Archive for May, 2005

Sha right! As if! Insert more timely cultural sarcasm here!

Gus and I went to Garden City for the first time yesterday. It was a little crustier than Bay 101, but cards are cards. You can play them anywhere, all you need is a deck and some people.

Unfortunately, some of the people at this place weren’t very nice. I lost everything at my first table, playing rather conservatively amidst a cockfight of pre-flop raises. “I’ll raise.” My penis is very large. “Re-raise, make it nine.” My penis is larger than yours. “Cap it.” Everyone make room, I’m carrying my dick through here in a wheelbarrow. Almost everyone at the table would always call, regardless of their hand. People either busted out quick or made a lot of money. There was no steady progression. Having received almost no face cards the whole hour and one winning hand (regardless of whether I called it down; in that case, I had), I was in the bust-out group.

I went over to Gus’s table to tell him what happened. I had hardly finished before two choads on Gus’s left sneered something about my blowing more of his money at Pai Gow, insinuating something about my poker playing abilities. Not cool.

Gus wanted to keep playing, so he gave me another $100. I took a seat at his table and then I took some of those choads’ money. One of them ran out of money and left, which was awesome. But the other one kept re-buying. I’m pleased to report that he kept his mouth shut, and I was able to participate in a couple more hours of enjoyable play.

The days preceeding this outing were spent along the gorgeous Half Moon Bay. Our bed and breakfast was great, and our oceanesque activities were fun. Besides partaking in some delicious seafood (deep fried prawns, yum!), one of my favorite things to do was visit the tide pools where you can see crabs and other sea life doing their thangs. I hadn’t seen live crabs that big before, and they were surprisingly colorful. We also saw some seals hanging out, but they weren’t as close as the seals I saw in Santa Cruz.

That’s a baby seal next to his mother, for you anti-camera phone picture-snobs. :-)

Usually, I find it annoying when near-strangers or mere acquaintances bring up the weekend. “Big plans for the weekend?” (Nice small talk. Like you give a shit.) “I’m ready for the weekend!” (Of course you are because right now you’re working and it sucks, doesn’t it?)

I try not to bring it up because I actually don’t care what most people are doing for the weekend, except some people at work. My boss does some cool rock climbing stuff with his kids and there are some other people around here with lives as well. But overall, I don’t think I anticipate the weekend as much as most other people do, and I’m certainly not given to seeking momentary escapes in my daily activities by talking about the weekend. You get 52 of them every year! Who cares?!

Until today. I care now. Gus is coming in a few long hours and then we’re going to do a bunch of cool stuff. I was thinking we’d eat dinner at one of the restaurants at Santana Row tonight. I didn’t make reservations because it’s Thursday.

Tomorrow, I’m working a half-day, and then I was thinking we’d go swimming at my apartment complex’s pool in the courtyard, which is very pretty with flowers everywhere. I should really take pictures, it’s gorgeous. Anyway, we’re gonna play cards Friday night at Bay 101, which I haven’t done in FOREVER. If we’re feeling really adventurous, we might go to Artichoke Joe’s in San Bruno, which I heard was seedy, but fun. Isn’t that what playing cards is about? If we do that, then we should eat somewhere in North Beach (San Francisco) where all the good Italian restaurants are. Fongfong also recommended Cafe Mums for good Kobe beef.

On Saturday, we’re driving to Half Moon Bay to stay at Landis Shores, a beachfront bed and breakfast with a nice, outdated website. There’s hiking, shopping, and wine-tasting nearby, so I’m sure it will be lots of fun. We’re staying in the Russian River room, which has a jacuzzi and a full ocean view. Yay!

So I’m ready for the weekend enough for it to have slowed down my work progress considerably. I just want to get out of here and do something fun.

Even though I went to a Giants game and hung out in San Francisco on Tuesday night, I feel like I haven’t done anything in forever. Spoiled as hell I am. I lived in one really cool city for five years (Austin) and when I ran out of shit to do there, I moved to another really cool area with enough to keep me busy for a long time. So let’s get busy! I want to get out of here!

At $259 per share, is Google’s stock inflated? Jim Cramer doesn’t think so, but I’m a little skeptical. Some guy called in to Mad Money the other day and said he made $140K selling his Google stock. Sounds nice…

Google has their own sushi bar in the cafeteria and all the food there is free. They also have a free masseuse. And probably some good rumors floating around too. I walk through their parking lot on the way to work and there are never any cars in it.

They’re hiring tech writers. I’m not sure what they’re doing with tech writers there, but for daily free sushi, I’d be completely onboard with it.

I want to buy some stock. But not Google. Something like Google several months ago. Where’s my fortune teller?

It’s Friday night and I’m just chillin. I’m playing a poker tournament with about 700 people in it, I doubled up in the very first hand, and life is good. I think, Hey, I should listen to some tunage. I’m sick of my own tunage, so I’m gonna check out some internet radio.

Somehow, I ended up at Blastro and what I found there made sad to admit that I like electronic music. I should have known what I’d be getting when I chose “Let Me Be Your Fantasy” by Ashley Jade. Go on, check it out. If you’re not huddled in a corner and shaking when it’s over, come on back and let me know what you think.

