Adrift

There’s three of them, and the only connection they have to each other is the fact that I only figured out I was off of work when I got there.

 The first is, “I am such a die-hard Final Fantasy fan.”  No, seriously, as much as I complain about Tactics advance and X-2, I’m pretty sure I’m too loyal to ever break away from the series.  Case in point: After discovering I had hours to spend at my whim, and after beating a hasty retreat back out of the employee entrance, I visited the EBGames at the mall.  Y’know, to pass the time while waiting for the bus.

I am now the proud pre-orderer of a GameStop exclusive, limited-edition of Final Fantasy XII.  It has…stuff.  Everything.  It comes in a freaking steel case.  There was no way I was getting out unscathed after that.

Come to think of it, how could EBGames be offering a GameStop exclusive?  Huh…

Number Two!  “Construction is cool.”  Have you ever seen a backhoe pulling up the concrete ring of a street median?  I have.  And I can confidently say that it was awesome.  It takes some real skill to work one of those things, and it was really fun to watch.  Also, any vehicle whose driver can swivel to face the back end, and thus access a whole different panel of controls, is just…awesome.

Thought the Third: “Why do people wear white shoes?” After relating this to Bahiyyih, it was decided that someone who was not quite in their right mind (or something to that effect) would not be altogether surprising.  But excluding issues of sanity, why?  The sole purpose of the shoe is to protect the foot.  Thus, by extension, shoes are made specifically for getting dirty.  I fail to see how wearing white, the most contaminable color in existance, is a good idea in this instance.

…And yes, that pun was intended…

Edit: I now also have a thirst for the PSP and its gaggle of RPG’s.  They just look…so…gooooood…

I am starting to wonder if there will ever be an aspect of the internet that is free of some form of spam.  And I’m not talking about the debatably edible food product.  Or the broadway show.

It started out with the e-mails.  Okay, so it’s like junk mail.  I can handle that.  Then there were the spam instant messengers.  Not so cool, but at least I have a “report as spam” button.  And they’re not too common.

But tonight I have been introduced to the final blow: spam blog comments.  Pardon my language, but what the hell???  What kind of person do you have to be to make a program that will make bogus posts on someone’s personal piece of the net, just to solicit a link?  Sure, I have to moderate each comment, and I made sure they were all marked for the dirt they were, but twenty-one?  All at once?  And only just now?

And even though they’re obviously not from people I know (or people at all, for that matter), there’s still a little voice in the back of my head that nags me about…I’m not even sure what.  Just deleting comments feels so…ngyahh.  Reminds me of why I’m so very glad I’m not a judge.

Although, I suppose on the bright side, it gave me something to write about.  Otherwise, all I had was that a tornado warning was issued at work, and all of us, customers and associates alike, had to be locked inside for about fifteen minutes.  It ended up being a collective break for us all.

Yeap, the old Ascot luggage of yore has been dealt a crippling blow: one of the wheels is completely broken off.  It can now half roll, half scrape along, leaving a nice trail of black in its wake.

Obviously, this cannot continue.

So, being the loyalist that I am, I thought I’d try to find myself another piece from the same company.  In doing so, however, I have been reminded of an important fact about manufacturers.  Which is that they don’t want to sell you anything!!  Not through their own, non-existent website, anyway.  Seriously, there is only a far distant outside chance of finding a manufacturer’s website.  Google isn’t going to find it, that’s for sure.  It will find a plethora of bogus links that all lead to the same freaking search engine page, but not much more than that.

And even when you do find the dang thing, they won’t take your money without registering first.  I know this because a few months ago I was looking for a cap with the 1-up mushroom on it.  I only found the Biodomes website through a link on some random person’s online resume who had worked on programming the site.  Talk about obscure.

My only hope of resolving the mystery lies in the response to an email I sent to a luggage company that seems to be closely tied to ascot.  Otherwise, I’ll just have to find something else.  Samsonite Side Rollers look really good, but black will make the contents hot and I don’t want red.  Skyway looks nice too…fancy zippers, inline skate wheels…decisions, decisions…

Whatever the final choice, I have few hopes of finding a green bag.  Alas.

