7.13.2005

Five Over current rotation: B.G. - The Heart Of Tha Streetz I like to speed as much as the next person. Not really speed, but you know what I mean, I'm talking about doing 5 over. I don't think there's really anything wrong with it, but I guess if it's to be disputed in a court of the law n shit, then yes it's still speeding. But the chances of somebody bringing you in for something like that is so remote that you might as well go for it. Besides, there's plenty of drivers out there that won't even give a second thought to going 10 over. I've been doing the 5 over thing for as long as I've been driving. It comes so naturally that I found that I have to make a conscious effort to stop. One time, I was having somebody follow my car somewhere and I knew that this person was one of those straight arrow drivers that follows the speed limit to the dot. Not that there's anything wrong with that... I just didn't want to lose the guy so I figured that I would need to drive according to the speed limit as well. The problem was that I was so accustomed to adding 5 to any speed limit sign that I could not remember whether the speed that I had in mind was the number from the sign or the result of the 5-over sum. I am fairly certain that there were a couple stretches of road where I was going 5 under. This must've blown that dude's mind, trying to follow my car. For driving on highways for long distances, that extra velocity is necessary to keep oneself sane. I'm serious! I absolutely hate driving long distances. And by long distances, I mean anything that takes over an hour. So for a drive that would normally take 3 hours—if there is anything that will bring that down to 2 hours and 50 minutes, I'm gonna do it. Going slightly faster than everyone else on the highways also gives you something to do... you gotta constantly plan your next move to pass the "slow" car in front. It's like a game n shit; if only you could see me in my car cursing, laughing, yelling... you know all the familiar symptoms of a game in progress. Plus, it seems to me that the speed limits are a lot more lenient on the highways and sometimes you gotta get in the slow lane even if you're going 10 over. But I tell you who doesn't get the luxury of speeding: cops. It's not because they got to go by the speed limits out of principal or anything, like you know what I mean, like they gotta "set a good example" n shit. No, it's not even that. Sure, the setting a good example thing applies, but they can't speed because they often can't, even if they wanted to. Everywhere they go, people around them slow down for fear of being nailed with a speeding ticket. And nobody wants to be the guy who passes a cop car. I've been caught in this sort of situation before... it was during my first trip out to Chicago and I must've cautiously trailed this state trooper with a couple of other cars for a good half an hour. So when you're trapped behind a bunch of slow moving vehicles in all lanes, it's very difficult for you to pick up the pace. I see those poor police officers or state troopers surrounded by convoys of slow moving vehicles all the time. Almost makes me feel sorry for them. But then I think of how they busted me for inadvertently speeding in Peabody, KS and my sympathy fades.

// 11:30 PM | link //

7.12.2005

What I Like About Starbucks current rotation: Death Cab - A Movie Script Ending (acoustic) I don't drink a whole lot of coffee so I don't know if I am out of line in making such a bold statement... but I would have to say that Starbucks has the "awesome lid" industry on lock. I mean, how cool is that thing?!? It's shaped to conform to the shape of part of your face, for fuck's sake! I like them so much, I'd have to wonder how people even drank anything out any cup without those lids. I've tried some lids in my day and I tell you what, they don't compare. But the question is this: is it only Starbucks that does that type of lid? Or do all coffee joints use those? Because I think I got wind that they're using them at some donut shops, but I'm not sure how reliable those sources were...

