..: schmeeve / a blog :..

Bust Out the Cock-O-Meter

Bust out the cock-o-meter. She's all mine now and I will do many dirty filthy and unspeakable things to her.

TV Listings [testing]

Well Stocked

Look what I found at work! And not being used!

Well Insulated

Came home today around 7. It's around, oh, 68 outside. Inside my house? 83.

Open windows do me no good when there's no breeze.

I does dawn on me, however, that since I'm not renting I could put a pool in my living room without any disclosure...

Nevermind, I know what I'm doing tomorrow.

Living room pool! Clothing optional! Any takers?

My Favorite 5 Days of the Year

Property taxes due today.

Income tax due in 5.

This searchable database over at the Chronicle really irritated me. Over 8,000 SF city & county employees are paid over $100k a year. A lot of that is overtime. A "special nurse" for the DPH was paid $117k base and $216k in overtime in 2007 netting $350,324. Cops, firefighters, DAs and bureaucrats fill out the ranks of the extremely overpaid. Why is this city insisting on making a Republican out of me? I mean, there is a fiscal shortfall and all. My uber-coiffed mayor wants a crackdown, but I just doubt it's gonna happen. Once you can afford the ultimate feast at Red Lobster every night, there's no going back without a fight.

Don't even get me started on that Olympic Torch nonsense yesterday...

Just Kill Me

Few days ago got a call from the BMW dealer. "We've got the M3 in, wanna come in for a drive?" Friend from work's interested in a 135i. Today was the day we'd get to filthily molest 'em both.

We get there and the 135i is an automatic. Well, shitfaddle. "Sport mode with paddle shifters" provides a little fun. The engine's sultry purr is seductive.

Then we get to the M3. All tingly with excitement, he runs off to get the key, and upon returning informs me I can't take the car above 3500rpm. True of all of them until 1500 miles. Odometer? 64. I can get all the way up to school zone speeds! Just pinch me!

So while I couldn't man-handle the beast, I turn to Top Gear to do that for me:

Heh. "Cock-O-Meter"

Technorati Tags: bmw, m3

Happy Thanksgiving!

Memorable:

• Wednesday, half day, goodbye lunch for another employee which shifts ever more responsibility on to me. I will miss her though.

• About 4:30 that afternoon, I'm sitting in the ER having a massive panic attack. (No, the above isn't a trigger, that scene is played out like twice a week and if I'm at peace with anything, it's that.) While freaking at the ER -- feelings of going crazy, imminent death, profuse sweating, and BP so high I'm unable to articulate full sentences, I wait an hour or two as a colorful parade of street drunks go right through the VIP line, no waiting required. Cuz I "look" normal, nervous pacing and rapid short breathing aside. I keep muttering to Mason, "just 1mg of Ativan and I can turn the corner."

  

• Nurse finally calls. "Probably panic attack, just need a mg of Ativan," I'm begging. BP machine doesn't work; the 5th take finally gets a reading. Much to her surprise, it's spectacularly high. As is my heart rate. Blood O2 low, too, from all the rapid shallow breathing. Hey, guess he's not lying! I'm asked to pee in a cup and strip down and get into a gown. I'm ushered into a room.

• Space limited. Room divided by curtain, crazed ramblings coming from the other side. I try to remain as quiet as a mouse. I'm offered a Turkey recipe from behind the curtain, which I don't even acknowledge. But to her mind-altered credit, she was topical, even if delivered as "Hey, fuck hey there, you, oh my fucking god, I've got the best, [hack hack hack], best fucking Turkey recipe." I kept quiet. She was snoring less than a minute later.

• See Doc. Obviously knows his stuff. Two minutes later Ativan arrives. 2 more minutes and I'm starting to relax and my BP had dropped 40%.

• Given Rx for Ativan. Met with Doc no more than 1 full minute. Discharged, Mason's obviously terrified about my well being, by taking a nap. I think he's snooring.

• Since tomorrow's Thanksgiving, force myself to go Turkey shopping, after a stop by the Walgreens pharmacy to stock up on Ativan.

