Technology

I’m puzzled. I don’t know what to make of this article on ipodlounge.com. They have a review for a non apple music player (oddity), they actually recommend it over the shuffle (second oddity), and the actual product itself has me confused. I’ll stop being vague at this point and elaborate.

The product they review is called the cube. Not THAT creative of a name when you find out that it’s a flash based mp3 player 512 or 1 gig, that is shaped like a cube or dice and is the size of quarter on each side. That’s right. It’s tiny. The first thought I had was that this was a joke, along the same lines as the iflea steak posted about a little while back. Then I determined, nope I think this is for real. It gets even funnier when you picture someone actually having a set of headphones plugged into this thing the size of a good sized dice hanging from their neck. It’s a funny image that brings up a good point.

When is technology TOO small? Would I want a camera the size of a postage stamp? How about a cell phone as big as a grain of rice? An mp3 player the size of a quarter? One of the most obvious concerns is interface. But even if I can fully interface with a cell phone the size of a grain of rice, would I want it??? I have a hard enough time finding my cell phone some days as it is. I don’t want to worry about stepping on it because it is slipped under the rug and I couldn’t tell. I don’t want to put my cup down on my digital camera because I couldn’t see it.

For years and years, as long as I’ve been alive the technology race has included two principal factors: 1) Make it Faster and 2) Make it Smaller. Computers have shrunk from the size of a large room, down to a small room, onto desks, into briefcase size packages, onto our laps, and now into our hands. All the while their speeds have increased at a rate that made their shrinking look like it was happening on the same time table as tectonic drift. It really is astounding. But I think we are finally reaching the limit of how small these things can get. I have no doubt that in 5 years the most advanced desk-top computer today could be built, for enough money, to fit in a pda. Maybe that’s stretching it, but I’m not sure.

I don’t really know how to end this post because I’m not sure what the point should be. To a certain extent it all seems like an exercise in futility any way since it’s mostly about making things so people will buy them and keep the economy going. Ah capitalism. But at the same time, many of these miniaturizations have lead to better life saving products. All I know is that the idea of a giant library of records or 8 tracks being able to hang from someone’s neck in a package that could EASILY get lost in a gumball machine just seems almost silly.

changes

I thought due to recent events, that even if I didn’t have time to do a super elaborate entry I should add something. The “recent” event I’m speaking of is my mentor Sara leaving the company I work for. This is relatively significant since 1) She was the last person to be here from when I was hired (Jason moved to London and Dominic opened a restaurant with his wife) and 2) Being the most senior person she was the one who had been managing all of our projects. The end result of all this is that our office has been rather chaotic over the last week and a half. Things are slowly starting to straighten back out but if we don’t get a permanent replacement I’m not really certain what is going to happen.

Word to your Mother.

Specter Getz

If you don't like it, tough. I wrote it at Luna cafe at like 11pm over the best plate of portabella mushrooms and ravioli I have ever had. The sauce alone likely took 2 years off my life, but added in quality what it had to have taken in quantity.

For so long my times of contemplation always had a specter drifting about, sometimes fading in and out, others crystal clear. This specter was birthed by having come across a quote from jazz musician Stan Getz, “My Life is Music…at the cost of everything else.”

So I went on agonizing, “Is my life Christ at the cost of ANYTHING else?” And this one specter haunted me for years always challenging me to identify one thing I had really given up for Christ; it told me I had to flee everything and everyone but Christ to be as devoted as it had been to its master. And as I failed to give up everything I began to fret.

As I sit pondering this conflict again I am brought to look at this question in a new way. I imagine Specter Getz once again walking up to challenge me just as he has successfully done dozens of times before.

I can see the complacent look on his aged face. He wears his devotion to his craft on his lips as the Pharisees wore their devotion around their necks. And so he stops in front of me, not really bothering to look at me, more looking through me, as though he’s already working out the next dissonant progression of notes he’s going to puff out, and he says, “My Life is music at the cost of everything else. Is your Life Christ at the cost of everything else?”

