Here I am, 10,000+ miles in the air on the way to the Left Coast (‘Frisco) and I’m listening to the Phillies vs. Yankees World Series game and blogging. I know Wi-Fi on airplanes ain’t nothing new, but the fact that I’m surfing the ‘net AND getting my sports fix on has popped my top. So, for anyone that ain’t in the know, Delta is offering free Wi-Fi on any of their flights until 12/31/2009 (use promo code “DELTATRYGOGO”). It’s supposed to limit you to only one free day of usage, but if you finagle the system (as in using different usernames, emails, etc.), then you can pretty much get it free every time you fly. You could literally have free Wi-Fi on every domestic Delta flight until the end of the year (which is what I’m planning to do). So, even though I LOATHE Delta, I may consider flying them again before the end of the year just because of that very fact. We’ll see. My hate runs deep…but has been known to be fickle in the past (except for Quicken Loans – “Yes, Quicken Loans deserve to die…”).
By the way, on a not-so-random, thought out, and hypocritical rant, Delta can see these. Didn’t they file for bankruptcy just a few years ago? Yet, here they are, charging more for amenities than anyone. Anything Delta can charge for – they will. If a scenario exists where Delta can find a way to legally pickpocket you, they will. Let’s just say that if Delta bumps into you on the subway, you better start patting yourself down and make sure you still have your wallet on you. Any way Delta can take money from you, they will attempt to. Case in point, if you want to cancel a flight, Delta will refund you the monetary amount for the segment of your ticket. Here’s the catch, in order to re-book using that credit, they will charge you a $150 “re-booking” fee. Ain’t that ’bout a coked-out bitch? That’s just one example. Another being that they charge $20 per checked-in luggage. The airline standard is $15. I know they ain’t the first and they won’t be the last…but c’mon. You just filed for friggin’ BANKRUPTCY a few years ago! Shouldn’t you be trying your best to appease customers and attract new customers? I know you have to make your money somewhere, but really? Who I am to bitch though? I eschewed the hate, disdain, and bitter distaste for Delta and decided to fly with them anyways. You know what they say…money talks…bullshit walks.
So, here I am, listening to the Phillies vs. Yankees World Series broadcast on my iPhone and writing this blog on my laptop. The only reason I am listening to the World Series on my iPhone is because I can’t on my laptop. Most professional sports organizations do not allow the live online streaming of their sporting events. It’s a legal agreement they’ve made with the radio world. Some professional leagues, such as Major League Baseball, offer online paid subscriptions that will allow you to listen to any game at any time over the internet. I, being the acclaimed bootlegger that I am, downloaded the MLB.com cracked app from Installous (if you don’t know, your ignant ass betta ask somebody) on my iPhone and am able to listen to it live on my iPhone. It’s ridiculous that you can’t listen to games online. What if you’re abroad and want to catch a live audio feed of your favorite team’s next match? S.O.L is what you’d be…well, unless you’re willing to sacrifice any dignity you have and PAY for what should be free. Paying for what I can find for free is an absurd idea I will never fully comprehend (nor do I want to). Wait, wait wait…what’s that? People STILL rent movies from Blockbuster? People STILL buy CDs? Have I missed my spot in the rotation of the passing of the crack pipe?
Anyways, I’m on my way to Oaktown to surprise my sister on her birthday. Let’s hope that she isn’t an avid reader of this blog. That’d be a dumbfuck move on my part, no? My parents surprised her yesterday. I implored my parents not to snitch on my surprise plans. I told my moms, “Yo son…snitches get stitches.” So, I, being the brilliant liar that I am, called my sis today to wish her a happy birthday and told her that I’m stuck in the boondocks of Texas. I told her that I wish I could be there and celebrate the birthday with the entire family. I’m a slick follicle…I know. I lie like a shag rug.
That slurping sound you faintly hear is me sucking face and getting to 2nd base with Lady Technology. If I chop my onions right, I may get to officially join the Mile High Club. I may not even pull out. TMI, I know. Shit, no me importa. Love knows no bounds…come to think of it, neither does lust.
Forget all that, I’m just glad to be done with work for the week. Bent over am I no more (well, at least for the week). I worked past 10pm the past 2 nights. For those that are counting, that’s 13+ hours both nights. Puff, puff…I’d rather pass. But…I had no choice. I had to meet a project deadline. So I bent over, lubed up, and took it like an amateur pornstar trying to make it in the industry. No worries, I’m now headed to the wonderful Left Coast where vegetarian and vegan food is more a mainstay than a scarce commodity.
All them veggie joints are whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I’ll be crappin’ tofu and pissin’ organic juice for the rest of the weekend. Dreams DO come true (contrary to what my pops has hammered into my head). I’m gonna meet up one of my old college buddies too (who’s doing a 1-year Masters program at Berkeley). That dude is a funny cat. I call him Ichiro (he’s half Japanese). After graduation, he moved to Tokyo and was breakin’ 24-grain bread. Cat was stackin’ (he worked at Lehman Bros.). I vowed to him that I would visit him out in Tokyo, but never ended up going. Money was tighter back then and tickets were way too expensive. So, now that he’s returned to the States, I’m gonna visit him this weekend. Do some catching up. I remember him telling me years ago that “…flat screen TVs are like toilet paper in Japan…everyone has ’em.” Funny guy. Plus, he uttered one of the oddest threats I’ve ever heard a friend of mine direct at someone: “I will eat your face!”. Classic stuff.
I’ve become so accustomed to neglecting my blog that I don’t even feel the need to apologize nor make excuses anymore.
I’ve increasingly noticed over the past year that I’ve started to think more like an engineer in my life outside of work (something I thought would never happen). I’ve always prided myself on being a liberal thinker, especially considering that I work in a geeked-out, technical profession. Years ago, I was an emotional guy. Not emotional in the sense that I weeped at any opportunity, but emotional in the sense that I felt more. How exactly can I explain that? Well, when someone pissed me off, I would get pissed off. When something bad happened in my life, I’d labor over the why’s and how’s of the situation. When things went well, I got excited; I let myself enjoy the moment. Nowadays? If something goes awry, I shrug my shoulders and console myself by muttering “such is life” to myself. This is the coping mechanism I’ve developed over the years. This system of mine prevents me from getting too amped when things are good and too depressed when things are bad. Sometimes, I feel like a robot. I think too logically. I’ve become a discrete thinker. Things always seem to be either a 0 or 1. Black or white. Gray doesn’t seem to be a color on the paint palette of my thoughts. I don’t know. Is it better to be emotionally swayed by the inertia of the moment or is it better to be indifferent? If not indifferent, I’m at best ambivalent. Shit, I don’t know. Ideally, a balance between the two (rational and emotional thought) is ideal, but how can you achieve one without sacrificing the other? I’m not exactly sure. Again, these are just scatterbrained thoughts that are floating around in my George Lopez watermelon-sized head. Do any of them merit any attention or legitimacy? I don’t know. Alls I knows is that I’ve changed the way in which I emotionally deal with things. Whether I’ve consciously decided to take that approach is beyond me. I just know that it’s gradually happened over the years.
I’ve been all over the place with this post. I’m glad to see that I haven’t lost my erratic touch.