January 30, 2013
To Be Human...
November 7, 2008
Peace, Blogspot
Well friends. It's been fun. You may be thinking to yourself, "No!! Don't go Jimmy! I love seeing what you write about absolutely nothing of interest to me!"
Okay... but only because you put it that way. I won't give up blogging; however I am moving to a new blogging platform. I'm giving up on Blogger and switching to Wordpress. It's much nicer.
So here's my NEW blog ! Leave some comments on my new blog to let me know how it feels? Better?? Worse?! More excruciating?! Let me know.
And as the first President of our nation George Washington used to say, "So long, f*ckers!"
Okay... but only because you put it that way. I won't give up blogging; however I am moving to a new blogging platform. I'm giving up on Blogger and switching to Wordpress. It's much nicer.
So here's my NEW blog ! Leave some comments on my new blog to let me know how it feels? Better?? Worse?! More excruciating?! Let me know.
And as the first President of our nation George Washington used to say, "So long, f*ckers!"
October 29, 2008
I Can Haz Recon?
My 11th and 12th days in Mexico were empty shells. I was still on my daily cycle of work, eat, excercise, sleep and there was no respite. Except one thing. Oh, one big thing; however I'm sure that nobody actually reading this would care. Bungie released a teaser for their next game, which we've now come to know as Halo 3: Recon. I'm not sure how many times I watched that teaser when I got back to the hotel. In fact, I may have skipped going to the Olympus Gimnasio just to sit in the dark, with the volume maxed so that I could better try and figure out what exactly they were showing us. The numerous frame-by-frame breakdowns that littered the Internets were stellar, and only helped to compound what I had already been able to decipher. All I knew was that I was excited for something, and it was most certainly a video game, and it was definitely set within the Halo universe. I could also look forward to the following day: Friday!
Friday the 13th
Okay, so the date wasn't the 13th, but it was my 13th day in Mexico, so it kinda works, right? Anyway, today marked the first day that fellow American employees would be joining me in Mexico (staying in the same hotel too!), so I was looking forward to making new friends. During my day at work they came near my desk to use an adjacent office for a conference call and I was able to touch base with them, at which point they invited me out to dinner with them. There were three of them, all who worked in procurement ("part-runners" as it was described to me by one of them). Having this event to look forward to made my day go faster... and the fact that my Guadalajaran friends and I went out for a two hour lunch didn't hurt either.
It was a beautiful day, with blue skies, lots of sunshine and a comfortable breeze to ensure we didn't get too warm. As we walked outside of IBM, the guys double-checked that I liked seafood, to which I replied, "Are you kidding me?!", I am, after all a seafood aficionado! After getting out into the parking lot, we loaded up two cars and made our way down the highway and into a dense urban area, with lots of people and street traffic. After about fifteen minutes of stop and go driving, we finally made it to our destination and parked on a side street. Immediately around the corner was a mobile food stand, taking up a spot on the street, with tables littered about the sidewalk. This sidewalk wrapped around a concrete brick wall, which was easily ten feet high, including the triple-level barbed wire on top. This wall also happened to be the attaching point for the gigantic tarp that was draped over all the tables as well as the food stand/cooking station.
There were no menus in this place and I didn't know what they had to offer, so my good friend David ordered on my behalf. For appetizers we each got seviche, which was served on a six inch corn tortilla with two fat slices of avocado on top. There was a plastic shopping bag of extra tortillas set in the center of our table, which came in handy once the mound of seviche started tumbling out all over my plate. Of course, being in Mexico there was a nice selection of hot sauces to accompany the extra tortillas, which I made ample use of, even after being warned that they would be too hot for my weak American little tongue. Hah, I laugh in the face of spiciness, and spit at its feet.
After this first delicious tasting, I wanted more... so much more! After a very short wait our main course came out. I don't know what it's called, and I don't exactly know how to describe it; but I'll try my best. Imagine a very heavy and large chalice, made of clear glass (if I had to guess I'd say its capacity was 2.5 cups, and weighed about 3 pounds, 6 ounces). Now fill this glass with a delicious, mystery liquid (shrimp and octopus stock maybe) and an assortment of seafood and vegetables including shrimp (de-tailed), thick slices of octopus tentacles, fat chunks of avocado, onions, and cucumber not to mention the spices. This was basically a cold soup, but simply calling it as such is demeaning and fails to convey the quality and taste that I experienced. I've always loved seafood and have long been a fan of sushi; however this takes the cake for the most joy that I've ever received from eating a seafood dish. It was served cold, and after adding the hot sauces along with some Heinz ketchup and freshly squeezed lime it was like an explosion of glory within my mouth.
