it's wednesday already, ain't it...

Yesh. Overdue happenings. Action-packed weekend.

Start with a trip out to Grand Rapids for the IMBA trail school thingie. Pretty cool, actually. For 3 hours they talked about all kinds of things like Fall Lines, Grade Reversals, Outslope, and los of other stuff. Making good trails and trail systems to ride bikes on, that last a long time, that are copacetic with hikers and equestrians, don't need much maintenance... and are fun to ride on. Gotta say, those Trail Care Crew folks have a pretty cool job. Drive back and forth across the country showing people how to build trails, and along the way getting to ride all those trails too.

So the presentation is over, and they lunch gets put out on tables, but I have to bail because I've got a 2 hour drive back before PunkinFest, and I head out to the parking lot. Realizing that I left some swag inside, I go back, and when I walk out again, there's a couple people on the way in from the parking lot chatting near the sidewalk. Double take. Triple take. Holy shit... that's... that's... I know who she is, but brain not working... I just watched Off Road To Athens last week, and she's an Olympian and a pro and National Champ, and World Champ and an ass-kicker and .... I was caught so off-guard I could not think of her name. GAH. It escaped me. I felt ashamed, but I managed to eek out a starstruck "uhm, Hi. you're... uhm... pretty cool." She's there with her husband and a friend and asks if I know these trails, and of course I'd never been there before today, so I feel sillier, even.

In the car 2 minutes later, names come easy: Allison Dunlap. I'm such a dweeb. Apparently she's in town because her husband's family lives nearby, so visiting and all. Anyway, so that's my star-sighting/feeling like a dork moment for the month.

So then I drive back to AA in time to get a quick disco nap before heading out to Pete & Wendy's PunkinFest (Barn Christening) Party. Good times, there. Tons of food, drink, and merriment. Union Pulse was going to Canada for a gig, but got turned back at the border, so they came to the barn instead and played a set for the partiers. After the live music, some 80's tunes made their way into the audio and Brooke and Shawn were killin' it on the dance floor with their mad breakdance extravaganza. Yes, they have skills.

So as all good parties should have, there was the starting of the fire (camp-, not barn-) and the gathering there-round. And then Garth gets out his spears, sets up a couple pumpkins, and while I never would have predicted it, apparently throwing spears at pumpkins is a crowd-pleasing activity. It went long into the night. And while those pumpkins 30 ft away were fairly safe for most of the time, a couple people did indeed hit them. You'd think it's easy, but spear-tossin' (accurately) is pretty tough. Drinkin' and sittin' by campfire rounded out the evening, and then off to bed.

Sunday... well, Sunday is turning out to be a regular gig... the local boys from the couple of alleycats I've been to have been gathering on Sunday afternoons for bike polo. Fun, that be.

So Matt and I met up for some trail riding beforehand just because, and then looped back to the park where people were starting to gather. The other Matt brought mallets and stuff, the cones came out, and the hijinks ensued. After a couple times trying it, I'm starting to notice some subtleties. I wouldn't go so far as to say strategy or tactics or anything like that, but I can see some normal patterns of play now. When it comes to ball-handling style, there's dribblers, long-bombers, blockers, sharp-shooters, all kinds of strengths. All I know at the moment is that if I have the ball, I'm the dribbling, between the legs, tongue-out-Jordan-style, take-it-to-the-hole type. I can't make a long shot to save my life, but I'll juke a muthafucka all day like some Harlem Globetrotters ('n' shit, yo).

Pete seemed to take the hockey enforcer style, using his charging and coaster-brake cruiser skids and rattling chain guard to intimidate the dudes on the shiny fixies. Gotta say, if you love a bike too much, don't bring it to polo. Silly shit happens. Low speed crashes, multi-bike entanglements, and dudes like me happen too (if I'm rubbing wheels with someone while scrabbling for the ball, my wheel pushing on theirs in the hope of forcing them to put a foot down... is a good strategy).

But in the end, Pete was getting ridiculous with his bullying and no one would take him on. The best thing I could do for my team was to share my elbows with him, and going for the ball on the breakaway was a good excuse. Didn't even get near the ball, just putting him into the grass was what was needed. Sorry Pete, but you bring that cheese, you're gonna get the shoulder every time.

