<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:02:04.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the freeway slowdance</title><subtitle type='html'>O - Outstanding
&lt;br&gt;S - Satisfactory
&lt;br&gt;N - Needs Improvement
&lt;br&gt;U - Unsatisfactory
&lt;br&gt;N/A - Not Applicable</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>172</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-116378915564554332</id><published>2006-11-17T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T10:45:55.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i've been blogging over at my myspace but i swear to god, i'm going to move those things back over here.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/116378915564554332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/116378915564554332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_11_12_archive.html#116378915564554332' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115941317046804672</id><published>2006-09-27T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:17:07.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Amazon, Top 10000 ReviewerSo, I've been super busy lately what with school (which is going well), work, and trying to get my taxes together (I got a 6 month extension back in April.  What did I do for the past 5 months?  Not taxes.)  But, I had to make an announcement that today, I moved for the first time under rank number 10,000 as an Amazon.com Reviewer.  Number 9889, baby.What does this mean?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115941317046804672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115941317046804672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_09_24_archive.html#115941317046804672' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115636645542545008</id><published>2006-08-23T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T13:55:58.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Back to SchoolOn something of a whim, I've decided to go back to school and as of Tuesday next week will be taking ... Biology 1 at RCC.  That's right, Biology.  I haven't taken a science class in 10 years, not since Chemistry with Ms Jones my sophomore year in high school.    Perhaps I've just forgotten how much pain it was.But, my great hope is that in these past 10 years (or more accurately, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115636645542545008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115636645542545008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_08_20_archive.html#115636645542545008' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115625266908779003</id><published>2006-08-22T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T06:18:02.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Glory of 8 HoursSunday night, Reina and I ended up back home around 11 pm, and then spent the next 2 hours finishing up our Kiis FM Wedding Contest application.  I spent a couple hours rolling around before finally getting to sleep at three, then got up at six to drive my tired ass to Burbank and drop off the tape for the contest before the deadline.  Worked the day on 3 hours, went out for </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115625266908779003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115625266908779003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_08_20_archive.html#115625266908779003' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115465129244029088</id><published>2006-08-03T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T17:50:34.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Puzzle MinionWhere have I been, with the blogging, you ask?  How has my quest to do productive things and not read as much news gone?  This is what I've been doing: 999 pieces of puzzle glory (Damn you, missing piece!).  There is something calming in putting together a puzzle.  Something about doing a menial task.  Set up your rules / strategy (1. Border 2. Group pieces by color group 3. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115465129244029088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115465129244029088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_07_30_archive.html#115465129244029088' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115333414860356840</id><published>2006-07-19T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T11:45:23.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NewsfeedHello.  *cough cough*  Uh, I guess you all know why I'm here.  My name is Doug.  And I'm a news addict.  I'm not sure exactly when it started.  Years ago.  As a kid, I read the newspaper over breakfast, then finished it after I got home from school.  At first it was just a healthy desire to see what was going on in the world.  Find out what was going on outside my little sphere.  Always </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115333414860356840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115333414860356840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_07_16_archive.html#115333414860356840' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115306607600212222</id><published>2006-07-16T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T09:18:32.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Toro SushiUsually when I have an experience with a bad waiter, it's because, you know, they're either lazy, or an ass, or sometimes both.  How many times have you glanced around a restaurant looking for your waitress while your water-glass sits empty.But I guess there's always room for something new.  Last night, Reina and I went to Toro Sushi in Chino.  So we're walking to the table, and before </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115306607600212222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115306607600212222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_07_16_archive.html#115306607600212222' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115182132394815812</id><published>2006-07-01T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-01T23:22:41.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Today (July 1st) is Canada Day!In honor of this momentous occasion, I thought I'd tell you folks a little bit about it.  Canada Day wasn't always known as Canada Day.  Before it was Canada Day, it was known as Dominion Day.  Why, you ask?  (okay, not really, but let's pretend)  Well, prior to October of 1867, Canada was a bunch of separate territories of Britain.  On July 1st, 1867, Canada's </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115182132394815812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115182132394815812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_06_25_archive.html#115182132394815812' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115165500674822124</id><published>2006-06-30T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T01:13:02.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Back to TheRadI got around to messing around with TheRad again, which was a little graphical music program I wrote in college.  TheRad was a sequencer that you could use to mix samples, synthesized drums, and basic sine-wave melodies into a simple rhythmic pattern.  The above is a screen shot of its main screen and (in the bottom right) the drum sequencer portion.  I wrote it for a final (</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115165500674822124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115165500674822124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_06_25_archive.html#115165500674822124' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-115031656848553443</id><published>2006-06-14T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T13:22:52.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Song of the LyrebirdDisclaimer:  While I tend not to post here the kind of cool stuff you can find on BoingBoing, Fark and Digg, this thing just blew my mind.Click Here First.http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3433507052114896375It's the Australian Lyrebird, the same bird you'd see on the back of their 10 cent coin, only I had no idea it was so damn talented!  I think this is from a BBC </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115031656848553443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/115031656848553443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_06_11_archive.html#115031656848553443' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114893146817562950</id><published>2006-05-29T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T13:38:41.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What're you looking at ... PUNK.Wow!  The Orangutan is so close!  ...  Is that a stick?  It's making a tool of some sort!Orangutan Video 1Oh wow, it's right in front of us!  What is it ... is that ... LOOK OUT!Orangutan Video 2</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114893146817562950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114893146817562950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_05_28_archive.html#114893146817562950' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114868792925061913</id><published>2006-05-26T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T16:58:52.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Engaged.Reina and I are officially engaged.  That is all....Oh, for the fluffy version of this, you can hop to:http://www.xanga.com/reimulan</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114868792925061913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114868792925061913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_05_21_archive.html#114868792925061913' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114856440600478896</id><published>2006-05-25T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T13:29:27.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Useful Stuff SubplotSo I do a lot of perusing Amazon.com and end up finding stuff I didn't know existed that would have been helpful at some time in my life.  Tools, and cookware and other stuff like that.  So I thought I'd keep an ongoing thread to keep track of it all and to share.  