Christmas Time Has Come...Again
We spent Christmas Eve as we usually do by attending the candlelight service at church and opening presents. I received a digital camera, a sweatshirt from a highly-trendy store (*sigh* my sister picked it out with the goal of forcing me to conform to American concepts of sylishness), cologne, and some gift cards for various stores. I gave my brother my old digital camera, which works fine but cannot take very high-resolution photos, hence my reason for asking for a new one.
On Christmas day my brother and I went over to my parents’ house for a traditional turkey dinner and stocking emptying ritual. While everyone in my family took an after-lunch nap, I finished reading the excellent short story collection by Jhumpa Lahiri, Interpreter of Maladies. Soon after awaking, my brother decided to head back to his place, leaving me alone with my parents and sister (at that point, I was also ready to go home but did not want to offend my mom).
In the evening we played Scrabble. It has been quite awhile since I've played a board game, and oddly, it was actually pretty fun. The fun was only decreased slightly by the fact that Mr. Webster's fine dictionary does not include the words “Goosestuba,” “Cravestaxis,” and the Scrabble rules do not permit--due to a typo or editing oversight, I suspect--the use of common but archaic words such as “trofler” (old English word that means, er, something I can't recall), or words that are clearly foreign sounding, like “Lautreisee,” “Volgsrun” or “Corantoli”. My Dad's main tactic consisted of forming words like “was” and “go,” and though I skoffed at his inability to form words with more than 3 letters, his score was ahead of mine for most of the game. My Mom kept scoring 50 points per turn using X's and Q's. And yes, I lost.
Afterward we watched the always entertaining Hitchcock film Strangers on a Train, then I went back to my house to mess around with my digital camera. So this Christmas holiday turned out well. For the rest of Christmas break I plan to read a few books, watch some movies, and work, of course. I found a temporary job in the daytime in addition to my evening job at the library. Fun, fun.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Wow, it's been so long since I've posted that it took me a moment to recall my login password. This semester has been hectic, but finals will be over by next week, and I'll have time to relax.
A few weeks ago I moved into a new house with a couple guys. So far it's working out quite well. We just got internet last night, so now I don't have any reason to return to my family's house--well, except to see my family, of course, and maybe for the occasional home-cooked meal. My brother recently moved out as well and is living in a new house a few miles north of my house.
I'll post more in the coming weeks...hopefully.
A few weeks ago I moved into a new house with a couple guys. So far it's working out quite well. We just got internet last night, so now I don't have any reason to return to my family's house--well, except to see my family, of course, and maybe for the occasional home-cooked meal. My brother recently moved out as well and is living in a new house a few miles north of my house.
I'll post more in the coming weeks...hopefully.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
School, again.
School started...sometime in August. Dates are once again irrelevant. I wake up, go to class, go to work, do some homework, then sleep. I'm taking five literature classes this semester--a rather heavy load in terms of reading--but everything is going well. I have a few friends and acquaintances in my classes, including a girl I work with at the library.
I'm enjoying all my classes at this point, especially Shakespeare II and Literary Criticism. My American Literature I class is difficult to judge. The professor makes the class entertaining; he's originally from New York and bears a frightening resemblance to Woody Allen in voice and mannerisms. The first day of class, however, he made it clear that he hates teaching literature survey courses and especially hates American literature surveys. Hmmm. The class seems more like a history course than a literature course, since we're reading mostly non-fiction documents, such as the journals of Christopher Columbus and John Winthrop, Thomas Jefferson's Notes on the State of Virginia, Thomas Paine's Common Sense, etc.
Another class that I'm not sure about yet is British Literature III. I love the time periods we're studying (the Romantic period and the Industrial Revolution), but the professor's approach to studying the works we are reading irritates me. She has reduced our reading of the poetry of Coleridge, Shelley, Blake, Wordsworth, etc. to a hunt for Romantic themes. Exclusively. That's all we do. Every class, we "close read" (by our professor's definition) for glorification of nature, the supernatural, individualism, and "the sublime!"--the latter a theme which no one is clear on. Still, when called on in class it's easy to point out a line and yell, "look! This is the Sublime!" That answer always seems to satisfy my professor.
*sigh*
School started...sometime in August. Dates are once again irrelevant. I wake up, go to class, go to work, do some homework, then sleep. I'm taking five literature classes this semester--a rather heavy load in terms of reading--but everything is going well. I have a few friends and acquaintances in my classes, including a girl I work with at the library.
I'm enjoying all my classes at this point, especially Shakespeare II and Literary Criticism. My American Literature I class is difficult to judge. The professor makes the class entertaining; he's originally from New York and bears a frightening resemblance to Woody Allen in voice and mannerisms. The first day of class, however, he made it clear that he hates teaching literature survey courses and especially hates American literature surveys. Hmmm. The class seems more like a history course than a literature course, since we're reading mostly non-fiction documents, such as the journals of Christopher Columbus and John Winthrop, Thomas Jefferson's Notes on the State of Virginia, Thomas Paine's Common Sense, etc.
Another class that I'm not sure about yet is British Literature III. I love the time periods we're studying (the Romantic period and the Industrial Revolution), but the professor's approach to studying the works we are reading irritates me. She has reduced our reading of the poetry of Coleridge, Shelley, Blake, Wordsworth, etc. to a hunt for Romantic themes. Exclusively. That's all we do. Every class, we "close read" (by our professor's definition) for glorification of nature, the supernatural, individualism, and "the sublime!"--the latter a theme which no one is clear on. Still, when called on in class it's easy to point out a line and yell, "look! This is the Sublime!" That answer always seems to satisfy my professor.
*sigh*
Lazy, Lazy
Well, summer is over, and I did not post as much as I had planned to. I attribute this lack of posting to my laziness. Here are a few things that I should have mentioned (or at least elaborated on):
My brother graduated from high school, and I attended the ceremony at the Air Force Academy.
Josh and I attended Yvette's wedding.
I experienced jury duty for the first time.
.... And I went to Nepal. This last event, especially, would have made a really nice post if I hadn't put off writing it. I will eventually post some photos and stuff (once school slows down, i.e. around Christmas break).
Well, summer is over, and I did not post as much as I had planned to. I attribute this lack of posting to my laziness. Here are a few things that I should have mentioned (or at least elaborated on):
My brother graduated from high school, and I attended the ceremony at the Air Force Academy.
Josh and I attended Yvette's wedding.
I experienced jury duty for the first time.
.... And I went to Nepal. This last event, especially, would have made a really nice post if I hadn't put off writing it. I will eventually post some photos and stuff (once school slows down, i.e. around Christmas break).
Monday, August 08, 2005
The Dancing of My Soul, or, Life in the Gulag
At work the other night I had an odd experience:
I spent a long time in the audio/video section and noticed a girl wandering around. This rather attractive female approached me multiple times, and each time she hesitated. Perhaps she was unsure whether or not I was an employee, or maybe she was just very shy.
Finally she came up to me, said hello, then whispered so softly that I could not understand her. It sounded like, “Could you help me find a video on sholryplodsm?”
I said, “Sure! Um, sorry, what is the name of the video?”
Still whispering, she repeated more clearly: “Souls of Dancing.” . . . or perhaps she said, “Solzhenitsyn.” I really couldn’t tell.
I had two options: take her to the 792’s (dancing section) or take her to the 891’s (Russian authors section). Either option could have been disastrous. Suppose I had shown her the Russian authors section:
“Well, here we have videos on major Russian authors, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Dostoevsky, etc. I bet Solzhenitsyn is around here somewhere.”
She would have, potentially, given me an odd look and said, “I’m actually looking for a video on dancing called ‘Souls of Dancing,’ not a video on Russian authors.” I would have looked like a fool.
The other scenario could have been equally awkward:
“Here is our dancing section: ballet, belly-dancing, ballroom dancing, and um, other dancing type things. Souls of Dancing will be right here if it’s not checked out.”
She, hypothetically, would have scowled before informing me: “Solzhenitsyn is a Russian author, not a ballet dancer.”
My final option was to act clueless and refer her to a librarian, which I eventually did. Okay, I guess I had a fourth option—to ask her to repeat the name of the video again, which might have averted this whole confused episode, but I didn’t want to embarrass her.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Mt. Elbert
(14,433 ft.)
07-31-05
For our second fourteener of the summer we chose Mt. Elbert, Colorado’s tallest peak, and one of the easier fourteeners to summit.
My dad and I woke up at 2:30 AM, tossed our gear into the van, and drove to Dan’s house. Dan accompanied us on our trip up Gray’s and Torrey’s Peaks last summer.
On the 2.5+ hour drive, I dozed and listened to a book on CD (Lies, and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: a Fair and Balanced Look at the Right, by Al Franken—awesome book, by the way). We had a great view of Mt. Elbert and Mt. Massive from the highway right as the sun was beginning to rise. At 6:00 AM we started down the trail. The hike was nice and easy at first, if a little cold. A couple hours later we left the treeline and had some great views of nearby fourteeners, including Mt. Massive.
(Dad and Dan, with false summit #1 in the background)
I have nicknamed Mt. Elbert “the Mountain of Vile Deception and Trickery.” Elbert has at least two false summits. Just when I thought, “There’s the top! I can see it! We’re so close!” I realized that we still had a long way to go. Dan attempted to snowshoe up Elbert last year. A few hundred feet from the summit, he and his group had to turn back because the trail became impassable without crampons and ice axes. Because of his last attempt, Dan was able to warn us about the false summits. Even knowing that there were false summits didn’t help me much because I was still fooled by them.
(High-altitude insects bothered us most of the hike. They seemed content
to fly into our ears and nostrils instead of actually biting us, oddly.)
About a mile from the summit we noticed that clouds were rolling in. They did not look especially evil until we were half a mile from the summit and they turned an evil black and coalesced in a decidedly evil manner (oh yes, very evil). Dan, with his altimeter / barometer watch, didn’t think that the clouds would pose much of a lightning danger for at least another hour, so we continued on.
(Noon on the summit with evil clouds)
I was not convinced that we were going to be safe, so I ran on ahead of them. That last sentence sounded a little odd, so let me clarify: Since the trail was very steep at this point, Dan and my Dad had to stop often to rest. I was much faster than they were and desperate to summit, so I went on ahead. I pushed on and summitted about 20 minutes ahead of them. The clouds continued to build as I waited. Finally, they both made it up, we rested for a few minutes, took some photos, then headed back down.
