T Mobile Fun

Two interesting (in the sense that I'll never get the time I spent on them back, so I'll dub them "interesting" so at the end of my existence I won't look back bitterly at the 25 minutes I wasted on them last night) experiences with T Mobile, my cell phone carrier, last night:

1. I got a random text message. In spite of having a relatively new phone that can store like a hundred digital images at a time, for some great reason I can only carry 34 text messages before my inbox gets filled up. From my crises/adventures/whatever, I've acquired 30-some messages that I want to keep. 33, as a matter of fact, which gives me (I'll let you work out the math on your end first) one empty 'slot' for a txt message. So I end up checking my text messages immediately, when possible, to evaluate whether the new one makes my top 33 and, if so, which of my current list is going to get zapped.

Anyways, I got a random text message last night from an area code that appears to be in Ohio... as you're all aware, as a child I was forced to do 1000 situps and recite all of the area codes to my nanny before being allowed to go to sleep. And while I've let my abs get a little out of shape, I still keep up on my area codes, so I knew instantly the location of the message.

But I don't know anyone from Ohio, and, further, the message wasn't much help. It read:

OTA. OK.

That was all.I wish that I was actually curious when I received it, but I have walked too many days on this earth to approach anything unexpected as either a threat or a false alarm. "OTA OK" wasn't some sort of code that I'd won a million dollars, and it wasn't a shorthand message from some hot chick in Ohio that was interested in bedding me. (I'm sure both of those messages will be coming any day now, though...)

Fortuntately, Google exists. I did a search for "OTA OK text message" or something similar and I got links to a few pages that explained that it's a message from T Mobile confirming some sort of software update ("On The Air OK").

So I zapped it. My messages from November and Reno are still safe...

2. I might be calling British Columbia a bit over the next few weeks, and I called T Mobile to make sure that it wasn't going to be SUPER-expensive to call to BC. So I dialed "611" and after about 30 security questions the woman asked me what I'd like, and I asked how much it would cost me to call to British Columbia. I said that I had the area code if that would help.

She seemed friendly, but she didn't seem like she knew what she was talking about. I don't know why my instincts gave me that impression. Call it "Geek Intuition", but I had a bad feeling.

After a couple more questions that I don't even remember, she put me on hold for like 3 minutes. She then came back and asked me if I wanted to call from BC. I said, no, I wanted to call from my home area here in Seattle to BC. She put me on hold for like 30 seconds and came back and said that it would be $1.64 a minute.

Now, I'm no genius, but that seemed MORE than a bit high.

I asked if there was a plan I could get on for a discount, and she said, "No, the only countries we offer discounts to on calls are Canada, and--"

"But," I noted as I cut her off (politely but firmly), "I want to call British Columbia. British Columbia is in Canada."

So she went to put me on hold and I insisted that she take the area code this time.

Anyways, it was like twenty cents a minute, and I got on a plan for like $5 a month that reduces that to only 9 cents a minute.

But man, it was amazing how she took so long and knew so little. And yet: no, it's not.

Thank-you notes

I'm not a negative person, I don't think. I try not to dwell on bad things, I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt, and I really try to responsible and thankful for things.

But yesterday, when I was cleaning out my mailbox (I don't get much actual mail, but my mailbox is about 13 cubic inches, so I need to clean it out every day or else the crap I do get jams it all up), I pulled out a thank-you card.

It was a card from my cousin, to whom I'd given like $20 for her high school graduation last month. It was very sweet and responsible for her to do.

But my reaction? Unhappiness. Why, you might ask youself (as, indeed, I asked myself), would I have a negative reaction? After all, I like my cousin, and I am delighted to hear from her. I should have some pride that she's fulfilling the responsibility of sending out thank-you notes to people that gave her gifts.

I think that my unhappiness comes from my egocentricism... I didn't think right off the bat of how the card reflected on my cousin, but instead how it reflected on me. To wit, I had at least two branches of angst (light angst, clearly, but angst nevertheless):

1. Was $20 enough? Was I being cheap? Did her other cousins give her $40, and she just shook her head at the $20 in my card to her?, and

2. Why couldn't I have been able to send out thank-you notes? I was (and am) pretty lousy about that sort of thing, and getting one from her reminded me of all the people that might have expected thank-you notes from me but never received them.

Oh, well. Somehow I managed to get over the shock and tremendous stress induced by the thank-you note... I didn't even cry myself to sleep over it last night (I'd already scheduled that night for an entirely different matter).

I wonder if I should send a thank-you card for her thank-you card?

