passing the glass

well, ladies and gentleman... it turns out that in the process of eating an entire pan of brownies, my furry girl also managed to consume a good portion of the glass pan itself. this was confirmed by large pile of fragments sitting on the floor upstairs in the spare room.

great - another mess to clean up. this mess was a good 2 handfuls deep in GLASS. how the heck did she:
a. swallow it
b. hack it up without cutting the heck outta her insides?

this will remain a mystery.
i'm on mess #3 but i think i see the light. i mean, how much more can possibly come out of that tiny little belly?

i decided to bring chaya into the lab so i could keep an eye on her. the vet told me to keep feeding her heavy foods to assist with the whole "glass passing". items recommended included entire loaves of bread, and cotton balls doused in heavy cream.

mmmm - nothing like a few good cotton balls to wash down - i mean wash out some tasty blue glass.

So, i spent the first hour + of my day today cursing Jess at the gym. she gave me a new workout that is totally kicking my weakling ass. damn! my hands and forearms are completely spent - but i guess i could use a little hair on my chest. ok, well not really, but it's good for me regardless. and now i'm working with my little girl curled up at my feet.

so far no more glass has been passed. so far, so good.

bastard dog

last night, started out as an ordinary wed night. a few of us including POD aka ry, nicole, seth and jess had made plans to meet.

earlier i had made a small batch of cream cheese brownies in a blue glass pyrex pan as i've been craving them lately. this is not random information... keep reading...

i made a nice stir fry on the stove for dinner and had moved the brownies to the counter for safe keeping until i could put them back on the stove behind the tall pots that normally protect them from the large rat that enjoys surfing my counters while i'm not home (my dog for those newbies reading this).

i was running a little late and cleaned up some, gave the monster her evening bone and hopped on the rockhopper to roll downtown. a few hours later, i returned - in good spirits from a chill evening. i walked in the living room from my garage and noticed some strange blue fragments on the carpet covered with an unfamiliar brown gooey substance.

??

this is a normal occurance you see. i come home and there is some strange thing on the floor - a plastic container - perhaps a chop stick. my girl enjoys pulling things that have any remnant of food on them off of the counter. i started to contemplate what she could have possibly gotten into that was blue. then i thought...

no way.

alas, she had managed to get up on the counter, drag the glass pan onto the floor and eat ALL of the brownies in the pan.

there was glass *everywhere*. brownies smashed into the floor...

now it is fairly amazing that she was able to take out a heavy duty pan like that. however - explain to me how a dog could possibly smash such a pan on the counter. and then still get glass all over the floor - spreading into the hall and living room.

she almost went up for adoption last night... but she's too damn cute to follow through with such an idle threat.

she knew i was upset though. she slept downstairs and didn't even try to come up and sleep in her usual spot next to my bed.

and ps - i spent a good hour cleaning this mess up this morning... and the floor still needs to be mopped - AGAIN.

hungover

life brings with it all kinds of different hangovers. there is the conventional head pounding, nausea inducing version which is typically brought on by excessive consumption of alcoholic beverages. then there is the club version brought on by a late night filled with a variety of elements including dancing until dawn. there is the cyclist hangover which is where you take on a ride that's beyond your capability and max your body out - resulting in painfully sore muscles, fatigued body, and a continual need for naps, food and drink.

we are all familiar with these types of hangovers... but there's another one that's of a different variety. this one is a result of a more positive force - where you have a great evening, or series of days, that you don't want to end. in this case the hangover materializes in a different form with a whole new set of symptoms including lack of desire to work, difficulty concentrating and continual contemplation of the weekend past and anticipation of the next one to come.

looks like someone's got a case of the mondays

the former is certainly preferred over the latter. i'll take those few days anytime! BUT hangovers, no matter what form they present themselves, are still no fun.

vertical farming

this is interesting mixed with a pinch of disturbing.

rollin' in style

my bikes of course r now rollin in style (instead of piled up in the back seat).. check out the new rack installed, in entirety, by yours truly. now if only i had time to clean up the ride itself. she's pretty though, even when she's dirty.

she's back

THANK GOODNESS, she's back. She's missing a handlebar plug - but for the most part seems to be in one happy piece.

here are a few highlights

1.) the woman who told me they were closed at 3pm was LYING. the main police chief told me they all have keys and i didn't have to walk home yesterday. He asked me for her name but unfortunately i didnt get it
2) the lady behind the desk slapped an BUTT UGLY green sticker on my frame. screw that. i go into a fight with her because i wanted it on the seat post because it said on my "bike regulation handout" that if my bike was a racing style bike, i could put it on the seat post if it was visible.

