Did it work?

Only 5 days of graduate school left.

Still breathing.

Still kicking.

Still counting . . . down.

I’m fairly certain the few get the unfortunate chance of capturing that exact moment in their life when things change.  To extend the metaphor to the absurd imagine a traffic control camera snapping a picture of you and your car blowing a red light milliseconds before you t-bone a school bus.  That picture which will be automatically sent to you via the Hall 9000 will undoubtedly remind you of the time you tried to get away with something but didn’t.  Similar situation here except I only ran over myself and received the appropriate “I told you so”.

In a nutshell, what is being welded there is a piece of metal that has no business ever being welded as such.  Later forensics certainly illustrated that.  Too bad too since up until this point, that part had been the salvation and testament of my technical abilities. Now it is in the Box of Destruction with the rest of the Suck Fest.

Ahhh, one of the greatest parties in town and I’m always honored to host it.  This years Massey Manor Halloween Bash was nothing short of spectacular.  Record attendance, amazing bands, and no drama (or cops).  Perfect.

First off, a picture of the crew who calls this joint home:

Though pictures seldom do the crowds here justice, this one actually does a good job.  The only people not pictured were those in the front room with the bands.

Looks like the suck sponge has been working overtime these days . . .

I was abstaining from posting until I reached the one megameter (1,000 km) on my bike.  Obviously then I eclipsed that goal today on a four hour ride out to the east coast of the Keweenaw.  Needless to say, I’m absolutely exhausted and about to tip over.  I promise more regular updates now - starting tomorrow.

Don’t worry, I’ll be resurfacing back to public visibility once I return to Michigan at the end of this month.  Until then, I’m back underground taking a bit of a hiatus.

“Pressure waves move through the blood vessels, which are pliable; these waves are not caused by the forward movement of the blood. When the heart contracts, blood is ejected into the aorta and the aorta stretches. At this point the wave of distention (pulse wave) is pronounced but relatively slow-moving (3 to 6 m/s). As it travels towards the peripheral blood vessels, it gradually diminishes and becomes faster. In the large arterial branches, its velocity is 7 to 10 m/s; in the small arteries, it is 15 to 35 m/s. The pressure pulse is transmitted 15 or more times more rapidly than the blood flow.” Source

That goes out to all the people who thought I was a freak because when I lay flat on my back I can feel the blood coursing through my body from my stomach down to the tips of my toes. I’m 100% certain I’m not the only person that can feel this but it is really quite neat since it there is, as the article mentions, a wave emanates from your chest and moves outward. What would really be strange is if I could feel the return pulse in the veins although I’m not sure if that is possible.

Anyway, I’m not sure what brought that on . . .

So Day 2 in LA. Interesting place so far but rumors of LA’s hatred of pedestrians and other non-automotive crowd is certainly true. I don’t have a bike yet but I still wanted to head down to a beach. I’m staying about 5 miles away from the coast but one would think I could catch a bus or something and get down there somewhat quickly. Hahahahah yeah right. There were some options but they all involved multiple transfers and stuff like that. So I just hoofed it. 13.5 miles later I’m back on the couch sipping a much needed Coors Light. Don’t worry mom, I had sunscreen on so i didn’t get burned.

The ocean is just like I remembered it: wet and salty. The closest beach was Playa del Ray which is naturally where I headed. It was very nice but very empty. I was there quite early - around noon on Thursday so I suspect many of the usual patrons are slaving to The Man to get some rent money. I will join them next week.

On my epic pedestrian journey through western LA you can imagine I saw and learned many fascinating things: the underside of large highways is probably smoother than the top side, “The Life Adjustment Center” is a phrase I never want to see stenciled in reverse on a glass door, the only two fisherman fishing from the beach are really just drinking beer and getting high, and finally I learned that Home Depot is an excellent place to hire migrant workers (they wait near the entrance but are friendly enough).

After yesterday’s epic journey I opted to take it a bit easier. Thus far today I’ve only hiked about 4 miles in this urban concrete jungle but the scenery improved. Next door to the place I’m staying is the Hillside Memorial Cemetery. It is a Jewish cemetery that is impossibly green nestled in the heart of a bunch of drab concrete pasta. Even the air smelled clean there so suffice it to say I cut through on my way to really nowhere. Before I entered I tucked in my shirt, not out of respect for the dead, but to avoid scorn from the living - I think the dead are just happy to have visitors, plus they weren’t always wearing their Sunday best either. However, like FedEx for a cemetery I saw a hearse slowly and stoically winding its way up the well manicured roads - time to go before I am forced to perform the kapparot to atone for my sins.

After bidding fair well to the dearly departed, I hike over to Borders to get a book. I figured that I’m going to be reading the Ender’s series by Orson Scott Card, I should at least try to do it somewhat in order. As i get deeper and deeper into my current book by him, it is evident I missed a lot so it is time to backtrack a bit. The balance of the afternoon then will be spent sipping a Beam and coke by the pool reading (ironically enough) Speaker for the Dead.

Goodbye Houghton, I’m leaving you for a desperately needed vacation from myself.  I’ll see you again in August.