My Music

I forgot: if you're interested, you can listen to my music at http://www.myspace.com/edotunes

The lyrics are a bit depressing. Sorry if that bugs you. There are, to be honest, bigger problems with my voice and my guitar playing. :)

Weekend in Wisconsin

My brother turned 30 about 2.5 hours ago. As part of my efforts to make him feel a bit less ancient, I decided to fly out to Milwaukee, WI, and hang out. To show him that life doesn't end at 30. Of course, I might only show him that it definitely ends at some time before 32 years and 10 months.

Some highlights of the trip so far:

• It was 11:00 AM and I was in the airport. I had my book (Ballad of the Whiskey Robber ... good book so far) and a fantasy football magazine and I was ready to wait for the plane to board. But I was hungry, and the Burger King was so close... I'm not a huge BK guy, but there were only like 6 people in line, so I queued up. After the first couple of people were taken care of, someone approached the person two places ahead of me with the most feared phrases in the book (at least from the perspective of a hungry person in a slow-moving restaurant line): "Thanks for saving me a spot!" So whatever. Not a huge deal, right? One more person. Well... it wasn't just one person. It was FIVE FUCKING PEOPLE. There were only like 3 people behind that guy, and all five had to cut in front of us. And four of them paid for their own meals, so it wasn't even like they were all together. Total assholes. They also spoke with southern accents, which didn't help things. Interestingly, if they had spoken with British accent, I would have forgiven them. I'm an anglophile.


• My sister graciously picked me up from the airport, and we went to a friend's place. He works for Miller and was having a Miller-sponsored party at his apartment, which is on the ground floor of a complex very near a music festival called "Summer Fest". He had LITERALLY rolled out a red carpet (actually, that might not be quite true... someone had unfolded a red carpet; I'm not sure that HE did anything, and I'm not sure the carpet was unrolled). Anyways, there was velvet rope up and there was a stool near the opening of the rope where people (who we knew (actually who THEY knew; I only knew about 4 people in the state, so going by who I knew woulda been a bad move in terms of attendance)) could come and go. I was talking to a young woman (named after a Dr. Who character... the geek in me was thrilled with that) for some time, and I ended up sitting in that stool as the music festival was getting out. Well, predictably, people walked by and were wondering what was going on. Some asked what the cover was. Some took my standard "It's a private party. Invite only." line in stride and kept moving. One group of guys, though, had other ideas. There were four of them, and the first guy just walked right past me into the apartment like he knew what he was doing. The second one was a bit slower, and the third one looked kinda shifty and uncertain. The woman I was talking to and I looked at one another and contemplated whether we should, like, stop them. So after a moment, I stepped in front of the second guy and told him it was a private party and asked him to leave. I placed my hand on his lower back and started guiding him back away from the apartment. He gave me the classic "Push me again..." line, but I was able to steer him out and away without either of us feasting on knuckle sandwiches. The first guy was inside the apartment, probably trying to find a lady to rub up against, to get his hands on some free beer, or to give a critique of the apartment's decor. I approached him and let him know that it was a private party, and he looked me in the eye and gave... no expression. He'd been drinking a little bit, but he knew what he was doing. I sort of invaded his personal space and herded him out of the apartment, but he at onepoint stopped and I had to do the old "hand on the lower back" push, to which he (predictably) replied, "Push me one more time..." It's bizarre how his reaction was the exact same as his buddy's. It's also strange how there were like 10 guys who were SUPPOSED to be at the party standing around, and the only one who seemed to give a damn as to what was going on was me... and then my brother stepped in and eventually the guy turned tail. It wasn't overly tense, but it was the closest I've been to being in a fight since... hrm... like Tuesday. I'm always kicking ass over something.


• I enjoyed hanging out with the woman I talked to so much tonight. She lives near Chicago and I'll never see her again. Odd to think of it, but that's life.


• I think we might go golfing tomorrow. I talked a lot of smack about not being sore last time I played, and even though it'll only be nine holes I have a bad feeling about this...

Expect more exciting happenings from the Cheese State soon! (#1: Maybe not "more", since these happenings weren't exciting; #2: Is this the Cheese State? If not, it should be.)

Blazermania Returns to Seattle

I've been a fan of the Portland Trail Blazers for a LONG time. I've been watching them on TV and, occasionally, in person for as long as I can remember. I went to games as a kid with my dad, and I watched the Finals games against Detroit with my friends during some of the best days of my life (whoah... I was channeling Bryan Adams there for a second).

They've caused me an embarrassingly high amount of anguish when they've come up just short, or when they didn't live up to what I wanted from them.

But I remained a fan. Have discussed and argued about them online for about 12 years now. I even wrote a stats column for the team's official magazine for a year.

They had legal issues, and "character" stuff, but I didn't let it bother me. I watch them for the games. I'm not going to judge them as people or to blame them for their mistakes when speaking (many of them didn't even finish college, for crying out loud).