(the actual summit)
La Plata's distinctive side seen from Elbert's summit
As always, we made excellent time on the way down. We rested in a shady area immediately inside the treeline and ate lunch. A few birds watched us as we ate, and one even ate out of Dan’s hand. The rest of the trip down is a blur of intense pain. My left leg did not want to keep going, so it often decided that it would stop for a rest while the rest of my body continued on. Of course, this was a bit of a problem. Without the aid of trekking poles to support me I would have fallen face-first a dozen times.
(Dad and I on the summit)
An important note: As any mountaineer—or even a casual hiker—knows, water is the remedy for many ailments while on the trail. Headache?—drink some water. Blurry vision?—drink some water. Falling down a crevasse?—drink some water (then get help). Water also prevents all of the aforementioned ailments, excluding falling down a crevasse, obviously, so I always drink as much as I can while on the trail. Unfortunately, that means that I have to go to the bathroom very often. “Find a tree” is a favorite suggestion of my Dad’s. Finding trees is quite easy while still in the treeline, but rocks give very little cover above the treeline. At one point I had to go so bad that I didn’t care if an entire troop of Girl scouts passed by.
Another note (of less importance): Dan and my Dad always use trekking poles when they hike. I used to think that using poles was a sign of weakness—like an old man having to rely on a cane or a walker to move around. During recent hikes, however, I have seen numerous twenty / thirty year olds using poles, so I thought that I would give them a try. Trekking poles can cost anywhere from $50 to $200 per pair, depending on how small they can telescope and the number of features they offer. I bought a $15 pair of ski-poles on sale at REI in March for our snowshoe trip up Quandary, and they work very well—even if they can’t collapse for easy storage. The poles help transfer some of the strain off my legs to my arms and shoulders. They were particularly useful on the way down from the summit; I would have fallen multiple times without their support. Poles are also great for poking things. I poked rocks, shrubs, odd-looking objects along the trail, and my Dad (to signal that break time was over). I will never do another fourteener without my poles.
(14,433 ft.)
07-31-05
For our second fourteener of the summer we chose Mt. Elbert, Colorado’s tallest peak, and one of the easier fourteeners to summit.
My dad and I woke up at 2:30 AM, tossed our gear into the van, and drove to Dan’s house. Dan accompanied us on our trip up Gray’s and Torrey’s Peaks last summer.
On the 2.5+ hour drive, I dozed and listened to a book on CD (Lies, and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: a Fair and Balanced Look at the Right, by Al Franken—awesome book, by the way). We had a great view of Mt. Elbert and Mt. Massive from the highway right as the sun was beginning to rise. At 6:00 AM we started down the trail. The hike was nice and easy at first, if a little cold. A couple hours later we left the treeline and had some great views of nearby fourteeners, including Mt. Massive.
(Dad and Dan, with false summit #1 in the background)
I have nicknamed Mt. Elbert “the Mountain of Vile Deception and Trickery.” Elbert has at least two false summits. Just when I thought, “There’s the top! I can see it! We’re so close!” I realized that we still had a long way to go. Dan attempted to snowshoe up Elbert last year. A few hundred feet from the summit, he and his group had to turn back because the trail became impassable without crampons and ice axes. Because of his last attempt, Dan was able to warn us about the false summits. Even knowing that there were false summits didn’t help me much because I was still fooled by them.
(High-altitude insects bothered us most of the hike. They seemed content
to fly into our ears and nostrils instead of actually biting us, oddly.)
About a mile from the summit we noticed that clouds were rolling in. They did not look especially evil until we were half a mile from the summit and they turned an evil black and coalesced in a decidedly evil manner (oh yes, very evil). Dan, with his altimeter / barometer watch, didn’t think that the clouds would pose much of a lightning danger for at least another hour, so we continued on.
(Noon on the summit with evil clouds)
I was not convinced that we were going to be safe, so I ran on ahead of them. That last sentence sounded a little odd, so let me clarify: Since the trail was very steep at this point, Dan and my Dad had to stop often to rest. I was much faster than they were and desperate to summit, so I went on ahead. I pushed on and summitted about 20 minutes ahead of them. The clouds continued to build as I waited. Finally, they both made it up, we rested for a few minutes, took some photos, then headed back down.
(the actual summit)
La Plata's distinctive side seen from Elbert's summit
As always, we made excellent time on the way down. We rested in a shady area immediately inside the treeline and ate lunch. A few birds watched us as we ate, and one even ate out of Dan’s hand. The rest of the trip down is a blur of intense pain. My left leg did not want to keep going, so it often decided that it would stop for a rest while the rest of my body continued on. Of course, this was a bit of a problem. Without the aid of trekking poles to support me I would have fallen face-first a dozen times.
(Dad and I on the summit)
An important note: As any mountaineer—or even a casual hiker—knows, water is the remedy for many ailments while on the trail. Headache?—drink some water. Blurry vision?—drink some water. Falling down a crevasse?—drink some water (then get help). Water also prevents all of the aforementioned ailments, excluding falling down a crevasse, obviously, so I always drink as much as I can while on the trail. Unfortunately, that means that I have to go to the bathroom very often. “Find a tree” is a favorite suggestion of my Dad’s. Finding trees is quite easy while still in the treeline, but rocks give very little cover above the treeline. At one point I had to go so bad that I didn’t care if an entire troop of Girl scouts passed by.
Another note (of less importance): Dan and my Dad always use trekking poles when they hike. I used to think that using poles was a sign of weakness—like an old man having to rely on a cane or a walker to move around. During recent hikes, however, I have seen numerous twenty / thirty year olds using poles, so I thought that I would give them a try. Trekking poles can cost anywhere from $50 to $200 per pair, depending on how small they can telescope and the number of features they offer. I bought a $15 pair of ski-poles on sale at REI in March for our snowshoe trip up Quandary, and they work very well—even if they can’t collapse for easy storage. The poles help transfer some of the strain off my legs to my arms and shoulders. They were particularly useful on the way down from the summit; I would have fallen multiple times without their support. Poles are also great for poking things. I poked rocks, shrubs, odd-looking objects along the trail, and my Dad (to signal that break time was over). I will never do another fourteener without my poles.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Summer Reading (So Far . . .)
Wedge’s Gamble
Michael A. Stackpole
83%
King, Queen, Knave
Vladimir Nabokov
89%
The Krytos Trap
Michael A. Stackpole
88%
City of Glass
Paul Auster
85%
Ghosts
Paul Auster
52%
The Bacta War
Michael A. Stackpole
81%
Oh, the Things I Know!
A Guide to Success, or, Failing That, Happiness
Al Franken
86%
Wedge’s Gamble
Michael A. Stackpole
83%
King, Queen, Knave
Vladimir Nabokov
89%
The Krytos Trap
Michael A. Stackpole
88%
City of Glass
Paul Auster
85%
Ghosts
Paul Auster
52%
The Bacta War
Michael A. Stackpole
81%
Oh, the Things I Know!
A Guide to Success, or, Failing That, Happiness
Al Franken
86%
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Quandary Peak (14,265 Ft.)
07-04-05
After a failed attempt to snow climb Quandary in March, my Dad and I were eager to summit the peak for our first climb of the summer. Shortly after 4:00 AM we packed our gear into my Dad’s car and set off. This time we were able to drive right up to the trailhead to park (last time there was too much snow). Surprisingly, the parking lot was not crowded. Holidays are always terrible days to climb if you’re looking for solitude, but we encountered far fewer people than I expected.
(Quandary Peak, as seen from Hoosier Pass)
We were both glad that we had packed jackets and long pants because it was quite cold. My hands froze up after only ten minutes of hiking and did not function very well until we left the treeline and the sun warmed us up. We were able to shed our jackets---for a little while at least.
The trail was much easier to follow this time since it was not covered in a few feet of snow. The most popular—and easiest—route to Quandary’s summit in years past was via the Monte Cristo trail. A few years ago the Colorado Fourteener Initiative closed down the old trail for landscape restoration. We saw the old trail branching off from the new one, and I immediately understood the mistake we made during our snow climb; we lost the new, well-marked trail and followed the old trail until we eventually lost it and began trailblazing up a 45 degree slope. We were, in fact, actually on Mt. Quandary the entire time and not mistakenly on Mt. Wheeler, as I thought when I wrote about our last attempt. So we’re not completely inept hikers, it seems. We did, however, take a much harder route for the snow climb, which is why we ultimately failed.
The trail became more difficult once we entered a boulder field. It was not as long or rough as the boulder field on Mt. of the Holy Cross, but it was still interminable and rough on the feet. I spotted a female mountain goat with a baby by her side, but some hikers in front of us had brought three dogs with them. The dogs began chasing the mountain goats until they dashed out of sight over a ridge. I was irritated with the other hikers and their dogs since I’ve always wanted to take some close-up photos of mountain goats. Another lost opportunity. Oh well.
The final 150 to 200 feet of the ascent to the summit slowed us down. Slushy snow covered the rocks and made us slip around, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable since slipping a little to far to either side would mean a three hundred foot tumble down the side of the mountain. The wind began to increase at that point, which did not help anything. My Dad had his trekking poles, so he negotiated the snow almost effortlessly. I had a harder time but eventually made it to the summit after a few minor slips.
From the summit we had a beautiful view of three peaks we climbed last summer: Mt. Democrat, Mt. Lincoln, and Mt. Bross. The wind on the summit was some of the strongest I’ve ever encountered. We ducked behind some boulders and rested for a few minutes before heading back down.
(From left to right: Bross, Lincoln, Democrat)
(View from the summit)
As always, the descent goes extremely faster. For a while. The boulder field killed my feet on the way down, and by the time we reached the treeline my legs were trembling. We were back into the trees before noon right as dark clouds began to cover the summit. Despite the obvious presence of storm clouds about the summit, we still passed numerous hikers just beginning their ascent. Good luck to them all—I thought. I prefer not to screw around with storms.
Quandary is one of the easier fourteeners to climb, but it was still a challenge. I felt terribly exhausted afterward and was still sore two days later. It showed me that I can climb fourteeners when not in the best of shape, but being in better shape allows me to enjoy the experience more. I will work hard to get ready for our next climbs.
