I played Magic for the first time in many years tonight, versus my dad.  I won seven out of seven games.  He was... annoyed.

I sort of miss the game; it's still a great game, and I always loved the deckbuilding.  It just takes such a commitment to stay on top of things, and I think I can only really handle one game that requires that kind of focus and mental dedication at a time.  And, at about $14 a month, World of Warcraft isn't really any more expensive than Magic would be, and as difficult as it can be to find a group to play WoW with sometimes, it still must be easier than finding someone in person to play Magic with.

Labels: games

One indulgence that I allow myself precisely two times a year is frozen yogurt. I used to get it a lot as a kid, but these days it's just whenever I'm in the Denver airport, as inevitably the path from my Seattle gate to the Lincoln or Omaha gate will go right by TCBY. Occasionally I try something different, but every time I do I’m very disappointed that I didn't just go for my decades-long favorite, plain vanilla yogurt with gummy bears on top.

And it is delicious.

Labels: random

Well, I'm off for a week with the family in Nebraska. Should be interesting. And hot—oh so hot. But at least air conditioning is standard in every house in Nebraska. It never even occurred to me before I moved to the Seattle area that this was not the case everywhere. Every year it gets hot in the summer, and every year everyone seems very surprised that it's hot that summer.

I haven't been back in a year and a half now, and I'm fairly certain that Mom's going crazy with anticipation. (That's a lot of pressure, you know—the quality of this visit is the lynchpin of my mother's sanity.) If you recall, I had planned to return for Christmas last year but was stuck in Redmond due to a snowstorm. I chose a replacement flight over the July 4 weekend because I particularly miss setting off explosive and incendiary devices* in honor of our great nation's birth, and for the most part, fireworks are not legal here.

(* I am typing this post in the airport. Hopefully they do not read this post at the TSA security checkpoint.)

The Fourth was always one of my favorite holidays. Sure, fireworks are fun, but I think that there's more to it than that. It's a holiday that, in Lincoln at least, practically demands that the family get together for a collective fun activity: blowing things up. Everyone can participate if they want.

In contrast, Christmas is more about the gifts and the meal and spending time with long-lost relatives. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's an event designed around family togetherness. The Fourth of July brings family togetherness as sort of a bonus, but the real focus is on hot, bright, and shiny things that burn your hands. It's a collaborative amusement that you can't have any other time of the year. I think that those two aspects—the group activity part and the time restriction part—are what make the Fourth so special to me.

Or maybe I just like fire more than I'm willing to let on. Either way, tomorrow I get to "light my money on fire" as my skeptical mother always says, and it's been half a decade since the last time I did. I can't wait.

As a kid, my sources of income were quite limited, given that but I'd still manage to save up for months and months and have fifty bucks or so to spend on fireworks. My grandfather would usually chip in a twenty for each of my brother and me, which was always a really big deal. We'd budget things out and make sure that we got exactly what we wanted. The Fourth only came once a year, and there was no money to waste (unless you're like my mom and any money spent on fireworks is a waste).

The Fourth is one of my dad's favorite holidays too. I decided that a perfect Father's Day gift for him would be a fireworks shopping spree. Admittedly, it sounds more like I just forgot to get him something and I'm pulling something out of my butt a couple of weeks late, but in reality (I swear) I hand-picked this gift after weeks of thought, and I was sure to tell him that his present was coming with me this time. Hopefully he'll enjoy lighting someone else's money on fire just as much as his own.

Labels: random

In the gym locker room this morning they were playing an elevator music version of Can You Feel the Love Tonight? from The Lion King.  Or, rather, a perhaps-unlicensed cover—the rhythm was spot-on, but the tune wasn't right.  There were enough subtle differences that they didn't seem like mistakes or artistic license, but it was close enough that I thought at first that maybe I just didn't quite remember the original tune.  But once it got to the "wide-eyed wanderer" line (of course, it was instrumental) I was certain that it was just a bad cover.

It reminded me of something I was talking with Jason about recently: I get really annoyed when I remember song lyrics incorrectly, especially when my head's version is notably different from the real thing. Worse, rather than correct myself on future listenings, I tend to just reinforce my incorrect lyrics with every subsequent hearing.  The best example of this that comes to mind is from Somewhere Only We Know by Keane.  There's a line "...sat by the river and it made me complete" that I sing every time as "...sat by the river and admitted defeat."  My version is just about the opposite of the correct lyrics, and I know I'm wrong, and I try to sing them correctly, but despite my efforts, I get it wrong constantly, and I'm not really improving.  It's frustrating.  (I have a playlist of songs for which I want to learn the lyrics and be able to sing along, and that one is on it.  It's my driving/Segwaying playlist.)

