hail to the king, baby
01:39 AM
Here is the best of the pictures from Matt so far. I’ll update his photo page as I get them.
Here is the best of the pictures from Matt so far. I’ll update his photo page as I get them.
This recently made me sick, so I thought I’d jot the best part here for posterity: “So other than bad news, tonight was fn. Janet is feeling under the weather, but she came over and we played LOTR and Friends & Foes. We won with yet another military victory. This time it was in Mordor. We were not even trying for a military victory. But, it just sorta fell in our laps. Heh. Well, we are convinced that military victories are much easier when only two people are playing.” “So, Janet didn’t get into Muhlenberg. I’m sad about this. Yet, I believe it happened this way for a reason. So we have to trust in the Lord and pray that everything turns out in His will in the end. But what does that mean for us? We’ve said we want to get married next spring if she didn’t get into college. I’m still standing behind that. But for different reasons, our marriage may end up being delayed until 2005. Purely out jumpiness, I don’t want to wait that long. But we’ll see what we believe God is pointing us to, and we’ll attempt to act on that. So, I’m asking for prayer… Prayer so He’ll guide us. Right now, we’re sorta lost - and I need to be strong and supportive of Janet.
This guy, Daniel Ottey, is one of Maria’s friends and one of the biggest losers on the face of the earth, according to Chris. After this, I’m inclined to believe him.
A camping picture isn’t even worth a hundred words, because backpacking around New Hampshire for the weekend is about more than the scenery (though it is beautiful) or the workout (which is strenuous). It was great hang out with my home friends — or what’s left of them anyway. No luxuries, no distractions, no noise and no girls; just hard work and relaxation totally separate from the daily grind. It feels good to be back, even at work, but that probably has more to do with my three dozen mosquito bites more so than anything else. Well, that and Casper’s tonight. Anyway, the pictures can be found here, but the best ones are linked in the Camping section of the post since there were so many. (I kept the best 71 photos out of the 120 I shot, never again will I bring anything other than a digital camera.) Well, on with the stories.
Driving
I sat in traffic on Friday after working my ass off to get out before 2 p.m. Leaving at 2:45 was still pretty sweet considering the hellish day (though in an exciting, taking-care-of-business way) I had. I rode a wave of good fortune the entire way up: The sky behind me was dark and cloudy with the rain it was bringing, and in each city I hit traffic just as it was starting to get serious. I basically listened to The Onion Radio News spots and Bud Light Presents… jingles all the way up, and time passed pretty quickly.
The drive home was slightly more eventful, as I passed a speed trap literally seconds after deciding it wasn’t worth racing an SUV in fast lane who wouldn’t let anyone pass and slowed down to 75 mph. (The cop pulled out behind both of us, but meandered over to a weigh station instead.)
The drives in-between were definitely of note. First of all, my van performed spectacularly considering its un-spectacular condition, namely the still-plugged tire and still-welded oil pan thanks to events of the last camping trip. Besides a squeaky brake on the front left wheel (which probably means time for a new pad) and the recent addition of a permanently-on windshield washer fluid warning light, my part of the driving went off without a hitch. I wish the same could be said for Alex’s old Volvo, which could barely make it up hills or over 55 mph while floored. He even made the ultimate admission: “I never thought I’d say this, but I wish we had taken the RVan.” Boo-yah!
One last driving tale, which is scarier (to me at least) than the time my accelerator got stuck: I drove around Cambridge with my wallet on the roof. Apparently, I set it there while loading gear and clothes into the van after we got back and forgot all about it. It rode there on the five minute trip to Target along the bumpy streets of Massachusetts, and even hung out while we were inside for a few minutes. I would never have seen it since it was above the sliding door, but luckily Alex did. It took a while for it all to sink in and realize just how lucky I was — I had decided against going around a bus at a red light and a number of other things which could have sent my wallet soaring into an intersection.
Camping
We camped along Nancy Pond trail, located in the Pemigewasset Wilderness of New Hampshire. The trail was pretty easy compared to most of our other trips except for a one mile stretch of climbing, but it was definitely a great trail as far as sights are concerned. There were plenty of streams and rivers as well as a beautiful cascade, and as usual we didn’t run into too many people along the trail.
We set up camp next to a smaller pond in the middle of a mosquito-infested area (the whole damn forest turned out to be like this, actually) and I pretty much hid in my tent until it was late enough to start a campfire. It did a pretty good job of keeping the bugs away and of course was good for making s’mores.