But about 2.5 years ago, they started getting bad. Really bad. They traded a couple critical players, who also happened to have acted like assholes. They reached in the draft for Sebastian Telfair. They traded away from Chris Paul.

Their decisionmaking aggravated me, they lost at a horrific rate. And I argued about the team. A lot.

Like, every day, I would argue about how bad the team was. About WHY they were so bad. I would argue against fellow Blazers fans that let their optimism blind them, and I was called some nasty names.

But I was right, and I maintained I was realistic rather than pessimistic.

Tonight, though, was the NBA draft. Portland traded Telfair for another high draft pick (to go with their own from their NBA-worst record).

And the Blazers made me happy.

They made six trades overall today, spending money and trading up and seemingly going in the right direction. I didn't agree with everything they did, but I liked it.

So I'm arguing again on the Blazers board tonight. Arguing that the team did well. Arguing that they've turned a corner and, while it's a ways off, the team is going to be good again. I'm arguing against people who are confused and disappointed in the team's actions. And I'm arguing against people who haven't seen the Ed O. from 3+ years ago, when I was happy to be a Blazers fan and I was optimistic about the team's chances.

It might be an overreaction and I might be all wrong in my analysis, but I feel good again about it all. Blazermania has returned for me, at least.

Creeping Death

On Saturday night (actually, Sunday morning), something terrible appeared on my LCD display. This LCD display that I use as my monitor at home is not new, and in fact it's a hand-me-down from a friend that's currently sailing somewhere in the South Pacific (sounds like I'm making that up, maybe, but it's Truth).

At work, I have three displays, which is great, but when I get home I'm used to having a single, old, display that doesn't resize pixels (so when I play games at resolutions other than 1280x1024 the graphics become centered in a gray frame). But it was free, and I can be cheap and indolent, so I've used this monitor for almost two years.

But now, I can see the end of its usefulness.

What appeared early in the morning of Sunday June 25, 2006? A little black spot in the upper left corner. I've stared at this display for hours (days... weeks) and while the spot was small, it stuck out immediately, and I weeped, for I knew where this was headed.

The black spot appears to be moving and spreading down and to the left. This morning it had moved out of the corner (almost entirely... some sort of pixel vapor trail remains, marring the once-pristine display portion) and there is a rather large black circle sitting there now. It's about an inch or so in diameter, and it covers up a few menu items in IE.

I doubt it's going to go away of its own volition, and I don't think that I can fix it, and I think it's just the end of the road. I'll hold on as long as I can, but ... *sniff*

Rage building...

I've played guitar for a pretty long time. I started in like 1993 with a crappy guitar, which was good since I was a crappy player. I learned to play some chords and eventually could strum and sing at the same time. I eventually got higher-quality guitars and would goof around with them every once in a while.

Fast forward to me now. I still am pretty crappy with the instrument, especially given how long I've played.

But a couple months ago, I decided that I was going to take my meager guitar skills, I was going to use my untrained and uneven singing voice, and I was going to use a cheap mic and some free software I downloaded from the Web (legally, natch) to record some songs in my apartment. You know, for fun.

Weeks passed. Nothing was recorded. I wrote down some "lyrics" but those were entirely absent of any sort of musical underpinning and were (to be honest) more me whining than anything particularly creative.

Last week, I looked around my apartment and had nothing to do, so I picked up my guitar and I started fiddling (as normal) but then it suddenly came to me: I had to write and record a song. Like, right THEN.

So I gave myself three hours. The song that I'd been playing around with (Teenage Fanclub's "Don't Look Back", from their excellent Grand Prix disc... I just turned it on as I'm typing this after thinking about it) calls for (at least as I play it) a capo on the third fret, so I started playing around with chords there, settled on something simple, wrote some lyrics and recorded something. All within three hours.

I wasn't happy with the way I sang the chorus. I wasn't happy with how short it was nor with just HOW simple it was. But it was a good first attempt. I sent it to a friend to get his feedback (leaving his name off, so he won't get blamed if/when it's unleashed on the world) and he liked it. Or at least confirmed that it didn't totally, totally suck.

So a couple nights later I made another one. A bit over three hours. Not quite the energy of the first one, but a little more complicated and I was getting my feet under me a bit more with the editing process.

I've shared the two songs with some friends, who have all been supportive and seemed to have genuinely liked them. Getting over the hurdle of some people close to me hearing my attempts was big for me, and I decided to put them up on MySpace, at least for a while, just to overcome a bit more discomfort/fear in my life.

I created a MySpace music account and uploaded them on Wednesday, expecting a 24 hour delay. Here I am, 48 hours later, and the songs still don't load.

Goddammit.

I'm eager to get them posted and available soon because I'm still really nervous about anyone hearing them, and I fear that I'm going to lose my nerve because of MySpace technical delays.

But they'll be up, for better or for worse. Eventually.