I lost track of the entire world around me as I devoured every last bite of octopus, shrimp and avocado with nothing but joy and wonderment. As I sipped the last remnant of splendor out of my chalice I was aware of the truth: this meal was the greatest meal I had ever had in my entire life, hands down. Just transcribing my experience right now makes my mouth water and my stomach gurgle as if I haven't eaten in days. I would pay 35 dollars for this dish in a restaurant and not even think twice about it; yet when the bill came it was merely 80 pesos. About 8 American dollars for a seviche appetizer, an amazing octopus/shrimp thing, and a Squirt for my beverage. Now that's getting your money's worth.
Going out to eat on this Friday was marvelous considering that our normal time of departure for lunch was 1:00 pm; which meant that we returned to IBM at nearly 3 in the afternoon. Talk about a short day.. Before long I was sitting in the back of a taxi doing my best not to look out the windshield for fear of having a heart attack. I met my new part-running friends in the hotel lobby around 6:30 that evening as we sat around to talk about the goings-on with the supply chain and drink beer. Before long we had received a recommendation to try a newer restaurant called de Santos, which was supposed to be very delicious; however nobody told us that it would turn out to be two adventures within such a short period of time. What kind of adventures? Only the best kind...
The four of us piled into the taxi conveniently waiting for us outside of the hotel lobby. I took the front seat as one of the part-runners handed a scrawled note to the driver with the address of 'de Santos' on it. She looked at the scrap of paper like it was a receipt that she had specifically requested not to receive; as she stuffed it into a crevice in the car's center console and pulled the taxi cab slightly forward to ask another taxi driver about the location of the restaurant. He was an older gentleman and as such was able to give her a very detailed account of how to get there, which made me nervous. Nervous because our taxi driver was a young woman, no older than 30; however what concerned me was that it didn't appear that she was really paying attention to what he was telling her. Regardless, she sped off into the night and down the street in a direction that I had never traveled before. She took a few back streets and dark alleyways as my cohorts in the back seat wondered where exactly we were going.
I kept giving the taxi driver glances to observe the look on her face, which was somewhere between clueless and worried. I knew almost immediately that she had no idea where she was going and especially where this place was. After about thirty minutes of driving we exited the highway into a large traffic circle, with high rise hotels bordering a majority of its perimeter. As she came almost full circle I thought that we were going to be turning off at the last street (ie, a "left" from our original direction); lo and behold we didn't. In fact, we didn't go anywhere, as the woman drove around the circle three or four times before I asked if she knew where the restaurant was. With a firm "No", she gave us little hope. We were growing hungrier by the minute and one of my part-running friends suggested we just go to Chili's back near the hotel, which sounded to be like the best alternative. There was no point in circling this area any longer. I instructed the taxi driver to return us home, and she obliged; however as soon as we got to the on ramp for the highway, heading back towards where we came, I looked up and saw a sign from above. It was a dimly lit purple sign that read, 'de Santos' ! We had arrived! I was awe struck. I shouted, "There it is!" as the taxi driver slammed on the brakes, lurching my torso dangerously close to the dashboard.
Thankfully, since she drove us out of the way and took up a lot of our time, the fare was only about five dollars; which is a steal considering how much distance she traveled to get where we were. Regardless, we were just happy to be so close to eating. As we walked inside, we immediately noticed the "club-like" atmosphere of the establishment. There was a DJ on a second floor that looked to feature a dance floor with tables around the perimeter, and the lights in the entire place were very dim. There was loud music pumping bass into the expanse of the bottom floor, which featured a very long bar and surprisingly few tables. The hostess greeted us and asked for our reservations. Oh dear. We were so hungry to leave the hotel we had forgotten to ask the concierge to make reservations on our behalf. I told her that we had none, to which she replied that they didn't have any tables. Noticing ample space at the bar, I asked if that was an acceptable location for dining, to which she confirmed and allowed us to proceed. I was feeling pretty good about myself being able to converse the way that I had in the Spanish language on this evening, so I wanted to celebrate; with a nice steak.
I had heard nothing but good things about the quality of beef in Mexico, since every employee in Raleigh had suggested I get a steak while I have the chance, and that it was "the best cut of meat" they had ever tasted. After a quick glance at the menu I ordered the Ribeye, which was served with some kind of mashed potato and salad greens. After translating the menu for my colleagues, we ordered some cold brews and proceeded to watch the scenery. As it turned out, we had arrived right at the beginning of the dinner rush, as there was now a long line out the door. Most of the people coming into the restaurant were dressed up like they were going to the club, either that or the beach since most of the guys had sunglasses on. Regardless, it wasn't long before our dinners came out, which is precisely the moment that I soiled myself.