• So... Thanksgiving was nice. Relaxing. Cooking on Ativan, fun, if not especially efficient. That's my little 12-pounder to the right. Delicious!

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!

Woohoo! Revel in my wealth!

After nearly 15 months of Google Ads, looks like I'm finally gonna get cut a check.

Was it worth it? Fuck no. But.. it's $100 I didn't have last month.

How much do I rock? Apparently about 21c a day worth.

Probably Gay: The schmeeve Hoodie

Highlights of a Tuesday

Mason calls this afternoon:

Oh my God! You'll never believe what I just saw!

(excited) What?! What!

Three bees doing it! It's a bee three-some!

(non-plussed) That's, um, fantastic. I saw some flies do that once.

Yeah! One on top, one in the back. I'm going to go take a nap now.

Okay. Sweet dreams.

Ah, good to be me. *sigh*

When you ride MUNI, thank me Bitch!

...ugh, property tax day. A mere week ahead of income tax day!

This will be a marathon bending over week.

Crave

Canon EOS-1D Mark III

10.1MP, full-frame, 3" LCD with Live Preview, and machine-gun rapid fire (check out the video):

It'll be about $4000, but I just might have to bite on this sweet DSLR.

Technorati Tags: camera, canon, eos-1d mark iii

My Birthday is Coming Up...

One of these, please.

Personal Thank You

To Officer Alviso of the Burlingame PD. Sure, it was just a meter violation, and technically I was in the wrong, but never the less were understanding and let me go with just a warning -- and you were pleasant too!

A hell of a guy.

Attention SF DPT parking nazis: those $50 tickets and most of all your shitty attitude is why people get SOOOO angry. I of course don't condone hurling urine or rocks your way, but would it wouldn't kill ya to be professional and courtesous. (And issue valid citations -- you used to ticket my correctly stickered car all the time when I lived in the Duboce Triangle, ya bastards... and you knew what you were doing, you just didn't care.)

Flowers

Well, this doesn't happen often...

Oh, that itch...

I've got that new car itch. I hate that. Took me 2 years to scratch it last time. Oprah turns 5 in May, and I think it's time to get me some new wheels. Going to see exactly what the 2008 M3's got before I make a decision. (Note to BMW: spare me the pumped up HP with the weak comparable torque.)

The RS4 is a non-starter, too fugly and speed-racer for my taste, M5's too big. Caymen needs more guts. Any suggestions? I don't drive for my commute, or I'd be looking at some hybrid, a Civic or something along those lines. Although, those hybrids... ehhh. I just can't bring myself to drive something more akin to a kitchen appliance than a car.

Also, for sale: 2003 Acura CL Type-S Manual w/Nav. Black/black. Only 40k miles. One of only 820 ever produced in this configuration!

Home Sweet Home

Back in SF.

Nice Christmas, albeit a bit trying.

An example: We had dinner with my cousin last night (she turns 60 next year, mom's sis was 11 years older and I came late)... anyway, I had to listen to my Dad rant the entire time as I drove us to downtown Summerville, SC about how much it irritated him that people couldn't pronounce words correctly such as "foyer" (it's "foi-yeh", not "for-your"), then not 30 seconds after getting out of the car he used the term "usetacud" twice. (As in, "used to could.") "Usatacud drive yer car down this here street." Natch, that raised an eyebrow, yet my opposition was unacceptable. "Winder," "sammich," "yonder," and "usetacud": fine; "for-your": bad. Gotcha.

Oh, and dude on UA flight 1229 today, seat 1D: keep your snot rags off our shared armrest. You managed to gross out the flight attendant who had to collect your bugger napkins 3 times and then come over with a microwaved towel and attempt to sanitize the arm rest. (And I loved her for it.) Did you not notice the pile of napkins she used to guard my drink from yours? Get a clue.

Spain

Come February or March, I think I'm going to take two weeks in southern Spain, probably not far from Barcelona. Anyone else interested? Airfare seems about $100 more than it cost me to come out to South Carolina. Nutty.

