New Adventures of a Gay Man
An eccentrically lost gay man...
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Gallifrey One 2010 Report
A proper write up while it's still somewhat fresh in my mind, one week later.
THURSDAY
I arrived around 5PM on Thursday, shortly after Dori herself had arrived and checked into our hotel room. Sean was still AWOL for about one more day. She helped schlep my belongings to our room, we settled in and headed down to Thursday LobbyCon. I head down to the basement to find anyone from Con Ops, and returned later when I had only found other Whovians. Found Martin Young in the lobby and introduced self. He then took me up to the Con Ops suite on the 17th floor facing the LAX runways and introduced me to the other staff and con ops members. We talked for a few hours until about 1AM and then I retired to my room to return the following morning. I also met Bob the Boob Llama in Maria's cleavage. Bob liked to be in Boobs.
FRIDAY
Was instructed via e-mail to arrive at 7AM sharp in the basement at Con Ops HQ. Got there around 7:15AM and was put to work until registration opened and I could retrieve my badge. Most of the time was spent helping Willow Jewelry in the Dealer Room set up her stand. Nice woman, but I could tell that her products would be out of the price range of the standard con attendee. We chatted, and I made a nice friend for the weekend in the Dealer's Room. By the time I finished with setup, registration had opened. I retrieved my badge, got my volunteer ribbon and raided the Con Ops ribbon stash, and returned to be deployed elsewhere for the day. Martin, at some point, told me that I was under probation for consideration for Con Ops itself -- a nice surprise since I wasn't really planning on moving beyond status of Volunteer.
Also delivered a UNIT sealed package on behalf of the Master (and Tadao) to Martin.
Towards the end of the evening, I ducked back into my room to change into my Casino attire and dropped into the Casino run by the Torchwood Girls to become a craps dealer with Sean, and had quite an amazing time. Our table kept our gamblers cleaning up to the point that we just ended up with our own bank of high chips closer to the end of the evening. It was quite fun, but I missed Kevin and Andy's Titanic Party by being there. Although, they always seem to plan their parties at the same time as Salina and Catie's parties, so I'm left with choices.
Ended the evening at LobbyCon and then returned to a sleepless night of snoring. Not mine.
SATURDAY
Up at 6:30 AM because I just could sleep. Took a long shower/bath and then headed down to Con Ops at 8AM. Promoted to Con Ops about mid-morning on Saturday...figured out voting happened amongst the senior members late last night while I was out having fun. Got a radio assigned, and given call sign "UNIT". Quite giddy, and after Robbie told me that I couldn't carry the weapons while working (I had no intention to do so since I'd be walking through the lobby often, and the rifle is heavy), I set off in just the UNIT uniform to carry my radio and began the standard functions of the day. I also got my Con Ops black-on-blue ribbon!
Since I was Jr. Con Ops, being so new, I essentially became a rover lackey until I learned the ways of Con Ops. Most of Saturday was spent doing many things required by Con Ops, including forgoing a few Masquerade meetings in order to attend related Con Ops meetings, and helping Johanna with her Masquerade adventures.
I talked to many of the guests, sometimes briefly, about many things...most of which was "What drink would you like?" as I was assigned to keep all guests in the autograph queues and signing rooms satiated while they performed their fan duties. Being the one that personally knows the Torchwood Girls, I was also assigned as Con Ops liaison to finding them whenever they were needed. Mostly whenever Robbie or Tadao needed to find them. I could never find them all together all weekend, at least for long periods of time.
I was assigned both line control and Masquerade duties for the evening, which included being dehumanized by a certain member of Con Staff wanting to merely impress his friends by going against our requests to maintain line control and fire code and being yelled at by a drunken attendee confused over the clear directions about where the end of the line was being given to him. Other than that, my feet hurt much, but I maintained position as UNIT and helped out to the best of my abilities. The evening ended with guarding the Masquerade entry peoples from curious photogs and being choked out by a Cyberman.
LobbyCon followed thereafter, once I had popped out of uniform. Well, before LobbyCon, Sean, Dori, Christina and I went to IHOP to complain about their food and just refill on much needed caloric content. Then we returned to LobbyCon where I met up with Michael (Delgado Master), Arthur (Fur Piled Creator), and Ben Paddon (Evil 10th Doctor) for a $12.50 Absolut vodka martini (WTF!?) and much talking about matters I can no longer remember. Hung out with them for a few more hours in various parts of the hotel, which included the piano and story time in the basement. Turned in around 3AM to another sleepless night of snoring. Basically played my MP3 player until the battery died and that's how I got four hours of sleep and weird dreams. Up, showered, back down to Con Ops.
SUNDAY
Sunday was spent doing much of the same as the other days, Con Ops duties. After a Friday and Saturday being in uniform, I spent the entire Sunday out of uniform to give my feet a much needed rest. Sunday afternoon was slow for Con Ops and was spent mostly helping the Dealer's room and Art Room pack up after closing, and preparing to take down the rest of the rooms post-con. Late in the evening, the Con Staff retired upstairs for their dinner leaving Con Ops and Volunteers guarding the take-down of the main program room and TARDIS. We were left alone just long enough that we ended up creating Torchwood / Doctor Who porn from the action figures. Best not to leave us alone.
NSFW Link: Torgy @ Gally 2010
After people had returned from their dinner, and others had left for the evening with promises of school or other obligations in the morning, we set off to begin the lengthy process of dismantling Gallifrey One.
The rest of the evening was filled with fielding an irrational parent on the escapades of Tommy Knight's kilt, a water gun fight (see video below) with Con Ops against Tommy Knight, and generally hanging out in the lobby with Tommy Knight, a few other characters, friends, and being stalked on Twitter and in-person by other attendees. Dropped into sleep around 4AM, after finally tapping the lobby for internet and catching up on four days worth of missed e-mails, voicemail, messages, and tweets.
MONDAY
Dori was very hungry that morning, Sean had left the evening before for home, and Christina had left in mid-afternoon on Sunday. Dori and I watched The Princess Diaries 2 and had room service deliver breakfast. After this, we showered/bathed, cleaned up and packed our belongings, and schlepped individual belongings to our respective cars. I carried Big Stitch around the lobby one last time and deposited him in the car before spending yet another two hours in Post-Gally LobbyCon with Tony Lee and other people. We said our goodbyes, and I headed home to begin the arduous task of reclaiming my room and decluttering my mom's home. I then began the next week of looking for my pictures of my UNIT costume, and watching the #Gally tag on Twitter.
