The Electric Wire

Time to add some new links to the 'Worth Your Time" section.

Firstly, my dear deranged roommate has decided to take the plunge and has started a Blog o' his own. And he's doing it in comicstrip form. I kid ye not-- our man Hale is creating is own comicstrip to detail the details of his life. So get three to Prentice Hale and make all the requisite "oohs" and "aaahhhs" at his majesty.

Elsewhere in the Internet cesspool, Pete's fiance CJ has equally invested herself of this thing they call Livejournal and is using it well. Well, lately she's using it to post those ubiquitous internet quizes that tell you what type of person/flower/TV show/sex toy/equinox/gemstone/orifice you are. But who am I to judge? I'm still amused by YetiSports. So enough about me--go visit the Highlands and see whether or not she writes about me!

However, as you astute Wire-Readers have undoubtedly noticed, there is one link missing from my nifty little side-bar: For while I am sure that, somewhere in the world, it is indeed Miller time, that time ain't here. Don't get me wrong--I love my Miller--but when the bastard hasn't updated his blog since November 21 . . . well, the Internet is a harsh, harsh mistress. If you don't attend to her, then she won't attend to you.

Now go read them. So it is written, so shall it be done!

Yes, folks, you can call off the troops; Your DT's can stop; your lives have meaning again: The Electric Wire is (obviously) back online.

We apologize for the inconvience; webhosting problems resulted in the last 36 hours of downtime. My many thanks to the dilligent team at Dreamhost for getting my lovely blog up and running.

The Wire can now resume its (ab)normal semi-regular service.

Now, if only Blogger will magically un-delete my Baltimore: Part Two post.....

Otherwise you spend two hours writing "Part Two" of my Baltimore trip only to have it magically disappear when you try and post it to your blog. Which, of course isn't being shown anyway because my web hosting service is having sever problems. Which doesn't matter because now Blogger is taken ten years to edit any of my posts. Which doesn't matter either because with my ISP cutting me off every five minutes it's not like I can stay online long enough to expect a page to load.

I fucking hate right now. Fucking hate.

Dream

Dream a little dream. Sweet dreams (are made of these). I can dream about you. Do you dream about me? Dream lover (Dream, lover). All I have to do is dream. Daydream beliver. California Dreaming. I've got dreams to remember. Get out of my dreams. Just another dream. Only in my dreams. When I was dreaming. These dreams. In your wildest dreams. How do we hang on to a dream? Dream on.


"Show me, show me, show me
how you do that trick.
The one that makes me scream" she said
"The one that makes me laugh" she said
And threw her arms around my neck
"Show me how you do it
And I promise you
I promise that
I'll run away with you
I'll run away with you"

Spinning on that dizzy edge
I kissed her face and kissed her head
And dreamed of all the different ways
I had to make her glow
"Why are you so far away?" she said
"Why won't you ever know
that I'm in love with you
That I'm in love with you"

You--
Soft and only
You--
Lost and lonely
You--
Strange as angels
Dancing in the deepest oceans
Twisting in the water
You're just like a dream

Daylight licked me into shape
I must have been asleep for days
And moving lips to breathe her name
I opened up my eyes
And found myself alone alone
Alone above a raging sea
That stole the only girl I loved
And drowned her deep inside of me

You--
Soft and only
You--
Lost and lonely
You--
Just like heaven

-----"Just Like Heaven", The Cure

This is PART TWO. If you're reading this before reading Part One then scroll down and read that first! Otherwise you will be hopelessly confused, experiencing events out of their natural order, causing the Timestream will collapse upon itself in a paradox of Donnie Darko-eqsue proportions--and it will all be your fault!

If you have already read Part One, then keep reading, assured in the knowledge that Order has been restored to the Timestream. Just don't pay any attention to Frank.

(oh, and get compfy; this is a real long one)

Saturday

Saturday began around 10:30 with Jen and Jason picking me up for breakfast. We kept it simple, going to a local Denny's not far from the observation park. What obversation park, you ask? Why the Obversation Park is an area just across the street from BWI Airport where you can watch the planes coming in for a landing.

It was pretty cool to see them come in, even though the weather was, as you can tell from the picture, just a smidge overcast. In fact, at one point it was raining quite heavily. But Jason is very much the aviation buff; he even has a portable scanner that he can tune into the airport Tower so he knows when the planes are coming in. As we huddled in the car, we could hear the tower discuss thw weather and that it would pass in a few minutes. Sure enough, it did.

then we almost got arrested. See, the observation park is really nothing more than a parkinglot. The fields are all off limits. But the "no tresspassing" signs are all posted a good five or six feet in from the start of the field. This holds true of the nearby road. Apparently Jason and Jen thought this meant that as long as you stand on the field ahead of the sign, you aren't tresspassing; they had done it on earlier trips and so planned to take me to their favorite spot--a place where you can watch the planes pass directly overhead. But no sooner had we begun walking along the road than a transit cop pulled up asking us where we were going. Seems that just because the signs are posted six feet infield doesn't mean the boundry starts six feet in, after all. So one quick detour later and we were back in the safety zone, free from police molestation. On the bright side, we took one of the hiking trails the area has to another spot where the planes pass directly overhead. While not as close as we had hoped, it was still a pretty cool sight to see.

