Christmas is the best time of year because people buy me things. What?...I like trees too!

This is my Christmas list:

Dilbert Flip Calendar
Subscription to ID magazine: click here
A Job
Headphones for my iPod (Like jb's)
Amazon Gift Cards
Morrison Coffee Maker with glass carafe: click here
If anyone's in Wicker Park in Chicago an Akira Gift Card
Daft Punk: Discovery : click here
Sideburns Trimmer: click here
The G.I. Joe Movie DVD: click here
Any Beirut album on Vinyl: click here
An Umbrella: click here
(not the one i necessarily want, but i would like a simple, black, quality umbrella...probably best if this one is returnable as I might be picky. Also of note is the giver must have thick skin.)
Cohen Brother's Dvd Collection: click here


Links are not suggested purchase points but merely included as points of reference and do not reflect the views and opinions of 20th Century Fox.

Thoughts on Fiction

For those of you who are fans or at least know Scrubs, you're familiar with the inner dialogue that is constantly going through JD's head, and in the show works as the narration. Well, it's become more and more apparent to me that I should also have a hit television sitcom. Ok that's not true, but as I don't really hang out with anyone but myself right now I've been more aware of the details to my thinking. And sure, everyone is always thinking about something, but my thoughts are more often than not a dialogue not a monologue. I realize that my mind views my life as a reenactment of actual events. I'm curious if this is just me and other narcissistic TV characters or whether most people are like this. Comments?

I recently read the complete X-Men: Age of Apocalypse Saga. While I've been fascinated with powers since I was a kid (I get a rush of excitement every time Peter Petrelli starts to use his powers again) , and the AoA series has always been of special intrigue to me. However, while I respect the genre and see why they need to include explanations in the conversation for new readers; I still can't help but smile when characters with the perfect power for the situation are always present. More so, I love how if the team were to come across an indestructible door with a lost key, the character who is able to morph his fingers into keys will not only be there, but the conversation will go as follows:

"If we don't get through this door in 15 seconds the entire world will be destroyed forever!"
"Um, guys...this might not be the best time to mention that my pocket has developed a large whole. This might not seem important but...well, I kind of had the key in that pocket, "had" being the most important part of my statement."
"I guess this is where Professor X's dream of mutants and humans living in harmony ends after all these years, not to mention the world in general."

At this point the mutant they call Keychain steps to the door, and while it seems prudent to just open the door before the world ends he adds...
"I guess fate had just this moment in mind when it made me an outcast in my own home and the suspect of every crime in my hometown. If I focus hard enough I can use the powers which allow me to form my fingers into a key for any door...including padlocks, car doors and even safe-deposit boxes"

At this point every other member of the team pauses to consider the fact that perhaps the accusations that were brought against him in his hometown might not have been ill-conceived.

As the door opens the unknown one in the group adds, "I am using my powers to predict the future to see that I think we might have pulled this off after all."


I got a little carried away but the point is I love how they always say what their power is before doing anything, or immediately after doing it.

What's in a Name?

An excerpt from the book I just finished....

"Varmint!" he would call from his bedroom, "Get in here, Varmint."
And I would drop whatever I was doing - which usually involved a hairbrush for one reason or another - and walk into his room, feigning an air of disinterest, but secretly thrilled.
"Yeah, what do you want?" I would say, in as superior a tone as I could muster.
My brother never called me by my actual name. He was seven when I was born, and from this moment on he called me Varmint. Because I idolized him in the fashion that younger brothers will idolize older brothers, no matter how freakish and defective they might be, I loved the name. When I asked him once, "What is Varmint?" he said, "A varmint is a small, furry animal."

This struck a cord with me, I guess it might start to explain why for most of my life I was known around the house as "boob". And just to be certain, the rule still goes that anyone outside of my family calling me this is open to having me metro-sexually kick their ass. Also, yes, I must admit that I do really like the name.

As Fate Would Have It...