A capitalist undercurrent to the other minutia I muse on here.A Caveat:  Most of this stuff I haven't bought </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114856440600478896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114856440600478896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_05_21_archive.html#114856440600478896' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114801514910894716</id><published>2006-05-18T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T22:05:55.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>World's Largest Paper CupApparently the World's Largest Paper Cup is located in my hometown.  I don't even know exactly where it is, or why it is, or whether or not it's actually made of paper ... I've lived here for almost 2 decades total, and somehow have missed out on this 3 story monstrosity.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114801514910894716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114801514910894716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_05_14_archive.html#114801514910894716' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114798141700178164</id><published>2006-05-18T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T12:45:13.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Big Big Numbers EffectRecently, the office began doing $1,000,000+ appraisals. And one thing I've noticed is how adamant people are that they know the value of their homes at this level. When you appraise a condo in the $250,000 and they think it's $260,000 and you look at them and say "Sorry, but it's not" they usually sigh a little bit, maybe whine, but in the end they accept that your </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114798141700178164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114798141700178164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_05_14_archive.html#114798141700178164' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114774591369636364</id><published>2006-05-15T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T19:18:39.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dinner TheaterFor Mother's Day, Reina and I went out to the Murder Mystery Cafe in HillCrest with her parents, her brother Reggie and her brother's girlfriend Jenn.  I got to say, I haven't had that much fun in awhile.  They had a hat-contest and Reina and I made the hat that Reina's Mom (far right) is wearing in the picture (she took it off for the show as to not block the view of other guests.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114774591369636364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114774591369636364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_05_14_archive.html#114774591369636364' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114723813395827812</id><published>2006-05-09T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T22:16:31.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>How to Get a Free MealSo Reina and I went to Acapulco last night, for some tasty Si! food.  No, really, that's the name of their seafood selection.  The Si! Food menu.  I know.  Anyway, we went last night because Monday nights are $2.25 Magarita nights.  Like all classy Mexican restaurants, they gave us free chips and salsa when we sat down.  After a little bit, we'd worked our way through the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114723813395827812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114723813395827812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_05_07_archive.html#114723813395827812' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114684092000065675</id><published>2006-05-05T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T07:55:57.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Pizza Box of DoomNew Zealand pizza company "Hell Pizza" gives you a box "for your remains"link jacked from Boingboing.net</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114684092000065675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114684092000065675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_04_30_archive.html#114684092000065675' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114676571191496647</id><published>2006-05-04T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T11:01:55.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I &lt;3 Wikipedia and GoogleI can't say enough how much I ballsack Wikipedia and Google (And Merriam-Webster, to a lesser degree).  In the past two-days, I've looked up the Transatlantic Railroad, the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Kevin Nealon, Alexander the Great, a whole bunch of vitamin and mineral deficiency diseases and the Sacred Band of Thebes, among other things.When I'm watching game shows </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114676571191496647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114676571191496647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_04_30_archive.html#114676571191496647' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114667008985080670</id><published>2006-05-03T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T08:28:12.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So I just got this phone call.Me: TRU Appraisals. This is Doug, How can I help you?Marie: Hello?Me: Hello, This is TRU Appraisals, Can I help you?Marie: Yes, I'm stranded.Me: Excuse me?Marie: Is this 951.369.5007?Me: No.  You must've dialed a wrong number.Marie: *with consternation* Oh. Well, well, can you call that number?Me: I -Marie: And tell Glen that this is Marie and that I'm stranded at </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114667008985080670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114667008985080670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_04_30_archive.html#114667008985080670' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114615389848759547</id><published>2006-04-27T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T09:05:03.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>DisneylandReina and I went to Disneyland on Monday and it was awesome.  It's been a few years since I've been there, but we bought a two-fer.  A couple months ago we went to the California Adventures part of the two-fer and I have to say that I'm really impressed with the evolution of attractions.  Two attractions impressed me more than others:  The first was the new "Buzz Lightyear: Astro </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114615389848759547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114615389848759547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_04_23_archive.html#114615389848759547' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114604702905613943</id><published>2006-04-26T03:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T03:23:49.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>City GlowI forget sometimes how bright the sky is here in Riverside.  At night all the sodium vapor street lamps glow a particular shade of orange and when it's overcast, or the smog layer's particularly thick, the sky takes on a very soft shade of orange-lavender.I don't remember if the sky in San Diego was ever like this.  It's a little disconcerting, having the heavens look so unnatural, not a</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114604702905613943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114604702905613943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_04_23_archive.html#114604702905613943' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114531346196697414</id><published>2006-04-17T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T15:37:41.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Playoffs, what Playoffs?Lakers just beat the Suns (not too big a surprise, the Suns only had 9 guys available, and one of them wasn't MVP candidate Nash). At the end of the game, every time the Lakers made a defensive stop, the crowd went wild. Heavy HEAVY cheering. Offensive rebound followed by raucous roars to the rafters. Phoenix ball, nothing but big boos. Every steal, every block, crazy </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114531346196697414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114531346196697414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_04_16_archive.html#114531346196697414' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-114379927926906065</id><published>2006-03-31T01:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T02:04:05.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Losing SleepBeen awhile, I know.It's 1:30 am and I can't sleep.  Been this way for a couple nights now.  Go to bed, wake up a few hours later.  Got a lot on my mind.  Problems at work with an AWOL co-worker trying to steal clients for what I assume is his new side business (not to mention the 12 hour days and the licensing issue), Internet keeps going down, Tax season is coming up and I have a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114379927926906065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/114379927926906065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2006_03_26_archive.html#114379927926906065' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112909238156561405</id><published>2005-10-11T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T21:46:28.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Recurring DreamsWhen I was a kid I had 4 recurring dreams.  Not to say I didn't have other dreams, but these four dreams well ... they'd show up a lot.  I don't have any of them anymore, for various reasons.The Flying Dream.Everybody has a flying dream.  Mine goes like this (and for a good long while, I thought of it as a memory rather than a dream):  I wake up in my bed at Holly Ln, the first </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112909238156561405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112909238156561405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_10_09_archive.html#112909238156561405' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112558730018988500</id><published>2005-09-01T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T08:19:03.