My steak was quite easily the largest portion of steak that I had ever had in front of me. Not only was it large, but it was served on top of the mashed potatoes, which were in turn on top of the salad greens, which is EXACTLY how I would've eaten my meal anyway! What marvelous joy this provided me with! I didn't even need to play with my food, I could just dive in! For anybody that knows me this is a rarity; and my only complaint about this presentation was that they forgot to enclose these three layers of deliciousness between two slices of bread. Despite this fact, I began to "dig in", as they say. The steak was cooked just right, with enough blood to make me feel like a barbarian, but also cooked enough for me to not get Salmonella or E. Coli or Tape worms. It was juicy like a watermelon and tasted of pure win. The mashed potatoes were salty, with a hint of bacon and chives, and the fact that every bite of steak brought along with it a taste of creamy mashed potatoes and bacon just made my brain joygasm. It was a fantastic meal, and a spectacular steak that will not be soon forgotten. I can't say it was the "finest cut of meat" that I've ever tasted, but it certainly was the best in terms of presentation since I didn't have to do any work before devouring it. As we paid our checks I asked myself, "How could this day get any better?" Well I'll tell you how it could get better: with another adventure!
We left the restaurant and wandered out towards the street, which wasn't the best place to be standing considering it was basically a highway entry ramp; however it only took a matter of seconds to flag down a taxi. As we piled into the vehicle, I once again took the passenger seat and instructed the driver to take us to the hotel. Thankfully, every taxi driver so far knew the location of "Hotel Presidente", so explaining where we were going was never a problem. With a quick nod we were off, as the taxi driver took us on a very unexpected route, which looked nothing like the route we had used to get there. It was about ten minutes before we were in sight of the hotel, which was either impressive on his part or depressing on the first taxi lady's part; and it was about five seconds too late when I shouted "Presidente!" as we sped past the hotel at 100 kilometers per hour. The driver immediately face-palmed himself and apologized as we headed in the direction of Taco & Charley's. As the driver came around the traffic circle to head back the other way, he was very apologetic. I told him not to worry about it and quickly realized that we were now passing the hotel in the opposite direction.
Unsure whether he was more comfortable making right-hand turns into the hotel, I hesitated before asking, "Are we going to El Presidente", to which he replied with another face-palm. I felt really bad at this point and didn't know whether I had done something wrong to make this guy continually forget where we were going. Either way, he made a sharp and violent turn onto a back street as I kept my eye on the skyline. I didn't know where we were, so being at the driver's mercy, I had no choice but to watch the top of the hotel peeking out to keep my bearings. We were within two blocks of the hotel when I finally realized that once again, the driver had passed the street that the hotel was on. Now this adventure had officially become extremely ridiculous, bordering on ludicrous. As a last ditch effort I told him to look at the towering black building on the skyline, and that was our destination. Hopefully this would be the last face-palm of the evening, and it was only another minute or so before he pulled into the hotel entrance. Going the wrong way, and blocking all traffic from leaving. Spectacular. We paid the man and tried not to wonder how many shots of tequila he was on; however it was hard to imagine a sober person performing the way that he had.
That night, as I relaxed to a healthy dose of Austin Powers I thought about my amazing day. Not only did I experience two spectacular meals, but I had two adventures within two hours of each other. I felt truly blessed at that moment, and as they say in such times: Effin A, Cotton. Effin A...
Friday the 13th
Okay, so the date wasn't the 13th, but it was my 13th day in Mexico, so it kinda works, right? Anyway, today marked the first day that fellow American employees would be joining me in Mexico (staying in the same hotel too!), so I was looking forward to making new friends. During my day at work they came near my desk to use an adjacent office for a conference call and I was able to touch base with them, at which point they invited me out to dinner with them. There were three of them, all who worked in procurement ("part-runners" as it was described to me by one of them). Having this event to look forward to made my day go faster... and the fact that my Guadalajaran friends and I went out for a two hour lunch didn't hurt either.
It was a beautiful day, with blue skies, lots of sunshine and a comfortable breeze to ensure we didn't get too warm. As we walked outside of IBM, the guys double-checked that I liked seafood, to which I replied, "Are you kidding me?!", I am, after all a seafood aficionado! After getting out into the parking lot, we loaded up two cars and made our way down the highway and into a dense urban area, with lots of people and street traffic. After about fifteen minutes of stop and go driving, we finally made it to our destination and parked on a side street. Immediately around the corner was a mobile food stand, taking up a spot on the street, with tables littered about the sidewalk. This sidewalk wrapped around a concrete brick wall, which was easily ten feet high, including the triple-level barbed wire on top. This wall also happened to be the attaching point for the gigantic tarp that was draped over all the tables as well as the food stand/cooking station.