I was finally able to finalize where I will be living down near Portland for the next month or so. Yes, I have to move out on Friday; yes I just finalized it on Wednesday...yes that is exactly like me. I'll be living in Wilsonville. Duh...Duh....DUUUUUUHHHHHH

Wilsonville

I traveled to Wilsonville, OR last week. You might begin to notice that I describe many things as "eerie", perhaps I am easily spooked, or perhaps I have a keen nose for things that do not seem right. Perhaps those are both the same thing. Regardless, Wilsonville was eerie. I was hungry and stopped by a Mcdonald's as I came into town. Nothing was strange about the restaurant itself but it was in a large strip mall with stores and other restaurants. There was not only this strip mall, but others everywhere I could see. Not eerie in itself but everything was brand new. Ok, fine. I drove around town trying to find the company, I for some reason had only written down the address and not the directions. I stopped for directions at the local post office, which was also brand new. I also drove by the police station which was a storefront in yet another strip mall, as if you could buy a cop if you needed one. (of course in this town you wouldn't need one...ever) I found the company and their building was brand new, and smelled like fresh carpet. Hmm, starting to get eerie. I found a different way to the interstate, passing yet again strip malls with new stores and brand new landscaping. This is when the eerie-ness of the place struck me, it was as if the entire town had the new-car smell. I could picture someone driving down I-5 for a weeks vacation in california and driving by nothing but fields, and driving north again to pass a fully developed community of happy consumers. I had visions of the Truman Show and Stepford Wives, and any other movie that has the same themes and feelings as the Truman Show and Stepford Wives. I don't want that job.

Dating Site

A friend of mine and I have come up with a flawless business model. We are going to make a dating site based on orphans. The main component is that many people hope their mate values their family...however, if that mate is not from the same region of the country or even the same country you can't both live near your family. (if that is important to you) Thus, marry an orphan. They will greatly value family, but the only family they have will be yours...problem solved. Also there is a great abundance of tag lines including those that feed off avoiding in-law conflict. I am currently seeking names for this service and am open to any suggestions. I'll keep you posted on the progress.

A Long Drive

It turns out that this is a long way to drive, but also very beautiful for the most part. Also I discovered that I-94 is slightly confusing going north out of Chicago, and it might not be wise to be talking on the phone while you transverse it. But I guess seeing 1.5-2 hours more of the country on an already 33 hour drive is not too bad...besides, southern Wisconsin is amazing, I didn't know that cheese actually grew on trees! I don't have a whole lot to report about that drive, the landscape is hard to describe and all at once amazing and depressing. Here are a couple of points.

I found myself very disappointed that the Twin Cities in Minnesota are not in fact twins. As a child I always pictured them as standing just across a river from each other and having identical skylines. This is not so. They are close to 10 miles apart and look very different. I guess that I would have assumed this in my aged wisdom, but I still found it very disappointing. The first night I stayed just past Minneapolis. The second day I drove almost exactly 1000 miles to Butte, Montana. I like to pronounce this (Boot-TAY), in actuality I have no idea how it is truly pronounced. You drive through a mountain range and then come out the back side and look down across the valley and Butte. It was beautiful, just like all those scenes in movies where the characters park and look "down at the stars", unfortunately I was not driving a classic yellow Cadillac or making out with some hot actress. It looked like this:



The next day I drove through the rest of Montana. I was driving through the mountains when I noticed that what I thought to be fog actually smelled like everyone in the state was burning their leaves and a few of them were burning their saunas. I realized that there must be a very large forest fire close to were I was, it made me sad but smelled delicious so I drove with my windows down for a while.

Idaho sucks. The mountains are nice but I was sick of driving in mountains and the construction didn't help matters at all. One thing of note was a small town I stopped in to get gas, the perfect picture of a small mountain town that hasn't progressed past the 30's, I think they still have gun fights in the streets.

Eastern Washington is no treat either, the only cool things were the dust devils that I saw all over the place and the fields that looked like rivers when the wind blew. The worst part was when I got within 15 miles of my destination but had timed it so that it happened at 4:30 Seattle time. Thus, with my bladder about to rupture it took 2 hours to go the final 15 miles.

Two things I forgot to mention and don't feel like trying to fit them in above. The gas station I stopped at in Butte was connected to a casino and the store was a small cash register nestled in among a vast liquor store, seemed funny to me. The second thing is I saw buffalo. I was driving past a large canyon and where it met the road there was a small hill. On this hill and facing the road was a huge buffalo standing there very stoic as though he were the guard who protected the door to the canyon. I thought it had to be fake...it wasn't. The thrill of seeing buffalo was later ruined by seeing a whole herd fenced in and sitting down to tea.

A Bee

Today was Aviah's birthday, and we went to science central and then had a picnic at Franke Park. There were quite a few bees that would constantly buzzing around our table. I don't mind bees and was fine to leave them alone. The bees began to get on the nerves of Aviah and Smith, and to be honest Andie was terrified so I was trying to catch a bee in my empty water bottle. Rach managed to get a bee and I asked for the bottle. Once I had it I commenced to shake it violently till the bee was deceased.