"i've been doing this for 20 years" she replies " and this is how we do it"

apparently she's been ignorant of the rules that she is enforcing for 20 years. nice.

3) penn state makes you REFILL out a tedious scantron sheet with your name, address, bike, etc. yes, this happens EVERY YEAR... it's in a database but what fun is it to make good use of technology? let's just recollect information annually to make life all the more fun and exciting!!!

4) i'm still ~40 bucks in the hole after replacing my u-lock.

damn - lesson learned the hard way. but atleast i've got my bike back.

confiscated

i'm sitting here at the computer... hair soaking wet and completely chilled after getting caught in a torrential down pour / thunderstorm while walking home after work.

why the hell would i walk home from work you might ask?

today, sometime between 1 and 3 pm, the bastards who supposedly enforce bike theft safety on the lovely Penn state Campus, decided that it would be a good idea to steAl a carefully LOCKED and totally sweet cross bike, off of the rack. to accomplish this they must have busted through a 15 year old kryptonite u-lock - not an easy task i presume. and they did this all in broad daylight.

i call them up and it went something like this:

me: my bike was stolen
bitchy bike police (bbp): where was it
me: in front of my building
bbp: oh no - it wasn't stolen. we took it - it wasn't registered
me (shocked): you took a locked up, and carefully maintained bicycle from the bike rack?
bbp: yup - and you can't get it back until tomorrow. we're closed. it was 3:15pm!!!

the "yup" response was cheery topped of with a hint of bitch and an air of extreme satisfaction. my blood began to boil, and all sorts of 4-letter adjectives were at the tip of my tongue.

but then i recognized - she had something i wanted. my bicycle. it would serve no purpose to piss her off. it would furthermore be a waste of my time and energy. getting my bike back today was out of the question.

click - i hung up.

i dont understand the bike registration process on campus.

1) they don't profit from it
2) it's not like i couldn't remove a sticker and file off a serial number if i ever wanted to steal someone's stupid bike
3) how does stealing my bike fit into the effort of preventing bike theft around campus? and duh - it's a super sweet bike (and quite new) so it OBVIOUSLY hasn't been left there long!

one might compare this to the irony of capital punishment (on a different level of course)

why kill someone, who killed someone to prove that killing someone is wrong?

later that day it was time to go home. i packed my timbuk2 bag up, and made my way downtown to visit my friends at FreezeThaw, to vent and scope out a new U-lock. the walk home isn't extremely long, however the incoming wind, rain and thunder made it semi-tortuous. although I must admit that while i was completely soaked upon walking into my house - the contents of my messenger back were completely dry.

nice work timbuk2!

there are multiple morals to this story.

1) i either need to get a commuter that i can stomach putting stickers on and getting beat up, or i need to commit to always stashing my ride inside.
2) having a decent messenger bag is the best investment ever - i highly recommend it.
3) and last, but certainly not least... when your bike gets stolen, you can count on getting rained on - all the way home.

wren's health

from fark.com... nice work on this entry!!!

green goblin update

well, i know that many of you have probably been waiting in suspense... to learn about the travels of the green goblin (GG to those who know him well). a few weekends ago, pimp-daddy GG went to tahoe to ride a century with his friend Jess. he was sent off by his caretaker (as opposed to caregiver), with his lovely flowery suitcase, packaged with love and care.

he stopped a few times along the way to check out the scenery. jess has an never-ending supply of gum which comes in handy as you never know when you'll need to pin the GG up on a sign for a rare-photo opp.