07-04-05
After a failed attempt to snow climb Quandary in March, my Dad and I were eager to summit the peak for our first climb of the summer. Shortly after 4:00 AM we packed our gear into my Dad’s car and set off. This time we were able to drive right up to the trailhead to park (last time there was too much snow). Surprisingly, the parking lot was not crowded. Holidays are always terrible days to climb if you’re looking for solitude, but we encountered far fewer people than I expected.
(Quandary Peak, as seen from Hoosier Pass)
We were both glad that we had packed jackets and long pants because it was quite cold. My hands froze up after only ten minutes of hiking and did not function very well until we left the treeline and the sun warmed us up. We were able to shed our jackets---for a little while at least.
The trail was much easier to follow this time since it was not covered in a few feet of snow. The most popular—and easiest—route to Quandary’s summit in years past was via the Monte Cristo trail. A few years ago the Colorado Fourteener Initiative closed down the old trail for landscape restoration. We saw the old trail branching off from the new one, and I immediately understood the mistake we made during our snow climb; we lost the new, well-marked trail and followed the old trail until we eventually lost it and began trailblazing up a 45 degree slope. We were, in fact, actually on Mt. Quandary the entire time and not mistakenly on Mt. Wheeler, as I thought when I wrote about our last attempt. So we’re not completely inept hikers, it seems. We did, however, take a much harder route for the snow climb, which is why we ultimately failed.
The trail became more difficult once we entered a boulder field. It was not as long or rough as the boulder field on Mt. of the Holy Cross, but it was still interminable and rough on the feet. I spotted a female mountain goat with a baby by her side, but some hikers in front of us had brought three dogs with them. The dogs began chasing the mountain goats until they dashed out of sight over a ridge. I was irritated with the other hikers and their dogs since I’ve always wanted to take some close-up photos of mountain goats. Another lost opportunity. Oh well.
The final 150 to 200 feet of the ascent to the summit slowed us down. Slushy snow covered the rocks and made us slip around, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable since slipping a little to far to either side would mean a three hundred foot tumble down the side of the mountain. The wind began to increase at that point, which did not help anything. My Dad had his trekking poles, so he negotiated the snow almost effortlessly. I had a harder time but eventually made it to the summit after a few minor slips.
From the summit we had a beautiful view of three peaks we climbed last summer: Mt. Democrat, Mt. Lincoln, and Mt. Bross. The wind on the summit was some of the strongest I’ve ever encountered. We ducked behind some boulders and rested for a few minutes before heading back down.
(From left to right: Bross, Lincoln, Democrat)
(View from the summit)
As always, the descent goes extremely faster. For a while. The boulder field killed my feet on the way down, and by the time we reached the treeline my legs were trembling. We were back into the trees before noon right as dark clouds began to cover the summit. Despite the obvious presence of storm clouds about the summit, we still passed numerous hikers just beginning their ascent. Good luck to them all—I thought. I prefer not to screw around with storms.
Quandary is one of the easier fourteeners to climb, but it was still a challenge. I felt terribly exhausted afterward and was still sore two days later. It showed me that I can climb fourteeners when not in the best of shape, but being in better shape allows me to enjoy the experience more. I will work hard to get ready for our next climbs.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Library Adventures, Episode 342: The Rare Book
While reshelving some fiction books this morning at work, I came across an interesting novel: an ancient hardcover book, smaller than a paperback. I flipped to the publishing info page and discovered that it had been published in 1892 in the Pikes Peak region. I can't recall the name of the author nor the title of the novel, but I had never heard of either. Stamps covered the first few pages reading "Property of the Public Library of the City of Colorado Springs"---the single library that existed long before the Pikes Peak Library District and its many branches. Not only was the book 113 years old, it was a first edition signed by the author to a friend named "Mrs. Clarke."
I immediately showed the book to a coworker who seemed unimpressed and told me that the library has plenty of rare books on the shelves. She showed me a particular first edition book that she claimed was worth a small fortune. I asked the obvious question: how can rare books such as these be available to the public?! The drooling, vulgar masses! The coffee-spillers who let their dogs trample and gnaw books as if they were chew toys! (cynical, I know). The only other option, she explained, would be to place rare books in the Archives at the Penrose library downtown where very few people could ever see them, much less read them. I thought that that sounded like an excellent idea and told her as much. She then made up a ridiculous hypothetical story to prove her point: a mother puts her children to sleep after a long day at work, makes herself a cup of tea, sits down on her couch, and reads a rare novel she checked out from the library. If the book had been in the Archives, this same woman might have been able to read the book---under supervision in the stuffy archives room where no comfortable furniture exists. My coworker was satisfied with herself. I tried not to laugh.
Soon after, I brought the book to my supervisor. Her reaction surprised me. She flipped through the book excitidedly, saying things like, "oh my!" and "this is amazing!" over and over again. The fact that a signed first edition was available for checkout shocked her as well (although she didn't mention anything about the vulgar masses). After a few more minutes of examining the book, she told me to send it off for review. Someone knowledgeable about rare books will examine the novel and decide what to do with it. Granted, it's not a first edition Hawthorne or Poe novel or anything, but it was published locally and is a part of Colorado Springs history. I'm betting that it will end up in the Archives.
While reshelving some fiction books this morning at work, I came across an interesting novel: an ancient hardcover book, smaller than a paperback. I flipped to the publishing info page and discovered that it had been published in 1892 in the Pikes Peak region. I can't recall the name of the author nor the title of the novel, but I had never heard of either. Stamps covered the first few pages reading "Property of the Public Library of the City of Colorado Springs"---the single library that existed long before the Pikes Peak Library District and its many branches. Not only was the book 113 years old, it was a first edition signed by the author to a friend named "Mrs. Clarke."
I immediately showed the book to a coworker who seemed unimpressed and told me that the library has plenty of rare books on the shelves. She showed me a particular first edition book that she claimed was worth a small fortune. I asked the obvious question: how can rare books such as these be available to the public?! The drooling, vulgar masses! The coffee-spillers who let their dogs trample and gnaw books as if they were chew toys! (cynical, I know). The only other option, she explained, would be to place rare books in the Archives at the Penrose library downtown where very few people could ever see them, much less read them. I thought that that sounded like an excellent idea and told her as much. She then made up a ridiculous hypothetical story to prove her point: a mother puts her children to sleep after a long day at work, makes herself a cup of tea, sits down on her couch, and reads a rare novel she checked out from the library. If the book had been in the Archives, this same woman might have been able to read the book---under supervision in the stuffy archives room where no comfortable furniture exists. My coworker was satisfied with herself. I tried not to laugh.
Soon after, I brought the book to my supervisor. Her reaction surprised me. She flipped through the book excitidedly, saying things like, "oh my!" and "this is amazing!" over and over again. The fact that a signed first edition was available for checkout shocked her as well (although she didn't mention anything about the vulgar masses). After a few more minutes of examining the book, she told me to send it off for review. Someone knowledgeable about rare books will examine the novel and decide what to do with it. Granted, it's not a first edition Hawthorne or Poe novel or anything, but it was published locally and is a part of Colorado Springs history. I'm betting that it will end up in the Archives.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Movie News
Kingdom of Heaven
2005
80%
(I watched the following movies on a flight from
Hong Kong to L.A. after a dose of sleeping medication --
ratings may not be accurate):
Melinda and Melinda
2004
59%
Hitch
2005
51%
In Good Company
2004
79%
Robots
2005
62%
Kingdom of Heaven
2005
80%
(I watched the following movies on a flight from
Hong Kong to L.A. after a dose of sleeping medication --
ratings may not be accurate):
Melinda and Melinda
2004
59%
Hitch
2005
51%
In Good Company
2004
79%
Robots
2005
62%
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Return
My Dad and I made it back home safely from Nepal late Sunday night. Since then I've been working in the evenings, cleaning up the house in preparation for the arrival of a few relatives, and trying to get over my jet lag. Kathmandu is 12 hours and 15 minutes ahead of Colorado, so I've had my day and night cycles reversed too much these past two weeks. I keep waking up at 2 AM and having trouble falling asleep for a few hours. In addition, I keep getting hungry at odd times during the night. Hopefully I'll be back to normal soon. In the next week or so I will post a trip report along with some photos.
My Dad and I made it back home safely from Nepal late Sunday night. Since then I've been working in the evenings, cleaning up the house in preparation for the arrival of a few relatives, and trying to get over my jet lag. Kathmandu is 12 hours and 15 minutes ahead of Colorado, so I've had my day and night cycles reversed too much these past two weeks. I keep waking up at 2 AM and having trouble falling asleep for a few hours. In addition, I keep getting hungry at odd times during the night. Hopefully I'll be back to normal soon. In the next week or so I will post a trip report along with some photos.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
"A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning"
Whew. It's been a tough week, and it's only going to get tougher--tomorrow my Dad and I leave for Nepal. We'll return Sunday the 12th, exhausted from jet-lag and ready for a few days of sleep (we'll both have to head back to work right away, and some relatives will be visiting a few days after we return, so we won't get too much rest). I've borrowed a nice, brand-new digital camcorder from my Mom's boss, and I'll take my digital still camera as well, so I'll be sure to get plenty of footage. Of course, I will post a trip report as soon as I can upon my return.
I wish I had time to post some news. In the past few weeks I've attended my friend Yvette's wedding, dozed through my brother's high school graduation ceremony (with a few surprises along the way), and experienced the drudgery and pain of jury duty for the first time. Before this month is over I will post about these events--they really are exciting, I swear!
Good luck to you all, and . . . stuff.
Movie News
My brother and I saw Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith on opening day, May 19th, at the 10:40 PM showing--the earliest showing we could attend since we both had to work in the evening. I enjoyed the movie very much. Although it cannot compete with the original trilogy, it is certainly the best of the recent prequels. My rating: 90%. For a well-thought-out, comprehensive, and at times entertaining review, check out Jared's site. We share the same opinions, overall, so it saves me from rehashing what he has already said (I'm lazy, I know).
Whew. It's been a tough week, and it's only going to get tougher--tomorrow my Dad and I leave for Nepal. We'll return Sunday the 12th, exhausted from jet-lag and ready for a few days of sleep (we'll both have to head back to work right away, and some relatives will be visiting a few days after we return, so we won't get too much rest). I've borrowed a nice, brand-new digital camcorder from my Mom's boss, and I'll take my digital still camera as well, so I'll be sure to get plenty of footage. Of course, I will post a trip report as soon as I can upon my return.