I was overcome with a great sense of remorse. It was honestly very hard for me for about 10 minutes, wondering why I didn't stop myself and wishing I could take it back. Jaret mentioned that we must have been raised by the same parents because we have the same strong sense of guilt. The more I thought about it I realized that when I swat a fly, or even if I had smacked a bee against the table I would have been fine with it. Something about the violent shaking made it worse. I guess I pictured myself dying trapped in a bottle and shaken until the impact had killed me. I'm sorry bee, I still regret my decision.

Metamorphosis

I was at the mall the other day because I wanted some Panda Express. I walked in and didn't know if it was such a good idea. I was in a mood that some of you will probably understand where you feel very socially awkward and the thought of being around people is hard, and the thought of running into someone you know is akin to purgatory for someone like George W. Bush. I wished I had sunglasses and my iPod so I could have tuned the world out and pretended that I was alone in the mall. But then again, Panda Express sounded very good. I ordered and looked for a table that would isolate me the most, I chose one next to a plant stand and some empty tables. The only person sitting close to me was an elderly woman who was situated as such:


The woman was not eating, just sitting there with her hands folded under her chin and a worried look on her face. I wondered if she was in a mood similar to mine and concerned by the fact that I sat down in a position where we were half-facing each other. As I was in the mood I was in I ignored her and pulled out my book. I glanced up at here from time to time trying to figure out if she was concerned, waiting, lonely, in pain, or some other thing. I don't know. I finished my meal and took one more look at the woman. To my surprise it was no longer a woman sitting there but a man of similar age and in the exact pose and facial expression that the woman had held. I had not seen the woman gather her things and leave or seen the man put his things down and sit. The table was clearly in my peripheral vision and this fact seemed very odd to me. It created in me one of those feelings that something is not right, but you can not point out what it might be, some would call this eerie, myself included. I wanted to leave badly, and did.

I figure they were long lost lovers who had decided to meet at the mall (as it has a carousel and is obviously very romantic) only they didn't specify eastern or central time and thus missed the chance to live the rest of their natural lives in the happiness that comes from true love (bull shit). It would suck to be old, also the plants weren't cacti as the drawing might suggest.

Argh!

Original Artwork

The one she did good on:


The one she got lazy with:

Airlines Lie

I forgot to mention one interesting fact about my trip. After getting into Seattle my luggage did not come out onto the belt. I went to the luggage desk and asked. Their reply.... "Oh yeah, we have that. It came in last night."

I have no idea.

All Good Things Must End: Part Five

The kids were 6 and 11, or somewhere close to those numbers. The younger one a boy, the older a girl. As we took off I could tell that the boy was a little bit nervous, and he said that this was his first time flying alone...rookie. I asked the girl if she was nervous and she answered a confident "no", and mentioned how tough she was. They were playing with really cool transformer toys and I was a little bit jealous. As the flight continued the girl told me more about how tough she is by letting me know that she regularly beats up other 4th graders, even the boys. I told her that it wasn't very nice, and she said that it was in fact nice. Oh.

They also had brand new crayons and colored pencils and a transformers coloring book. The girl had a way of shifting rapidly from somewhat of a brat to very sweet. She asked if i would like her to color a picture for me, and she did a very nice job on the charger from the movie. As she turned the page over to color the more complacted transformer on the back she did get a little lazy. After coloring a few parts she looked at me and said she was only going to make a gray mark on the parts that were gray (the whole thing)...after making dashes all over the page, she decided that maybe the spots could be rust? Sure lazy kid, just give it to me. I'll scan the page in and post it later.

The kids then started to ask me if I had seen movies...
"Pirates 3?"
-no
"Fantastic Four?"
-no
"Epic Movie?"
-sadly yes
And then they start to quote some sexual jokes from the movie and something about balls, and not the kind you play sports with.
(insert nervous and somewhat skeptical laughter from brett)
"Something else?"
-no
"Another something else?"
-nope
Then came the shocker...
"Texas Chainsaw Massacre?"
-um, no...wasn't that a little scary for you guys?
"Nope, remember...I'm tough."
(That is not a direct quote)
So these kids watch a lot of movies, and my they grow up fast these days.