The next morning we hiked a few hundred feet to a prettier lake with fewer mosquitoes that would have probably been a better place to stay, but we were so glad to be rid of the bugs long enough to refill our water that we really didn’t care. The pond had a natural dam at one end which was the head of a river, and it had a spectacular view of the valley below.
We didn’t have enough time to make it to the peak of the nearby mountain, so we settled for taking the trail down through the valley and to the road. It took us most of the day, and we battled mosquitoes the entire time. There were more sights along the way, like a path that went straight as far as the eye could see, a pretty flimsy wooden bridge, and a ton of frogs. We didn’t stop for very long anywhere because, well I won’t mention those damn bugs again. About 20 feet shy of the next trail junction, we set up camp for the second night and hit the tents pretty early to shoot the shit for a while and get enough sleep to head out early the next morning.
We struck out at around 8 a.m. and were on the road again, in the broken Volvo, by noon.
Other Stuff
Alex’s pad is pretty cool. It’s really unique, has a small yard in the back, and is more than enough space for a bachelor and his cat. Before I set out for Levittown we had a barbecue in the miniature back yard. Alex’s friend (and ex-girlfriend) Rebecca didn’t make it, but we hung out on Friday night so I got my R-time in. While getting supplies for the cookout, some chick asking for money to help “the children” (read: needy little urban achievers) tried to slow us down. Having just got back from a four hour drive, I wasn’t about to let some bitch talk my ear off. I was surprised though, when she replied to my “No, I hate children” with “Honestly, so do I. But…” Not surprised enough to pay her any attention besides a few good laughs, but I didn’t expect it just the same.
I have no ending for this.
It was all fun and games at Casper’s last night. Dia asked why Lara wasn’t forced to come and she was, but even Dia appeared to be having fun. Susan even bought us a pitcher “for taking care of [her] every week” — mighty kind of her.
We got in three good games of shufflepuck. Ross and I trounced Tim and Fulp in the last round of an otherwise extremely close game. We ceded our guaranteed winners’ spot so Dia and Mullen could take on the challengers, two Northeast Philly girls who were pretty bad. One of them was kind of cute, but when we were talking about what we do all day and the subject of colleges arose, she started talking about how one of her sons goes to Temple University. Not only that, but her other son was in college, too.
I did the math with one of my coworkers; we figured that if — in the best-case scenario — she had twin sons at age 15 and they’re only freshmen now, she’s at least 33. Adding two years for each of those variables means I was seriously attracted to a 40-year-old, and I wasn’t even drinking that much. I would have sworn she wasn’t older than 27, and everyone else was just as surprised at her son comment as I was.
I wonder if this means if I’ve been off about all those 13-year-olds I’ve been ogling….
After a normal speed Monday, things picked up into gear real fast. My new boss must have realized how slow things have been for me (not like I try to hide it, when I’m surfing the net at work) so he lent me out to the press room for the better part of yesterday. I can see how it gets boring as hell out there, but it wasn’t so bad for a day since it meant new skills for me. By the time I made it back into prepress, it was nearing the end of the day and work had piled up.
Most of the work piled up for today. As I was in ISO 9001:2000 training from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., I wasn’t planning on getting to it until the afternoon. That didn’t sit well with one of the other bosses, so I ended up working on both my breaks and half of my lunch hour on hot forms, booklets, and programming — a fine way to get indigestion. I have the same training all day tomorrow, so that means even more overtime (I’m posting while I wait for files to rip). Tomorrow will be just as hectic since there’s less work but an exam and group presentations as part of the seminar.
Thursday evening is the pink slip event in Malvern, and then Friday I leave right from work for Boston. I haven’t decided if I’m going to drive right to work Tuesday morning or come home Monday night first, but either way I’ll have plenty of traffic to deal with and little time to rest up for work again.
As a closing remark, whenever we host classes or inter-division meetings my company orders lunch. Some of my coworkers noticed that one chick who works here was stuffing salad into a Ziplock bag to take home with her. Needless to say, they were amused/disgusted by this and had a good laugh. Strange people ‘round these parts.
It was a weekend of barbecuing, as Dia and I drove home to Rudderow South to celebrate Lauren’s birthday and Father’s day. It rained a little on Saturday — hailed a little too, in fact — but the sun came right out again, not that it mattered to me sine I stayed inside after that anyway. One can never be too careful about losing their pasty white complexion.
