Archive for March, 2009

Test Run

Mar 31

Posted by jeff in Everything, Food, Geekery | 2 Comments

Idle hands, devil's workshop, etc.

Before I pack up my kitchen into little boxes, I figured I'd give this recipe a test run, and it turned out... all right. I think next time, I'm going to heat up the custard instead of just letting it cook in the oven. These also look like they're undercooked, even though I baked 'em a little longer than the recipe said and the custard's set just fine.

The flavor in the custard was good; the pastry was a little salty, but that's down to Ms. Crocker... nothing to be done about that, unless I want to make my own pastry (which I don't).

And now if you'll excuse me, I have a slight radiating pain in my chest to deal with.

Shoe-vana

Mar 28

Posted by jeff in Everything, Gear | No Comments

Boom.

Say hello to the Vasque Aether Tech SS, the most comfortable shoe I've ever worn.

After a long and arduous search, I've decided to use these on my Asia trip. They're somewhat water-resistant yet breathable, quick-drying, light (12 ounces apiece), convenient, and did I mention they're the most comfortable shoes I've ever worn?

There's only one problem, aside from the 130 problems they cost. Because they're so light, they're not all that tough. After two weeks of hard use, the uppers on one of the shoes is shredding, and those little plasto-rubber-whatever gills you see on the side are starting to peel away.

I figure one pair of these will last me 3 months of hard use before starting to really fall apart. This poses a problem, since my trip to Asia will last 3.5 months, and will end with a hike up Mt. Fuji, which I think can suitably be described as hard use. So I tried on other shoes.

God dammit, did I try on other shoes.

I bought and returned 6 or 7 pairs of trail runners and light hikers to REI and other stores, without finding any that I liked. I even took my old Merrell light hikers out for 30 miles or so on the local workout trail, just to make sure I wasn't deluding myself about how comfortable the Aether Tech is.

I wasn't.

So I went in to REI and exchanged the beat-up pair for a new pair, hoping that I just got a lemon. After inspecting the new pair for a while, it looks like this could just be how they work. The price you pay for that lightweight is durability. Sad.

But the fact remains that after wearing these things, I don't really want to spend 3.5 months tooling around in a less comfortable pair of similarly priced shoes, or my old light hikers, which would never, ever dry out properly where I'm going, and weigh twice as much.

So I went back to REI and tried to buy back the old ones at full price; "un-return them" is what I said to the confused customer service girl. That way, I'd have a kind of ratty pair to wear, which would probably last me most of the trip, and I'd just take the new pair along with me as a backup. I'm willing to carry an extra 1.5lbs for a couple months if it means I don't have to worry about foot pain, blisters, or trench foot. The extra $130 in price would suck, but hey. I'm probably never going to have another chance at a trip like this, so I may as well splurge a bit.

The weird thing is, they wouldn't let me buy the shoes back. They'd already gone into some giant bin meant for the REI used gear sale, where used/returned gear is sold at a huge markdown.

That was yesterday; the sale started this morning at 8am. So I rolled out of bed around 6am, drove up to REI and got in line. I was the only person there without a tent or a sleeping bag. I was also one of maybe three non-Caucasians I saw all morning, but that's not relevant. I'm kind of a twinkie anyway, so we'll make that two and a half.

I waited around for a while, chatting idly with my new honky chums, and when the sale opened at 8am, watched and laughed as people sprinted over to the piles of gear. Yuppies bundled up in fleece caps and fur-lined moccasins sprinted and shoved past each other to get to piles of used goods, followed by the staffers' vain cries of "No running!"

There were shrieks of delight and dismay, as some found what they were looking for, and others had theirs plucked from before their very eyes. I walked over to the shoes, had my feet trodden on a few times, and ferreted out the very same pair of shoes I'd returned a week ago.

I checked the price tag.

$16.

Wow. A full morning's entertainment, AND I saved $100.

Friday night ramble

Mar 27

Posted by jeff in BooBooBeeBoo (Angsty Melodrama), Everything | No Comments

So here I sit, savoring a cup of coffee along with this odd sensation of contented solitude. It's a feeling I was used to, not that long ago, and it's something I'm rediscovering.

It's not unlike opening your eyes early on a Saturday morning, with an empty schedule before you. You know you haven't yet fully awakened to the world, and there's a languorous, velvety warmth wrapped all around you. You're fairly certain that you're being lazy, but equally sure that nobody cares.

It's all right. But it gets kinda old after a while.

This was basically the state in which I've existed for several years; stumbling out of high school into college, then into a career, cruising through a decade with my eyes closed, my mind still wrapped in hazy half-sleep. I was becoming comfortable with the idea of this as an inevitable constant; my future as a soft-focus blur. Alone, regrettably, not exactly happy, but with no real hardship to speak of.

Safe.

Comfortable.

Then, of course, I went and got into an actual relationship.

It was astonishing.