In my mind Getz hesitates for a moment, as if out of courtesy, then starts to walk back into the shadows. Like a nervous school boy, excited to try his hand at answering the teacher yet afraid he is wrong, I finally get out my response, “My Life is Christ to the salvation of everything else.”

In a voice that betrays years of sitting in smoky bars and lounges until too early in the morning he simply says, “Yeah?”

Then in as much an effort to explain myself to him as to work it out for myself I continue, “You always tell me that music cost you everything else and at first I thought Christ was suppose to cost me everything as well, because he says he does. But I never saw how it was different until now.”

“The things I lose to Christ I lose in the same way as trading a painting of a field for a chance to lie in it, to stare up at the clouds and feel the same wind on my skin that is making the clouds above sail slowly by. The things I give up were never really mine, never even real, just phantoms of what they could be, only a hint. But by giving them to Him they are infused with new power, with new significance, true beauty, deeper magic.”

“The master you serve called you to forsake all else, and now your life is occupied by something that can never fulfill you. My Master calls me to forsake all else so that it may be put in its proper place, transformed, and work to bring Him glory and me joy.”

“Yours is about how much you have lost, mine is about how much I give and what I do with what I get in return,” I finish. Stan doesn’t say anything as he starts walking away for what I can only assume is the last time. I want to call after him and ask if this is what he had been waiting for me to say. “Have you been trying to teach me this, or are you just bored with our little game?” “Were you truly trying to torment me, or was this all a big game?”

I don’t bother to say any of these things, and somehow they don’t seem all that important. Not in light of my new thought to ponder.

Brief Poll

Wow, it's been 9 days since I last posted. Terrible, just terrible. I'll have some fun stuff up here soon, but until then a brief poll...

Should I get a scooter? Why?

Thanks to the Anonymous Dominoes Guy

So Abigail and I were on our way to this site visit to measure the privacy in a board-room, when we realized we were lost; we'd taken a wrong turn when we got off the metro. So Abigail starts walking around trying to orient herself, and at the same time trying to talk to our contact at this company for directions. I on the other hand, start looking around like a lost little preschooler. I know, pathetic. Whatever. It was her contact and I don't know the Alexandria area at all. Plus I was lugging a bunch of equipment around.

Cut to about 10 minutes later.

I see a dominoes delivery car pull up to a stop sign so I wave at him and run over to the car. I'm thinking delivery guy, these people are like a rolling road atlas, right? The guy rolls down the window and I ask him, "Hey, do you know which way to Prince Street?" He responds with some vague hand waving in mostly english words, and I realize this is doing me no good. I smile and thank him for taking the time to give me directions. Turning around quite dejectedly and realizing we are still lost, I begin to walk back to the equipment.

The delivery guy starts to turn the corner (towards us) when he pulls over again and says, "Prince street?" Abigail hears him and tells him the actual address. The delivery guy then says something that I didn't expect, "I'm headed that way, why don't you just jump in. I'll drive you." I was a little hesitant at first, until I realized. Wait a minute, this guy has pizza. He isn't going to take the time to drive us out into the middle of nowhere, take our stuff, dump us off and drive away. He has a delivery time to make! We're safe.

So five minutes later he is dropping us off right at the front door of the office we needed to go to, and I'm taking the pizza bag off my lap and climbing out of the car. It was the most random and crazy work story yet. Wierd, wierd times.

All I want is a worth while story

After church today I was reading some various poems by Linford Detweiler and I realized what my biggest concern is. That my life won't be a good story. Not that I desperately want it told to others, but that there won't be anything in it worth telling others.

Things I haven't done yet that I wish I would have:
1. Learned to play the piano.
2. Learned to play the guitar
3. Visited Europe
4. Saved someone
5. Figured myself out
6. Learned how to be charitable
7. Stopped making lists

P.S. I don't really know if any of this post is true. I just felt like typing it.

