And so another year closes to an end. With it comes the usual wrap-ups and so longs and farewells and so here's mine. Now, the crazy thing about this year is that I can acutally say it was a good year. Which I hardly ever say because it's been awhile since it was a good year and because I'm afraid that saying something was a good year will lead to horrible, horrible things.

We shall see.

Other than a few detours here or there, everything was good. Occasionally great and somtimes completely blah, but still kind of good. And a lot of things happened in it: went to Austria & Germany, got written up in the Examiner, got a raise, won fantasy football, reconnected with some old friends, discovered I loved playing volleyball. But actually, as I look back at the past year, the coolest thing that happened was my getting the foul ball at the Phillies game.

I know, weird, huh.

See the thing is that while all the rest of it was cool, it was all things I had some level of control over and something I worked for. Going to Europe, for instance, was a matter of waiting on friends to make their plans and then pressing a few buttons on a computer et viola. Getting the foul ball was the one completely random, totally cool thing to happen.

Which is why it was so cool.

That and the fact it took me about 36 years of my life to get one of those suckers and I know plenty of people who've been to more games and lived more years than I have without getting one.

And the verdict on the video iPod? While it's really cool and all (and I mean really cool), there's definite problems. I downloaded the first episode of "Lost," which I've never seen before and watched it on my way home from work on Tuesday. Now, did I mention the fact that being able to watch "Lost" on an hour long commute is really cool? But not great. The pictures is great and the sound superb, but it's hard to get really into it when you occasionally hear an anouncement on the PA about stops. Or keep everything steady while the bus is jostling or slamming on the breaks. And it's hard to pay attention when the screen is so small that you're also aware of other riders or traffic or anything going on around you. Which means don't expect to be emotionally blown away by anything you're watching.

But did I mention how cool it is to be watching "Lost" on the BART ride home?

PS- the best part about burning CDs onto your hard-drive to put onto your iPod is that you can totally delete all the songs you don't like so it's basically a better version of the CD. As much as I love the Pumpkins' "Melon Collie...", there's way too many songs on there. Goodbye Billy's experimental electronic crap. And there's a few filler songs on U2's "All That You Can't Leave Behind" (pretty much everything that would make up the second side if it was an LP). Goodbye filler. And all those Beatles discs? Sayonora cutesy Paul tunes.

And we move onto Sunday...

Go try and see Narnia in the middle of the afternoon, but it's sold out. So I basically just went downtown and back for nothing. That's okay, I got plenty of stuff to do at home, like play with the new toy. Evening comes and I sit down to watch a DVD that I rented the night before (Dig).

It doesn't work.

But wait, have no fear! I have TiVo and there's the second part of the documentary on the Crusades that the History Channel showed that I haven't watched yet. I accidently deleted it. No documentary. Oh well, but I have English version of "The Office" on. It's a bunch of repeats I've already seen a bunch of times (the BBC pretty much shows the same four episodes whenever they do show it).

Now what? No DVD, no TiVO and there's nothing on TV. Plus, it's Christmas night so it's not like I can quickly go out and get a new DVD. I could read a book, but that's just so boring and un-festive. What to do? What to do? It looks like your humble narrator is stuck.

But wait! There's On Demand. So I watch Rushmore. Isn't the 21st Century wonderful?

Then I get a call from a friend at 11:30 at night, the one who was supposed to call me to let me know about some kicking Hannukah party but didn't. Instead, she called after the kicking Hannukah party was over to see if I was doing anything.

You know how iTunes has the Tripometer where you press a button and instant light show on your desktop? The geniuses at Apple have made there so good right now that it's too good. When I put it on, it's completely distracting because it's so colorful and pretty and so all I want to do is watch it and watch it and watch it and I'm having all sorts of flashbacks to laser light shows and incense and the time I constructed an entire 3D video in my head while listening to U2's "Bad." And the thing is I'm realizing that it's probably not constructive to put on the Dead Lights because it completely sucks me in, but it's just so gosh darn pretty to watch.

I'm also noticing that because the new Powerbook has one of those Think Pads (I think that's what they call it) instead of a mouse, I'm no longer getting carpal tunnel from using the mouse. Instead, I'm getting callouses on my thumb from manipulating the pad.

And on this, Christmas Eve of the year 2005, a 37 year old Jewish man discovered the true meaning of Christmas-- he won his fantasy football league. Say hello to $2000 of his new friends.

