Yard Pics

the ongoing vegetation apocalypse now has pictures. Just scroll past the cute cat that secretly wants to kill me. These were taken last week, pre-chainsaw. I'll be taking some more, if only for my own enjoyment.

I haven't worked up the gumption to write about jury duty. Perhaps tomorrow.

Monthly $

a pathetic $.88 to add to the total. That brings me up to $12.19. A long way from my glorious goal of $100, hopefully sometime before the end of the Mayan calendar.

I am contractually obligated to remind you not to click on my ads, no matter how safe, informative, and helpful they may be.

Chainsaws For Justice

I have a longish blog to write about jury duty. Perhaps this weekend.

In the meantime, I took advantage of getting out of there early today and continued with backyard jungle clearing. This time a new weapon enters the fray. A weapon that had I known before hand its power, it would have never been absent. That is the electric chainsaw bestowed upon me (with the instruction book so I don't chop my hands off) from my father. The Mitchell equivalent of Excalibur tore into the punji-esque tree trunks littering my backyard like a chef slicing celery. It's raw power was only stopped by the length of my cord, something that will be addressed.

After spending days of lopping and handsawing, the sheer brute force of a chainsaw is something beautiful to behold. As the sun went down I blindly thrashed through my yard, daring anything six inches or smaller in circumference to taunt me. My yard is now littered with corpses. It's truly a wonderful thing. My next hour or two into backyard fun will be removing them- which is always the boring part. Cutting stuff is fun. If you have the means, I highly suggest it.

To continue the mind-numbingly boring yard talk, I also used my free time to purchase a lawnmower. I'm looking forward to having one that actually cuts things up, bags them and also doesn't fill my yard with smoke. The previous mower actually caused one of my neighbors to come rushing out onto his deck. Kinda funny. He then went and shut all the windows facing my house. Wuss.

One might rightly ask where is all the video game talk? I bought Tiger Woods 08 and figured out how to listen to podcasts on my Xbox- the usual scenario since Saturday has been about 3 NPR/Giant Bomb/Major Nelson podcasts and a ton of simulated golf. And then I realize that its dark outside. It's fun, but we all know its just a stop gap til the end of this month when I will be swimming in Grand Theft Auto IV, just like every other dork you know.

a slight deviation from the norm

"I don't think you understand, I'm a guest at this hotel."

That was how my dream started. Or more accurately, that's the first thing I remember. I am struggling to make the desk clerk understand that I have every right to use the elevator. He seems to think otherwise.

"Do you have any identication?"

I search my person and find that I don't. I feel that typical pain when you reach for your wallet and it's gone. Your mind instantly races- where did I leave it? Since this is a dream, I "push" the conversation on, knowing that I don't want to waste time on this detail.

"You don't belong here." The desk clerk says. Not ominously, but it catches me offguard. You know how sometimes you can control your dreams? I just did with the wallet thing. But this wasn't from me. This was the dream speaking. And it was right.

Next thing I know, I'm being introduced to the way things work. We're walking through a mall-esque structure. Shops selling indeterminate items pass by. We stop at a food court and order food. It comes on a tray out of a hole in the wall- kind of like the old Fish Market. You never see who prepares it- it just appears in a hole in the wall. We don't actually eat the food, but we do admire it. Then they show me the forbidden zone.

The shape of the zone is hexagonal. Drones patrol it, marked by red dots on my mini-map. It occurs to me that I now have a mini-map. The entire dream takes on a video game-like presence. I see cones of light emanating from the drones, showing me what direction they are looking. The dream is urging me onward, face these robotic (but not completely inorganic) beasts. I decline and end up talking to a shoe shining bum outside the forbidden zone. I don't remember the substance of our conversation, but I do remember him being very sarcastic- questioning the reason why that damn zone was forbidden in the first place. We have a laugh about it. Then my body starts to disassemble. Like it was made of polygons. Then I wake up, sweating. And I grab my notebook at start writing. I can't actually explain it well. But it was very strange and very real to me. The first thing I wrote across the top of the page was

PURGATORY

Things you never, ever want to have to google.