We saw Finding Nemo that night following games of Werewolf (15 people with rotation…), and I was a bit disappointed with it. It was definitely fun to watch, but a little slow at times and not better than any of the other Pixar films. I also left my book in the theater.
The next day when we stopped by to pick it up on my way home, the assholes who were setting up the popcorn and candy ignored our knocking. Then they pretended not to hear our banging. Then they looked away when I pushed the automatic handicapped door-opening button (which only opened the inside door, so they could hear our knocking even better). What they could not ignore, however, is when I jimmied open one of the Exit Only doors from the outside and waltzed right into their little fortress of ignorance. They didn’t ask how we got in, but the looks of shock and wariness on their faces were priceless. I politely asked if they had a lost and found, and they, equally politely, helped me look around for my book. I didn’t find it but the 33-cent paperback was worth the mini-adventure. I wonder if anyone could just walk in any old time they wanted to — like after hours? I should really become a criminal with all these super powers.
On the way down to Maryland, we stopped by to have dinner and ice cream with Al and Mary, and on the way up we stopped off at Ben’s house for another barbecue and to play volley ball and badminton. I didn’t think I’d ever be the type to dive for a volleyball, and I’m still not. But I did, and it hurt.
Got a letter yesterday from the Law Offices of Bennett & DeLoneystating stating that they’ve been chosen to collect money from me. Back when I rented the U-Haul to transport my grandparents’ belongings from their apartment to their house, my dad returned the U-Haul without filling the gas tank. I figured the reason they kept a credit card number on file was so they could charge additional amounts as necessary; I guess I figured wrong.
I don’t have a problem paying the what I owe, but I wonder how much of the $41.50 they’re charging now is lawyer fees? I’m also really annoyed that I haven’t gotten a call from U-Haul themselves about this. I haven’t changed any of my contact information in the past two months, they should have contacted me directly first.
…
I just got of the phone with a U-Haul customer service bitch, and she says the first notice to the customer of non-payment is through this shoddy law firm. (I say “shoddy” because the letter they sent had incorrect variable data. As someone who does nothing but design form letters all day, I took great offense when I saw the vendor they used for their mailing addressed me as “Rudderow Bob”.) She says they don’t always charge the credit card on file, which sounds really stupid to me, but she took my card number this time and everything is fixed now. Seriously though, what a bunch of tards.
Game night was held at Dave’s on Saturday. He said feel free to use his place, and as Ross so eloquently said in his e-mail, “we’re feeling free.”
The main reason for having it over there was because Dave’s television is simply gigantic. Mario Kart on its ungodly screen was the way it was meant to be played. (Of course there were board games on the side; Al stole a Settlers victory away from me.) The other reason for having game night at Dave’s place was we could totally trash the place and not have to worry about cleaning up. I’m kidding of course, when we left it looked better than it did before I got there and straightened up a little. We kept the plants company for the evening and probably annoyed a neighbor or two but that was the point — burglars beware, people are not only home but having a jolly good time, too.
The highlight of the evening was playing Are You a Werewolf?, which is quickly becoming my favorite game. It took a little effort getting everyone interested in playing, but people quickly got on board once they learned the rules and saw the dynamic of it all.
Lisa said/wrote once that she missed dinner outings where we could enjoy eachother’s company without competing with eachother, and to a degree she had a point. That’s where Werewolf comes in. It’s exactly like the card/party game Mafia according to Fulp, and it’s easily the least competitive game I’ve played. Meaning no one cares whether they’re winning, losing, or sitting out for the rest of the game; it’s just as much fun to watch the action as it is to play. It was nice seeing everyone together even if for one night.
It was interesting seeing my friends swear up a storm in the same room as my dad, and even weirder waiting for him to react to all of it. He took it in stride though. Pat also stopped by after dropping his date off in Jenkintown, and Fulp was up from Atlanta one last time before he moves back here for good. Definitely one of the best Saturday nights I’ve had in a while, and hopefully it’ll happen again sooner rather than later.
Life just isn’t complete until you find something you’re passionate about. In my case it’s food, and in this case it’s donuts — I recently ordered boxers from the Krispy Kreme Web site.
If only it was as simple as ordering from other sites. I should know, I do it often enough. Last Tuesday I was in a bit of a hurry and didn’t look over the final summary page like I should have, so I missed a Web site programming/design flaw and ended up ordering my boxers in size “youth small” instead of the necessary XXL. 