He also picked up his brand new laptop and purchased his first cd on iTunes too. But wait! That's not all! The icing on the cake was this-- "Wrath of Kahn" was on TV.

I love Christmas.

-You know my new credit card company, the one that seems to go out of it's way to make it so I can't pay? Today I went to go pay it and logged onto the Web site. I got in this time, but I was unable to pay the bill because it said it was due to some "credit problem." So I called up and got Najimbi in Bangladesh who knew nothing about my "credit problem" and said she'd help me pay my bill. Which led to a hilarious exchange like this:

Me:"My checking number is 6573 4432"
Najimibi: that's 6572 44332."
Me: "No, 6573 4432."
Najimibi: "6572 4432?"
Me: "No, (really slow) 6573 4432."
Najimbi: "Okay, 6573 4432?"
Me: "Yes, that's it."
Najimibi: "Okay, just to confirm, then, your checking number is 6572 44332?"

They still haven't sent me a new card yet and while I should really get on them for it, I'm kind of okay with not having the card only because if I got the card, I'd use it. And that's the last thing I do. The company sucks so hard I'm that much more motivated to pay off the card just so I can tell them to f off.

-When I leave for work, I usually grab fitty cents for the paper and some additional loose change in case I need it. On Monday, I was in a rush and couldn't find more than two quarters so headed out the door thinking I wouldn't need the loose change because I never really need it.

You know where this is going, right?

Get off BART and Millbrae only to discover that I'm five cents short of the full BART ticket. Which means I can't get out of the station and have to use the machine to pay the five cents. No problem, right, because I can use my ATM card. Except the amount is so small it won't let me. Another no problem, right, because I should have some change on me. Nope. Not only did I not have spare change on me, which I usually do and never need, I can't even find any in my backpack. Euros, yes. Nickels, no.

So I had to ask the guy at the station to let me through and he gave me the nickel to get through. Have to give the guy a tip of the hat for being so nice about it.

-Having a conversation with my kind of boss and another coworker about seeing the dentist and how much we all hate to see the dentist. She tells a story about how she went for an appointment and walked out with four teeth pulled and three years of braces. So I said in response, half joking, "that's why I never go to the dentist." Her reply? "Well, that's why....no comment."

How can you say that and then stop? Now I'm totally paranoid that something's wrong with my teeth.

Actually, I'm kind of glad she didn't say anything because that would make me even more neurotic. "Oh no, I can never open up my mouth because everyone will see I have yellow teeth." Or "Always remember to cover my mouth when talking so people can't see how crooked my teeth are.

Every once in awhile, I like to check on my friends at the Nation Review Corner online to see what the right's take on the world is. So today I logged on to see what they had to say about the news that Bush just went off and ruled that people can be spied upon without any sort of legal niceties, something I have a hunch just might be against every precept of American constitutionality. And there reaction? They're more outraged that somebody leaked it and that there are no calls for an investigation. Not only that, it's the height of hypocrisy that we're making all this kerfluffle over the outing of Valerie Plame and not the outing of illegal torture cells in Europe or illegal wire tapping.

It's a matter of national security, of course.

At this point, one has to wonder what the reaction would be if it's ever leaked that Cheney and Rumsfield themselves went to Gitmo and sodomized terror suspects in an effort to get them to talk. Would they finally acknowledge the wrongness of it? Would it be just a central question of there being ass-fucking involved? Or would they be more outraged that the story is leaked than of the ass-fucking?

I also noticed that somehow, the Culture Wars have ensnared "King Kong" as everyone is rooting for Kong to fail and for Narnia to shake the Box Office moneymaker this holiday season. The reason is because Kong is a godless, secular, Hollywood flick that makes the military out to be the bad guys (they kill Kong, after all). "Narnia" is, of course, a good wholesome, Christian flick because it's supposed Christ-y ness.

Now, first of all, does everything have to be sucked into the blender of the Culture Wars? And second of all, while I haven't seen "Narnia," I'm pretty much sure Kong is better movie. Ferocious dinosaurs and giant apes on top of tall buildings is always more cooler than talking Beavers.

But mainly, is "The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe" that big of a Christ allegory? Yeah, Aslan sacrifices himself to save people, then gets resurrected. That's Christ-like, but it's not exactly like He's cornered the market on sacrifice/resurrection stories. If that makes the movie "Christian" then you can say the same about Buffy. She sacrificed herself, she died, she came back to life. Hell, so did Obi Wan Kenobi for that matter.

