Doom’s World

I found a, um, certain person’s blog. A certain person from my past. I probably shouldn’t be reading this. But I am.

I LOVE fast food. LOVE IT. I don’t, WON’T care of it’s more composed of rBGH & HFCS than honest food by mass. I. LOVE. IT.

I tried to bake some more Cornish-esque pasties tonight (those things are awesome). But the filling mix had, after about two weeks in a Ziploc bag, gone icky. But the puff pasty (I didn’t want to attempt the proper crust, but since it’s apparently capable of keeping the filling hot, pasty intact for half a day AND not turn completely soggy, I totally should) was already thawed, so I just baked it. I think I independently discovered croissants. I ate about half of the big square of puff, with butter. Damn that was good.

I went to krav for the first time in a few weeks last night. I really, really need to stop doing that. Every time I resume krav after a pause I’m sore as hell. My lats and triceps feel like I lifted weights. And I got elbowed in the left temple. Actually I nearly got my eye torn out, more like. But there’s not much of a bruise. We did more ground fighting stuff. Man, I hate ground fighting. My partner last night must be a wrestler, because the first time I went (we were doing side mounts, for the UFC fans in the crowd), he chucked me off him so effortlessly I seriously wanted to just give up. But I didn’t. I soldiered on, took a lesson from it (don’t let him get his elbow under your hip!)

This post is brought to you by parentheses!

I hate actually having to work at, y’know. Work. Stupid tenants. I feel like I should blog more about work, but how much of it would any of you understand? I spent a few hours replacing compact flourescent (I never spell that word right) ballasts. Then I found more that the tenant hadn’t told us about. Happy me. Fortunately we ran out of spare ballasts, anyway. We’re getting complaints about a room with no airflow, because the zone’s temp sensor is in an unoccupied space that of course has no heat load (tho it does have a fancy man-sized stuffed zebra, no shit). So the sensor doesn’t call for cooling and since we’re a VAV building, it then doesn’t call for (much) airflow, even though the occupied spaces (with their heat loads) are now too hot.

See my point? (the solution is to lower the setpoint, btw, but the BAS seems to be resetting it).

At Rialto, um, this past weekend some time, I saw an ad for some 80’s metal collection. That got me to thinking of old songs and what did I rediscover but fucking Winger. WINGER! Miles Away is actually even better acoustic solo. Kip Winger has genuine musical talent, whodathunk? (Maybe he found it since his band got impaled by grunge, ps thanks, Youtube). I don’t know why I like that song so much. It certainly doesn’t recall any events from my life (no, really). But it always resonated with me. Maybe it’s my imagination and talent for story telling.

How was everyone’s 4th? Mine was low key. Most exciting part was discovering what happens when you load the ass end of your bike with beer and try to make sharp turns. You damn near fall over, if you were wondering.

Speaking of near death. Did I forget to tell everyone I almost electrocuted myself, um, last week? No, week before. I forgot to turn my circuit tester back on (why do they even turn off??) and cut into a live wire I thought was off. Oops. But it was only 277 volts. No biggie! Nice pretty spark, tho.

… sometimes. Not often.

But today, I voted, I cooked, I did laundry, I TCOB’d after hours (problem with A/C at work, made the calls, got it running).

Last week I went to krav and they were also testing. I don’t ever want to have to go through that hellish nonsense again.

… antsy. Hemmed in. Nervous.

About money. Duh. I’m going through money like water, it feels. There was the move in, of course, the new mattress I bought, and general stuff. I moved the day after payday, so it feels like I’m going to run out of money.

I’m not, of course. It’s just me being prudent. Or cowardly. Not sure what. I do have more dental work coming up. And my desktop is REALLY. FUCKING. SLOW. And my laptop dies occasionally. And my credit card balance is WAY higher than I’d like it to be.

I’m not used to this free time that my commute used to take up. And I’m not used to not having mom to talk to. I want to go have a beer, check out the new ‘hood.

It’s First Thursday, and I think the first of the season that the sun’s still up for. I see a line at the ballpark across the street, it must be the Beavers‘ opener. Leaving work there were tons of Pearl District hotties out and about. Really not an inducement to stay home.