I wish I had time to post some news. In the past few weeks I've attended my friend Yvette's wedding, dozed through my brother's high school graduation ceremony (with a few surprises along the way), and experienced the drudgery and pain of jury duty for the first time. Before this month is over I will post about these events--they really are exciting, I swear!
Good luck to you all, and . . . stuff.
Movie News
My brother and I saw Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith on opening day, May 19th, at the 10:40 PM showing--the earliest showing we could attend since we both had to work in the evening. I enjoyed the movie very much. Although it cannot compete with the original trilogy, it is certainly the best of the recent prequels. My rating: 90%. For a well-thought-out, comprehensive, and at times entertaining review, check out Jared's site. We share the same opinions, overall, so it saves me from rehashing what he has already said (I'm lazy, I know).
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Reading / Movie News
The Book of Illusions
Paul Auster
94%
The Life & Times of Michael K
Michael Coetzee
86%
------------------------------
The Stranger
1946
92%
They Drive By Night
1940
83%
American Movie (again!)
1999
82%
The Book of Illusions
Paul Auster
94%
The Life & Times of Michael K
Michael Coetzee
86%
------------------------------
The Stranger
1946
92%
They Drive By Night
1940
83%
American Movie (again!)
1999
82%
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Excuses
It's been a long time since my last post. Yes, it has. Now I offer an excuse: I've been really, really busy. After all, college professors usually save the major assignments for the end of the semester, so I suppose that it's no real surprise. As the wonderfully entertaining stand-up comedian Brain Regan says in his "Stupid in School / Science Fair Project" sketch: "Oh no, that's due today! I had nine months to work on it and did nothing!" I've been having that feeling at least twice every day for the past three weeks. I have two more papers to write before finals week and then I can rest.
This summer will (hopefully) be extremely fun: my friend Yvette is getting married on May 20th; my brother will be graduating (. . . sometime); I'll spend a week in Nepal in early June; Jared and his girlfriend Rachel will come to visit (or so he says, but I've never completely trusted that shady fellow . . .); and I'll climb some fourteeners (of course).
I'll have to work all summer. I am now applying for a couple more jobs in the hope that I can make enough money to . . . keep working and making more money so that I can keep working and making more money (is there a point to this?!). I hate work, it's true.
It's been a long time since my last post. Yes, it has. Now I offer an excuse: I've been really, really busy. After all, college professors usually save the major assignments for the end of the semester, so I suppose that it's no real surprise. As the wonderfully entertaining stand-up comedian Brain Regan says in his "Stupid in School / Science Fair Project" sketch: "Oh no, that's due today! I had nine months to work on it and did nothing!" I've been having that feeling at least twice every day for the past three weeks. I have two more papers to write before finals week and then I can rest.
This summer will (hopefully) be extremely fun: my friend Yvette is getting married on May 20th; my brother will be graduating (. . . sometime); I'll spend a week in Nepal in early June; Jared and his girlfriend Rachel will come to visit (or so he says, but I've never completely trusted that shady fellow . . .); and I'll climb some fourteeners (of course).
I'll have to work all summer. I am now applying for a couple more jobs in the hope that I can make enough money to . . . keep working and making more money so that I can keep working and making more money (is there a point to this?!). I hate work, it's true.
Monday, April 11, 2005
WoW News (Only Incurable Nerds Need Read Beyond This Point)
Since my first post about World of Warcraft way back in November 2004, I dropped my dwarf paladin character and experimented with many other classes until I finally decided to stick with an Orc shaman. At the beginning of March, I hit level 40 with my Orc, and I prepared a post about it but never got around to actually posting it. As I write this, I am now at level 51 and hope to hit the level cap (60) within a month. To any of you thinking about playing WoW, I'm on the server "Dragonblight" (and if you want to play with me, you'll need to start a Horde character. The Alliance isn't cool, anyway). So, here is the post that I should have posted long ago (along with some screenshots):
-------------
After a few months of playing as an Orc shaman in World of Warcraft, I have hit level 40. I've been a member of the Kodo Clan guild since about level 19, an experience that has greatly enhanced every aspect of the game for me (and as of 04-12-05 we have a website: www.thekodoclan.com). My guild members are cool guys (and a few girls), and the higher-level people help me quest, share items with me, and raid Alliance towns. I have recently become an officer in the guild (basically the step below the guildmaster). Only 6 other people out of the 100 or so in our guild are officers, so it's pretty cool that the guildmaster and the other officers selected me to join their ranks.
The coolest thing about hitting level 40: I got to buy a mount. I had to save up my money even from level 1 to buy a Dire Wolf (it cost 90 gold), but the extra 60% boost in speed and the prestige of riding around on a wolf is well worth it. I followed this simple advice from the online comic Penny Arcade:
Foxtrot, one of my favorite comics, has also run a few strips recently about WoW (and please don't ruin your eyes! Click on a strip to make it larger!):
And now, for some random WoW screenshots:
Water walking is fun!
It's not a dress! I swear!
The Kodo Clan assembles for a raid on an Elf town
. . . Elves are no match for us
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Spring Break Movies
Raiders of the Lost Ark
1981
91 %
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
1984
95%
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
1989
93%
Dead Ringer
1964
90%
American Movie
1999
82%
Raiders of the Lost Ark
1981
91 %
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
1984
95%
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
1989
93%
Dead Ringer
1964
90%
American Movie
1999
82%
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Avalanche
As a footnote to my last post, I found this news story today (and if I ever die in an accident, I hope someone with better writing skills than the author of this article will report my death):
--------------
Avalanche Claimed the Life of a Colorado Springs Teacher Thursday
It happened Thursday afternoon near Quandary Peak, near Breckenridge. The avalanche triggered an extensive search for the victim. Officials said two people were skiing in the area, and one managed to ride out the snow slide. The other got trapped under the mound of snow. He is identified as -----------, 26 years old. He was a teacher at Liberty High School in Colorado Springs. Initial estimates indicate the snow was 400 feet wide, 2,000 feet long and 10 feet deep. The slide has triggered at least four smaller avalanches around it.
---------------
I'm glad that my dad and I turned back when we did or this news story could have easily been about us. It reminds me of the time we climbed el volcan de Pacaya: a couple of days after we climbed it, it sprayed lava a few hundred feet into the air and scattered ash for miles. Disaster seems to miss us by a small margin.
As a footnote to my last post, I found this news story today (and if I ever die in an accident, I hope someone with better writing skills than the author of this article will report my death):
--------------
Avalanche Claimed the Life of a Colorado Springs Teacher Thursday
It happened Thursday afternoon near Quandary Peak, near Breckenridge. The avalanche triggered an extensive search for the victim. Officials said two people were skiing in the area, and one managed to ride out the snow slide. The other got trapped under the mound of snow. He is identified as -----------, 26 years old. He was a teacher at Liberty High School in Colorado Springs. Initial estimates indicate the snow was 400 feet wide, 2,000 feet long and 10 feet deep. The slide has triggered at least four smaller avalanches around it.
---------------
I'm glad that my dad and I turned back when we did or this news story could have easily been about us. It reminds me of the time we climbed el volcan de Pacaya: a couple of days after we climbed it, it sprayed lava a few hundred feet into the air and scattered ash for miles. Disaster seems to miss us by a small margin.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Quandary Peak
3-21-05
Just so there’s no suspense: we failed. Not only did we not summit Quandary . . . well, I’ll leave the best parts for my narrative below. Yes, my first snow climb was not a success, but my Dad and I had fun, at least, and we gained experience for any future snow climbs we attempt. A few reasons for our failure: we are inexperienced winter hikers (i.e. zero experience). I really wanted to do something exciting for spring break while I had the spare time, though, hence the reason for the trip. This trip was certainly ill-advised in every respect: I checked 14ers.com for about five days to see how the weather would turn out. This morning before we left, the site said that there was a 70% chance of snow and up to 44 mph winds. I also called ranger stations to check up on road conditions, and one ranger suggested that we not hike because a road to the trailhead was impassible (that only added 0.2 miles to the total hike, so no big deal, but it was an indicator of how deep the snow was). At REI, while we were renting our snowshoes, a worker there thought that we shouldn’t hike if heavy snow was in the forecast. An experienced, wise mountaineer would have cancelled the trip at that point. I am neither an experienced mountaineer nor wise.
Winter hiking is incredibly dangerous. The threats of avalanches, frostbite, hypothermia, and simply getting lost or stumbling off a cliff are ever-present. I prepared by researching the type of gear to bring and then buying or renting it, reading up on how to avoid avalanches and what to do if caught in one, and checking forecasts and road conditions (which, as I mentioned, I more or less ignored).
We left out house at 6:45 AM this morning, a very late start if we were climbing a fourteener in the summer, but we figured that it would be alright since lightning in winter is rare. We drove to the trailhead a few miles south of Breckenridge and hit the trail at around 9:30 AM. We were well-prepared in terms of gear: snowshoes, ski poles, four layers of clothing, hats, ski goggles, matches, and more food and water than either of us could possibly consume (just in case we got trapped on the mountain somehow). Our packs were still fairly light, though. We were a bit too prepared because I was extremely hot the whole time; I guess I shouldn’t have worn so many layers. Since neither of us had waterproof boots, I had the idea to wrap plastic bags around our boots; it looked ridiculous, be we were completely dry for the whole hike.
Dad suits up
(yes, I look like a bank robber, I know)
Winter hiking is definitely a wonderful experience: the visibility was low the whole time, it snowed constantly (sometimes lightly, sometimes thick and fast) but the nearby scenery was beautiful, and as an added bonus, we didn’t meet a single person along the trail. The snowshoes only took us a few minutes to get adjusted to. After a few minutes of practice, they felt so much a part of my boots that I was barely aware of them (as the snow got a few feet deeper later on, they started to get hung up and became a bit of a nuisance).
Someone had hiked up the trail before us and left a nice set of snowshoe prints for us to follow. This was very helpful because the trail was not very well marked other than a total of four signs (no cairns at all).
