Reeto

Okay, I'll admit it: Burritos are one of my absolute, all-time favorite foods. No joke. A good burrito ranks right there with spaghetti and meatballs, bratwursts and sauerkraut, and cereal. One of the basic food groups, as far as I'm concerned.

The problem is, I haven't had a burrito in...well, a long, long time. Not for at least, at least, a month, probably more. No La Parilla over break, not even a Taco Bell to keep my mind off of how much I miss a good 'rito and 'rita (It goes without saying, of course, that the best drink to have with a burrito is a margarita--they were made for each other).

Imagine my delight when I found out that there was a burrito joint here in Cambridge. Mexican food is only a recent phenomenon here in England. To say that I was out of my chair in moments is an understatement--it's not just the food, it's also a taste of home, fueled by a deep wellspring of hunger.

And lo, I was not disappointed. Indeed, I could frequent this place. It's a typical La Parilla/Taco Del Mar/Agave/Chipotle/Q'doba place, but with one major distinction: the menu lists the burrito as "Big Ass Burrito." I knew that they were not messing around. And it lived up to its name.

:3

ps, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they have a van that isn't too far from where I work (probably a 15/20 minute walk, depending) to make their operation mobile. Overjoyed, I am. And hungry. Hmm....is today Tuesday? ;)

Pictures from Edinburgh

Oh, almost forgot, I've uploaded my pictures from Edinburgh.

To see them on Facebook.

To see them on Picasa (as well as some pictures from the summer and fall):

Cambridge (First couple of days)

I was supposed to meet Alice Thompson at St Edmunds and completely missed her: George had printed a map off of Google and drawn in where the college was—which would’ve worked, except the map actually led me to Churchill College and I didn’t scout it out ahead of time. I eventually found St Eds, but too late to meet Alice.

I wandered around Cambridge for a while more, before going back to the house. Not a very exciting day, but everything gets started in earnest tomorrow.

Cambridge: Day 2 (Jan 4)

My first day. I have an office here, which was cold until I found that I could control the heat (I discovered this on Day 3, Jan 5). I went out for a late lunch and ended up having a very good “full breakfast” at a little place here. It was very good, and worth going back to. I met with Dr Liht and Alice Thompson, who are both part of the program.

After work, I dropped my bag off at the house and walked for a long while. I eventually found a pub for a late dinner, but was more interested in getting a sense of the lay of the town (hint: I’m getting there). The entire place is beautiful, so I’ll have to start snapping a bunch of pictures. The pub I went to for dinner was having “quiz night” and the round I was there for was a bunch of US-themed questions like “What state is the ‘Bluegrass State?”, “What is Hillary Clinton’s maiden name?” or “Finish this 1957 movie title: 3:10 to ___.” I felt very smart, even though I wasn’t participating. I was giving the answers to the guys sitting next to me, who also weren’t playing, but were still guessing.

Travel Day (Jan 2)

Andy picked me up early (930) and we got on the road for Cambridge. His parents live there, and he was going anyway, so he offered me a ride. It was a long day with sloppy roads—plenty of ice and slush. Laura switched between sleeping and singing in the backseat, while Andy and I talked about a bunch of different things. Not much to really say about the day, but we got into Cambridge around 515p and went out for dinner at a pub (I had sausage and mash).

I got to the house I’m staying at here, which belong to some friends of George. They’re very nice people (Kate and Peter Crofts) who’ve welcomed me in. I have a stable internet connection for the first time since leaving the states and had an email from Carsey in which she needed Sandy’s number—follow up emails established that her car had been broken into and a bunch of her stuff was stolen. Needless to say, this stresses me out, and I have trouble sleeping.

Edinburgh: Day 3 (New Years Day)

I went back up to the Royal Mile and walked around for a while. I ended up crossing the North Bridge and walking up the road a while to take in quite a vista. While doing some gift shopping for Madre, I found out that not only was I completely out of cash, but my debit card had stopped working. Of course, it’s New Years Day, so the banks are all closed, and tomorrow is the weekend. I can’t withdraw cash, I can’t make credit transactions, and I have 30 pence in my pocket. However, I did get a very nice present for Madre, so that’s a plus. I manage to get hold of the folks and give them the 1800 number for my card (I’m blocked from making the call from the UK for some reason). They find out that the bank shut down my card because they’d seen transactions from Scotland and weren’t able to get hold of me (because I was in Scotland). So they were working in my best interest, and for that, I thank them, but it was still frustrating. Mom and Dad were able to reactivate the card because they’re still cosigners on the account, which makes me wonder why when First Interstate was unable to get hold of me, they didn’t try calling the Padres. But whatevs, crisis resolved.

