The quick saga of a car:

Quite some time ago, my check engine light came on. I didn't care. I'm a bad car owner.

My registration lasts until the end of the month, and to renew it I need to pass an emissions test. With a car as new as mine (2001 Galant), they connect to the computer and reject the results entirely if that light is on.

Legally, I need to do this. Personally, I don't really care. I just don't want to deal with the consequences of not doing it.

So I took it to the shop and they did the scan to find out which of the myriad reasons that light could be on is making it so. There's some valve not doing what it's supposed to. The shop originally tested the valve and it seemed fine, so they replaced the stuff that controlled it.

The light was back on before I got home.

They decided they needed to replace the valve itself, but those parts (like the ones before) had to come from Mitsubishi, and the nearest dealership is in Clarksville. Also, the dealership hired a new driver who kept getting lost, so they didn't receive the valve when they should've.

Today they replaced the valve and the light stayed on. They got Mitsubishi technical support on the phone and went through everything. Turns out it's probably the computer that's bad. If I want that fixed, it'll be around $2,000.

My friend can have his car start smoking while in line to be tested and pass because they only check what's coming out of the tail pipe, but at this point mine could be emitting pure oxygen and it wouldn't matter.

It's a fucking racket.

On the drive home today, I passed a vehicle that confused me. It was a van with a sign that read "WIDE LOAD", flashing lights and a huge antenna or pole of sorts on top, and a logo for something like "Highway Escorts".

That's not the weird part. The weird part is it was by itself, not actually escorting anything. I kept looking for half a house or something, but there was nothing to be found.

This was my first out-of-town workshop weekend, having a great time and learning some good things at the Atlanta Varsity Showdown. They really went with the whole school theme, including renting a couple of busses to take us from classes at Georgia Tech to lunch at the CNN Center (and admonishing us not to miss the return trip).

The organization was a little odd. It was mostly two tracks of classes — beginner/intermediate and intermediate/advanced — and registration asked you to place yourself as beginner, intermediate, or advanced. We went with intermediate and went to all the intermediate/advanced classes, and that worked out fairly well.

Beth and I both signed up for the Jack & Jill; it's about time, and people are trying to get us out there. That was split into two levels as well, and maybe it was somewhat unfair that we were in the beginner/intermediate level, but we've been dancing for 8 months and knew we'd be creamed going up against the advanced crowd. Long story short, Beth and her lead came in second place, and me and my follow came in first, which meant we (as the first place winners) got our money back. And in a completely unexpected twist, Beth's lead and my follow were married — mixed doubles swing dancing competition winners!

A question/concern:

What disgusting and vile substance is generated and exuded by my body and has resulted in some of my undershirts having brownish underarm stains?

I just had one hell of a birthday weekend. Apparently some local dancers wanted to make a big thing out of it and throw a competition in my honor. The least they could have done is let my team win.

Or place.

Or even show.

Anyway, the point was to have a good time, and I had a blast. Dancing, socializing, meeting new people, learning new things (like the Big Apple), learning from new people, finding another dancer with my same birthday.

It was also very hectic and tiring. Crowded living quarters, no time for good food or sleep, sore all over and tired as hell.

And when I finally came back to my phone, I had ten missed calls and five messages. Seems I need to talk to some people tomorrow.

On Saturday, someone drew large cartoon penises in the intersection outside my home. Since then, they've been covered over and replaced with drawn hearts. The thing is, I thought the penises were drawn in chalk, but apparently they were painted on because they weren't just washed off. Instead, they were painted over so instead of the penises being white, they are now black. Now, a faded asphalt backdrop makes a black design harder to see than a white one, but c'mon.

Apparently, 8th Avenue in downtown Nashville has been renamed Rosa L. Parks Boulevard. I only discovered this because the street signs have been replaced. That was a bit of a surprise when coming in to work this morning.

On the drive to work today, I spied my first Washington, D.C. license plate. At the bottom of the plate, where a state motto or slogan might be found, were the words "TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION".

Does that seem odd at all? It certainly did to me. I thought that was the entire problem that resulted in this being a country instead of a colony. It doesn't seem like the sort of thing to brag about.

Or maybe the word "NO" was there, but covered up or otherwise obscured.

I knew Reuel was going to be in Memphis for his blues workshop this weekend, so I thought it'd be amusing to give him a call as we drove through. He was apparently too busy to answer the phone, but we weren't too far into Arkansas when he called back. Since we hadn't been around to check e-mail when he sent it out, he offered to give us the news over the phone: Beth and I made one of the teams. We're going to be working our butts off between now (well, when we get back) and the end of September. It's going to be great.

