Morning commute

Always such a shame to see someone fulfilling grotesque stereotypes.

Example-
morning commute in Boise, Idaho [suppose'd home to innumerable rednecks and gun-toting closed-minded luddites]. Relatively hassle-free. Meathead in jacked up 4x4 Jeep, sporting the following bumperstickers: 1) Jesus didn't ride an Elephant. 2) My Jeep can kick your Hybrid's Ass. and 3) Who would Jesus Bomb?. Wow, hooray for Idaho.

I'm at work, though not planning to work today. We are all headed up to Garden Valley for a day's "retreat"; though in my developing sense of career-hood I've learned "retreat" is actually nerd-speak for "day o' meetings, albeit outside of the office." I hope we don't have too much to discuss, as Garden Valley is referred to as the Promised Land at this time of year.

Which, perhaps, is why I might run into my father [I am no longer speaking in terms of Idaho Bumper Stickers... father, not Father]. A few hours before my graduation BBQ he swung by for a six-minute visit and mentioned he was headed to GV to source work and a housing situation. No one has heard from him since, and based on prior experience I should expect the unexpected, i.e. to run smack into him during a micro-vacation from Boise. GV only has two bars, three if you count Painter Ed's single-wide home [a rather pickled gentleman my father once referred to as "Good People"]; so he should be easy to avoid or locate if I feel so inclined. I've no desire to see him. I admit, it would be awkward to introduce my workmates to him in such a situation. "Oh, hey dad, these are my co-workers... I didn't know you were up here. Wow, dad, you look/smell great as usual." Never ceases to push the envelope. Good for me, I guess.

Anyway, it should be a nice escape one way or another. I'm packing my [NEW!!] mountain bike along so I'll have someone snap some pictures of me pedalling around.

Time passes

It's Tuesday... in June. Yikes! Where does the time go? The scary (yet exciting) fact is that I enjoy such rapid passing of time, and although I still haven't settled into my post-school rhythm I'm slowly gaining control of my schedule. First off, school is over, as most of you know. We all threw one hell of a BBQ (which many of you attended) and I nearly fulfilled my promise of a legendary drinking performance. Alas, at the end of the evening no one had gone streaking, and I woke up in normal PJ's and a moderate if non-existent hangover; yet I certainly pushed the inebriation envelope and won't be drinking like that for another five or six months.

It's five p.m. My day today: Ride, work, nap... headed out for ride number two. Not too shabby, a good schedule. I'm trying to regain some bicycling-confidence after a horrid experience last weekend at Mt. Hood. The weekend bared strong resemblance to the Tour de Toona back in 2005: good prep, superb legs, and an unwavering lack of belief in myself. Never underestimate my ability to mire good fitness in bad brains. I don't want to write about this... I'm upset but I'll deal and it doesn't change my love of the sport, nor my narcissistic opinion of everything in my life non-cycling related (hey the counselor says its OK!). That's the beauty in such a blog, created under the pretense of pure extemporaneous ramblings... let's talk about other things.

Like Lauren, for example. She leaves this Friday (or Saturday, if I can dissuade her for an additional 24 hours) to begin her two months' incarceration up at Camp Happy Girl in McCall. OK, it's not actually called that, but I haven't yet memorized the term the Girl Scouts of America has assigned to its institution. Ouch, I sound a bit sour, when in actuality I'm not too upset. I'll miss Lauren, but we'll get our visits in here and there. Plus, this is the frosting part of her job, after six months of scrambling to hire staff, write curriculums, arrange bus skeds; all the while dealing with typical "Hey I'm miserable to be here" co-workers. She's earned a couple months' stay in the wilderness. Any malevolence I express stems from pure selfishness.

This blog breaks the seal on a sparse year of personal journaling, and I'm looking forward to logging more key strokes in the months ahead. I'll have to fill you in on the unexpected side effects of non-academia. Tom Crawford recently graduated as well, and on his blog he mentions recently being denied a library card for summer enjoyment. I'm off the list, too, and just found out that my ID card works to enter my lab but no longer grants access to the building (in which the lab is located). Hooray. More later. The pic above was taken in Moab over Spring Break. Little after the fact, but worth posting. My mountain bike should come in sometime this week... dig it.