// 1:23 AM | link //

7.08.2005

Printing current rotation: Rilo Kiley - More Adventurous OK so get this: I went to the library to print off some PDFs last night. I got there and I went to retrieve my files from an e-mail that I sent myself... but it wouldn't let me open my files! I could most certainly download the file, but I couldn't open it. I was under the impression that opening PDF files was a pretty common thing to be doing. I mean, I've heard of the viruses that travel via PDF files but they require the full version of Adobe Acrobat to spread. But the bottom line is that they wouldn't let me open my files and they pointed me in the direction of a different library network or Kinko's. But first, let me explain why I was going to the library to print things off. Yes, I happen to own a printer. As a matter of fact, it's a printer/scanner but I only really use the scanner part because I figured that I print so few pages that it wouldn't be worth it to get ink. Because you know that inkjet ink? That stuff dries up. I know this because I've seen it happen. And that ink don't come cheap. So that's why I always used to go on campus to print stuff off (they gave us so many free pages anyways). I suppose I could print stuff off at work now, but I figure I'd better keep it professional there. And plus, I needed those files printed off ASAP last night. The Kinko's was just down the street so I thought I would check them out. Plus, I didn't like the thought of signing up for a different library card. Being a copy/printing company, Kinko's was able to print off my documents in a hurry, full service style. I handed my USB flash drive to the guy working the counter and we go to a computer and I tell the guy what files to print and he did it. And the paper was some hardcore, nice and heavy paper too. And if that wasn't enough, it cost me less to print at Kinko's. It was 17 cents at Kinko's, a phenomenal 3 cents less than what I would have paid at the library to do it myself, on inferior paper. The guy at Kinko's who printed my documents off, well he hit the keys on the keyboard and clicked the mouse buttons harder than I have ever seen anybody hit keys or click buttons. He was jabbing them in quick, loud flicks of his finger and it was amazing that some of the keys didn't pop right out. But, I suppose it's their computer equipment, so whatever. But considering that pretty much everything is better at Kinko's, I'll be taking my printing there from now on. Now I ain't doggin on the public library or nothing... hell, I'll still go to the library if I want to get some books n shit, because last I heard, they've still got Kinko's beat in that department by just a little bit.

// 7:05 PM | link //

Street Talk current rotation: Frou Frou - Details Let's talk potholes. The biggest, scariest pothole that I have ever seen is in Wichita. It's the one that is in the parking lot coming into the west side Best Buy. The last time I was back there, I saw that they had it patched up but I've seen them try to patch this thing up before. Next time I'm down there, I'm pretty sure that I'll see it again, even bigger than before, with a small lake forming in the bottom. This is the cycle that I've seen this particular pothole go through over the years. Somebody realizes that it's a hazard, decides to patch it up, the patch is withered away because of slight imperfections, and bam its bigger than ever. You can't fight this thing... it's a living organism, a monster. It won't be silenced! It's surprising that the worst pothole that I have ever seen is in Wichita, considering the fact that Kansas generally has better roads than surrounding states... at least that is what I have come to believe. Oklahoma roads: crap. Texas roads: crap. Missouri roads: crap crap crap. Of course, people in Kansas also pay the price for having these good roads—there's construction on Kansas roads 24/7 and nobody likes going through construction. Traffic's half the speed, the fines are double, and you get to drive single file down a 2 lane highway, jimmy-rigged from what used to be a 4 lane luxury cruise. Nothing to like about it. And if you're lucky, you might even run into those portions of construction where opposing traffic shares the same lane, by taking turns—those are always a treat.