The Wilkes and I went out for dinner one last time and I left immediately after. I wanted to give them some time together as a family (and I also wanted to explore as much as I could one last time). I walked the Royal Mile again, walked around the University of Edinburgh campus, the Meadows, and went back to “The Last Drop” for a pint. It was definitely awkward being by myself in a crowded pub on New Years, but I stuck out, had my pint, and started to go back to the guesthouse.

Edinburgh: Day 2 (New Years Eve!)

Eep! I overslept! Breakfast is served every day from 9-930, and I woke up at 1030—guess the jetlag was serious about doing business. I decided in perfectly rational fashion that seeing as how I’d already missed breakfast and didn’t have to meet George until 1230, I might as well get the most of it. So I went back to sleep. I know, I know, what a way to waste a morning in Scotland, but it really did help. I really hadn’t stopped moving very much for the past several days and had crossed 5 time zones without sleep.

I was a few minutes late to the “Scottish Whisky Experience” to meet George, Andy, and Laura, and apparently missed them completely. I went into the whisky store and poked around. I found some very interesting things: one batch of whisky that had been distilled in May 2008, so it was still clear and hadn’t aged enough to drink, a bottle of whisky that sold for just over 1900 lbs (that’s more than $3000), and probably no less than 100 varieties of whisky for sale. I waited around outside for around an hour, but never connected with them. Once it started snowing in earnest, I finally called it and went back to the guesthouse, where I laid low until 4.30 (only a couple of hours) until I went back over to the apartment. I managed to call home (having gotten an international calling card) before we went out to a pub for dinner. Dad would appreciate that this pub had 110 different malt whiskies. Oh yes. I didn’t have any, but I did have a Scottish lager with dinner (steak pie). We walked around for a while yet, then went back to the apartment to watch “A Dinner for One, or The Ninetieth Birthday” which is a German tradition (the entire thing is on Youtube, check it out). I left shortly after this and walked up to the Royal Mile, waiting for midnight. There was a ton of activity—between a massive festival on Princes’ Street, large flaming balls on the Royal Mile (there are pictures, I don’t really know how else to describe them), massive gaggles of increasingly drunk people of all ages and one lonesome American (me), it was quite a sight. I walked the entire length of the Royal Mile, trying to find Calton Hill (I needed to actually be across the bridge on Princes’ Street instead of the Royal Mile). After looking at the Scottish Parliament building (a fascinating, beautiful building—all modern architecture) and the closed gates of Holyrood Park for a while, I walked back up the Royal Mile. Along the way, many people wished me “Happy New Year”, including a drunk man who kept shaking and kissing my hand.

My watch says it’s nearing midnight. I get as far up the Royal Mile as I can, coming to St Giles Cathedral and then HAPPY NEW YEAR. A waitress from comes running out from an Italian restaurant, the rest of the staff a few seconds after her—they stand just behind me. Two older women are in front of me, hugging each other. Then the sky lights up with fireworks, coming from the castle. It’s wonderful. One woman in front of me pulls a bottle of champagne from her bag and her friend pulls out 2 glass flutes. They pop the cork and toast the New Year.

Happy 2010!

I start my walk back. On the way, many more “Happy New Years” are exchanged with various folks. I don’t think anyone’s sad to start a fresh decade after the “Naughts.” There is a pair of girls who are way drunk, giggling about who knows what. It’s hard not to notice how one has a skirt so short that it seems to defy the laws of physics. I’m laughing inside, but exchange a new year greeting nonetheless. I finally get back to the guesthouse, wondering if it’s a tad late (130 or so by the time I’m finally back), but no, I spy the landladies popping open another bottle of champagne with friends and know all is well.

Twenty-ten. Here we go.

