You are. And that is enough.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from the not-so-frozen tundra of Minnesota! (If not for the lake in the picture that’s iced over, the 40-degree weather and leaves hanging from the trees would be more appropriate for Thanksgiving instead.)
I was planning on writing an entry about yesterday’s goings-on, but I got distracted. And by distracted, I mean “I spent hours playing with my new smartphone.” And by playing with, I mean “installed lots of worthless apps that I’ll probably never use.” (Now that I think about it, maybe I shouldn’t have deleted the cookbook…)
The whole process started two weeks ago on “Shop Local Saturday”. I remember that because we went to a small Sprint store in a nearby strip mall as opposed to a larger Sprint store that has a bigger selection of phones. We ended up having an extended discussion about purchasing options with the person working there that day (things were going to be sticky, given that I wasn’t due for a phone upgrade until September 2012 and I was piggy-backing off my parents’ cell phone plan) and I finally told her to put my name on the list. It’s a lot like the Nintendo Wii when it first hit the shelves: the company could have filled the stores to capacity with no problem, but they want to maintain a high demand, so Apple limits the supply.
Fast forward to today: it’s two weeks later and I still haven’t heard anything from the store. After such a long time, I’m wondering just how long the list is, so I corralled Mom and we went in. I told her the visit might take less than five minutes—they could have said “Your phone will be here on Thursday of next week” or maybe stopping by would bump my name up higher on the list and I could get the phone faster. As it turned out, yes, I got it faster.
They had some iPhones in stock and never called. Whether that’s because my name didn’t actually get on the list or the list is imaginary or they simply don’t bother calling, I dunno. Whatever the reason was, Mom and I ended up spending a much larger amount of time than five minutes at the store and I walked out the door with a brand new iPhone 4S. Yay for me!
We got home sometime after 2:00—I don’t remember exactly when—and that’s when I started exploring. I learned all sorts of nifty things, one of which is how to transfer mp3 files from my laptop onto my phone. That took a while. That was the biggest reason I wanted to get a phone with 16GB of storage instead of just 8GB. I was somewhat selective on my choices of which bands/artists, which albums, etc., so I ended up transferring only 7.53GB of music. 4.7 days worth of tunes. Lotsa music.
And so that’s been the largest chunk of the day. Incidentally, I sent out my first text message ever with my new phone to someone whose cell phone had died. I started the message with “I know you won’t get this for a few days, but…” About five minutes later, the recipient called me from her house phone. She had no idea I wrote. We’d been playing telephone tag for the last few days and she gave me a call just a few minutes after I sent her a text message she couldn’t read. I thought it was pretty interesting timing, too.
Up to this point, I’ve been searching for free apps. I may pay for some eventually, but at this point, I can handle seeing little ads at the top of the screen when I’m using it as a flashlight or scanning bar codes. I may reach a point where $0.99 will keep me from going completely bonkers because an ad is so annoying, but given the cost of the phone, the calling plan, etc., I’ll keep all the pennies I can. Now that I think about it, if I’d kept the cookbook on here, I might have been inspired to go grocery shopping… shopping costs lots of pennies… removing that free app saved me lots of money. Not so worthless after all.
Best Buy was shooting a commercial at the Gophers’ outdoor football stadium today and I volunteered to help out. Part of the reason I volunteered was because they were paying us. (“Will work for free as long as I get some money, too.”) I had a really bad experience working on a commercial before, but this was different. For one thing, they were paying us twice as much. They were also offering overtime of $18+ an hour past eight hours. For another, they also gave us real food as opposed to a tiny little boxed lunch. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Call time was at 7:00am near downtown Minneapolis, which meant I wasn’t going to be getting stuck in the middle of rush hour traffic. At least I didn’t think so. It’s been a while since I’ve driven into downtown in the wee hours of the morning. And when I say “a while”, I mean “never”. Thankfully, traffic moved really well, so leaving at 6:00 got me there about 6:30. I checked in, went inside the stadium and sat down at a table to start filling out paperwork.
