New Poast

So I got a new car, and I'm really enjoying it.  Its a 350z, and its orange. 

I love it.  I've already determined that my old rims wont fit due to some little dingus on the disc brake. 

I'm going to Colorado to visit my Mom, step Dad, sister and brother in law -and- (most especially) my little niece and nephew for Thanksgiving.  Boy do I have a lot to be thankful for.   

Family is odd, everyone says that when you have a good family it truly is a blessing.  And I think that saying never carries enough weight.  Why, every time I see my niece do I think "I would protect her with my life without hesitation" and when I see pictures of my new nephew do I think "I need to be a better person so he looks up to his Unca Chuckie"? I believe its something God built in.  Maybe.

I love my family. 

The best part about a blog that no one reads is...

Its like a sounding board with no sound.  I can put some of my more personal and retarded thoughts on here without too much fear that the wrong people would read them.  (is that secretly what I want?)

So with this in mind,  I think I'm slowly becoming cynical.  Or emotionally unavailable, or something.  Laziness has always been a part of my life.  Not that I just sit around all the time (which is happening more often now with the advent of Wrath of the Lich King) I stay active for the most part, but things that require my attention don't get done.  Laundry is a good example, or cleaning my room, or even fixing my car. (fully.  I get it to minimal operation status and leave it be.  There are probably 5 major things that need fixing on my car, but it still drives fine.) 

Cynicism on the other hand has not been part of my life.  Really ever.  I did go through a bout of loneliness and depression in middle school when I was being picked on daily, but who couldn't say they've been through something similar?  Real cynicism, like expecting to be disappointed in everyone,  or expecting the mundane to happen even when you try your hardest to live an interesting life is what I'd say I've been getting a taste of lately.  

I've been places and done new things to keep me off balance.  I've gone away on a whim to a tropical island by myself, no plans.  I've been to a 3rd world country just because I've never been there.  I've tried to scare myself stupid once a week on average.  

More.  I need to do more.  And I can't do that in a relationship.  I can't have someone worrying about my safety while I'm climbing radio towers in a wind storm, or petrified that I'll go to jail for sneaking into a water tower that is under construction.  I would feel uncomfortable with someone I care about being vexed that I just learned that front wheel drive cars are indeed easier to do a full 360 turn in, and continue driving down the road.  I don't need the added burden of someone turning to me and telling me to take my anti-malarial like the nurse told me to.  The thought of a girl crying over me not coming home because I need to look danger in the face needlessly makes my heart constrict my throat just a bit.

I really just want to be alone, and that hurts.

Is it freedom I want? Or do I need someone who is as crazy and irresponsible as me?  *shudder* I really dont think I'd be with me were I a girl, so maybe thats not what I need.  

I think everyone wants to be a superhero.  I am struggling though, with one thing that this wish of mine betrays.  I want evil in the world, for the sole selfish purpose that I can oppose it. Why would I want that? Am I trying to show off? I don't tell anyone about half of the stupid things I do, so I'm not yet convinced of that.  (not putting that one down for an instant though)

It wouldn't be fair for me to get into a relationship with me like this. (well, another relationship) I've been in one where I showed no real interest and just kind of let her break it off.  I also went out with a girl and left it completely open ended. I just stopped calling her.  My interest level is declining more and more rapidly with every girl I involve myself with, and I can't for the life of me figure out why.  

I'd like to say that its because I broke it off with the only girl I've ever loved and was loved back, and I'm in regret.  I don't really feel that this is the case.  I had a good year and a half after I broke up with her when I feel like I could've hopped into another relationship and put the emotion and love and work into making it last.  Its only been about a year since I started feeling that its not worth it, and I think we stopped dating about 3 years ago.  Is the fact that I bring her  up an indication of anything? Or am I just bringing it up because thats been the closest thing to success with a girl I've ever had?

The introspective side of me has started to wax cool as I'm writing, and it all seems like whining.  I'm debating not publishing, but ctrl+a delete is more work than clicking 'publish post.'

I'd also like to say that this isn't the direction I was going with this post when I started.  I wanted to end with something like 'And so, in conclusion, the sign up chart for the make-out-with-you-and-never-call-back is in the kitchen, next to my sandwich maker.'

-Notsocontentbutcontentwiththat

Updates? Who'da thunk?