If just that makes the Christians get all wet and spend tons of money to they can stare at the God-head, then sign me up-- I wanna write a movie in which somebody sacrifices himself and comes back to life. Then I'll market it to all the churches, make tons of money, and blow it all on hookers & blow.

So on the other site, I went after a SF blogger for writing something a little on the anti-semitic side. Yay me. But on the other hand, it's been a little stressful. Nothing like calling someone an anti-semite in a place people read to make you a little nervous-- it's not exactly the nicest thing to say about someone and it's something that gets thrown around way too much.

I was a little worried about the reaction but then also kind of hopeful that all those who support Truth, Justice, and the American Way would rally to the cause and help fight the good fight. And so far? Most of the comments support the anti-semitic stuff.

Stupid SF progessives.

And just for the record- I think I speak for Jews everywhere when I say we're really sorry that somehow we became too succesful here in America and have lost "oppressed minority" status and have now become, the Man. And we're sorry that the numbers of people who died in the Holocaust weren't as high as other minorities who got killed over the years.

In the future, we'll go back to our little ghettos, wear our silly little hats, and beg for mercy when the cossacks come. My great grandparents didn't flee from Russia to be hated on by a bunch of trust fund hippies still rebelling from their upper middle class privilged background.

It's so easy to hold up signs at protest rallies attacking "racism" isn't it? Not so easy to actually confront the one who's saying it, now is it?

This was my Friday morning....

I'm going through another bout of insomnia so I hadn't slept for much of the week. Thursday night I was able to pass out early, thanks to half a bottle of wine, and found myself waking up at what I thought was a reasonable hour. Turns out it was three in the morning. Not a reasonable hour.

So I tossed and turned til the alarm went off and tossed and turned some more, finally getting into the shower a little later than I like to. Since I was so tired (not to mention a little hung over), I did the thing in the shower where you just stand there, zoning out, and letting the water wash all over me. This meant I got out of the shower way late. So late I didn't have time to make breakfast. Or pack for a possible trip to San Jose that night. So late that I didn't even have time to brush my teeth and instead, brought my toothbrush and toothpaste with me to work.

I did, however, have time to shave that morning, which is another reason why I was late. Because as what usually happens when you're late and half asleep, I cut myself in the spot I always cut myself and caused a full-on gusher. That meant wasting time trying to get the thing to stop bleeding.

I made it to BART just as BART pulled into the station and so I made that by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin. Everything was cool up until I hit the airport, the second to last stop on the BART part of my commute. Right in the middle of the tunnel that takes you to the airport, the train just stopped. We waited there for a few minutes when the driver got on the PA and announced that somebody at BART HQ accidentally pressed the wrong button and made it so this BART was supposed to be heading in the complete opposite direction. This meant he had to switch sides, back us up for a bit, then wait until everything is fixed.

We backed, something that took a lot less time than the driver thought it would take. It was, however, just enough time to make sure that I would miss my SAMTrans connection and so would have to take CalTrains. Which meant I had to wait that much longer for my coffee, my breakfast, and my teeth-brushing.

It was at this particular point that I started bleeding again.

We pull into Millbrae and just as I go to the CalTrain section, I see that Caltrain had pulled into the station. I went to get a ticket so I wouldn’t get in trouble in case they came by and checked tickets (which had happened to me years ago when I applied for the job) but the ticket machine wouldn’t accept my dollar bills. So I had a choice- wait for another fifteen minutes or risk a possible ticket if they actually got around to checking.

I risked it, hoping that the karma achieved in putting up with all the crap I had put up with so far this morning would bail me out.

Needless to say, it didn’t. As soon as I sat down in my seat, some meathead of a failed cop came down the aisle checking tickets. In my head, I was all prepared to unleash the full venom of how I was feeling, being a little hungry, a little sleep deprived, and a little pissed off about all this. Just as he was about to get to me, though, some Chinese guy who hadn’t sat yet went up to him and started asking him a question about tickets. The Chinese guy barely spoke English and so the conversation between him and the meathead conductor went on for a stop and by the time it was concluded, the conductor had gotten so frazzled by the whole thing, he forgot to check my ticket and moved on.

I was safe. Or, at least safe for now.

Be cool, be cool, I said to myself and did. I kept my eyes to the paper and never looked up as he spent the next ten or so minutes going up and down the train. At one stop, he even kicked somebody off the train for not having a ticket, but for whatever reason, he never said anything to me. Karma? The fact I looked either too cool? Or too pissed and had a noticeable cut below my lip that was bleeding?

