XXX

Scott wrote this mid-afternoon:

Happy Birthday to Me, Happy Birthday to Me, Happy Birthday dear Meeeee, Happy Birthday to Me.

As I mark this milestone of turning 30, I notice this evening that I’m walking slower, my legs hurt, actually, come to think of it, everything hurts.

Now, possibly this has some connection to 7 hours of paintball today. And even if it doesn’t, I think I’ll blame it on that anyways. It was a nice day for it, sunny but not hot and with a cool breeze. The morning games didn’t go all that well for me, I kept getting knocked out really early, but for the afternoon games I either never got hit, or was hit near the end when I’d advanced to far into the other side of the field and some of those players had hung back, possibly waiting for me, but I’ll just chalk that up to that they lack the warrior spirit. Or were doing the smart thing and guarding their flag.

I was pretty much falling asleep on the drive home, so I’m going to go do that now, and will take the evening as it comes. I’ve been out the last two nights for various things, so I think it might be nice to stay home and watch Sunday night Fox stuff.

There had better not be any sort of basketball preempting what I want.

Meanwhile, in previous life

Scott wrote this at around evening time:

I have a new reader, hooray! Good job LinkedIn.

I actually had two network requests this week, from my two readers, so that was moderately interesting in the “I’d better update” kind of way. So, welcome Candice, who knew high school Scott and probably has better blackmail material than just about anyone who can currently find me. I mean emails, IM logs, all that’s easy to fake, but the potential of actual physical letters turning up from the pre-email era (when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, which was possibly just a bit ball of magma, as I vaguely recall), that’s just a whole bunch of potential trouble.

In other news, the move to Pasadena is pretty much complete, so probably no one will ever visit me again since I’m not next to Disneyland. *sigh* And I never did get my picture taken with Eeyore. On the plus side, so far the drive has been mysteriously better than the drive from LA. Possibly I’ve gotten a little better at picking lanes. Possibly the GPS function of my phone got enabled by a firmware upgrade a few weeks ago and it interfaces well with Google Maps Traffic telling me where I am, and where everyone else is stopped (Important note: Do not use Google Maps on your phone while driving, it says so right in the thingy you have to agree to before you can use it.)

It’s a good day

Scott wrote this in the early afternoon:

An afternoon off, and a Firefly marathon on the Sci-Fi Channel, thus keeping me from needing to switch DVDs and decide what episodes I want to see. Which was the original plan before I turned the TV on. What could be better?

kaboom?

Scott wrote this in the late evening:

When I got home tonight, I noticed the smell of gas in the apartment. This doesn’t concern me a lot, as there are typically 5 flames burning in my apartment due to various pilot lights, so if I’m smelling gas, it’s not at a level that is dangerous, or things would already have exploded. In any case, one of the pilot lights for the stove had gone out, which has happened a few times before, but does lead me to the conclusion that possibly the apartment is trying to kill me.

In related news, I’m moving to Pasadena over the next few weeks, such that the apartment can try to kill the next residents, or catch on fire, as it sees fit. Meanwhile, I will by spending my time on the various highways, hoping that other motorists catch on fire, but do so well off to the side where I’m not effected, or better yet, somewhere behind me and block that traffic off.

Pavement. It’s part of my balanced diet.

Scott wrote this mid-afternoon:

It seems that in-line skates and patches of mud hidden in the shadows at the bottom of a hill do not mix. Pretty much as soon as I saw it, I knew I was in trouble. Once one foot mysteriously jumped off to the side, the trouble escalated to…whatever it is that is after trouble, possibly missing time followed by assessment of injury.

Judging by the evidence of direction of scratches on my wrist guards, skates and pads and where I’m sore, and where the patches of mud are on what I was wearing, I have developed the following scenario.

I hit hands, knees, and toes first, off center towards the left. As those points caught on the pavement, I rolled over left hitting my left elbow and butt, finishing on my back, crushing the water bottle on my backpack, and since the backpack elevates me, hitting the top of my head on the ground.

No significant damage to anything, just a few scrapes and bruises. There are some pretty deep cuts in my knee pads though, which I’m thankful are not in my knees. Apparently I had a small tripod with me as well. Now I have a mono-pod.