There were no menus in this place and I didn't know what they had to offer, so my good friend David ordered on my behalf. For appetizers we each got seviche, which was served on a six inch corn tortilla with two fat slices of avocado on top. There was a plastic shopping bag of extra tortillas set in the center of our table, which came in handy once the mound of seviche started tumbling out all over my plate. Of course, being in Mexico there was a nice selection of hot sauces to accompany the extra tortillas, which I made ample use of, even after being warned that they would be too hot for my weak American little tongue. Hah, I laugh in the face of spiciness, and spit at its feet.
After this first delicious tasting, I wanted more... so much more! After a very short wait our main course came out. I don't know what it's called, and I don't exactly know how to describe it; but I'll try my best. Imagine a very heavy and large chalice, made of clear glass (if I had to guess I'd say its capacity was 2.5 cups, and weighed about 3 pounds, 6 ounces). Now fill this glass with a delicious, mystery liquid (shrimp and octopus stock maybe) and an assortment of seafood and vegetables including shrimp (de-tailed), thick slices of octopus tentacles, fat chunks of avocado, onions, and cucumber not to mention the spices. This was basically a cold soup, but simply calling it as such is demeaning and fails to convey the quality and taste that I experienced. I've always loved seafood and have long been a fan of sushi; however this takes the cake for the most joy that I've ever received from eating a seafood dish. It was served cold, and after adding the hot sauces along with some Heinz ketchup and freshly squeezed lime it was like an explosion of glory within my mouth.
I lost track of the entire world around me as I devoured every last bite of octopus, shrimp and avocado with nothing but joy and wonderment. As I sipped the last remnant of splendor out of my chalice I was aware of the truth: this meal was the greatest meal I had ever had in my entire life, hands down. Just transcribing my experience right now makes my mouth water and my stomach gurgle as if I haven't eaten in days. I would pay 35 dollars for this dish in a restaurant and not even think twice about it; yet when the bill came it was merely 80 pesos. About 8 American dollars for a seviche appetizer, an amazing octopus/shrimp thing, and a Squirt for my beverage. Now that's getting your money's worth.
Going out to eat on this Friday was marvelous considering that our normal time of departure for lunch was 1:00 pm; which meant that we returned to IBM at nearly 3 in the afternoon. Talk about a short day.. Before long I was sitting in the back of a taxi doing my best not to look out the windshield for fear of having a heart attack. I met my new part-running friends in the hotel lobby around 6:30 that evening as we sat around to talk about the goings-on with the supply chain and drink beer. Before long we had received a recommendation to try a newer restaurant called de Santos, which was supposed to be very delicious; however nobody told us that it would turn out to be two adventures within such a short period of time. What kind of adventures? Only the best kind...
The four of us piled into the taxi conveniently waiting for us outside of the hotel lobby. I took the front seat as one of the part-runners handed a scrawled note to the driver with the address of 'de Santos' on it. She looked at the scrap of paper like it was a receipt that she had specifically requested not to receive; as she stuffed it into a crevice in the car's center console and pulled the taxi cab slightly forward to ask another taxi driver about the location of the restaurant. He was an older gentleman and as such was able to give her a very detailed account of how to get there, which made me nervous. Nervous because our taxi driver was a young woman, no older than 30; however what concerned me was that it didn't appear that she was really paying attention to what he was telling her. Regardless, she sped off into the night and down the street in a direction that I had never traveled before. She took a few back streets and dark alleyways as my cohorts in the back seat wondered where exactly we were going.
I kept giving the taxi driver glances to observe the look on her face, which was somewhere between clueless and worried. I knew almost immediately that she had no idea where she was going and especially where this place was. After about thirty minutes of driving we exited the highway into a large traffic circle, with high rise hotels bordering a majority of its perimeter. As she came almost full circle I thought that we were going to be turning off at the last street (ie, a "left" from our original direction); lo and behold we didn't. In fact, we didn't go anywhere, as the woman drove around the circle three or four times before I asked if she knew where the restaurant was. With a firm "No", she gave us little hope. We were growing hungrier by the minute and one of my part-running friends suggested we just go to Chili's back near the hotel, which sounded to be like the best alternative. There was no point in circling this area any longer. I instructed the taxi driver to return us home, and she obliged; however as soon as we got to the on ramp for the highway, heading back towards where we came, I looked up and saw a sign from above. It was a dimly lit purple sign that read, 'de Santos' ! We had arrived! I was awe struck. I shouted, "There it is!" as the taxi driver slammed on the brakes, lurching my torso dangerously close to the dashboard.