Last night (tues) was the Halloween alleycat, and while it wasn't freezing, I did get a little chilly. G came out and staffed a checkpoint, but realized that there's stretches of boring in that - and didn't bring a book or anything. I raced and had a modest 10th, but I'm gonna blame the fact that one checkpoint wasn't set up or visible when I got to it (I had to go back and do it later). Probably was there, I'm just whining. Had a bad case of the Post Hard Riding Coughing afterwards, but whatever.

Ok. mmph.

All I got right now. Happy Halloween, y'all.

blech.

Crapola. I want to go to the IMBA Trail Care Crew class out in Grand Rapids this weekend, but my plans are foiled, more or less. Call 'em pseudo-foiled.

I was going to head out that way this afternoon/evening to ride some trails, then camp overnight somewhere local, and then show up at the class/presentation in the morning. Mostly, because riding is fun, camping is easy/cheap, and I don't like early morning wakeups. I figured I could be local and just stumble out of my tent to go to the thing. But since it's raining right now and a 70% chance of rain this afternoon/evening in GR, so me no ridey. Looks like I'm just gonna chuck the idea and just get up super-early and drive out there.

The one good thing about it is that in the search for a spot to pitch a tent, I learned that the State Forests in Michigan have a policy similar to Federal USFS/BLM land regarding dispersed camping - it's free, and as long as you abide by the rules, you can just plop down, pitch your tent, and sleep the sleep of the just. Keep in mind... State Forests are ok, not State Parks. Check out the rules here and here.
...
OK, so in the meantime since typing that, I read the rules. Since the Rules specify certain dates in State Game Areas that camping is forbidden, and not knowing where those might be, obviously, I had a bunch of questions (this isn't the first time I've pondered the survey boundaries of federal/state public land). So I called the State of Michigan. I pay my taxes, surely they would help me in my quest for information. Bouncing around trying to find the right answers, 45 minutes later, what I learn is this...

County plat maps.

Sure... the State and Federal agencies and governments have the Master Control over what is and what is not, but they don't publish map books. Somewhere deep in the bowels of the GIS system there is surely a way to display an accurate rendering of the land survey for State Forests. But Joey Taxpayer can't get at them easily. HOWEVER... if you know what county you're looking at, the county maintains records of plat ownership, so those should indicate boundaries, even if they don't hold administrative authority over the land.

So there it is.

One last thing... funny bits you didn't think were necessary (from the Rules document):

  (l) "Person" has the same meaning as defined in section 301 of 1994 PA 451, MCL 324.301

Apparently, not everyone has a clear understanding of what a "person" is.

(and no, I haven't looked up PA451. I'm done with gov'ment fo' the day.)

odds and ends...

Cleaning out the photos from my phone, I come across these little chuckle-worthy bits:
The funniest parts about this poster is where it's located. Above a urinal at eye level. "Touch consumers"? Wow, now that's powerful campaign. It can reach out and grab your junk while you're taking a whizz. And yes, that's a low-distraction moment. Just me and my wang. Even if there is another guy pissing, it's not like we're having an in-depth conversation or anything.

A palette of parts, and apparently the empty palette should be returned to an android. Hopefully no one at Cyberdyne Systems knows about this.
Hmm... so there's D/s, B/D, S/M, BDSM, and an infinite variety of kinks out there. Auto-domination too, apparently.

downtown LED lighting

Looks like the city government is going ahead with 100% LED lighting downtown. Every time I would walk past the pilot program installation and see the "New lighting... Comments? call ___"sign, I've been meaning to comment about the color (they have a bluish cast to them and could stand to get more yellow into their spectrum) and that they should protect a little better against light pollution.

But it looks like I waited too long... one of those "speak now or forever hold your peace" things.

pedal therapy

A new mantra to cure what ails: just go pedal somewhere.

A couple weeks ago after a build up and tension-filled anti-climax of over-thought expectations, I found myself crashing hard, and into a navel-gazing funk. A little voice inside trying to console myself, trying at both ends to pull deeper within and extract from the morass. "Go, get out and do something." "Do what?" "I don't care... Try Something. Try Anything." "I should at least have some sort of plan." "No. Just go pedal somewhere."

And that's the voice that won. And as I rolled along, the lint clot in my head broke free. The bike love took over.

It fixed me.

There's lots of bike love - whether you're a pro or new to it. Sometimes you just have to remember that it's there Available, cheaper than therapy, and no reservation required.

secret identities

Every now and then I have troubles with this whole blogging concept as a dynamic-journal-of-sorts (yes, I know it's self-referential to blog about a blog, but just ignore that for the time being). It's a thing that I've had decision-making problems with before, and that's the boundaries between things public and private.

