Untitled Post
2004-04-13 02:00:12 by Andrew Hitchcock G+
Okay, I imagine this will be a huge post, so be prepared. First a few random comments, then I'll get to a chronological description of the last week. I was telling Jeff T about my naive Bayesian Spam filter (after he was talking about his recent increase in spam). He didn't think mine would work very well, expecting a lot of false positives. It usually works pretty well; it's accuracy is currently 94.0006%, but that is unaccurately low. Two things make that low: I turned on Auto Learn before I had much spam, so the corpus wasn't very large, and when I first got a big surge of the e-mail worm back in February, it guessed on a bunch of them before I had a chance to add a few to the database, creating a lot of false negatives. The other quick news item: My Apple stock has doubled since I bought it, as of today (+100.72%). Sweet. It is slowly dragging my portfolio out of red, kicking and screaming.
Over a week ago on a Friday, I went for a facial at Gene Juarez in Bellevue (*shudder*, Bellevue). I decided to go because Kyan is always praising facials and spa treatments. I thought, "What the hell, lets give it a try." They first led me into the locker room, which is many orders of magnitude better than the high school locker room. I had a robe, shorts, and sandals/slippers waiting for me. They apparently expected me to take off all my normal clothing, but whoa, I've never done this before, I'm going to leave one item on ;) (I don't know whether this will be a 'rug and tug,' as my uncle puts it). Next I walk into the waiting room with fountains and stuff. My feet are placed in a bowl of hot water, I'm given some ice water, and they hand me a wicker baskets of magazines. I flip through real fast and find none that interest me ("What! No MacWorld?"). When I realize how long this might take, I grab one that looks promising. I spend the next more than five minutes flipping through over forty pages of advertisements. I guess that is normal for fashion-type magazines. I read an article in which the author claims he doesn't want to live 100+ years. It depresses me when I realize I might not reach the Singularity (which is high on the reasons why I am getting in shape now, to try to reach it). Anyway, to get my mind off that, I read a more uplifting story about how Crystal Meth is the new drug of choice in Hollywood. Apparently, by watching what drugs are represented in movies, you can follow the evolution of the California drug scene. I was unfortunately not able to finish the article before Shelby came up to me. She cleaned the water and foam off my feet and poured it below the couch I was sitting on (I didn't even notice there were water spouts and drains below me). We then walk through some hallways to the private room. First, as my mom told me would happen, she puts lotion on my hands and then I dip them in parafin wax and put them in little plastic baggies. I then hop in a soft bed and begin the process. She puts a headband around my head above my forehead to keep my knatty hair out of the way. Then begins the barrage of creams. I have no idea what most of this stuff is. She applies some stuff for exfoliation and then points a steam machine on me. Even though no scrubbing is involved, I can still feel that slightly painful peeling. After coming back, she uses a warm rag to wipe of the remaining stuff. At some point she removes the wax from my hands and puts lotions down my arms, shoulder, and neck. Also, at some point, I get a face massage thing. Before the end comes more creams. Then she leaves and says she will meet me outside the room with water. I put the robe back on and continue the journey. I get product recommendations and then return to the locker to return to civilian clothing. I buy the recommended product (a really good moisturizer, as it turns out) and leave. I look at my face in the car mirror and see it is all shiny (shiny as in what MTV uses to capture its audience, not as used in Firefly).
That Saturday we had an Ultimate game. All of us seniors take Rafi's(?) car (so we aren't tied down by the young'uns) and listen to Less Than Jake (I believe that was the music). Rafi tells us about a CD set he borrowed from the library that contains four CDs meant to be played from four stereos at once. We lose both games 11-3, but I consider that a success. The second team was very athletic, but not very versed in the strategies of Ultimate. They teach us how to play a ninja fighting game (instead of doing cheers). I was satisfied with my playing; I managed to maintain energy and not get exhausted. It was also a beautiful day.
I can't, off the top of my head, remember anything worth mentioning that occured on Saturday through Tuesday. Of course, that may be because I am high on pseudoephedrine hydrochloride. Wednesday, however, was a fairly good day. Well, except for when I had a close encounter with a car on Island Crest Way. People need to look before blasting through a crosswalk (even when they have a stop sign). On Thursday we started pickleball in weight training.
