Category: blahblah

My sister had all her camera equipment and music stolen recently. There were other small things stolen, but two of her most prized possessions, her professional Nikon camera and her bounty of CDs, were the biggest loss. The culprits are still at large, though their identity known. Insurance will replace the stolen goods, but the agent warned the agency would promptly drop the policy or raise premiums to regain the cost of the possessions quickly. Ah… piece of mind.

Ultimately, she decided not to make a claim on the stolen items. The thieves won, the insurance company won, and the wall of cynicism in our lives has had several more bricks added to it. Some solace can be had through caustic remarks.

My dad’s contribution:
“To the thieves; You can take my possessions, but not my soul. I can replace my possessions, but you can never replace your soul.”

We’ve all been slighted in some way, and its amazing how powerless it makes you feel. I really hope there is Karma, though it sounds like one of the culprit’s may already be booked paying off other karmic debts. Its f*ckers like these that give Yakima a bad name.

One of the many surprising combinations that comes out of limited food options is today’s lunch – a garden-burger bbq riblet with mozzarella cheese served on a soft taco shell. It was pretty good. I’m sure the dietary value was minimal though.

What other past concoctions have there been? spaghetti-pita sandwich, peanut butter-salami-green onion on a soft taco shell, madras lentils on a soft taco shell, cream cheese and grape jelly on a soft taco shell, hot-dog in a taco shell with red chili sauce. Yes – it seems that the source of gustatory innovation is round bread.

Michelle is out of compliance, but you didn’t hear it from me….

While returning from grocery shopping today, I passed by Michelle and my personal sandwich shop, Big Town Hero. I was shocked to see that the location had closed and the signage was completely gone! Sure, there are other locations, but this was the one we ate at while looking at moving to Portland, and during the first couple years of law school. Heck, I’m only two sandwiches short of a free sub.

The manager to the store was great. He ran a tight ship, and the ingredients were always good. Every time he was in the store, the sandwiches were at their best. Some times, when it was just the Wilson High squad, they were lacking, but still adequate. Their “the Italian” quickly became my favorite, surpassing other chain sandwiches like The Little King, Port of Subs, The Sub Shop, and Blimpies.

Its a sad loss, and I blame the other franchise owners for crowding his location. I don’t blame the Subway across the street, because it sucks. Lets just say there are reasons you can have a subway inside a gas station.

Sandwiches are my favorite type of food. The variety of potential ingredients makes for an immense range of gustatory experiences. I’ll deeply miss the location, and don’t know where else to go yet.

Last night while watching some TV, we heard a bizarre scratching noise outside our door. It was unlike the normal noises Tigger makes, so we got up to investigate. The noise apearred to have come from the huddled ET looking old woman that was now hobbling down our sidewalk. She had torn a single page out of a bible and stuck it into our door jam.

Besides being excedingly creepy on its own, the first passage on the page refers to “…the servants of A’mon conspired against him and put the king to death in his own house.” (2 Kings 21:23)

Although I’m sure it it was a bizarre combination of events, I’m hoping it was just a crazy woman with some sense of duty to spread Jehovah’s word in an engaging and effective manner. I wonder how long she had been outside our door before selecting and ripping the page out. Could she have heard my religious trash-talking all the way up on the Olympic Peninsula?

This weekend a group of our friends congregated at Staircase Campground in Olympic national park for the 3rd year in a row. Previously, we’d camped a few weeks earlier in the season before the campground officially opened (toilets, etc) and started charging fees. The campground is great, the area is beautiful, and the lack of other people is a big draw considering the size and enthusiasm of our group. This year’s gathering was to be slightly smaller due to other family engagements.

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Mucous smells bad when you’re sick. I should probably start taking some allergy medicine. I miss the desert.

Chris sent me a link to a site of a woman’s adventure’s on her motorbike through the dead zone of Chernobyl. Its less about motorcycles and more about the disaster. It includes some very haunting pictures of the city and surrounding area, as well as some relics of the lives of people who have either fled or died from the accident. The author claims the “dead zone” is her favorite place to ride because there are no cars, no traffic, and no people, which is great for driving fast. It may be fast, but its really creepy.

Scott, Michelle, the dogs, and I took a hike up to Angel’s Rest yesterday. It was a sunny and clear day, and we all needed to get out. The view from the top was really great; you could see Portland and beyond to the west, and Mt. Rainier to the east. It was quite windy at the summit, maybe 45MPH with gusts up to 70MPH. I was able to take a panoramic shot, though its not that great.

Yes, you too can be that jackass with a cellphone that plays popular and annoying songs thanks to MIDI.