Thankfully, since she drove us out of the way and took up a lot of our time, the fare was only about five dollars; which is a steal considering how much distance she traveled to get where we were. Regardless, we were just happy to be so close to eating. As we walked inside, we immediately noticed the "club-like" atmosphere of the establishment. There was a DJ on a second floor that looked to feature a dance floor with tables around the perimeter, and the lights in the entire place were very dim. There was loud music pumping bass into the expanse of the bottom floor, which featured a very long bar and surprisingly few tables. The hostess greeted us and asked for our reservations. Oh dear. We were so hungry to leave the hotel we had forgotten to ask the concierge to make reservations on our behalf. I told her that we had none, to which she replied that they didn't have any tables. Noticing ample space at the bar, I asked if that was an acceptable location for dining, to which she confirmed and allowed us to proceed. I was feeling pretty good about myself being able to converse the way that I had in the Spanish language on this evening, so I wanted to celebrate; with a nice steak.
I had heard nothing but good things about the quality of beef in Mexico, since every employee in Raleigh had suggested I get a steak while I have the chance, and that it was "the best cut of meat" they had ever tasted. After a quick glance at the menu I ordered the Ribeye, which was served with some kind of mashed potato and salad greens. After translating the menu for my colleagues, we ordered some cold brews and proceeded to watch the scenery. As it turned out, we had arrived right at the beginning of the dinner rush, as there was now a long line out the door. Most of the people coming into the restaurant were dressed up like they were going to the club, either that or the beach since most of the guys had sunglasses on. Regardless, it wasn't long before our dinners came out, which is precisely the moment that I soiled myself.
My steak was quite easily the largest portion of steak that I had ever had in front of me. Not only was it large, but it was served on top of the mashed potatoes, which were in turn on top of the salad greens, which is EXACTLY how I would've eaten my meal anyway! What marvelous joy this provided me with! I didn't even need to play with my food, I could just dive in! For anybody that knows me this is a rarity; and my only complaint about this presentation was that they forgot to enclose these three layers of deliciousness between two slices of bread. Despite this fact, I began to "dig in", as they say. The steak was cooked just right, with enough blood to make me feel like a barbarian, but also cooked enough for me to not get Salmonella or E. Coli or Tape worms. It was juicy like a watermelon and tasted of pure win. The mashed potatoes were salty, with a hint of bacon and chives, and the fact that every bite of steak brought along with it a taste of creamy mashed potatoes and bacon just made my brain joygasm. It was a fantastic meal, and a spectacular steak that will not be soon forgotten. I can't say it was the "finest cut of meat" that I've ever tasted, but it certainly was the best in terms of presentation since I didn't have to do any work before devouring it. As we paid our checks I asked myself, "How could this day get any better?" Well I'll tell you how it could get better: with another adventure!
We left the restaurant and wandered out towards the street, which wasn't the best place to be standing considering it was basically a highway entry ramp; however it only took a matter of seconds to flag down a taxi. As we piled into the vehicle, I once again took the passenger seat and instructed the driver to take us to the hotel. Thankfully, every taxi driver so far knew the location of "Hotel Presidente", so explaining where we were going was never a problem. With a quick nod we were off, as the taxi driver took us on a very unexpected route, which looked nothing like the route we had used to get there. It was about ten minutes before we were in sight of the hotel, which was either impressive on his part or depressing on the first taxi lady's part; and it was about five seconds too late when I shouted "Presidente!" as we sped past the hotel at 100 kilometers per hour. The driver immediately face-palmed himself and apologized as we headed in the direction of Taco & Charley's. As the driver came around the traffic circle to head back the other way, he was very apologetic. I told him not to worry about it and quickly realized that we were now passing the hotel in the opposite direction.
Unsure whether he was more comfortable making right-hand turns into the hotel, I hesitated before asking, "Are we going to El Presidente", to which he replied with another face-palm. I felt really bad at this point and didn't know whether I had done something wrong to make this guy continually forget where we were going. Either way, he made a sharp and violent turn onto a back street as I kept my eye on the skyline. I didn't know where we were, so being at the driver's mercy, I had no choice but to watch the top of the hotel peeking out to keep my bearings. We were within two blocks of the hotel when I finally realized that once again, the driver had passed the street that the hotel was on. Now this adventure had officially become extremely ridiculous, bordering on ludicrous. As a last ditch effort I told him to look at the towering black building on the skyline, and that was our destination. Hopefully this would be the last face-palm of the evening, and it was only another minute or so before he pulled into the hotel entrance. Going the wrong way, and blocking all traffic from leaving. Spectacular. We paid the man and tried not to wonder how many shots of tequila he was on; however it was hard to imagine a sober person performing the way that he had.