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and decided not to risk it anymore so I got off at the stop before the stop where the shuttle comes to pick people up and take them to Super Mondo, I got off. The stop is actually closer to SMC but because it’s a smaller stop, they don’t have shuttles to take you to work. It’s only a fifteen minute walk to work from there and I thought besides the fact it would ensure me from getting ticketed, I could get some coffee and the wind and cold could finally stop my bleeding shaving cut which I was going so profusely I was out of kleenex.

So I walked to work, coffee in hand, kleenex glued to my face as I was bleeding all over the place. The good thing is that despite it all, I wasn’t that late to work. And all in all, it wasn’t half bad of a walk. But as I was walking to work, I started thinking, boy, I really hope I don’t run into somebody I don’t want to run into until I get some coffee, clean myself off, and brush my teeth.

There’s somebody who works in my building at Super Mondo who I met once before, years ago. In fact, I think I went on one of those internet date type things, a Dead Man Walking type date where I was pretty much nixed within the first few minutes of meeting. Which is fine. Anyways, after months of staring at each other and giving each other the "hey, do I know you?" look, we’ve progressed to making small talk and saying hi to each other. It’s still a little awkward, though, only because we haven’t had the talk yet, the one about why it is we kept on giving each other the "hey, do I know you?" look. Which, again, is fine. I got nothing bad to say about her and it’s good to know somebody else in the building. She’s also pretty friendly and a good person to know at the company. Unfortunately, everytime we run into each other, usually in the elevator, it’s not at a great time to have the talk. In fact, I usually run into her when I’m least into having the talk. Like just coming back from the gym and holding in my hand my lunch and not able to think about much other than how much I really want to eat. Or when the security system was being fixed and the elevators weren’t working and we were scrambling to figure a way into our corresponding areas.

Naturally, I ran into her. when I haven’t had coffee, was bleeding profusely, and hadn’t brushed my teeth. She’s in a really, weird, chatty mood too. I, however, am not. So once again, we just make small talk and I try to do my best to not be too freakish and sociable.

As the elevator hits my floor, I get off, sit in my cube, drink my coffee, and thank God I finally made it into work.

PS- BART broke down that night too, so I got home half an hour later than I should have. Friday was a good day.

For my Secret Santa gift I went looking through the bookstores in the Mission for a cookbook. Should have known better as this isn't the best neighborhood to find simple cook books. Books on transgender issues in Uzbekistan, yes, cooking deserts, no. Or at least, it's impossible to find cookbooks for anything that isn't organic and/or raw.

I thought about asking people in the bookstores if they had bookstores, but though the better of it lest I get lectured on how I could possibly want something as trifling as a cookbook in these times. Or how cookbooks are supported by the agriculture/industrial complex and in buying them, I'm supporting big coporate over some organic farmers in Belize who are being crushed by "the Joy of Cooking" folks.

I did something I haven't done in a long time and played chess today at lunch.

When I was a kid, I actually was into chess. In fact, I was pretty gosh-darn good, so much so I dominated my 2nd grade gifted class. I was so into it then that I actually read books about chess and started learning all the big moves. At some point, however, I backed off from playing chess probably because I realized being into chess would doom me into a life of loserdom and geekdom. So I joined marching band instead.

Actually, one of the reasons why I stopped playing is because it's one of those games where it's all up to you. It's all about the mental, about being logical and smart and seeing things steps ahead of you. There's no die rolling, no alliances, no randomness involved. Whicis why I hate playing it- if you lose you have nothing to blame. You can't say you had a bit of bad luck or you lost it in the sun or you were injured or what have you. If you lose it's because you lose.

And the thing about losing is that when you lose there's only one real excuse for it- you got outsmarted. Which, in it's way, means that you lost because somebody was smarter than you. I hate when I think somebody's smarter than me.

So that's why I hate playing chess.

Man, I hate those days where you're friggin tired and exhausted from not enough sleep and you can barely make it through work and all you want to do is go home. Then you go home and all of a sudden you wake up and have tons of energy and you wish you followed up on those plans you thought about doing but didn't because you thought you'd be tired and spend the whole time watching TiVo and wishing that either you would have gone out or went immediately to bed because at least you accompolished something other than watching all the Tivo you hadn't watched yet because you went out the night before.

And I hate when you have those super-realistic dreams, the kind that aren't crazy or surreal or nuts, but more realistic and about real things and totally detailed and even a little stressful and scary in it's depth and width of realism. Then you wake up, realize it was all a dream and that it what happened in the totally realistic dream was way more exciting than your actual life and all day you're kind of depressed because you're life isn't nearly as good as the one that you saw in your dream world.