If I wanted to downplay it all, I could point out it looks like everyone who tried out made a team, since Nashville was going to form two teams and the showing was pretty paltry. That doesn't matter, though. What matters is this is going to be great.

There's a sort of potluck thing going on today at work, and someone brought orange juice and chocolate milk. My first thought was that I'd make a "Brown Julius", but that doesn't work because the "Orange" in the name comes from the juice, not the milk. Another coworker suggested "Orange Caligula", but then said that should probably be saved for an alcoholic beverage. When I told this story to mendel, he suggested "Orange Dr. Julius""Orange Dr. J" (he insists), which is excellent (and obvious in hindsight).

It tastes about as good as it sounds.

There's a church Beth and I pass pretty often, considering it's between home and the dance studio. Right now it has a sign reading "PLAN AHEAD! IT WASN'T RAINING WHEN NOAH BUILT THE ARK." and that just annoys me. It annoys me because it wasn't so much that Noah considered the future and thought building the ark was a good idea, but more that God specifically told him to.

Maybe "listening to God" counts as "planning ahead" for Christians.

Never before have I left a dance session with my shirt as soaked as it was today. On the other hand, never before have I tried out for a performance team. I felt somewhat out of it, especially after some of the faster stuff, but when I mentioned it to Reuel later, he said I had good energy, good lines, and good fundamentals.

It feels good that people say we should do this. We've only been at it for six months now, and these people think we're good (or at least that we have potential).

So I recently finally climbed with ropes, and it was okay. It was fun, really. At the least, it was a different experience, and that's always interesting. One of the guys who works at the climbing gym, T.K., mentioned that I should also learn lead climbing.

I've been hearing this a lot lately. People keep saying I should do more, go out on real rock, play with ropes, &c &c.

Well, there aren't dance classes this week and the guy who gives lessons doesn't do it on weekends, so this was as good a time as any, at least if I didn't want to wait until August.

Now, talk about a different experience. It was fun, challenging, sometimes frustrating, and at times a bit scary. Bouldering will always be my first and true climbing love, but this was something. Even if other things start to interest me more, at least bouldering won't require other people and somewhere around $200 worth of equipment.

Before today, I never thought I would thank someone for giving me a wedgie. Top roping/belaying with Reuel changed all that.

That is all.

For some reason, I was with a group that was meeting with 37signals, but the meetings weren't what I would've expected. We met in boardrooms, seated at separate long tables. Their head would get up and talk to us while slowly pacing the room. He was wearing a shirt with something printed on it in Hebrew, but I can't remember what it was now. Things seemed tense.

The meetings went on for a while.

Finally, we had a big, important meeting. It followed the same general format. I noticed that more people were wearing Hebrew shirts this time, and he had a cane now. He seemed disappointed.

One person from each side was escorted from the room.

That's when the weapons came out. Suddenly, everyone was holding a knife or worse, and I realized I must've missed something really important. I was about to dive under the table when something occurred to me. My last thought before waking was "I should find DHH right now."

I work in the sort of neighborhood where people shout out into the street while waiting at bus stops, where a pizzeria will shut its doors and scrawl a message on the doors explaining "WE MOVD TO 281 CLARKSVILL PIK", where there's a business named "MO' MONEY TAXE$", and where a man will walk down the street pushing an empty baby stroller.

That is all.

Poll #987511 Opinion Poll #6
Open to: All, results viewable to: All

This has been one of the most tiring weekends of my life, and I didn't even do that much other than sit and attempt to sleep. Long story short, Sis is married now and I served an important purpose by holding a stick.

Other than that, sniffles and I hate travel.

FIRST POST!

From my brand-new MACBOOK PRO!

Corso is not completely unloved. I'll keep it around, left as-is for at least a little while. I'm sure soon enough it'll be wiped clean and I'll put Linux on it. Time to rid myself of XP.

Today is the first day of new work. It's the director's birthday, so I walk in to two cakes (one chocolate, one rum) and a bunch of sausage balls. Another guy brings candy because of post-Easter sales. Everyone is friendly and nice.

Best first day ever.

Of course, this is somewhat soured by how my old (3.5 years now) Thinkpad has been acting up lately and had to be wiped again. That's a good way to lose a weekend and more. This is definitely stepping up my portable computing replacement plans.