Skip to content

Month: April 2010

Listen to!

The computer science lab at the University of California, Irvine was a clinical and unpleasant place. This lab was an extremely long room filled with rows and rows of computers as far as the eye could see. The floor was raised to accommodate for the 4286 miles of cables that were underneath it and there was a perpetual droning sound that I believe to still be making a ruckus in my head. The people that spent their time here were, in general, a bunch of douchebags. They would put blinders over their screens to make sure no one was copying their code. They would make snorting sounds and slosh around in their troughs while they grunted at somewhat hilarious images of sesame street or Rogan’s Heros. I hated going to this place but it forced you to work and even with blinders on, you could still maneuver your set of mirrors in such a way to read the screens of those bastard rapscallions. One long night, frustrated over the fact I could not find a freaking semi colon somewhere in my code, I paced the hallways. I happened to notice a guy who was slouched all the way in his chair, only his back was on the seat while his hands were on the mouse and keyboard, obviously not hiding his screen. And he had no reason to, he was bouncing his head and tapping his fingers as he was scanning some website trying to find music. It just seemed odd so I had to enquire.

My First Bike Race in Santiago Chile

As I prepared to move myself to Santiago Chile, I frequently told people that I planned to “inject myself” into the cycling scene and eventually “dominate.” Well after almost two months, six trips to various bike shops, and countless kilometers, I finally injected the scene. However, I think in the end, the scene did not like me sticking it with sharp objects and turned around and bitch slapped me to the other side of the road. Here’s how it went down.

An Uncomfortable Haircut

I’ve always hated getting my hair cut. I blame this on every guy in 1996 that decided they would look good with hair that was faded on the sides and had spikes on top. When you have a long face with a large forehead, you want something that hides these features, not showcases them. This fashion phenomenon seemed to spawn a new breed of incompetent barbers that were essentially one trick ponies. “Keep it fairly even all the way around, just a light trim,” I would instruct before I sat in the padded swivel chair. They would smile and nod as I could hear the ominous sound of the electric razor buzzing next to my ear. I eventually learned it was a pointless argument which I was sure to lose. They seemed to know no other way to cut hair, kind of like in that episode of The Simpsons where the family visits the land down under and Marge tries to order a non-alcoholic beverage from an Australian pub.