Probably somewhere around here or as close to Barcelona as I can get. My mother needs me to use up one of her condo exchanges, and who am I to turn up free lodging?

[UPDATE: Map was bugging me, so I removed it.. was the wrong location anyway. I've opted for a secret bunker instead.

White Guilt

I somehow got suckered into making dinner tonight for my parents, which actually turned out quite well -- shrimp burritos with chipotle adobo and seasoned rice -- but that wasn't the highlight of the evening.

Earlier I trotted off to Publix for ingredients. It's the grocery store which usually has the slightly better merchandise, but of course lacks the charming name of say a "Piggly Wiggly" or the obviousness of a "Bi-Lo." It was an irritating experience, but I blame myself, because obviously the Mexican specialties are next to the brownie mix, cooking oil and Folger's. I mean, um, duh!

So, anyway, I've got my stuff and head for checkout. The nice girl is scanning through the various merchanise then picks up a bag and with a thick southern drawl asks "Hehe. Can ya, uh, teller me what'ha got he're?" (Scout's honor, I'm not embellishing)

"It's a habanero pepper," I say. "They're used to abort Christian babies." (perhaps I made that last part up)

Simple enough.

I'm all finished and the bag boy, a nice 15ish black guy lacking at least 3 inches and 50 lbs on me, says "Can I carry these out to your car for you?"

I'm used to this question. It's a stable of the lowly paid bagger contingent in grocery stores these days -- those in SF are required to ask even if entirely unnecessary. It's actually nice, and I see some use this courtesy who would probably struggle otherwise. But I'm at least 30 years this side of osteoporosis.

"Ah, naw, that's okay," I say, "it's only 3 bags. Thanks!"

"Eh, I got to. I need to look busy," bag-boy retorts keeping a firm grip on my bags.

Long pause. I'm in the South, I'm a healthy guy, I can carry 3 bags... but he insists. Christ.

"Um, okay, knock yourself out."

So, there we are, walking out to the car, bag-boy having a light load and getting needlessly wet in the pouring rain.

And in toe of whitey doing his bidding. It just feels terribly wrong.

I turn around and snark, "You've got 3 bags and I've got 3 hundred years of guilt. I really should of just carried those bags myself."

Bags safely in the trunk, he says "You have a nice day sir."

"You too," I say.

I'm quite sure he's long forgot about it. Why haven't I?

Personal Log: 19-Dec-2006

12:15a: become quite annoyed can't sleep. ponder Unisom, but probably not a good idea considering...

4:15a: wake up! kick ass!

4:20a: coffee, no upgrade yet on flight, decide to checkin online... which later proved somewhat smart

4:30a-5:30a: run around frantically trying to finish packing. for fun, place each of two bags in separate rooms furtherest from likely source of needed contents... I'm just not smart

5:35a: call Luxor. have needless argument over previous "order." listen, if I call twice over 45 minutes and still I don't get a cab, and it's not Friday or Saturday night, I really don't owe you a courtesy call to 'cancel.' 45 minutes is a de-facto cancel, and who the hell are you, you phone-answering at 5 o'clock in the morning piece of shit? how DARE you! I will pull your ass out through your throat!

5:36a: deep breaths. um, why did I call Luxor in the first place?

5:40a: cab arrived promptly. heh. there's a weird smell in here. It's not curry, but it's some Mediterranean spice, and it's not necessarily gross like this dude just took a bath in a tub of seasoned 3rd world gym socks... decide it's best not to think about this any further less I discover the need for expensive therapy

5:59a: "United. Domestic. Terminal 3. Door 6, please." Done this entirely too many times.

6:00a: um, wow. sea of humanity. just, um, fucking wow. most tense and frazzled. wonder if energy can be harvested as some sort of renewable resource.