Ok, so an immense amount of craziness and coolness and WoWness has happened over the last few months.  Namely, Ret Paladins were GODS for a week and subsequently nerfed to the ground, I went to the UK and Kenya, my job rocks, and life is looking up. (Not that life doesn't look up normally, it just seemed the thing to say)

Wrath of the Lich King is out and I'm enjoying my play again.  I am having a lot of fun running around and seeing the new area.  Consequently, I have yet to step foot in a new instance.  All in good time I suppose.  My tier 5 and 6 equivalent gear doesn't look to be replaceable any time soon, and there are so many cool quests to see and people to kill.  

Thus far, my favorites have been around the Nexus instance, there is something about a great dragon battle that entices me.  

I have heard that there is a mod out there that has an arrow on your screen for where to go for your quest, and pathing for the most efficient ways to all the quests.  I feel that would take all the fun out of the game, maybe even replace that 'new game smell' with something a little gayer.

My little Ret Pally is still quite adept at killing things, with the advent of Divine Storm and some tweeks to the crit system (some of the crit damage has been moved into a DoT for some of our abilities) we come out better than 2 months ago, just not as amazing as we were a few weeks back.

ARUBA BABY!!11!

insert----I have been meaning to post this for a while, I just never remember to when I have ye 'ole laptop on.  Well, heres Aruba.

Yes, the last of the ‘ABC’ islands for me to visit.  I find it kind of ironic that I saved the most well known of them for last.  ABC = Aruba, Bonaire, Curacao, all part of the Dutch Antilles. 

 

BEST TRIP EVAR?

 

Well, being that I went with Karl, Marshall and Zach (Marshall’s buddy) I couldn’t help but have had a great time, not even mentioning that Aruba is amazing.  This has been the most fun I’ve had in ages.  To start with, the 2^nd day on the island, we booked a something called ABC Jeep safari.  If anyone reading this goes to Aruba DO THIS.  It was 80 bucks for 8-9 hours of solid fun.  I think my favorite part is that I got to drive one of the Jeeps (actually a tank of a land rover defender) in some pretty amazing off-roading conditions.  We started out by stopping by the northern most point on the island (by the way, Aruba is only 9x19 miles) at a ‘California Style’ lighthouse.  Very splendid view as we were really high up.  Afterwards we drove through a really nice housing area, to show off some of the bigger houses on the island.  One of the houses had a ‘pool house’ that was its own plot and address.

We dropped by a quaint church that was nearly 300 years old or something, which I really could care less about except that we had to go off-roading to get there.  From there we rambled down the dirt roads to a ‘fort’ which was actually a gold refinery built like a fort so that pirates would think twice before coming near it.  It was really cool, built right into the side of a huge rock formation.

After we had our fun throwing rocks, we went to something called the ‘natural pool.’  That was far from the most interesting thing, except for the fact that we had to climb over a mountain with the truck to get there.  These land rovers are big, heavy, turbo diesels that have as much torque as a medium sized semi-truck (it feels at least) And an extremely heavy frame, lowering the center of gravity substantially.  I’m even sure as of this recounting that driving that thing over huge rocks and dizzying heights was my favorite part of the whole tour. 

We got to the natural pool, me right behind the lead car with the tour guide in it, and our third truck way back still climbing down the side of the mountain.  There were about 20 trucks all lined up outside of the pool, and naturally even more people in this pool with snorkels.  I was less than impressed with it, though my feelings toward it would probably have been much more positive had there been enough room to swim in it without someone kicking you in the face.  I did find a cool eel though.  We climbed up some even steeper rocks on the way back out of the place, putting a huge smile on my already smiling face.

We ate lunch at an ostrich farm.  Yeah, weird…I know. After avoiding the pork ribs and chowing down on some chicken legs, we got to feed some ostriches out of our hands. The guide that walked us through the farm told us all about how good they are to eat or something, even if their meat is supremely expensive.  I’m not sure if ostrich is clean.  Anyhow that was pretty fun and interesting.  Did you know that an ostrich can sustain 45 miles an hour for an hour? Also, their feet reminded me of a velociraptor.

Caves have always been very fascinating to me, and what awesome do-everything-in-the-world tour wouldn’t be complete without going into a cave?  Got some shots of bats flying and such, and saw some 1000 year old cave paintings.  Very neat.

We went from there to the Natural Bridge, which actually fell in 2005, but they had a smaller ‘spare’ off to the side that was an equally impressive bit of geology.  Sadly, the whole area was full of human trash piled about.  Kinda makes me mad that anyone would come to such a beautiful place only to throw their corndog wrapper in the sea. 