// 12:30 AM | link //

7.06.2005

The Show current rotation: 50 Cent - The Massacre Perhaps the biggest shame is how they traded in that awesome stageshow "W" that some might consider synonymous with the band itself... for a big electronic, multicolor glowing thing that appears in the background of Make Believe. Nice going, Weezer. But seriously. I was excited about going to this concert all day. It was an OK show... Cake was a lot of fun and Weezer played about half and half in terms of Make Believe and pre-Make Believe. Hell, even the songs from Make Believe sounded decent live. Hearing these songs performed live, you kind of get a better sense of what Rivers might have intended them to be. But I'm still upset about the W. I ain't even joking about that shit. Also, I spent an hour and a half just getting out of the parking lot. That was a fucking riot. I must've used a quarter tank of gas just inching my way out of that goddamn grass lot. It's not like I could've just waited it out... cuz cars were moving, just ever so slowly. They had to send in the police to regulate that shit. I almost remember the drive out better than the show itself. Anyways, I guess I should explain how I found myself at this show so suddenly. I mean, I usually announce these sorts of things months in advance as being "on the horizon" but this one really jumped out of nowhere. You see, I had heard of this concert a long time ago but had been debating whether or not to go simply because I had listened to Weezer's new album and was unsure whether supporting their release of such garbage was my best move. Plus, I had to work on the day of the show. But I do like Cake. And The Elevator Division would be there. I was pretty torn about the whole matter. The first resolution came when I realized that I really didn't know anybody interested in going to this show. I decided that if nobody else was going, then I wasn't going to go. There are some exceptions, but in general, I probably wouldn't go to a concert by myself. It kind of falls in the category of going to a movie by yourself or eating at a sit-down restaurant by yourself... you just don't do it. Case in point, if The Cardigans come around these parts again, y'all can go fuck yourselves, cuz I'm going to that show regardless of my company. The reversal came when I started talking to Mandy about the show and she was telling me that she might go and that she knew some people interested in going. Well that just about sealed the deal—I was going to the show. Nevermind that this all went down less than a week from the day of the show. Nevermind that nobody had tickets yet. Having suffered a recent series of missed concerts due to lack of planning, I wasn't about to give up on this one so easily. It was Monday, the day before the show. Due to unexpected ticket prices, I suddenly found it upon myself to get ahold of some tickets. I drove down to the local Price Chopper. They didn't do Ticketmaster. I asked them where I could do Ticketmaster. They didn't know, they just knew they didn't do it. I drove down to the Hyvee in Gladstone. They did Royals tickets, but no Ticketmaster. I asked them where I could do Ticketmaster. The guy behind the counter didn't know, pulled out a phone book to see what he could find under "Ticketmaster" in the business pages. The whole time, I'm standing there thinking "my god, what an idiot..." Another guy behind the Hyvee counter comes up, says they do Ticketmaster at The Jones Store at North Metro. I went to The Jones Store in North Metro. As I walk towards the entrance, somebody yells at me from their car: "They close in 5 minutes!" I ran inside, found the Customer Service counter (upstairs) and asked if they did Ticketmaster. "Yes, we do, but we stop selling at 6." It was 6:58. The lady behind the counter informed me that everybody stops selling tickets at 6. There wasn't another place for me to drive to, even if I wanted to. I didn't want to, but I would have done it. I must have been driving around town for like an hour. At least. Oh yeah, and while I was at Price Chopper, I bought some peaches and a big pack of chicken drumsticks. So I was driving around, trying to keep my chicken cool so it wouldn't go bad. I honestly didn't think I would be so long. I know when I have faced my defeat. I called up Mandy and told her that I couldn't get tickets. She went and picked up tickets at her local Hyvee less than an hour later. They got the Ticketmaster hookup in Lawrence, I guess. On the horizon: Coldplay / Rilo Kiley, 09/21/05, KCMO

// 12:22 AM | link //

7.01.2005

Chica current rotation: Imogen Heap - Goodnight and Go I happened to start work during a week when the Pro Shop was having a big sale. I don't remember how often someone said that they have these kinds of sales but I do remember that it seemed like there was quite a bit of time between sales. Something like 6 months or a year, something unbearably long. Unfortunately, I was in classes off campus all that first week so I would not be able to personally take advantage of this sale. And, considering the dress code policy, it thought it would be in my best interest to buy some clothes from the shop. So what I did was pretty genius. I went and looked up what items were on sale and wrote down what I wanted on a piece of paper, with colors, sizes, and maximum price that I would pay for each item. You see, there was a listing of the items on sale on the intranet page but no prices. I had to kind of guess at these prices and put down what I thought would be reasonable for a sale. I gave the paper to Sam and had him go scope it out and only buy the things that were at or under the prices that I listed. Well, it turns out that I had guessed the prices exactly as I had listed. I ended up getting 3 polos. One of them was of a microstripe pattern. I looked over the labels to make sure I had gotten the correct sizes. I wear a Small when it comes to polos. I don't know why that is, because I wear Medium t-shirts. It's just the way it is, I guess. Anyways, when I went to look at the microstripe's label, I saw the word "chica" written on it. My immediate response to seeing this was the translation to the word "girl" and I was like "huh?" because I would be quite upset if I had just bought a girl's polo. I tried to gather more details from examining the shirt a little closer, but I could not get too much more information because the shirt was folded up and sealed in a plastic bag and opening the bag would only decrease my chances of returning it. There is so many things wrong with my having this girl's polo, aside from the principal of the matter. Girl's polos are shaped differently... they got those shorter sleeves and... yeah I was not about to put myself into a situation where I could have an encounter on campus involving running into a girl with the same polo on. So I had Sam take it back the next day to see if there was any way he could get it returned or exchanged for an item of equal value. He comes back to the apartment after work that day and pulls the same blue microstripe shirt out of his bag and tosses it to me. I asked him what happened and he informs me that the people at the Pro Shop laughed when he told him about the "Chica" on the label. It turns out that "Chica" can also mean "Small." Somehow, this little bit of Spanish had escaped me in the 2 years of high school Spanish and 2 semesters of college Spanish. Or maybe I knew it, but I had just forgetten. I don't know. Either way, I felt like quite the fool.

