Filming my swing

Golf and I is the story of me trying to avoid anything resembling real exertion.

I started golfing when I joined J.V. Golf in high school to avoid the stigma of Physical Education. Like J.V. Baseball (which provided for me spring’s version of J.V. Golf), J.V. Golf was full of rejects like me who couldn’t golf (or play baseball). In golfing’s case, this pretty much amounted to Mr. Gregory forcing us to pretend at hitting balls up and down a hill, collecting said balls, and ogling at the girls’ field hockey team. Once a week we’d repeat the same procedure on a local public course, minus the girls.

I’m such a geek that it’s wonder I didn’t go through high school ostracized and completely traumatized by the experience. I can only attribute surviving unscathed to having a popular older brother, being small and non-threatening, and my natural good looks. 😉

[Filming my golf swing after the jump.]Continue reading

Flatting in Illinois

My last blog entry reminded me of something that happened to me in graduate school. My first four years on my bike, I hadn’t a single flat. That summer day I was riding to Florida Ave. for pickup soccer and I was late. In the apartment, I grabbed my bike, slung my cleats across my shoulder and started cycling. I lived at the opposite end of Champaign-Urbana at the time.

Because of where I was coming from and the time, I decided to cut through on the university bike paths. I almost never do this because the condition of the bike paths are poorly maintained.

At one point there were what must have been two hundred junior high school girls practicing cheers in various groups. I guess it was a summer camp or something. Oh well, no matter. I’ll just stick to the path and barrel by them.

That’s when Murphy reared his ugly ass.

[My Illinois flat story after the jump.]Continue reading

My cousin Ivan

Morning coffee seemed like a good idea. I never have a regular sleeping schedule, I had 18 holes ahead of me (for the first time in two years), and it was 7 in the morning.

My father says hi to man behind the register. He asks about me.

“I live in the Bay Area,” I respond.

“Oh? You go to school there?” (I get that a lot.)

“No, I work there.”

My father then says to me, “This is Ivan. He calls me ‘Uncle’ so that makes him your cousin. That’s how it works, isn’t it?”

Ivan laughs.

[Habits and more breakfast memories after the jump.]
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Jeeeeeee–suuuuusss

Someone’s blasting Christian Pop in the small apartment complex I’m living in.

Somewhat bothersome.

At least it wasn’t anyone who has complained to me about noise.

Chicken Breast Dijon

“You tell nice stories, and sorry to hear about your mom.”

It’s been almost seven years now, so that didn’t really bother me until a couple hours later, as I was driving home, I realized how much I missed sharing stories with her. I fell into a funk.

It is said that Irma Rombauer wrote The Joy of Cooking to recover from her husband’s suicide. One sure way to crawl out of a funk is to cook something.

I pulled up MacGourmet, wrote down a few ingredients and stopped by Safeway:

Chicken Breast Dijon on a bed of Basmati Rice

Chicken Breast Dijon on a bed of Basmati Rice
Sunnyvale, California

Nikon D200, Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8G VR
1/10sec @ f/2.8, iso 100, 70mm (105mm)

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Appletini

I got some new martini glasses today. As soon as I unpacked them, I washed them and put them in the freezer. Dave suggested I try to make some apple martinis with them. I try every drink on myself before subjecting anyone else to them, so a quick stop to BevMo, and I find my bartending skills have atrophied to the point of uselessness:

Four sips and I’m buzzin’

Four sips and I’m buzzin
Sunnyvale, California

Lumix DMC-LX1
1/20 sec @ f/2.8, iso 200, 6.3mm (28mm)

(review of the appletini after the jump)Continue reading

Web SIG’s red pill

I promised Bess I’d mention that I’ll be at WebSIG’s “Wiki Technology and Trends” event taking photos and generally making an ass of myself.

Admission is free with RSVP do it!

Because it is Halloween, there is a suggested dress code of being an Agent which I’ve mixed feelings about. On one hand, I don’t have that sort of tie and dress shirt lying around; on the other hand, I look devilishly handsome in a suit. 😀
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