6:10a: woman in front of me's bag is too heavy. mind you, I'm already checked in and need one of these two precious machines which are dedicated to two simple tasks: check ID and stick tag on luggage. so, max weight per bag is 50lbs, and exhibit A needs to drop 13. no fear, she's brought half a dozen bags! she explodes suitcase at my feet and begins to redistribute weight amongst her Samsonite home-away-from-home. amazed at contents: 3 bags of Starbucks coffee w/ 2 travel mugs, giant terry-cloth bathrobe, Costco-sized bottles of hair products, a bath 'sheet' (oh, no, no simple towel for this traveldiva), something I can only surmise is a shrine or monument to either a deity or belief... I guess they're gifts. perhaps gifts for rogue Amish who keep a secret stash of things readily available every 5 feet anywhere else in America.

6:20a: decide to be an asshole and cutely mention the postal service will even come to you now

7:25a: finally seated, flight attendant comes over and nearly ready to launch into a cheer explains that Mr. So-and-So next to me has been upgraded to First Class! Cue the music and fireworks...

7:35a: taxing towards take-off there's an announcement that there's apparently unusually strong tailwinds which will propel me eastward an hour earlier than scheduled. Praise Jesus.

8:10a: for $5, this cheese/yogurt/fruit thing ain't half bad. girl next to me asks what's available food-wise. attendant, obviously annoyed after it'd been announced 3 times that the selection can be found on page 193 of Hemispheres magazine, yanks said mag from seatback, flips to page 193, drops on tray table and stomps off.

8:55a: realize I've been watching between the seats the kid in front of me picking his nose for the last 15 minutes

10:08a: nose picker reaches his little snot hand around the seat and steals pillow I've placed against the wall at my feet

10:15a: This film has been modified from its original format. It has been edited to fit this screen and for content. 'Invincible' with Mark Walberg. Oh, Marky Mark! Better yet, a football movie! Just pinch me now!

10:45a: Not hating movie. Oddly drawn to Marky Mark's jiggling stomach during slo-mo field runs in full pads. Typical against-all-odds Disney plot both endearing and insultingly simple.

12:05p: (3:05 Eastern) -- Touchdown! Unfortunately, that's only flight 1...

12:15p: at my next gate, having gone to Terminal "A" which is where my "United Express" flight is, I feel fully humbled. Just in case you weren't aware that flying regional means you're not playing with the big boys anymore (like the 777 I flew in on), not only is Terminal A a throw-back to the 70s and poorly lit, it's at a physically lower level just to seal the psychological deal... it's oddly effective, but then again, the caliber of customer doesn't help. No live poultry running around or anything... but...

12:40p: Holy crap, this guy on the phone next to me needs to die. I mean, seriously, seriously die. Him, volume level 11: "Diane! Dan here! Now, listen, I'm telling you, I don't want to go into management, even though I know I'm the best! I can make a lot lot more money as the top sales guy! And I am the top sales guy! I have SOOOOO many offers because I went through the best training in St. Paul! DIANE! DIANE!"

12:41p: Sooooooo thirsty... gotta be blood lust. DIANE! DIANE!

12:52p: shamed by group of 15 year olds who all have newer iPods than I do. note that my shoes are much, much nicer, but lost on them... and my shirt's pretty cool too, and a nice designer steal I got cheap... again, lost.

12:53p: start hating Apple for not having my widescreen iPod out yet, because then I'd somehow not be uncool to these meatheaded 15 year olds...

1:05p: 15 year olds produce a highlighter marker and begin to use each other as white boards (and white they are)... Frosty, 2006 Highlight Girl of the Year, writes "I (heart) dick" on guys arm, much laughter follows...

1:06p: shamed no more, I ponder death

1:10p: DAN! DIANE! DAN! gets distracted by something shiny and leaves...

