Ash the Mighty

Blargh.

I have PlagueFlu. I am a sniffly and coughy and just generally disgusting mess. I’ve been this way all weekend, and today I tried to go to work and was sent home by my boss’s boss (who I was supposed to have a 1 on 1 with today) because I sounded like the Spectre of Death out of some sort of bad horror film. Yes, I sound that terrifically awful.

So now 1 on 1 has been rescheduled and I am waiting for sheets to be done drying (I had put them in the washer before leaving for work) so I can go back to my lovely new bed. DID I MENTION NEW BED?!? Tempur-Pedic Classic (low end but still awesomely awesome), which takes a bit of getting used to but I’m already sleeping soooo much better than I have in years!

WHY WON’T THE STUPID SHEETS FINISH DRYING!?!?! I just wanna sleeeeeeeeeep . . . . . . . .

~A.

Yule Ruminations

Yeah, I said Yule. I don’t usually bother making a distinction because, well, most people wouldn’t even notice. But I had a hell of a surprise on Christmas Eve. Let me tell you briefly about it.

First let me say that I had to work all week. ALL week. And on Christmas Eve, the BossMan sent home everyone except for yours truly, so for three hours I was handling everything on my own (when a similar department was handling about half as much traffic with 4 people, if that gives you an idea as to how bad an idea that was). SO, after that fiasco, I got back in my “Service Engine Soon” car (did I mention that it started displaying that on my way to work that day? Yeah, fun times), and drove to Uncle Brad and Aunt Janet’s house for our traditional Night Before Christmas meal and White Elephant gift exchange.

Before dinner, we went around the table and were meant to tell what we were all thankful for. Right before me, my Uncle Brad kinda cut in and started rambling on about how it wasn’t REALLY Baby Jesus’ birthday, that that was in fact in the summer, that this was just a Pagan holiday . . . “Oh, but Ash would know all about that. Tell us.” So I said something along the lines of:

“Back in the day, Pagans all over the world held festivals and ceremonies on the longest night of the year wherein they exhorted their gods and nature to bring back the Sun. So I guess I would have to say that’s what I’M most thankful for. For this turning point. Let the sun; let the happy, good, and bright times come again in this coming New Year.”

For the first time my family looked at me like they understood a little bit why I counted myself a polytheist. And while it was mostly drunken fun (did I ALSO forget to mention that part of this tradition is the consumption of at least one LARGE bottle of Sambuca? Best line of the night: “I don’t have to brush my teeth for like THREE DAYS!”), many of the attendees still called the holiday Yule for the rest of the night rather than Christmas. Because celebrating the hope of the coming of better times seems so much more important than the arbitrary (and false) celebration of the birth of a demi-god.

Just thought I’d share . . .

~A.

Do you expect any less of me, really?

Vegas pictures are up. And at just a biscuit over a hundred. Hey, you should be proud of me! I whittled that number down from WELL over two-hundred and fifty! Granted, the last twenty or so were of my parent’s and their new dog, taking Christmas card pictures after we had gotten back, but still! I cut it in half.

You’re welcome.

So they’re available for your viewing pleasure in two formats. One is a new javascript-enabled format which I’ve been playing with for about a month now which I dig. That version is available here. Unfortunately, this kind of gallery has a few bugs however and can be a bit arduous to work with so I’ve been keeping my eyes open for a replacement. I had thought I had found that replacement in a Flash gallery which you can see here. Alas I have discovered that it isn’t nearly as flexible as I thought it would be and can also be a memory hog, so make sure you close the window after you’re done with it or you might find FireFox/IE/whatever crashing.

Anyway. While we’re talking, I may as well announce that I’ve also been designing a new site to bring together all of my disparate photography projects under one roof. It’s called BlackHole Photography. I still am not done deciding how it’s really going to look and feel. Call what’s up there Alpha. Soon I hope to move on to Beta testing.

Now I should really go eat. Cheerios at 9am isn’t doing it for me when it’s almost 7pm.

Hope all is well . . .

~A.

Back.

This’ll be short as I am currently just killing time at my Mom’s computer waiting for my photos to download via an INSANELY slow USB 1.0 card reader onto her computer. Whatev. Still faster than zipping all of the 200 plus 5.5Mb files and uploading them for her to download.

Anyway. Well, I’m back. The flight was late but otherwise uneventful. I don’t recall where I leftoff before but I’ll just re-iterate that I had a truly great time and I’ve got very few regrets about the entire thing. In fact, I’m gonna cross post this on MySpace just for fun and because USB 1.0 continues to infuriate.

Well, once this is done I’ll be off home where my normal card reader will make considerably shorter work and tomorrow I’ll be whittling the 200 files down to a much more manageable amount. I’ll announce when and where, but they’ll eventually be made available. Some of them are OK. Some are awful (I was drinking, after all. A LOT.), and some will be going in my portfolio because they are TEH SEX.

And I’m out.

~A.

Two Days Later…

Well, here I am waiting for my breakfast a couple of days later in a “coffee shop” off the casino in Planet Hollywood called Planet Dailies (DC wouldn’t license “Daily Planet?”). It’s a lovely place though like everywhere in Vegas, I would choke on the prices if I were at home. Eh. It’s vacation.