The last stop of the day was someplace called Baby Beach. It was a small protected cove with lots of people swimming and sunning.  They had some good hamburgers and beers there too.  What a day!

 

At night out on the beach we saw the aftermath of something I have wanted to see in person for a very long while.  A leatherback hatching!  Baby leatherbacks climbed out of the sand, and flap flapped their way to the ocean and we were about 3 minutes late. Luckily, one straggler was just emerging when I arrived and I got to watch him flap flap all the way down the beach. I know I’m not going to sound too manly saying this but….SO CUTE.  Ok, now that that is over with….

 

Zach and I were both already certified divers, and we couldn’t bully Karl or Marshall to get certified while they were down here.  This led to it being only me and Zach having one of the coolest dives ever! I had thought that you had to be in the ‘advanced’ certified category to dive wrecks, but I guess they don’t care much in Aruba.  We went to go see the ship called the Jane Sea.  It was a freighter that was used by drug smugglers to haul their shipments around the Caribbean, and was subsequently caught and seized.  They sank it out in 65’ to 100’ waters (it was on an incline, and the ship itself was 200’ long)

I have to say that I felt more like a little boy floating there, 90 feet under water looking at this huge vessel in all its sunken glory than I have in 10 years.  My eyes were wide with surprise and awe as we swam through a common area, a kitchen, and bunking quarters.  There was just something about being there, underwater, watching the whole ship alive with coral and fish swimming all about (and me there personally able to interact with it!) that was hugely amazing to me.  It was probably only my 5^th dive ever, but I have a feeling that I’ll remember this one as my favorite for a long, long time.

The second dive was a ‘lazy man’s dive’ i.e. a drift dive.  You go with the current.  We got to see all shapes, sizes and manners of fish, coral, and everything in between.  I was hoping that the small cut I received from maneuvering through the tight quarters of the Jane Sea would attract a shark or two, but no such luck.  I saw a cool yellow spotted moray eel, and Zach found a confusingly bright cobalt colored shrimp hanging out on the top of a coral outcropping.  Parrot fish, sergeant majors, grouper, and barracuda all about.  It was a great day, made all the better that it was a personal, cheap, fun guy that took us and only one other couple.

 

A few days on the beach, hanging out with some girls that Zach met filled some of the week as well, we actually came to be good friends with Jen, Katie and Sara.  They were from Connecticut or something.  They were kinda our ‘Aruba Buddies’ for the trip.  We went out to a big dinner with them one night, and then on to the famous senior frog’s in downtown.  We had a lot of fun cooking for them and them for us. 

 

Friday, we tried our foot at wind surfing!  I can now wind surf on a cursory level.  Learning the basics was actually easier than I anticipated, (I was thinking this would be like learning to snowboard, something that I did not have an easy time with)  and maybe that’s why I was probably the one who liked it most. (Gotta set those sights low!) Right after wind surfing, we went to something called Jolly Pirates.  It was a cruise on a Brazilian two-masted schooner with an open bar for two hours.  Definitely recommended.  This was a ton of fun.  We motored out of the port and then put the sails out and went up the coast.  Sailing has always been one of my interests, but I’ve never really acted on it.  I think this trip will put a bit of a fire under me to go out and learn to sail on a personal level.  The best part of the whole thing was the rope swing.  You get to jump from the prow of the ship out into the crystal cleat Arubian waters.  We did that for about 30-45 minutes, then put the sails out and sailed back to the harbor.  We watched most of the amazing sunset that day from the trapeze on the prow of the ship.

 

That’s most of the high points of the trip, and I give a big thumbs up to Aruba.  Take at least a week.

It's funny when the person administering the test is a retard

Hi, Charlie.

Thank you for taking the Instant IQ Test.

You scored: 145

Your IQ Range is Above 140 and you are EXTREMELY INTELLIGENT.

Congratulations on completing our IQ test! Based on your answers to the test questions, your IQ is above 140. IQ scores are based on a scale where a score of 100 is the average score. By scoring higher than 100, you have shown that you have a higher than average intelligence level. Your score range of above 140 is the highest category and indicates that you are extremely intelligent, so again, congratulations are in order! Your intelligence level can say a lot about how you approach life. By having a high score, you are someone who can face their challenges and often overcome them easily. You look at the world and are able to make sense of it by fitting together the pieces of the puzzle.

Thank you for taking our fun IQ test!

I climbed it.

Whats something silly that you've done this week?