apparently he developed a drinking habit along the way. (thanks alot jess for corrupting my little green man!). i mean, atleast get him hooked on something a little more classy and respectable.

all in all it seemed like it was an awesome trip ... AND... jess rocked her first century. (go girl!!) GG has been said to be back in the Centre County area but he has yet to make his presence known... stay tuned for more....

over and out.

the screen

i don't always answer my phone. i figure, if the topic is that important, a voice mail will be left or a txt sent. especially if the number is foreign to me - i don't answer. this week i remembered why i placed this policy into effect many years ago.

yesterday my bosses wife called me at 8am. boy do i regret that moment of weakness where i shared my digits with her. that's a whole different blog. tonight, another number that has called a few times in the past week appeared at 10:30 pm just as i was settling in from my evening gym workout.

like an idiot i answered thinking it may be someone of interest. it was interesting but definitely not someone of interest. it was said boy from the gym ... girl bike guy for those who have read my blogs in the past... who has called a few times past and always manages to insult me in about a 100 different ways.

it was a painful conversation.

about 5/10 minutes in, i managed to get a break.

"i need to dry my hair"
"ok, i'll call you back"

atleast i didn't say i needed to brush it right?

but i did - seriously have wet hair. i just had gotten out of the shower and i don't like to sleep with wet hair.

11pm... ring again. i had to answer this time because he knew i was there. the pain continued.

atleast my hair was dry.

somehow the topic of shopping came up. i had told him earlier at the gym that i don't like to shop. at the gym this made me the "perfect wife". how did he know that is my life long dream. i think he had the apron picked out and everything.

yet on the phone, not enjoying the act of being in stores, and rather being outside doing fun things makes me an anomaly.

"why don't you like to shop" he asked
"because i don't enjoy it - i do it cause i have to"
"do you have some sort of phobia about walls?" he asked "if i took all of the walls out of the store, would you then feel more comfortable"
"no, i simply don't like to shop" i replied. "i'd rather be doing something else that is fun"

he didn't get it. the fun continued...

"how many pillows do you sleep with"
"um... i have a lot of pillows" (i do - but this is a borderline personal question to ask right?)

"do you sleep with one in between your legs"

woah cowboy - let's keep in above the belt for now ok? we just met. (well not really but... come on)

"say something - you're making me carry on the entire conversation" he continued.

i tried but i was speachless. or perhaps it was the *walls*. actually, i think i was still contemplating the pillow question. wherever did he come up with that? AND after that, what can possibly be said? he set the bar high.

i'm generally a patient person, however my attention span is short and i just did not want to deal with this tonight. i'm hungry, tired and would rather talk to my friends who don't ask me about my sleeping habits or challenge my shopping preferences over and over. at 11:20 i finally cut it off.

i made it to round 3 but it was a knock out... and enough is enough. i tried to be polite.

what can you do? he hasn't asked me out so i can't tell him no. i'm not even sure why he's calling to be honest. how do i make it stop short of not answering the phone?

note to self: rejection hotline might not be that bad of an idea after all.

don't drink and drive

how does one mistake an enormous flight of steps (normally packed with people) for a road??? man drives down spanish steps.

war of the roses

recently i was at someone's house for a small gathering. they - said home owners - are in the middle of a divorce yet are still living together.

she was with all of the guests, eating, laughing, enjoying her time. he, was in and around the house - was barely introduced to the guests, and seemed to want to be a part of something that he only half-heartedly invited to - in his own house.

they are both in their 50's - perhaps he was near or at 60. and have been married for close to the entire span of my life. and it's now over.

she was joking about finding a cute cyclist man (speaking to the choir!!)... BUT did he hear that? it was said in a loud voice.

awkward.

i was sad.

how can a relationship make it through multiple decades and then fail at an age when you're finally able to enjoy time together - kids are grown up, out of the house. house is largely paid for. how can it fail then?