I think of this sometimes as a personally therapeutic activity. No, gentle reader, I'm not using you as a substitute for proper mental health care, but there is something to be said for exercising the cobwebs, preventing the mental stagnation that comes from a lack of thoughtul contemplation or the running around and around in the same rut. Here I am sounding all high-falutin' when really what I am describing is the conversation that any kid has when they start off their first journal entry with "Dear Diary..." But you see, the diary is ultimately a very a private thing. Something that you trust no one will read - something to which you can entrust your deepest darkest secrets. The blog? not so much - it's on the web and just about anybody can see it. Of course, it's a form of voyeurism too - you WANT people to look at it and read it, or else what's the point? Without another participant, it would just be masturbation.

I started thinking about this a year ago and wrote two paragraphs. I shelved it then, but was talking with a friend recently (who reads this) about exactly this. And it seems we were both independently headed to the same mental place - to have or not to have a secret blog. Our "usual" online identities are bound up or connected in some way or other with our real world identities (slightly obscured though they may be). When you really want to cut loose and talk about what's really going on in your head, maybe you don't want anyone you actually know to know what you're really agonizing over. But then if it's so secret no one knows about it, what's the use? Maybe the anonymous voyeurism that someone, somewhere might just read it. Like having sex in a public place or Larry Craig-like airport bathroom hookups, perhaps the danger of getting caught is part of the thrill.

Moving in... spreading out closer to the edges of myself... buying vacation property there instead of just visiting every now and then.

Debate Questions for GOP (link)

The Fine Art of Buying Nothing (and doing)

Been inadvertently perfecting my buy-nothingness lately. The other day I made the triple-threat mistake of going to: a hobby store, a Lowes, and a GFS outlet. All this on a day when I was already goofy, scattered, and unaware of what I wanted in the world.

The usual way that I make for myself in the world is to avoid deadlock. In those conversations not deciding and agonizing over where to go, what to do, I'm the guy who eventually blurts out "this is fucking stupid... we're going to ___, and if you really don't want to go, we'll meet up after." And if that pisses everyone else off and I walk off and no one comes with, that's my own burden. Resolving the impassible quandary gave me more mental satisfaction than getting everyone to go along with me. I just can't stand that metastable, activated but going-nowhere, state. But when it comes to myself when I'm by myself, it seems I can agonize over this for a seeming eternity.

So now I'm on a smaller cashflow, highly caffeinated, and going to a hobby shop (where there's thousands of fascinating widgets and projects I know I don't have time or follow-through for), and a hardware mega-plex (where there's hundreds of solutions for problems I didn't know I had), and a GFS (food-service sized portions and implements I don't need... I cook for myself). It was a fairly bizarre experience that left me unable to make the simplest decisions. Why? I normally would just go ahead and buy the thing that I was agonizing over - if it was ultimately a wasted $50, so what? Nowadays, not so much. And I could just throw it in the car and move on to the next thing. But that day was sunny and 70, and I was on the bike. So you'd think my available options would have helped me, but they didn't.

And then I went to the UMich Property Disposition Center the other day. Need a centrifuge? Robotic genetic analysis dispenser machine? Sun Sparc enterprise server? Shelves? Desks? Alas, I know my tendency is to buy because Look! At! All! These! Great! Deals! (on used crap). But here I am, in a brave new world. Perfecting the Art of Buying Nothing.

One of the many reasons I think of to buy a house. Stuff Projects. Widgets. And it would only make it worse, wouldn't it?

But this general situation is what I worry my problem is these days. I find it far too easy to decide for other people what is right and what to do. For myself, I see far too many possibilities - I can't decide. There's nothing too far from reasonably doable, either through force of will or creative solutions. So what do I do? Of late, I've been doing nothing.

Am I natural? I'm abhorring the vacuum, that's for sure.

just trying to have a snack, fer chrissakes...

Rough day at the office...

(the first few minutes are boring, but it gets wayyyy better halfway through)

prepickle? postpickle?

A question I ask the wind... are you a prepickle eater or postpickle eater?

When you get your sandwich and it comes with a pickle - whole, half, spear, whatever - do you eat the pickle first or last? Is it a warmup or a cooldown? Apertif or digestif? And what does that say about the person? I realize that there are many cases where the pickle is a component of the dish (burger with pickle slices, chicken shwarma, etc.) or irrelevant (conscientious pickle objectors) but those aren't the point of the question.