That night, as I relaxed to a healthy dose of Austin Powers I thought about my amazing day. Not only did I experience two spectacular meals, but I had two adventures within two hours of each other. I felt truly blessed at that moment, and as they say in such times: Effin A, Cotton. Effin A...
October 27, 2008
The Dash Don't Be Silent
Before I get back to my adventures, let me share a lol with you. This came from drunkcyclist.com and I just don't know what to say...
Day 10, Tuesday.
I fell into a nasty habit of watching fire ants while waiting for my taxi after work. There was a concrete block that I would sit on, which was surrounded by a few inches of dirt in every direction. The first few days of sitting on that spot I noticed an ant or two, but never really cared to pay them any attention. After a few days I noticed something peculiar about the ants. What drew my attention was that there were multiple kinds of ants, and they weren't fighting. They would walk up to each other, sniff, and continue working together to carry food back to their nest, which they shared. Some of these ants had gigantic, bulbous, bright red heads, with a dark brown body. Others were long, red, and skinny, while others still were standard black carpenter ants. After the first time that I noticed this, I went home to research the ants that were indigenous to Mexico and learned a neat fact.
Fire ants are aggressive creatures, yet they don't always kill their enemies. Many times they will "recruit" other species of ants after a decisive win against their colony. After enough death has been extolled onto the opposing nest, they round up the survivors and use recruitment pheromones to force their newfound friends into working for their colony. These new "recruits" are enslaved and forced into labor camps, where they will eventually expire and are then used for food. Also, fire ants don't typically have a one-queen colony. Since their tunnels can be anywhere from 50 to 100 feet long, they'll sometimes have multiple queens, each with their own dedicated throne room. Once a queen dies, the colony does not go batshit insane, they simply reallocate the dead queen's food to another chamber. Then they eat her...
I heard the familiar sound of cheap tires on the cobble stone parking lot, and looked up from my fascinating foray into the secret lives of ants. My taxi had arrived, and the driver looked way too excited to be stuck in a car all day when it was 80 degrees and humid. As we made our way out of the technology campus and barreled down the highway towards a wall of parked vehicles the driver started squawking on his CB radio. After a few exchanges with dispatch he turned around to face me and said, "Traffic accident!" in the way that you announce that your friend is coming over with a bottle of Maker's Mark after the kegs are all tapped.
After nearly 30 minutes of stop and go driving we finally got to the scene of the accident, which was only about 10 miles away from our starting point. To be quite honest I don't know the full extent of the damage, or how many cars were involved. I was only able to positively ID two of the damaged cars. The first was a small, black Chevy that looked much like an Aveo. This car was resting in the middle of the highway on its driver side door. There was a policeman standing on top of the car, peering out into the mass of backed-up cars. The second suspect car was some kind of Toyota pickup. This vehicle was teetering on the edge of the highway, with its front end dangling over an off-ramp that dropped down below street level. The damage to this vehicle was minimal, and it may have just so happened to received the wrong end of the stick, if you know what I mean.
Now, why did I say that I didn't know how many cars were involved in this accident? Well, there were a number of cars parked on the side of the road, and there were people standing everywhere. Some people had walked over from buildings that lined the highway, and some were sitting in their cars peering out from the shoulders. Almost every single car that wasn't moving however, had some type of damage to the body. I don't know whether this damage was as a direct result of the accident, or if these folks simply had the misfortune of experience fender benders prior to this episode. Regardless, there was a lot of confusion and a lot of mayhem everywhere. I didn't see any people that appeared hurt, or in need of assistance so at least there was one positive. After we passed the scene, it was a quick 20 minutes back to the hotel for some quality time in the Lobby bar.
October 17, 2008
Epic Win
Sorry that I haven't been keeping up with the posts (I know you've been dying to hear about the rest of my trip), but work has been hectic as of late. Also, getting back to the States has allowed me to return to my favorite past-time, video games... With the recent release of Star Wars: The Force Unleashed and the awesomely-retro Mega Man 9, I've been pretty consumed. Recently I was admiring the work of Destructoid's craineum, who's building an amazing Mega Man costume for his son and came across the picture that's after the jump.
That picture alone inspired this blog post. I don't know why, and I'm sorry if you don't get it. It's just one of those things that brings back fond memories of playing Mega Man games with Taylor on his NES 2. Yes those were the days... The early 90's, writing video game reviews in the Abraham Lincoln school newspaper. And also Santa's Workshop. I knew that I was supposed to be a good boy and buy my family's christmas gifts there, but why did they have action figures? The sweetest action figures that you couldn't find anywhere else...