(Check it out: the damn boxes don’t line up with the sizes on my Mac.) When I called up to ask about exchanging the boxers for the right size I hinted at getting a pre-paid envelope to save me she shipping cost. The hint was received but refuted, as the customer service jerck said it was totally my error for typing the number in the wrong box.
I was telling my story to one of my co-workers and she took pity on me. She put her mad arguing skills to use and three phone conversations later had them agreeing to send a FedEx guy over on Monday to pick up the wrong pair and drop off the right ones at the same time. I bet there’s a coupon for a dozen donuts in there, too.
I learned a few things yesterday while talking to Matt on Instant Messenger (ParrotheadPSU for anyone who wants to talk to our country’s greatest soldier.)
I don’t have to write letters to him anymore when I send out television shows. If he ever cared about them before, he certainly doesn’t now that he has e-mail and his blog up and running. I’ll miss writing letters but I’m certainly happier having him in live contact now and then. Since it takes six to eight weeks for mail to reach him as well, anything I write on paper isn’t worth much by the time it reaches him anyway.
He also says he loves to read about himself on people’s blogs. Done and done.
We didn’t discuss his comcast e-mail account, which appears to have been terminated, full, or both, but in other techie news he has an Iraqi router set up in his house so he has very little excuse for not being online more often. Come on, it’s not like he’s busy saving the world or anything.
Lastly, he finally shipped a package back to me: war trophies, posters, and some ammo shells. It’s about time his near death experiences started paying off for me.
Maria had her baby the other day, and despite the fact that her cats were clawing at her stomach as if in an attempt to weed out that which was most assuredly evil, Hager told me Wednesday that it is a healthy baby girl. Her name is Alice.
Their house is going to be done in a month or so, and I fully intend to present the happy couple with a single gift to include the wedding, baby shower, baptism (if that’s something they choose), and housewarming. It will be a substantial gift and enough to cover all the events, but I’m still worried about Maria’s wrath. I’ve heard stories about how ungrateful she was about receiving gifts that “didn’t even come close to covering the cost of the wedding.” She truly scares me.
But I wish the best for their union, their baby, and their new home, so I will just have to get over my fear for the sake of those three things.
This unluckiest of days belongs to Lauren, who is turning 24.
My birthday present for her is to reinforce one of the smartest decisions she has ever made, dumping Sherpadunce. I know I’ve spoken ill of him in the past and she’s gotten upset about it, but that was before she saw the light and kicked his sorry ass to the curb three weeks ago. She’s now seeing a one-time Triangle staff writer Steven Rodriguez, whom I don’t quite remember but Dia says was an okay guy before he quit after his first article.
The only problem is that I don’t think good old ex-Rob gets it yet that he’s no longer in the picture. Witness this e-mail he sent to my dad (and me, since the address Rob used forwards to me as well) today:
I wanted to say happy fathers day today! I know we never got to know much of one another over the past 3/4 year, but I wanted to let you know I appreciated your efforts in trying to know me better. In regard to my situation the “DAD” issue; I never knew I had an issue till I looked closer. I just wanted to say that I think your a Great person and I hope you have a Fabulous Father’s Day! Lauren is a wonderful woman and has many great qualities. She is lucky to have you as a father and friend. Lots of Love, Robert H. Mr. Rudderow
Awww, isn’t that sweet? Before someone gets upset that I’m posting letters I have no business reading, it was sent to my inbox and I am also a “Mr. Rudderow”, am I not? That’s what I thought. Boo-yah!
Our family had only disliked one of Lauren’s other boyfriends before (that would be Loren, before she turned him gay; after that he was quite a gentleman), but Rob took the cake as the dumbest.
Happy birthday, Lauren. I’m standing up behind your recent decision 100 percent.
Lisa babe, honey, dollface… I believe I posted how busy last week was for me despite how relaxing it should have been. I know it’s no excuse for forgetting to mention Tom’s barbecue to you, but hear me out.
I’m not going to resort to the simple response of, “I can sum it up in three words: ‘Get a car’,” as someone recently suggested to me. I’ll just say that it wasn’t my party nor my job to send out invitations, not that I would have necessarily sent them out to people without transportation anyway. Al specifically asked me what was going on that night and so I forwarded him the e-mail; the bastard didn’t show up anyway, so again the transportation issue arises.