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Yay Drivel!So I've been watching this reality-game show called "So You Think You Can Dance."  I'll spare you the details, but it's a dance version of American Idol.Anyway, last week they had something like ... 3.7 million votes.  6 of the contestants have the potential to get canned by voters.  6 contestants, 3.7 million votes.  Assuming both guys and girls get the same amount of votes, let's do </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112558730018988500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112558730018988500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_08_28_archive.html#112558730018988500' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112509111979952871</id><published>2005-08-26T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-26T14:18:58.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Another Day in the Life (How Vague are these Titles)Turtles passed away.  Both of the two we had left, Slider and Turtle died on the same day.  Perhaps it got too hot, perhaps something got into their water.  We'll never know.  We held a nice ceremony for them, hummed Taps before tossing them into the dumpster at our apartment complex.  RIP, Slider and Turtle.On a happier note, we went to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112509111979952871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112509111979952871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_08_21_archive.html#112509111979952871' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112365125324861684</id><published>2005-08-09T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-09T22:21:36.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Day in the Life.In my relationship with Reina there is a constant that goes something like this.Every month or two, I do something dumb.  I forget something, or I actively do something that doesn't take into account feelings or prior plans.  Reina freaks out, I apologize, she turns vindictive/mean, I feel attacked, I go quiet, she gets more angry/accuses me of not communicating, I tell her a. I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112365125324861684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112365125324861684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_08_07_archive.html#112365125324861684' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112299519042695234</id><published>2005-08-02T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T08:10:17.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Parenthood.Sheena posted today about how Mom nags her and how it makes her not want to have kids:SodawingHere's my reply:"Or why I didn't have any compunction to make a ton of money. Doug and I are more Dad's kids, and I think that makes her sad."Mom is a pretty good mom, especially now that I don't live with her. Dad is still an okay Dad, made worse because I work with him.But we are not more </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112299519042695234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112299519042695234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_07_31_archive.html#112299519042695234' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112264976301718873</id><published>2005-07-29T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-29T08:09:28.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Pass-Out Game.Everybody's freaking out about "The Pass-Out Game" after they discovered some girl who was playing it BY HERSELF and managed to kill herself.  If you don't know the pass-out game, here's how it's supposed to go.Two people.1 person leans up against a wall (so their fall is braced if they fall backwards), puts their hands across their chest and around their own neck.  2 person </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112264976301718873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112264976301718873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_07_24_archive.html#112264976301718873' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112207841602002895</id><published>2005-07-22T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T17:27:00.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The other side of the coin.Now that we've talked about overage girls ... Bill Simmons (ESPN's The Sports Guy) addresses very delicately a question from a reader and I thought I'd share.What is the cutoff age of young female celebrities for guys not to be considered total "pervs" in thinking they are hot? For example, a lot of my male friends looove Lindsay Lohan. Now that she just turned 18 and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112207841602002895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112207841602002895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_07_17_archive.html#112207841602002895' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112182524614077215</id><published>2005-07-19T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T19:07:32.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Not a GMILF, but flattering nonetheless.Grandmother?  *shudders*  Got hit on by a 70 year old woman today, which was, actually, sort of flattering.  We talked about the weather, housing prices etc while I was doing my appraisal of her newly-dead mother's home.  As I was leaving, she says "Oh you're all done?  Shame about that.  You're a charming young fellow.  Easy on the eyes too.  A real looker</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112182524614077215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112182524614077215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_07_17_archive.html#112182524614077215' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112127535718334063</id><published>2005-07-13T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T10:23:37.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>EmenenoI love the letter Emeneno.  I went to do an appraisal at a house in Temecula and this little girl was pointing at the magnetic letters on their fridge (which read: M O M M Y  H E L L O) and pointing at each letter while she sung her rendition of The Alphabet Song.  "A B C D B C D A B C D Emeneno B"That's awesome.  If we ever need a new letter (not that we do.  We already have some useless </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112127535718334063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112127535718334063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_07_10_archive.html#112127535718334063' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112122209820982661</id><published>2005-07-12T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T19:35:06.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>RIP CFT?Yesterday I released CFT, one of our 3 Red-Eared Sliders, into the pond at my work.  She'd gotten pretty big, so I figured maybe she could fend for herself in a little bigger pool.  I checked on her an hour later and she seemed to be doing well....She's not there anymore.  Maybe she's hiding, yeah?  I've checked diligantly every hour since and I can't find her.  It's not that big a pond, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112122209820982661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112122209820982661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_07_10_archive.html#112122209820982661' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112003075078288830</id><published>2005-06-29T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T00:39:15.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Reina's been gone for 3 days now.Reina's been gone since Sunday night.  She's been taking this class at UCLA, a pre-dental perceptual ability class.  Pretty neat class idea, actually.  But it's four whole days at UCLA.It's amazing how what would normally seem like so little time (4 days.  I go weeks and months sometimes without talking to you.  And the fact that I can say that without specifying </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112003075078288830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112003075078288830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_06_26_archive.html#112003075078288830' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-112002446771809963</id><published>2005-06-28T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T22:54:32.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Bush Gave A Speech Today...Side-note: *Looks like my comments system is DOA.  sigh.*A little background:... reiterating the same things he's been saying for months.  We need to stay in Iraq, we can't set a time-table, we need to stay in Iraq until the job is done.  His approval ratings have plummeted past 50%, almost to Abu-Ghraib scandal levels.  Less than 50% of Americans believe we should stay</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112002446771809963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/112002446771809963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_06_26_archive.html#112002446771809963' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111723665455564648</id><published>2005-05-27T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T16:34:52.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>FaithVsLogic - A Discussion Re: Religion.I'm going to preface this with a few statements of fact.1. I am not Christian, though I've given a lot of thought to it.2. This is a really long post, it's actually a discussion I had today instead of actually, you know, doing work.3. My comments system appears to be down.  Feel free to e-mail or IM me with your thoughts, they'd be appreciated.4. This came</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111723665455564648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111723665455564648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_05_22_archive.html#111723665455564648' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111713384822223312</id><published>2005-05-26T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T12:00:54.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Lazy DaysIt is nearly noon and I have yet to make it to work.  I'm literally just sitting here at home, with piles of work to do at the office.  