Category: Family

June 1, 2004 /

I have a new cell phone. I’m not really happy about this.

On the one hand, my family and I have had a chronic problem with going over our minutes, partly because we were all sharing the same plan and Ian and I used a lot more than Mom and Caitlan. We only had 800 minutes between the four of us, which didn’t work out that well. So it’s nice that Ian and I have our own plan, so Ian can ruin my credit instead of Mom’s. Also we have twice as many minutes to use, and now that I have Cingular unlimited wireless-to-wireless, I should be using significantly fewer minutes anyway.

On the other hand:

I have to transfer all my contacts from Layla. Manually.
This new phone is not Layla; it seems flimsier and less shiny, and definitely can’t be used as a flashlight.
One nice thing is that it doesn’t have a broken extendable antenna. Then again, it doesn’t have an extendable antenna at all, so when I have bad reception there’s not a lot I can do.
Oh, and the new phone is not red.
Plus its keypad buttons are that annoying two-in-one rocker style, which makes it more difficult to use without looking.
And there aren’t as many of them, which means reduced functionality.
But I can google from my pocket! Which is something I’ve always wanted to do.
But that’s going to end up costing me a lot of money, at a cent per kilobyte.

I don’t know, maybe I’ll learn to like it. I did with Layla. I still have Layla, in fact, although she doesn’t connect to anything anymore. I’ll probably take her battery out once I’ve got all my contacts and stuff transferred, to use as a backup, since it’s the same kind as the new one.

In many ways I still hate having a cell phone, but I’d grudgingly accepted Layla. This newcomer is not so easy to handle. I feel like a friend has moved away, and a smaller, more annoying person has taken her place.

The new phone does J2ME apps, though. I better get cracking if I’m going to port rfk.

May 30, 2004 /

(This entry is posted as dated in my pocket notebook.)

I’ve passed the Waddy Peytona exit probably a hundred times. For the first time in my life, I’m actually in Waddy, at a somewhat sleazy Citgo truck stop, in a back room with no windows. Ian is asleep on one end of the beaten couch; I’m writing at the other. By all accounts, we’re within a few miles of a tornado.

There’s a scattered copy of The Trucker, a half-sheet format free newspaper, on the floor. It appears to be largely concerned with rising diesel prices. Maria called two minutes ago to say that the heart of the storm should be where we are in about three minutes. The rain just slacked off a bit; it sounds like there’s hail mixed with it now. There’s a thick skylight over our heads, which makes me nervous, but it beats the big window-walls out front.

There’s a large TV back here, which is turned off, and a smaller cycling-ads set which is on. It’s connected to some kind of truck load monitor with four large buttons. Every ten minutes or so it shows “local weather,” by which it means the highs, lows and actual temperatures in five parts of Kentucky. Amusingly, it shows nothing related to storm or tornado status.

Maria just called again. Apparently the funnel clouds have dissipated just before reaching Waddy. It should be safe to drive in ten minutes or so.

April 8, 2004 /

I was going to write this whole whiny entry about how Ian never brings me the stuff he says he’s going to bring me, but really I don’t care that much. I’m just bored, and it’s being a very long work day. Entertain me!

March 13, 2004 /

I’m sending a packet of misdirected mail to my mother, only I don’t have a postal scale nor any way of getting to one. I judged its weight (by holding it in one hand and two sticks of butter in the other, and asking Maria’s friend Jackie to do the same) to be about 9 ozzes, which apparently costs $2.21 and thus consumed my last six stamps (= $2.22). Innovation!

Really hoping that’s enough postage now.

March 6, 2004 /

Last night Ian, Caitlan and I hopped in Ian’s car amidst pouring rain and drove down to Planet Thai in Lexington, where (as per Mom’s instructions) we surprised Joe at his birthday dinner. I’m not actually sure how old Joe is. My guess would be “bearded years old.”

In addition to Joe’s Eddie Bauer gift certificate, I got to give out the last of my California souvenirs–Joe got a t-shirt, Mom got a bar of Lily soap from the European-goods store in Lawrence, and Caitlan got a green Robin Hood hat from a vintage store in Berkeley (Ian had already received his copy of All Flesh Must Be Eaten). It was fun, especially since I had wrap-bagged the presents in the car, while sitting right in front of Caitlan.

Planet Thai was, by Mom and Joe’s well-honed Thai standards, a bit mediocre. Ian didn’t much like his pad thai, but I ate a whole lot of my crab fried rice. It was pretty subtle, though. It could have used about eight or ten more pounds of crab.

Ian and I left everybody else behind to continue on yet to Richmond, where we met the famous Katie and went bowling. Ian and Katie called each other names, and I bowled a two. This is harder than you’d think, especially with the gutter bumpers in.