POST-CON
I made some nice new friends at Con, and generally, this convention felt more exhilarating than in past years. It was only my third Gallifrey, but still felt so much more fun since I had a position and some authority to go with my UNIT costume, and I found more friends to share life and other things. Having met the creator of Fur Piled,I felt better knowing that not all furries are crazy people like Ian. But, they all seem to think Ian is a douche. Well, he is, but that's not the point of this. Started on working out budgets for a possible Host costume next year, figuring out a way to either make a Blowfish or Weevil costume for next year, and trying to find ways to link NorCal friends with my recent move to SoCal so that we could remain in touch. It was good to see them again, and I do miss them, but I hardly saw them as it was living up there. I do miss being on my own, though.
Well, I left out a lot, but I just don't remember what day some things fall into. Anyway, here are the two videos that I like the most.
CON OPS vs TOMMY KNIGHT WATER FIGHT:
GALLIFREY 2010 MUSIC VIDEO:
See you all in 2011 (or Comic Con 2010 or WonderCon 2010)!
THURSDAY
I arrived around 5PM on Thursday, shortly after Dori herself had arrived and checked into our hotel room. Sean was still AWOL for about one more day. She helped schlep my belongings to our room, we settled in and headed down to Thursday LobbyCon. I head down to the basement to find anyone from Con Ops, and returned later when I had only found other Whovians. Found Martin Young in the lobby and introduced self. He then took me up to the Con Ops suite on the 17th floor facing the LAX runways and introduced me to the other staff and con ops members. We talked for a few hours until about 1AM and then I retired to my room to return the following morning. I also met Bob the Boob Llama in Maria's cleavage. Bob liked to be in Boobs.
FRIDAY
Was instructed via e-mail to arrive at 7AM sharp in the basement at Con Ops HQ. Got there around 7:15AM and was put to work until registration opened and I could retrieve my badge. Most of the time was spent helping Willow Jewelry in the Dealer Room set up her stand. Nice woman, but I could tell that her products would be out of the price range of the standard con attendee. We chatted, and I made a nice friend for the weekend in the Dealer's Room. By the time I finished with setup, registration had opened. I retrieved my badge, got my volunteer ribbon and raided the Con Ops ribbon stash, and returned to be deployed elsewhere for the day. Martin, at some point, told me that I was under probation for consideration for Con Ops itself -- a nice surprise since I wasn't really planning on moving beyond status of Volunteer.
Also delivered a UNIT sealed package on behalf of the Master (and Tadao) to Martin.
Towards the end of the evening, I ducked back into my room to change into my Casino attire and dropped into the Casino run by the Torchwood Girls to become a craps dealer with Sean, and had quite an amazing time. Our table kept our gamblers cleaning up to the point that we just ended up with our own bank of high chips closer to the end of the evening. It was quite fun, but I missed Kevin and Andy's Titanic Party by being there. Although, they always seem to plan their parties at the same time as Salina and Catie's parties, so I'm left with choices.
Ended the evening at LobbyCon and then returned to a sleepless night of snoring. Not mine.
SATURDAY
Up at 6:30 AM because I just could sleep. Took a long shower/bath and then headed down to Con Ops at 8AM. Promoted to Con Ops about mid-morning on Saturday...figured out voting happened amongst the senior members late last night while I was out having fun. Got a radio assigned, and given call sign "UNIT". Quite giddy, and after Robbie told me that I couldn't carry the weapons while working (I had no intention to do so since I'd be walking through the lobby often, and the rifle is heavy), I set off in just the UNIT uniform to carry my radio and began the standard functions of the day. I also got my Con Ops black-on-blue ribbon!
Since I was Jr. Con Ops, being so new, I essentially became a rover lackey until I learned the ways of Con Ops. Most of Saturday was spent doing many things required by Con Ops, including forgoing a few Masquerade meetings in order to attend related Con Ops meetings, and helping Johanna with her Masquerade adventures.I talked to many of the guests, sometimes briefly, about many things...most of which was "What drink would you like?" as I was assigned to keep all guests in the autograph queues and signing rooms satiated while they performed their fan duties. Being the one that personally knows the Torchwood Girls, I was also assigned as Con Ops liaison to finding them whenever they were needed. Mostly whenever Robbie or Tadao needed to find them. I could never find them all together all weekend, at least for long periods of time.
I was assigned both line control and Masquerade duties for the evening, which included being dehumanized by a certain member of Con Staff wanting to merely impress his friends by going against our requests to maintain line control and fire code and being yelled at by a drunken attendee confused over the clear directions about where the end of the line was being given to him. Other than that, my feet hurt much, but I maintained position as UNIT and helped out to the best of my abilities. The evening ended with guarding the Masquerade entry peoples from curious photogs and being choked out by a Cyberman.
LobbyCon followed thereafter, once I had popped out of uniform. Well, before LobbyCon, Sean, Dori, Christina and I went to IHOP to complain about their food and just refill on much needed caloric content. Then we returned to LobbyCon where I met up with Michael (Delgado Master), Arthur (Fur Piled Creator), and Ben Paddon (Evil 10th Doctor) for a $12.50 Absolut vodka martini (WTF!?) and much talking about matters I can no longer remember. Hung out with them for a few more hours in various parts of the hotel, which included the piano and story time in the basement. Turned in around 3AM to another sleepless night of snoring. Basically played my MP3 player until the battery died and that's how I got four hours of sleep and weird dreams. Up, showered, back down to Con Ops.
SUNDAY
Sunday was spent doing much of the same as the other days, Con Ops duties. After a Friday and Saturday being in uniform, I spent the entire Sunday out of uniform to give my feet a much needed rest. Sunday afternoon was slow for Con Ops and was spent mostly helping the Dealer's room and Art Room pack up after closing, and preparing to take down the rest of the rooms post-con. Late in the evening, the Con Staff retired upstairs for their dinner leaving Con Ops and Volunteers guarding the take-down of the main program room and TARDIS. We were left alone just long enough that we ended up creating Torchwood / Doctor Who porn from the action figures. Best not to leave us alone.
NSFW Link: Torgy @ Gally 2010
After people had returned from their dinner, and others had left for the evening with promises of school or other obligations in the morning, we set off to begin the lengthy process of dismantling Gallifrey One.
The rest of the evening was filled with fielding an irrational parent on the escapades of Tommy Knight's kilt, a water gun fight (see video below) with Con Ops against Tommy Knight, and generally hanging out in the lobby with Tommy Knight, a few other characters, friends, and being stalked on Twitter and in-person by other attendees. Dropped into sleep around 4AM, after finally tapping the lobby for internet and catching up on four days worth of missed e-mails, voicemail, messages, and tweets.