While we were still in the tree line, I uttered such comments as “wow, I really like this better than summer hiking” and “this is a lot easier than I thought!” Once out of the tree line, however, our “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” hike became a “Lost on Hoth without Tauntauns and Blasters” kind of hike. As soon as we were out of the trees the trail and the footprints disappeared altogether. Without trees to shield us from the wind, we often had to strain to keep our balance. The visibility shot down to a few hundred feet. Snow began dropping quicker. At that point, with about four hundred feet of 45 degree slope in front of me, I began to wonder if we could even make it to the summit. We decided that we might as well continue up the slope even though we didn’t know if we were even close to the trail. After all, when you’re on a mountain you want to go up, and all the other possibilities led downward.
A long time after, the snow thinned and we reached the top of the talus slope and took a rest break. I was very disheartened when I saw that we had another slope even steeper and longer than the one we had just ascended. To make things worse, I could not see the top of the slope because it was covered in clouds. I told my Dad to stay there and I would scout ahead. I walked 100 feet or so when I heard what sounded like a thousand waves crashing against a seashore. My first instinct was to run in fright, but I did my best to stay calm. I am certain that it was an avalanche, but I have no way of knowing how large or how far away. All I know is that it scared the heck out of me and I knew we had to get off the mountain immediately. I proceeded back down the slope to my Dad and whispered to him that we needed to get down right away, and he agreed.
As we started down toward the tree line, the clouds cleared a little and revealed an enormous mountain across the valley from us. It looked so very familiar . . . and then I realized that it had to be Quandary Peak; when we had left the tree line earlier and lost the trail we must have really lost the trail because we were ascending Quandary’s neighbor, Wheeler Peak (a thirteener), by mistake! (Note: months after I posed this, I found out that we actually were on Quandary the whole time).
Me looking kind of goofy, oblivious to the fact that Quandary Peak is
actually right behind me and that we are on the wrong mountain (feel free to laugh)
We made it to the tree line in no time but couldn’t find the trail. I led the way through a thick group of trees until I finally spotted the trail. It was less than 100 feet away and we began walking toward it. The snow was extremely deep (over ten feet in drifts, we estimated with the help of our poles, and two to four feet everywhere else). My Dad fell into the snow up to his waist and couldn’t pull himself up for a long time. I kept taking a step, sinking nearly to my waist, struggling to pull myself out, then repeating the process dozens of times. So, it took us at least half an hour to go 100 feet (I hated this part of the trip most). The rest of the way down the mountain, once we were securely on the trail, was much easier. The snow was accumulating rapidly, and our footprints from the ascent were completely covered by that time.
Waist-deep snow even on one section of the trail
My Dad was getting tired. I heard a thud behind me and turned to see him lying face down in the snow, motionless. I was frightened until he started to laugh and stood up. Apparently he had crossed his snowshoes and tripped (this happened again ten minutes later with the same result).
We got back to our van and removed our snowshoes and a few layers of clothes then set off down the road. I was disappointed that we didn’t make the summit, but we were on the wrong mountain for half of the trip, anyway, so this trip was riddled with problems. I’ve discovered that when you are terribly lost, it’s a good idea to turn back and try again another time instead of risking getting even more lost. We had a fun backcountry winter adventure, neither of us got hurt, and we learned many valuable lessons that I hope to apply in the years to come.
Things to keep in mind for our next winter hike: bring a GPS and topo map with waypoints carefully plotted, don’t hike while it is snowing, bring someone along who has snow hiking experience, stay on the trail at all times, and above all turn back if the weather becomes too severe.
3-21-05
Just so there’s no suspense: we failed. Not only did we not summit Quandary . . . well, I’ll leave the best parts for my narrative below. Yes, my first snow climb was not a success, but my Dad and I had fun, at least, and we gained experience for any future snow climbs we attempt. A few reasons for our failure: we are inexperienced winter hikers (i.e. zero experience). I really wanted to do something exciting for spring break while I had the spare time, though, hence the reason for the trip. This trip was certainly ill-advised in every respect: I checked 14ers.com for about five days to see how the weather would turn out. This morning before we left, the site said that there was a 70% chance of snow and up to 44 mph winds. I also called ranger stations to check up on road conditions, and one ranger suggested that we not hike because a road to the trailhead was impassible (that only added 0.2 miles to the total hike, so no big deal, but it was an indicator of how deep the snow was). At REI, while we were renting our snowshoes, a worker there thought that we shouldn’t hike if heavy snow was in the forecast. An experienced, wise mountaineer would have cancelled the trip at that point. I am neither an experienced mountaineer nor wise.
Winter hiking is incredibly dangerous. The threats of avalanches, frostbite, hypothermia, and simply getting lost or stumbling off a cliff are ever-present. I prepared by researching the type of gear to bring and then buying or renting it, reading up on how to avoid avalanches and what to do if caught in one, and checking forecasts and road conditions (which, as I mentioned, I more or less ignored).
We left out house at 6:45 AM this morning, a very late start if we were climbing a fourteener in the summer, but we figured that it would be alright since lightning in winter is rare. We drove to the trailhead a few miles south of Breckenridge and hit the trail at around 9:30 AM. We were well-prepared in terms of gear: snowshoes, ski poles, four layers of clothing, hats, ski goggles, matches, and more food and water than either of us could possibly consume (just in case we got trapped on the mountain somehow). Our packs were still fairly light, though. We were a bit too prepared because I was extremely hot the whole time; I guess I shouldn’t have worn so many layers. Since neither of us had waterproof boots, I had the idea to wrap plastic bags around our boots; it looked ridiculous, be we were completely dry for the whole hike.
Dad suits up
(yes, I look like a bank robber, I know)
Winter hiking is definitely a wonderful experience: the visibility was low the whole time, it snowed constantly (sometimes lightly, sometimes thick and fast) but the nearby scenery was beautiful, and as an added bonus, we didn’t meet a single person along the trail. The snowshoes only took us a few minutes to get adjusted to. After a few minutes of practice, they felt so much a part of my boots that I was barely aware of them (as the snow got a few feet deeper later on, they started to get hung up and became a bit of a nuisance).
Someone had hiked up the trail before us and left a nice set of snowshoe prints for us to follow. This was very helpful because the trail was not very well marked other than a total of four signs (no cairns at all).
While we were still in the tree line, I uttered such comments as “wow, I really like this better than summer hiking” and “this is a lot easier than I thought!” Once out of the tree line, however, our “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” hike became a “Lost on Hoth without Tauntauns and Blasters” kind of hike. As soon as we were out of the trees the trail and the footprints disappeared altogether. Without trees to shield us from the wind, we often had to strain to keep our balance. The visibility shot down to a few hundred feet. Snow began dropping quicker. At that point, with about four hundred feet of 45 degree slope in front of me, I began to wonder if we could even make it to the summit. We decided that we might as well continue up the slope even though we didn’t know if we were even close to the trail. After all, when you’re on a mountain you want to go up, and all the other possibilities led downward.
A long time after, the snow thinned and we reached the top of the talus slope and took a rest break. I was very disheartened when I saw that we had another slope even steeper and longer than the one we had just ascended. To make things worse, I could not see the top of the slope because it was covered in clouds. I told my Dad to stay there and I would scout ahead. I walked 100 feet or so when I heard what sounded like a thousand waves crashing against a seashore. My first instinct was to run in fright, but I did my best to stay calm. I am certain that it was an avalanche, but I have no way of knowing how large or how far away. All I know is that it scared the heck out of me and I knew we had to get off the mountain immediately. I proceeded back down the slope to my Dad and whispered to him that we needed to get down right away, and he agreed.
As we started down toward the tree line, the clouds cleared a little and revealed an enormous mountain across the valley from us. It looked so very familiar . . . and then I realized that it had to be Quandary Peak; when we had left the tree line earlier and lost the trail we must have really lost the trail because we were ascending Quandary’s neighbor, Wheeler Peak (a thirteener), by mistake! (Note: months after I posed this, I found out that we actually were on Quandary the whole time).
Me looking kind of goofy, oblivious to the fact that Quandary Peak is
actually right behind me and that we are on the wrong mountain (feel free to laugh)
We made it to the tree line in no time but couldn’t find the trail. I led the way through a thick group of trees until I finally spotted the trail. It was less than 100 feet away and we began walking toward it. The snow was extremely deep (over ten feet in drifts, we estimated with the help of our poles, and two to four feet everywhere else). My Dad fell into the snow up to his waist and couldn’t pull himself up for a long time. I kept taking a step, sinking nearly to my waist, struggling to pull myself out, then repeating the process dozens of times. So, it took us at least half an hour to go 100 feet (I hated this part of the trip most). The rest of the way down the mountain, once we were securely on the trail, was much easier. The snow was accumulating rapidly, and our footprints from the ascent were completely covered by that time.
Waist-deep snow even on one section of the trail
My Dad was getting tired. I heard a thud behind me and turned to see him lying face down in the snow, motionless. I was frightened until he started to laugh and stood up. Apparently he had crossed his snowshoes and tripped (this happened again ten minutes later with the same result).
We got back to our van and removed our snowshoes and a few layers of clothes then set off down the road. I was disappointed that we didn’t make the summit, but we were on the wrong mountain for half of the trip, anyway, so this trip was riddled with problems. I’ve discovered that when you are terribly lost, it’s a good idea to turn back and try again another time instead of risking getting even more lost. We had a fun backcountry winter adventure, neither of us got hurt, and we learned many valuable lessons that I hope to apply in the years to come.
Things to keep in mind for our next winter hike: bring a GPS and topo map with waypoints carefully plotted, don’t hike while it is snowing, bring someone along who has snow hiking experience, stay on the trail at all times, and above all turn back if the weather becomes too severe.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Spring Break 2005
Today marks the first day of my spring break. I've decided to take three days off of work so I can relax and (hopefully) finish some homework. I have to read a 600 page novel, begin work on a research paper, and a few other assignments, but I'm sure I'll find time in between to goof off. On Monday I plan to do Something Adventurous, so if all goes according to plan and I don't die, I'll have an entertaining post with a few photos for Tuesday.
