I'd vote for him...

Well, it appears to be an elaborate hoax, but I have to admit to smiling when I heard that Christopher Walken intended to run for president in 2008. After reading this bit of news I followed the link, to www.walken2008.com. It looks serious, but after doing some more research, it unfortunately is apparently a joke site set up by random internet hooligans. One thing's certain though, people love Chris Walken.

I generally try very diligently not to talk about politics, but I think one thing everyone can agree on is that we, as a country, need more cowbell...

An interesting site I stumbled across today is www.ipodsubwaymaps.com. Apparently, if you've got an iPod Photo, you can now use it to navigate various major metropolitan subway systems with these downloadable maps. Damn...now I need to upgrade to a photo and move back to a town with a subway. Alas.

Finally, a musical discovery. I've been listening to iTunes radio over the last couple days, and have found a couple good stations. First, under the "Ambient" category, DI.fm's "Chillout" station offers a good mix of ambient/chillout stuff, good for background noise while working and such. Even better, though, under "Electronic", is DI.fm's Vocal Trance station. Both streams are offered at a max 96K, but for my crappy hearing, they both sounded fine.

One thing I heard on Vocal Trance is a DJ Doboy. Several of his mixes were played, and while he's no Armin van Buuren, it's a good cross-section of stuff. There are several styles of mixes available, and I was able to download several of them via LimeWire and BitTorrent/Pirate Bay.

That's all for today, back to work...

The sun is the same...

...in the relative way, but you're older...


"Time"

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then the one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but you're older
And shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desparation is the English way
The time is gone the song is over, thought I'd something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
When I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away, across the field, tolling on the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
And hear the softly spoken magic spell


Apt words, Messrs. Mason, Waters, Wright, and Gilmour.

So we're looking at almost exactly 15 hours to the thirty-third anniversary of my birth. not the most momentous of occasions, but meaningful to some nonetheless. I suppose it's a time for introspection (Jen? Didn't I already do that a couple weeks ago? Can we count that?) but not being the introspective type, I suppose the meditation would be lost on me anyway...

Something deeply profound would also be suitably grandiose for the occasion, but again, probably not something I can drum up on cue.

No, this birthday is going to be the best one yet, because it's going to be all about what's important in life. Having fun and enjoying one's time on the planet, spending quality time with loved ones of all qualities and quantities, and generally being even lazier than is my norm (but yet being sure to stay above a vegetative state). It also helps that my friends of the day believe in monthlong birthday celebrations, and I'll be partying with many, many sluts tonight, believe you me...It's going to be an amazing day/night/weekend/month/summer/year/etc...

For those curious, last night's date came and went, but more details will have to wait, as I've yet to inform the next of kin and/or concerned parties...and I'd hate for anyone connected to the outcome to hear anything here as opposed to through me personally, so y'all will just have to bear with me on this...

I will say (and be warned, this may be TMI, but hell, it's early, and I'm feeling declarative:) that on a completely date-unrelated note, I've now officially slept with as many women this year as I have my whole life prior to this year. (I think; just based on my off-the-cuff estimated approximations.) Woohoo. Way to whore around, Gene! This will be but the first of many accomplishments made this year, but possibly the most debased one...

Yeah, definitely toeing that didn't-need-to-say-that line in the sand...oh well, chalk it up to the daylight peeking through my windows...time to post it before I read it and change my mind.

More soon, but if not have a fine weekend, wherever y'all are, and whomever y'all are doing!

Creating wealth...

...at least on an imaginary basis...

My little experiment on blogshares seems to be going pretty well...when I joined, my user ID was in the 29,000s (29,922 to be exact). I'm fairly certain that there are well over 30K users now. When you sign up there, you're given an imaginary $500 to "invest" in stocks of various blogs. I don't have all the subtle nuances figured out yet, but in a couple weeks of earnest scrutiny and attempts to learn the system, I've managed to increase my imaginary net worth from $500 to just under $25 million. yep, a 5,000,000% increase. My standing for the month as of August 1 was 4209 with a bit under $4 million in net worth (up from 29922 the previous month, and in the first three days, have bumped it up to where it should be right around 2500 or so. By the end of the month, I should be in the ballpark of the top 1000-1500ish. It's interesting in a geeky sort of way, and I'm not sure if it teaches any kind of real-world investment and/or speculation skills, but I know I do wish the actual stock market worked with such predictability...if so, I'd even get over my bad experiences and move back into day trading, then really dig into my planned life of leisure. Alas...

Anyone want to sign on and challenge me/give me a run for my fake money? Heck, we could even do some real-world betting...cash, meals, humiliating acts, sexually gratifying things for the women...the possibilities are limitless! In fact, with enough interest and we could even get a league of sorts going (though I don't realistically expect to be anywhere near that much interest, I _am_ geekier than most at heart)...It might make it more interesting...in fact, if anyone does, let me know what your ID is on there via the comments here, and I'll gift you a million blogshares dollars worth of stock to get you started (Well, let's say $999,500, so you can start out with an even million)...how's that for sweetening the pot? Amy, I'm looking at you here...this is a great chance to rekindle our PimpWar days! (A story for another day, if I haven't already relayed it here.) Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? It's also not a hugely time-consuimg affair, as you're limited to 20 stock transactions per day (they move you to unlimited trades per day as a paying member, ($15/yr), but I find this way to be more challenging; I'm already outperforming people who have paid and played longer.) I'd say I spend no more than 5-10 minutes on it per day actually executing transactions...I'll even help y'all out a little with pointers to start.