I promise that I will continue to chronicle my trip to Mexico! I have a draft post that I need to finish..... In fact I think I may have started that one on the airplane back to the US. It's coming though, don't worry. I won't play any video games until it's done :)
That picture alone inspired this blog post. I don't know why, and I'm sorry if you don't get it. It's just one of those things that brings back fond memories of playing Mega Man games with Taylor on his NES 2. Yes those were the days... The early 90's, writing video game reviews in the Abraham Lincoln school newspaper. And also Santa's Workshop. I knew that I was supposed to be a good boy and buy my family's christmas gifts there, but why did they have action figures? The sweetest action figures that you couldn't find anywhere else...
I promise that I will continue to chronicle my trip to Mexico! I have a draft post that I need to finish..... In fact I think I may have started that one on the airplane back to the US. It's coming though, don't worry. I won't play any video games until it's done :)
October 11, 2008
Friggin' Nihilists
There are few details of my trip to Mexico that are worth speaking of, and even fewer still that are worth writing about. On my first weekend I wandered around and took some photographs of the area surrounding the hotel. During the week I got into a nasty habit of work, eat, sleep; however there was one slight peculiarity that really got my heart going. Or rather my stomach...
Day 9. Realization
I hastily carried my tray back to the table. I had become quite used to not really knowing what I was eating, and just nodding and pointing through the steamy glass to pick out my meals in the cafeteria. There were plenty of people in line and I didn't want to anger anybody with my ignorance to Spanish cafeteria culture. Today was my first Monday in what I soon realized was a weekly lunch schedule, and Mondays were always a Cordon Bleu entree. As I sat down and greeted my fellow employees I couldn't help but think about work. Today I didn't have the pleasure of listening intently to decipher whose butt the guys were staring at or what kind of car they wanted to race; no my mind was stuck in code. As I took the first bite of my Chicken Cordon Bleu I was delighted by the creamy cheesiness of whatever had been stuffed inside of the breast. The breading on the outside of the chicken was just light enough that it didn't make the dish taste greasy, but rather perfectly complimented the creamy innards. As I thought about context-sensitive ignore cases for the baseboard management controller's system event log I took a sip of my orange flavored pop. The cool, citrus refreshment calmed the warm and gooey feeling in my tummy and was very satisfying. I went back to cutting pieces out of my piece of chicken when my stomach lurched and I suddenly was overcome by a feeling of great horror and acute sadness.
There were only two bites of my chicken left. I had been so lost in thought that I hadn't even noticed how quickly I had been eating. In fact, I might have even been inhaling; as it's hard to say otherwise. My mouth was agape and my stomach was doing somersaults as I stared at the bright pink center of my chicken breast. It was so uncooked that I thought I could still see the intact tendons of the once living bird. I had been eating not just undercooked chicken but raw, fresh from the freezer chicken that had probably been battered and flash fried by a careless kitchen employee. I was frozen in disbelief. I was going to die; alone and scared in Mexico. From eating raw chicken, no less. What a lame way to go.
It may have been ten minutes before my brain kicked in. I ate my grape jello and wondered how quickly salmonella would destroy my very being. I wondered if I could stick it out until the end of my work day or if I'd have to leave early and curl up on the side of the highway like a deer struck by a tractor-trailer. As I took one last slurp of delicious jello I took a closer look at my chicken dish and thought I saw something familar. A piece of the raw chicken had flaked away and revealed itself to be in a perfect square shape. That was odd; how could that happen? I used my fork with a surgeon's precision to dissect the chicken only to realize my folly; Chicken Cordon Bleu has ham mixed into the cheesy, creamy stuffing. My chicken wasn't undercooked I was just stupid.
Phew. No death on this day.
After this revelation I was free to finish the delicious chicken, that had only seconds before caused me to nearly have a panic attack and run out of the cafeteria screaming like a mad man. It was very yummy in my tummy. As we all finished eating and took our lunch-time walk across the parking lot, my colleagues kept asking me if I was home sick. I guess I hadn't really been paying attention and my mind was still running cycles and visualizing recovery code execution paths. Homesick? Yes, I guess a little bit. But mostly just lost in thought. When we returned from lunch, I got to work on saving the world with my fingers. I pounded away on my laptop's tiny, cramped keyboard and didn't stop until my problems had been vanquished. At 5:30 Central time they shut the Air Conditioning off. Then at 7:00 they shut the lights off. Thankfully I had just fixed the problem, and the world would survive to see another day. Feeling pretty good about myself, I made my way to the receptionist's desk and asked her, "¿Puede llamarme un taxi?", which she complied.