Today marks the first day of my spring break. I've decided to take three days off of work so I can relax and (hopefully) finish some homework. I have to read a 600 page novel, begin work on a research paper, and a few other assignments, but I'm sure I'll find time in between to goof off. On Monday I plan to do Something Adventurous, so if all goes according to plan and I don't die, I'll have an entertaining post with a few photos for Tuesday.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Reading News
A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters
Julian Barnes
72%
Beloved
Toni Morrison
82%
Jack Maggs
Peter Carey
95%
A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters
Julian Barnes
72%
Beloved
Toni Morrison
82%
Jack Maggs
Peter Carey
95%
Saturday, February 19, 2005
The Death of History
My old pal Jared recenlty wrote a post about the fact that many Americans have no understanding of American history. On a similar note, today at the library I overheard a grandfather discussing history with his two grandsons. They were browsing in the American history section and the kids wanted to know all about the Civil War. The grandfather said, "Well, the Civil War began all because of George Washington." It made me sad.
My old pal Jared recenlty wrote a post about the fact that many Americans have no understanding of American history. On a similar note, today at the library I overheard a grandfather discussing history with his two grandsons. They were browsing in the American history section and the kids wanted to know all about the Civil War. The grandfather said, "Well, the Civil War began all because of George Washington." It made me sad.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Mas Noticias . . .
(1.)
My dad is in Pakistan right now (he's been there for the past week). He'll be back sometime Sunday night with plenty of photos and stories. I'll try to post some stuff related to his trip soon.
(2.)
Lessons in situational irony: In my contemporary American and British novels class last week we were discussing The History of the World in 10 ½ Chapters (a fascinating, if somewhat unconventional novel). The professor was pointing out a few instances of Julian Barnes’ view on the concept of time when the clock on the wall behind my chair dropped to the floor and shattered at my feet. I think I was startled more than anyone since the clock nearly hit me.
(3.)
Another Valentine's Day has passed. Yes, indeed. In honor of this utterly worthless, greeting-card-company-made-up-day, enjoy this comic:
(BookSmarts)
(4.)
Very little is going on in my life right now, just the routine of going to class, going to work, then going to sleep, hence the lack of posts recently. Someday, perhaps this summer, I will do something exciting and interesting.
(1.)
My dad is in Pakistan right now (he's been there for the past week). He'll be back sometime Sunday night with plenty of photos and stories. I'll try to post some stuff related to his trip soon.
(2.)
Lessons in situational irony: In my contemporary American and British novels class last week we were discussing The History of the World in 10 ½ Chapters (a fascinating, if somewhat unconventional novel). The professor was pointing out a few instances of Julian Barnes’ view on the concept of time when the clock on the wall behind my chair dropped to the floor and shattered at my feet. I think I was startled more than anyone since the clock nearly hit me.
(3.)
Another Valentine's Day has passed. Yes, indeed. In honor of this utterly worthless, greeting-card-company-made-up-day, enjoy this comic:
(BookSmarts)
(4.)
Very little is going on in my life right now, just the routine of going to class, going to work, then going to sleep, hence the lack of posts recently. Someday, perhaps this summer, I will do something exciting and interesting.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
“Nothing and Everything” (2)
(1.)
In my Chaucer class on Monday, we had to select actors who would fit well in the roles of various pilgrims from the Canterbury Tales (it was just for fun). Literally ten people selected Brad Pitt for a role, and a few people chose teenage pop stars to play the Prioress (who in the Canterbury Tales is a very mannerly older woman). When my professor asked me who I would cast in the role of the Pardoner, I said Peter Cushing. I know him best for his role as Grand Moff Tarkin in Star Wars: A New Hope. He used to be in old horror movies, though, so I figured that at least one person, maybe only the professor, had heard of him. No one had. Peter Cushing, or perhaps Boris Karloff, would make a great Pardoner; both are lanky, cadaverous men, and they both have an air of evil surrounding them. Maybe I should have said Keanu Reeves or Ben Stiller just to fit in with everyone else. So, in short, I think I was the only person in class who chose an actor who could actually perform the role appropriately (subjective opinion only, of course). And I didn’t even mention the girl who thought that Jennifer Lopez would make a great Nun. Oh, the evils of popular American culture. Sigh.
(2.)
Maybe my college experience is skewed since I spent my first two years at John Brown University. I did have the impression, though, that most professors tried to respect the beliefs of their students. After all, we live in a postmodern society, and theoretically every belief should be equally valid as long as no one tries to force their beliefs on anyone else. Right? In the few class periods I have had in my contemporary novels seminar, the professor has managed to disparage the beliefs and practices of every major world religion. He also swears constantly. I’m not offended by swear words in movies or when I hear people talking in the mall or something (and I have been known to use one or two over the years, as most of my friends can confirm), but in the classroom, the realm of higher learning, swear words seem so vulgar . . . both in the modern and antiquated definitions of the word. I guess I’ve just come to expect my professors to use literary terms such as “tragic flaw” instead of “major f*** up” (and no, I am not making that up).
(3.)
This is a little crazy, but a photo of my dad is actually in this week’s issue of TIME magazine. No, he’s not Man of the Year or anything; there’s an article about the pastor of our church, and my dad happened to be standing near our pastor when the photo was taken. His back is to the camera, and the focus is on our pastor’s face so my dad is a little blurry, but it’s undeniably him.
(1.)
In my Chaucer class on Monday, we had to select actors who would fit well in the roles of various pilgrims from the Canterbury Tales (it was just for fun). Literally ten people selected Brad Pitt for a role, and a few people chose teenage pop stars to play the Prioress (who in the Canterbury Tales is a very mannerly older woman). When my professor asked me who I would cast in the role of the Pardoner, I said Peter Cushing. I know him best for his role as Grand Moff Tarkin in Star Wars: A New Hope. He used to be in old horror movies, though, so I figured that at least one person, maybe only the professor, had heard of him. No one had. Peter Cushing, or perhaps Boris Karloff, would make a great Pardoner; both are lanky, cadaverous men, and they both have an air of evil surrounding them. Maybe I should have said Keanu Reeves or Ben Stiller just to fit in with everyone else. So, in short, I think I was the only person in class who chose an actor who could actually perform the role appropriately (subjective opinion only, of course). And I didn’t even mention the girl who thought that Jennifer Lopez would make a great Nun. Oh, the evils of popular American culture. Sigh.
(2.)
Maybe my college experience is skewed since I spent my first two years at John Brown University. I did have the impression, though, that most professors tried to respect the beliefs of their students. After all, we live in a postmodern society, and theoretically every belief should be equally valid as long as no one tries to force their beliefs on anyone else. Right? In the few class periods I have had in my contemporary novels seminar, the professor has managed to disparage the beliefs and practices of every major world religion. He also swears constantly. I’m not offended by swear words in movies or when I hear people talking in the mall or something (and I have been known to use one or two over the years, as most of my friends can confirm), but in the classroom, the realm of higher learning, swear words seem so vulgar . . . both in the modern and antiquated definitions of the word. I guess I’ve just come to expect my professors to use literary terms such as “tragic flaw” instead of “major f*** up” (and no, I am not making that up).
(3.)
This is a little crazy, but a photo of my dad is actually in this week’s issue of TIME magazine. No, he’s not Man of the Year or anything; there’s an article about the pastor of our church, and my dad happened to be standing near our pastor when the photo was taken. His back is to the camera, and the focus is on our pastor’s face so my dad is a little blurry, but it’s undeniably him.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Snow Day!
Today is an official snow day for every school district in town, including UCCS (as opposed to an "unofficial snowday" when I just don't feel like going to school). So far, all I've done today is shovel snow and work on grammar homework. Snow days used to be the perfect time for sledding when I was a kid, but it seems that I've outgrown that pastime. Growing up is difficult. At least I didn't have to go to class, though!
Today is an official snow day for every school district in town, including UCCS (as opposed to an "unofficial snowday" when I just don't feel like going to school). So far, all I've done today is shovel snow and work on grammar homework. Snow days used to be the perfect time for sledding when I was a kid, but it seems that I've outgrown that pastime. Growing up is difficult. At least I didn't have to go to class, though!
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Life Begins Again
On Tuesday, January 25th, Jimmy Chamberlin released his first solo album: Life Begins Again. I first heard about the album online a few months ago, and since then I have been excitedly awaiting its release. Jimmy was the drummer for the Smashing Pumpkins, and I have always been intrigued and inspired by his skill. As far as I know, very few drummers (if any) have ever released solo albums, so this CD was even more interesting to me. My copy came in the mail a few days ago (and since I pre-ordered it from his official site, he autographed the cover. So now I have Billy Corgan's autograph and Jimmy's. Very cool).
Jimmy wrote all of the lyrics for the album, although he does not sing. Only five of the eleven tracks have vocals, at all, actually. The overall feel of the album is, as my brother put it, "peacefully chaotic;" sometimes Jimmy's drumming will sound insanely fast and complex, yet the background guitar and piano add a serene quality to the songs (it's impossible to explain until you hear a few songs). The songs that incorporate vocals sound like traditional rock songs, but the instrumental songs, for the most part, have a jazz-like quality (Jimmy began his career before he joined the Smashing Pumpkins as a jazz drummer, so I guess it's no surprise).
Billy Mohler (vocals, bass) and Jimmy Chamberlin (drums)
Billy Corgan provides the vocals for the song Loki Cat, one of the highlights of the album. This album is interesting on many levels, but the complexity of the drums on every song is what mainly fascinates me.
On Tuesday, January 25th, Jimmy Chamberlin released his first solo album: Life Begins Again. I first heard about the album online a few months ago, and since then I have been excitedly awaiting its release. Jimmy was the drummer for the Smashing Pumpkins, and I have always been intrigued and inspired by his skill. As far as I know, very few drummers (if any) have ever released solo albums, so this CD was even more interesting to me. My copy came in the mail a few days ago (and since I pre-ordered it from his official site, he autographed the cover. So now I have Billy Corgan's autograph and Jimmy's. Very cool).
Jimmy wrote all of the lyrics for the album, although he does not sing. Only five of the eleven tracks have vocals, at all, actually. The overall feel of the album is, as my brother put it, "peacefully chaotic;" sometimes Jimmy's drumming will sound insanely fast and complex, yet the background guitar and piano add a serene quality to the songs (it's impossible to explain until you hear a few songs). The songs that incorporate vocals sound like traditional rock songs, but the instrumental songs, for the most part, have a jazz-like quality (Jimmy began his career before he joined the Smashing Pumpkins as a jazz drummer, so I guess it's no surprise).