1:11p: ponder existence of God and why he inflicted Dan on me... wonder if I should jump on my cellphone and behave similarly to maintain balance in my immediate world

1:45p: Brazilians don't make terrible jets, but ponder weight balance issues in a jet that's (seat | aisle | seat-seat)... I am an engineer, afterall

2:00p: at 32k feet, old guy next to me, who I've been trying REALLY hard to ignore strikes up conversation. This doesn't stop until I'm on the ground and out of the jetway. He's from Chicago and thinks the crime in Charleston is just terrible, terrible, terrible... I don't think he's a "it was better when the darkies were in the fields" type, but it's equally as mind-numbing

3:35p: having just come in over the much ballyhooed (at least within 2 WHOLE MILES of downtown Charleston) Ravenel bridge, we're down... (bridge at night: a solid 8.5/10. it's purty, I'll give it that)

4:00p: very tired, got my bag, in the car, have a phone meeting w/work. no one can get their shit together, lines are crossed, and the confcall # is double-booked... this takes 3 times longer than the actual meeting to figure out... remind myself I'm thankful that I barely work, have tried to quit 3 times, and still collect a full salary because I'm not "allowed" to quit or some such non-sense...

4:20p: thankful to have subsidized time-off despite occasional annoyances... swallow disdain, buck up, and SMILE!

5:00p-7p: at parents house, the next 2 hours involve attempts to feed me grilled cheese sandwiches (white bread/individually sliced 'cheddar-flavored cheese product'), miso soup (just mix with water!), and freezer taquitos. begin missing SF, but realize it's the right thing that I'm here since I missed both birthdays and their 40th anniversary...

9:30p: (12:30a eastern) -- learn that Lifetime: Television for Women has been added to iTunes. With that news, my day is complete and I can finally sleep... good night my chickens!

...um, so, now you can add "x-x:30: schmeeve took 30 minutes of my life I can never regain" to your own personal log...

schmeeveTips

If I like you, and you're expecting some sort of gift (those of you not expecting babies on my birthday^), send me a wishlist link. It'll help me out. It's about a week and a day away from the glorious remembrance of His birth and I have yet to move one finger towards said glorious remembrance presents.* (Seriously, I saw a Foreigner Best Of CD on sale and I lack shame.)

I leave for my Slightly-East-of-Deliverance Christmas on Tuesday, complete with dinner with my cousin who is the ex-wife of this winner.

Pray for me.

* Lori, Carolyn, Mason: gotcha covered.

^ yes, on my birthday or there abouts little baby Jake is due. Granted, his name should of been schmeeve, but I'm not splitting hairs

Ah, technology...

So, I got a MacBook Pro (yeah, new one, Core 2 Duo Extreme Double SuperFast x2 Pro or whatever, dropped from Shanghai and double-boxed with the word "Apple" no where on the outside) and a 30" Cinema HD Display today. It's geek pr0n, and trust me, I'm smitten for the time being. So much screen real estate, coaxing Windows into Parallels, fun, fun, fun...

So, I've got the latest and greatest, right?

So here's my conundrum:

I did some "maintenance" on myself today -- manscaping, if you will -- and why the hell do I have 5 different tools to accomplish that task? That's right, FIVE. I'm not a fucking Yetti Schmeeve or anything, but jesus christ, it's just annoying. (And every guy does it, so shuddup, unless he's a hippie or, perhaps, Chinese.)

Sure, I suppose I could of accomplished it with one, but each has it's usefulness and efficiency in certain areas. Perhaps I'm just impatient, but with all the technology around us, it seems like I'd be able to get the uberGroomer and call it a day.

But no........

Home

Finally home from another two weeks on the road. One week in Atlanta, looks like no one's going to die. And a week in LA complete with $2200 hotel bill. I like this little boutique, but their WiFi sucks and apparently I was put in a room directly under the housekeeping quarters. Much noise and convo en Espanol early in the morning. But the beds are fantastically comfortable, the shower clean and hot -- a thankful change from having no hot water in Atlanta. FYI -- those exercise freaks who extoll the virtues of cold showers are filthy, filthy liars.

Mason washed my sheets and made the bed, which is nice, except that he somehow put a giant hole in them.