I, for the record, prepickle. The way I see it, it's a self-contained food item that has few thematic connections to the rest of what's on the plate, and while they are tasty, they also take up space. No reason not to just go ahead and have it right then and there, and as a benefit, clear space on the plate/basket for mid-meal food maneuvering.

Does this mean anything? Is it one of those anal retentive (controlling, OCD, etc.) or anal expulsive (emotional, prone to outburst) things? Is it poor impulse control on my part?

Or am I just a little too prone to over-analysis? Perhaps sometimes a pickle... is just a pickle.

Dapples (overdue Manistee mumblings)

The weekend before last, in honor of the last decent expected weather in Michigan, a trip just came together on a lark.

It was impromptu, happenstance, and serendipitousish, and thus begins my flawed and biased re-telling...

As y'all might know, the public lands administered by the US Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management are, unless specifically prohibited otherwise, open to the public for recreation (meaning hiking, camping, hunting, parcheesi, whatever). Assuming you aren't governed by something else (hunting season/permits, motorized vehicle restrictions, etc.) you can pretty much do your thing. And in the Manistee N.F. you've got a stretch of the North Country Scenic Trail, which is on its way from New York to North Dakota (a glimpse of the map below and full map of the National Trail System here). And the NCST, which you can read up on here, also intersects the Big M trail system. Lessee here... a pinch of trail, a dash of forest... hmm.

So G brought the minivan over, we packed in some bikes, some gear, some food and drink, I refrained from making any Soccer Mom wisecracks, and off we went up to Manistee.

4 hours later we're within the bounds of the forest. While it was a little confusing figuring out what all the obviously private dwellings were doing in the middle of what we expected to be just miles and miles of pseudo-wilderness (remember that "Wilderness" has specific federal definitions... which MNF isn't), we nevertheless managed to blunder about.

We got to the established USFS campgrounds, and instead of paying the ridiculous fee ($12 for a campsite where there was no water, no showers, no nada... just a flat piece of ground) we elected to just plop ourselves out in the forest somewhere. Down this chunky 2-track, down that chunky 2-track. Hoping that we're on public land and not inadvertently stumbling onto private land or a meth lab so that we don't get shot.

We find a spot, set up tent-age, get the bikes out and go for a quickie ride. Nice to roll out of home base and in a 5-10 minute ride be on a trail that goes for 1000 miles in either direction. NICE trail I tell ya. Wooded singletrack moseying through stands of pines and oaks and maples. Occasional boardwalk or bridge crossing creek and marsh. We go south a ways and notice that the map board at a road intersection indicates part of the NCST off-limits to bikes. Puzzling, but not a worry since it was time to turn around, and there was more trail to the north of our campsite. Back to camp in delicious pre-fall weather, make some dinner (Saag Paneer) and a beer, or was it wine start a little campfire, sit around a bit before turning in for the night.

A nice morning to wake up to and an easy breakfast of instant oatmeal and instant coffee. I have to confess - I am an unapologetic coffee snob. I'll tell you how much I hate when a bean blend is cheaping it out with Brazilian filler beans. I'll bitch about strength. But when it comes to carrying gear and cooking on the trail... nothing beats coffee crystals for that perfect combo of light, easy, adjustable strength, quick, and no cleanup or garbage. Leave the coffee pot at home, folks. Just carry instant.

Right, so the next day we have some breakfast and lazily make our way into bike gear, pack lunch and stuff, and head north seeing lots of pretty forest (some of it heavily wind-damaged, but happily cleared trail) and on the road connecting off-road trail, this yard art/eco-mower. We get to the Big M Outer Loop intersection and head around the outside of the Outer Loop, which has a couple climb sections of note and interesting bridge building technique. I've never seen bridges on primarily MTB trails that had handrails. Constructed with downed trees and a chainsaw. Three of 'em. It was weird.

So at the top of one of the longer climbs, the stomachs growling decreed that lunch was to be had, so we pulled over, munched a lunch, and lazed about in the forest watching the dappled leaves, listening to the breeze in the trees, napping a bit. er... I mean "resting my eyes"

Rolling along after lunch, it became time to head back, and so we did. Back to the campsite in just enough time to mosey over to the river and rinse our selves off ("The Little Manistee River... where the water flows clear and chilly, and the scrotal shrinkage is instantaneous."), gather water, and get to cooking. Fried tempeh with zucchini and Kung Pao/Szechuan noodles, some wine, and a campfire. Nice, that. Bummer though - the rain, she did come. Luckily, the warning sprinkles gave us time to get things stored away before it got raining for serious. But there was lots of firewood left over, and plenty of wine and beer, and that was unfortunate that they couldn't both get used that night.