"cat rectum problem"
"cat rectum swelling"
"cat diarrhea"

I'm not going to talk about it. If it doesn't get better tomorrow, he's going to the vet. he either ate something bad, or... i dont know. i don't want to know.

enjoy your meal!

Where Money Comes From

Did you know where money comes from?

I didn't. It blew my mind. Just to make sure I wasn't watching some propaganda, I did a little research... this is absolutely true.

The Betrayal

Tonight after watching UAB win a close one, I went out to the Battle Van and tried to crank it to go home. The cylinder would not turn. this isn't too surprising, I've been having to sweet talk it in order to get the key to turn. Tonight, however, my sweet nothings nor my brute physical force could persuade it. I, a 33 year old man, had to call my dad to bring me the backup key. It worked like a charm- apparently after 18 years of use GMC keys stop functioning. Good to know. I'll be copying the good key tomorrow- but this little misadventure has reminded me that this van's time is coming. No air conditioning and odd squeaks are all harbingers of its doom. 

As I waited on dad tonight I was already planning going car shopping this weekend. That might be delayed, but it's going to happen. And whatever I buy will definately get more than 14 miles to the gallon. This cursed van leaves a Carbon Trench in its wake. And even though my environmental sentiments are the equivalent of a small oil company's, I am looking seriously at any vehicle that I am comfortable in and gets over 30 mpg. I am done with this nonsense.

Superiority moment: I am currently typing this blog entry on a widget on the dashboard of my mac. this dashboard also displays the lyrics to "Cato as a pun" by Of Montreal, statistics about my itunes, a calendar, dictionary, weather forecast, information about computer (cpu temps, ram available, hd space), a clock, my gmail inbox, a post it note thing with a serial number i saved in it, and a calculator. Why didn't I buy a mac 5 years ago?

Mac Pro-ing

So I am typing this on my fancy new computer. I had planned on actually going out Friday, but the lure of the Mac won out. It also doesn't hurt to save a little money on the day when I spent as much as I did on this thing. My first impressions.

1. It's heavy. I mean really heavy. And all metal.

2. it's much taller than my old PC case. Makes me feel like I put a divider up in my room.

3. Setup and installation was by far the easiest I have ever participated in. It found the keyboard, mouse, monitor, internet, external hard drive without me telling it anything. After my recent experience with Vista, which came out 5 years after the first version of OSX, I am actually stunned that Microsoft remains so clunky. And it will take some serious, serious issues with this computer/OS for me to ever go back.

4. I've successfully acquired all the programs I need. I gave it something to stew on earlier- a couple of serious renders. I'm convinced its actually faster than the one I have at work. Which is kind of funny.

5. The keyboard is about a 1/4 inch thick. its very strange, but surprisingly not bad. It's made of metal so you could probably hurt someone with it.

In other news I think I'm sick. All sniffly and down to one nostril. Too much info, I know. I also bagged 9 bags of leaves/mulch, and cut down about 9 small trees today. The pillaging of the backyard flora continues.

Quick movie review and I'm out-

King of Kong was incredible. I'm going to make my parents watch it. Highly recommend.

I can't help that I'm so superior

Yeah, I said it.

I got some reader feedback last night. Since that was probably half my readers, I should listen to both of them. I enjoy talking about what's going on- and if that's getting the greatest computer on earth, then that might get brought up. I could talk about the Vampire Weekend show- It was fantastic. But nooo. Don't want to be superior.

Let's talk about yard work.

I moved in this house in 2005, with the intent of clearing the foreboding forest in the back third of my property. Until yesterday, that was lip service. Longtime readers will remember my dumping of leaves into this area- creating a no man's land of mushy mystery. Yesterday, as I finalizing "Giant Pile of Leaves 2008", I grabbed my loppers, and entered the forbidden zone. For those in tiny apartments, loppers is the greatest invention ever. I've cut down small trees with this thing. So I went into the back with the lopper, and emerged covered in the blood of privet. I got privet everywhere. Need some? Let me know. Right now, there's a giant pile of it by my driveway.