Ordered a new MacBook Pro today, too. Gonna pop my Intel-Mac cherry. Bit miffed there's no 7200rpm drives with the 15", but I can live with a 160G 5400. Got a 30" DIsplay today too, albeit through Amazon to save on taxes. My Apple fetish is very satiated. Of course, now I have t o figure out how to pay my income and property taxes.

Next up: glass of wine and bed.

Chinese Pollution + Hot Wet Air ==

one very sick schmeeve.

Asia

Flying to Hong Kong tomorrow, via Seoul, so the whole adventure will take about 20 hours.

Taking the 30D and a few of the better lenses, planning on trying to find some peace on the weekends and snap off a few. I'll see if I can't find some Chinese people to take pictures of... AHEM.

It's hot, humid, and lacks good bath products. Or at least a belief thereof.

Will probably hit Shanghai, too, before I head home. (I make it sound like I'm on vacation... I'm most definitely not.) I'd love to make it home before Folsom, but don't know if that's going to happen.

Perspective: Last time in Shanghai I got vid of people dancing on the street to Polak Music outside of a McDonald's.

That or Folsom?

Wish me $DEITY_Speed.

8000 Miles

That's how much I've driven in 2 years, as I found out yesterday when I took my car in for regular maintenance... yet it still costs me a fortune in insurance.

And speaking of 8000 miles, well, a little less, I'm off to Asia again for a month come next Saturday. *sigh*

Lame

Having a navigation system installed in my car somehow adds $80 a year to my insurance, and even combined with my home owner's policy I'm still tapping out at $1840 a year for a 4 year old car which is paid for. And it's garaged. And has an alarm. And I only drive it for "pleasure." (No work or school driving, 7500 or less miles/yr.) And it has GPS tracking, were it stolen.

Such a fucking scam.

Playdate

Look who came to play:

Ugh...

Back for the Attack

No, I'm not referring to Dokken's superb 1987 metalfest, but these panic/anxiety attacks which haunted me about 6 months ago. Guess what's back?

I thought it was just my shitty job, and in particular, a few assholes there -- who just really needed to die. I quit shitty job. The panis did go away for awhile, but now I'm back with the medicated joy that is Ativan.

Also back on the blood pressure medicine. (NORVASC -- Pfizer patented natch, and thus super expensive. Bastards.) Even got myself one of those monitor things at Walgreens so I can get an early start as a paranoid retiree. (It's sky high.)

I mean, I know I'm probably not going to stroke out, but it's just a tiny bit distracting when it feels like death is imminent -- for 3 days on end...

I 'spose I'm trying to justify why I'm in the house when it's just absolutely lovely outside and there's this parade thing and a free concert in Stern Grove today...

Appropriate Birthday Presents

So... I'm getting some Apple goodness for someone special, but I can't help but be me. To wit:

The Gift: Black iPod nano. Svelte and sexy. A most excellent gift, no?

The Engraving: "Sorry I fell asleep while you were doing 'that.' Twice. Love, schmeeve"

At least I'm honest. And apologetic.

LAX Blogging

La Cienega surprisingly not that jammed, and got to the airport a bit early. As usual, an interesting cast of characters waiting for their flights, a few even mildly attractive. (Oddly enough, the only black people in the gate seem to have clustered around me... just an observation)

I intend to get loaded on the plane. Been down here since Thursday, worked all weekend, and the only highlights being this pretentious-as-hell 'art' exhibit (could of been a ad pitch, just the same) and getting semi-bombed last night with my friend Erica, who has a new baby "Cupcake":

Gonna be happy to be home, but next week heading to Hong Kong... that'll be fun, for the first 15 minutes.

May-December Romance

New "Quad" today. They're doing the digital tango right now and sharing their bits, should be ready in an hour or two. Big guy sure is heavy, but so very very purty.

Local Bar

This bar is around the corner from work. A good thing, and a step up from the old haunt. (I do miss Nina, though..)

At any rate, one of the bartenders was passed out and sleeping at the end of the bar tonight. I'm not the most drunk guy the bar -- and, oh snap!, tthe most drunk guy works there! Fan-fucking-tastic!