Explanation

I have to explain the below post. I had this phrase pop into my mind one morning when I woke up about 4 months ago. It was the first four lines of the following bit of poetry/prose. As I went through my morning routine it just kept going through my mind and it evolved a bit. The imageery for the first section of verse also crept in there. This all happened without much concious thought on my own behalf.

Eventually I decided I should write this down, just for the fun of it. As I was writing it down, pretty much everything else came out in one take. I sat on it for a couple months then, remembering it, went back and re-read it. I started doing some editing until I got to the point where I found I couldn't decide if certain things should be added, removed or changed. That's the point I find myself at now. SO, your job is to tell me what you think of this bit of poetry? verse? I don't know what to call it. As is typical of most things I write it is rather heavy handed, so bear that in mind as you read over it. Also, this is the first thing I've ever workshopped, so be gentle yet constructive.

Gray Bulb

There is no day, there is no night.
There is no darkness, there is no light.
There is no wrong, there is no right.
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.

We talk of it as the balance,
that Nature always seeks.
I wonder if we asked her,
if this is what she’d speak.

They came with torches flickering. Casting their ever changing shadows they mobbed the town square, progressing from lamp post to lamp post. As each bulb was changed the town slowly took on a subtely different look. The corners of the benches looked more dull, the various signs were less defined, the white washed fences were more bland but the shadows in the alley didn’t look so menacing in contrast. One by one, as the lamp lenses were replaced the people hurried out of sight. I had recognized a couple of my Professors, the local Bank Manager, the Mayor and several Councilmen, even a Local pastor among the mob.

Throughout history we’ve tried different bulbs. Somehow though, we remain conscious of that first one. We found it in the lamp when we first went searching. We weren’t happy with how bright it was. It made things we wanted look so unflattering. It caused us to see details and differences. There were hideous shadows while it was in.

In a fit of rage we once tried to break it.
When that wouldn’t work we tried to deface it.
All else failing, we removed it, replaced it,
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.

So we change the bulb like changing the guard. Looking for the most comfortable light, the most flattering glow. Bulbs of Myth and gods, of emotions and flesh, bulbs of Enlightenment and Reason, and now the Gray Bulb.

There are some who decide to try the original bulb again, either out of confusion or desperation. When they do they find the light so bright as to be stark. Light pours out of cracks in the lantern. It pierces through the few clear spots in the lens, surrounded by dirt and disgust. We couldn’t see the dirt with the other bulbs in. Least ways, not enough to be offended.

What would happen if someone lived their life such that their lantern wasn’t rusted and dirty? What if this same person had the original bulb in as well? It would be a light we would each recognize from before we had displaced it from our own lanterns. We would all react differently. Some would recoil and be bitter, like having someone flip the light switch when you have been in a dark room for too long. Some, the feeling of recognition so strong in them, would hesitate then warm up to him. Others would for whatever reason be inexplicably drawn to him like moths to a lamp.

Odds are we would all recognize something in that light: Something that made us all nostalgic for who can remember what, Something that would enrage the parts of us that have grown to need darkness and ignorance to thrive. We would then have to chose how we’d respond.

This light would remind us of other times we had glimpsed it before: The voice of one calling in the desert, A glowing face descending a mountain, A glow given off by a bush, A city of light on a hill, A million stars pulsing in unison as an absurd covenant is made.

We see in the response of our culture today their method of coping. Abandoning this clarity and connection to all that is their heritage, they once again search for just the right bulb. And for many today it is the Gray Bulb of relativism with its anemic light. By its light black and white turn to so many shades of gray. Colors are subdued. There are no harsh shadows. Apparently the loss of all that is bright and strong and defined, joyful and sharp is acceptable so long as there is no darkness to threaten its shadows.

This bulb is the last resort of a people afraid of the shadows. When one cannot celebrate the idea of shadow, the only recourse is to make them so ill defined, there is no point in pointing them out. Unfortunately now everything is a potential shadow. It is just too hard to stund up to the fear of the shadows. If this attitude is embraced, then the ultimate destination is one without contrasts, no darkness, but also no light. Should we have to sacrifice the light to abolish the dark?

