Earlier today I had mapped out how I would write my last blog entry. I'd explain why I was wrapping it up, interleaving the entry with comments about reading Gullible's Travels - The Adventures of a Bad Taste Tourist, in which Cash Peters admirably admits, "If it's tacky, lowbrow, kitschy, crappy, a third-rate rip-off of something better, or just ( Read more... )

Signs that the new job is going well ( Read more... )

The friend with whom I was going to have lunch today was sick, so I ended up just grabbing some pad thai from the food court. I had a styrofoam takeout container full of food, and after wolfing it down I was still ravenous. I realized belatedly that the pad thai seemed kind of sweet, and a bit of online researched confirmed that pad thai almost ( Read more... )

Cute titles aside, the only line from the Barenaked Ladies song that's appropriate for my first full week of work is, "I like the sushi ’cause it’s never touched a frying pan." Being on the edge of the International District has been nice, and I'm going to have to start bringing my lunch more often if I don't want to regain the weight I've lost ( Read more... )

Now that I'm riding the bus to work, I've had a lot more time for reading, and Billy Collins' The Trouble With Poetry is the first book I've finished ( Read more... )

I don't consider myself all that social a person. Every once in a while I'll lapse into extroversion, but it's become fairly easy for me to withdraw for extended periods of time ( Read more... )

With the help of my time off between jobs, I'm nearly done playing Psychonauts. I've been ignoring my email most of that time and Psychonauts is directly responsible for my recent lack of blogging, but I think I've avoided being completely addicted. My wife seems pleased that she hasn't become a total video game widow ( Read more... )

My biggest indulgence during my time off was playing Psychonauts, a goofy computer game in which you are a cadet at a summer camp for psychics. (Your first merit badge? Pyrokinesis.) During the game you have to enter people's minds, to sort their emotional baggage (represented by luggage that weeps piteously) and clear out their mental cobwebs ( Read more... )

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I seem to be celebrating my week off with an absurdist kick. At my friend Jared's suggestion, I bought The Legendary Marvin Pontiac, a CD by a fictitious blues singer. One of the songs is about a bunch of small farmers who take a trip in the car they made from a tin can. In another song Marvin sings the praises of a beautiful woman, but laments ( Read more... )