Where to start…

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Had the chorus show. It turned out a hell of a lot better than I expected — apparently a lot of guys had been cramming lyrics ‘n’ tunes all day both Friday and Saturday — and the audience was very responsive. The snowstorm kept a lot of people home on Saturday night, though.

We won’t be able to sing with the full chorus for the next show, though we may be able to go with the smaller ensemble. The same interim director will be conducting, though, which should help stabilize a few things.

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Nigel had a flat on the way home from the chorus dress rehearsal! We managed to make it home (it was very late, the streets were slick with rain, and we were very close anyway) and got him in his usual spot that night. Then it snowed 8 inches or so, and things were unpleasant enough that we delayed changing the tire even further. When we finally got to it, we discovered that the tire had multiple large-ish breaches and would therefore need to be completely replaced. At this point, between shop closures and year-end financial obligations, Nigel is going to have to wait at least another week before he gets a new tire. It continues to make me sad.

In the meantime, I’ve been getting rides from Fred or taking the bus or train to work. I haven’t done that regularly since the pre-Nigel days, and I have to admit I sort of missed it a tiny little bit. If I catch the right bus, it takes roughly the same amount of time to get to work; it gives me a chance to unwind afterwards without having to deal with too many idiot drivers; and the University sprang for a Metro pass for me, so the bus/train doesn’t cost me anything. Finally, running for a bus is wonderful exercise — I get lots of cardio, and my motivation is built right in — and at this time of year a morning jog is invigorating.

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As of the day of the chorus’s opening night, though, Fred drives a slick 1997 BMW, in gorgeous condition, with purple leather seats. (It’s a very dark purple, such that it appears black except in direct sunlight.) This is not the first car we were eager to buy, but in retrospect it’s better that we got this one instead: it’s cheaper, it’s in better shape, and unlike the first one that was too insulated for my tastes this one lets the driver feel enough of the road to respond accordingly. As we discovered the night of that snowstorm, though, the new car (named “Klaus”) has rear-wheel drive, and though it does beautifully on virgin snow, when it hits ice it fishtails rather nastily until somebody sits in back.

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Said snowstorm was more wind and fury than actual precipitation. That said, we still got 8 inches. (Actual inches, not gay.com inches. cue that rimshot.) Most fell Saturday evening during the chorus show, so while the roads were so-so on the way to the theater, they were atrocious on the way home. (This is mostly because the city didn’t plow anything until Sunday morning.) The extra-sucky part about our trip home from the theater was that all of our available routes involved some combination of bridges and long uphill grades, which are rough going in any sort of wheeled vehicle. We insisted that Fred’s mother stay the night

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Had finals in both classes, and nailed ‘em both. I kinda sorta broke the curve in the programming class (101%, sorry). Didn’t do quite that well in physio, but I won’t complain about that. (Physio was one of those “lecture four hours straight” sorts of classes, which I actually enjoy in a perverse way. It’s the virtual labs that made me groan in disgust.)

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The departmental holiday party was the night of the programming final, so I didn’t get to stick around. The food looked amazing, though I couldn’t eat much of it (time was short, also the tooth was starting to flare up), and it was refreshing to see everybody there with their spouses and partners et al. and kids. The music was a little interesting, though; one of the postdocs from the dept chair’s lab (who bears a striking resemblance to Justin Timberlake, no fooling) and another postdoc who had once been in our department sang and played guitar. Apparently they switched to karaoke later on, once the booze kicked in, but I’m not sure how I feel about that. Great moment, though, was attempting to explain the Violent Femmes’ “Blister in the Sun” — WHICH THEY ACTUALLY PLAYED AT THE DEPARTMENT HOLIDAY PARTY, this obviously still blows my mind — to those unfamiliar with that song.

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You know about last Wednesday. Swollen cheek, broken tooth, new gay dentist, etc. Been on those meds ever since, and though the antibiotic occasionally gives me a headache (especially in the presence of fly food) I haven’t had any further problems. I can chew again, which is a relief even if I do have to go easy on the left side of my mouth.

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Thanks to the dental condition, we postponed holiday observations until at least after the New Year. Don’t ask me what I got, because I really don’t know yet. We spent both the Solstice weekend and Christmas Day at home, putzing around and watching “Labyrinth“, “Elf“, episodes from season 2.0 of “Battlestar Galactica“, and snippets of “A Christmas Story“. (No vacation time for me yet, so I had to work on Christmas Eve. I did cut out a bit early, though, because nobody was there.)

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Food and geekery posts to follow.

It’s been an eventful day.

Eeeeearly this morning I took Nigel (my beloved Mini) in for service and so that somebody could look at the hatch (one hinge is further out than the other so the latch doesn’t quite align). The dealer warned me ahead of time that they’d probably need to keep it overnight so they’d arrange for a rental.

Now, last time I took him in, I got a nasty-ass Chevy Aveo which I dubbed the “crapmobile”. (Seriously. If you ever want to know why GM is doing poorly, drive one of those for 10 minutes.) I was dreadingexpecting a similar deal as I checked Nigel in…

…so imagine my glee when I glanced at the rep’s screen and saw the blessed word “LOANER”.

w00t. Gotta love loaners.

Substitute Nigel (or, as Fred calls him, Nigel-Wannabe) is a dark blue 2006 Cooper convertible. He’s a nice ride, aside from the near-total lack of visibility in the back when the top is up and the fact that he’s an automatic (eww). I do love driving with the top down — it makes me all giggly — and once I can adjust to the automatic it’s smooth sailing and I look supercool.