In a fit of rage we once tried to break it.
When that wouldn’t work we tried to deface it.
All else failing, we removed it, replaced it,
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.

“There is no day, there is no night.
There is no darkness, there is no light.
There is no wrong, there is no right.
Seeking the Gray of eternal twilight.”

We talk of it as the balance,
that Nature always seeks,
I wonder if we asked her,
if this is what she’d speak.

Please keep letting me know what you think about the below post, but I just wanted to say I have added a new discussion question to the chronicles of narnia forum. We are still talking specifically about the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Terror Level Red

Is it just me or is there a possibility that our culture is becoming more melodramatic as the tendency for hypercaution creates a lack of real drama? I’m not trying to suggest the advent of the safety belt or the push to wear helmets is a bad thing. What I am wondering is if the sense of danger we feel today, and the sense of heroism isn’t, just maybe, due to our lack of real persistent struggle (in main stream, middle class, bourgeois America).

On a friends blog I have heard about a plumber advertising, “Life saving services” a title that is likely bloated just a bit, and the pronouncement of “Hero” upon someone who donated blood. I just wonder if back when people were circumnavigating the globe, slaying dragons(j/k), and strapping on their armor to go to battle, what they would have thought about a plumber as a Life Saver! or a blood donor as a Hero!

Oddly enough, due to the rampant amount of disease and the condition of the water supply, a plumber may have been saving lives back then, and a blood donor could have in fact been a hero if the technology existed. In a society where we buy our prepackaged food, cook it properly in our microwave or electric oven, climb in our air bag ladened cars, take our flu shot and keep antibiotics on hand, has there has been both a loss of real danger, and a heightened awareness of any perceived danger?

In a post 9/11 world I’m not trying to insinuate that we are all safe and the color indexed terror-ometer is a hoax, but rather I’m trying to draw attention to part of the cause for our fear obsession. Is it possible we need some sense of danger, of foreboding to keep us motivated? If so, where does this need for danger and fear come from? Certainly there is precedent for the adrenaline junky out for a quick sense of danger, but what could cause a need for a dangling sense of dread or fear?

As someone with absolutely no qualifications to make such a postulate, I will simply continue my “wondering out loud” here. Could it be that we sense there is something wrong with the world around us, that unless we see vivid signs of this we feel as if we are going crazy? Most honest people will admit the world isn’t perfect. Many of the motivations people have are broken. If all we see around us is safe and good, how can we explain this? However, if we find traces of evil, drama, and impending danger it validates our emotional reaction to what we feel is going on.

What am I really trying to say? We can feel deep down that the world is screwed up. With all of the technological advances, and even political and moral “advances”, we feel we still haven’t fixed, “the problem”. Instead of admitting there is some underlying problem we won’t be able to fix, we just point to more superficial problems and say, “No, that is still wrong, which is why I fell bad,” all the while refusing to accept some underlying problem. If we admit the human race is intrinsically fallen, or bent as Lewis put it in Out of the Silent Planet, it means there is something we can’t fix ourselves.

Until we acknowledge our sin, we will always be searching for a reason everything seems broken.

Knight Ryder, Wonka, and Apologies

I have finally come to the conclusion that until I get internet at my house, this blog updating thing is going to be very sporadic. Initially it seemed that whenever I had time to post something, I could think of something that I wanted to say (whether it was actually worth saying or not). Unfortunately, now the precious little nuggets of gooey goodness are spread out enough I’m running into the dilemma of 1. Not having stuff I want to say when I have time to post. 2. Not having time to post/internet access when I come across one of the aforementioned gooey nuggets. As such, this is my formal apology for not updating more. (Also I think that I maybe just wanted a quasi-reasonable framework within which to use the phrase “gooey nugget”.)