MONDAY
Dori was very hungry that morning, Sean had left the evening before for home, and Christina had left in mid-afternoon on Sunday. Dori and I watched The Princess Diaries 2 and had room service deliver breakfast. After this, we showered/bathed, cleaned up and packed our belongings, and schlepped individual belongings to our respective cars. I carried Big Stitch around the lobby one last time and deposited him in the car before spending yet another two hours in Post-Gally LobbyCon with Tony Lee and other people. We said our goodbyes, and I headed home to begin the arduous task of reclaiming my room and decluttering my mom's home. I then began the next week of looking for my pictures of my UNIT costume, and watching the #Gally tag on Twitter.
POST-CON
I made some nice new friends at Con, and generally, this convention felt more exhilarating than in past years. It was only my third Gallifrey, but still felt so much more fun since I had a position and some authority to go with my UNIT costume, and I found more friends to share life and other things. Having met the creator of Fur Piled,I felt better knowing that not all furries are crazy people like Ian. But, they all seem to think Ian is a douche. Well, he is, but that's not the point of this. Started on working out budgets for a possible Host costume next year, figuring out a way to either make a Blowfish or Weevil costume for next year, and trying to find ways to link NorCal friends with my recent move to SoCal so that we could remain in touch. It was good to see them again, and I do miss them, but I hardly saw them as it was living up there. I do miss being on my own, though.
Well, I left out a lot, but I just don't remember what day some things fall into. Anyway, here are the two videos that I like the most.
CON OPS vs TOMMY KNIGHT WATER FIGHT:
GALLIFREY 2010 MUSIC VIDEO:
See you all in 2011 (or Comic Con 2010 or WonderCon 2010)!
Mrs. Bagwell's Rhumba
In case you ever wonder what I do when I'm alone and there's music playing:
LIVE FROM FREMONT!
I'm just bored enough that I'm doing a live broadcast all day. Right now, it's on my balcony overlooking sunny Fremont.
Perhaps later, it will be in the apartment watching me move/dance/sleep/color.
And, you get to hear my computer's music stream the entire time. How fun!
Video streaming by Ustream
Perhaps later, it will be in the apartment watching me move/dance/sleep/color.
And, you get to hear my computer's music stream the entire time. How fun!
Video streaming by Ustream
My Fursona
I'm a furry. I hope this isn't a surprise.
I drew my fursona out because I haven't drawn the updated cybernetic raccoon since, well, ever. Also, I did upgrade my drawing ability substantially since 2002. Here ya go:
CyberCoon - My Fursona by ~BREWNinja on deviantART
I just have to figure out how I'm going to get the Coon Corp arm built, along with the bionic eye and neck dealie and possibly a mechanical torso (abs) network. I haven't decided yet. I have to sketch him in a "cartoon nude" (think Bugs Bunny) turn-around to get all of his markings and junk. And since I'm not exactly "fit" in the sense of CyberCoon...a fursuit of him, well...
Any_dang_way, whenever I manage to land a well-paying job, take care of the necessities, and then my mother/grandfather/uncle, I'll look into getting a partial fursuit.
But, I'm willing to take suggestions on getting started on that Coon Corp arm. Wearable, since it'll go with any eventual full or partial fursuit. Unless someone can help me with building a fursuit too.
I drew my fursona out because I haven't drawn the updated cybernetic raccoon since, well, ever. Also, I did upgrade my drawing ability substantially since 2002. Here ya go:
CyberCoon - My Fursona by ~BREWNinja on deviantART
I just have to figure out how I'm going to get the Coon Corp arm built, along with the bionic eye and neck dealie and possibly a mechanical torso (abs) network. I haven't decided yet. I have to sketch him in a "cartoon nude" (think Bugs Bunny) turn-around to get all of his markings and junk. And since I'm not exactly "fit" in the sense of CyberCoon...a fursuit of him, well...
Any_dang_way, whenever I manage to land a well-paying job, take care of the necessities, and then my mother/grandfather/uncle, I'll look into getting a partial fursuit.
But, I'm willing to take suggestions on getting started on that Coon Corp arm. Wearable, since it'll go with any eventual full or partial fursuit. Unless someone can help me with building a fursuit too.
Injuries of Random
In my 28 years on the planet, I've done the following to uphold my clumsiness thing (won't count any work-related things):
- Stripped the skin on the back of my hands in elevator door mechanism - 5 yo
- Gotten my head stuck on the poles of the balcony - 5 yo
- Sprained my ankle getting off my bike - 7yo
- Rolled my car end-over-end, push-type - 7yo
- Walked into a door and drew blood from nose - 3rd grade
- Hand in car door - 4th grade
- Metal edge of ruler sliced across wrist during "sword" fight - 7th grade
- Stabbed with pointy end of a violin bow - 9th grade
- Hand stuck in a jar - 9th grade
- Fell during a hike - 9th grade
- Tennis ball to the groin - 9th grade
- Tennis ball to the ear - 9th grade
- Tripped over my own luggage at the end of a Jetway - 10th grade
- Finger stuck in an F-hole (violin) - 11th grade
- Punched self while putting on seatbelt in first car - 18 yo
- Tennis ball to the ear, back, groin and leg - 19yo
- Dislocated thumb while executing a U-turn - 22yo
- Handcuffed self to bed - 23yo
- Fell into a pile of strollers - 24yo (technically work-related)
- Dislocated shoulder while executing a U-turn and simultaneously removing sweater - 25yo
- Punched self while putting on seatbelt in current car - 26yo
- Punched self while taking a bite from an apple, split lip somehow - 27yo
- Sliced thumb and finger on cock-mechanism of Airsoft gun - 28yo
- Poked eye with sunglasses - Yesterday
Recruiter Hell
Call from a recruiter, obviously not aware of the size of the State of California. Has two positions, one in New York (state or city?) and one in California (won't tell me where). I describe my experience, and he seems to have difficulty with the fact that I'm currently unemployed, even though it's only been two months.
Anyway, I spend ten minutes arguing with the recruiter about getting at least a region of where the job is located in California. I explain that I live in the SF Bay Area, but I'm moving to the Los Angeles area in about one week, so a job in either extreme of CA might be an issue. He doesn't seem to understand this, but keeps asking if there's a chance I'll move to New York instead. No, there isn't. Making that perfectly clear--not moving to New York. Moving to SoCal.
So I explain that I understand that he cannot give out a city (A CITY!? It's not like I'm asking for the company name, I just want a city), but I ask for a metro region. He can't give me that, but he's going to submit my resume anyway. Well, that's not helpful to me BECAUSE I'M MOVING AWAY FROM THE SF BAY AREA TO LOS ANGELES AREA next week. If the position is in San Diego or LA or Orange County, fine. But if it's in San Jose, Oakland or SF, I'm screwed.