As we came in for the landing as much as she tried to hide it I could tell that this was in fact one part of the flight that did frighten the young girl. I tried to ask her questions to keep her mind off her imminent death, and the plane landed safely. They waved a sweet goodbye to me as we left the plane.

There is something of a story in trying to find Messmann's apartment, but it's mainly about a cab driver who didn't know his way around (seems that should be part of the job), and finally getting to sleep in a bed (futon actually) knowing that I was finally really in Seattle (Renton actually).

The End.

Islamic Jews Just Can't Get Ahead in Berkeley: Part Four

So it was a night in Denver. I've always enjoyed grocery shopping in the middle of the night because the night culture is so interesting. It used to be a dream of mine to make a documentary about all those who shop at 3 am...find out who they are, what they do, and why they shop so such hours. The middle of the night at an airport is a different think, there is a sense of frustration and desperation in everyone; people frustrated at not being home, missing meetings, and the thought of sleeping on Herman miller. In aimlessly walking around i ran into a man who had sat near me on the flight. He was on hunt for some food and asked me to join, since I had nothing else to do and was hungry I went along. I also figured that someone to talk to would be nice. We wandered to the only open bar/restaurant in the place...Mesa Verde or something. I got chicken, he got buffalo. Yes, buffalo.

It turns out he leads a much more interesting life than I. He was a law student from California who used to be a contractor (i think). He was also a Jew, and his name was Avi. I learned that he was travelling across the country with a friend and his wife. The plan was that his wife fly home from Chicago while he and his friend drive back. Somewhere along the journey the two friends had a falling out and his friend stranded him in Chicago with a note that he had bought a plane ticket for Avi. Avi, being a proud man descended from Abraham refused to take the blood ticket and bought his own. (He was also skeptical that the ticket even existed.) That is how he ended up on our doomed flight to Denver.

A note on his wife: She is Islamic from Iran which according to him makes it very hard for them to travel in the middle east. When going to Islamic countries they don't like him entering, such as Egypt, he was held in customs for a few days (i think that was how long). When going to Israel and Jewish nations they are skeptical of her. Also, he met this woman while on a scuba diving trip in Fiji when she got caught in a current and he saved her life. When I asked if he uses this as bargaining rights in arguments he said absolutely, but it's beginning to wear thin.

After dinner we went to make sure our luggage had in fact been transferred (more on this next post) and then made our way back to the mesa to have a drink or two before we tried to sleep. I learned that he had six cars that he worked on or owned, and these were not clunker cars, maybe Jews really are all rich. I'm not racist, i promise...that was a joke. Or was it? Well, the most interesting story was perhaps his visit to a whore house in Mexico.

It was on another scuba trip and the instructor and he were the only single one's, the instructor could get to be a little much and all the others on the trip gave Avi $20 each to take him to a whore house to "settle him down" (it's for each to assume how he became "a little much"). They got into a cab, he said he had just the thing (hold your hand as an "L" when reading that wielands) and drove to town. Avi began to get nervous when the cabbie drove through town and out into the night. Ten minutes past town and he knew a mugging and desertion were eminent. However, the cab driver proved to be honest and dropped them off at "Pink". The instructor picked his girl and took the cab back to the hotel, although i have a feeling it was a motel. Avi was not forced to waste a few hours at Pink, being forced to turn down numerous Mexican girls with not too numerous teeth. He eventually found a new cab back to the hotel and drank by himself on the beach waiting for the room to be not so vulgarly occupied. When the whore came out, she offered him a go 'round. No thanks, honored though... He kept the money though, so at least he was paid for the experience. That is the end of my story regarding Avi.

I found a semi-dark, quiet place to sleep. It was looking out the windows of the terminal, in front of me was the main hall of Denver airport, the Glowing pseudo-mountain range of fabric and light. For a second I thought this might not be so bad. Then I woke up 40 minutes later sore and freezing. I slept on and off for a few hours and walked to a place farther from the windows, upstairs. I slept better...which is not say very much at all. I woke up early, got a cup of coffee and a double espresso, and waited once again.

When I boarded the plane, i was asked by the flight attendant to play uncle for a few hours for two kids traveling alone; sure, I mean the kids looked sweet.

End of Part Four.

Steven Jr.

I saw a bald eagle today...cool huh?