On Friday, I got really pissed. I was coming south on the sidewalk on Island Crest Way; I slowed down at an obstructed view road (where drivers are often careless). Fortunately I did, because I would have likely been killed. Right before I entered the crosswalk (I would have been in it had I not slowed), a huge delivery truck came racing through the crosswalk up to the side of the road. I looked at the driver, but he didn't look right once, not once. He then, without looking right, pulled out into the road. The driver did not see me the whole time, despite the fact that he nearly fucking killed me. This pissed me off to no end. As I promised myself on Wednesday, I would now enter the "FUCK YOU CARS" mode. I quickly peddled to the crosswalk near Island Park and slammed the button (previously I would wait for cars that were near the crosswalk to continue through). I sped across the crosswalk and got in the southbound lane on Island Crest Way. In my mad fury, I began peddling at a furious pace. Unfortunately, my bike is down to only five gears (the front gear control transfer wire thing broke), making it hard to go too fast. I was so angry, I ignored the tired signals from my legs and I continued up the hill near QFC. I headed to Starbucks to cool my temper (with a hot chocolate, none the less). I was a little calmed when the Barista related his recent experience to me. He was considering uncapping his cable modem (just for fun), but quickly canceled that plan when he read about some people that had the FBI come knocking for doing the same thing. After finishing my pastry, I grab my hot chocolate and continue riding home... on the roads (versus sidewalks). From that point forth, I vowed to only ride on roads. That way cars will be more likely to see me. What? You don't want to have to worry about passing me on one lane stretches? Well maybe you should have thought about that before NEARLY KILLING ME! Jesus Christ, people should get an annual aptitude test before they are allowed behind the wheel of a three ton, penis envy, death machine. If one of these "soccer mom"/"balding needle dicks" prevent me from becoming transhuman, I'll be pissed.
On Saturday, I helped Geoff Ma with his Eagle Scout project. That was a good 4.5 hours of community service while hanging out with friends.
On Sunday, my mom and I went to drop my bike off for service at a store in Bellevue (employed by two of my classmates). Unfortunately, they were full at the time, so we'll return in two weeks. However, it did provide us the opportunity to see some of the current bikes so I can get an idea of what to ask for for my graduation present (even though I don't think graudation is a big deal, I'll still use it as an excuse to get stuff :) ). These new bikes are amazing compared to the 25 year old one I am riding now. Lets name some differences. They are a lot lighter, with the cheapest using aluminum (I believe mine is steel). They have a weird ass gear shift where you use the brake handles to shift (removing the need to take your hands off the handles). Also, they are 27 speed versus my current 10 speed (five if you consider that it is broken). The cheapest road bikes are kind of expensive, but man, I can't wait to get one. After that, we picked up my brother and headed to the Museum of Flight to see the Concorde. I'm always amazed how they manage to get the coolest planes (like an old Air Force One).
Today, after going to my BCC Pysch class, I worked on my PVC with my brother. We made the C#, the second longest note. It is one of my favorites so far (the design is neat and near perfect). Plus, it allows us to play the main part of Time To Start (C#s, Bs, and As), albeit much slower because our paddle is nearly destroyed. Then I went to the Sonics game with Travis's mom. He would have joined us had he not gone to California. The seats were a little far back (row 17) and slightly obstructed, but it was a fun game. I got some of the inflatible clappers and turned them into inflatible talking clappers (like the talking drum). By squeezing harder, you get a higher note. Unfortunately, I made a hole in one of mine. After the game, thanks to Shelley's connections, we were able to get "Locker Room" passes from Keith Jones(?) of the Houston Rockets. Though we did not enter the locker room (I didn't think we would), we did get to hang out behind the visitor's bus where all players (of both teams) must pass to exit the building. I met Steve Francis, but didn't get my picture with anyone. I did take pictures, which I'll put up in a few days. Big Lo was there and he had a huge pile of big shoes, pratically all the players gave their shoes to him.
Anyway, that is a recap of the week from what I can remember at this early hour. Right now I am listening to my iPod and trying not to doze off (I've got stuff to write!). Tomorrow I'll likely head into Seattle (using only a bike and/or public transportation, mind you) and have all I can^Hre to eat sushi with my dad and brother. Good day!
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