Edinburgh: Day 1 (Dec 30)

Okay, I’ve been meaning to get this done…there just doesn’t seem to be much of a rush now that I have internet, but time is slipping away.

--

First morning in Scotland! I had breakfast at the guesthouse—it’s good, but not great. I’m not sure that it justifies 50lbs/night, but it is Hogmanay. Point of interest: Hogmanay is the largest New Year festival in Europe and it makes its home in Edinburgh. So I was not only trying to find accommodations at New Year, but also New-Year-on-Crack. And for a warm room, a semi-private bathroom (private in that I was the only one using it, but it wasn’t connected to my room), a hot-cooked breakfast, and a friendly landlady, it wasn’t too bad.

For the uninitiated, I suppose I should describe the breakfasts here. Unfortunately it wasn’t a “full Scottish breakfast”, but it was a “full English breakfast” instead. A full English breakfast consists of: tea or coffee, toast, baked beans, fried tomato, sausage, bacon, and eggs. Also, English bacon is amazing—it’s not the fatty cut like American bacon, but rather pure meat. A full Scottish breakfast consists of all of the things in the English breakfast, but also porridge with a dollop of whisky and blood pudding. If I could’ve taken a picture of breakfast without being rude, I would have. I’ll try to get one here in Cambridge.

Anyway. I wandered around Edinburgh for the morning before meeting with George and his family for lunch at a pub called “The Last Drop.” I thought this was a clever way of referring to finishing your ale or lager, but actually it’s because it was where the old gallows used to be and “the last drop” is in reference to hangings. Pleasant, isn’t it? For lunch, I had haggis, tatties, and neep. Now, haggis has a fairly poor reputation in the states, but hot damn was it good. I actually wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I did, and it continued to grow on me upon later reflection. Point of interest: “tatties and neep” is an English/Scottish way of saying “mashed potato and mashed turnip,” both of which were also very good.

I went back George’s apartment to discuss some details of the work I’m doing with his program for the rest of the afternoon while Hannah, Andy, and Laura went to see a panto (theater specifically aimed at children) performance of Robinson Crusoe.

We had dinner at the apartment and I had a wee dram of some amazing whisky—Edradour. It comes from the smallest distillery in Scotland, just outside of Edinburgh. I had the “cask strength” variety that was 60.2% alc/vol—those who know I don’t drink much whisky will know that this was a trial for me. But it was very, very smooth and exquisite. I’m still trying to get my hands on some for Padre, but it was very expensive. I made my way back to the Grassmarket and then wandered around from there for around an hour or so. I was feeling the jetlag really kicking in, though, so I made it back to the guesthouse in fairly short order and that was that.

Cam and Its Bridge

Whew. I'm here in Cambridge. But where have I been for the last week? Scotland!

Recap time, pardon the text-flood.

Where to begin...Okay, I left the states on the evening of the 28th, from Chicago. I had a meal of shitty Chinese food, not really of the Bozeman Mall variety--no, it was pretty much just shitty. I got on the plane (finally) and found my seat--window right over the wing. There were large, loud, obnoxious families (I'm talking entire clans here) on the plane, as well as the obligatory screaming babies. No tuberculosis patients, however. I couldn't sleep on the plane, which comes as no surprise. Far too wired for that. The airline gave us dinner at around 9pm ET, which really should've been avoided. The salad was actually not bad, but the "pasta" was..um...airline food?

Eventually giving up on sleeping, I started writing--I'm recording a different journal of my days in print form for Carsey. Eventually I ran out of things to write for the time being and watched some TV instead. It is sad how quickly you run through the 3 or 4 shows they loop continuously on airplanes. Public Enemies was offered, but it is nigh impossible to actually start something on the plane--you always come in in the middle, which wouldn't have been any fun, so I skipped it.

Eventually, one loooooong plane flight later, we landed in Germany! As I navigated the Frankfurt airport, I found myself in 2, count 'em 2, additional security checkpoints (one of which was guarded by an armed guard--like really armed, not sidearm-armed). Eventually, I made it to my gate, from which I took a bus to the plane. Apparently it's big here to not board from the building itself, but to have the plane on the tarmac and then go to it instead.