Waiting, or I couldn't Think of Anything Clever: Part Three

We pulled in line behind several jets, the pilot came on the overhead and told us that we were 7th in line; something to do with the warm weather, traffic at O'hare, storms out west, and some other shit made it so that at the moment no westbound planes were being allowed to take-off. She would keep us updated. They were so nice as to allow us to watch tv for free while we waited! I'm not sure how to express the slow passage of time, I guess you'll just have to imagine waiting on a plane unless you've been through it. A few hours later she announced that they were letting one plane take-off as a test to see how the weather was. An hour of so she reported that everything has being shut down and we were going to taxi back to the terminal to rest and get gas...they had never heard back from the test flight. i personally was wondering why a search party wasn't being sent out. Once back at the terminal we were told that we were were allowed but highly encouraged not to exit the airplane as any small opening in the storm system would be used to take off...hooray for us though, we were allowed to walk the jetway. As it had been almost five hours i thought i would try to rally some support for ordering pizza to be delivered to the plane. This proved not to be possible, there was plenty of support, but the security was worried we'd order exploding pepperoni or box-cutter bread sticks. The pilot told us that we was working as hard as she could at getting us some food (she failed) and the person at the gate (who was not sympathetic) told us ever three minutes about how we should not get off the plane, and how we would not be paid for a hotel in Denver, and how if we did choose to get off this flight we'd have to wait till thursday to get a new one. She ended every message with, "oh yeah, f#@k you." Not true.

Eventually they rushed us all onto the plane and said that another guinea pig (i swear that's what they called it) had been allowed to take-off. We waited for another hour and finally took off ourselves. I believe it was 8:30. The beginning of the flight was by far the worst turbulence I have ever experienced. I didn't really notice it too much till I realized I couldn't hold my book steady enough to keep reading. I looked across the aisle at a girl who was shaking violently and ready to burst into tears. I couldn't help but thing that she should save some distress for if anything did go wrong. If our engines gave out or wing fell off, she would have been unable to step her hysteria up a notch. We finally cleared the the clouds and the flight normal into Denver.

I spoke with the flight agent and of course, there were no flights to Seattle at 930 at night, thus the airport would be my home away from home. After purposely staying in a few airports in Europe i realized how awful an experience it is and swore never again. I also have said after each time I will never do a repair job for dad, but thus is life.

End of Part Three.

3000 Miles to Graceland: ChapterTwo

Kristina called her sister and as I feared as soon as the word "frontier" was spoken, so was "midway". Two hours till takeoff, chicago traffic...maybe i'm a little stressed now, and even more upset that I didn't print out an itinerary. I called stu to give me directions to midway and to make sure I was right about the flight. It took close to 15 tries for me to give him my correct password, (this was frustrating at the moment but does tell me I did a good job in picking it...also there is no way he would remember which is good because that would access everything) once inside he confirmed it was midway. Awesome. Stu was very helpful in giving directions and checking me into the flight so that they would not cancel my reservation. He told me to exit onto 451 (i made that number up), as we crossed over there was gridlocked traffic going our direction and the confidence that we were going to make it dipped somewhat. As circled the on ramp we saw the problem; a semi had taken the exit too fast and had overturned as it entered the highway...this in effect blocked all traffic before our ramp, thus the road was empty but for us. Thank you Jesus. We made it to midway with an hour to spare, and I got to my gate with 45 minutes till boarding. (Couldn't have made it without Stu, thanks again)

Relax, get on a plane, and enjoy the flight. We boarded and the pilot told us there was a little weather out west and it might be a 15 minute delay with traffic out of o'hare; however, she informed us she had heard that before and she was hoping it didn't turn into a jetblue situation. We taxied out to get in line and wait, it was 2:30 pm. Wait we did.

End of Part Two

I've only been here for 4 days and already have a police record

We ordered pizza last night. After waiting for the pizza for longer than we thought we should, we happened to open the door and realize they were trying to deliver it to our neighbors. Easy solution, we tell them it is ours. We ate, realized we ordered too much, and were watching tv when i get a call from dominos. It is the manager asking for our address as he is going to call the police on us. I ask why and he says that the pizza delivery guy said we told him we didn't order any pizza and refused to pay and take the pizzas. I inform him that we actually did pay and have are eating the pizzas. He refused to believe me and asked if I was just messing with him and trying to waste his time and mine (im not sure how it would have wasted my time, but might have been funny). Once again he asks for the address and talks of calling the police. I finally get to the point that he entered the address wrong but we got it figured out, and probably should have asked him if he thought it strange that the delivery guy showed up back at dominos with money and no pizzas, but unfortunately i simply stuck with cordial comments trying to explain the situation. He got it and hung up without apologizing. After I hung up, I thought of all these comments that I should have said to him but didn't think of, and ended up getting very upset, till i finally convinced myself to let it go. Seriously, who threatens to call the cops on customers? I did get the satisfaction of calling him a name as I hung up that I will not put here since my parent's are reading this...and soon, oh soon, we'll get our due revenge.