It's got good food during the day, good beer at night. Ah, I've come home. :-)

Mmmmmmmmmmm...

...will be ready in about 6-7 hours:

Drunk eBaying

Okay, I wasn't really drunk. Not even drinking. (Well, bottled water and Crystal Light. schmeeve.. you're so bad!)

But this is mine now.

So can't afford the thing, but I need it, this thing I'm typing on is circa-1999, and it is a tax write-off...

Have-Nots

Things I kinda wish I had:

• Medical insurance. This forced me off Effexor for my panic attacks, and thankfully I've had none yet, but I've ratched up the irracibleness as a result and had a interesting few weeks through chemical withdrawal. (This also forced me off some shit for high blood-pressure, some patented shit I simply can not waste the money on. Extending my life by 5 years after I'm 60: not a concern at the moment.)
• Car insurance. I didn't pay, cuz, well, couldn't. Car parked neatly in garage. Won't drive. Thankfully, it's an antique 2003 model with only 30k miles on it.
• The pain of beating down doors to get paid for contract work. It's lucrative, and all, when you get paid... a big WHEN
• Thornton's Toffee
• TiVo2Go for the Mac. Or at least a crack. I so love DRMs.
• A 10" dick
• Equal pay for being a woman.
• Okay, last one was a lie.

DisneyWhore 5000

Heh. I won four 3-day park hoppers for Disneyland California off KTVU from their "Ticket 2's Days."

I never win shit. So, um, yay me. I admit it -- I love theme parks. Schmeeve vs. The Happiest Place on Earth is always fun.

Meanwhile, I'm dirt poor (haven't gotten paid for December yet) and my mortgage is late as of the 15th. I also lost my car and medical insurance. Not so yay me.

Being poor sucks, if only temporarily...

So who's up for some Disneyland? My wife and 2.2 children are, uh, out of town... or something.

Ah, the Holidays...

2005 edition. I can basically sum it as such:

• I moved on the 23rd, house still a mess. But working on it..
• Yesterday, I discovered someone had charged $4k for a "STEIN JEWELRY" in Glendale, CA against my debit/checking card on the 23rd. Needless to say, no one was around on Christmas Eve to do anything but shut down my banking accounts
• I had no food today. So I went to Safeway, on Market near Castro, knowing it would be open. Bad idea. I asked the person in the front of the line how long they'd be there, "An hour and 15 minutes."
• Moving on, I found the Safeway in Diamond Heights to be open. Wasn't near as packed, and was rather pleasant. I visited it twice, even -- mostly because I'm stupid and don't make lists of what I need.
• Thus concludes my Christmas alone.

Merry Whatever-the-Fuck-you-Celebrate-Or-Don't.

Dispatches from the far side of Neptune

I'm lazy, and kinda whacked, so a brief summary of what I've been up to:

• I quit my crap job. Yay! Good idea, some good people, clueless people in charge. Same ol' story.
• About two months ago I started having problems with panic attacks. The first one landed me in the ER, as I thought I was stroking out or having a heart attack. Very debilitating. I will expand on this later, but suffice to say, I've always been one of those mind over matter types, and this thing attacked me like a charging rhino and made a fool of me. Much respect.
• I dealt with the above two for about 2 months, but once the first happened, the other mysteriously disappeared.
• Bought a house. Escrow closed a month ago, I gave the guy a month to vacate, and I get the keys tomorrow. It's in Twin Peaks, yes, you're invited to the party, and I don't need a gift.

more later...