Billy Mohler (vocals, bass) and Jimmy Chamberlin (drums)
Billy Corgan provides the vocals for the song Loki Cat, one of the highlights of the album. This album is interesting on many levels, but the complexity of the drums on every song is what mainly fascinates me.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Spring 2005 Semester
I had my first classes of the new semester last week. Just to kill the suspense: I really like them all, and I'm certain that I will be sufficiently challenged (and at times overly challenged, I suspect).
Tuesday:
My first class was Chaucer, with Dr. Napierkowski. I've often wondered why UCCS would require all English majors to take a class on Chaucer: I read a decent portion of the Canterbury Tales in high school and did not find them to be particularly wonderful in any respect. The editions I read were in modern English, though, and Dr. Napierkowski stated again and again last week that all modernizations cannot even come close to representing the original middle English version. He even believes that Chaucer's poetry is superior to Shakespeare's. Having read Edmund Spenser's Faerie Queen two semesters ago in Renaissance literature, I'm used to struggling through every line, so I have a good idea of what to expect.
I had advanced grammar with the other Dr. Napierkowski afterward (wife of my Chaucer professor). I have never taken a grammar class before or even an English class that emphasized grammar (unless you count English IV in high school when we learned the difference between independent and dependent clauses). I am able to write a ten page research paper without a single grammatical error, but I only know the rules from analyzing the writing of others. I can't point to a sentence and pick out predicate . . . whatevers . . . and demonstrative . . . things . . . or recite the list of correct ways to use semicolons. This class will remedy that, hopefully. I can already tell after only two periods that it will be a huge challenge. The funny thing is that I'm not even required to take the course! I really want to, though, so when I graduate and tell people that I have a degree in English I will have the knowledge of the mechanics of the English language that everyone expects an English major to possess (if that makes any sense at all).
Wednesday:
Advanced composition at 8 AM? Am I insane? Yes, I must be to have signed up for a class that early, since I have to leave my house at 7 AM to get a decent parking place. Advanced comp sounds quite a bit like English IV in high school; I'll have to write tons of papers then get into a group with other students and discuss them. Sounds cool.
Directly after, I had a gen-ed class called critical thinking. The professor, a middle-aged, extremely short and up-beat woman, was entertaining even though the subject material was not. For one thing, she kept switching to a strong British accent every few minutes, and she constantly used British slang. She kept calling students "chap," and "old boy." I'm really not sure if she was trying to be funny or if she has some type of personality disorder. I dropped that class. I did so mainly because I can take care of that gen-ed requirement in another way, but also because every class period, each of the fifty or so students in the class will have to go up to the board and work out a logic problem from the homework. I can't image the tedium of watching fifty people take turns doing problems we already did for homework. The professor said, with all seriousness, that she wouldn't leave anyone out. Never in all her years of teaching had she forgotten to "let" a student come up to the board and do a problem. I could deal with the "fish and chips" crap from the professor, but the class itself . . . no further comments.
Now for the class that I'll most likely enjoy the most (because of the subject) and hate the most (because of the sheer amount of reading required): contemporary British and American novels seminar (it's a senior/graduate level class). We will read numerous novels, most over 300 pages and two or three over 500, then discuss them in class and write a 15 page paper near the end of the semester and do a presentation over it. I read two of the required novels over Christmas break thinking that I would really be ahead, but it turns out that I read the last two novels we will be reading, and according to professor Pellow they are by far the easiest we will read. Grrrr.
One great thing about this semester: my classes will be over by 12:05 PM every day, so I'll always have time to come home, eat, and do a little homework before I go to work. Also, I don't have any classes on Friday (also my day off of work).
I had my first classes of the new semester last week. Just to kill the suspense: I really like them all, and I'm certain that I will be sufficiently challenged (and at times overly challenged, I suspect).
Tuesday:
My first class was Chaucer, with Dr. Napierkowski. I've often wondered why UCCS would require all English majors to take a class on Chaucer: I read a decent portion of the Canterbury Tales in high school and did not find them to be particularly wonderful in any respect. The editions I read were in modern English, though, and Dr. Napierkowski stated again and again last week that all modernizations cannot even come close to representing the original middle English version. He even believes that Chaucer's poetry is superior to Shakespeare's. Having read Edmund Spenser's Faerie Queen two semesters ago in Renaissance literature, I'm used to struggling through every line, so I have a good idea of what to expect.
I had advanced grammar with the other Dr. Napierkowski afterward (wife of my Chaucer professor). I have never taken a grammar class before or even an English class that emphasized grammar (unless you count English IV in high school when we learned the difference between independent and dependent clauses). I am able to write a ten page research paper without a single grammatical error, but I only know the rules from analyzing the writing of others. I can't point to a sentence and pick out predicate . . . whatevers . . . and demonstrative . . . things . . . or recite the list of correct ways to use semicolons. This class will remedy that, hopefully. I can already tell after only two periods that it will be a huge challenge. The funny thing is that I'm not even required to take the course! I really want to, though, so when I graduate and tell people that I have a degree in English I will have the knowledge of the mechanics of the English language that everyone expects an English major to possess (if that makes any sense at all).
Wednesday:
Advanced composition at 8 AM? Am I insane? Yes, I must be to have signed up for a class that early, since I have to leave my house at 7 AM to get a decent parking place. Advanced comp sounds quite a bit like English IV in high school; I'll have to write tons of papers then get into a group with other students and discuss them. Sounds cool.
Directly after, I had a gen-ed class called critical thinking. The professor, a middle-aged, extremely short and up-beat woman, was entertaining even though the subject material was not. For one thing, she kept switching to a strong British accent every few minutes, and she constantly used British slang. She kept calling students "chap," and "old boy." I'm really not sure if she was trying to be funny or if she has some type of personality disorder. I dropped that class. I did so mainly because I can take care of that gen-ed requirement in another way, but also because every class period, each of the fifty or so students in the class will have to go up to the board and work out a logic problem from the homework. I can't image the tedium of watching fifty people take turns doing problems we already did for homework. The professor said, with all seriousness, that she wouldn't leave anyone out. Never in all her years of teaching had she forgotten to "let" a student come up to the board and do a problem. I could deal with the "fish and chips" crap from the professor, but the class itself . . . no further comments.
Now for the class that I'll most likely enjoy the most (because of the subject) and hate the most (because of the sheer amount of reading required): contemporary British and American novels seminar (it's a senior/graduate level class). We will read numerous novels, most over 300 pages and two or three over 500, then discuss them in class and write a 15 page paper near the end of the semester and do a presentation over it. I read two of the required novels over Christmas break thinking that I would really be ahead, but it turns out that I read the last two novels we will be reading, and according to professor Pellow they are by far the easiest we will read. Grrrr.
One great thing about this semester: my classes will be over by 12:05 PM every day, so I'll always have time to come home, eat, and do a little homework before I go to work. Also, I don't have any classes on Friday (also my day off of work).
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Reading News
A Coming of Age
Timothy Zahn
78%
Vengeance of Orion
Ben Bova
71%
No One Writes to the Colonel
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
65%
Rogue Squadron
Michael A. Stackpole
69%
Reunion
Alan Lightman
80%
The Photograph
Penelope Lively
67%
A Coming of Age
Timothy Zahn
78%
Vengeance of Orion
Ben Bova
71%
No One Writes to the Colonel
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
65%
Rogue Squadron
Michael A. Stackpole
69%
Reunion
Alan Lightman
80%
The Photograph
Penelope Lively
67%
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Movie News
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
2004
91%
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
2004
90%
Garden State
2004
88%
Meet the Fockers
2004
62%
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
2004
91%
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
2004
90%
Garden State
2004
88%
Meet the Fockers
2004
62%
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Texas Christmas 2004
This post will most likely be terribly boring. It is shorter than vacation videos, though, and I promise not to insert every detail.
Saturday, 12-25-04
We left for Lubbock around 8:30 A.M. The drive was not as bad as usual because I had my I-Pod with me; I basically had every good CD I own to listen to, as well as about 50 hours of old radio shows. Also, my Dad brought his laptop along, and we spent the last hour of the trip watching Seinfeld. We eventually made it to Lubbock, rested awhile at my Granddad’s house, ate dinner at my uncle Chuck’s house, then returned to my Granddad’s for the night.
Sunday, 12-26
I woke up late and wasted a few hours waiting for my good ol’ pal Jared to arrive. We went to Barnes & Noble and browsed their extensive collection of sci-fi and fantasy novels, as well as drama, philosophy etc. (a long-held tradition of ours).
Jared reads his favorite LeTourneau quotes
We met Joe and Jared’s brother Brett there, then Jared and I went to Hastings while Joe and Brett went to the theater to buy movie tickets for us. When we arrived at the theater, we saw four fire trucks and a mob of people standing out front. We called Brett’s cell phone from a nearby payphone and found out that the theater had just had some sort of electrical fire. We went to another theater and saw Meet the Fockers, then we returned to my Granddad’s house and ate a excellent dinner (i.e. mostly meat). We played poker and watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Dead Like Me, and Undergrads.
Joe, a.k.a. "Big Chips"
Poker made us all hungry, so around midnight we drove to McDonald’s. On the way there, Jared almost hit a dead German shepherd in the street. He seemed casual about the incident, but it really startled me (I was half-asleep after all). We watched a few more hours of TV shows then went to sleep.
Monday, 12-27
I started packing so that we could leave for Abilene to visit my Dad’s parents. I had a very difficult time waking Jared: I spent a few minutes calling his name and kicking his legs until I gave up and told Brett to wake him. Brett threw DVD cases at him then sat on his stomach . . . a cruel method, but Jared’s used to it (and much worse). The drive to Abilene wasn’t too bad: I took a nap for awhile then listened to radio shows on my I-Pod. We arrived, greeted my grandparents, ate a traditional Christmas meal, then opened presents (I received a nice wallet).
My granddad and my Dad try to fold a "Quillow," a crazy Amish invention
I’ve never liked going to Abilene, mainly because there’s absolutely nothing to do. I normally spend my time there watching TV and trying not to get irritated when my grandmother chastises me over using too many cups or wasting part of my meal. In the evening my Dad stayed to chat with my grandparents and the rest of us went to the world-famous Abilene mall. Joe and I looked around in a music store and a bookstore, and my mom and sister shopped for shoes. On the way back we grabbed some food from Wienerschnitzel (I had never eaten there before, but it wasn’t too bad for fast food). We parked in front of my grandparent’s house and ate in the van. My granddad is a health nut and he has gotten mad at us in the past for eating fast food. We threw our trash into a dumpster in front of the house so he wouldn’t get suspicious. As far as my granddad knows, no one in my family has touched fast food in ten years.