But the last two days I've worked from 9 am to 11 pm and fuck if I'm not tired.  I woke up so hopeful and optimistic this morning too (something I usually do not do) and somehow all of that ... just wasted away.  I think I've reached the point where the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111713384822223312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111713384822223312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_05_22_archive.html#111713384822223312' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111707032232422570</id><published>2005-05-25T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T18:19:51.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dialect SurveyBam.  Ridiculously interesting linguistic study.  That is all.LinktoComments('117')Comment </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111707032232422570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111707032232422570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_05_22_archive.html#111707032232422570' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111641437328374121</id><published>2005-05-18T03:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T08:45:55.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's 3:30 am and ...- Reina's asleep in the bedroom.  I love her but her snoring does get to me sometimes.  The things you put up with for love, I guess.- Canada's hanging out with me.  She must get bored at night.  "All these people do is sleep and leave."- My shower drain is clogging.  Note to self: Switch from faucet to shower-mode as quickly as possibly to prevent gunky build-up on bottom of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111641437328374121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111641437328374121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_05_15_archive.html#111641437328374121' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111638663959650830</id><published>2005-05-17T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T20:24:04.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Last Name ConundrumMy last name is Wong.  And I'll be honest with you, I've never been too fond of it.  Wong rhymes with a lot of things that 5th graders tend to think about:  dong, schlong, king kong, ping pong.  Over the years, I've thought about having it changed, and I thought that maybe something more generic, like West, would be good.Reina's last name is Ligeralde.  A real doozy of a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111638663959650830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111638663959650830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_05_15_archive.html#111638663959650830' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111625917117856236</id><published>2005-05-16T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T08:47:59.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Amusing Snippet of ConversationSo ... yesterday at Casa De Bandini (heh), was sitting around a table with Reina, Mary and a couple of Mary's friends.  Here's how the exchange went.Mary: What's he look like?JoJo: He's 5'9" 173 lbs.Jerry:  5'9" 173?!  That's a LARDASS!...Jerry:  Wait, who're we talking about?Me: Uh, her boyfriend.Jerry: Oh shit.Oh yeah, and I made a pact with Mary (a pinky swear no</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111625917117856236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111625917117856236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_05_15_archive.html#111625917117856236' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111522306522457206</id><published>2005-05-04T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T09:20:56.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Please pass the catsup," she said alluringly.That is the scallops dish from Parallel 33.  This place, and particularly this dish, is fan-fucking-tastic. Better meals are difficult to find.  The whole concept of the place is that San Diego lies on the 33rd parallel, along with Morocco, Lebanon, India, China, Japan ... some other countries.  So the head chef, who also did Cafe Japengo if you're </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111522306522457206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111522306522457206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111522306522457206' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111513441502769576</id><published>2005-05-03T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T08:35:12.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Blogs About Cats.People tend to blog about their cats a lot.  So far in my blog, I know there are at least three cat-blogs.  Why this is, I don't know.  Sheena's blog is riddled with cat-blogs.  If you do know why, fill me in.  Either way, you've read enough about cats, so I'll keep this short.Reina and I got a cat.  From the humane society.  Her name is Canada (I named her).  Here's a picture...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111513441502769576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111513441502769576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111513441502769576' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-111343854104663416</id><published>2005-04-13T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T17:29:06.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>All In A Day's Work.So for those of you not in the know, I am a real estate appraiser. This means I go to people's houses, look at them, and tell the lender what it's worth. Today I had a job at 1040-1042 E Rialto Ave in good ol' San Bernardino, a duplex.Now, the lender had informed me that the back unit was occupied, but that the front unit was vacant. Come 10 minutes after the agent was </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111343854104663416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/111343854104663416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_04_10_archive.html#111343854104663416' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-110602287550670117</id><published>2005-01-17T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T20:34:41.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Goo Po.My Grand-aunt is dying.  I got a call today from her daughter, my 2nd cousin, to tell me that she went to the hospital today.  She's got some sort of pancreatic blockage and some liver problems.  Her face is all yellow, and she's less than 60 lbs.  I drove up to Alhambra to see her today, this woman who essentially raised me from ages 1 to 5, who I remember cooking for me while I sat in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110602287550670117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110602287550670117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2005_01_16_archive.html#110602287550670117' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-110247876479173415</id><published>2004-12-07T19:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T20:23:06.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Cat plays Chutes and Ladders.  Dogs unimpressed.Here's that Belle playing Chutes and Ladders thing.  Reina and I were playing Chutes and Ladders and Belle decided to join the game, first by spinning the spinner, and later by trying to eat first the spinner, and then the "ethnic" girl.  White fat-cats always trying to bring the minorities down!LinktoComments('108')Comment </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110247876479173415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110247876479173415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_12_05_archive.html#110247876479173415' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-110203676380584169</id><published>2004-12-02T17:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-02T17:21:09.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hoo Amazon!  You tickle me Pink!I told Reina I'd blog about my cat spinning the Chutes and Ladder spinner next, but, well, actually, I thought THIS was more interesting.  Uh, if you don't want to click it, here's the gist.I added these two items to my cart at Amazon.com:50' RJ-45 Ethernet Cable50 pack Maxwell High-Performance AA batteriesHere's what Amazon suggested:Customers who bought</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110203676380584169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110203676380584169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_11_28_archive.html#110203676380584169' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-110170676067065595</id><published>2004-11-28T20:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T21:39:31.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>More Things You Never Knew.On many an afternoon, I have sat on a couch in front of a television and come across a commercial in which a runner drinking Gatorade runs faster/farther than a runner drinking water and thought "Electrolytes?  Bullshit."  What could possibly be better than water?  The entire principle of hydration is centered around the fact that you are replenishing what?  Water.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110170676067065595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110170676067065595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_11_28_archive.html#110170676067065595' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-110082913682588926</id><published>2004-11-18T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T17:57:05.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hey Sheena!I hate to start my post with the same word as my last post, but:Every year ("Year after year" would also be an acceptable starting phrase to this post, as would "When planet that is known as Earth makes its annual circumlocutory passage around the sphere of nuclear fusion known to the Greeks as Helios"), on July 21st, my sister thinks about maybe sending me a present.  A couple of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110082913682588926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110082913682588926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110082913682588926' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-110067264977590442</id><published>2004-11-16T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-16T22:27:29.