After killing an hour or so at the park, and with the weather clearing up considerably, we headed into Baltimore proper, specifically Fells Point, an area of Baltimore close to the habor with lots of very old buildings. It reminded me a lot of the Historic district in Philly, actually. By then the weather had cleared up considerably. We walked around for a while, enjoying the scenery and checking out some shops. We were soon joined by Susan, yet another lunatic from Fiberconn whom I was looking forward to meeting. We walked around some more and then decided to sit down at an outside table of The Green Turtle, a small bar in Fells Point. We had a light lunch, as by then it was already 3:30, and after an hour or so decided it was time to head downtown. By then the sky had clouded up again and the temperature had dropped noticeably.

No sooner did we make it back to the parking garage than the sky opened up and a torrential downpour started. As we drove through the city streets we were amazed at the thunder and the lightening in a storm that came out of nowhere. Then, just as we entered the parking garage, the storm ceased as suddenly as it started and the skys parted again.

At this point we were down by the Inner Harbor area, part of the bay that has become all nice and touristy. there were two small indoor malls that we walked around to kill some time. We even stopped off at Fudgery to watch the Fudge show. It's a well known fudge store where they perform occasional song and dance routines to the delight of all. Apparently Cisqo used to work there. From Fudge to Thong in so little time; who knew.

This was the point where the trip started to lag a bit. I think it was just a matter of poor timing. We hadn't really figured on how much time Fells Point would take, and I think it was finished sooner than expected. Plus, we had figured we'd take the Water Taxi's around the harbor and visit other areas as well, but scrapped that idea because of the weather. (This, of course, proved incredibly prophetic a decision given that one of the water taxi's capcized in the middle of the mid-afternoon storm, killing five people.) So we wound up with a fairly large chunk of time that we didn't have anything planned for, so we settled for walking around the Inner Harbor, which was nice but, ultimately, just walking around and window shopping.

Dinner improved slightly, where we were joined by Schenelle, another Fiberconn co-worker, her boyfirned Elliot, and their year-old daughter, and Matt, one of Jason's friends. We had originall planned to eat at the Cheesecake Factory, but by the time we went to put our name down--an hour before we were all to meet for dinner--there was already a three to three-and-a-half hour wait. So we settled on a Pizzeria Uno's instead. Not exactly unique Bo-more fair, but at least they only had a forty minute wait. Dinner was all right, and after that Schenelle and Elliot bid adieu as Schenelle was only 19 and could go to Power Plant Live! with us.

We started off our journey at How At the Moon, a giant piano bar that Jen had raved about. The gimmick is the bar has two piano players that take requests. The concept is a sound one: you get a bunch of goofy friends around, you sit near the piano and sing along to the songs and have a grand old time. And the piano players have an unearthly knowledge of songs at their disposal, and are also very good showmen who do all they can to bring the bar patrons into the show. Unfortunately, it didn't quite turn out that way for us. Again, it was a matter of poor timing: we had arrived at the bar around 8:30--incredibly early for a Saturday night. The abr was already packed, which was good, but it meant the only table available to us was all the wayin the back, where we couldn't see the pianos. I think that, combined by post-meal lethargy, not to mention being tired from walking around all damn day, left us all very quiet and lethargic. to be honest, I was beginning to wonder if the night was going to be a dud.

We stayed at "Howl" for an hour, during which Matt made the sagacious observation that the club is a lot different when you're sober, and I learned that while Ben Fold Five's "Song for the Dumped" is a rocking tune, it should not be performed when you're the only person in the bar who thinks so. So after an hour or so we decided to leave for other pastures. By this point Susan wasn't feeling very well and called it a night--at 9:30--and so it was down to the four of us--me, Jen, Jason, and Matt, to pass the evening away.

Fortunately, things became significantly better once we hit the other clubs. We first went to Bar Baltimore which was your average modern club, but with its loud bass and throngs of party-goers, our spirits were livened instantly. We stayed their for about an hour, dancing about and feeling much more energized. 9This includes Jason almost getting into a fight with a guy that was getting a little too friendly when he danced with Jen; fortunately once the guy realized he was dancing with someone's wife he apologized and backed off. Still, an interesting moment to be sure.) We stayed at Bar Baltimore for about an hour, then decided to head over to the Have a Nice Day Cafe.