My favorite part, though, is the auxiliary cupholder attached to one side of the center console. It has an embossed MINI logo and a printed image of a wine glass with a line through it. As cupholders go, it’s nothing spectacular, but I can’t stop laughing about how they have a “no stemware” icon on there.

So. Quick look over Substitute Nigel to make sure there were no dents/scratches I hadn’t caught; rep hands me the keys; I immediately adjust the seat so I can reach the pedals; I notice lack of clutch; I wince; I get the iPod out and plug in the iTrip; I start the engine; I notice that the iPod screen is completely. blank.

Yeah. the iPod crashed.

It doesn’t respond to any scrollwheel or button input, whether the Hold switch is enabled or disabled and whether AC power is connected or not; and I can no longer see it as a device on either my work PC (running Windows because I don’t get a choice) or this laptop (a Thinkpad T23 running Gentoo because I am hardcore).

I’m researching possible solutions now (take it apart? COOL) but whatever the outcome I am sure glad I made a backup of the contents. The backup wasn’t 100% current, but I won’t get too upset about losing that which might be lost.

And I also have a notable event coming up on Tuesday the 18th, which I will write about after the fact. In the meantime, though, I have lots of Tivo’d goodies to consume.

Well, the pedestrian who was run over died. And it gets worse – it was a 15-year-old student at the Missouri School for the Blind nearby. Stupid St. Louis drivers! THIS IS WHY YOU PAY SOME FRIGGIN’ ATTENTION!

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Sunday’s little shindig at the ballpark was actually kind of cool. Most of the stadium was open to eventgoers, so R* and I ran all over – in the box seats, in the super-nice box seats, on the loge level, in some club seats in the outfield, in the bleachers watching some hot grounds crew boys playing catch, in the dugout (but, alas, not the locker room), and in the pressbox. As we walked we’d go past different players autographing stuff and having their pictures taken with somebody’s kid; we’ve decided that Bo Hart is really cute (although he’d be cuter if he’d shave off that ‘racing stripe’ on his chin), J.D. Drew a lot better-looking than R* expected, and Mike Matheny very handsome (although that pic doesn’t do him justice).

After we’d walked around a bit, and after R* had taken a bajillion pictures, we grabbed some $1 hot dogs (special price, huzzah!) and sodas and found the seats my family had during the 1998 season – Section 228, Row 9, Seats 14 and 15 – where I regaled him with stories of that storied season. (Especially noteworthy was how Ed and I are still pissed at our younger brothers for wanting to leave early after McGwire hit his 62nd home run.)

But the best part of the thingy at the stadium – $2 BEER. Fawkin’ A!

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My workouts were going so well that I decided to alter them! HA! The biggest change so far has been the transition from leg presses to squats, which I started a while back but which are still killing my quads for a good while afterwards. Other developments include preacher curls instead of dumbbell curls, and major abdominal ennui (I have to find something different to do for the midsection).

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On the phone now with a user who can’t seem to comprehend that when I ask about the cable with the clear plastic jack on the end, I’m not talking about a clear plastic cable. And earlier today I had to explain yet again that, when entering trouble tickets, people need to specify which computer is broken (because there are only 6 in that immediate area). d’oh!

On the way home from work yesterday I saw the most ridiculous low rider ever. Folks, please. If you drive a primer-colored ’85 Plymouth Reliant, don’t bother lowering it or putting in the heavy-duty stereo. Save your money and get a better car. No, really. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.

And while I’m thinking about driving, St. Louis drivers would do well to watch their driving on Magnolia Avenue (by Tower Grove Park). I’ve seen 3 different people get pulled over for speeding, and all 3 times the po-po’s have opted to search the car. As Saba told Julio and Tenoch in Y Tu Mamà Tambièn, “Hide your Buddha and drive like a saint.”

OK. So enough of the public-service part of this blog. Tomorrow I don’t have to work! YAY! I think I’ll be going to the Missouri Botanical Gardens, just down the block. It’s supposed to be a gorgeous spring day; should be a very happy time to go. And next week my boss and a co-worker will be out of town, and I’m thiiiiiis close to starting up beta-testing on a few projects, and my workouts are getting productive, and there’s beer around the house. Life is goooood.

Yesterday and today were rather mundane at work. I finished up that ACH draft, tweaked some code, and dealt with relatively minor issues.

During my leg/midsection workout yesterday I started increasing weight; today, I maxed out reps on the upper-body stuff, so weight increase comes Tuesday. Eventually I’d like to get back to my pre-India performances, but I recognize that that’s going to take some time.

Finally got my older brother’s birthday present (a navy blue hoodie that says “LEMAY” in silvery-gray letters). He’s all excited now; maybe I can wrangle a hoodie of my own out of him…

Made my court appearance for my speeding ticket. I got there early – bench warrants usually make great motivators – and watched the people in front of me. What a bunch of whiners! “Oh, Your Honor, please go easy on me. I know I was driving without a license or insurance or plates but the police officer was mean and pulled me over and I have a sick puppy at home and a fine here would make him sad” etc. When it was my turn, I got all minimalist; it was over in 2 minutes, and it only cost me $150 (ouch).

Tomorrow I’m going to the St. Patrick’s Day parade; my youngest brother’s high school marching band is playing, and my appearance tomorrow fulfills my “But he came to all YOUR stuff” obligation for a while. Afterwards, no big plans, although I’m open to them if anyone would like to suggest any…