He doesn't seem to understand why this is vital at all, and asks again if I'm moving to New York. New York is 2000+ miles from California, no I'm not moving to New York for a six-month contract. I understand if you're not even living in the US and have no concept of the distances, but when I say CA is a big state, I mean it!
Gah, so fucking frustrated when recruiters do that!
Anyway, I spend ten minutes arguing with the recruiter about getting at least a region of where the job is located in California. I explain that I live in the SF Bay Area, but I'm moving to the Los Angeles area in about one week, so a job in either extreme of CA might be an issue. He doesn't seem to understand this, but keeps asking if there's a chance I'll move to New York instead. No, there isn't. Making that perfectly clear--not moving to New York. Moving to SoCal.
So I explain that I understand that he cannot give out a city (A CITY!? It's not like I'm asking for the company name, I just want a city), but I ask for a metro region. He can't give me that, but he's going to submit my resume anyway. Well, that's not helpful to me BECAUSE I'M MOVING AWAY FROM THE SF BAY AREA TO LOS ANGELES AREA next week. If the position is in San Diego or LA or Orange County, fine. But if it's in San Jose, Oakland or SF, I'm screwed.
He doesn't seem to understand why this is vital at all, and asks again if I'm moving to New York. New York is 2000+ miles from California, no I'm not moving to New York for a six-month contract. I understand if you're not even living in the US and have no concept of the distances, but when I say CA is a big state, I mean it!
Gah, so fucking frustrated when recruiters do that!
I'm in shape, panda-shaped.
This isn't a New Year's Resolution. I don't believe in those. I believe in random things that are ever changing. I believe that the universe will always deny me the jobs I want. I believe that my heater is a pot smoker. I believe that Whitey is working for a secret dog organization. I also talk to my brain. Not talking to myself, I talk to my brain. Case in point:
Brain: Here's a random thought, set down the soda, put away the cookies and get off your ass and do that fucking push-up. I know you can do at least five.
Me: No, I can't even do one.
Brain: Remember your martial arts training? Remember the Border Patrol Examination? Remember the TSA fitness requirements? You can do it.
Me: No. Okay fine. **Does five push-ups in a minute** Okay, yes, I can. Wow. Well, took forever, but yeah.
Brain: Good, give me another five more.
Me: But...I just did five.
Brain: You can do five more.
Me: *reluctant* fine. *does five more* K, done.
Brain: Put on your shoes. The running shoes. We're going for a jog. Bring the MP3 player. You know you hate me talking to you during your run.
Me: *pointing outside* It's dark and raining.
Brain: It's just water, and you know your night vision is very acute.
Me: No, I wanna Twitter and veg and apply for jobs.
Brain:Feel that? *heart skips a beat* I do that. I control that. But, I'm having issues because you're only working me out and not the body. *heart skips again* Help me out, and I'll make that feeling stop. I'll make this stop too *makes it hard to breathe*. I control that too. Not that bloody inhaler you don't have.
Me: No. It's raining. Tomorrow. Promise. You can even force me. I'd like to bike again, though.
Brain: Pfft, biking. You can do 10 miles on that easily. With a missing pedal. We'll push for twenty miles when the sun's out. I fear your ability in the rain on a bike. But, tomorrow, you run. Doesn't matter what others think. Charge up the PDA or pop batteries into the MP3 player. Whatever. Just run. Run till you can't breathe, rest and do it again. Don't take any songs that encourage you to sing, though. You know how bad that is. Multitasking while running.
Me: I don't know if I want to.
Brain: Right now, up from the computer, down on the ground. We're running through that Border Patrol training regimen.
Me: All of it!?
Brain: Yes, all of it. You've got time. Nothing else to do. Webcomic can wait.
Me: But..
Brain: No.
And this is why, 1 hour from now, I will not be able to walk or type or draw or anything but sleep. BRB in about 60 minutes.
But, my brain is right, I can lose this weight, I can regain the strength in my arms, and I can be non-panda shaped.
Brain: Here's a random thought, set down the soda, put away the cookies and get off your ass and do that fucking push-up. I know you can do at least five.
Me: No, I can't even do one.
Brain: Remember your martial arts training? Remember the Border Patrol Examination? Remember the TSA fitness requirements? You can do it.
Me: No. Okay fine. **Does five push-ups in a minute** Okay, yes, I can. Wow. Well, took forever, but yeah.
Brain: Good, give me another five more.
Me: But...I just did five.
Brain: You can do five more.
Me: *reluctant* fine. *does five more* K, done.
Brain: Put on your shoes. The running shoes. We're going for a jog. Bring the MP3 player. You know you hate me talking to you during your run.
Me: *pointing outside* It's dark and raining.
Brain: It's just water, and you know your night vision is very acute.
Me: No, I wanna Twitter and veg and apply for jobs.
Brain:Feel that? *heart skips a beat* I do that. I control that. But, I'm having issues because you're only working me out and not the body. *heart skips again* Help me out, and I'll make that feeling stop. I'll make this stop too *makes it hard to breathe*. I control that too. Not that bloody inhaler you don't have.
Me: No. It's raining. Tomorrow. Promise. You can even force me. I'd like to bike again, though.
Brain: Pfft, biking. You can do 10 miles on that easily. With a missing pedal. We'll push for twenty miles when the sun's out. I fear your ability in the rain on a bike. But, tomorrow, you run. Doesn't matter what others think. Charge up the PDA or pop batteries into the MP3 player. Whatever. Just run. Run till you can't breathe, rest and do it again. Don't take any songs that encourage you to sing, though. You know how bad that is. Multitasking while running.
Me: I don't know if I want to.
Brain: Right now, up from the computer, down on the ground. We're running through that Border Patrol training regimen.
Me: All of it!?
Brain: Yes, all of it. You've got time. Nothing else to do. Webcomic can wait.
Me: But..
Brain: No.
And this is why, 1 hour from now, I will not be able to walk or type or draw or anything but sleep. BRB in about 60 minutes.
But, my brain is right, I can lose this weight, I can regain the strength in my arms, and I can be non-panda shaped.
The Wonder That is Lee
I've decided to repost a few wonderful tidbits from my private journal here.
February 26, 2007 - "Shopping Cart Hell"
So, I'm mindlessly pushing my shopping cart in the impulse-buy-line-from-hell at Fry's, and I accidentally bump the person ahead of me.
He turns, and informs me that I've hit him; I apologize, and back up about a foot. Usually, it'd just end there, we'd continue our lives, and nothing more would come of it, right? Wrong.
He turns around again and tells me that "normally, it'd be okay if you hit me, but I've got a bum leg." Okay. And, what do you want me to do?