Richmond doesn’t look strange yet, or maybe it doesn’t look strange anymore; I mentally moved out of there sometime during my senior year of high school. Not much has changed, except for the increase in liquor stores, which is rapidly approaching parity with the population.

It was a long night of driving, and I’m glad Ian was courteous enough to be my ride, especially with the roads as awful as they were at first. I fell asleep for a while on the way back (Mom and Dad drove me around when I was a baby to get me to sleep, so I pretty much always do this), and I think at one point I woke myself up by snoring. My neck hasn’t been quite right since, but on the other hand, I’m not dead in a car crash either. Ten points.

January 20, 2004 /

(Yale calls me and tells me that my brother is going to throw his desk off the roof of their house.)

Yale: … And there’s power lines and stuff down there, and I don’t think he should do it. So call him and tell him not to. Okay?

Me: Sure, Yale. (I hang up and dial Ian.) Can’t believe Yale’s trying to restrain Ian… (Ian picks up.) Hey?

Ian: Hey?

Me: Yale wants me to tell you not to

Ian: Already did!

January 2, 2004 /

As today’s Stone Soup points out, it’s actually pretty silly to even think about working today, but for some reason I did, and dragged myself out of bed at 6:30 just as normal. It was a little strange to be one of like four (as opposed to eighty) people waiting for an elevator, and a little stranger when all the lights on our part of the floor were deliberately off. When I read that comic strip and waited an hour and still only tech support was there, I took off like one of the wiser characters in a survival horror movie.

After that I mostly… slept? And played Double Dash. Maria got a GameCube for Christmas, so unless she bans me from using it I’ll probably never accomplish anything worthwhile again. We actually unlocked almost everything on New Year’s Eve, along with our stay-in-and-snack companion Lisa, but we lacked a memory card at that point and were bereft of saving ability. I got one of those on the aforementioned trip home from work today, so now we get to do it all again. This is a fine and noble thing.

Tonight it’s out to dinner at some fancy place where they make you eat so slowly that it takes two hours to finish the soup, then Strizzle Lizzle rehizzle, and finally sometime after midnight Ian and I will drive to the hinterlands and crash (as in sleep, not… hit things). The next morning, we and forty of our closest relatives will race tiny cars down a track for eight hours until one emerges supreme. Seriously. We’ve been doing it every year since before I was born.

December 27, 2003 /

Right, Christmas. It was good! The Adkins-Wood Collective borrowed the infamous Deb’s house (she was out of town, and we’re homeless) for the fastest gift-opening we’ve ever had, then left in the afternoon to come to Louisville and have dinner with Joe’s sister Laura. Who I guess is now my aunt? She’d probably be weirded out if I called her that. While there, I met her stepdaughter, who I guess is now my cousin?

Normally I’d make some crack now about the new definition of family units in the new millennium, but to tell the truth, I feel kinda behind. I just got my first step-cousin-in-law, man, everybody else has had theirs for years.

But yeah, the dinner was good and Joe embarrassed Ian and me (but mostly me) at the pool table. I got warm socks, emo hoodies, the first season of Highlander and as many copies of Finding Nemo as I have hands. Mom was at least a little taken in by our we-got-you-DVDs, what-you-don’t-have-a-DVD-player, oh-well-you-get-this-present-too gag, and that was good. In grand Brendanian tradition, I forced Blankets on Ian and Daredevil: Yellow on Caitlan, things with which they seemed cool.

Man, have you heard about Blankets? Just… just google it and read a little. It’s pretty much everything they say.

December 21, 2003 /

Drove to Urbana, Ohio. Saw paternal family. Paternal family had small babies. Babies were cute. Very happy to see babies. Drove back.

Long drive to Urbana, Ohio. Even when your brother does all the actual driving.

Going to bed now.

December 5, 2003 /

Do you, like any right-minded American, often find yourself daydreaming of the near-erotic qualities of homemade confectionery? Do you loathe the undead? In an attack simulation, would you be one of the fork-wielding souls who turned to spit your fury full in the gibbering face of the forces of Baron Samedi?

Hi, I’m Brendan Adkins. You may remember me from such films as Mission: Implausible and Pirate Isle 4: Rhinobreath’s Revenge. I’m here today to let you in on an exclusive opportunity, available for a limited time only: the chance to join your kindred spirits, the righteous and the hungry, in Zomziepie.

The benefits of the community are many. You’ll be able to pool your own zombie-combat wisdom with that of other experienced veterans, and you’ll have the privilege of sneak peeks at new and adventurous pie recipes. You’ll gain access to our 24-hour-a-day global database of undead activity, which you can conveniently check from the comfort of your pastry kitchen. In addition, with your membership dues, you’ll receive

nothing

And much more. The choice is clear: Zomziepie is the interweb’s hot spot for these rapidly converging fields. Get in on the ground floor–call today!

I’m Brendan Adkins.