This ridiculous song’s meaningless lyrics sit on top of a trance number that is showcased in Every Other Trance Song in the World. The “club” they’re dancing in reminds me of this gay club in San Antonio that I used to go to when I was 18. Ah, many a good time was had at The Bottom (Bonham Exchange). The key thing to remember here is that I was 18. In addition, there wasn’t a Christina Aguilera trance rip-off busting loosely choreographed and ill-timed dance moves in hoochie-wear from the Sale bin at Frederick’s of Hollywood.

No Ashley, I think I’m going to let someone else be my fantasy. Perhaps someone with a large knife who is willing to gouge out my eyes and cut off my ears so I will no longer be exposed to the musical perils of this rotten, cruel world.

As a sidenote, I’m still doing rather well in my tournament, but I’ve been getting some killer hands and no one will call me. Not even when I just bet the blind amount. Call me, dammit!

That’s it. The day is over. I just got to work and have barely done anything, but after reading, I honestly feel satisfied enough with today to just end it right here. The walk to work was quite enjoyable too–it’s sunny again! :-)

One of the contractors who was let go called my boss and asked him to mail her an HTML book that she left here. Needing an HTML book to do the stuff we’re doing is pretty sad in the first place, but I digress. My boss messages me, asking me to look in her cube for the said book. I open a drawer and find her book, along with a multi-page list of her fashion picks from the Victoria’s Secret online catalog. Beyond just printing the list, she has marked which outfits she’s going to buy, which ones she still needs to try on, etc. I placed the list inside the book with the heading of the page sticking out of the top and gave it to my boss.

So ex-comrade, in case you were wondering why you didn’t make the cut, we’ve got two items for you in the mail that should clear things up.

After a fun night out, I still got up and walked to work this morning. In the rain. (I had an umbrella.) Yeah, baby. A steely-eyed ninja could have been waiting for me when I got here and I totally would have kicked his ass!

Instead, I found only my coworkers, who promptly left to see the Star Wars matinee. I somewhat fondly remember partaking in this perk for salaried employees, although I much prefer making a large hourly wage and not working late to the periodic movie milkbones dished out by most tech companies.

In between editing, I have spent this morning reading about the mating rituals of banana slugs (the large number of them out today piqued my interest) and some guy’s harsh opinion of djs, which I pretty much agree with. Some djs are nice and play good music, but far more are egotistical creeps who just want to be idolized for doing nothing. To those chaps, I say, “Good day.” *lowers monocle*

In other news, I recently signed up to be an Urban Dictionary editor. In addition to reading a bunch of colorful new entries, I’ve also received confirmation of something I already knew: people named Kat are cool.

All day yesterday, I had my blogger page open and ready for story-telling, but for some reason, I held off. I suppose it was because yesterday wasn’t over yet, even though I figured most of the action had already happened.

I woke up at 4am to some asshat’s car alarm going off. Car alarms are the stupidest inventions ever. They do nothing to prevent theft at all. They just make a really loud noise so that everyone within a three-block radius can be annoyed for two minutes because some light vibration like a loud bass or a dump truck occurred near someone’s easily agitated car alarm system. Even if a thief were involved in the detonation of this alarm, I doubt anyone cared to do anything about it. No one does anything when they hear car alarms. What’s the point of having one?

On the topic of cars, I also wanted to mention how retarded insurance policies are. I took my car in for a paint job because over the course of my owning it, the car has incurred a number of dents and dings as a result of the complete morons who open their doors too wide. I wanted to try using my uninsured motorists insurance because it covers incidents like these. I called Progressive and spent more time than I would have liked explaining what happened and answering insignificant questions administered by a brainless phone monkey. At the end of all that, “someone will call me back”. That’s all the information I got. Simply being able to talk to the person who was going to call me back would have made a lot more sense.

I was pleasantly surprised to receive a prompt phone call from a claims adjustor who told me that I would have to file a claim for each dent individually. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding. I don’t think even one of the repairs meets the $250 deductible. Stupid. So, I’m paying for everything out of pocket, which isn’t great, but my car is not looking as hot as it should be, so it must be done.

I didn’t think I would be able to top the aforementioned annoyances so soon, but yet again, I was wrong.

Yesterday, I came home to find that my roommates’ Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Woogie, shat himself and got it all over his bed and the carpet nearby. I looked around and started laughing. As you can see from the picture in the link, this breed has especially long hair. The task before me was huge and disgusting. So, I spent half the evening holding the dog under the kitchen faucet and waiting for its monstrous dingleberries to wash down the drain. I spent the second half blasting it with a hair dryer and watching The Daily Show with the volume all the way up.

I told Fongfong what happened when she got home, so she’ll be leaving Woogie in the kitchen from now on. Some might feel sorry for him, since Zoey gets to wander freely. But all she does is find a sunny spot of the carpet and sleep for 10 hours; it’s not like she’s partying.

On top of all this, my wireless internet isn’t working and I still can’t get my TV tuner card installed. (Not that I can even use it without the internet.) Maybe today will have fewer “surprises”.

I just went for a run so I could remember what it was like to be exhausted and sweaty. I seriously need to meet more people here.