Woo, got my third class!  Hopefully learning about the public health system will be both useful and enjoyable.  At the very least, my lecture for that one is Mondays and Wednesdays from 4 – 4:50.  PM.  And the Friday discussion is 10 – 10:50 AM, making it my earliest class.

Methinks this is a good schedule so far…

At least, that’s been the case for me.  As much as I love the color, I just can’t seem to ingest anything with such a hue.  Sure, broccoli is alright, and I’ll eat lettuce, but the chances of me fixing that stuff for myself is…pretty slim.  Close to nonexistant, really.

However!  I have recently discovered a solution to this nutritional shortfall: baby spinach.  I really like this stuff.  Oh so crispy, but still soft and gentle, both in texture and decibel level.  I’ve been eating it with bean stuff and, just tonight, mashed potatoes.  And it is darn good.

Now, admittedly, I’m not sure what it tastes like exactly, seeing as how its flavor has been masked by the things I’ve eaten it with, but I am optimistic that if I ever did eat it alone, it would be delicious.  Or, at the very least, it would taste better than adult spinach.

What is it that spinach loses in maturity that turns me away?  Body?  Possibly.  Flavor?  No, that’s what it gains.  Ick.  Innocence…?

Oh, and on another positive note, I’m going back to U of I in the fall.  I’ve signed up for two classes so far, one I need to check on July 5th, and the other I’ve sent an e-mail to the professor asking if I could snag a seat.

I’m only going to take four classes this year, see if I can keep from over-extending myself this time around.  However, I think I should be okay.  So far, I have a Russian Sci Fi class and a science class for non-science majors.  Booyah.

Here’s hoping I can squeeze into Symbolic Logic.  (Sounds so cool!)

My four-day respite from work ended yesterday around 4:48 PM.  It was then that I had to begin my trek from Woodstock back to Chambana.  The first leg of the trip was to take a train to Chicago.  Ace got me there three minutes prior to the train actually arriving.  I was worried about purchasing a ticket, and voiced this concern, to which he replied, “You buy that on the train.”  Oh yeah, that’s right.

So I get on, suitcase in hand and backpack on…back.  It is after a few moments of sitting down that my common sense returns like a sack of bricks to the face.  I have a debit card and a credit card.  Tickets cost money.  As in, cold hard cash.  Of which I currently have $0.00.

Thus was spent a few intensely embarrassing minutes with the ticket guy (conductor?), after which it was clear that I’d need to get off at the next stop and buy my ticket there.  I sat there feeling very embarrassed.

About a minute later, I heard someone get the ticket person’s attention.  “Where’s that man going?” I heard a female voice say.  “Chicago.”  I don’t remember the exact wording of the rest of that conversation, but not too long afterwards the guy called over to me.  He informed me that she had just paid for my ticket.

I really wish there was more I could’ve said than thank you.  Because that really doesn’t convey the gratitude I feel.  Heck, I don’t even know her name.

But it’s official now: angels walk among us.  You might be one of them.

It all started night before last; June 15th, to be exact.  An associate at JCPenney was leaving, and she brought muffins for everyone.  Large, Sam’s Club muffins.  With sugar.  I ate a banana nut one, which was delicious, and snagged another one to bring home.  I gave it to Bill and Bahiyyih.  I then ate the peanut butter cookies from a picnic a while back.

Day one: 1 muffin (banana nut), 2 cookies (peanut butter)

June 16th – as it turns out, and as I had seen the previous day, today is Associate Appreciation Day, complete with ice cream, caramel sauce, “hot” fudge, sprinkles and whipping cream.  I took part in this celebration wholeheartedly.  Upon returning home, I also thought I’d get around to eating a chocolate from that sale a long time ago.  It was still yummy.

Day two: 4 bowls of ice cream (2 chocolate, 2 vanilla), various toppings (including sugar cones, caramel, chocolate fudge/sauce, sprinkles), 1 JCP chocolate

June 17 – I come in at one o’clock thinking I’m just on time, when I’m actually four hours early.  That oughtta teach me to read next week’s schedule early.  Anywho, a sign has been attached to the fridge.  It basically says that everything in it is going to be thrown out by the next day.

Unwilling to let such things go to waste, I do my part in packing in the left over ice cream.  During lunch, I decide that, since I’m on such a roll, I’ll finally try some of those flavors at Great American Cookie that looked really tasty.  I now know that the domino and peanut butter blast cookies are delicious, as are their cookie cakes. (I had a slice)  I also tried a cone with just whipping cream.  It’s pretty good.