I have to say that after doing extra work and little stuff like this for so long, it’s kinda cool to see random familiar faces here and there. “We were in [blank] together, right?” Since I had a while to wait before we got started, I spent some time wandering around the room and said hi to a few people.
There were close to 100 extras there, so it took a while for everyone to get their paperwork done. I’m not sure how they made their initial selections, but there was a group of people who went up into the stands first and the rest of us joined them 20 or 30 minutes later. I was really glad I was in the second group for one very big reason: it was cold outside.
I know, it’s Minnesota, I shouldn’t be such a whiny baby, but when you’re sitting on a hard plastic seat in an outdoor stadium and it’s… the temperature was in the single digits when I left the house, so it was still pretty cold. Plus we were planted in our seats not moving around much for about four hours, which is plenty of time to have the warmth sucked slooooowly out of your body. Thankfully, I acquired some long johns at the last minute, so by the time we went back inside, the only part of me that was really cold were my toes.
As we were filing up the stairs into the stands, I was walking next to a couple people I knew, thinking that I’d get to sit next to them and chat. There was someone standing on the stairs in front of us pointing down the row: “One more…” and then it was me, so I had to go up to the next row and abandon most of my friends. I ended up sitting next to someone from the first group; thankfully, I already knew him, which was good for two reasons. 1) We could chat during the shoot; and 2) we shared some mutual suffering the entire morning. Going through that on my own would have sucked big time.
See, we ended up sitting directly behind someone who might be referred to as “an attention whore”. That in itself isn’t a big deal, but when the camera is pointing in his direction (as it was for the entire morning since he was sitting a few rows behind the main actors in the commercial and in line with the camera), it gets ugly. During the course of our suffering, we thought about trying Ritalin or a little electric shocker in his seat to zap him or just punching him in the back of the head. I don’t know if any of those would have worked, but when the assistant director said “Action!”, it was never a question of “Will he do something this time?” It was “What will he do this time?”
We were supposed to be at a football game, jumping up and cheering when our team scored a touchdown. They wanted us to mime the scene a couple times (action, no sound) and he yelled something anyway. Just before “the touchdown”, I’d lean forward in anticipation, whereas he’d be bouncing around or jerking backward in his seat in spastic movements (“He’s having a seizure! Tip his head forward so he doesn’t swallow his tongue!”). When we sat down after the touchdown, I’d turn and fist-bump the guy sitting next to me while the dude in front of us… a lot of times after the AD said “Cut!”, I’d just put my head in my hands and groan.
And maybe the worst part about his post-cheering antics was that he’d be flailing his arms around in slow motion. If the scene isn’t over, you’re supposed to keep moving and you’re supposed to keep moving in real time. Hey, our hands were moving in real time as we mimed breaking open tablets of Ritalin or pushing a button to give him an electric shock. The scene was always over when we did that, but still…
They gave us a break at one point so the crew could move equipment around—in doing so, they moved the main actors into the row right in front of the attention whore. Literally, he could have patted their heads. (He only did that once to someone during his post-touchdown antics, so we figured that was out of his system.) What I don’t think he realized was that they were doing a close-up shot of the actors, so all the camera could see was his lap or maybe as high as his chest. I don’t think he realized it because he didn’t stop moving.
Not only did he not stop, he kept going after three requests from the AD to not move his hands or bounce around… three requests! Three! The final solution? Everyone in that row was instructed to move two seats to the left. I’m not kidding. They moved everyone two seats to the left so he wouldn’t be in the shot anymore. I had been in line with the camera the whole time, but I was very good about sitting there and looking out at the field. I might or might not be able to see my shins if they use that scene in the commercial, but at least they got a couple good takes without the attention whore in there.
I probably would have been more aggravated about this today, but we wrapped just before noon. We were scheduled for eight hours (plus overtime if necessary), but instead, we were on set for about four. Even better, they had a hot lunch to fill our cold tummies that was waiting for us when we got back inside. Salad, lasagna, chicken breasts, garlic bread… way better than a sandwich and an apple. (“Will work for free as long as I get some money, too. And food is bonus points.”)