Please don’t take this as a slant against you, because rarely is a gathering complete with you and Chris absent. I simply heard about the last-minute BBQ late Thursday night, rushed off to work the next morning, rushed to the gym that evening, and drove straight to Tom’s place. It was a whirlwind day but one that won’t ever happen again without notifying you first, car or no car. Seriously.
Greg tipped me off last night to the fact that Quark 6.0 was finally released. I took a look at their Web site today and I’m smitten. I doubt I’ll ever use the program to its full potential without The Triangle to work on, but I like knowing that it’s out there somewhere making real graphic designers happy. Eventually I’d like to get my hands on an illegal copy since I wouldn’t use it for anything except my resume without any real projects to work on. It would be nice to meld my existing knowledge and use of key commands with the new layout panels and text synchronization.
Now I’m not so excited anymore, a little more depressed if anything. It’s a shame I can’t get into anything more creative using Quark and instead work on insurance forms all day. It’s my own fault I’m content with the rut I’m in. I think I should start looking for another job in earnest now that I let myself have hope for that animation job only to have it dashed to pieces.
Went to Casper’s last night for a short time. Greg and I split a pizza and a pitcher of Miller Lite before Geof came in with Ben and Ankit, who isn’t 21 yet. Since Susan’s been carding everyone lately (she says the state police had been in there a few times), we bounced over to Krispy Kreme for some donut bukkake and 16-year-old girls hitting us up for dollars and smokes. They had some guys with them, which kind of spoiled any fantasies of ours they might have used to their advantage. Not that pasty-skinned red-heads with smoker’s coughs are appealing at all anyway.
I didn’t get the job. I found out last Friday from Sean, but the director with whom I interviewed hasn’t even bothered to call me back yet. Sean heard that I may be asked to work part time, but so far I haven’t heard a goddamn thing. At least I got my inside scoop in time to let the Orangewood Park Apartments know whether we were planning to stay or not.
It looks like we’re staying for the full year. It would be silly to waste our energy moving again since we’re settled in with Csoki Tej and all. Plus, I can still interview for jobs in the Philadelphia area without actually living in the rat-hole. Would have been nice to move to Conshohocken though….
Work here has been really busy. No time for blogging, e-mail or anything Internet related for that matter. Last week should have been spent recuperating from Dia’s parents’ visit, but no dice. This week I look forward to burning more television shows for Matt, watching more movies (Netflix is so cool) and other such nonsense.
It was the weekend of Are You a Werewolf, as the game steadily sweeps across the gaming crowd.
Friday evening we spent at Fulp’s new house, barbecuing on the back porch, drinking, and swapping gossip. Mario Kart was on deck, but we never got around to it once we started in on Werewolf. Al was supposed to join us, but he never even bothered to call, let alone show up; that’s the last time I waste my precious e-mailing time.
Saturday I spent watching Monsters, Inc. with my grandparents, then headed up 309 to North Wales with dinner for everyone who was working on the Websters’ house (Princeton Tim’s family). Since I definitely didn’t show up to do any work, we roped everyone into playing Werewolf with my dad’s help and Lauren even called her friend over so we’d have enough people. It was pretty much the same group who will be down in N.C. in August, so I have a feeling we’ll be playing a whole lot more when the time comes. I can’t shake the picture of Jamie crying over the game, though, and people seemed to agree that they could see it too. The highlight of the night was a 10 minute argument between me and my dad over who should be voted out in one round, and I ultimately got people to vote for him, as they should have since I was telling the truth. (Thanks, Mom.)
Boo-yah. The only thing better than reading books (and movies and video games and television and game nights and love and shopping for things that aren’t books) is shopping for books. I simultaneously get a nice flutter in my stomach and a pang of nausea at the thought of reading all these books in the next six months.
I used to promise myself to read such and such amount each day, or to have some amount done by a certain date, but that’s just stupid. I’ll get to them when I get to them, and they are mighty handy to have around when I’m waiting in line somewhere, eating lunch, or even sitting in traffic on rare occasions.
As you can see, it was a mighty haul, even bigger than Chris’s and largely because of his help. It was fun having my own personal book-buyer. Knowledge of books has always been his forte and I have no problem with deferring to his expertise. I have no doubt that I’ll like almost every one of them, too.
The Radnor book sale didn’t seem as cutthroat this year, but I still walked away slightly disappointed — some lucky guy found a first edition of Acquire by Sid Sackson for the usual board game price of $2.00. Still, it was more relaxing, so I should be thankful for that.