So I'm on the plane, and the German airline, Lufthansa, was exceedingly civilized--they gave us sandwiches in addition to drinks! None of this "3 pretzels if you're lucky" crap, we got sammiches! And for being cheese and coleslaw sammiches, they were damn tasty. I start to nod off (finally) once we start making our final descent into Edinburgh...but am awoken some 20 minutes later by the woman next to me who exclaimed, "We're going to Manchester!"

Apparently, there was too much snow at the Edinburgh airport for us to land safely, so we're flying halfway across the country (this is not an exaggeration) to land while we wait. Unfortunately, there are no more sammiches to be had. :( We eventually got word that the snow had stopped, and we were airborne once again! Two flights for the price of one! Which would actually be a whole lot cooler if I'd either liked flying or was rested/showered/et cetera'd. We landed in Edinburgh only an hour or so behind schedule, when all was said and done. Luckily, the airline was very nice about everything, very informative, very polite...It was like the airline didn't hate us, which is not a feeling I get in the US.

I took a bus from the airport to the city center and while trying to navigate through the dark and slush, I got completely lost--due to my stupidity in turning left when I should have turned right. I ended up lugging my suitcase through Edinburgh for a very long time before finally arriving at my B&B. Ten minutes later, I was out again to meet George for dinner.

Editor's Note: For sake of the kittens, I'm not going to describe everything in Edinburgh in one long post. I'll update for each day separately.

I had a very enjoyable next few days. I met George's wife, Hannah, who is expecting a baby on January 9! I also met his brother, Andy, and his niece, Laura. When I wasn't spending time with them, I was wandering around Edinburgh. I easily walked several miles per day (in fact, I walked the Royal Mile several times per day, so there). I spent most of my time in the Old Town area, but also ventured up to New Town and to the Scottish Parliament building at night (unfortunately, no pictures from that).

As per my freshly added editor's note above, I'm actually not going to keep going on Edinburgh tonight, mostly because I'm tired and it deserves justice. So...I'll go through my backlog and get updates for each day separately.

Which brings my to Cambridge! I ended up riding here with George's brother, Andy, who was driving to see his parents. Otherwise, I'd've taken the train, and that would've been much more of a hassle than it actually was. It was a long drive (930-515), and unfortunately, I couldn't help at all--driving on the left and a stickshift. But we had good conversation. I'm meeting with the research coordinator tomorrow afternoon and will quickly get this into overdrive!

Right now, I'm laying in bed with a hot water bottle at the foot of the bed. Oh. My. God. Best invention ever. I'm getting on for home, even if Kad'ika tries to eat it.

That's all for tonight, but I've got pictures and stories from the past week to share yet!

Crossing the Pond

Apparently, one must pay for wifi in most airports, so this is from my phone (apologies in advance). I'm on a Boeing 777, window seat. There are screaming babies and large families. The flight here was mercifully quick and painless. I'd like to write more now, but even on a Droid, it's tedious at best.

More from Europe!

Scotland Bound! (Via Frankfurt, Via Chicago)

Sitting in the Cleveland airport, waiting for the flight to Chicago. There's a snowstorm somethig fierce moving in, making the roads sloppy. I had a good night in the hotel, watched some celebrity poker (not nearly as entertaining as Casino Royale) before turning in for the night. Carsey was going to try to come see me in the morning, but the roads got too poor. Her poor Honda Civic (Heeyo!) was slipping and sliding, never a good sign. I had a leisurely morning, a couple of cups of coffee, and some Apple-Cinnamon yogurt. Still have some tea in my pocket...no idea when I'll get a chance (before Scotland) to drink it.

The flight out of this gate is just leaving, which means that as soon as it does, I can go get a seat assignment. The airport is busy, but not prohibitively so. Or perhaps I've just gotten used to Cleveland-Hopkins' procedures.

The snow storm is turning into a whiteout. I can barely see out the windows now. Fuuuuuuun times :)

Update: I did see the cutest thing while I was waiting to go through security, but I didn't manage to get a good picture of it. A man had a red backpack with a teddy bear sticking out the top of it. :3

The Trip, Day -1

Midnight. I have yet to start packing. Fine, you win, new suitcase. It begins.

2am. I finish packing.