He turns around again, "Do you drive like that?"
Okay, time to speak again, "I don't see how you can equate the complex act of driving..." (it was really late and I was sleepy, makes me bitter and somewhat coherent) "...with the simple act of pushing a shopping cart, but no, I don't drive like this." He became visibly irritated.
He turns back, and turns around again as we creep forwards in the line, "Well, you just have to be patient. We're not goin' anywhere fast right now." So, in my head, I'm thinking: "I have a 'bum' leg, and a previous wrist, back, and shoulder injury. You don't hear me complaining and trying to drag sympathy out of a stranger. Geez, just let it go, dude. Are you so lonely for the interaction of other people that this moment is just gold for you?"
But, my reply comes back as this, "Look, working your sob story on me isn't going to make me feel guilty for you. I apologized for what I did, now let it go. And, I've been blessed with the power to ignore people. Wait...see, I can't hear you anymore." And I started humming the Britney Spears "Crazy" song. He becomes annoyed, turns back, and doesn't turn around again.
It's not rude. It's just being me.
May 15, 2007 - "Lee Numerology"
Many of you have probablyexperienced this little factor of my quirkiness: I have a thing aboutnumbers, and it falls into categories that I haven't yet begun toexplain. But, I'll do it now. It's almost a subset of some OCD-inducedtheory, but not really. Although, it does govern almost everything inmy life.
To start, I'm primarily concerned with numbers in the ones place rather than anything else from the tenths place on, exceptfor random instances where the complete number matters to me. Those arequite numerous, and will just be mentioned whenever I encounter them;i.e, not here.
For the purpose of the brief illustration, I'll stick to whole numbered, positive integers.
1 - 3 - These numbers are fine. I don't feel any different about them when they are on their own.Paired with any other number, that feeling changes. But, for the firstthree numbers in this workout, these are pretty much meaningless to me.One exception, I do prefer the number 2 to the number 1 or 3.
4, 6, 8- Being even numbers, they are divisible by my preferred first clusternumber, 2. Therefore, I prefer these even numbers to oddnumbers...unless the larger number pairs are also divisible by 3, thenI prefer the number even more. Unless, upon adding the digits downuntil rendering a single number from 1 to 9, that number is odd, then Idon't like the number pair.
5, 9 - Bad numbers, no. Exception only if upon adding the digits down to a single digit renders an odd number that is not divisible by 3, then I'm good.
7 - Neutral, but preferred over number 2, and only second to 13.
0- If used to create an even number, not divisible by 3, then numbercreated is positive in outlook, otherwise the digit by itself has nosignificance or importance.
Numbered Pairs, 10 - 20
10 - Of the numbered pairs, this is the most preferred number, second being 13, followed by 20.
11- While it meets my dislike of certain odd numbers, the addition of thedigits renders 2 and brings a positive aspect to the number.
12- If this number didn't also represent the letter "L" in the Americanalphabet, it wouldn't pass my criteria, becoming 3 after addition,being divisible by 3 as well. Positive, just barely.
13 - Born on the 13th of November, and addition deals 4, which is divisible by 2.
14- Without resorting to digit addition, I'm fine with this number if itmeans that I can avoid 15. After addition, we render 5, which is ano-no, chucking this number out of the window. But, if doing so moves me to 15, I'll settle for 14.
15- Don't appreciate this number because it is divisible by three, itsaddition factor is divisible by three, and it has the number 5 withinit. All bad.
16 - Addition yields 7, which is fine. Division by 2, not 3.
17 - Addition yields 8, which is divisible by 2 and is an even number. Doubly good.
18, 20- Addition renders 9 and 2, respectively. While I don't like 9 on itsown, the multiplication of 9 times 2 renders 18 which is stilldivisible by 2. By producing the same result as addition of its digits,18 barely skates by.
19 - Possession of the 9 digit wouldnormally kill this number. It's also not divisible by 2 or 3. Additionof the digits renders 10, which in turn renders 1. Out of sheerpreference for the number 2, 19 is chucked out. And, since I like 18& 20, I have no problem ditching 19.
June 20, 2007 - "PUPPIES!"
I have these thoughts every now and again that make me feel that maybeI'm not who I think I am. That's I'm not Lee Almodovar, or at least,I'm not who Lee Almodovar is. I mean, I am Lee Almodovar. But, I don'tknow if my likes, dislikes, personality, intelligence, demeanor,knowledge, etc is truly mine or if its the result of a persona that hasbeen implanted within me.
Wondering if I am me, or if this was a fabrication of something greater than me.
But,every now and then, a surge of adrenaline pulsates through my veins andI'm jolted into this fabricated reality.
September 8, 2007 - "This Side Up"
Let's break this thing down into bite sized paragraphs to thoroughly explain the degradation of airline service.
I always anticipate that traffic on the 101-N will be bad, especially headed closer to San Francisco. This being said, I did take ample amount of time—excuse me for a moment, I have to move; I hate being around other people—to allow for a bit of traffic congestion. I was pretty much denied that cushion when BART decided to take an extra twenty minutes to leave for the airport from the Millbrae Station. It's only one stop away! At least my parking is paid for four days in their parking structure, otherwise I’d have a bigger issue to settle.
Now, I’m greatly appreciative of the fact that BART connects to SFO. If I weren’t, I’d be parking at or near the airport and spending way more—oh my god, “Holiday” is playing in the terminal—money than I’d absolutely have to spend. However, as I write this, I’m sitting at gate A10 of the International terminal—for a domestic flight, no less—devoid of free internet and stuck firmly in the notion that airlines should not launch with false promises. The few will be listed as thus:
Virgin Airlines has publicized both online and in print the excellence of their fleet. Well, while the name “Virgin” has a certain degree of respect and wonder attached to the name, my initial airport impression of the airline has been anything but the respect it deserves. I cannot be mad at them for my tardiness, but I can be a little peeved at the way it was handled. While they were courteous and helpful at all times, it was not the most efficient method of handling a customer.
To start off, I arrived fully aware that I was not going to even set foot on my plane, so I was ready for standby or confirmed standby. I opted for confirmed standby. I don’t want a "maybe I’ll get on the plane." Fuck that. So, twenty-five dollars later, I’m at the gate. But before that, there this wonderful tidbit of false advertising.
I asked the counter people if the Ethernet connection was operational. No. Not for a year. But, there’s WiFi. Except…that’s not going to be operational for a year either. And, it’ll be an extra fee. What. The. Fuck? Cue the eyeroll, I gather my ticket and carry-on luggage and practically stomp off, thoroughly disappointed at being cut off from the world for three hours (wait in terminal + flight time + luggage claim + drive home times), and prepare for the security line.