// 5:19 PM | link //

6.30.2005

ISnuckInTheClub current rotation: Death Cab For Cutie - I Was A Kaleidoscope Last Tuesday, a big group of kids from my Compass group met up at this bar in Westport called Harpo's to hang out. They have a special on Tuesdays where you can get 25 cent draws... of Natty Light, quite possibly one of the most terrible beers of all time. On the cheap end of the beer spectrum, you've got beers like Keystone, Old Style, and of course Natty. Now, I won't dog on Natty too much... me and Natty have a sort of a history, but I won't get into that. The point is, they were selling cheap beer for a price so low that it was still a good deal. Good deals taken in mass quantity equals great times. That's a little introduction to the discipline known as Beer Mathematics. One of the most interesting points in the night was right when we arrived at the bar and of course, I routinely pulled out my driver's license to show them that yes, I was indeed 21+ years old. Now, if you've ever seen my driver's license, you will know that I really don't look like I did back when the photo was taken. In that photo, I was wearing glasses and I had just shaved my head. And it was like 3 years ago. Just from past experience, I know that people will often feel the need to give me the "double take" where they look back and forth between my ID and me at least twice, and then hesitantly return it back to me, not really sure if I was who I claimed to be. It's happened at bars with my license; it's happened at airports with my passport (for which was I was coincidentally photographed for around the same time as my driver's license). I don't blame these people, I can see where they're coming from... But I had something happen to me that night that took the whole thing to the next level. I hand the guy at the door my license and he did not believe that was me in that picture. So he pulled me aside, and let everyone else that was with get their ID's checked, cover paid, and wristband distributed. The guy hands my license to this big bald guy standing a couple feet back in the corner. He says something to the bald guy, who proceeds to analyze my license under some kind of magnifying glass/flashlight combination tool. The big bald guy didn't think I was the guy in the picture either. At this point, I was just afraid that they would confiscate my driver's license or cut it up or whatever they do to the licenses of kids who try to sneak into bars under the guise of a friend or relative. "No that's me, I've got other forms of ID on me..." "Doesn't matter." He clamps my license on a clipboard and hands me a notepad and pen and instructs me to sign my name "exactly as it appears" on my driver's license. The page that I was going to be signing on had two other signatures on it. It seemed like a pretty common procedure around Harpo's. I was like "OK." I was confident that I knew how to sign my own name, but I've noticed that signatures evolve over time. Mine has, anyways. I don't know about yours. So I signed it like I do and the bald guy compares it to the signature on my driver's license using the forementioned magnifying glass and after giving my signature the double take, he finally says, "well, I guess it looks similar enough." I was like "OK, thanks... I guess," all sarcastic as I return my license to my wallet. They were treating me as if they had just let some 18 year old slip through the cracks of their security, trying to get by with a borrowed/stolen ID. I rolled my eye and got my wristband, a little irked that I had to jump through all these obstacles to drink some Natty, when I never once had to prove myself at bars, never once had to prove myself to the people working at various airports in numerous countries. Just who the fuck do these people at Harpo's think they are? So anyways, there were a bunch of us out back, occupying like 3 tables pushed together. It wasn't just my Compass group there obviously because Sam and Chris also came. Micheala brought her friend from that other night. Amanda's friend Natalie showed up at some point. Summer brought some of her friends and I am pretty sure there were people there that night that I didn't even get a chance to meet. Great times. That was the same night that Sam and I ran into Jenny back at the apartment and the L Word was dropped. But that's another story.

// 10:14 PM | link //