Cloverfield

Scott wrote this in the late evening:

I’m almost certain there was a story in there somewhere, but it got kind of lost in the “someone put the Blair Witch camera work in a cement mixer.” It probably is pretty authentic of what would happen if you gave a camera to someone who has never seen one before and then had him flee New York, but an authentic documentary of what not to do with a camera may not have been the primary goal. I have a fairly strong constitution, but watching this movie made me feel like I’ve been on a really poorly maintained rollercoaster, suffering from headache and nausea.

Other than that, it wasn’t too bad. There was a big monster, things collapsed and exploded, people acted against their own best interests (ie the interest of not being killed) with predictable results. In general, a monster movie. And one in which I hope that somewhere out there there is someone who was able to watch closely enough, long enough to tell me what was going on.

On the plus side, there as a preview for Ironman, which could very well be an actually good movie based on a Marvel comic.

Accursed moisture, part 2

Scott wrote this terribly early in the morning:

There was a lot of rain last night. That is a pretty good thing, what would be better would be if perhaps the rain would stay outside. A mysterious lake of water formed at my computer desk overnight. Hopefully it was just a one-time kind of thing due to an unusual wind direction pushing the rain in through my door, because while having one’s socks suddenly become cold and wet is a good way to to shake off any remaining drowsiness, it’s not really the best option.

Accursed moisture, apparently

Scott wrote this in the early evening:

I think I’ve located the source of the mysterious flame color issue I’ve been having. If I keep my humidifier off overnight or so, they all burn blue again, and then go back to yellow when I have it on. So, it’s either the extra water in the air, or it’s something to do with the fine white dust suspended in the air due to my water having a lot of minerals in it, which is then left behind in the air as the tiny water droplets evaporate. I suppose I could buy distilled water and solve that particular problem; which I probably should do since the dust sticks to everything.

In other news, someone did notice that I got a haircut and said it looks good, so the drive up to Santa Monica for a free haircut paid off. Most likely other people would have noticed, but since the majority of people I see at work, I haven’t seen for 2 weeks due to holidays, so they probably forgot what I’m supposed to look like. Not that it’s really all that different, the primary thing is that there is no spiking up in the front, and more of a natural look instead of gel-based. I think I’m supposed to go back again the next time it grows out and have someone with a little more vision make suggestions. At this rate I’ll never fill out my buy 12 get the 13th free card at SuperCuts.

Haircut

New Year’s Changes

Scott wrote this at around evening time:

Foremost in my mind as to changes for the new year is “Why are the various flames in the apartment yellow instead of blue today?” The stove, the water heater, the furnace, all of them are giving yellow flames today, which is a sign that they aren’t being properly oxygenated, and thus aren’t burning completely. I’m somewhat curious as to where my oxygen has gone. I was even more curious as to if carbon monoxide was building up to kill me in my sleep, so I bought a detector, and it is satisfying my worries by displaying a nice 0 on its display. The manual says that 0 means less than 30ppm, which I’m ok with. Also it’s generally a good idea to have a detector anyways, so now I do.

Secondarily, I think 2008 is the year I finally finish my Yahoo personals profile I started a few years ago. Occasionally I log on and reactivate my email address and look at my profile with it’s large blank spaces where a title and some sort of descriptive text should be. Then I draw a blank and go do something else. At least 3 times that something else has been to go find a picture of myself to use for the profile. Then somehow I lose it, and have to find it again the next time. I think I’m going to have to start remembering to take a camera with me when I go places, and then have someone take pictures of me with it, since I don’t really have any pictures of myself.

Third-idarily, I’m sure there is something more pressing I should be promising, but I think I’m going with purchase clothing which does not have holes in it, and throw away the pieces that do. I’m very attached to my old clothes, but at the point where the holes have lined up through several layers, that’s where I draw the line.

My phone is a little promiscuous

Scott wrote this in the early evening:

So, I went into my contact list to get the info for the person who is using me as a guinea pig/hair model tomorrow so I could get the address, when what to my wondering eye should appear but at least 100 contacts I know nothing about. Apparently the contacts for someone who knows a lot of people in Moscow, Idaho and Spokane, Washington have found their way into my phone. Also Monsanto and some Biotech, which is at least close to what I’d have, but still, I’m curious as to where they came from. Bluetooth is off, so it wasn’t that. It’s only ever synched to my home computer, which I don’t think knows people I don’t. The only thing I can come up with is that maybe the IR transfer capability is active and somehow my phone was lined up with someone else’s sometime recently.