I saw Willy Wonka and: 1. Johnny Depp is a excellent. Those who thought his performance in Pirates underwhelming will be glad to see him as wonderful again. 2. Tim Burton is a genius. 3. The remake is stupendous and I never once found myself saying, “Ah man, why did they change that!” 4. In the remake I believe the squirrels will overtake the umpa lumpas as the most frightening part of the movie (though the charred small-world-esque dolls will be a close runner up. This is the darkest movie that I have seen ultimately be happy and cheerful,

P.S. That fabulous fellow Andrew Ryder (the Knight Rider) will be arriving in DC Thursday evening, so that ought to make for a wonderful weekend. Yes.

Sun Bear in the Billionaire's Board Room

Why have I just posted an I.D. badge from a certain cable network? Well, let it suffice to say that although I can’t give away too many details, hush-hush, I was doing sound level testing and got to sit in a certain CEO’s office, the office of the first black billionaire in the United States. He has a pretty sweet office set up. Unfortunately I didn’t get to meet him, but the pictures of people he has met that he had hanging up were quite impressive and included such people as Nelson Mandela and Hillary Clinton, among others.

I don’t think that if I was working in KC I would be working on jobs of this caliber. It is certainly a trade off. By being out in DC I have had to move away from much that I am familiar with and many friends that I truly cannot say too many good things about. However there is no doubt that as far as pursuing my career goals go this was the best thing I could have done. If at some time in the future I chose to pursue some other career path I will know that I have given this as much of a chance as is possible; no doubt will exist as to what potential I could have had on that path. That is something that I couldn’t have really said if I had stayed in KC. I would have spent probably the first 3 years doing very basic calculations and simple reports about office spaces that had air conditioners outside their windows.

See Post Above

5 Minute Madness

OK. In 5 minutes I leave for my second ever "solo" meeting. No big deal, just helping an architect select windows that will effectively limit the site noise (highway and train) that would make the interior of their condos not meet code.

4th of July, was good. The fireworks on the mall were good while they lasted but the whole display lasted maybe 15 minutes. The thing that redeemed it however was the back drop. The fireworks were shot off behind the Washington Memorial. So that was pretty sweet. It was a long walk back home however because the nearest metro stop was mobbed and literally thousands of people were trying to go down the escalators.

This week has been a short week which is nice. It was the first week that my new boss(?) was here for a full work week, even though it was only 4 days. I'll blog more about that later.

Book wise, I finished Pilgrims Progress, so I'll have to blog about that later as well. Now I'm trying to finish The Little Flowers of St. Francis, and I'll blog about that as well. Crap, out of time, off to my meeting.

MikeyC>

Bear Fish?

We all know that bears are bigger than fish, right? At least larger than fresh water fish anyway. We’d feel safe saying that the king of the Sun bears (your’s truly) would vastly outweigh the largest catfish, right. I mean that blog a few back was about the largest blue catfish caught and it was 124 lb, so that should be a safe bet.

Well you’re all WRONG! On the elevator at 6:30 this morning when my eyes were still blurry I saw on the news updater thingy that some in May some men caught a, get this, 646 lb fresh water catfish in the Mekong river in Thailand. 646 lb. That is flippin’ huge. So to all those people that were like, “Oh noodling is so cool. You aren’t cool unless you have noodled, all the cool people do it,” I say, “Yeah, just keep doing that and wait until some you stick your arm in some hole and a catfish swallows you without even chewing. Have fun with that.

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/06/photogalleries/giantcatfish/

Rant-astic Four

1. OK. I wasn’t going to post today, but WOW. I don’t know how many people know what real estate prices in Manhattan are, but just for an idea they are more expensive than DC and a “hypothetical” 2 bedroom in DC is in excess of $1,800/month for rent. Then I hear that Cyndi Lauper, yes the Cyndi Lauper, is suing her management company because she’s upset her apartment costs $1,000 – she only wants to pay $500. What the heck? Admittedly the apartments in NY are under a system of rent control that is supposed to regulate how much rent can go up under a strict set of regulations; believe me, I really understand this. But come on! Who in there right mind complains about $1,000 for an apartment in NY? If you don’t like how much the rent is move somewhere cheaper, like out of NY.