Oh, does this bring me to another awesome point. I’m carrying a 1800Flowers.com floral arrangement, which I know is going to set off the x-ray machine both for organic and dense material. I’m expecting this, so I go through the motions: jacket off, laptop out of bag in its own bin with camcorder, laptop bag and everything else in another bin, shoes off in a bin by themselves. I walk through the detector, and pick up my jacket, laptop, laptop bag, camcorder, wallet, shoes and boarding pass. My floral arrangement is being inspected, as expected, by TSA.
TSA aside, let’s return to the matter at hand—Virgin America. And where are the outlets located on the plane? Under the armrest area, almost below the seats. No, that’s perfectly alright, I wanted to be uncomfortable and run the risk of unplugging both the non-working Ethernet and my power cord, thanks.
Let’s continue this when I’m actually on the aircraft. I’d like to preserve some battery power just in case their power system is non-functional. So, a passenger walks up and says there’s a delay. Cue the pissed-off walking, I’m headed off to find some sort of representative. Why the fuck is there a delay now?
A few members of the in-flight crew just appeared at the counter at around 5:30PM, the time that boarding was supposed to commence. They walked up to a few passengers and asked us if this was the correct gate for Virgin bound to Los Angeles at 6:15PM. I’m very much hopeful that the flight crew knows this is the gate, I would at least expect the in-flight crew to know what flight they’re on and where they’re departing from.
Ok, so the aircraft is a little impressive, possessing that unique Virgin, 60s feel to the entire plane, no matter how much more cramped it feels. Leather seats, movable headrests, Red Hat Linux-run touch screen computers (they went through the boot-up sequence as soon as we started rolling towards the runway—geek paradise!), and with my noise-cancel headphones and the 3000 MP3s onboard the aircraft, I’m happy at the moment. The flight attendants could be better looking, though. It really wouldn’t hurt.
The most annoying thing thus far has got to be the fact that all activity to your touchscreen is interrupted when the flight staff wants to announce something. I see the safety in it, but still. Pausing to explain to us how to use—OMG, Michael Jackson’s “Bad”—the touchscreen system when it’s practically self-explanatory is just a pain in and of itself. “In and of itself.” Ugh. Such a bad phrase. Remind me never to use it again. At least my laptop fits very comfortably on the tray table, which does slide forward to accommodate even the bulkiest computer. The whole whiteness of the seat is contrasted beautifully by the internal lighting scheme of blue and purple, but I can’t help but feel that I’m sitting in an iPod.
And first class is incredibly plush, but still not worth the $150+ price tag for a, albeit horribly delayed, one-hour flight. The inflight food ordering system dispenses drinks, snacks, meals and other items, all charged joyfully to your credit card, of which can be slid on the touchscreen or the controller/remote. I’m sitting next to two delightful young women that are currently playing old-school DOOM next to me while the other one is watching a music video. It only took me a few minutes to tap through the system and quickly form a music songlist so that I could get to typing away on my computer with its dwindling battery. But, no problem there, a short reach underneath the front side of the seat reveals ONE OUTLET SHARED BY TWO SEATS for power, as well as the NON-FUNCTIONAL RJ-45 port and a USB port. The free items of food are also ordered via the touchscreen, at any time once available, and brought to you by the flight staff. Beats having to reach up awkwardly and press a button, and then inform someone of your desires. I might take a look at the gaming system in a few minutes.
Unfortunately, the tray table is not spacious enough to accommodate both a laptop computer and a drink. Totally their fail. As observed, first class suffers this problem as well.
A summary of the snack offered on board, and their prices:
Not that I’m in any need of being filled up by things that would charge a dollar to my debit/credit card. I don’t exactly have the electronic funds available. I do have cash on me that I now wish I had left on the card. I’ve been without any form of sustenance since 2PM. I’m not a happy camper, but at least the flight is comfortable at the moment—that is until I had to shift my computer into my neighbor’s personal space to place my drink in its little cup indentation on the tray table. And, my back hurts now. Ew, next song.
I have TV at home, so I really don’t feel the need to—Oh, dammit, I forgot to set the VCR for Sunday’s Nostradamus thing on Discovery, someone tape or TiVo it for me—watch any while I’m on the plane. I am perfectly content with music, but must at least satisfy that urge to play some kind of videogame. Maybe Bill’s game (he’s a programmer at work), Mad Bomber. Yes, Bill’s game is on Virgin America, since he’s a big Linux freak. But, he’s got a cute kid:
Very much the laughter generator, that one.There is a radio station, possibly accessed via satellite like the television programming, and greyed out options for an onboard reading library and future internet. Such a total let-down not to be online. I had to type up this entire entry in Microsoft Word. And, I’ve just finished ordering yet another orange juice. I loves my juices. Take that as you wish. I am not paying $6 for mini bottles of alcohol, thank you. But I will rock out to “Billie Jean”, no matter how much of a dork I look like sitting here, rocking out, working on this entry. I should be working on my game proposal for Torchwood and BBC America, but I’d rather save that for a time when I’ll actually be more comfortably seated than my current partial repose. Oh, do I love the noise cancel. Such an excellent ability to cancel out the ambient noises of the aircraft, other passengers, and the flight staff. I would love to sleep right now as well, but I’m so immersed in what is mounted in front of me that I don’t want to pull myself away from it, but alas, I shall have to as my computer is still dying and I don’t want to mess with any chargers or cables at the moment. I will be landing sooner or later, anyway, so that I can give my final conclusive report. All Virgin has to do now is fix their internet thingies, provide better assistance, and fix those delays, and maybe they’ll get a better review from me.
I’m off to game! Games offered include:
The tactile response on the controller is incredibly sub-par, made the whole playing DOOM on a plane not that much fun. Kept getting killed, and couldn't tell where it was coming from...
Okay, I'm done for now. Maybe some more later on, if you'd like that sort of thing.
February 26, 2007 - "Shopping Cart Hell"
So, I'm mindlessly pushing my shopping cart in the impulse-buy-line-from-hell at Fry's, and I accidentally bump the person ahead of me.
He turns, and informs me that I've hit him; I apologize, and back up about a foot. Usually, it'd just end there, we'd continue our lives, and nothing more would come of it, right? Wrong.
He turns around again and tells me that "normally, it'd be okay if you hit me, but I've got a bum leg." Okay. And, what do you want me to do?
He turns around again, "Do you drive like that?"
Okay, time to speak again, "I don't see how you can equate the complex act of driving..." (it was really late and I was sleepy, makes me bitter and somewhat coherent) "...with the simple act of pushing a shopping cart, but no, I don't drive like this." He became visibly irritated.