Then I think, NO! Save! Conserve! You’re going out tomorrow, anyway

I should go to the gym. But I burned out hardcore on the gym a few weeks ago and I know that it makes sense that I should stick to 2-3 times a week. But the closet door is mirrored and the sight when I get out of bed in the morning. Yowza.

Okay, I’m done whining. What’s good?

I’m smiling. I’ve noticed it the past couple of days, I can definitely feel the corners of my mouth turned up a little bit. When I stopped cutting my hair super short, I noticed that the percentage of women who hurriedly looked away when I made eye contact dropped. Apparently smiling has the same effect.

Well, imagine that.

(this is where you all yell “dumbass” at the computer).

Okay, I’m gonna eat something, and read a little bit. Then I’m going to go downstairs and give the bar I’ve been leeching wifi from some money. Then we’ll see what happens.

… I’m not quite moved in. I have my bed, couch and kitchen stuff. And clothes. I have nothing resembling a table. Right now I’m computing and eating, well, I haven’t eaten in yet, but starting at breakfast tomorrow I’m eating at my highly truncated counter. Next weekend I’ll try to draft someone to help me move some tabley things.

I don’t have very much stuff. On one hand it’s gratifying, it’s good to not be cluttered. But this place does look empty. It’ll help once I have some horizontal surfaces. Maybe some stuff to put on the walls. But I never did at my old place in the Yards (wall stuff). Maybe I’m just a materialist minimalist, restricting my ownership to a few select, important things. Maybe I’m just a lazy slob. I dunno.

The couch is pretty sweet. It’s about the only thing I ever used my Target discount on. Other than food/drink for lunch/break. And I bought a new mattress out of sheer sloth. I just didn’t want to move the one at Mom’s house. I guess it’s the lazy slob option. Oh well.

I don’t even have my microwave up yet! (see aforementioned dearth of horizontality).

This would have been a lot easier if there was more public parking. And no hail. Still. It’s progress. That’s good stuff there.

2m 45s

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I thought I had a third one, but I guess I don’t. Lame attack.

1. Hot Fuzz was pretty good. Dude at work thought that “pretty good” was less than an enthusiastic endorsement. So let me be clear I laughed my ass off at moments, including things that weren’t obviously comedy.

Let me explain. Pegg/Wright productions function two, maybe even three levels. One is parody. This is what Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz are billed as, and they are. But the second is, well, the genre. SotD WAS a zombie movie and HF IS a buddy cop action movie. The maybe even third level is a commentary. I guess it could be a subset of parody, but I TOTALLY missed his on SotD, b/c I don’t like zombie movies. With HF I was catching all kinds of things that could be described as satire if not outright ridicule of action movies.

For instance, this really isn’t a spoiler, Nicholas Angel goes to the showdown covered in guns on a white horse. A white horse. I was the only one laughing at that, but it was fucking awesome because action heros are frequently presented so ridiculously that they might as well be riding into the climactic showdown on a white horse. Hot Fuzz makes explicit what the Bruckheimer crowd might not even realize they’re implying.

And that’s what caused, less than an hour after I got out of the theater. Hot Fuzz called for thinking. An action movie. You had to think! A lot of the humor was much more subtle than I expected, and there were also some conditions imposed by the commentary that I thought limited the action, but the boys have to go their way all the way.

Just like buddy cops.

Doom says check it out. I’m deffo seeing it again.

2. I honestly didn’t expected to write that much about HF. #2 is kind of underwhelming. Internship continues, the instruction is still coming to the fore now that I’m getting hands on. I spend much of Wednesday and Thursday tearing apart broken air conditioners which is a much more effective learning tool that I’d have thought.

3. Still nervous about the future. Honestly things are pretty rough right now, which is exacerbated by my crowded schedule.

4. Red Sox came back to make the hated Yankees their collective bitch last night! Le yay!!!!! I wonder if they’d let me wear my Yankee Hater hat at work tonight.

Okay, I gots to run. Will someone that’s reading this on their flist try to comment? Let me know if you don’t hear back from me in a day or two.