I’ve done some disturbing math regarding my driving to work. The days that I ride my bike, or ride and take the shuttle, I save around $13.
It costs $13 to drive to work.
Here’s the breakdown:
- According to the IRS: “For 2006, the standard mileage rate is 44.5 cents a mile.” This considers more than just the cost of gas.
- My total round trip drive/ride is ~25 miles. ($.445 x 25 = $11.12)
- My monthly parking fee at PCC comes to $.22/day ($6.50/30)
- If I park at PSU, I average ~ $2/day
That’s like 3 pints plus tips.
It’s been one year since that 103F day that we moved in to our home. How much has changed; how much still to do.
Wow – apparently it’s been so long that all my previous posts are no longer on the page. Anyway, here’s a picture from down the street of some wart-like growths on a maple leaf. Also, here are some pics from our trip to Manzanita recently with family.
I’ve been a little busy lately, and the few posts I’ve made in the last 2 weeks have been on Rooftop Brew instead of here. Fortunately, classes will be over in less than a month. Holy crap that’s soon.
Yota was in the shop all week getting the brakes serviced (thanks to PCC students it was free) so I rode to work and class all week. It was nice, and I put another hundred miles on Jake. One of the nice things about riding is that you have some time with yourself, though its generally not as thorough as when you’re driving because part of your brain is keeping you upright and criticizing drivers. Here are a collection of the thoughts that came up this week:
- Ford excursion driver – is that “Keep Alaska Wild” bumpersticker a joke?
- How the hell did “Isn’t She Lovely” get rated 5 stars and make it on to my otherwise rocking playlist?
- ha ha… You ran the stop light/cut through the transit mall and I still passed you
- Widmer smells so good. I should call Michelle and have her meet me there for dinner
- How the hell did “Midnight Rambler” get 5 stars. There must be some serious inflation going on
- I don’t care if I’m not supposed to wear earbuds. If I’m going to get hit on Barbur, I don’t want to hear it.
- How can it be windy in both directions
- Should… have…eaten….breakfast….
See. Not much going on.
I can’t say I like how modernism has affected the buildings around us, but I have a hunch about how so many featureless glass skyscrapers were built. Bear with me on this one, it’s a bit far fetched.
The year was 1980. Wealthy developers and bankers got together to build a new monument to their awesomeness. Several plans were reviewed until the consortium of young turks agreed on a plan. They couldn’t get behind most of the more conventional designs, but all agreed that this was a building you could really snort coke off of.
Big Pink is quite ugly, but I’m impressed by the siting of it. Residents and travelers can easily see it from way out on several major arterials that point straight at it. If you’re going to build something so big, make sure people have to look at it.
Though not yet complete, Michelle insisted I put up some pictures of the progress on our yard so far. Here’s a chronology of the transformation so far. Oddly enough, the first pictures of the back yard are exactly one year old. We were sad to get rid of the apple tree, but the borers were so bad that it had to go. Now we’re looking for a replacement. more to come.
When Ben, Theresa and Howie were down her recently, we made a trip south to Babysaurus to pick their expert brains. It was fun and surreal at the same time. The amount of stuff that is available for babies is absurd. This mini-play station was not the most absurd thing we found, but I felt it was a model for the future cubicle. Imagine being able to swing your chair around your desk to work on a project on the other side? Or if you knew your boss was coming, you could swing back to the clean side of the desk and blame the mess on someone else.
Yes, I did write “poop” on the magnetic screen. I did that on several dozen toys at the store. I figured “poop” isn’t so much a dirty word but a fact of life for babies. The parents are probably going to be too tired to care anyway. Besides, if this really were a baby’s cubicle, you can be damn sure that “poop” would show up on their day planner several times. “Let’s see, it’s time for my ten o’clock…”