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Catch-Up Part 3.Every once in great while a game comes along that makes all other games before it moot.  One amazing quintessential display of sportsmanship that makes the games before it seem like kids playing catch in the street.  Cal's "The Play" in 1982.  Boston comes back from 3 down to beat the Yankees in the ALCS this year.  June 18th, 2004 was not one of those days.  That day Reina </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110067264977590442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110067264977590442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110067264977590442' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-110066640217606887</id><published>2004-11-16T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-16T21:08:40.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Catch-Up part 2.More catch-up.  Belle, my cat, came in on Wednesday the 10th with a huge red eye.  It was all watering and swollen and she kept blinking and trying to shut it.  So I thought I better take her to the vet right away and put her in the car.Now, I don't know if you've had cats before, but I sure as hell haven't, and I learned right then and there that if there're two things cats </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110066640217606887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110066640217606887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110066640217606887' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-110066464551527213</id><published>2004-11-16T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-16T21:06:19.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Catch-UpSo let's play catch-up.November 6.  Hey, that's Reina's birthday.  We hung out with her family on Saturday, then on Sunday I took her to Julian.  We were supposed to have a horseback ride, but the lady cancelled.  Still, we got a carriage ride.  And ate apple pie.  Later in the day, took her to Fleming's, a nice steakhouse.  Happy birthday to Reina.  A nice weekend.EXCEPT.  On Friday</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110066464551527213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/110066464551527213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110066464551527213' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109897883882094897</id><published>2004-10-28T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-11-16T20:13:35.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Reina is Still Badass, Even though Blogger ate her post.Blogger ate this post I made about Reina "the love of my life" Ligeralde being badass and getting a 23 on the DAT when the average admit is only 19.  So for those of you who are wondering, she's still cool and smart and her score still stands.  Woo Reina!LinktoComments('101')Comment </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109897883882094897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109897883882094897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_24_archive.html#109897883882094897' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109839024210388447</id><published>2004-10-21T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T07:49:44.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Friendly Neighborhood?Click Here and input 94117.  This is where Patrick lives now.  Then input 92506.  This is where we grew up.  I now live in 92504, which is a little better than 92506, because, well, it's poorer.  Check out your neighborhood.Thanks to Patrick for showing me this.LinktoComments('100')Comment </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109839024210388447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109839024210388447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_17_archive.html#109839024210388447' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109819950038057934</id><published>2004-10-19T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T08:25:05.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NEATO.I was going to blog today about how a high-school girlfriend (over a year-long relationship) got married on Saturday and how odd that was, and how nice it was to see old friends (Warren has a Prius too!) and all that.But check THIS out!  Dude, it's a Catdoor (see above picture), that uses image-recognition to determine whether Flo (the cat) is carrying something in her mouth, and if so</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109819950038057934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109819950038057934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_17_archive.html#109819950038057934' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109813626391360887</id><published>2004-10-18T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T14:51:10.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Three Cheers for Alice!About a week ago, Alice and I had a long conversation about voting, about where the candidates stood on what and most importantly about the importance of voting at all. Alice is going overseas for a couple years pretty soon here and didn't see the point.  It's not that she was Republican or Democrat or anything, she just didn't see the point.  We had a long talk and she </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109813626391360887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109813626391360887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_17_archive.html#109813626391360887' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109807310613346242</id><published>2004-10-17T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-17T21:18:35.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Pepsi Challenge 2.So apparently, Coke provokes spikes in your brain waves and Pepsi doesn't, just from the corporate logo.  These folks were given a double-blind test in which first, they were told to choose a Cola based on taste in the style of the original Pepsi challenge.  Then they were told to choose a cola based on taste when shown the logo and 3/4s of them chose Coke.  WTF?  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109807310613346242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109807310613346242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_17_archive.html#109807310613346242' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109738521142935008</id><published>2004-10-09T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-09T22:16:23.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Turtle PowerReina and I have turtles.  3 of 'em, that we bought from Chinatown at 2 for $5.  We initially had four, but one of 'em got eaten by a bird when we first got them and left them in the sun to bask.  We were originally going to name them after Ninja Turtles, but 3 ninja turtles is depressing.So their names are CFT (see CFP), Turtle and Slider.  They're red-eared sliders and there're</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109738521142935008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109738521142935008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109738521142935008' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109722618570150862</id><published>2004-10-08T01:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T02:03:12.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>9 to 9. (that's a play on words, beeyotch)the interesting thing about working from home is that really, you're just as apt to be living at work.  it's hard to delineate the two.  here it is, 2 am, i've been up since 6:30 am, and i'm still at it.  somehow this just happens.  let's do the break-down.pluses:1. no traffic.2. no morning radio shows.3. can drink at work, no problem.minuses:1.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109722618570150862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109722618570150862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109722618570150862' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109701647030521144</id><published>2004-10-05T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-05T15:47:57.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>DUH.The Dilbert Ultimate House  This is the most rad house EVER.  And when I'm a multi-millionaire, I'm going to build it.  Or something similar to it.  Rooms I don't need: Craftsroom.  Woman's Office (uh, you know, unless you want it, Reina).  Some of my favorite features: tankless water heater, flexible piping, courtyard, rounded corners, proper directional orientation/layout, thermal mass </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109701647030521144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109701647030521144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109701647030521144' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109695718592967691</id><published>2004-10-04T23:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T23:19:58.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Drink.Jack Daniels is lowering the alcoholic content of their recipe from the current 86 proof to 80 proof, or 3% by volume.  Apparently 15 years ago they lowered the content from 90 proof to 80 proof.  I'm not sure why, but this saddens me.About a week ago, my dad confronted me about whether or not I had a problem with drinking.  I'm not sure how this came up, maybe it's the fact that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109695718592967691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109695718592967691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109695718592967691' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109634588714500675</id><published>2004-09-27T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-27T21:31:50.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Nice Bumper Sticker.Driving home from San Diego, there's a 45 mile stretch of 2-lane freeway.  Today, I (along with like, 20-some other cars) got stuck behind a woman driving a Mercury M-something or other, who decided, in the fast lane, to match the speed of the 55-mph big rig in the slow-lane.  