Double Oh Nine

True to most New Years around here, it was rung in with an oil fondue, some drinks, and some games. It was so laid back in fact that the 'new year' rang in in the middle of a round of Scattergories which none of us were really willing to interrupt for the sake of watching some balls drop.

In fact, by the time midnight rolled around, the majority of us were still too overstuffed from dinner to enjoy a glass of cheap champagne, or cake. Amazingly, with all the experimentation with foods in hot oil (apparently deep-fried deviled eggs aren't bad; '..I'd deep fry a salad if I could'), no-one ended up violently ill. The whole holiday season in fact was pretty amazing in its lack of hangovers which I can't claim to have accomplished in probably the last 10 years, granting that it doesn't take much when you're 15.


As usual, I've set no resolutions for myself based on New Years, as I could just as arbitrarily pick any other day of the year to commit myself to a promise I won't keep.

A broken boiler pump on our 65 year old heating system, and a couple computers to build and set up for my buddies' dad has kept me conveniently distracted from those goals so far. I'm not complaining. They've each had their rewards, the case of beer from the latter hopefully going a long way in getting me through the writing and editing of one of those goals.

Clearly that goal isn't this post.

Nachos and Chili

Chili is followed closely by pizza as the most popular superbowl serving. Ironic given the prime sport interest of most in Mexico and Italy, a game actually played predominantly with...feet!

No comment there on the watered down, over smoothed, flavourless, North American beer that will be consumed in even greater volumes than chili. My homebrew doesn't fit the flavourless, over smoothed, or North American characters, but high volume consumption is a given.

Pats, 35; Giants, 31; me....who can predict?

Update: 9/11 still has its carry-over in the sports world as well. God bless America in the middle of baseball games still, and every year since, a depiction of the Declaration as part of the Superbowl leadup. One has to wonder how many of the viewers out there actually pay attention to, or think about the words contained within, particularly in the beer and food atmosphere described above. Showing it under that setting likely has more tendency to incite blind patriotism, rather than critical thought and well considered patriotism.

Anyways, the Patriots of New England are about to take the field, enough rambling.

I Say Taco, You Say Tuesday; Taco

You know you've let yourself become grossly out of shape when you pull a muscle in your shoulder reaching across your room to hit the snooze button on your alarm clock. Those 8 extra minutes before shoving off to work this morning seemed glorious at the time, but the pull that I felt all day long while moving desks, monitors and CPUs wasn't quite as much to be celebrated.

It was nice to be actually hard at it though after a pretty dry first day back in the working world. Being around the University again has been good to, and has gotten up a little bit of motivation to get my thesis officially done and move on to the grad school application process.

Taco Tuesday today at the Bomber though was more of a disappointment. What used to be something like $3 for a well stuffed taco has become a shell with lettuce that leaves you searching for anything more than a biteful of meat (or beans for those hopping on and off the vegetarian train) for $4.75; the extra cost presumably to help cover last year's Boston Pizza style makeover of the bar. The first thing a student going to a student bar wants after all is a nice wood finish, not cheap food and drink on their student budget. Never mind the loss of the couches and projector on which student requests for movies could be made throughout the afternoon.

Being that I'm working again, I am in no position to complain too much, but I'll be looking for something more fulfilling, and more quickly served with the same $4.75 for the rest of the term; likely some cold barley sandwiches at Kickoffs.