But the next day was the journey back, and along the way came the Beer Gauntlet. On the way back from the Northwestern Lower (Peninsula of Michigan, for you out-of-staters) to Ann Arbor, the highway is littered with breweries. It's like a truck was driving along and they just fell out the back. Founder's in Grand Rapids, Bell's in Kalamazoo, Arcadia in Battle Creek, Dark Horse in Marshall.

Gotta say, the start and end points were... tasty. Founder's, y'all rock. I have much beer love for you. And you sponsor bike racin'. And have cool live music. Have I mentioned I like your beer lots? Kentucky Breakfast Stout, while very limited in availability, is delicious. Round and full, swells nicely on the tongue and rolls strong, comes off it slowly and gently. Well done. If you get a chance, give it a try. And the regular Breakfast Stout. And the Red's Rye. And Black Rye. And the Dirty Bastard Scotch Ale.

I limited myself in time and liver capacity to one, and we moved on to Bell's. While it's a fascinating tap room (with art and maps and historical documents), the beer was... mediocre. Bell's continues to non-impress me. Yes, they are the 800 lb gorilla in Michigan Beer. But the hoopla about Oberon is overrated, especially since every time I had it this year it has been terrible. Two-Hearted Ale, sure, but that's about all I can stand to buy. Everything else is ridiculously priced, and not really good enough to justify the price. I had the sampler, had a hard time picking because there was nothing on tap that hadn't been around on store shelves already over the past 5 years.

On to Arcadia. Beautiful bar/restaurant in the celtic style, but again... nothing new. The beers have remained the same as they have been for 10 years. While they've had small-run interesting but not very available batches like Coco Loco, Hopmouth, and Cereal Killer, the rest of the beers have stayed middling.

Dark Horse Brewing wins the Upstart Award. It's a tiny, tiny place in Marshall, MI (also a tiny place). What they lack in refinement of label art they make up for in enthusiasm. Favorites of mine: Crooked Tree IPA, the Black Beer, the Amber Ale, and the joint venture with Corner Brewery: Dark Corner. Tasty stuff, it is.

And Dark Horse likes bike racin' too. Oh yeah, and the sister brewery of Corner Brewery, Arbor Brewing Co. also sponsors bike racin'. I'm seeing a trend here.

Ok, blah. I've blathered too long. Forest, Bikes, Beer: mmm, Good.

woof.

spoiler votes

So now that Michigan is no longer going to have a meaningful Democratic primary election, the question is: what do Democrats do with their free time?

If the Republicans have a primary in Michigan, those Democrats could potentially switch over just for the primary (mind you, I have no idea if this is even possible... I've never registered with a party or voted in a primary) and to raise havoc in the Republican primary. But the question becomes... how best to muck the Republican primary - try to get a friendly candidate elected, or add votes to the crazy nutso? If a moderate Republican wins the primary and then the presidential election, then it won't be as unfriendly of a President to Dems. On the other hand, getting an extremist wacko onto the presidential ballot in order to influence undecideds and moderate conservatives to vote Democratic because that candidate is not as bad as the other one might be useful.

Of course, all this matters not a bit if the Republicans cancel a Michigan primary specifically to avoid these hijinks.

chuckle-snarky

Gah. Been bad. Ain't been posting. But couldn't resist passing along the snarkiest corporate slogan/motto/tagline I've seen in a while:

BOB Trailers - "the leader in following"

not a bad day...

Regardless of the late start I got on the day, I gotta say that it shaped up pretty well.

Started with the emails back and forth that look like will get me a good recommendation on a job with a company I've been thinking about for a while. Good, that.