We were going home. We? Yes we. As in the royal we. Don't worry; the Dude Abides. I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there. The Dude. Takin' 'er easy for all us sinners. Shoosh. I sure hope he makes the finals. I guess that's the way the whole durned human comedy keeps perpetuatin' itself. In case you haven't guessed it by the nonsense at the beginning of this paragraph, The Big Lebowski was on Golden when I arrived home. So I called up room service, ordered some salad (I know, I know... bad idea) and enjoyed one of the finest films of all time.
Despite everything, this was a good day.
Day 9. Realization
I hastily carried my tray back to the table. I had become quite used to not really knowing what I was eating, and just nodding and pointing through the steamy glass to pick out my meals in the cafeteria. There were plenty of people in line and I didn't want to anger anybody with my ignorance to Spanish cafeteria culture. Today was my first Monday in what I soon realized was a weekly lunch schedule, and Mondays were always a Cordon Bleu entree. As I sat down and greeted my fellow employees I couldn't help but think about work. Today I didn't have the pleasure of listening intently to decipher whose butt the guys were staring at or what kind of car they wanted to race; no my mind was stuck in code. As I took the first bite of my Chicken Cordon Bleu I was delighted by the creamy cheesiness of whatever had been stuffed inside of the breast. The breading on the outside of the chicken was just light enough that it didn't make the dish taste greasy, but rather perfectly complimented the creamy innards. As I thought about context-sensitive ignore cases for the baseboard management controller's system event log I took a sip of my orange flavored pop. The cool, citrus refreshment calmed the warm and gooey feeling in my tummy and was very satisfying. I went back to cutting pieces out of my piece of chicken when my stomach lurched and I suddenly was overcome by a feeling of great horror and acute sadness.
There were only two bites of my chicken left. I had been so lost in thought that I hadn't even noticed how quickly I had been eating. In fact, I might have even been inhaling; as it's hard to say otherwise. My mouth was agape and my stomach was doing somersaults as I stared at the bright pink center of my chicken breast. It was so uncooked that I thought I could still see the intact tendons of the once living bird. I had been eating not just undercooked chicken but raw, fresh from the freezer chicken that had probably been battered and flash fried by a careless kitchen employee. I was frozen in disbelief. I was going to die; alone and scared in Mexico. From eating raw chicken, no less. What a lame way to go.
It may have been ten minutes before my brain kicked in. I ate my grape jello and wondered how quickly salmonella would destroy my very being. I wondered if I could stick it out until the end of my work day or if I'd have to leave early and curl up on the side of the highway like a deer struck by a tractor-trailer. As I took one last slurp of delicious jello I took a closer look at my chicken dish and thought I saw something familar. A piece of the raw chicken had flaked away and revealed itself to be in a perfect square shape. That was odd; how could that happen? I used my fork with a surgeon's precision to dissect the chicken only to realize my folly; Chicken Cordon Bleu has ham mixed into the cheesy, creamy stuffing. My chicken wasn't undercooked I was just stupid.
Phew. No death on this day.
After this revelation I was free to finish the delicious chicken, that had only seconds before caused me to nearly have a panic attack and run out of the cafeteria screaming like a mad man. It was very yummy in my tummy. As we all finished eating and took our lunch-time walk across the parking lot, my colleagues kept asking me if I was home sick. I guess I hadn't really been paying attention and my mind was still running cycles and visualizing recovery code execution paths. Homesick? Yes, I guess a little bit. But mostly just lost in thought. When we returned from lunch, I got to work on saving the world with my fingers. I pounded away on my laptop's tiny, cramped keyboard and didn't stop until my problems had been vanquished. At 5:30 Central time they shut the Air Conditioning off. Then at 7:00 they shut the lights off. Thankfully I had just fixed the problem, and the world would survive to see another day. Feeling pretty good about myself, I made my way to the receptionist's desk and asked her, "¿Puede llamarme un taxi?", which she complied.
We were going home. We? Yes we. As in the royal we. Don't worry; the Dude Abides. I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there. The Dude. Takin' 'er easy for all us sinners. Shoosh. I sure hope he makes the finals. I guess that's the way the whole durned human comedy keeps perpetuatin' itself. In case you haven't guessed it by the nonsense at the beginning of this paragraph, The Big Lebowski was on Golden when I arrived home. So I called up room service, ordered some salad (I know, I know... bad idea) and enjoyed one of the finest films of all time.
Despite everything, this was a good day.
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