Perhaps Red is an Unlucky Color: Chapter 1

My trip to Seattle began in the same fashion as any other trip I take. I pack in the last few hours, thus taking more than I need so I don't have to make decisions, and making arrangements that will get me to the airport in plenty of time. So far so good. I woke up on time the morning of my departure and as I was loading up the van to pick up Jaret, I grabbed my portfolio and noticed that it had somehow been spilled on in my car and was now shriveled and spotted with yellow. Shit, not a good start but there has to be good print shops in Seattle. I shook it off and picked up Jaret when I said I would. Everyone knows that Jaret is a notoriously slow driver so obviously I had planned in some extra time for that. The drive to Merrillville went smoothly with good music and conversation. Nice little Indiana drive for two brothers who don't spent too much time together anymore.

We arrived in Merrillville and waited for half an hour for my friend who was going to take me to O'hare; this delay was fine as I had planned enough time into the trip to compensate for meet-up times and perhaps lunch in the city. The trip to O'hare went very smoothly and there proved to be enough time to stop at a very good deli near the airport that my friend knew about from her time working near there. We ate and then proceeded to O'hare. I was flying Frontier and we scanned the signs to find which terminal I needed to be at; Frontier was not listed on any of the signs. I figured that the primarily western Frontier didn't have many flights from Chicago and thus was trying to remember which larger airline it belonged to. Kristina was in the process of calling her travel agent sister to find out; I was silently cursing the fact I didn't print out an itinerary, as well as trying desperately to keep the word "midway" from crossing my mind.

End of Part One

Duck and Cover

As I prepared to move to Seattle, one of the things that excited me was the mild temperature both in summer and winter. (Although I enjoy extreme cold more than extreme heat) As Indiana crept towards the century mark, Messmann told me of highs in the low 70's. Messmann's a liar, or mother nature hates me; personally I hope it's the former. The beginning of this week Seattle was setting record temperatures, and as many if not most apartments in the area are not equipped with air conditioning people began to panic. I wasn't aware of the extent of the panic till we had the great idea to go to Fry's (If you've never been I can't even begin to explain) and pick up a portable ac. We were debating on the way whether these things even existed, with the logical minds arguing that ac's work by pulling out hot air, so if it sits in the room what could it do. The girl said she knew they existed. Point to Heather; as we left our car an eerie feeling came over us as we noticed every single cart in the parking lot contained a portable ac. I do not exaggerate, or at least not right now.

The feeling only increased as we walking into the store and peered down the 100 cheakout locations and once again saw a sea of ac's. I kid you not the first 40-50 people we saw were pushing these things around. There was a feeding frenzy in the isles as the workers could not bring the units from the back fast enough for them to disappear from the proverbial shelves. For the sake of honesty the others may not have sense the eerie feeling (i almost said "chill in the air" but caught myself) but I did, it felt as though there was an impending doom...flash back to the cold war, natural disasters, or fear of the "big one" when bread disappears from grocery stores and water is stockpiled. I've never been around people who didn't know how to deal with a situation like this. Maybe my imagination is a little bit too active, perhaps we're all doomed.

The cheapest one was $119.00. We went on being hot.

Author's Note

This is the story of my adventure into the pacific northwest, into the land of Palahniuk, Coupland, and Starbucks. I am going to get it out of the way and say that most of my motivation for writing this is so that i can keep those who are most dear to me close, feeling that as long as they know of my each and every action, they are not really that far from me. Except the truth is that the first three days had quite a few events that I felt were calling out to be blogged. I hate to admit that the first way I thought of to tell people was a blog. That being said, if nothing interesting happens, or I find myself blogging instead of writing in my journal...the blog must and shall die.

A second note is that the first and second posts I have planned actually happened in reverse order, but it feel too large a task at present to write about the trip, so I'm going to start with a trip to Fry's. That's it, and it's anybodies guess how long I actually write before I get tired, a wii is just in the other room after all.