And then the bikey shtuff... first of all, a big Thank You Hug to the collective staff of the Infrastructure Planning and Street Maintence (and whoever else) at the City of Ann Arbor for the updates to Packard Rd. Been a pain in the ass in many ways, the construction project to bolster infrastructure (water, etc.) for the SE corner of the city resulted in new pavement that includes (ta daa!) bike lanes. They went from 2 lanes each way to 1 each way with a shared turn lane, and Full Sized Bike Lanes. Which kicks ass. Happy taxpayer, I am. And really has very little effect on traffic flow, given the feeder streets to that section of Packard and usage patterns. I realize that this is only 1 mile or so of changes, but it's a step in the right direction. Oh yeah, and it's right outside MY house. Now if only Morgan and York would fix the damn neon sign. It's incredibly tacky to be in such disrepair, and it's not like they don't bank large amount of cash from their froofy booze-n-cheese business. Pony up for the maintenance bucks, guys. The asphalt road is showing you up, and it just lays there.

For those interested in urban planning and transportation alternatives, check out the Ann Arbor Non-Motorized Transportation Master Plan. It's a long slog through a long document, but brings up all kinds of interesting planning, safety, and usage pattern factoids.

Other bikey news. It was absolutely perfect weather. 60 miles run through Waterloo, no bonking. Nice.

Bikey chit chat: rolling through Waterloo I ran into up Brian (Sociology grad and part-time wrench slinger for Two Wheel Tango) and we rode back eastward together. Plenty of chance to chat, and while we were talking for most of the way, my sore shoulders and post-ride cough gave me the distinct impression that he would spank me big time in a higher-stakes ride. Talked about this and that... lamented the fact that the Bloomer Park Velodrome is so far away, but so so fun. Now where in Washtenaw county could we put one? I mean, there's gotta be at least a couple hundred people that would be interested, what with the thousands of bike folks on the Ypsi/AA/Saline/Dexter/Chelsea axis. I'd love to make a comment about how Brian, as a part-timer, does more for the cred of the shop than Dennis (owner) does with his Mr.-Grumpy-doesn't-seem-to-want-you-as-a-customer attitude, but I'm not negative like that. or am I?

So then it was a christening of my new pressure cooker with with some cow peas, bacon, garlic, and kale, and a smidge o' red red wine for the glass. Gotta tell you, I do make a damn good bean dish, if I may say so m'self. The one thing I just love about kale, other than it's apparent surface hydrophobia, is that it takes abuse like no other leafy green I know. You can cook the snot out of it (i.e., toss it in and forget about it for a while) and it just takes the punishment and comes out tasty and nicely textured. It must have a little bit of masochist in it.

So I'm gonna head out and see Eastern Promises tonight just to try to cap it off with a flourish. Viggo makes a good movie, David Cronenberg (History of Violence, Crash, eXistenZ, The Fly) does really good stuff, and Naomi Watts? Well even if she hadn't pulled me in and ripped me a new one in 21 Grams, she is so... meow. Mmm, pretty. Throw in some Russian Mob intrigue and some prison ink, and I'm ready to be entertained.

will you shut the fuck up? (seriously)

As a shout out to everyone who was near/with/around me at the Medeski, Martin, and Wood show at the Detroit Jazz Fest, and who might have had the pleasure of observing the balding tubbo greaser turn around and complain vehemently that I was disturbing him with my talking at a free, outdoor, attended by thousands Jazz Fest... I offer the following counter example:

When you are in a library studying, set your phone to silent/vibrate. If someone calls you when you're in the library, and you simply *must* answer it, please try to keep your voice down. And when that conversation appears to be going to continue for more than a minute, go out to the lobby, or outside, or how about... GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME.

I mean seriously, folks. I understand the ubiquity of telecommunication devices. I take pleasure in a couple of them myself. I realize that the world changes and we must change with it. I realize that as information is more and more available electronically from your computer at home, the nature of the library is also changing. I realize that the engineering library is used by students as a meeting place to work on projects together, and there's a certain amount of conversation that goes with that.

But I have to draw the line somewhere. Noise and interruption has permeated so much of our daily lives that we tolerate it far too much.If there were one public (secular) place left in the world where you can go and pore over books in peace and quiet, where is that? The library. Deep in the shelves, far away from the high traffic areas.

But today, across the table, this guy first of all has to call his buddy about this great story BBC-Online has (but apparently can't email to him). And then a few minutes later takes a call and proceeds to go on for over 10 minutes about this or that dance/social event organization. I didn't feel I was in a position to bitch him out there in public because I'm not a tuition-paying student, but now that my ire is up, I remember that I'm a taxpayer, and a guest of the University to boot. And next time I think I'm going to share my feelings with those that are telephonically manners-challenged. And fuck 'em if they don't like what I have to say about their annoyances.