Anyway, her bumper sticker?In bright yellow:'If It Can Be Done ... I Can Be the One!"Ah yes.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109634588714500675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109634588714500675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_09_26_archive.html#109634588714500675' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109577558839196026</id><published>2004-09-21T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-21T07:06:34.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Trees are Really Sneezing Today.I woke up this morning all I hear is just wind.  And the light is that sort of muted autumn light-through-smog-yellow that, to be honest, I've really missed about Riverside.  Living in San Diego, you get more of a foggy-bottom type morning, rather than the "it's cold but it don't look it" type autumn morning that are popular here in Riverside.I tell you, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109577558839196026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109577558839196026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_09_19_archive.html#109577558839196026' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-109542297485593663</id><published>2004-09-17T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-17T05:13:16.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My Life Now.4:30 am.  I hear a scritching and a scratching.  Regular readers of my blog, this sounds familiar.  But this time instead of my Comic Con shit hitting the floor, I hear my cat, Belle, tearing away like a madman.  Because this is the 3rd time she has cornered/brought a mouse/rat into my room, I know where it is.  Mouses and Rats like the corner where I keep my guitar.  Anyway, yada</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109542297485593663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/109542297485593663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_09_12_archive.html#109542297485593663' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108809378591302919</id><published>2004-06-24T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-24T09:18:40.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>YOUAREALLRAD.ha!  here's an e-mail i just received:Hello DOUGLAS YOUAREALLRAD WONGPhotographs of DOUGLAS YOUAREALLRAD WONG are now available on-line from the following event:     UCSD - Muir CollegeTo view these photographs at no obligation, please visit: http://www.gradphotos.com.  Your password is: ZWZEN.  Hurry!  The order deadline for this event is: 7/7/2004....Guess what I had </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108809378591302919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108809378591302919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_06_20_archive.html#108809378591302919' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108792945327299396</id><published>2004-06-22T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-22T11:42:52.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Made It or Out With A Bang.SubjectCourseTitleUnitsGradePointsMUS172Computer Music II4.00A+16.00MUS173Mixing &amp; Editing4.00A16.00MUS175Musical Psychoacoustics4.00A16.00THDR111Directing Acting Process4.00A+16.00Term Credits Passed:16.00Term Grade Points:64.00Term GPA Credits:16.00Term GPA:4.00UC-GPA:3.631As you may recall, the Cum Laude break was 3.607.  ... FUCK YEAH, MOTHERFUCKERS!  Woo!1.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108792945327299396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108792945327299396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_06_20_archive.html#108792945327299396' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108786010532733107</id><published>2004-06-21T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-21T16:53:07.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Old Picture.I don't know what this picture is from, but it is rad.  oh-so-rad.  note the little nips drawn into the Os of "boobies."  Note the dude on the right with the peace sign.  Ah yes.  Radness on a sheet of posterboard.LinktoComments('83')Comment</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108786010532733107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108786010532733107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_06_20_archive.html#108786010532733107' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108706483088483849</id><published>2004-06-12T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-12T11:27:14.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Feeling Weird.Hemingway once remarked that the end of anything is sad.  I graduate in a few hours and by all accounts, this is supposed to be a happy, joyous occasion.  But I got to tell you something about being "Done."  Patrick said that he wished he had had a chance to feel "done" before his graduation (at Berkeley, graduations occur in the midst of finals).  But it's not a good feeling, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108706483088483849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108706483088483849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_06_06_archive.html#108706483088483849' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108677133421419724</id><published>2004-06-09T01:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T01:55:39.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Professor Shlomo Dubnov is the man.Had a final today.  Afterwards, the Professor took six of us to Round Table and, get this, bought us pizza and beer.  Why, you ask?  (Or maybe you don't, but if so, fuck you, the entire purpose of this website is to, some would say, answer the questions you have about me and my life)  Because at the beginning of the quarter, this dude, Joey Hammer asked if we </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108677133421419724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108677133421419724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_06_06_archive.html#108677133421419724' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108661908499089401</id><published>2004-06-07T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-07T07:38:08.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Last final.It has been a long time since I've had any reason to stay up for four days with little to no sleep.  I'm one of those "ah, fuck it." type of guys, for the most part.  And I got to say, there's some sort of jellification of the mind that goes on there, a weird gut feeling somewhere between existence as a whole and not.  WTF is that, man?LinktoComments('80')Comment</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108661908499089401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108661908499089401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_06_06_archive.html#108661908499089401' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108645508064968887</id><published>2004-06-05T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-05T10:04:44.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Testy Behavior.I worry a bit about tests.  Tests irritate the hell out of me, because they require a certain level of knowledge that isn't required in the real world.  You know, real-world situation, somebody asks you something, and you don't need to know right then, you can just look it up and find out.  That's what Google's for, right?Projects and papers are where it's at, even if they take</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108645508064968887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108645508064968887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_30_archive.html#108645508064968887' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108627757604531578</id><published>2004-06-03T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-03T08:46:20.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Eyes Heavy With Sleep.In Sheena's last post, she mentions something about how if she has eye-poop, people should let her know.  I think it would be worthy to note that most people wouldn't know eye-poop if they saw it (except maybe that runny stuff that comes out of dogs eyes and gets lodged in their fur, what the fuck is that stuff).  Allow me to clarify.Eye-poop is sleep.  And I mean sleep,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108627757604531578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108627757604531578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_30_archive.html#108627757604531578' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108594643188818888</id><published>2004-05-30T12:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-30T12:57:31.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Done with School?  Bored?Play the Bush Game!  Play as characters as varied as Jessica Lynch and Jesus, Michael Moore and Mr. T to collect the 5 keys of Voltron and save America from the Bush Administration.  The game takes about 45 minutes to play from start to finish, but at least check it out.Also, Al Gore gave an incredible speech at NYU.Listen: Mp3Read: TranscriptorWatch at MoveOn.org</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108594643188818888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108594643188818888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_30_archive.html#108594643188818888' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108588275686393513</id><published>2004-05-29T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-30T12:56:53.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Goals and StuffRan into my old sophomore year roommate, Ed, on Friday.  Haven't seen him in a couple years.  He's doing well, going to Stanford to get a ph.D in Physics either next year, or in a couple years after he's done studying at Cambridge.  Talked to him about how a few of our old high school co-horts are getting married.  He writes a column, there're some old issues at his website.It's</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108588275686393513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108588275686393513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108588275686393513' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108576269793492168</id><published>2004-05-28T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-28T09:45:01.