Anyways, I blazed a trail to the back corner of my yard, and then worked my way up the middle. Today, I removed some giant limbs that had been there since before I moved in. And I am not done. Basically, if it is loppable, then it dies. Unless it's hardwood and taller than I am. Once all of this is done (couple of weeks, maybe) I plan on finding some DDT or Agent Orange and carpet bombing the ivy out there. It will come back, of that I am positive. But right now it is an affront to me. It must die.

This leaves (ha ha!) the giant pile of leaves. With my newfound desire to clean up, they cannot be deposited in the forbidden zone. I must actually bag them. I've dreamed of ways to burn them without causing the neighbors to freak out but I don't think that will work. After this, I'm looking at the eyesore of a dog house that dares to still stand. I am coming, doghouse, and I am bringing hell with me!

This...is....Conway Lane!

oh man that was terrible.

So there. All is not correct in my world. Despite watching the finest TV, purchasing the finest computer, watching the hottest band, I am but a man. A man with a yard that resembles Uganda. (I don't know if Uganda has forests). I struggle just like you do, with your workings and such. I too understand how the world is out to get you. I am a relatable blogger, feeling your hopes and fears as if they were my own. Please click on my ads now.

There you go, now I've done it. The jackbooted Googlorians are here.

TV Review: The Wire Seasons 1-5 10/10

I just finished watching the end of The Wire. I got a little weepy, mainly because it's really over. But I'm not upset on how it ended- oh no. They ended it perfectly. In fact if there's anything I can say about the The Wire, it's that it is perfect. I have enjoyed this show more than anything else. When I watched season 3 on HBO, and then went back and devoured 1 and 2, I realized that the rest of television- as a whole- is nothing. I love The Shield. But The Shield is a dumb cartoon compared to the wire. I love Lost- pure melodrama. I've never been to Baltimore, but I feel like I know it. I've never had any desire to have any part of law enforcement, but I respect it more watching this show.

I can't convince you to watch The Wire. I can tell you this- all told its approximately 60 hours long. And it isn't always easy watching. There's a lot of characters and situations to keep up with. But when its done, you'll be satisfied. You don't get all the answers at the end- there's no giant mystery to solve that isn't well wrapped up ahead of time- but you will know the kind of excellence that I wish all of the media we digest contained. It is a beautiful, wonderful thing in a sea of mediocrity, and for that alone, I'll never forget this show.


So, yeah. I liked it.

10/10

new Mac Pro math

I'm still waiting on my Mac Pro to arrive. It got me thinking about my first PC.

It was a 486-40, with 4MB of Ram, and a 180meg hard drive.

My new computer is a 8 core 2.8ghz, 6GB of ram, 2 hard drives totalling 980gigs.

The CPU(s) are 560 times faster. Just one of them is 70 times faster.

There is 1500 times more memory

And 5444 times more space on the hard drives.

I'm an old man in computing- that one was bought in 1991 or 1992, I believe. It's really quite stunning how far its come.

I'm not compensating, Really.

The era of the PC is over in my house.
This was not an easy decision- it is the most I've spent on a computer, ever. Here's why I bought it:

1. My PC likes to restart, especially when I'm in the middle of a video project. I have the auto save set to 1 minute now. I could probably diagnose the problem, but this was a clear sign that it's time for the upgrade.
2. I don't HATE Vista, but I don't like it either.
3. I have a Mac at work and coming home to my PC makes me sad.
4. Seriously. 8 cores. Do I need 8 cores? Probably not. But I have them. If you would like to borrow a core or two, I might be able to hook you up.
5. I spent 6 years editing on Adobe Premiere. I spent 4 months editing on the (Mac only) Final Cut Pro. I want to have Final Cut Pro's babies.
6. I can actually justify this as a tax writeoff.
7. For the first time since 1998, I will have a computer with a warranty that I didn't build myself.
8. A local dealer lopped about 200 bucks off the price.

So there. My computer is better than your computer. Deal with it. Embrace it. You'll have your day soon.

monthly feature: revenue

$3.13!

i'm back, baby!

cat integration complete

as my kitten was trying to claw my older cat, he was licking her. my work is done here.

the best advice i heard was to just throw them together and let them work it out. For the most part, that's what I did. I intervened a couple of times when it did not look good for her. But about a week ago, it changed. She sort of got the upper hand- I knew then it would be OK. He's not going to kill her, but if she doesn't realize he doesn't want those damn sharp kitty teeth, then he will let her know.