In real world/real life news, my musings of a plan to obtain a real estate broker's license are starting to gel into a semblance of an actual plan (as opposed to one of the numerous things I talk about doing for 6-7 months, then take another 18 months to get moving on,) with some findings today, and possible brain-picking of a hottie friend in the business over a late afternoon/early evening date tomorrow. Here's to hoping that I can make a go of it and not have to find a real job...On the other hand, picking of said (hot) friend's brain could also theoretically be while naked...the mind boggles...

T-minus around 42 hours to the big 33... [gulp]

Ethereal hotties...

Short entry tonight, just a quick note on the astounding number of absolutely gorgeous women on myspace. If your'e not familiar with it, it's like Friendster on crack...although I'm loathe to use the highly overdone cliche "...like ____ on crack..." Though I have yet to really see the true networking potential (whereas I kinda did for Friendster and even Orkut, though I never really spent much time on the latter), as everyone's networks on myspace have gotten to be cartoonishly large, many you'll encounter well into the thousands. Some of the pages resemble the web's early homepage attempts, complete with busy and needlessly annoying animated gifs, poorly and overmodulated sound bites, and bandwidth and processor-intensive videos. Comments have devolved into "hey, you're hot!" and "thanks for the add" one-liners, but who am I to complain, the eye candy's pretty sweet. My own network is right around 150, of which I actually know maybe a dozen people? versus around 35 of 35 on Friendster. Peruse my network here. (Not sure if you need to be registered/signed in to see that, but if you're into that sort of thing, it only takes a couple minutes, once you're registered, add me as a friend, so if you're on there we can offically be friends (how gay does that sound? Sheesh.)

I'd heard about it for some time, but hottie flight attendant Ames was the one to finally get me to sign up, under the guise of needing help coding her page. Clever. Since then, I've been in constant amazement at the sheer number of hotties who have pages there.

Clearing the queue...

The following has been sitting, largely untouched, in a file on the PowerBook for oh, about three weeks now. The rationale was that while I had a pending post waiting to be completed, I couldn't start and/or post a new entry, for fear of disturbing the delicate balance of the flow that exists within the blog. If you're thinking that that sounds suspiciously akin to a crappy excuse to not write/post more, I'd say that you're pretty astute, and kindly go make your observations elsewhere, thanks.

Read and enjoy, this kind of sets up the poorly-timed photo of July 12th (it's supposed to say CLT-CLE 14:00 on-time, but it didn't even occur to me that those animated/moving LED signs don't photograph well. What can I say? I was trying to catch a plane...


[scene fades out present, fades in three weeks prior...]

So it's decided that I'm overdue for a trip to Chicago...Bah wants to move and sell the farm, and I'm responsible for probably 93 percent of the crap that's there. Seeing as how I have no job and no prospects, I'm loathe to spend a couple hundred bucks on airfare, or the requisite fuel to drive back (which would probably be about the same couple hundred bucks, but would then be a far better idea, as I'd probably need to bring some portion of said junk back with me.)

As it turns out, I still have several open-ended free "counter" tickets obtained from USAir and Continental during my airline/CSA days. One of these tickets is for the CLT-ORD-CLT (in addition to CLT- EWR(Newark, NJ x2) and CLT-LGA) round trip, and I decide to try and cash one in. I say "try", because technically, these tickets are issued only to airline employees as a courtesy, and deigned to be used only while duly employed with that airline. However, that being said, I did have the foresight, while still gainfully employed, to "lose" one entire set of my airline/airport credentials (including one employee parking pass,) thus ensuring that I would ostensibly remain an airline employee at least through August, 2006. One side benefit of this arrangement is, at least in theory...more on that later), that I'll never be flagged for "additional screening", or have to wait in the security queue again.

So Sunday afternoon, I pack not only for a weekend at the resort, but several days in the old hometown.

[Fast forward through Sunday resort shenanigans...]

Sometime Monday afternoon, (basically right as I get up) I decide to try and make the 2:00pm flight to CLE (Cleveland), # 2268, then connect to flight 2247 into ORD. Since the flight wasn't until 2pm, I figure that that should be plenty of time to get up, say goodbye to the hosts and other resort goers, and make my way to the airport and scam my way onto the flight. All well and good, in theory. Due in part to extended goodbyes, I'm not off the resort campus, which is roughly 30 miles north of the airport until 13:01. Fly through traffic, park the car in employee lot "C" (13:31), get on the employee shuttle (13:38), arrive at the terminal (13:41) run down to security checkpoint 3 (or was it C? I forget the naming convention at CDIA), where I make the mistake of showing the guy my badge and open paper ticket with no date, flight number or time (13:43). He tells me I need a boarding pass, and to go to the counter. I go to the counter, tell them I want to try and non-rev on the 2:00pm to Cleveland, and they tell me just to try and go to the gate directly. I tell them I tried that, and the guy said I need a boarding pass. They tell me duh, don't show him your ticket, just tell them you're non-revving, and he's already seen you, so use checkpoint 2 (or "B"). (13:45) Aaaah, K...duh indeed.