This was when the evening really kicked into high gear--for me at least, as I was finally in a club with music that was more to my tastes. Also, by then Jen, Jason, and Matt had a couple of beers in them so everyone was much more loose and peachy-keen. Here: look
at
these
seven
pictures
we
took.

That last shot, by the way, is me doing my infamous "Muppet dance" to The Ramone's "I wanna Be sedated". There is a video clip. Be nice and I might post it.

Anyway, by 1:00 we were all pretty tired, especially having just danced for the last three and a half hours straight. So at that point we called it a night. Jen and Jason dropped me off at the hotel just before 2:00.

And that was it. I got up the next morning, had breakfast, and was on the road by 10:30. I stopped off at my folks by 1:00, planning to spend the day there, but was so exhausted I knew I wouldn't last long, so I left after a bit and was home by mid-afternoon. The rest you know.

So it was a damn fun trip. Jen and Jason were incredibly nice people, and I give them all the credit in the world for spending their entire weekend with me, not to mention doing all the driving. I trully hope to get together with them again, maybe even have them come up to my neck of the woods so I can return the favor.

But there you are. This entry has rambled long enough. If there's anyone still awake, feel free to ask questions.

Yes, believe it or not, I will actually talk about my trip to Baltimore.

Friday
I left work at 12:30, bought some last-minute items for the trip, filled up the gas tank, and was officially on the road by 1:06 PM. The ride down was fairly easy. It was raining in Jersey but was pretty clear by the time I hit Delaware. I made excellent time, getting to the hotel a little after 4:00. I unpacked, relaxed, changed shirts, and Jennifer picked me up at 5:30.

We drove over to this giant mall, it reminded me a lot of the mall in West Nyack. It was there that we ate dinner at this place called Rememo, or was it Meremo? I dunno. I forget the name--and it wasn't too memorable anyway but I'll get to that.

At any rate, at first it was just Jen and I, but after 6:00 we were joined by Jay, one of the other people in Fiberconn I talk with often. Very nice guy. Also very quiet, and Jen took great delight in making him blush. Soon after that Jen's husband Jason joined us, and the last to arrive was Jen's friend Kathy.

Kathy, it turns out, is good friends with this guy Rob that tracy dated several years back. It was very surreal connecting the dots: first her mentioning she knows people in jersey, then realizing she knows people from my area, people who used to perform in Rocky Horror. It figures: I drive 200 miles and wind up meeting someone who hangs out just around the block from where I live. (I didn't tell her that Rob wasn't the best of boyfriends to Tracy, and given that she's good friends with the guy, I think I can be forgiven for that.)

At any rate Jay had to leave because of prior commitments--and the fact that he lived an hour away from Fiberconn. So it was Jen, Jason, Kathy and I for dinner, which was a bit dissapointing. The food was OK, but incredibly small portions that were indirectly proportional to the price of said food. But this is hardly the worst thing to happen so life went on.

From there we went to Jillians, and the best way I can describe Jillians is to think of Dave & Busters but instead of a sports-bar, it's more clubbish. It has video games, a bar, a bowling alley, pool tables, and two night clubs. Very fun place. The four of us played Hyperball, which is a sort of virtual bowling; only instead of a bowling lane, you have to navigate the bowling ball through city streets. We chose San Fransisco. Now, you have to imagine: the way you play the game is you roll a bowlingball-sized rollerball. And of course it's all proprotional to the things you see on a view screen. So imagine rolling a bowlingball up and down the streets of San Fransisco for about an eigth of a mile and then still make sure to knock down ten pins. This is the game we played. Needless to say it was highly amusing, espeically as the pins were at the top of a large hill so by the 8th frame it was a struggle just to get the ball up there, never mind hitting the pins.

After that we jumped around a bit. we played some racing games, some shooting games. Jen and Kathy played this Firefighter game--it's your basic first-person shoother arcade game (a la Houses of the Dead or Area 51) Only you have a fire hose. So here were two young, attractive women working a hose. If you have trouble imagining this, let me help you out.

I also wound up wasting lots o' money on those claw machines. there was a Garfield doll that looked easy to get, and I succeeded in grabbing it after two or three tries. And on that last try, not only did it pick up the Garfield doll, but also a little stuffed baseball player. Well, the stuffed baseball player made it through the chute, but the Garfield got caught on the glass; thus it became a matter of pride to get it. It took four or five more tires, but I got it. Kathy got the Garfield and Jen took the baseball player to give to her daughter who's apparently starting softball this Spring.