THIS IS ARRRRUUUUUBBBBAAAAAA!!!!!111!!!!!!ELEVEN!one!!!

The third island of the Dutch Antilles, Aruba. The one of the three 'ABC' islands I havent been to.

That is all.

Caribbean Island life

I’ve had it. That will be enough. I am getting older, I can now say I’m in my “mid twenties.” No more boredom. No more idle sitting waiting for the world to come to me. I’m wasting my prime sitting in front of the television and computer. I want to get out. Go exploring, go to the world, go see everything. I have the means, and I have no wife and kids to keep me from being completely irresponsible with my time and actions. Dont try to stop me.

From hence forth, I will be documenting my travels, adventures and general insanity on my camera (thanks Vally!!) and sharing it with whoever cares enough to get on ringo (or wherever free image hosting will be) and here to check it out.

History, geology, economy, people, language, and beer. I will evaluate all these things wherever I go.

For my first act: Curacao. Many people would pronounce it “cur-a-ko” like we call the drink in the states, but its “Cure-a-sow.” The first thing to know about Curacao is that it is in the Dutch Antilles, located just north of Venezuela (Basically the south Caribbean, next to Aruba and Bonaire.) The residents consist of Dutch, African, and South American descendants.

History. This place has got some. In WWII, Curacao housed the largest oil refinery in the entire Caribbean. This refinery led to the US putting a few installations in protecting the harbor that it was in. Two in the front of the bay, one at the entrance and one further back. These have all since been decommissioned and are now generally used as restaurants or lookouts. The Dutch took the island in the 1500s from the resident Indians, and have held it nearly since then. In the 1800s, the Brits sailed into the harbor and took the island on New Year’s Eve. The governor of the island was too inebriated to even order the military to fire on the invading British. 4 years from then, the Brits gave the island back to the Dutch as a peace offering.

The geology of the island was quite interesting. Coral forms most of the island, but to get it up and out of the sea (and in the process making a few large and abrupt “hills”) it had a bit of volcanic help. It would spring up through volcanic activity, then the coral would form around it, and just as the coral got close to the surface, the magma would rise once again, forcing the coral up and out of the sea. This happened several times, giving the island an interesting layered lay out. No real minerals of interest could be mined from the coral. There was one funny side note to the rocks of the island. Millions of years ago, only the “hills” of the island were visible above the water, and thousands of generations of birds nested on it. This led to an eventual build of several tons of bird dookie that lined an entire ridge. This has since hardened into stone and is now excavated for building material (such as mortar mix) and nutrient additives to food and drink (yum.)

I got to know some of the people who shaped the economy of the island while I was there. The currency that is used was called “guilders” and one American dollar was about 1.8 guilders. It made for some decently cheap drinks. They took American dollars at any establishment, but gave back guilders. Mr. Steve Boom (pronounced Boam, due to the Dutch heritage) was involved in much of the major city’s development. We strolled through the streets of Curacao as he recounted how a lot of the inner city buildings were commissioned by him. I also got to know the man who exports Curacao Blue, (of which many imitations have been found) as well as many other different liquors.

The people of Curacao. My goodness, they were all so friendly that I couldn’t help but make several friends while I was there. I even now can go back at any time and stay and my new friends Egan (pronounced E-HAUCK-an) and Marianna’s house. (son and daughter in law of Mr. Boom.) I also made a friend of Rewault, Mr. Boom’s other son. Egan took me out on his boat while I was there. What a fun bunch of people out there! We met up with several of their friends while tied off at a beach, and I made friends with a Canadian IT guy Scott and his family. I also went to something called “Mambo Beach” where a ton of the Dutch youth get together and speak one or more of the many languages they all have at their disposal. I even was taken to a club, where they attempted to hook me up with several cute Dutch girls, however apposed I was to their “sleep first ask questions later” attitude. I got a few numbers that I never called.

Language(s). I really was taken aback. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was fluent in at the very least 3 languages. Most knew more. Popiamento-a was the general language of the island, and it’s a mix of Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, and Dutch. Being that mostly latin languages were in its make up I could pick up about 25% of words, and sometimes get the general meaning of sentences. Dutch was spoken mostly in front of me when it was not English, and Dutch is what I took the most interest in. I know very little German, but I really would like to learn both German and now Dutch someday. I could pick up on some of the syntax with my German experience but no where near enough to be dangerous or speak anything other than normal greetings and thank-you’s. Spanish was spoken by some people, and I have enough experience with that to converse on a very light subject. Overall, I was very impressed with the ease that the inhabitants of the island took to other languages. Mr. Boom knows Dutch, English, Popiamento-a, and Portugese fluently while also being able to converse in Spanish, Italian, French and German.