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On My Way to Cum Laude!So as many of you (the three folks who visit here) know, I'm currently ass-close GPA wise to making Cum Laude (bastards who graduated last year had an ungodly high GPA average).  In order to push myself over the edge, the following grade combinations were required:A,A,A,BA,A,A-,B+A-,A-,A-,A-And I was pretty worried about it, because WTF, man, that's a hard fucking </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108576269793492168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108576269793492168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108576269793492168' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108506996303151430</id><published>2004-05-20T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-20T09:19:26.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Yay Stan.I'm going to take a moment and give a shout out to Stan whose blog "Mandatoriamosandandyrichterscaleofjusticedepartmentstore" deserves a look.  Pretty rad.Also, sadness to Inpassing.org and Madpony.com which both seem to have fallen off the face of the planet.  And also to this here blog, which continues to suck, but suck righteously and with growing fervor.LinktoComments('74')</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108506996303151430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108506996303151430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_16_archive.html#108506996303151430' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108474216333132295</id><published>2004-05-16T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T08:58:27.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Obligatory Graduating-Soon PostI had a dream last night about leaving the job I've held for four years (also, secretly playing the Contrabass and sneaking around underground tunnels.  you know how dreams go sometimes).  And it's a weird feeling and I thought it would be appropriate to post something about the fact that I'm graduating in June and how different things are going to be.  Make </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108474216333132295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108474216333132295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_16_archive.html#108474216333132295' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108448757409266950</id><published>2004-05-13T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-13T15:33:05.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Rad.heh.  cool.LinktoComments('72')Comment</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108448757409266950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108448757409266950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_09_archive.html#108448757409266950' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108412287814872448</id><published>2004-05-09T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-10T16:45:11.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Resign, Rumsfeld.That's the title of the cover story in The Economist.  It brings up all the points you don't want to miss:  That this, by Rumsfeld's definition, was a war about values.  That the ultimate goal of all this was supposed to be Freedom, Human Rights, and Democracy.  That images such as the one below, have become worldwide iconic representations of an American hypocrisy.  (and the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108412287814872448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108412287814872448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_09_archive.html#108412287814872448' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108408557953716332</id><published>2004-05-08T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-09T00:00:33.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Cotton Panties.When I was a kid and my cousin, Will, and I would talk about the girls of our dreams, his would always be in some sort of lace-lingerie or on occasion something made of silk, maybe even on a more daring day, he would admit to enjoying the thong (hey.  we were nine).  Mine would always be sporting cotton.  I don't know what it is, but it doesn't get any sexier than cotton.  Maybe</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108408557953716332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108408557953716332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_02_archive.html#108408557953716332' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108372534908040906</id><published>2004-05-04T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T19:53:53.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Freeway Slowdance or Self-Titled.Hey Guys.   Check it out, I got a freaking domain name and some webspace (finally).  Check it out, guys.  http://www.freewayslowdance.com...okay, did you have to click the back button because there wasn't anything there?  yeah, forgot to warn you about that.  i got the space this morning.  but i'll keep you posted as to when, you know, you'll have to, like, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108372534908040906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108372534908040906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_02_archive.html#108372534908040906' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-108351700059957129</id><published>2004-05-02T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-02T10:01:35.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Koppell's ReadingAs I'm sure you're all aware, this Friday past Ted Koppell spent a full hour on "Nightline" showing a list of the names and photographs of those who sacrificed their lives in the on-going Iraqi War since its inception.  As I'm sure you're all further aware, Sinclair Broadcasting, which owns maybe a third of television stations nationwide, banned it.  Here's Senator John McCain's</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108351700059957129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/108351700059957129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_05_02_archive.html#108351700059957129' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-107411758049466189</id><published>2004-01-14T13:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-14T14:01:31.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Commentera class, mus171 specifically.  the professor.  "so the phasor~ object and cos~ object together equal osc~ object"  guy behind me.  "ah, i see."  professor.  "but with the +~ object, you can then add another phasor~"  guy behind me.  "mmmmm.  very useful."SHUT THE FUCK UP.there's a solid 100-some people in this class, and this dickhead behind me has come to the conclusion that he</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107411758049466189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107411758049466189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107411758049466189' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-107171281467953604</id><published>2003-12-17T18:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-17T18:01:34.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Screenname: DigI want the screenname "dig".  But unfortunately AOL does not automatically delete SNs after a designated period of time of not-logging-on, nor do they allow someone to delete their own SN if they so desire.  So what's a guy to do?  I've decided that I will e-mail AOL and "Report a Bug" saying that they need to auto-delete old SNs, and I will do it at least once a day for the next </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107171281467953604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107171281467953604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107171281467953604' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-107168931335813842</id><published>2003-12-17T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-17T11:31:34.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Images: Failed.I was going to post a bunch of pictures, one of a deer running through a New York Subway station, one of a pregnant Heidi Klum, a couple of some t-shirts, and a couple of my girlfriend and myself.  But the server I use to host my images is down.So no dice.  I'll edit this post for awesome later on.In the meantime ... I'll direct your attention to snapple fact number #25.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107168931335813842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107168931335813842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107168931335813842' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-107154305532120714</id><published>2003-12-15T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-15T18:53:15.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Santorum: It's on the tip of your tongue.my cousin has, in his profile, two definitions of words that are common slang:Weak SauceandGinormousnow, of course, i approve because those words are badass, but it makes me wonder just how certain words are coined.  are ginormous and weak sauce in a hip-pop song, a la Hova or thurr?  Or did someone write a book which introduced the term, a la </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107154305532120714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107154305532120714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107154305532120714' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-107119594268592377</id><published>2003-12-11T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T18:27:53.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Excuses, Excuses.You want to know why I haven't been posting much lately?  I'll tell you why (afterall, that's the whole point of the blog).  Because it's the winter, and being that I live in a garage, it's #$)*&amp;! cold.  and what do i do when it gets cold?  i go inside the damn house, where it isn't that cold.  or i go to reina's house, where it's oh-so-warm."I'll live in a garage!" I thought.