At the end of the night, I realize that there are still popsicles from some other sale in the freezer, and grab some orange ones.  A fellow co-worker saves the remaining three boxes from a fate worse than death.

Then, on the way home, I discover that the Moonstruck Cafe is still open…and their products are still delicious.  I also find that hot drinks can be useful on summer nights.  At least, I felt cooler after drinking it.

Day three – 2 bowls of ice cream (vanilla), various toppings (chocolate sauce, chocolate whipping cream, sprinkles, sugar cones), 2 cookies (1 domino, 1 peanut butter blast), 1 slice of cookie cake, 3 popsicles (orange), 1 chocolate bar (ultimate gooey), 1 malted mocha (caramel)

So, there’s a record of my more…extremist tendencies.  If I end up being diabetic, you’ll all know why.

But boy, was it delicious.

Edit: It would seem I have acquired a limit.  And broken it.  Severely.

Never.  Doing.  That.  Again.

Wow.  I haven’t woken up feeling nauseous and having to use the facilities at the same time ever.  Believe you me, it is not a pleasant experience.

Although, the resulting lack of movement on my part has gotten me to post, so I suppose that’s one thing it’s got going for it.

 In other news, I have recently found that I am still in the system for signing up for classes.  This is awesome news; or at least, it would be if I could actually sign up for stuff.  With the couple of classes I tried to sign up for that weren’t closed, one brought up a conflict I could understand (not honors student), and the other one I have no idea.  Plus, I still have my old classes on my weekly schedule.  Not my cue of ones I’m registered for, just the weekly glance.  It may have simply been showing a week from when I was there…

…oh, and apparently the advisors for LAS get the summer off, because the phone there rang without end when I tried calling yesterday.  Le sigh…

And, just to set the record straight, I have recently purchased a game with a mature rating. But we have a history, Max Payne and I.  And heck, it was only $15.  It may now join Jet Force Gemini, Cybernator, and Duck Hunt in the pitiful assortment that is my shooter section.

I also got “The Best Ice Cream Maker Cookbook Ever.”  Yum.

I had a weird dream last night.  It…it was something like, I had to leave my house, which was really a room in a big apartment complex, and anything I left would cease to belong to me.

So I planned to leave with a couple friends, and I was getting geared up, but I spent so much time deciding what to bring for one of them that the one waiting with me had to leave (ended up deciding on four pairs of different metallic-colored earrings).  It took me all day to figure out what I was bringing with me.  I finally left the room, with night falling and the guards of whatever organization was kicking people out, and I went out only to find one of the guys wearing a jacket of mine!  So I got upset and he gave it back, and I left to find my friends.  I didn’t feel hopeful that I’d find them though, because it was so late…

All of this with The Root of All Evil playing in the background…

…very weird.

Okay, so I had a more cohesive idea of what I was going to say earlier, but that was before listening to The Root of All Evil by Dream Theater.  However, I do remember the main point.

As it turns out, the charge app goal thing is continuing, and it does not seem that it will go away in the forseeable future.  This time around, however, I was asked how many I would get.  It was still a question I didn’t want to answer, but it was asked all the same.

So I put one.  And wouldn’t you know, the first customer I help wants to apply for a charge card.  Go figure.

Now here’s the thing — I personally feel like asking to apply for a credit card is tantamount to peddling poison.  I don’t want to do it, and it seems wrong to make getting them mandatory.

But when I got it, I felt good.  I didn’t want to, and I mentally  scolded myself after it happened, but it did all the same.  So now I’m morally confused a bit.

Oh yeah, and I missed the last casual friday.  The dress code changed, so now jeans are out 24/7.  Great.

I tried to get an application for the Baskin Robins during my walk home, but it’s really hard finding a legitimate way of talking to the drive-through window guy when you don’t have a car to drive through with.  Or at least, a way that doesn’t look like I want to hold up the place.

I can’t believe I forgot to say this before now, but Georgia has invented the single best band name ever: Smash Pancake.  It is my hope that I will someday be worthy enough to be a part of this phenomenon.

…Best…name…EVER…