Ah, beer. Yes, I have always enjoyed tasting the different styles of alcohol that are around the world, but beer is the closest to me. Unfortunately there aren’t many good Dutch beers on tap. Being on the beach I asked Egan if they served Corona, or anything similar to it at the bar. I was pointed to something called Amstel Bright. To my surprise, it was an exact clone of Corona extra, but cheaper. A very good beer. After a few of those I asked around what beer is the favorite among the Dutch people, and was pointed to Polar. It was a nice lager with a decent amount of bite to it, I found myself ordering that from then on. I wanted to experiment a bit but there really was not that wide a selection wherever I went. It seemed it was either Guiness or something much much lighter. Overall, I’d rate the Polar in the top 10 lagers I’ve had.

I suppose I will end up writing the whole sequential story of my time on the island (and a little bit of fun back at the Miami airport on the return trip) but I’ll save that for later.

The fun part of travel

It started as a normal Thursday, except that I knew I had taken Friday and the following Monday off.

Backing up a bit, lets start with the fiasco. Or…All of it. Thursday I get off of work about 30 minutes early to go see my Dad (as he promised me B-Day dinner) and tell him of my 4 day weekend. Now, I had initially taken Friday and Monday off due to two factors: the California non-denominational church youth get-together, and the Formula One race in Monaco. I was torn between which one I wanted to go to more until I decided to go to Monaco and witness F1 in all its glory first hand. That was, until I found that tickets (even standing room only) STARTED at about 300 bucks. Not to mention that a night in Monaco costs nearly a full 1000 dollars.

After mentally backing out of the WEekend in California, I decided to go someplace else. Japan! I planned out what little I could do in Japan in such a short stint (made even shorter by the super long flight there and back) and brought the plan to my father. After looking at flights, he prosed going to Curacao, he had a business partner there that would pull some strings and possibly get me a bungalow there for free. The only way to Curacao was from Miami airport, and no flights looked open to Miami at all. He took a look at sending me to Orlando, then flying to Miami, then off to the Caribbean from there. Going to Orlando was easy, but getting to Miami via plane was still horrendous. So, I was to fly to Orlando and rent a car for a quick 50 bucks and drive down. The catch: The flight to Orlando was leaving 2 hours from now, I had not packed, and I was 1 hour from my house in traffic.

I raced home, an amazing feat of 45 minutes in that dallas traffic, and started throwing everything I needed into my suitcase. I was stinky but had no time for a shower. Let me remind you, the flight LEFT in 1:15 hrs. I double checked everything and stole Karl’s flip flops just for good measure. The plane was now to leave in 55 minutes. I raced to where I was to meet my Dad and got there with about 20 minutes until the flight left. It was Grapevine mills mall, so it almost seemed do-able. We went to the terminal as fast as the jeep could go without flying apart, and made it to the drop point. Still 12 minutes till the plane took off. My father had “checked me in” electronically an hour before (yes!) and I got to the self-check in machine. It told me I was signing in too late. A quick call to the Father and we checked in at the counter. We were good to go. By this time I was sweaty, hungry, tired from work, and wired from the whirlwind of running all about DFW. I was liable to make a mistake or two. I forgot that my temp license was the only way to validate my now “out of date” license, and had left the temp license at home (not intentionally mind you) So the nice man at the counter asked for my passport instead of putting me through the “search every cavity” line. I quickly handed it over and said thanks in a breeze. Then I forgot my belt was on. BEEP. Crap. Then I forgot my phone may have some metal in it. BEEP--CRAP! Two beeps means you get to go to the “yeah that cavity” line and wait as the precious minutes ticked by. All this effort, all this scrambling, and the last flight to Orlando was leaving in 5 minutes, and I was 3 minutes into a 5 minute pat-down. With seconds left to spare I arrived at the gate, them ready to close the door. Seeing the yellow mark on my boarding pass, the gate agent saw I was “a security risk” and took my first class ticket she had in hand and printed out a ticket next to the engine. Well, whatever. I MADE IT.

The flight was two hours long, and I thought about the two hours leading up to getting in the plane. The prior felt like it went by in 15 minutes, the current left me feeling like I was in a showing of all three Lord of the Rings movies back-to-back.