And that was this week in Cat Fancy blog.

My Pitch

Don't have an Xbox 360? Then you're missing out on chainsaw bayonets.

Peace. Sort of.

Cat Wars has been called off.

I'm not saying there's love all around, but I just watched my 7 week old kitten pounce on my 8 year old cat's belly. He was not pleased with this turn of events, but unlike what I would have expected on Saturday, he merely let out a hiss and a swat. She ran off, preparing for her next strike.

They aren't pals, but they aren't enemies either. I actually saw him letting her chase him.

This might actually work out.

cat wars

So i got a kitten. You can check out flickr over there to see her.

She's ridiculously cute- and yet at the same time an annoying friend who doesn't know when it's time to chill out.

My cat, Koba, despises her. There's hissing, swiping, and low growls that sound like they are coming from his deepest innards. It was very distressing, now its getting old. He cornered her once today, but other than that, avoidance seems to be his plan. I've yet to let them interact with me not around... I don't actually see that going well right now. So she's going to be confined to the computer room during the day. I look forward to the havoc she will create when left unattended.

I got her because of the usual "she's one step from death" sob story. I'm not saying I regret getting her. Well maybe a little. It has upset my house. And given me something new to be concerned with. Those are probably positives- I'll probably go out less, and spend less money. But it also makes me enter that scary prospect of being a cat person. probably too late for that one.

but she's a ton of fun, and i know it will get better.

it's got to get better.

right?

I'd trade the car wreck day

So I'm getting out of the company truck today and i step back. And theres a curb there. and my ankle goes sideways, and i land on my right knee.

and this basically happened 2 years ago, during disc golf. at least then there was a sweetgum ball to blame. this time there's nothing but sweet, sweet curb. i go get some alcohol (not the good kind) from engineering and pour it on my wound (which looks much worse than it is) and the engineer tells HR. The next 5 hours are spent in a Doc in a Box. Let's say, 30 minutes of treatment, 4.5 hours of boredness. Ipodless. DSless. Boredness.

My left foot is all kinda swollen to hell, and my right knee hates me. but nothing is broken. Thank you jebus.

I seem to like to have a good fall every now and then. I should look into learning how to land.

I don't really want sympathy or empathy. I'm just kind of pissed at gravity right now and needed to vent. I have way too much stuff going on at work for me to allow this to stop me in any way. It's very reminiscent of the accident in that it happens at the worst possible time. But you know, maybe there's a never a really good time for this.

Probably the worst part (and its I am sort of surprising myself by putting it out in internetland) is that above all, I'm embarassed. I am told that I put up a good front of being this allknowing asshole who never shows any weaknesses. Well to quote the Tick, Gravity is a harsh mistress. She is my achilles heel. Literally.

But thats not it. The worst part is that I did it. The accident, I can go to sleep at night thinking about that idiot in the minivan kareening down Montclair without a care to the world. But this, this is my doing. I could have parked in FOUR other places. I could have stepped up on the curb when i exited the vehicle- there was no reason to walk the narrow path between the vehicle and the curb.

motherfucker.

(sorry for all the cursing. i try to keep this clean for some reason, but its just not working today.)

The Vet

So I had to take my evil cat to the vet. Tricking him into the cat carrier was easier than anticipated, and watching the vet talk shit to my cat as Koba hissed at him was pretty funny. Koba was sitting there, ready to strike and the vet just tapped him on the head and said "You're not so tough" and Koba shut it down. It was over. Vet 1, Koba 0.

Before I got in, I got to experience the waiting room. Most interesting were the Pet People. The ones buying $100 worth of special dog food (a 2 week supply!) or the ones who sit next to me talking to their cat. In a baby voice. Now there's nothing wrong with talking to animals. But in public? with a baby voice?

The other moment I'd wish I'd had a camera for was when the vet stuck the thermometer up my cat's butt. The look on his face was priceless. I'd call it confused alarm/new sensation. He was happy to be home, and other than aging gracefully into a ornery bastard, perfectly fine.

Monthly Haul

$.35

ugh.

prediction: Pats 41, Giants 24