He turns back, and turns around again as we creep forwards in the line, "Well, you just have to be patient. We're not goin' anywhere fast right now." So, in my head, I'm thinking: "I have a 'bum' leg, and a previous wrist, back, and shoulder injury. You don't hear me complaining and trying to drag sympathy out of a stranger. Geez, just let it go, dude. Are you so lonely for the interaction of other people that this moment is just gold for you?"
But, my reply comes back as this, "Look, working your sob story on me isn't going to make me feel guilty for you. I apologized for what I did, now let it go. And, I've been blessed with the power to ignore people. Wait...see, I can't hear you anymore." And I started humming the Britney Spears "Crazy" song. He becomes annoyed, turns back, and doesn't turn around again.
It's not rude. It's just being me.
May 15, 2007 - "Lee Numerology"
Many of you have probablyexperienced this little factor of my quirkiness: I have a thing aboutnumbers, and it falls into categories that I haven't yet begun toexplain. But, I'll do it now. It's almost a subset of some OCD-inducedtheory, but not really. Although, it does govern almost everything inmy life.
To start, I'm primarily concerned with numbers in the ones place rather than anything else from the tenths place on, exceptfor random instances where the complete number matters to me. Those arequite numerous, and will just be mentioned whenever I encounter them;i.e, not here.
For the purpose of the brief illustration, I'll stick to whole numbered, positive integers.
1 - 3 - These numbers are fine. I don't feel any different about them when they are on their own.Paired with any other number, that feeling changes. But, for the firstthree numbers in this workout, these are pretty much meaningless to me.One exception, I do prefer the number 2 to the number 1 or 3.
4, 6, 8- Being even numbers, they are divisible by my preferred first clusternumber, 2. Therefore, I prefer these even numbers to oddnumbers...unless the larger number pairs are also divisible by 3, thenI prefer the number even more. Unless, upon adding the digits downuntil rendering a single number from 1 to 9, that number is odd, then Idon't like the number pair.
5, 9 - Bad numbers, no. Exception only if upon adding the digits down to a single digit renders an odd number that is not divisible by 3, then I'm good.
7 - Neutral, but preferred over number 2, and only second to 13.
0- If used to create an even number, not divisible by 3, then numbercreated is positive in outlook, otherwise the digit by itself has nosignificance or importance.
Numbered Pairs, 10 - 20
10 - Of the numbered pairs, this is the most preferred number, second being 13, followed by 20.
11- While it meets my dislike of certain odd numbers, the addition of thedigits renders 2 and brings a positive aspect to the number.
12- If this number didn't also represent the letter "L" in the Americanalphabet, it wouldn't pass my criteria, becoming 3 after addition,being divisible by 3 as well. Positive, just barely.
13 - Born on the 13th of November, and addition deals 4, which is divisible by 2.
14- Without resorting to digit addition, I'm fine with this number if itmeans that I can avoid 15. After addition, we render 5, which is ano-no, chucking this number out of the window. But, if doing so moves me to 15, I'll settle for 14.
15- Don't appreciate this number because it is divisible by three, itsaddition factor is divisible by three, and it has the number 5 withinit. All bad.
16 - Addition yields 7, which is fine. Division by 2, not 3.
17 - Addition yields 8, which is divisible by 2 and is an even number. Doubly good.
18, 20- Addition renders 9 and 2, respectively. While I don't like 9 on itsown, the multiplication of 9 times 2 renders 18 which is stilldivisible by 2. By producing the same result as addition of its digits,18 barely skates by.
19 - Possession of the 9 digit wouldnormally kill this number. It's also not divisible by 2 or 3. Additionof the digits renders 10, which in turn renders 1. Out of sheerpreference for the number 2, 19 is chucked out. And, since I like 18& 20, I have no problem ditching 19.
June 20, 2007 - "PUPPIES!"
I have these thoughts every now and again that make me feel that maybeI'm not who I think I am. That's I'm not Lee Almodovar, or at least,I'm not who Lee Almodovar is. I mean, I am Lee Almodovar. But, I don'tknow if my likes, dislikes, personality, intelligence, demeanor,knowledge, etc is truly mine or if its the result of a persona that hasbeen implanted within me.
Wondering if I am me, or if this was a fabrication of something greater than me.
But,every now and then, a surge of adrenaline pulsates through my veins andI'm jolted into this fabricated reality.
September 8, 2007 - "This Side Up"
Let's break this thing down into bite sized paragraphs to thoroughly explain the degradation of airline service.
I always anticipate that traffic on the 101-N will be bad, especially headed closer to San Francisco. This being said, I did take ample amount of time—excuse me for a moment, I have to move; I hate being around other people—to allow for a bit of traffic congestion. I was pretty much denied that cushion when BART decided to take an extra twenty minutes to leave for the airport from the Millbrae Station. It's only one stop away! At least my parking is paid for four days in their parking structure, otherwise I’d have a bigger issue to settle.
Now, I’m greatly appreciative of the fact that BART connects to SFO. If I weren’t, I’d be parking at or near the airport and spending way more—oh my god, “Holiday” is playing in the terminal—money than I’d absolutely have to spend. However, as I write this, I’m sitting at gate A10 of the International terminal—for a domestic flight, no less—devoid of free internet and stuck firmly in the notion that airlines should not launch with false promises. The few will be listed as thus:
Virgin Airlines has publicized both online and in print the excellence of their fleet. Well, while the name “Virgin” has a certain degree of respect and wonder attached to the name, my initial airport impression of the airline has been anything but the respect it deserves. I cannot be mad at them for my tardiness, but I can be a little peeved at the way it was handled. While they were courteous and helpful at all times, it was not the most efficient method of handling a customer.
To start off, I arrived fully aware that I was not going to even set foot on my plane, so I was ready for standby or confirmed standby. I opted for confirmed standby. I don’t want a "maybe I’ll get on the plane." Fuck that. So, twenty-five dollars later, I’m at the gate. But before that, there this wonderful tidbit of false advertising.
I asked the counter people if the Ethernet connection was operational. No. Not for a year. But, there’s WiFi. Except…that’s not going to be operational for a year either. And, it’ll be an extra fee. What. The. Fuck? Cue the eyeroll, I gather my ticket and carry-on luggage and practically stomp off, thoroughly disappointed at being cut off from the world for three hours (wait in terminal + flight time + luggage claim + drive home times), and prepare for the security line.