Labels: music

Having a pending trip is a really good excuse to ignore bathrooms and kitchens and carpets in need of cleaning.  I mean, they're not going to get any better while I'm away; I might as well just let another week's worth of dust build up first...

Labels: house

Two nights ago, I dreamed that I was walking by a house in an expensive-looking neighborhood, and one man out of many people in uniform who were standing in front of the house came up to me and asked if I was Travis.  I said I was, and he somberly told me that he was sorry, but Jason was dead.  He had been shot, and was the tenth person that day to have been killed by an unknown attacker.  My first reaction was disbelief, possibly partially because I had no idea why Jason would have been at this house that I'd never seen before.  As it all started to sink in, another one of the people standing in front of the house yelled something unintelligible to the man talking to me.  He then apologized and explained that he meant to say that James was dead, not Jason.  Did I know a James?

I think the man talking to me may have been based on the doctor from Arrested Development.  I don't remember what he looked like, but I was thinking about that character the day before.  (It's not the same joke, as the doctor in that show always gives factually accurate but misleading information, whereas this was simply wrong.)

As it turns out, even in a dream, hearing that someone you care about is dead only to find out seconds later that they are not is very upsetting.

Labels: dreams

Last night I had the lamest nightmare ever.  I was tracking a package on FedEx.com and saw in bold red letters "NOT DELIVERED - SIGNATURE REQUIRED."  At the sight of this I became immediately severely distraught.  For some reason or another, my package not being delivered on time was absolutely soul-crushing.  Luckily, the dream ended after fifteen seconds or so of utter despair.

(Usually I'm just really pissed off.)

Labels: dreams

Every time I give my email address to a company I give them a unique one so that if I ever get spam because of them, I can know exactly who's responsible, and if necessary I can block that specific address without harming my ability to get mail from other people. (I have my own email server, but you can easily do this with Gmail... at least, until the spammers catch on and look for plus signs in email addresses.) As it turns out, I very rarely get spam from any companies that I've given my email address. I can only remember one company that has ever sold my address in more than half a decade: Uproar.com, a casual games site. That is, until the past few days.

I got spam from an address I've only ever given to S&K Menswear before. I ordered my coat from them nearly five years ago, and I just started getting spam to that address this month. That is some very stale spam. As it turns out, the company has gone bankrupt. Apparently a good way to make money when you go bankrupt is to sell your customer database.

Labels: random

I haven't been posting much recently. I've gotten a few requests to post on some more interesting, controversial, thought-provoking topics. This, I'm afraid, is not that.

I worked at the Burger King in the university student union during my junior year in high school. During that year is when I first started growing facial hair. It came in pretty evenly, but rather blonde and fuzzy compared to what my hair looks like today. One evening, a week or two after it had started coming in, the manager on duty was my favorite one—the one I could have conversations with about technology and games and things relevant to my interests (he helped me decide on my first domain name, in fact). He walked by me, and said roughly the following to me:

Manager: Travis, tonight when you go home, I want you to shave your beard fuzz.
Me: What?
Manager: You just should.
Me: Why's that?
Manager: We're all excited for you. You have your first facial hair. You've proven that you can grow facial hair. Hooray! But it looks terrible, and if you shave it off it will grow back faster and look better. Don't worry, you'll get more. Get your dad to show you how.

I was really embarrassed for a moment, not because he was intending to embarrass or annoy me, or because he told me this around the other employees, but because he was completely right and I hadn't even realized it for myself yet. I was avoiding shaving simply because I wanted people to notice that I was all manly and stuff.

(Historical note: I didn't make facial hair a standard part of my appearance until a couple years ago or less.)

Labels: travis

After my morning workouts I basically always get a protein shake at the club's bistro.  I get one with strawberry powder, strawberries, and peanut butter.  It ends up being rather tasty.  The price of one of these shakes is a fairly disturbing $6.60.  However, I provide my own protein powder, so they only charge me half price.  The packets of powder are available a few feet down the hall for $2.00.  By buying the packet in one location and taking it to another location I save $1.30 per shake.

It makes me wonder if this business model is intentional, or the pricing just wasn't thought through very well.  It's possible that this works so that people who are price-conscious can get a shake for a slightly more reasonable $5.30, but the majority of people won't be willing to go to the effort (or even find out that such a deal is available), so most people will still give them $6.60.  Or, maybe 50% off is a really easy thing for their system to do and they don't care or realize that there's a price discrepancy.

Labels: random