This tiny woman, simultaneously as familiar to me as my own childhood and as alien as the minds that enjoy NASCAR,  sauntered into my life, took a casual look around, and pulled all the walls down. I was left squinting (yes, I'm aware my eyes normally look like that anyway) against the savage light of some very harsh realizations.

It wasn't really something I was ready for, so I started wrapping my life up around her, instead of facing it. So, you can kind of imagine (or if you're anyone I've talked to in the past year, you're probably already sick to hell of hearing about it) my reaction when she propped the door back up on its hinges and walked out.

Yeah. It wasn't pretty, let's just leave it at that.

So now I have most of the old walls built up again. They're familiar. They're comfortable. I'm (mostly) over her, over it, and trying to get over myself.

But it's not quite right.

I wake up early these Saturday mornings, and there's no velvety warmth behind my eyelids, there's no silky stretch and yawn. Instead there's a crackling light racing round the inside of my skull, and a hammering in my chest. I can't do anything but lie there and gasp for a while, then I have to get up and pace. It doesn't matter where. Lately, it's been up the side of Cowles Mountain. Every day. I mean, I'm starting to recognize rocks.

I think it's actually a good thing for me. Aside from getting me outside once in a while, it's once again convinced me I have to do something, and learn some things -- all those things that make me snicker cynically when other people talk about them.

You know. Like, about feelings and shit.

I'm not used to that. I'm used to analyzing things. I've grown accustomed to the idea that I can figure out most of my issues by picking them apart and thinking about each one, because I've been under the happy illusion that I'm intelligent.

Of course, I'm not intelligent. I'm mildly clever, which is not at all the same thing. It's the difference between the chimp who leads his troupe to local dominance, and one who's figured out his favorite stick makes a dandy ass wiper.

Now I'm starting to understand that it's not enough. I can rationalize away a lot of stuff, but not a purpose. I need something to do, and not for the sake of doing it, nor just because I don't really want to do anything else. I've been here before, too, and it's not exactly heartening to see how little progress I've made. If I don't make any more progress than this, so be it. But I probably shouldn't sit around and watch the next ten years pass the same way. I just have to, you know. Whatever, I'll do it tomorrow.

Ahem... anyway.

Socrates, Lao Tzu, Shakespeare, &c. have expressed and/or expanded upon the notion that a wise man is one who admits he knows nothing.

For me, and I'm sure countless others, I believe this is a fallacy. If you're just smart enough to know you're a jerk, in no way does that make you not a jerk.

It just makes you more insecure than the stupid jerk next to you.

Oof. I need to stop drinking coffee. Gotta wake up at the crack tomorrow to try and find personal growth at the REI used gear sale, or else some other asshole is going to buy it first.

Most Awesomest Professor in the World

Mar 26

Posted by jeff in Everything | 1 Comment

I saw this gentleman's name plate while I was touring the SCU law campus back when I was busy rejecting law schools in order to pursue my burgeoning interest in doing nothing, and ever since I've been wondering if it was some kind of joke.

I'm amazed and gratified to be able to report that it wasn't.

Professor of Law and Director, Institute for International and Comparative Law, Santa Clara University School of Law. JD, LLM, AB.

Fuckers

Mar 24

Posted by jeff in Everything | 4 Comments

While I harbor no real anger or resentment towards my amorous neighbours, they do grow tiresome. As I said before, I can't fault them for enjoying themselves -- and each other -- but they do insist on leaving the window open whilst vociferously fucking.

My downstairs neighbour, not often persuaded to stir from a tetrahydrocannabinol-induced stupor, was even moved one night to take them to task for this. Sadly, they persist with their tragic preference for open-air performances.

Quite apart from my neighbours' sensitivities, I am increasingly distressed that my evening's entertainment -- whether re-reading Patrick O'Brian's historical novels (hence the tone of these first few paragraphs, a feeble attempt at S. Maturin's voice), catching up on TV with Hulu, or happily stuffing my face with pizza among friends -- is so often accompanied by this grunting, unappealing soundtrack.

While they seem to have dispensed with each other's genitals for the evening, I have decided to make my opinion known at their next concert. I have yet to fix upon the specific form of rebuke, but it will at all events be delivered through these:

What you see there is the window closest to and facing the offending couple, along with a pair of satellite speakers from a Klipsch ProMedia v.2-400 PC speaker system, and part of a chair.

Let me be clear: the chair is not important.

This sound system delivers 400 Watts (RMS) of crisp, pure audio. I readily admit that number means nothing to me, nor anyone else without an engineering degree, but perhaps some anecdotal evidence will help:

When I first purchased said speakers several years ago, I tested them by turning the volume up to 50% and playing a song.

After wiping the blood from my eyes, nose, and ears, and calling a glazier to have my windows replaced, I turned the dial down a bit.

I believe the normal approach when dealing with simpletons is to repeat instructions loudly and clearly until the point sinks in, so I might try that.

Odd. I feel like I've had this problem before.