Oh, does this bring me to another awesome point. I’m carrying a 1800Flowers.com floral arrangement, which I know is going to set off the x-ray machine both for organic and dense material. I’m expecting this, so I go through the motions: jacket off, laptop out of bag in its own bin with camcorder, laptop bag and everything else in another bin, shoes off in a bin by themselves. I walk through the detector, and pick up my jacket, laptop, laptop bag, camcorder, wallet, shoes and boarding pass. My floral arrangement is being inspected, as expected, by TSA. TSA aside, let’s return to the matter at hand—Virgin America. And where are the outlets located on the plane? Under the armrest area, almost below the seats. No, that’s perfectly alright, I wanted to be uncomfortable and run the risk of unplugging both the non-working Ethernet and my power cord, thanks.
Let’s continue this when I’m actually on the aircraft. I’d like to preserve some battery power just in case their power system is non-functional. So, a passenger walks up and says there’s a delay. Cue the pissed-off walking, I’m headed off to find some sort of representative. Why the fuck is there a delay now?
A few members of the in-flight crew just appeared at the counter at around 5:30PM, the time that boarding was supposed to commence. They walked up to a few passengers and asked us if this was the correct gate for Virgin bound to Los Angeles at 6:15PM. I’m very much hopeful that the flight crew knows this is the gate, I would at least expect the in-flight crew to know what flight they’re on and where they’re departing from.
Ok, so the aircraft is a little impressive, possessing that unique Virgin, 60s feel to the entire plane, no matter how much more cramped it feels. Leather seats, movable headrests, Red Hat Linux-run touch screen computers (they went through the boot-up sequence as soon as we started rolling towards the runway—geek paradise!), and with my noise-cancel headphones and the 3000 MP3s onboard the aircraft, I’m happy at the moment. The flight attendants could be better looking, though. It really wouldn’t hurt.The most annoying thing thus far has got to be the fact that all activity to your touchscreen is interrupted when the flight staff wants to announce something. I see the safety in it, but still. Pausing to explain to us how to use—OMG, Michael Jackson’s “Bad”—the touchscreen system when it’s practically self-explanatory is just a pain in and of itself. “In and of itself.” Ugh. Such a bad phrase. Remind me never to use it again. At least my laptop fits very comfortably on the tray table, which does slide forward to accommodate even the bulkiest computer. The whole whiteness of the seat is contrasted beautifully by the internal lighting scheme of blue and purple, but I can’t help but feel that I’m sitting in an iPod.
And first class is incredibly plush, but still not worth the $150+ price tag for a, albeit horribly delayed, one-hour flight. The inflight food ordering system dispenses drinks, snacks, meals and other items, all charged joyfully to your credit card, of which can be slid on the touchscreen or the controller/remote. I’m sitting next to two delightful young women that are currently playing old-school DOOM next to me while the other one is watching a music video. It only took me a few minutes to tap through the system and quickly form a music songlist so that I could get to typing away on my computer with its dwindling battery. But, no problem there, a short reach underneath the front side of the seat reveals ONE OUTLET SHARED BY TWO SEATS for power, as well as the NON-FUNCTIONAL RJ-45 port and a USB port. The free items of food are also ordered via the touchscreen, at any time once available, and brought to you by the flight staff. Beats having to reach up awkwardly and press a button, and then inform someone of your desires. I might take a look at the gaming system in a few minutes.
Unfortunately, the tray table is not spacious enough to accommodate both a laptop computer and a drink. Totally their fail. As observed, first class suffers this problem as well.
A summary of the snack offered on board, and their prices:
- Breakfast Oak Bar - $1.00
- Organic Cranberry Nutbar - $1.00
- Strawberry Fruit Leather - $1.00
- Buffalo Wing Chips - $2.00
Not that I’m in any need of being filled up by things that would charge a dollar to my debit/credit card. I don’t exactly have the electronic funds available. I do have cash on me that I now wish I had left on the card. I’ve been without any form of sustenance since 2PM. I’m not a happy camper, but at least the flight is comfortable at the moment—that is until I had to shift my computer into my neighbor’s personal space to place my drink in its little cup indentation on the tray table. And, my back hurts now. Ew, next song.
I have TV at home, so I really don’t feel the need to—Oh, dammit, I forgot to set the VCR for Sunday’s Nostradamus thing on Discovery, someone tape or TiVo it for me—watch any while I’m on the plane. I am perfectly content with music, but must at least satisfy that urge to play some kind of videogame. Maybe Bill’s game (he’s a programmer at work), Mad Bomber. Yes, Bill’s game is on Virgin America, since he’s a big Linux freak. But, he’s got a cute kid:
Very much the laughter generator, that one.There is a radio station, possibly accessed via satellite like the television programming, and greyed out options for an onboard reading library and future internet. Such a total let-down not to be online. I had to type up this entire entry in Microsoft Word. And, I’ve just finished ordering yet another orange juice. I loves my juices. Take that as you wish. I am not paying $6 for mini bottles of alcohol, thank you. But I will rock out to “Billie Jean”, no matter how much of a dork I look like sitting here, rocking out, working on this entry. I should be working on my game proposal for Torchwood and BBC America, but I’d rather save that for a time when I’ll actually be more comfortably seated than my current partial repose. Oh, do I love the noise cancel. Such an excellent ability to cancel out the ambient noises of the aircraft, other passengers, and the flight staff. I would love to sleep right now as well, but I’m so immersed in what is mounted in front of me that I don’t want to pull myself away from it, but alas, I shall have to as my computer is still dying and I don’t want to mess with any chargers or cables at the moment. I will be landing sooner or later, anyway, so that I can give my final conclusive report. All Virgin has to do now is fix their internet thingies, provide better assistance, and fix those delays, and maybe they’ll get a better review from me.
I’m off to game! Games offered include:
- Anagramarama
- DOOM
- Tower Toppler
- Gem Drop X
- Primate Plunge
- Rocks ‘n’ Diamonds
- Circus Linux!
- XMAJONGG
- Vectoroids
- PENGUIN COMMAND
- Mad Bomber
- Do’SSiZo’La
The tactile response on the controller is incredibly sub-par, made the whole playing DOOM on a plane not that much fun. Kept getting killed, and couldn't tell where it was coming from...
Okay, I'm done for now. Maybe some more later on, if you'd like that sort of thing.
California Rain Storm
I live on the technical fourth floor.
I can see the tops of trees.
They are blowing at 45-degree angles and the rain is about that angle too.
At least my plants are being watered.
I can see the tops of trees.
They are blowing at 45-degree angles and the rain is about that angle too.
At least my plants are being watered.
Giggling Fit
Realized something today.
When I don't eat for long periods of time, the simplest act can keep me entertained for at least an hour. Video to follow later.
When I don't eat for long periods of time, the simplest act can keep me entertained for at least an hour. Video to follow later.