You know, I just responded to an email from Tracy asking my
professional
opinion of the EnterAct monthly update, and I'm becoming
aware how out-of-practice I'm getting with this whole writing thing. Argh!
I've been writing more Perl than English lately. Ah well, at least I'm
writing something. So I blazed through old email this evening, and am
rewriting a rambling, tedious entry I started yesterday for good measure. Now
ya got context? :)
After all, I don't wanna be flabby and useless when the boss asks me for stuff I've got special Ninja Training on do I?
So last weekend, I was feeling the need for a little vacation, and had an odyssey in my new car down to the Utopia of school called Champaign-Urbana. Fourth gear is a really nice place to be, it turns out, as long as I keep to a moderate speed. I found that the closer I got to 80, the faster I lost oil ... to the tune of over a quart in fifteen minutes!
Okay, so keeping to 60, virtually no leakage. At 65 ... well, not enough
to stop me every fifteen minutes, but still enough to make me feel like a
Republican in the environment. I got down really late Friday night, missing
the Allen Hall Street Dance
which my Ground South geek friends like so
much. I got to hug enough folks who had stuck around for cleanup though, and
slept on Tim's couch.
Tim and Jenny are dating now. I mean, I could foresee it, but Tim having a girlfriend, even one as mild-mannered as Jenny ... well, it still impresses me. Not that I think it's impossible, mind you, it's just not one of those things that strikes me as something the Universe concerns itself with making happen with any great priority.
So, I decided to stick around C-U 'til Monday, when I could maybe get Toby,
my favorite mechanic, to take a look at the car, which could use a tune-up,
tighter steering, front shocks, and something to be done about the leaking
oil. Well, Monday said Toby, I don't service the Volkswagen Beetle.
AUGH!
Well then Saturday night I went out to dinner with Apartment Friends,
including Rachel, Sean and 'toly, to name a few. I think it was Sean, who
upon meeting me in the car remarked You've out-done yourself this time.
I was pleased, but then embarrassed at a poor idle and my own poor performance
driving stick around town. Neither me nor the bug were too happy that
evening.
I then took off early from our dinner to jet over to Foellinger and meet Morris, who had an extra ticket to the They Might be Giants concert. Geez, everyone stood up the whole time, but I kicked back, relaxed, closed my eyes, and tried to enjoy the music. At first me and Morris were seated in the armpit section - on the floor, but behind the amplifiers. I was getting a cricked neck trying to see the warm-up band. We snuck up to the sparsely-populated balcony and had a better view near Johnny and Tanino, my roommates from last year.
Then Morris disappeared during the Conga line.
So I ran into Ben and folks, and headed off to the only frat party I've ever been to at UIUC. We were reminded how much we disliked frat parties after staying there a few brief minutes, and headed off to another party, stopping at Jimmy John's along the way. It was already past midnite at that point though, and I wanted to catch paintball the next morning, so I skipped the party, slept on Dave Hayashida's floor, and slept through paintball the next morning.
Sunday I spent getting some work done, and taking Li out to see Rush
Hour
at the Beverly - just as funny the second-time around and
highly-recommended.
Monday I dropped by the English advising office after spending another night on Dave's floor and being brushed off by Toby. It seems more of a possibility for me to make it back to campus for a last hurrah next semester to finish my degree. If things are working at work the right way, it could be the most appropriate thing in the world.
You know though, even though I liked visiting, I was reminded again how glad I am not to have to deal with school? Ehhh, a few more months and maybe I can tough it out one last semester.
So Monday I did drive back to the land of the home and the free of the brave, my sweet home, Chicago ... took Li with me, who seemed to enjoy well enough a ride in an old buggy whose color she very much approves of. Dropped her off in Chinatown, as some passing lady explained to her son or nephew that the engine was in the back and the trunk was in the front - I had both open as I checked my oil. She then explained to me what she had explained to him, because she'd been pointing at my car and chatting about in a language that I just can't relate to.