(This is where the link to the story would have gone, but it was so long it screwed up the formatting. Sorry. Find a link, for now, at relevant magazine or google it.)

2. On a separate note, if you’re planning on being in the District in October you should go check out Lennon’s stamp collection. Yeah, that’s right. Apparently it’s so big it’s going to be on display at the Smithsonian National Postal Museum. I’m waiting for the National Gum museum, or maybe the National Water-Gun museum. I guess if you put Smithsonian National… in front of it and capitalize it all people will go see it. I mean, seriously I probably will and I don’t have any great interest in stamps. It just seems kind of cool. Sad, huh.

http://www.postalmuseum.si.edu/collection/3a2i_acquis2005.html

For more interesting news blurbs check out:
http://www.relevantmag.com/

3. While you are there check out some of the articles also. They have an interesting review of the new TV show, “Rescue Me” which I have not seen yet.

4?. P.S. Yes I really posted this at 7:40pm because I just got back from meetings in Baltimore an let me just tell you, when you have a penny pinching client who insists there must be someway to do stuff that pushes the limits of the code minimums, you know you are in for a good time.

Infrequent Updates

You can all blame the recent dearth of posts (7 days between posts, what the heck is that?) on me being in NY and having way too much work to do. If you really want to you can also blame it on the lack of internet access at my house. Either way though I realize a week lapse is lame. So another sweet and low week recap:

Sunday evening I arrived in NY and checked into my hotel. It was a nice place, but not great, located a block south of central park. I never managed to go for a real walk in central park although I walked along the edge of it on my way to Borders on Wednesday evening.

Monday decided that taking a taxi to work would be much more efficient than walking, so I did. It took a little while to get everything set up at the office but I finally managed. The project that I was up there to work on, primarily, was the Ritz Carlton project in Baltimore. One of the partners in the NY office is coordinating it, hence me being in NY for a week. After work I went out with a couple of the people from the NY office and spent too much money.

Tuesday was pretty tame. More work, and after work I really just felt like going back to the hotel. I picked up food on the way back Ray’s pizza and that was that.

Wednesday was pretty similar to Tuesday.

Thursday we had our monthly technical meeting so they provided pizza for lunch. Who has ever heard of lasagna pizza? Not me, but they had it anyway, along with a lot of other weird flavors. What ever. The Hawaiian was good and it had whole pineapple rings and whole sandwich size slices of ham. Yum. After work I went out with the same people I had hung out with Monday, plus Sara from the DC office (who had to come up for the technical meeting).

Friday I worked all day and took the train home from Penn station, which is only a couple blocks from the office. I have mixed feelings about the train although in general I think it’s cool. It would be much less mixed if it were a later train or less crowded.

I spent the weekend recuperating from the week in NY and dreading everything I am going to have to get done this week. I also went to the National Community Church again. The people there seem really nice although the format is still a little bizarre. In truth it feels like it’s halfway between XA and a “regular” church service. There are a lot of parallels to both. Meeting in a church requires that they set up and tear down after each service and the worship so far has been acoustic guitars, a violin, and hand drums. Pretty cool. The messages have also been quite interesting, although I secretly wish there was a little bit more just reading and expounding on scripture, and a little less – “let’s apply this to life and take examples from other sources”. I don’t mean to say there isn’t scripture involved or that the sermon isn’t derived from and based on scripture, because it is. I guess I don’t know what I’m saying, so I’ll stop talking until I do.

That was my week in a nutshell. That was the sweet and low. I need to start updating more so these don’t have to be so flaming long and scattered. Sorry about that. I have done some writing lately that I’d like to post but recently I have become more frustrated with my writing. Whenever I take a look at what I’ve written all I can think is, “My, somebody is melodramatic and heavy handed.” It’s gotten worse, to the point where I stop writing half way through something because I’m so frustrated by it. I wish I could have taken more writing classes in college. If I go back to school (when I go back to school?) I would like for it to be for either English or literature. Sigh.