is this what we have to look forward to? tip-toing around each other under the same roof? multiple decades of working together and being in love dissolved via certified mail and a few signatures. being back in the singles scene at 50+ trying to find that right one who you can share your life with and learn to love 'for better or worse'.

i hope not.

bite me

it says that on my hydration pack so i figured it was appropriate. something bit me on sunday in rothrock; it left a lovely red, golf ball sized mark which was quite painful last night - especially as it was brushed by multi-flora rose thorns out in scotia. it seems better today and has gone down to quarter size, but... damn!

what the heck could it be from?!!

updates

it's been a busy past couple of days. busy having fun - which is a goal of the summer that has already been realized a few times over. friday i got to catch up again with OMY aka snacky for some food. and then drinks at... where else but zenos... with nicole after.

and just in case you were on the edge of your seat wondering.. i was able to bust out some pickup lines with reactions varying from a good laugh to utter confusion (what the heck did that girl just randomly ask me my sign?). OMY was on board and even beat me to the punch a few times over.

saturday was a good ride out to coburn. the pace including a nice headwind was tough and i worked the entire time to keep up with the group - being periodically dropped on rollers and windy stretches.

sunday was the stoopid 50. i rocked my super cool, asian chocolate lollipop badge (thanks to Frank )... and got to ride the cross bike around some in the woods. it was a good day and a good night.

all in all it was a great weekend... with more of those to come...

pimpalicious

so randomly i was looking up mack daddy after a convo with snacky the other day... and randomly i decided to check out my name because someone suggested i do so...

To describe something of such superb standards it almost cannot be described by any word or sentence or onomatopoeia in the English language.

Oh man, look at that Leah!
She soooo sexy!!!!

if u don't believe it - look it up yourself.
!!!!!!!!!!

rejection lines

recently, i was confronted w/ 2 thought-provoking questions regarding pick up lines...

a) do guys really think that this approach works?
b) why don't girls jump on board?

I have a partial answer to A, but to B, i decided to dive into uncharted waters. there was a group of us sitting at pickles, and I was in an unusually good mood - full of energy from the post-climbing ride high. i didn't know many at the table, but was hanging with my girl nicole so it was totally comfortable. she began randomly hammering one poor guy at the table with questions left and right as she didn't know him. why not? :) out of the blue, i decided to make a tactical diversionary move and bust out the most over used, pick-up line on the planet.

"what's your sign?"

oh yea. so the guy blushed, was a bit shocked... (but then answered). and everyone cracked up. nicole's questions ceased for the time being (she's so fun to go out with) BUT the best part was when the entire table started discussing their signs....

"ewww -- virgo???
"i'm a pisces"

so much for the pick-up line picking anyone up. but it certainly did spark more quality conversation. ok, so really it served to entertain me for the time-being... but hey. So, i decided to do some research... and have found some quality lines that I may just have to try out the next time i'm out... and bored w/ the same old conversation...

here are a few of the unisex ones that are my favorites so far... feel free to make suggestions if you feel there are some good ones to test out.

"Is there an airport nearby or is that just my heart taking off?"
"Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes."
"Was you father an alien? Because there's nothing else like you on Earth!"
"Is your dad a terrorists? Because you are the bomb."
"Your daddy must have been a baker, because you've got a nice set of buns."

BUT WAIT -- there's more...

did you know that there are now rejection hotlines?? i thought i'd share with all of my near and dear bloggie friends out there... 212.479.7990 ... it's free, harmless, and lets party x down easy (i guess??)... pick option 1 - it's pretty funny.

the end.

because i'm a 3d geek

ok - for all of you who wanted to see this mother project that i spent most of the spring working on ... here it is:



Click here to view the entire project - you can also see compressed animations The animations are super short - but they take literally days to render.. so the process of refining them is SLOW. this is AFTER you deal with compiling all of the data, mosaicing imagery, etc. this is what i want to do when i grow up - i just need to figure out how to make that happen. :) Here is another page that i made to kinda explain the process. You can see some of my other models here too.