I then took off again back south to Grandma's house, getting good practice starting and stopping in Dan Ryan rush hour traffic. I arrived to meet Aunt Linda visiting from what I guess was her first day at massage therapist school, and got Grandma's computer happily chatting on the 'net again. You see, she moved back home this weekend, and mom's first attempt at getting her back online was easily thwarted by being given a number that didn't work right for Grandma. And of course Grandma's addicted to email now and can't go without her fix.
Grandma fed us, and then I drove Linda back home, from the far south side to her northwest Des Plaines suburb, lest she need to ride two different Metra trains late in the evening. More good practice, and an amicable companion.
Well, that was last weekend - meaning two weekends ago. This last
weekend just passed I went out to dinner with Sean and we caught Ronin
which I didn't particularly want to see, but that was actually pretty cool
right up until the very moment Hollywood woke up and reclaimed the movie's
soul during a car chase scene that lasted way too long. After that, the movie
didn't quite make sense to me, and was acting pretty silly, imho. Well, Sean
liked it, and I think the MST3k version should be quite stellar.
Practiced driving in dark rainy weather. More parallel parking, where a
neighboring car was, in Sean's words, kissed by a Beetle
. I'm getting
used to the ordeal, and growing to love driving my car, even though I'm still
no stallion with the stickshift.
Saturday I slept a lot, washed the car with my hands, a sponge, a bucket of water, and some special secret sauce I picked up at Pep Boys, and after another evening nap Mark called and I drove down by his girlfriend's place and we headed down to the south side for my first Rave.
Had a minor accident with a parked car as I too eagerly smashed the brakes
down for a stop sign I noticed only late. Swerved out of control, making
scary noises and a soft crunch. The other guy had a little paint on a part of
his car which was in the process of body work anyway, and I've got a minor
dent. Well, it didn't seem like the sort of damage that anyone would care
enough about to worry over compensation even if they did notice, so we
continued on our way. I now pump the brakes for a sudden stop, and use
calm and controlled
as my good-karma mantra for drivin' the Beetle -
it's calm and controlled that one needs as a motto to get off the clutch and
into first gear anyway, neh?
Now picture a bunch of baggy-pants wearin' house-music listenin' hoodlum-lookin' kids going into a smoky room to dance all night long, and possibly do some recreational drugs. That's a Rave, as far as I can tell, and apart from the poor ventilation at this one, which let the smoke irritate the heck outta my eyes, the dancing is pretty fun, even if I'm not an all-night kinda guy.
The drug use didn't seem too heavy to me ... they were there but they weren't particularly in my way. I smelled pot only once, and encountered far more pixie sticks and gratuitous candy-sharing more than anything. The peeps are pretty friendly, and the ones who rode in my car were polite enough to ask if smoking was verboten. I met Mark's friends, members of the Brilliantly Mad crew, and got along quite handsomely with a nice gal named Misty.
The Rave finished a bit early by everyone elses' standards around 0400h. I was longing for my sleep schedule, but chauffeured three new acquaintances, including Misty, down to the Belmont Harbor, where the Ravers like to go afterwards to party 'til dawn. After a short and reflective wander onto the cold pre-dawn lakefront, I arrived back at my car to find two of my passengers had managed to snuggle into sleep in my backseat. Well, I'm not about to kick anyone out, and didn't have to be anywhere, so I snuggled up and napped in my trunk, which I imagine was quite a neat picture.
My front-seat companion, Jason, had pontificated about the Rave philosophy and seemed postulate that it was some modern incarnation of the beat generation and 1960s hippies. He didn't quite sell me, but I was concerned with steering down Lake Shore Drive and appreciating the finer points of shifting a fully-laden car. Religion, as I see it, isn't something I care to argue at such a time, especially with a relative stranger.
Around sunrise, only Misty was left sprawled across my backseat. She offered me money for a ride home, saying she was dreaming of her own bed. 'twas on my way, so I took off and dropped her at her place for free - the offer was kind but unnecessary. I think it'll be nice to see her again. I dunno that I wanna get too much into the Ravin' thing though. I'm not an all-night kinda guy. A good party though picks up the spirits, and I like to let loose and dance.
Well, as I write this, it's past midnite. I got work tomorrow, and I don't feel like journalin' 'til dawn. Maybe I'll get to work on time tomorrow and take a moment to get this published out.
8 August
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