After about two hours we went to one of Jillian's clubs, the Groove Lounge, I believe. It was pretty empty seeing how it just opened up, but Jen and Kathy were out on the dance floor. And let me tell you: Jen can dance. This girl moves her body and swishes and sways and it's just mezmerizing. I swear to you, she's so sexy when she dances that she'd give a corpse a hard-on. I just turned to Jason and shook his hand.

Anywhoo, after Jason (who's dancing skills, by his own admission, are directly inversely proportional to his wife's) got on the dance floor for a bit, we decided to head elsewhere. In this case, elsewhere was The Cancun Cantina. I wouldn't say it's a "hick bar/club" per se, although the fact that the cover charge on a Friday night was only three bucks--and the main room was reserved for country music/dancing--certainly gave it that air. But it actuyally was pretty cool. they played some modern dance stuff, but then this cover band came on and they were quite good, and extremely ecclectic. I never heard a rock-n-roll cover of "Play that Funky Music White Boy", but they did it well, nonetheless.

We left the Cantina a little after 12:30, calling it a night in preparation and expecatation of a long, late Saturday. Which you can read about in Part Two of this lovely travelogue. So scroll up, dammit! Scroll UP!

Er, "Blog".

After much hemming and hawing and a disgusting amount of pestering on my part, the wonderful and talented Christine Cheplic has started her own blog. She's two entries in and they're both pure gold. It's choc full of ruminations, pop culture references, philosophical insight, satire, social commentary, and self-deprication I trully hope she keeps up with it.

Get thee with the clickery:

The Basement of the Alamo

You'll must all read and bask in the glory that is her Brain. Well, either that or run away screaming in terror. It's a win-win scenario for her, really.

Blech.

I have a cold. It's not ALL Baltimore's fault. Leaving my window open overnight while it's raining/snowing probably didn't help. But had I gotten even one decent night of sleep in the last, oh, year this probably could have been avoided.

So I sit and snuffle and sneeze. And I have some pictures to edit so I shall keep this brief as, for the third night in a row, I plan to be in bed by 11:00.

I can't believe I'm going to bed by 11:00 for the third night in a row. My body is simultaneously dying from exhaustion and jumping for joy at the prospect of eight hours sleep.

Needless to say, however, that work on the Vendetta Visual Timeline has ground to a halt. I'm hoping to get back on the damn thing by Thursday. Place bets.

And I will talk about my Baltimore trip soon. Probably tomorrow. I almost want to wait until Jen sends me the pictures she and her husband Jason took. I'd like to post photos to go along with my recap. Jen's been sending me the more incriminating ones at the office, and they're an absolute riot; I can't wait to see the rest. But I have a feeling I may not got the CD of their pictures until next week and we all know there's a very small statue of limitations on when I give up recapping any event and just move on.

So:

I have one more post to make (that I save for last so it can be first--ironic, isn't it--it's like strategic posting for blogs. Yeesh.

Anyway, one more entry, then the photos, and then to bed.

I don't like this going to bed early thing. I feel waaaaay too old doing it.

Craig

I have to run and do laundry, so, jusdt to prove I do intended to blog about my Baltimore trip, I give you the following picture, subtitled "Craig and his Bitches":





Left to right: Susan, Jennifer, myself, Schenelle.

More to, er, come.

Yes, I am back. Back for almost an hour and a half now. I should still be at my parents, killing time before going to dinner for my Granma's birthday, but I was too damn tired to stick around. So I got back here around 3:30 . . . I think. It's 4:45 now... I thought I left my folks a quarter after 2:00 . . . no, wait, closer to 2:30. Fuck, I'm so damn tired I can't even keep track of time.

(Obviously my time management issues have not been helped by this weekend.)

The point is, I am back, and I had a ton of fun while I was down there. It wasn't the utter "semen-on-the-walls" kind of time I was expecting--for one thing, Sue (one of the women who works at Firberconn that I was going down to hang out with) wasn't feeling too well and she left early in the evening. And none of Jen's friends came out to party (except for Kathy, who joined us for a while on Friday but also bailed early) so it was mostly me, Jen, her husband Jason, and his friend Matt. But what we lacked in group size we made up for in spirit.

I will detail more later. I hope. You know me and details. Suffice to say there is a disgusting amount of blackmail photos, both of Jen and Jason and of (gulp) me. Like I joked with them last night, I'm already mentally sorting between the ones I'll show my co-workers, the ones I won't show them but will show my friends, and the ones that will never see the light of day again.

But, yes. Ready to collapse. The beauty of utter exhaustion means that I'll probably get my first decent nights sleep in about a year and a half.

And I'll get to details tomorrow or something.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!