On the plane I pulled out the ole’ trusty laptop to see that in my rush out of the house I had hit the shut off button, then slapped it shut. Well vista sees that I shut the lid and puts it in sleep mode instead of just continuing the shutdown. I wake it up to watch it shut down seconds later. And now the battery is at 35%. A few chess games with the computer mercilessly killing me and the battery was at critical. So I found my thoughts filling the remaining hour and a half flight.

Wait a minute. My license. Not current. No temp license? Didn’t I have to rent a car? SIGH. I mustered up as much machismo was left in me and strutted to the Alamo rental counter. And put my credit card in the self-check in. Better to avoid human contact as much as possible. So I walked out to pick up the car and showed the man my printed out paperwork. He said choose one and go. Really? I thought. This was way too easy! A huge smile cracked on my face as I strolled to my chevy cobalt and started her up. Wow! Haha! Oh, they check you out when you leave the garage. I explained my situation (heres where all the built up machismo and confidence came in. Actually, instead of machismo leaking out after time, if you don’t vent it, it just continues to build.) about how I left my temp license at home, and if you would just punch my license number in to the machine you’ll see its current (well, I wanted them to have a machine like that at least) She said go to her manager to get approval, and I confidently backed the car out and went back to the first gentlemen. Psyching myself up, I walked in with an arrogance that you could almost see pouring off of me. I explained again with a slight crook tugging up on one side of my lips. I wish I had recorded it. There was no way to say no to me at that moment in time. The man called me sir reverently (not like the cheesy “yes sir have a good trip (er whatever)” More like he wanted to call me “sire.” I got his signature and walked out with a real smile. I drove right by and flashed my sig at the lady out back and drove off. THANK YOU LORD.

I had 10 hours till the flight to Curacao and I was only about 225 miles from Miami. I drove leisurely down the Florida Turnpike and stopped to get some coffee for good measure. Of all the things to do, I threw the keys in the trunk and shut it. I was dumbfounded. I just watched myself do it. Well, at least the car was open, and theres got to be a way into the trunk, right? Wrong. the seats did not fold down. Luckily, it looks like they were designed to fold down but just no release was set in place so I went about pulling on the top of the seat and shoving my arm painfully inside. I moved my bag aside and felt about for a few minutes before I started to use Karl's flipflop as a tool to find the keys. Success! I found them and dragged them to me.

Once that was over, I decided that I’d kill time by stopping by Miami beach on the way to the airport. I was too wired from the night’s happenings to sleep anyhow. I went in the direction of the beach when I crossed the Miami line, and found a good spot to leave the car. I took my camera and started walking down the beach. Some of the most beautiful architecture is done with these beach-side condo high rises. The beach was a nice as I remember, and the moon was bright, adding a romantic element to it all. I trudged up the beach for a few miles and decided I’d wait for the sun to rise, take some nice pictures and revel in the view. I turned back toward the car when the first light broke and watched. I found a chair and sat down, took in the beauty of it all. I took some pictures…..and fell asleep in the chair. I awoke groggy as all get-out about 15 minutes later when someone started yelling that they found some chairs to watch the sun rise in. So I gained what was left of my energy and trudged back towards the car. I was asleep while walking and still had a few miles to go. I had to think of something to keep me up, so I started running. I returned to the car no more awake then when I had wiped the drool from my face on the chair. Now I had about 3 hours to find the Miami airport, check in, and go to the Caribbean. No problem. Right? Being tired really didn’t help my directional skills, and REALLY didn’t help when I followed signs that pointed toward the airport then suddenly ended giving no more direction right before a 4 way stop. I never picked the right one. 2.5 hours till my flight left I found it. I found the airport. I was stinky, dressed in running clothes, and needed to find a way to clean up. I drove through the airport (which was having a considerable amount of construction done) and tried to find the rental return. I couldn’t find it, and ended up on a highway out of the airport. My tired self decided to take the first exit and turn right back around and go into the airport that way. No such luck. I was mere 50 yards from the airport with no way into it for about 30 minutes. Driving in now morning rush hour traffic desperately trying to find the stinkin’ entrance. Getting more and more enraged at the ridiculous system of roads they had in Miami I drove madly out and around the whole city trying to find ANY major road that would lead in the right direction. I went from Ghetto to downtown and still no real roads. I stopped in a gas station and changed into my nice shirt and slacks, dodging puddles of urine and stench too foul to recall. Phew, I stink. I finally found a major highway and followed that right to the airport. Here came the frustrating part: The rental return (for which there were signs ALL over the place for) took me in a circle. A circle that is endless unless you decide to not believe one of the signs and take a chance on where to go. After circling the airport 3 times I made my calculated move. I ended right back up in the loop. I stopped the car in a rage and called the rental idiots who had put all those confusing signs up at obvious locations (like where there were no turns, it would say “continue on this road for RENTAL RETURN” ) and no signs where you were given 14 choices of where to go. They apologized and told me how to get there (which, after all that, wasn’t even in the airport) and I returned the car.