Tuesday, 12-28
I spent the day being bored, bored, bored, ad infinitum. I was so bored that I didn’t even feel like reading or listening to music. Joe languished in bed for a large portion of the day, until finally my Grandmother asked: “Joseph, have you been eating too much candy?” He got the message and got up to watch TV.
Making beds helps pass the time
I counted the hours until it was time to return to Lubbock. At least the drive back was nice and quick.
Wednesday, 12-29
Jared arrived around noon, and we drove to Rosa’s Café and brought back food for everyone. We later dropped a few suitcases off at his grandparent’s house and went to Best Buy. Brett met us there and we browsed the store for awhile. Jared drove his truck and Brett drove his 4-door Chevy back and for some reason they decided to race. Brett, of course, started it. In his desperation to beat Brett, Jared ran a red light. The light had been red for a good fifteen seconds or so, but Jared didn’t even see the light until we were almost through it (in his defense, it was a very strange intersection. I’m just glad we’re not dead). We went to Barnes & Noble again and spent a long time there: I used my gift card on books, and Jared bought a board game called “Dirty Minds.”
Joe and Brett played with us when we returned to my granddad’s, and we all had a great, if somewhat nasty, time. The gameplay mechanics aren’t very good: you have to answer questions and collect cards to spell the word “dirty.”
Brett, dirtiest of all minds
Jared won after about five minutes of play and proceeded to spell “dirty” four times before I had even spelled it once. It’s entertaining because the questions are so ridiculous; they all sound perverted but the real answers are commonplace items or professions, such as a light-bulb, manicurist, etc. Here’s a sample question:
- I try to do it with sheep.
- I try all night to get the right position.
- I only sleep in snatches.
Answer: insomniac
This is one of the more innocuous questions (some sound so dirty that I’d never willingly repeat them. Blame Jared).
Dirty, dirty
After dinner we all went to uncle Chuck’s for poker. It was awesome because my uncle had a real poker table and high-quality chips. My cousin Megan invited four of her high school friends over to play with us, much to my displeasure. At first I was extremely annoyed; the whole reason I had suggested a poker night in the first place was so that I could spend time with my uncle, my granddad, and Jared, but we had so many people that we split up into two tables.
Granddad and Joe, poker faces
Brett, my uncle, Megan, and I played against two highschool sophomore guys. My uncle lost all his money first, and I followed soon after. We were only playing for $5 each, so it wasn’t a big deal. I wandered over to the other table and watched everyone else for awhile. Joe lost all his money, then Jared. They both played well, but those friggin' highschoolers knew what they were doing. We left, and I later learned that one of the highschool guys came in first place. I can’t believe I lost my money to some kid I’ll never see again. How demoralizing.
The kid who took our money
Once back at my granddad’s house, I found a bottle of peach Schnapps in his pantry and poured myself half a glass. It tasted like cough syrup. As I tightened the cap back on the bottle, the plastic cracked. I wanted to simply place the bottle back on the shelf and pretend that nothing had happened, but Joe told me that I should confess. Over the summer Joe swiped a few cans of beer from my Granddad, and he didn’t want him to think that he was an alcoholic, hence his urging me to turn myself in so the blame didn’t fall on him. When my Granddad returned from the poker game, I told him about breaking the cap and he started laughing: he said that that bottle had been in his pantry for fifteen years! He hoped that I wouldn’t get sick from it. At least I wasn’t in trouble. We watched some of Amadeus, then Garden State, and finished up the evening with another episode of Dead Like Me.
Thursday, 12-30
I woke up early, packed, got Brett to wake Jared, then we drove home. It’s good to be back home!
This post will most likely be terribly boring. It is shorter than vacation videos, though, and I promise not to insert every detail.
Saturday, 12-25-04
We left for Lubbock around 8:30 A.M. The drive was not as bad as usual because I had my I-Pod with me; I basically had every good CD I own to listen to, as well as about 50 hours of old radio shows. Also, my Dad brought his laptop along, and we spent the last hour of the trip watching Seinfeld. We eventually made it to Lubbock, rested awhile at my Granddad’s house, ate dinner at my uncle Chuck’s house, then returned to my Granddad’s for the night.
Sunday, 12-26
I woke up late and wasted a few hours waiting for my good ol’ pal Jared to arrive. We went to Barnes & Noble and browsed their extensive collection of sci-fi and fantasy novels, as well as drama, philosophy etc. (a long-held tradition of ours).
Jared reads his favorite LeTourneau quotes
We met Joe and Jared’s brother Brett there, then Jared and I went to Hastings while Joe and Brett went to the theater to buy movie tickets for us. When we arrived at the theater, we saw four fire trucks and a mob of people standing out front. We called Brett’s cell phone from a nearby payphone and found out that the theater had just had some sort of electrical fire. We went to another theater and saw Meet the Fockers, then we returned to my Granddad’s house and ate a excellent dinner (i.e. mostly meat). We played poker and watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Dead Like Me, and Undergrads.
Joe, a.k.a. "Big Chips"
Poker made us all hungry, so around midnight we drove to McDonald’s. On the way there, Jared almost hit a dead German shepherd in the street. He seemed casual about the incident, but it really startled me (I was half-asleep after all). We watched a few more hours of TV shows then went to sleep.
Monday, 12-27
I started packing so that we could leave for Abilene to visit my Dad’s parents. I had a very difficult time waking Jared: I spent a few minutes calling his name and kicking his legs until I gave up and told Brett to wake him. Brett threw DVD cases at him then sat on his stomach . . . a cruel method, but Jared’s used to it (and much worse). The drive to Abilene wasn’t too bad: I took a nap for awhile then listened to radio shows on my I-Pod. We arrived, greeted my grandparents, ate a traditional Christmas meal, then opened presents (I received a nice wallet).
My granddad and my Dad try to fold a "Quillow," a crazy Amish invention
I’ve never liked going to Abilene, mainly because there’s absolutely nothing to do. I normally spend my time there watching TV and trying not to get irritated when my grandmother chastises me over using too many cups or wasting part of my meal. In the evening my Dad stayed to chat with my grandparents and the rest of us went to the world-famous Abilene mall. Joe and I looked around in a music store and a bookstore, and my mom and sister shopped for shoes. On the way back we grabbed some food from Wienerschnitzel (I had never eaten there before, but it wasn’t too bad for fast food). We parked in front of my grandparent’s house and ate in the van. My granddad is a health nut and he has gotten mad at us in the past for eating fast food. We threw our trash into a dumpster in front of the house so he wouldn’t get suspicious. As far as my granddad knows, no one in my family has touched fast food in ten years.
Tuesday, 12-28
I spent the day being bored, bored, bored, ad infinitum. I was so bored that I didn’t even feel like reading or listening to music. Joe languished in bed for a large portion of the day, until finally my Grandmother asked: “Joseph, have you been eating too much candy?” He got the message and got up to watch TV.
Making beds helps pass the time
I counted the hours until it was time to return to Lubbock. At least the drive back was nice and quick.
Wednesday, 12-29
Jared arrived around noon, and we drove to Rosa’s Café and brought back food for everyone. We later dropped a few suitcases off at his grandparent’s house and went to Best Buy. Brett met us there and we browsed the store for awhile. Jared drove his truck and Brett drove his 4-door Chevy back and for some reason they decided to race. Brett, of course, started it. In his desperation to beat Brett, Jared ran a red light. The light had been red for a good fifteen seconds or so, but Jared didn’t even see the light until we were almost through it (in his defense, it was a very strange intersection. I’m just glad we’re not dead). We went to Barnes & Noble again and spent a long time there: I used my gift card on books, and Jared bought a board game called “Dirty Minds.”
Joe and Brett played with us when we returned to my granddad’s, and we all had a great, if somewhat nasty, time. The gameplay mechanics aren’t very good: you have to answer questions and collect cards to spell the word “dirty.”
Brett, dirtiest of all minds
Jared won after about five minutes of play and proceeded to spell “dirty” four times before I had even spelled it once. It’s entertaining because the questions are so ridiculous; they all sound perverted but the real answers are commonplace items or professions, such as a light-bulb, manicurist, etc. Here’s a sample question:
- I try to do it with sheep.
- I try all night to get the right position.
- I only sleep in snatches.
Answer: insomniac
This is one of the more innocuous questions (some sound so dirty that I’d never willingly repeat them. Blame Jared).
Dirty, dirty
After dinner we all went to uncle Chuck’s for poker. It was awesome because my uncle had a real poker table and high-quality chips. My cousin Megan invited four of her high school friends over to play with us, much to my displeasure. At first I was extremely annoyed; the whole reason I had suggested a poker night in the first place was so that I could spend time with my uncle, my granddad, and Jared, but we had so many people that we split up into two tables.
Granddad and Joe, poker faces
Brett, my uncle, Megan, and I played against two highschool sophomore guys. My uncle lost all his money first, and I followed soon after. We were only playing for $5 each, so it wasn’t a big deal. I wandered over to the other table and watched everyone else for awhile. Joe lost all his money, then Jared. They both played well, but those friggin' highschoolers knew what they were doing. We left, and I later learned that one of the highschool guys came in first place. I can’t believe I lost my money to some kid I’ll never see again. How demoralizing.
The kid who took our money
Once back at my granddad’s house, I found a bottle of peach Schnapps in his pantry and poured myself half a glass. It tasted like cough syrup. As I tightened the cap back on the bottle, the plastic cracked. I wanted to simply place the bottle back on the shelf and pretend that nothing had happened, but Joe told me that I should confess. Over the summer Joe swiped a few cans of beer from my Granddad, and he didn’t want him to think that he was an alcoholic, hence his urging me to turn myself in so the blame didn’t fall on him. When my Granddad returned from the poker game, I told him about breaking the cap and he started laughing: he said that that bottle had been in his pantry for fifteen years! He hoped that I wouldn’t get sick from it. At least I wasn’t in trouble. We watched some of Amadeus, then Garden State, and finished up the evening with another episode of Dead Like Me.
Thursday, 12-30
I woke up early, packed, got Brett to wake Jared, then we drove home. It’s good to be back home!
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