in 3 years, I dipped into my 'paid time off' bucket and took some vacation days. Ms. Kim and I both took a week off. Our goal was to do as little as possible -- to have an entire week of 'lazy Sundays.' We almost achieved our goal. During the later part of the week, we packed the Bimmer and hit the road to the coast. Last Christmas, Ms. Kim's employer dropped her a gift certificate to a coastal inn, so we thought we'd take advantage of it before the 9 months of winter set in.
We could have spread the money out and stayed two days, but we opted instead to get the best room in the whole establishment -- it had a staircase and a jacuzzi. Classy. After exploring the beach, consuming some good food, drinking some good booze and catching a tiny bit of sleep, we packed the car up and hit the road. Our goal was to travel the entire coastal length of Oregon in one fell swoop.
Highway 38 / 138
With the windows half-cracked, sunroof open and 8 hours of handcrafted mixes, we blazed down Highway 101, through some of the most beautiful parts of Oregon. We frequently drove too fast through the coastal roads, but it just wasn't enough -- before we knew it, it was already late afternoon and we weren't even halfway down the coast. We opted to cut back via Highway 38 / 138 to Interstate 5 and continue the trek down to the family farm.
We were sad to say goodbye to the coast, but highway 38 was an absolute joy to drive. Minimal traffic, newish pavement and gorgeous terrain. Perfect.
After surviving the drudgery of I-5, Kim and I made it to my parent's house at a reasonable hour, made some stiff (hard?) cocktails and hit the hot-tub to stargaze. The next morning, I awoke and everyone was gone -- my parents were at work and Kim was out visiting her family. With some good music, a camera and some sunshine, I took the opportunity to go explore the homestead, something I haven't done in far too long.
An old Lincoln, crushed and mangled, embedded in the side of a hill in a remote portion of the homestead.
Everything seems smaller. I think that being able to visualize property lines killed my childhood picture of infinite wilderness. I was pleased to see that many of the old trails are still there. Deer and cattle find very efficient ways through the woods. As I traversed an open field, I stopped in the middle to remove my headphones and listen -- complete silence, save for some wind. I really miss that.
Treeblood.
Later that evening, the four of us went to see Mr. James Taylor at the Jackson Country Expo. We drank overpriced wine and water and listened to him belt out all the classics. He played a few newer tunes, but he knew what the crowd came to see and stuck to his back catalog. After all, we payed good money to hear 'Fire and Rain'. James is getting old as f**k, but he's still got a wonderful voice, charming personality and guitar skillz. He put on a great show. A very nice way to end the summer.
Gulch.
Ms. Kim and I ventured back to Portland the next day to prepare for our return to the working class. Before that could happen, though, I had to attend the wonderfully bizarre Portland Retro Gaming Expo 2009 with Sledg.
Treehouse.
I picked Sledg up in the late morning. We traveled towards the waterfront, in search of a specific hotel convention room. I couldn't recall the name of the hotel, so in order to find the place, we had to rely on our tracking abilities. We noticed a few stray flocks of nerds and noted their migratory patterns. They seemed to converge on a specific hotel lobby. We made chase and found that our hunch paid off -- we had arrived.
As we made our ways towards the conference room, we were greeted by folks running the admission tables. For a measly $10, we were given a wristband, a handstamp and let through the (no shit) velvet ropes, released into a sea of nostalgia and nerdstink.
The room itself was about 1/2 the size it should have been, considering the number of people that were in attendance. The room was a nerdmaze of tables, each one piled up with it's own special blend of wares. From Intellevision to Lynx to Virtual Boy and even a Atari Video Music, it was all there, much of it for sale. Some folks were in costumes, some were unbathed, but everyone was swarming in this agoraphobic nightmare. I only brought $20, so my buying options were limited. I ended up snagging up my favourite controller ever, the NES Advantage, as well as a homemade P-Wing magnet.
Posted up.
After circling the place twice, the competitions began. We took that as our cue to get the f**k out of there. As we exited the room, we noticed a table in the corner with a really old pachinko machine on it. We stepped closer to investigate. The man sitting behind the table saw our enthusiasm and explained his restoration. After looking at the innards of it, I was ready to leave. Sledg was taking some pictures, so I continued to shoot the shit with the man. Out of nowhere, he produced two Missile Command Atari cartridges. He held them close to my face and explained that one of the carts were real and the other fake. He asked if I could tell which one was fake.
After studying the carts for a moment, it became apparent that one of them had some Photoshop work done -- the missile commander's face had been replaced with the visage of the very man holding the cartridges.
He was pleased that we could identify the differences. He continued to talk. As it turns out, this man has made two attempts to break the world record high-score for Missile Command. Both times, after over 24 hours of straight gameplay, the machine malfunctioned.
Knowing very little of the arcade high-score community, other than what I have seen in King of Kong, I mention that he should suspect foulplay. Jokingly, I suggest that Walter Day may have been the saboteur. As I speak the name, his eyes light up. Out of nowhere, he produces a copy of a
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