I mean, envying other people for what they have is one thing, envying something you had in your very own dream is another thing.

Anyhoo... it being the Holiday season, err excuse me, I mean Christmas Season (sorry, Bill) that means Secret Santa time.

Is there anyone who actually likes doing the Secret Santa thing? It seems to me it's one of those office things that nobody likes but you wind up doing because you're kind of expected to do it. Like if you're a boss and you don't do Secret Santa you'd be hated by your employees because every other department is doing it and you're not. Even if most people hate it except for the one's who get really into Christmas and bring out the lights and the decorations and wear pendants every day.

Nobody likes those people.

So you have to go around and buy presents for some coworker that you maybe know well enough to buy a decent present, but probably not. Then you go hand that present over in hopes that they like it, which hardly is ever the case because you usually never know the person well enough to get them a good present. But you have to pretend you like the gift and the person who gets the gift from you has to pretend they like it when it usually winds up in the trash as soon as the person goes home and it's all awkward and strained.

And all this for a holiday that's not even mine.

Today I did something bad. Really bad. Something totally awful and evil and lame and wrong and something I know with every inch of my fibre is bad.

I ordered something after looking at some junk mail that was sent to me.

Yes, I know, I am now the problem and not the solution. I have just justified millions of dollars and thousands of trees that are all wasted in the great waste that is direct marketing.

But wait! It's not what you think! I swear!

It's from my DSL company and a new offer they're giving out. So, in fact, it's not that bad of a thing. I already pay for my service. And the DM they put out was actually helpful and informative. Not to mention a matter of good timing because I was a day or two away from switching services. Besides, as I work for a DM department, DM is my friend.

So next time your mailbox is cluttered with junk mail, blame me.

Sorry for the no post in awhile, but my trusty Ruby Red iMac has been acting up lately which prevented me from posting. In fact, it's kind of sad what's going on. It's like "Brian's Song" when Brian starts getting sick-- one by one, things that it used to have no problem doing is now being problematic and I have a feeling it's going to end with my getting all weepy and teary and giving it a speech as it bid it buh-bye.

So sad.

Anyways, here'a few quit things:

-To the girl at the bookstore on Saturday. If you've gotten so fat that the skirt you are wearing no longer can be button so you have to wear a belt to keep it up, maybe you shouldn't be wearing the skin tight, baby-t shirt. I know having a huge, prodigious beer gut maybe "empowering" and yeah, some of us guys do it, but ugly is ugly is ugly. Big shirts- look into it.

-Are bars getting louder or am I going deafer? It seems lately that whenever I've gone to some, crowded, happening bar, I can't hear anything and I spend all my time yelling "what?" at people. Is this always the way it's been and I'm just know not liking it? Am I getting deafer in my old age? Or are they cranking the steros up in the bars because all the younger kids are deafer from having iPods on 24/7?

-My feeling is that part of the reason why people are collectors is because of the buzz you get when you find something you've been searching forever. Like record collectors. They hear about some Monkees bootleg that was only released in Sri Lanka and it becomes all about getting their hands on that Monkees bootleg, even though it is a Monkees bootleg. For me, that's what I love about downloading music-- it's not necessarily having the songs to listen to, it's about finally being able to download it. Half the songs I've downloaded I barely liten to, but I'm super psyched I downloaded it.

Anyways, over the past couple of weeks, I've finally found the Holy Grail of downloading (well, for me). The first is the Afghan Whigs covering "the Temple" from JC Superstar that was on their album "Congregation." Now, it's a great song with a great riff but the fact that it's from a credible indie band as opposed to an original broadway soundtrack makes it something you can get away with cranking a lot more (cranking Andrew Lloyd Weber, after all, is verboten if you're a straight male). Plus, I loved that Whigs album back in the day and might just go out and buy it again. Then there's the one I've spent months and months searching after, a bootleg version of the Who's "Naked Eye" from their '82 tour. Today, I got it.

And for that, it was a good weekend.

PS- I also stumbled upon an acoustic version of "Mayonaise" from Siamese Dream, a pretty great one, in fact, that is totally ruined by Billy cracking up and laughing towards the end. Which kind of sums the Pumkpins up- something totally great that was totally ruined by Billy cracking up.

-In case anybody asks, no, I do not want printer ink. Even if it is 85% off.