Category: life

A.C. and I went hiking last Sunday, on what was supposed to be a two hour, 6.8 mile loop around Loch Raven north of Baltimore. Of course, it was a total debacle thanks to Bryan Mackay, author of Baltimore Trails, who is officially no longer my friend.

Soon after beginning the hike a few things became apparent: the trail is not blazed, and Mackay has done a craptacular job of indicating which way to go. At least three forks in the trail passed without comment, so we had to backtrack a time or two, including one unfortunate half-mile side-trip ending at an abandoned campfire and a newspaper dispenser.

The point at which A.C. likely gave up hiking for good came at the 4 mile mark, where we are advised that the only ways to continue are to go back the way we came, take a two mile death-defying road detour, or walk across a shallow river along some near-pebbles strewn far and wide. We elected to do the balancing act, and while neither of us fell in, our collective nimbleness was tested far too often. I’ll stick to bridges, thanks. A much easier crossing point, several hundred yards upstream, again was omitted.

All the same, I did get some half decent snapshots of the dam and the lake. And we made it back to the car just before the sun disappeared, which is always a plus.

As promised, here is another installment of My Kitchen Hates Me. Since last update, some doors have been added to the high cabinets and they have entered actual use; most of the base cabinets are in place and just need to be leveled and mounted to the wall; the pantry is ready to go; the trim was painted white and looks really nice. Still remaining: I need to get a vent hood and possibly cut down the appropriate cabinet so that the hood will fit over the existing hole, buy a countertop, move two base cabinets over about 4 inches so that a drawer will open fully instead of hitting the door molding, attach cover panels and kickplates and doors and drawers. So, most of the hard work is done.

When I get an ETA on the countertop install, I’ll start planning a welcome-back-to-my-house party as only the brave have ventured in since… how many years has it been since I started this project? Dave, you’ll have to drive down from Philly (and bring some cheesesteaks).

In other news, A.C. and I and a bunch of others went kayaking on the Potomac. I now regret not having tried that much earlier. It’s a lot easier than my previous kayaking expedition, which I spent the whole time calculating how quickly I could pull my skirt and how many ways I would die if I didn’t. Kayaking the Potomac is a breeze, like those pedal boats but not as cheesy.

Last weekend saw the debut of my cowor-ker’s new rock band, the 15th Annual Rosslyn Jazz fest, GT vs UNC — watched at Mister Days, and lots of work on my kitchen. My goal was to complete the kitchen cabinets on Sunday; I didn’t, but I did at least finish hanging all of the wall cabinets. So if I get the base cabinets finished this week I can go buy a countertop. Expect a kitchen pictorial update soon.

I have also made some progress on my Karma reverse-engineering project. It is taking longer than I had hoped since I have had to learn all sorts of esoteric kernel stuff, but now one can, if one is bold and doesn’t mind kernel deadlocks or huge memory leaks, mount and read the files from the Karma. Neat.

Since the last update, I’ve had my new appliances delivered, painted the ceiling, put together and hung a few of the cabinets, and redid the plumbing on my hot water sink line to accomodate my dishwasher (this last involved me getting soaked with warm water four times before I figured out how to attach a compression valve). So, things are coming along. The cabinets, as pictured, show the interior; once finished they will be the darker wood color on the outside.

Now I just need to finish the cabinets, buy a countertop, and I’m good to go.

I painted my kitchen. It’s gray, not purple. Or so I tell myself.

I am usually rather obsessive about checking that my keys and wallet are on my person when leaving a building, room, chair, or any given two-square-foot area. This fact makes it all the more annoying that all my faculties broke down yesterday, such that I found myself in Reston, with my keys in Crystal City, wondering how to get home without being able to start or even enter my car.

Great ideas usually come to me when faced with such adversities. Yesterday I had only lousy ones, so I decided to walk home from the Park & Ride. It is only 4.5 miles or so, but I was in work shoes, long pants, had my backpack, and it was 124.3 degrees outside. The W&OD bike path is probably as close to a straight shot as one can wish for, so I set out on a journey, not unlike the Incredible Journey, though maybe a lower budget version without pets and Michael J. Fox. Here is how it broke down by the mile markers:

• 17 – A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
• 17.5 – Clearly, the mile markers need to be recalibrated, for I’ve certainly
  walked several miles by this point. Worked out a strategy for getting to work the next day without a cab ride or 4.5 mile walk.
• 18 – Visited first 7-11. No salad dressing to be found. Bought blue Gatorade.
• 19 – Rabbit.
• 19.5 – Visited second 7-11. Bought salad dressing.
• 20.5 – Local band plays “American Band” and “Pride and Joy” as I walk by, as part of a Thursday night concert series. Herndon has a Thursday night concert series?
• 21 – Walked into a tree.

Then I broke into my house and collapsed.

I think it would be nice to get a contract law degree on the side, because I hate signing forms whose sole purpose is to screw me over legally. And the most dreadful of these: the waiver. I understand that these are even questionable legally, and yet I still get anxious when putting my Johnny H on the bottom of some form that says Company X has the right to do anything they would like including harvesting my organs and using my house for parties while I recuperate, whilst I am legally bound to sit there and take it. Screw that!

Recently, I had to fill out a waiver for an upcoming softball tournament. They helpfully sent it to us as a Word document for us to print out and sign. I can’t pass up such an inviting opportunity to take back some rights. Where I supposedly declared my absolution of all guilt on behalf of the organizer, I slipped in a few words that make the whole waiver rather useless to them (“unless the undersigned agrees…”). Then, just to make sure no one was reading it, I made the following additional edits:

I further understand that consumption of alcoholic beverages will be monitored and if necessary, police officers may assist in escorting any overly intoxicated individual off the premises
became:
I further understand that consumption of alcoholic beverages will be monitored and if necessary, police officers may assist in intoxicating any overly escorted individual off the premises.

And:

[the risks] include those foreseen and unforseen, known and unknown
became:
[the risks] include those foreseen and unforseen, in universes known and unknown.

Minor edits that I doubt anyone will read anyway, but it will be nice if I can compel the local police to help me get drunk.

Yay, I have a new horizontal surface!

Angeline and I spent yesterday afternoon in the home of Will Smith and Benjamin “DJ Bizzy” Franklin: Philadelphia, PA. Unfortunately I forgot my camera, so you don’t get any pictures. This being my first visit to Philly, we had to go see the large, bronze, cracked…hot steamy bread with gooey cheesy meat and onions … where was I? Oh yes, the Liberty Bell. So we looked at the bell, then headed off for lunch.

After much research we decided to try out Jim’s on 4th and South for an authentic bite. Much has been said by Philly natives about how there is something special about their sandwiches that can’t be duplicated in any other place, but I think this is mostly bunk. That said, Jim’s may well have taken the top spot on my list. The differentiating factor is mainly the rolls, and Jim doesn’t disappoint on that score.

After lunch, we hit the Rodin museum. Here you can see one of the casts of The Thinker, the Gates of Hell, and lots of hands and people in uncomfortable somersault embraces. Victor Hugo figures prominently. And there’s a walrus-looking thing by some lesser sculptor, too.

Anyway, Philadelphia is a nice city and worth the occasional three hour drive. I’m sure I’ll be back sometime this year.