All night--I can't sleep from horrible heartburn. :\ I take it back--Now, it begins.

--

Billings-Logan International Airport. We tried to leave with some time for food, but last minute delays on my part made that plan fail. I was having problems checking in online--eventually got it sorted, but still couldn't print off boarding passes. Finally get a "seat request" ticket and make my way to the gate. 20 minutes of standing in line later, I finally get a seat (the actual seat-getting part of it took 30 seconds and I was 3rd in line, but the woman at the counter was having some problems, apparently). We fly.

Arrive Salt Lake City, ass-end of the airport. Still, it's not bad. A long walk later, and I'm at my next gate, which is merciful. Thankfully, there were no hitches getting on to this flight. Airbus 319 to Detroit. The seat next to me was empty, which was nice. I stretched out (a tiny bit, because the seat next to the empty one had someone in it) and read my book. Note, by this time, it's mid-afternoon and I have yet to have anything to eat, except for a little bag of nibblies (peanuts). We fly again.

Arrive Detroit. Another hellishly long walk. I decide to not get McDonalds along the way--I don't entirely hate my stomach all the time (just usually)--and hurry along to my gate. Unfortunately, Detroit charges you for wifi, so I have to close my laptop. The gate agent announces that they're looking for volunteers to give up their seats and get the next flight to Cleveland. I hop on this opportunity--a hotel room, food vouchers (!!!), and a $400 flight voucher. So I stand in line. Rather, I am the line. There are two gate agents, neither of them can even so much as say "We'll be with you in one minute." No, they just ignore me. I understand that another flight is leaving from the adjacent gate (which they also man), so they're busy, but they could at least acknowledge me. Plus, I'm frittering away precious food-getting time waiting to tell them that "Yes! I'd love to give up my seat!" Finally, the flight to Ithaca leaves...and I'm still being ignored. I've been standing here for at least 20 minutes, still haven't been noticed. The flight to Cleveland starts to get ready, by which I mean that the cute flight attendant arrives at the gate. She looks at me and immediately says, "Is there anything I can help you with?" I tell her I'd like to volunteer, so she relays my message to the gate agent who doesn't seem to care. Truth be told, she's getting ruder and ruder to other customers as well. Oh well, the FA was nice (and cute). Finally, I get my name on the list.

I'm waiting to hear if they need to give up my seat. They do, but tell me to stick around. Because of a couple of no-shows, suddenly my seat is freed up...but just as they're about to tell me, the no-shows show up! But there's 3 of them, and there's only 2 open seats. So the gate agents give them to the other volunteer and me, both of us wanted to stay. I'm the last one on the plane, trying to cram my duffel into an overhead bin on the CRJ-200. The flight attendant helps me and is still nice (and cute). We sit on the tarmac for a while, waiting to be deiced. Finally, we're in the air. "You are now allowed to use approved electronic devices." Five minutes later, "We're preparing for our descent into Cleveland, please stow electronic devices." 23 minutes from wheels-up to wheels-down. So a quick, painless flight (with a cute flight attendant).

I arrive in Cleveland, tired and hungry (I never did get food, so it's been ~25 hours since I've had anything but nibblies to eat). Finally, I get a room at the Hilton Garden Inn. It's a nice room, king bed and full breakfast. Not money I wanted to spend, but c'est la vie. Mom and Dad are right; it is better than sleeping in the airport until 6am, then getting checked in, and then doing...something for another 8 hours.

Everything is closed for food, but I get a Hot Pocket calzone from the front desk "pantry." I might go there in the morning to get a razor as well. Might. I might just wait to shave until I arrive in Edinburgh.

Day -1 is over. Tomorrow, the real fun begins.

Update: Oh, yeah, I still have heartburn. It's been shitty all day. Mom thinks I have an ulcer, which stress probably doesn't help much. Ugh. Maybe I'll invest in some Tums tomorrow, that'd be nice. I don't think I want to fly Cleveland->Chicago->Frankfurt->Edinburgh with heartburn again.

I also need to get a European (UK) power cord for my laptop. Radio Shack said they were standard, and I hope they are.

When you're caught between the moon and New York City

...you oughta do something about it. Okay, I give up, I don't actually know how that song goes. But it was playing during the credits of a movie I just watched, so it's still fresh in mine head.