White Trash - the last racist thing you can say and get away with

This came from an old friend from college via myspace. i figured i'd share seeing as i've been on the random quotes and bits of knowledge theme lately.... and naturally we all know that Ray will soon be a MD resident... and Dave and I share the common bond of coming from the lovely state. (though i was born in DC so i can rock the gansta roots - ha!). and, ry if you are reading this ... this should constitute a none BONEHEAD posting.

According to John Waters, white trash is “the last racist thing you can say and get away with.”.. read on. it's interesting i promise.

Whether they use the term white trash or not, most Americans are unaware of its long and ugly history. If you had to guess, you’d probably say that the term arose in the Deep South, sometime in the middle of last century, as a term that whites coined to demean other whites less fortunate than themselves. Yet most of what we presuppose about the term is wrong.

The term 'white trash' dates back not to the 1950s but to the 1820s. It arises not in Mississippi or Alabama, but in and around Baltimore, Maryland. And best guess is that it was invented not by whites, but by African Americans. As a term of abuse, white trash was used by blacks—both free and enslaved—to disparage local poor whites. Some of these poor whites would have been newly arrived Irish immigrants, others semiskilled workers drawn to Baltimore and Washington, D.C. in the postrevolutionary building boom, and others still may have been white servants, waged or indentured, working in the homes and estates of area elites. The term registered contempt and disgust, as it does today, and suggests sharp hostilities between social groups who were essentially competing for the same resources—the same jobs, the same opportunities, and even the same marriage partners....

Read the entire article here - it's actually a bit disturbing: That Ain't White - The long and ugly history of 'trash' talk By Matt Wray

great typography for riding.

today is profound online quotes day. this comes from a review of patapsco state park in md...

The best all-around trail riding in the area. Something for all skill levels and opportunities to grow skills. The scenery is beautiful; typography makes for an excellent workout. Lots of fun ... can be intense or relaxing, which ever you choose.

little did i know that i was getting a daily workout laying out brochures and maps! sweet.

needed: freelance freak

This was actually posted on a reputable GIS job clearinghouse website.

Needed: ArcGIS Server 9.2 Freak, Private Web Media Company, USA (Chicago or Houston preferred)

Need a freelance freak in ArcGIS Server 9.2 to join our team. We're building a sick web-based mapping site for a new kind of social networking. Bonus if you've worked with Navteq or Teleatlas databases before. Double bonus if you know something about mobile phone networks. Send resume with links to stuff you've done so we can see if you're the kind of freak we're looking for. Email to "xxxxxxx@gmail.com". Map on dude.

It's GIS staring the teenage mutant ninja turtles... turtle power dude!

siglo en mis el propios

a friend last year, while completing our first century, stated that he could never ride another century again. why? because naturally, if he never road another century, he could always claim that the july 4 2006 century was his best century ever. the pressure is on after the first one and so enters the risk of the downward spiral!

however, i think that i'm on to something. last year - first century. last week, fastest century (by FAR) and today, one week later, the first century on my own... well not completely on my own, fearless leader rito was also present... but the century was sans drafting so i had to pull my own weight - all friggin day. i felt like crap waking up in the am - couldn't eat - but somehow managed to muster through on 1.5 bars and lots of gatorade and water. i was grumpy and not very talkative, but so it went. my new heart rate monitor said i burned 3000+ calories today. is this even possible? and if so, where did they (said calories) all come from? My ample ass? :)

ben joined us on the way out and we got to catch up a little. we're contemplating a new sport - it's called Muay Thai cycling - and naturally it involves cycling & kicking ass (2 of my most favorite things). i think our first lesson will involve unclipping - you see in order to efficiently sneak up on your opponent, one needs to learn how to unclip in silence. it's a challenge, but i think we're up to it.

my mind is still consumed with the question "what am i going to do when i grow up". i'm not sure where i should be right now. the last time that i checked, i think i fell into the "grown up" category, which makes the question that much more bothersome. riding down to and through altoona brought back many memories - good and bad - of the ex - places we used to go, drive through, visit, etc... ironic to be contemplating the future while on a ride through tour of the past.

but so it goes...