Until then:

MikeyC>

Short and Sweet

Sometimes when people just want the quick version of something they will say, “Give it to me short and sweet.” I wonder if I could get away with telling people to “Give me the sweet and low?” Furthermore, if I did this could I get sued by the Sweet and Low people, or how does that work? Any lawyers out there?

I will have to keep this Sweet and Low since I am at the NY office today, but here is a little recap:

1. Commerce Bank Situation. I haven’t gotten a new card, but I have put a stop on the old one. Since I have a bank in DC now, Wachovia, I am planning to wait another week or so, write a letter to close my Commerce account, and consolidate. I can’t think of any real reason to keep that account open, especially now that I can’t deposit OR withdraw money.

2. The mini-vacation was really great. I went to the Holocaust Memorial and it was really intense. After only the first exhibit I was so overwhelmed that I kept looking for the exit door and thinking, “I don’t really need to see the rest of this do I?” Despite this urge to turn my head, I made myself keep going through the exhibits until I ran out of time. It was a very sobering opportunity, and one that I think would have been best if immediately followed by reflection with others. Alas, I was by myself so I was forced to merely ponder the images by myself.

I also went to the Lincoln Memorial, and sitting on the steps with hundreds of others was forced to write very melodramatic, pseudo-philosophical notions in my notebook by the oppressive forces being exuded from the memorial. Some day, if you are bad, I will unleash these writings on the world. Pray that this never happens.

3. I went to the National Community Church Sunday. I'll have to do a whole write up on that, maybe after I go next Sunday.

4. NY. I remember Christmas in the blistering cold in a church on the upper west side. Man, those were good times. Wait come to think of it, I’ve never been in NY at Christmas time, my hotel this week is a block south of central park, and I have yet to be in any of the churches NW of there. Other than that though, I know exactly how Ryan Adams feels when he writes:

“…But I tried to keep the overhead low. Farewell to the city and the love of my life - at least we left before we had to go…” Ah, yes…keeping the overhead low. Turns out, that is nigh impossible to do in NY.

Well, that’s the sweet and low.

Oh, if you would be interested in taking part in an online discussion of: The Chronicles of Narnia, hit me up with an email. I think that could be pretty saweet.

C. Foo!

Meditations on Friday

These aren’t really meditations but when writing the subject line I decided it was catchier than saying, “I’m thinking about Friday”.

I find it interesting that each time a friend or family member comes out to DC I get asked the same question about what they should do, what things they should see. I find it depressing that each time I have to answer the same thing, “Uhm, I don’t know. After this week you will have done more touristy things than I have in 7 months.” That is one disadvantage to having lived so far outside DC for the first 3 months; I never wanted to come back here on the weekend. Now that I live closer you would think I might have done more. The problem however is that after work I don’t usually want to spend the remaining few hours of free time out exploring DC. “Why?” you might very reasonably ask. In which case I would answer you, “Because I am quite bad at doing things that involve me breaking out of routine.”

I realize how incredibly horrible this answer is, and what it says about my personality. In an effort to fight this, I will be dedicating this Friday to getting out of the house and doing stuff. I have Friday off work because it is the summer and it is my rotation to have Friday off. This means I’ve had to work extra M-Th, but not much more than I usually do. I’m calling this Friday my Vacation in DC. One day isn’t much of a vacation, but I’m hoping to ride my bike around the mall (area with all the monuments), and hopefully even go to the Holocaust memorial.

So if any of my family can think of things I should do on my “vacation” they should let me know. I’ll keep you posted on how things went.

Also worth noting:
-This weekend will be Ana’s graduation party (daughter of the friends I stayed with in LaPlata),
-Next week I will be in NY all week so if anyone has some cool places I should try to go, other than the usual tourist places I have already been to, tell me what they are.
-In two weeks Grant is in town for a few days. Good times.

I'm thinking I may incorporate this as a banner in a new website design. I like it. It's a shame the heart isn't more defined.