Hum hum hum, what's new in the world of Kit?

I figured out what I believe to be one of my defining characteristics. It's something I see in myself on many levels, from the mundane to the esoteric. That's that I love a challenge. I love a fight. I love an adventure. Now what do I mean by that? It's not just the physical happenings of the world, though that's certainly true. I go and find the things that are liable to leave a mark on me, and I do them. Whether it's my first kayaking trip being down a series of rapids, or applying to a school I know nothing about, or waking up and deciding to drive 5 hours to a theatre camp I'm not enrolled in, or talking to that cute girl who works in the Con library, or.... the list goes on.

It's hard to articulate, and sounds incredibly trite, I'm sure, but the point of it is that life isn't fun without a good challenge. And I know how much I revel in that. And I like that about me; it's what doesn't let me stop, even when all the chips are down. I know people who can't do that. They freeze up when a challenge arrives, whether its in the form of a massive work burden, or emotional turmoil or just plain old depression. Hey, I get it, too. And I'm surely one who's been unsure of what the next move ought to be. But one of the things I'm most pleased with about myself is that, even then, I'm moving forwards.

I was recently feeling down because of too much routine in my life. And then it dawned on me. As I later told one of my closest friends as I was baking in the heat of Bozeman, "Nobody's going to change my routine for me. If I'm dissatisfied, I've only got myself to blame. So fix it, soldier." And I did. It's like I told my cat this morning as he was whining to have someone watch him eat: "Become a pioneer of the inevitable." Now, I was telling him to just eat, even if no one was there, but it rang true for me.

--

Huh, so that wasn't supposed to delve into the kitPsyche, but whatevs. I feel great, and that's what really counts.

What I don't feel great about is George Lucas's latest shitproject...I mean, the Clone Wars animated film coming out in a month. Seriously. Now, I'm about one of the biggest Star Wars geeks you will ever meet, and even I don't feel I can see it. And this is coming from a guy who got early tickets for Revenge of the Sith, because I'm just that cool (Yeah, yeah, I saw it before it opened :3)

I bought Pokemon Diamond a couple of weeks ago, but have yet to play it. This is due, largely, to one fact: The copy I bought was used, and the previous owner did not delete his save. There is a shitload of 'manz I can't just delete. It's like being given a gift that you just throw away. Seriously. Like, whoa.

Although I like to ramble a bit, and could ramble a bit more, I think I'm going to read or play Mass Effect or something.

Adieu
gun

--

Edit:

D'oh! >_<

And that, my dear, is why I don't read emails from my past. Especially not ones where I bare my soul and tell you that I love you, or the ones where you tell me you can tell me anything, that you should have trusted me, and that you love me.

Frack.

I'm a questionable person doing fashionable things.

A little lift from my depressing last post. I'm watching the first season of Saturday Night Live. It's awesome. Some old school humor, right here. My cat is sleeping on my couch, looking pathetic. I'm working on large-scale, mucho hush-hush intartubz projects. I spent today working at Canyon Village, fixin' problems.

I think I want to play Mass Effect. I made the mistake of starting a new game the day before Pokemon Diamond got here. Luckily for ME, Greg is being lazy and not getting online.

The downside is that my computer is still being "repaired." I'm more than a little upset about this, even though I understand the circumstances. It's that...I turned it in 2 months ago today. That's extreme and really, really pissing me off.

Oh well. I gots a lots of stuffs in my head that ain't coming out here, so fare thee well.

Oh, yeah: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKDgkcx9ric

John Christian Antweiler, 12/25/1918 - 06/18/2008

Ahhhhlot of shit went down this week. My grandfather, who was sick for about a year now, passed away early on June 18. He was a good man, one of the best I've ever known, and I sure as hell miss him. John Christian Antweiler, may you finally rest.

...nothing I can possibly say can follow something like that. So everything else will have to wait.

Peace
gun

Pictures from the Old and the Faithful

So I got to go to Old Faithful last week on business. The live streaming webcam had gone down earlier due to Windows Updates (damn restarting the computer, windows!) and while we'd got the stream back, we needed to make some minor adjustments. And by we, I mean the Media and Planning Office, Web Team of the Division of Interpretation, Yellowstone National Park, National Park Service, Department of Interior. And by all that, I mean that I was sent to Old Faithful to take care of things.