So today was nothing like Buffalo Wild Wings. Admittedly, I had to suffer watching an asshat work (what he thought was) his magic in front of the camera, but at least I didn’t suffer alone. Plus I got paid more, ate a better meal, I had time for a nap this afternoon… yeah. So no love/hate relationship here, which is good considering how much money I’ve spent at Best Buy in the last month or two. It would be way too cliche: “After everything I’ve given you, this is how you treat me?!”
I got an e-mail earlier today from American Mensa asking me to renew my membership online now so they could “be green” and not have to send me a notice in the mail later this month. It was apparently a generic message that they send to all members since I scrolled down a little further and discovered that my membership will expire on 3/31/2013 (I apparently paid for three years the last time).
Thus, if the Mayans were right and the world is going to end in 2012, my membership in Mensa is ensured for the rest of my life.
Man, when I fall off the wagon, I fall off hard. There are a few blog entries I could have written, but opted not to… maybe some other time, maybe not. But the point is that after writing something every day in November, I looked on here, noticed that it was getting close to a week since my last post and it hurt me deep down in my soul. Thankfully, there are always spammers trying to post comments that keep things interesting. For me, anyway.
Akismet is a spam blocker here on WordPress and from 2007 to now, it’s blocked 14,609 spam at a 99.65% accuracy rate. I remember back in the old days of shawnbakken.com, there were no spam blockers (at least none that I knew of), so I had to surf through all the posts and get rid of all the bogus comments myself. I currently have over 650 posts and Akismet blocked eight spam since I logged in yesterday… Akismet has saved me a lot of time and frustration over the last few years.
Today, seven of the blocked comments were from “vimax” or had “vimax” as part of the spammer’s web address. I have no idea what Vimax is and I’m afraid to look it up on Google in case it’s something like a herpes medication—if I found out and told you, you might start to wonder why I knew…
But I thought it was interesting because some of the comments were along the lines of “My wife wouldn’t like it if she read this.” I’m sure I’ve written an offensive blog post or two or… well, there could be a lot, but this one? “Hey, fuck your wife, I like having a social life!” But since Akismet blocked that comment, I didn’t have to write that response—since I didn’t have to tell the spammer to go fuck his wife, one could consider Akismet a cock blocker with a 100% success rate, too.
I’m a teensy-weensy bit sorry that yesterday’s entry was just a saying of the day, but I wanted to get a couple hours of sleep in the late PM hours so I could stay up all night and not accomplish anything. Okay, fine, I was editing and writing a section of a group paper for class tomorrow, but most of the time, I wasn’t accomplishing anything.
Earlier in the afternoon, I went to the local Y and took a ride on an exercise bike for 30 minutes, my first exercise in over a month. I got home and my knee was still functional, so I take that as a good sign. I’m not going to push myself too hard because I want it to continue being functional—it pops a lot more than it used to, but that’s going to be part of life from here on out. I’m tough, I’ll manage. Loud noises don’t scare me. Unless they’re coming from malfunctioning carbon monoxide/gas detectors that tell you your house is about to explode.
I’m not sure if I mentioned it on here before, but it’s not that exciting of a story. At least not that exciting to read. It was exciting to experience, but not in a good way. I got some monster adrenaline bursts when the really loud alarm started blaring because it “detected gas” and said alarm was blaring maybe four feet away from my head. We opened some doors and windows in the house and it stopped, but it went off again a few days later. We replaced it and there haven’t been any problems since then. (Instead of getting rid of the old one right away, we switched it with one of the gas detectors upstairs, so Dad had the pleasant experience of being woken up in the middle of the night because there was supposedly gas in his room, too. You know, the toxic kind… natural gas… the stuff that goes through the pipes to help heat the house. That kind of gas.)
Lastly, I want to finish up the month by letting you all know that I probably won’t be posting in here nearly as often as I have in the last month (i.e., not every day)—for those of you who just found the blog and have been surfing through past entries, it’ll give you some time to catch up. For those who have gotten used to this frequency of posting, I feel a teensy-weensy bit bad for defying your expectations, but not enough to keep going for the rest of the year. You’re tough, you’ll manage.
And that’s about it. To quote George Carlin, “I have no ending to this, so I take a small bow.”