*tap* *tap* Peace Out. :-)

On Being Average

Link

I move in to my place on 12/10. And I've got my binoculars ready for you people in the East Bay I can see from my living room window... :-)

Central Valley

Things that suck about driving in the Central Valley:

- Trucks. About a billion of them, mostly Wal-Mart.
- Harris Ranch, specifically it's feed lot. Downright disgusting.
- Lars Larsen, right wing nut job who I listen to mostly to stay awake -- because I get so damn mad. Tonight, he was lamenting FEMA paying for hotel rooms for the displaced Katrina victims, and was making a national crisis out of prisoners profiting from selling their "art." (Of zero interest: is housing available for the displaced? How the hell can a prisoner even spend his money? Buy a fetching Vitton bag at the commissary?)
- Food choices existing only of McD's, Wendy's, Carl's Jr, and other crap options which have an 's in them
- Yokels that want to race in their F-150's or "hemi" trucks

Things that suck about getting out of LA and even into the Central Valley:
- The 405.

Good things:
- Cows. (Excluding the doomed ones in the feed lot.) I like moo-moos, especially when they're grazing, with calfs running around. Adorable. (Okay, and delicious...)

Time for bed.

Preach, Teach, Marry, and Bury

Thanks to the Universal Life Church you can become ordained online in about 3 minutes. And it's all legit. I'm Rev. Schmeeve.

Speaking of all things holy, check out Outchurched, a Podcast/blog run by a friend of mine, the honorable Rev. Dan.

Also, I became a home owner today... more on that later.

Yuppie Scum... Interrupted

So, the house fell through. Not my fault. I lost no money, blah, blah, blah.

But I've come to two conclusions: when buying a house, banks are your friend and realtors are dicks.

First, a little background. The house appraised for far less than I was paying for it. There was some question as to whether the appraiser was qualified for SF and the area, so that brought some level of vagueness into the picture. It was given a peer review at the appraisal company and still came in far under. Comps for the area made everything very questionable, making it seem almost a bargain. All sorts of conflicting data, but I need to be primarily concerned with resale value.

Let me explain the rest. The bank basically has the same interest as you: they will only float a loan as long as what you're buying is deemed worth the price. This makes sense simply because if they have to foreclose, they do not want to loose money. Like, um, duh. Also, my loan agent is forthright and completely honest -- a friend of a friend who I will recommend to anyone any day of the week. In a nutshell, she kicks ass.

Secondly, my realtor, who is supposed to work on my behalf, was lobbying me to buy something despite me having all evidence to the contrary. When things were falling apart today, all he could really offer me was "Oh, well, if you want to come up with the difference in cash, you can still buy it! You should consider that!" My response: "Oh, yeah, I've got a fucking money tree in the backyard with $65k ripe and ready to fall off. Um, are you fucking retarded?" Aside from that, he was offering up his own appraiser to the loan agent -- without telling me. Oh, and prior to that, he tried to tell me the selling agent wanted to close early, when in fact he had a planned vacation and just wanted to collect his payday before his holiday. Nutshell: he wants to get paid, and basically had no interest in my long-term success, despite being my neighbor for the past 7 years!

Moving along... I'm gonna keep looking. My heart wasn't in this place, so I'm just fine with the fall-out. I didn't loose any money, and I will find the right place... as soon as I find a new realtor.

--

In a completely unrelated topic, happy anniversary to Mike & Stacy. And special praise to Stacy for putting up with that crusty old fuck for a full year. :-)

Yuppie Scum

I bought a house. It's a perfectly adorable little 2 bedroom in Twin Peaks. Nice deck, garage, hardwood, stainless appliances, rock-solid inspection and earthquake bracing. It cost a small fortune, and I've been freaking out -- totally freaking the fuck out -- about it ever since. Can I afford it? How the hell will I move my boat anchor of a TV? Do I really need 7 years of Macworld back-issues? Will my neighbor in the building be a dick? Mostly it's that first one -- how the holy fucking hell am I going to afford this thing?!

It was very un-San Francisco. It was my first bid, I bid slightly under, and it was accepted. Pest is only $400 -- I guess the average being about $5000 in SF.

I feel so, uh, 'adult.'

Here's a few pictures:

T-2:36

Until I turn another year older -- technically. The good news is I already look 40. Hopefully I can just grow into it now.

Also, I'm missing your present. So get on it...

Do these huggies make my ass look fat?

Which Family Guy character are you?