29 July 2005

variably cloudy, 70% chance of rain, dull

I just put in my resignation letter at work. I just deleted my Favorites list from my computer. I just checked my email again. It's rather sad.

Soon there will be no more office parties--although yesterday's farewell fried turkey, corn on the cob and homemade strawberry ice cream was outstanding. No more commuting to work and feeling like a grown-up. No more blogging at work. No more Jimmy John's subs for lunch. No more time sheets where I have trouble adding to 40 in my head. No more broken air-conditioners (i.e. 3 out of 5 days this week). No more power surges during afternoon thunderstorms that cause you to lose your data.

No more restricted paper towel dispensers.

27 July 2005

car shot #951

Just an addition to the photo album I'm going to make coming to a coffee table near you.

no. 7

This morning I was pulling out the driveway when I noticed something hanging from our recycling bin on the road. The bin has been sitting there for over a week. And it's topped off to its capacity with various glass, plastic and aluminum. Yesterday I even commented on how long it had been sitting there waiting to be emptied.

Back to me driving away this morning. I jumped out of my car to retrieve the note that was attached to a gallon-sized Tropicana orange juice jug. The "public notice note" had a long list of why the notice was relevant with boxes beside them. Apparently, whoever left the note, failed to check the box to tell us how stupid we are.

After a few minutes and a vicious fire ant that bit my foot, I decided that my gallon-sized Tropicana jug was the culprit. On the bottom of the jug was the number 7 inside the recycle symbol. They won't take ANY of our recyclables if there is a plastic number 7 in the bin. Who knew? It's like all the other plastic is contaminated now.

Speaking of numbers, I have a challenge. If you're sitting down, pick your right foot up and turn your foot in clockwise circles. While doing this, take your right hand and draw the number 6 in the air.

Loser! ha.

24 July 2005


An old shot that I found. This sums up my sophomore year of college. Taken during my first geology club spring break trip to the Grand Canyon in 2002. I am at the top, ready to drop another boulder on my friends who are playing possum--apparently.

i like grapes!

I want to be in a Starbucks Doubleshot Espresso Drink commercial. It would be incredible to have a song made for me.

"Hank! Hank!"

Speaking of commercials, I blogged a few months ago about the Charmin bears needing toilet paper. Well, they are back! With their kids. Ready for more toilet paper. But WHY??

I think I'm back to blogging again after a small hiatus. I have one week left at a federal job with an income where I'm capable of paying my bills. And then, I'll be done with another job that looks nice on my resume, moving to another state capital and jumping onto the grad school bandwagon for two years so I can earn a job observing the weather.

That better be one good bandwagon.

20 July 2005

lightning crashes

I witnessed the coolest thunderstorm tonight in Columbia.

3 inches in 2 hours. Persistent lightning.

An aspiring climatologist's dream come true.

13 July 2005


Thanks to Laura for bringing back memories of 5 years ago with her graduation speech.

An excerpt of the end, if you will:

"i hope that all of us, if we haven't already, will find our bliss. whether it be running a 5k in the rain, writing our every thought in a beat up spiral notebook, tending to roses, chasing tornadoes, watching black and white movies, constructing impossible bulletin boards, or contemplating the blissful existence of cows... whatever your bliss may be, i encourage all of you to cling to it as hard as you can, because it will ultimately save you in your journey ahead."

Cows! Tornadoes! And I've run a 5k in the rain!

11 July 2005

fireants, granola, coffee ..oh my.

I have to whine. Or complain. Actually, vent is more like it.

I woke up with the intentions of going on a morning run before work but I failed to wake up with my alarm as it incorporated itself into my dream--again. By the time I actually did wake up, I felt guilty for eating breakfast and further making myself late to work, so I skipped it all together and decided a glass of no-pulp orange juice would suffice. Who am I kidding?

Finally journeying out to my car in the miserable morning humidity and dew, I opened my car door to spot hordes of fireants all over the inside of the front seats and floor. They were in an army line and carrying small chunks of food down to the ground. In an attempt to find their way in, I spotted a blade of grass that was at the same height as the bottom of my door. It was their land bridge to the giant mecca of granola crumbs. I used to not be so dirty with my car, but lately, I've not really cared. As a result, I had abandoned 2 granola bar wrappers and a Twix wrapper which were completely void of any edible food residue whatsoever anymore.

With all four car doors open, I sprayed the lethal bug spray everywhere and massacred the hiding with a blue flyswatter everytime they peered from a crack. 15 minutes later I was swarmed by mosquitoes and had to deal with 15 or 20 bites from them. I'll take a mosquito bite over a fireant bite any day.

Then the mosquitoes got into my car and I had to drive away with the windows down.

Then my scolding hot coffee started spilling everywhere, so I had to gulp 1/2 of it down so I could drive erratically without spilling the remainder of it.

Then I nearly ran out of gas because I live in the middle of no where.

Then I got to work and my contact popped out.

01 July 2005


I really like infrastructures. On my commute home each day I take the I-277 spur out of the city to I-77. The spur becomes an obtuse angled-bridge over I-77 before it merges into the two lanes. Since the bridge is so broad and the curve is banked, there's no need to slow down. So, as I'm traveling 71 mph over the bridge, the left lane is lower than the right and you sort of get that feeling your on a roller coaster--only you're in control. You can peer over onto the north- and southbound lanes of traffic and view exactly what you'll be on in a mere 12.4 seconds.

This is where infrastructure takes a turn for the worse, literally. At the bottom of the hill comes the merge. The merge of a spur and an interstate. Both have 2 lanes. Both are equally congested. Both have cars and carpools of hungry individuals eager to make it home for Oreos or Fig Newtons or a glass of orange juice. Or an apple. Or a slice of cold pizza.

Regardless, everyone anticipates a simple merge. But no, you're shocked to find out that of the two infrastructures merging, the four lanes become three and the two center lanes are the ones merging into one. Imagine being in lane two or three and realizing that it's a competition of Chicken to see who gets the first place spot because lane 4 has a semi in it and lane one has a BMW who's driving erratically. Ok, so this hasn't actually happened because I've realized that you just need to be an outside lane to survive the daunting task of merging, but I'm just warning you.