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107119594268592377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107119594268592377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_12_07_archive.html#107119594268592377' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-107117246846319442</id><published>2003-12-11T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T11:55:35.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Things Best Left UnsaidHa!  Overheard in the commuter lounge.Boyfriend: I heard the Irish have small penises.Girlfriend:  Oh.  Aren't you Irish?OucH!LinktoComments('62')Comment</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107117246846319442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107117246846319442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_12_07_archive.html#107117246846319442' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-107064599567431739</id><published>2003-12-05T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-05T09:41:07.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Peter Fonda @ McDonald'sWent to this catered party with Peter Fonda (of 1969's iconic film 'Easy Rider') at Marianne (heir to the Zenith throne) McDonald's house out in Del Mar.  Some highlights.1. $250,000 Concert Grand Steinway &amp; Sons2. A band called Dick Jelly (who I would link to, but their website is impossible to find) whose Lead Singer was a 4 foot-something Asian chick with enormous/</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107064599567431739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/107064599567431739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_11_30_archive.html#107064599567431739' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106980866341382886</id><published>2003-11-25T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-05T09:39:56.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Snakes and Ladders, Part Deuxokay, folks. new information after, what is apparently a week of thought/research on the matter. lisa molle, from high school, who i haven't spoken to in 3 years or so, IM'd me to say that in Canada, it was Snakes and Ladders and she thought this was because of the close connection between Britain and Canada. we discussed this further and thought that given the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106980866341382886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106980866341382886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_11_23_archive.html#106980866341382886' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106919560165091061</id><published>2003-11-18T14:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-18T14:47:15.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Snakes and Ladders? chutes and ladders in britain is called "snakes and ladders" and they have little snakes instead of slides....why is this?  do they not have slides in britain?  i've never been a big fan of slides, but it should be a basic childhood rite of passage.  maybe they have them, but their crazy british name is too long to put on the box.  i asked this british chick out in the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106919560165091061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106919560165091061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_11_16_archive.html#106919560165091061' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106900793063429533</id><published>2003-11-16T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-18T14:47:01.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I hate this game.Side Note: Patrick has been blogging well lately, and I feel I need to step up. Yesterday I took Kelly out for her 21st. Happy Birthday Kelly. What have I been doing in lieu of blogging? If I were to tell you I've been hanging out with beautiful people, I would not be lying. If I were to tell you I've been going out and having a grand time putting off work, I would not be </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106900793063429533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106900793063429533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_11_16_archive.html#106900793063429533' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106850480762781152</id><published>2003-11-10T14:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-10T14:53:51.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Basically, Stupid as Fuck.About 30 seconds ago, I used the word "essentially."...I hate that word.  Two words: "basically" and "essentially" are the most simultaneously pretentious and moronic words out there.  What possible use do they have in making your statement more clear?  None whatsoever.  So why say it?  The two words have become the "Ums" of those who want to appear smarter than </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106850480762781152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106850480762781152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_11_09_archive.html#106850480762781152' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106816149313212965</id><published>2003-11-06T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-06T18:26:39.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Gift Giving.Today is Reina's birthday.  Happy Birthday, Reina!  And though I know she's going to read this and be like "WTH?" I have to admit, I have yet to get her a present.  Not for not having thought about it, or having gone out and looked for that perfect present, but giving gifts is something I'm not terribly good at.It takes a lot of thought to give a fantastic gift.  At the very least,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106816149313212965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106816149313212965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_11_02_archive.html#106816149313212965' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106779905946398017</id><published>2003-11-02T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-02T10:53:34.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Update 2.The smoke cleared a couple days ago.  It looks like the fire's under control now, so I thought I'd do one last update.  Everybody here is fine, the only person I know who lost their house was my friend's friend's brother.  All in all, 16 civilians died, 2427 homes/businesses were lost.  You've all seen the photos.I put a red dot where I live, those blocks on the left are supposed to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106779905946398017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106779905946398017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_11_02_archive.html#106779905946398017' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106758470144881533</id><published>2003-10-30T23:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-31T00:22:12.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I May Suck.  But At Least I Suck Cool.What is cool?  Definition 7 from Merriam-Webster:  7 slang a : very good : EXCELLENT; also : ALL RIGHT b : FASHIONABLE.  And the epitome of fashionable-all-right-excellence for a college house is to have a pool table.  If you have a pool table, you are set.  This is just the way things go, pool table = the elite.  And Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106758470144881533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106758470144881533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_10_26_archive.html#106758470144881533' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106747756350524126</id><published>2003-10-29T17:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-29T19:04:23.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Orange You Glad You're Not Him?.A few days ago Reina and I carved a pumpkin for Halloween.  We decided to name him "Chinese for Pumpkin" as in, the word pumpkin in chinese, but because neither of us knew what that was and it wasn't on Zhongwen.com, he ended up just being named "Chinese for Pumpkin."  CfP was a happy pumpkin.  We chose him because he had a stout stem and a round face.This is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106747756350524126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106747756350524126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_10_26_archive.html#106747756350524126' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106731667148803089</id><published>2003-10-27T20:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-27T20:51:17.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Update.I moved out of the garage because it was too smoky.  I will be inside until the smoke clears.  ...I can't help thinking about what's next.  Recession.  Terrorists.  War.  Fire.  Bush.  And Arnold.  More Fire.  Smoke.  Ash.  Even more fire.  I keep waiting for something else.  Like an earthquake.  Or Gabriel's Trumpet.  Or THE FLASH.  Yet, it goes on.  Which is good.  I guess.At a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106731667148803089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106731667148803089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_10_26_archive.html#106731667148803089' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575599.post-106718458628725376</id><published>2003-10-26T08:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-26T08:37:59.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>And the world burned.One thousand acres have been burned in Valley Center so far, and it's beginning to show for miles.  This morning at 7:30 am, the sky was rife with smoke and the sun struggled to clear the night from the horizon, despite its headstart this Daylight Savings morning.  Ash floats down from the sky like snow and it smells like the 4th of July.  And it is cold.LinktoComments('</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106718458628725376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3575599/posts/default/106718458628725376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://footprintx.blogspot.com/2003_10_26_archive.html#106718458628725376' title=''/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11299426784245346299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