45 minutes till the flight left. Miami airport sucked. LINES AND LINES AND LINES. I finally was able to shake some of the groggs off with a stem of machismo. I stalked up to a counter and forcefully used a self check in that some one was leaning on. I was “checking in too late” again. I asked the lady at the counter with a sly look on my face what she could do for me. She immediately handed me a boarding pass for first class and said “you’d better get movin’ hun” I ran and ran to the security check point and ran some more through it. Semi short lines were my saving grace. I got to the check in counter about 10 minutes before the flight left and there was a HUGE line in front of the counter. After waiting for about 3 minutes I figured out that that was the line to Haiti. Ok, here we go tired Charlie, this way. I boarded the plane and fell into my huge chair. I was on the way to Curacao finally.

Am I in shape or really really out of shape?

So I went to this "body age assessment" that my gym had and here's what I found out:

Body fat % (skin fold test) 17% Optimal (way up over last time I checked)

VO2: 44.4 ml/kg min, Below Average (what the crap? I'm supposed to be a runner!?)

Bicep Strength: Great 103lbs (one pound from being in the highest "excellent" category)

Flexibility: Average

Body age: 19 (I guess thats good?)


So anyhow I was asking my trainer about the VO2 and how I could run better than most people I know with such a sucky VO2 level. He was wondering that too (he had asked before hand what my workout schedule looked like) and told me about AT (aerobic threshold) this is where your body stops using fat for energy and starts using glucose and carbs. You get more energy for longer when you stay below your AT. This is usually a number; your beats per minute when you cross that threshold. Someone in shape will have an AT of anywhere between 160 and 175 is what he said, and told me that his AT is at 178BPM.

I was curious and asked how to get my AT. He said that we could strap a heart monitor on me and hit the treadmill. At first he just kept me at a brisk walking pace and raised the incline every few minutes, he said that was enough to get most people's AT. After about 15 minutes of walking straight up and carrying on a conversation about being a personal trainer with the guy he gave up and started running me. My heart was beating pretty quickly when I was finally at a perceived point of aerobic threshold: 198BPM.

He went on to explain as he shut the treadmill down that I was one of the highest AT's he's ever seen or tested on a person. "one of the most aerobically in shape people I've met, have fun with that" He called as I was heading for the weights.

So.... uh.... I guess I'm in OK shape overall, the really high stats balance the really not so good stats.

Feelings From the Past

I got back from Tahoe and a lot of fun skiing. (I'll save that for another post) Maybe thats what I needed but I am actually feeling pretty good right about now. My guild respects me as one of their top damage dealers in raids (yes, I am a massive WoW playing dork, and yes, Ret Paladins are most certainly raid-viable), I have joined Lifetime Fitness, and things are looking up. I feel...I feel again. I can almost let my heart get caught up in things again.

My friend Mike is back in town and I'm pretty stoked. He's been gone for nearly 3 years in Hawaii. Truth be told, I missed having him around, we think alike on a lot of stuff. He's gotten himself a 93 RX7, and thats promised to be a lot of fun to work on if I get the chance.

I hung out with the old crew last night, we went out for some drinks, caught up a bit, got harassed by the bike mounted popo, the usual stuff.

Lifetime Fitness is great, but I would never dream of paying their exorbitant fees were it not for my Dad helping out on the fee. Me, Irene, and Dad have started training for an upcoming triathlon, which is why hes helping with the fitness fees. Its just a sprint (.5 mile swim, 20k or so bike and 5k run at the end) but it should prove to be a blast. The only thing thats really got me biting my fingernails is the swim. I am a good runner, and by extension I cant be a bad biker. I am not familiar (at all) with long distance swimming. I am actually a very good swimmer, I just never have done any kind of distance swimming, and getting my movements in the water fine tuned is something that I've been working on. Swimming is HARD. 45 minutes of stop and go swimming (doing sprints in the pool, just figuring out what my pace should be for the .5 mile) Got me more tired than a 1.5 hour run. I feel that I'm being very wasteful with my movements and I'm contemplating talking with someone who knows a lot about competitive swimming and asking for some pointers. Getting in shape feels good too, I've been disgusted looking in the mirror as of late, WoW and beer have caught up with me. I'm eating (for the most part) much healthier as well. In joining Lifetime I got a free "body age assessment" and one hour with a personal trainer. Expect the results of that to be posted soon. I get to find out my VO2, body fat %, and go through a gamut of strength and flexibility tests. I'm actually kind of excited.