So I went. I fixed it. It now is not prey to Windows Updates, and I managed to get the stream to automatically relaunch on a crash. It's one thing to get a program to start automatically. It's another to get processes within the program to run. Whatever, I'm awesome.

While there, I stayed and watched the Grand Old Lady herself erupt before getting a quick lunch and bugging out back to my office.

Here are the pictures of the eruption: http://picasaweb.google.com/cgplumb/OldFaithful

Cheerio, now.

'¯\(°_o)/¯'

You know there's something wrong with your day that you read more than 650 strips of a single comic archive.

You know there's some sort of sign somewhere ingrained in the fact that the site you were on crashed when you were trying to access strip #666. Now, I'm not giving credence to anything but coincidence, but wow, what a coincidence.

BULBA BULBA BULBA

My friend Anna is awesome.

A place called home

I'm back home again, after a short, painful stint in Colorado and a long, yet fun, thirteen hour drive to Yellowstone today. I'm pretty whooped, but have to get something off my chest a little bit (but I promise to tone it down considerably from the first iteration I attempt to write):

I wish you didn't make me feel so goddamned nice. Seriously. What the hell are you trying to pull? You know things about me that I haven't even thought about in over a decade and you didn't even have to pry. I ain't like that, sweetheart. Now there's very little I miss about the big O, but I'm saddened to say that you're one of those select things.

--

... Okay, so that's probably going to come back and bite me in the ass. Whatevs, I'm not rightly caring so much at the moment. That, and I'm still attempting to get a normal internet connection (fighting with my sister already for our Verizon aircard) and adjusting back to being amongst the mountains.

Also, I'm a bit amazed at the higher-than-normal levels of synchronicity that have been around me recently. Seriously. Once, okay, chalk that up to bizarre coincidence. Twice? It could happen. Thrice? Getting weird. Four times? Fuck. That. Shit.

Still Alive

Over the course of the past four weeks, I've been picking up all manners of video games, and happened to pop one of my all-time favorite games back into the old 'box: Portal. Granted, the first night I did, I was not entirely sober, which meant that the mindbendiness of the game was a bit of a mindfuck...but there were no repercussions, luckily.

Since then, I've been playing it more, as well as listening to the theme song, which I actually found somewhat disturbing, due to the following line:

"Now these points of data make a beautiful line / and we're out of beta, we're releasing on time."

*Spoiler Alert*

This is sung by GLaDOS after she was "killed" by Chell (the game's protagonist). Now, it's not disturbing as much that the computer is continuing to sing, as that's sorta the point of the song (GLaDOS is singing about how she's Still Alive, hence the title). The disturbing point (which I'm sure everyone and their brother had already arrived at) for me was how, at the beginning of the game, Chell sat alone in a cell with a timer counting down to zero. Her progress is tracked over a series of controlled levels, but, for some reason, the infinitely scheming GLaDOS fails to take into account the fact that Chell could escape the final trap.

...or did she? It's a little surprising that all of the areas Chell gets to after she escapes the final trap have portal-accessible areas, culminating with a wonderful battle in GLaDOS's control room. Why would GLaDOS make a mistake like that? Easy answer: She wouldn't.

We already know that Chell is a subject of an experiment...but which one? We're led to assume it's testing the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device, which is said to be untested. But, if that was the case, why would GLaDOS claim that once Chell is out in the wild (perhaps going to Black Mesa? Ha ha, that was a joke, fat chance...) that her project is "out of beta...releasing on time"? Is it not that we played a lab rat forced to play a game, but that we were actually part of a deeper, more sinister project, of which we are the moving force?

Everything about Chell's testing and subsequent escape, from the counting clock that sets her loose to her destruction of GLaDOS's control center (and GLaDOS's destruction of Chell's identity) has a feeling of a tightly controlled experiment, in which Chell was supposed to escape.

Brr. I didn't know a game could make me feel that used. I didn't beat it; it beat me through me beating it. Wow, just...wow. It makes me find a whole new level of appreciation for its multi-layered subtlety.