Mom and I have had a BLAST this far, though other than our occasional meal at the Planet, we’ve been avoiding our hotel. It appears there’s a cheer competition of some sort and so there are roughly ten trillion tween girls running around chanting cheers to themselves with mothers chasing after them freaking out. It was funny. For a while.

So instead we’ve wandered. A lot. Hit a bunch of different casinos and lost considerably more than we’ve won, which is again the point. I’ve truly realized that there is such a place as a PIRATE THEMED CASINO/HOTEL (!!!!!) which I didn’t truly grasp, but I don’t think I’d ever stay there as I didn’t get the enjoyable vibe off of it that I have off of other places.

Ah! Food! More later!!

~A.

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Let’s get this road on the show!

I am a true study of that creature, Internet geek — 29 (!), overweight, goateed, with long hair, sitting crosslegged on the ground, hunched over a gadget and typing furiously. The fact that it’s a trendy iPhone probably doesn’t mitigate my nerdiness much in the eyes of any women-folk nearby.

It’s good though. It’s good. I’m on the ground of an airport terminal and I’m only typing to let you all know that I’m getting ready to go be reunited with someone I care very dearly for… Your money. Yes, your money. All that money you have dropped over the years in Vegas I will soon be joined with. They will renamed the hotel Planet Ash the Mighty. And no, you can’t have a gift. I have very reasonable loan rates however…

Just thought you should know…

~A.

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Well Happy Effing Birthday.

This weekend I was supposed to go to Las Vegas for the second time in my adult life for a weekend of fun and debauchery. It was largely self-funded with money I had been managing to squirrel away here and there for just such an occasion over the past several YEARS (literally).

Then, over the weekend, I got in a fight with my . . . traveling companion . . . and all of a sudden Vegas is a maybe. A fucking maybe. This morning that maybe turned into a definite no. Yeah, the reason turned from ridiculous into legit (which ironically enough makes me feel like a total bastard for feeling pissed off about this whole thing . . .), but by the same token, I’m still the one who is out HUNDREDS OF DOLLLARS, who will be sitting at home alone for my birthday trip — or alternatively will be in VEGAS alone on my birthday trip, and am just generally fucked — AGAIN — on my birthday.

Christ.

Seriously.

How often can this happen?

Let’s see how many people who SHOULD remember don’t (hint: it’s actually not this weekend).

~A.

Gods, that’s just sick.

So Bernard Madoff, a very famous Wall Street investor and ex-NASDAQ head has been screwing everyone he knew for the past 30 plus years. He’s run a hedge fund which it turns out has just been nothing more than a pyramid scheme (which to be honest I’ve always kindof felt most hedge funds are just a step away from being a pyramid scheme waiting to happen anyway) and it just all came crashing down in the last day or so (his sons apparently turned him in which is awesome). Unlike most white collar crime where the there are issues with determining intent versus idiocy, etc, apparently the guy has totally admitted that it was all a great big “ponzi scheme” and has come clean. So good for him. I guess. Sorta.

BUT, here’s the effing sick part.

The BBC’s article on the whole thing, towards the bottom, talks about how he had planned to turn himself in — noble right? — after he had used his last $200m-$300m to pay “select employees, family and friends”. This is $300 of other people’s money, remember. Then the article goes on to say that if he was found guilty, Madoff would face ” . . . up to 20 years in prison and a fine of up to $5m.”

While 20 years is no good for a 70 year old, and while it’s a different environment now, I’m not sure that he’d really see any jail time, as evidenced by good ol’ Scooter and his sublime proof that power and money means that old white people don’t go to jail for breaking the law. And $5 million dollar fine? When the bastard was just gonna throw $300 million at family and friends?

I just want to vomit. Seriously.

~A.

For those about to rock . . .

FIRE!!!

Last night I went to see one of the most amazing shows I’ve ever seen in my no-longer-quite-so-short life. AC/DC more than proved that even though they are well past what most would consider the age at which they should hang up their guitars and retire, they are still mother-fucking ROCKING. Something I have to admit I find amusing is that when this show was announced and the admittedly steep ticket price was revealed (a biscuit shy of a c-note a piece), I got no end of crap from almost everyone I knew for immediately buying tickets. Walking around today with my new AC/DC lanyard, I was stopped both in work and at the convenience store by both friends and random strangers asking about the show and lamenting the fact that they couldn’t get the tickets. The thing had sold out. How cool is that?

So this post is incredibly short and kinda random because said show of course let out rather late and was in downtown Phoenix. After I dropped off my date to the show and then got myself on home and in bed, it was nigh on one in the morning, and seeing as I have to have my carcass up at five in order to do battle with that beast called traffic in order to be at work on time, it is rather shocking that I’m even conscious at this point.

In unrelated news, I’ve got quite a few things coming up which will be a nice little fill to my time. My company’s holiday party is this weekend and it promises to be . . . an event. It certainly was last year. Last year the “mystery band” turned out to be the Gin Blossoms. This year, it is “two legendary rock bands” as well as a “famous comedian.” Who knows. I just hope I actually win something this time around. It would be a nice change for once. Then on Wednesday is my birthday and I’ll be celebrating it the following weekend by jetting up to Vegas for a few days. It’ll be nice to get away. No real plans. Just intoxication and gambling. More of the former as I am lacking a primary component for the latter.

And that’s about me for now. Take care everyone.

~Ash.