I continue on my journey through checkpoint 2/B, where I badge through the "crew" line, and my duffel bag is flagged for additional screening, despite just having badged through. (13:46) Lovely. The guy, as nice as he is, checks my bag very thoroughly, making sure to very openly (and at eye level) examine my mini bag of condoms and lube, the other partial box of condoms in the bag, and just when I think he's got to have checked it all, continues to empty the bag, as if he's looking for something in particular. At this point, the swab has already been cleared by the giant sniffer machine, but he soldiers on. Finally, after I selectively have myself convinced that there's nothing to find in the bag, he pulls out...a pair of handcuffs. Whoops. forgot those were in there. I generally keep them in that bag for convenience's sake, and traveling with them generally isn't a problem. So he makes a big production out of asking every last one of his co-workers whether "...these are OK? I can't remember." Sure you can't buddy, I've done too much customer ridicule/spotlight focus in my own jobs not to know it when I see it. No worries, as long as I make my plane. Once he gets the OK from the supervisor (approximately 736 co-workers later,) I'm cleared to go, and he wishes me a good trip. Right after which, he adds, "...it looks like you're going to." Sure thing buddy, you have yourself a fabulous day.

Right, so where were we? Ah yes, trucking out to gate A12 (the very LAST one, naturally) from the more-distant checkpoint B with around nine minutes to spare. Even with two motorized walkways, it takes around five minutes to hoof it down the concourse. Plane's still there, and the jetway door is open, good signs. I plead my case with the CSA at the podium, and much to my delight, she and her peer have a good chuckle at my antics, telling them that I used to absolutely loathe people like me, showing up in the last moments prior to departure, with no documentation and exorbitant needs/demands. They assured me that it was alright, they'd wait until after I got on the plane to talk shit about me, and I made sure to tell them that I'd be disappointed if they didn't.

Turns out the fuel delivery was a little late, and that may have contributed to the gate agents' accommodating moods. It's 13:58, I'm sitting in seat 9C, and the plane pushes off at 14:03. Whew.

Get into Cleveland, and as luck would have it, my planned connecting flight is at the very next gate over. Sweet. Go to check in with the gate agent, who's a middle-aged Asian guy. He indicates that I should be able to get on the desired flight, and proceeds to put me on the standby list. Just in case, I ask him to list me standby on the next flight (to ORD, three hours later) as well. Then, in a neurotic fit, I ask him to list me on the flight between the two, which leaves 10 minutes after the next one, but is clear over at the end of the next terminal, and goes to MDW instead. I realistically don't think I'm at all likely to take that flight, as I'd probably not make it over in time, let alone the fact that Midway is 40-60 minutes south (O'Hare is 10 miles/20 minutes) from Bah's place) out of the way, but what the heck, list me for the proverbial shits and giggles.

30 minutes pass, then 40, they start boarding the 50-seat plane, other standby passengers get called (all manner of paying customers get priority boarding as compared to non-revenue ("non-rev" in industry parlance) / space-available ("SA" or "Space A" in the vernacular)) and let on, and I'm starting to get antsy, when Asian guy waves me over and lets me know that I'm on. Sweet. Then he notices another older Asian businessman type in a suit at the gate counter. After assessing his situation, it is determined that he needs to get on first, as he's a paying customer. Ah, the joys of SA travel. No big deal I guess, I'll just follow him on and stand here for 30 more seconds, live and let live. Wrong. Turns out Mr. Asian quasi-businessman in his gay purple suit took the last seat on the plane. MY seat. Crap. Now I've got 30 seconds to make a decision. Can I hoof it over to the other terminal to make the flight to MDW, or bite the bullet and wait for the 3-hour-later flight to ORD? Hrm. Gotta be in in time for dinner with Bah's new girlfriend, so I guess 3h isn't an option...looks like it's time to hustle over to the MDW flight. To make a long story only slightly less long, I made the flight, partly because the gate agent had my boarding pass printed up, and I make it on the plane before completely passing out into lung failure.

So finally, I make it back to Chicago, and all's well...

And L...I finished on the plane. :D

More to come, possibly...



Well, that's it...the trip to Chicago ended up being completely boring, didn't see or do anything or anyone, and in fact, had to blow off a couple/few friends (Sorry Amy, Amy, and Michelle) who I'd tentatively made plans with, and completely neglected to tell dozens of others that i was even in town. I even passed on a sure thing! I'm getting sloppy in my old age, it's true... (sorry Breanne, maybe next time...)

And now that it's been three weeks, the relevance of the trip is largely lost...we'll see in the next day or two if anything more interesting happens that might be worth writing about...

Ciao, friends.