All this good stuff. Oh, and my car is the biggest piece of crap I've ever seen or driven. Right now I think my water pump is bad, and is leaking a large amount of water as I drive (and while it sits, to a lesser degree) the best part is what leaks out. Its like sludge. I think that somewhere along the line my sister may have mixed the orange and green coolants. Its like sludge-rust coming out and its staining the concrete where I drive and where I park. Also, the hood doesnt pop correctly due to Kalie rear-ending someone and me (instead of taking it to some professionals) bent the hood back down and latched it on with a come-along. The latch sucks to take off every time I need to add water. I'm starting to think that going to Tahoe wasn't the brightest idea, maybe I should have picked up that 240sx with a CA18 I was looking at.

Oh well. You're only young once, and I am going back to college next semester, making me much less likely to afford any ski trips. (or anything but ramen, really)

I get to pay taxes, rent and bills, then I go into super-save mode. My goal is to have a nice, well running 240sx by the time I go back to college. Maybe I can work out with Alex some way to work part-time while I go to school...we'll see how that all pans out, but I really want to have some decent suspension under it before college as well.

I got a facebook. Meh.

Read your bibles.

Life? what life?

Epic problems bounce off me like bullets off Superman.

Since mid-Friday, I've been working on a seemingly simple issue for work (of course not on the sabbath) the details of which are too drab and boring to get into here. I guess my question to the internet is this; Do normal people let stuff like this get them down? I've known some people who put a lot of themselves into their work and identify themselves through it. I can't say that I'll ever do the same. With problems like these cropping up every week, and my only action in them is to say "I don't have a clue as to what you are talking about" (making me feel utterly useless by the way) I would be a madman if I identified myself by simply being the medium which true tech support goes through. While the simple problems no longer give me too much issue, I still cannot diagnose and solve any real problem. So in the end, I really don't let it get me down.
Is that a good thing? It certainly doesn't make me feel good to hardly know what I'm doing on a day to day basis, and though I'm learning, I get no satisfaction out of it either. It seems that for the past months working this IT job I have just stopped fully feeling anything.
Maybe thats why I stoically let my most recent relationship fail. Maybe thats why I don't really put myself in my own prayers anymore.

Like every time in my life before this when I notice fruitlessness, I'm going to have to make a major change. Going back to college is something I've thought about for about a year now. It looks like Radiology is just way too long of a hike for me, so I'll be going (God willing) to UTD to get a Geology degree. Maybe there I'll get a sense of direction. Maybe its green enough grass over there to keep me satisfied.
I've thought of why I do this so frequently, from High school to college, to the Air Force, to college again, to a semester off working 3 jobs, to full time college again, to quitting the military, to community college, to working various places for a year, to now. I think I need the change. I've grown up around change: My parents moved from place to place never staying longer than 3 years in my childhood, due to my Father's military career, they then got divorced when I was 13 and I finally stayed somewhere. Here in Texas. From there my Father got re-married, divorced, re-married again, and settled down, here in Texas. The change didn't stop there, I went from being a dorky introverted out of shape kid to a dorky extroverted runner. I went from knowing nothing of cars to loving all things dealing with nuts and bolts, trying to understand the world through physics and mechanics. I went on to make the biggest change in my life by coming into the Church, and the Truth. Changing almost everything I did in life, from the way I talked to the way I thought about God.
Change change change.
Now that I'm in a sort of lull in life, and I've done the same thing for roughly a year, (while still managing to change myself into a computer-nerd) I've gotten antsy.

I don't know why I'm writing this, all I know is it feels good to get it out. Off my chest.
I don't think I'm unhappy, in fact just the opposite. I'm just getting kind of restless. Like I don't know what to do with my hands in front of an audience, or like I've been on a bus taking me somewhere I didn't even want to go, and my butt just fell asleep.

I just realized that the next semester that I could sign up for doesn't start until after summer.
And I don't feel a thing.