![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yrmencynI swear, I didn't disappear. I just went to Texas for a bit, is all. See, my license expires on August 3, 2006 (kind of weird to think of it expiring, since I've had it since I turned 18 in 2000; Texas has long renewal periods), and the online system was telling me my SSN didn't match my record (or something), so I had to go in person to a DPS office. Hence I didn't go to work on Friday, and now I have a lovely slip of paper that will extend my current card until the end of September while I wait 2-3 weeks for the new card to be printed in Austin and get sent to Nacogdoches. Add that to the registration sticker that I found waiting at my parents', and both I and my car are now properly accredited, just in time to drive to Kentucky on Friday (Fridays and Sundays are my travel days, apparently).
When I got to Nac on Friday afternoon, the parents were still out of town (they went on a big trip throughout Colorado and New Mexico, hitting a lot Silverton (I think?), Durango (?), Mesa Verde, and Santa Fe, among others), but both my siblings were in town, as was Elisa's boyfriend, so we went out to eat at Union Cafe to celebrate Elisa's birthday that passed earlier in the week. First time I've eaten at Union Cafe, and the Yins have done it again. It's crazy, it's like they can't make a bad restaurant. They started out with Szechuan (Chinese) back in the early 90s, then opened La Carreta (Mexican) in the late 90s, and now Union Cafe (Italian) just this past year, and they're all quite good restaurants. Although I do have to say, Union's grill guy needs to learn what a rare tuna steak is. Still, medium well tuna is tasty, too, and the rest of the food was largely excellent. Later that night Elisa named Kevin "Pie Boy". She thus needs a suitable nickname of her own in return/response/retaliation. Suggestions?
Celebrated Dad's birthday with a weird deconstructed lasagna I made (eh... needs some work, honestly, although I still think the idea's good) and the traditional World War I Spice Cake. While Mom and I were waiting for the pictures from the trip to be developed, we went out into the Kimbrook neighborhood over by the high school so I could practice starting my car uphill. See, it's scary to start a standard uphill, because it rolls backward until you catch it by applying the gas. Apply too much gas and you'll peel out, but too little will just have you stalling out, and consequently rolling backwards into the car behind you. Unfortunately, there's not much possibility to practice the skill in Baton Rouge, situated as it is on a coastal plain, but it's still a pertinent skill, since the exit from my neighborhood, inexplicably, is on a quite steep incline. The only one like it around. So I've been, since I got the Jetta, pretty much praying that I won't get stuck in the middle of a line of cars at that intersection, so I can just wait on the flat ground at the top. And on the occasions when I do get stuck, I've pretty much been making a spectacle of myself and peeling out. The problem is that panic mode sets in when I feel myself rolling backwards, and so I overreact. In a controlled situation in Kimbrook, I caught it fine, no rollback, no peeling, so I'm hoping that I can perform the skill in real-world conditions now that my conscious brain knows for a fact that I can.
Which is quite a lot of words to say, basically, "Look, it's like I'm 16! Again! Because I remember doing this with Dad in his truck back then! Mein Gott!"
The drive back today was uneventful, dominated by two major mind-wanderings: contemplating the shrimp brochette at the Nacogdoches restaurant Clear Springs, which is far better than it has any right to be (Nac really does have some good restaurants, now that I think of it), and insistent sex daydreams that, while not unenjoyable, posed the maddening problem of a raging hard-on on the interstate, with little to do about it except listen to NPR and hope that would chase it off (it did). This moment of TMI brought to you by my subconscious and a certain lack of internet discretion.
Erin-the-roommate quote, upon her seeing me in a purple Tshirt (Pétanque Louisianaise) and a pair of red nylon gym shorts while I did laundry: "Red and purple, quite daring! Bold splash of color! If I were gay I'd be excited." Which is pretty much unparseable as to intent, really.
Watched Gattaca tonight, only 9 years after it came out. Good film, echoes a lot of my mistrust of natal genetic modification. Plus, immolation. Better, in my opinion, than Kinsey, which I borrowed from Rebecca et al. at the same time and watched Thursday night (?).
When I got to Nac on Friday afternoon, the parents were still out of town (they went on a big trip throughout Colorado and New Mexico, hitting a lot Silverton (I think?), Durango (?), Mesa Verde, and Santa Fe, among others), but both my siblings were in town, as was Elisa's boyfriend, so we went out to eat at Union Cafe to celebrate Elisa's birthday that passed earlier in the week. First time I've eaten at Union Cafe, and the Yins have done it again. It's crazy, it's like they can't make a bad restaurant. They started out with Szechuan (Chinese) back in the early 90s, then opened La Carreta (Mexican) in the late 90s, and now Union Cafe (Italian) just this past year, and they're all quite good restaurants. Although I do have to say, Union's grill guy needs to learn what a rare tuna steak is. Still, medium well tuna is tasty, too, and the rest of the food was largely excellent. Later that night Elisa named Kevin "Pie Boy". She thus needs a suitable nickname of her own in return/response/retaliation. Suggestions?
Celebrated Dad's birthday with a weird deconstructed lasagna I made (eh... needs some work, honestly, although I still think the idea's good) and the traditional World War I Spice Cake. While Mom and I were waiting for the pictures from the trip to be developed, we went out into the Kimbrook neighborhood over by the high school so I could practice starting my car uphill. See, it's scary to start a standard uphill, because it rolls backward until you catch it by applying the gas. Apply too much gas and you'll peel out, but too little will just have you stalling out, and consequently rolling backwards into the car behind you. Unfortunately, there's not much possibility to practice the skill in Baton Rouge, situated as it is on a coastal plain, but it's still a pertinent skill, since the exit from my neighborhood, inexplicably, is on a quite steep incline. The only one like it around. So I've been, since I got the Jetta, pretty much praying that I won't get stuck in the middle of a line of cars at that intersection, so I can just wait on the flat ground at the top. And on the occasions when I do get stuck, I've pretty much been making a spectacle of myself and peeling out. The problem is that panic mode sets in when I feel myself rolling backwards, and so I overreact. In a controlled situation in Kimbrook, I caught it fine, no rollback, no peeling, so I'm hoping that I can perform the skill in real-world conditions now that my conscious brain knows for a fact that I can.
Which is quite a lot of words to say, basically, "Look, it's like I'm 16! Again! Because I remember doing this with Dad in his truck back then! Mein Gott!"
The drive back today was uneventful, dominated by two major mind-wanderings: contemplating the shrimp brochette at the Nacogdoches restaurant Clear Springs, which is far better than it has any right to be (Nac really does have some good restaurants, now that I think of it), and insistent sex daydreams that, while not unenjoyable, posed the maddening problem of a raging hard-on on the interstate, with little to do about it except listen to NPR and hope that would chase it off (it did). This moment of TMI brought to you by my subconscious and a certain lack of internet discretion.
Erin-the-roommate quote, upon her seeing me in a purple Tshirt (Pétanque Louisianaise) and a pair of red nylon gym shorts while I did laundry: "Red and purple, quite daring! Bold splash of color! If I were gay I'd be excited." Which is pretty much unparseable as to intent, really.
Watched Gattaca tonight, only 9 years after it came out. Good film, echoes a lot of my mistrust of natal genetic modification. Plus, immolation. Better, in my opinion, than Kinsey, which I borrowed from Rebecca et al. at the same time and watched Thursday night (?).
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 09:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 10:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 12:33 pm (UTC)We're excited to see you on Friday, dear!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 02:15 pm (UTC)When are you moving to Columbus?
no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 02:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 03:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 10:40 pm (UTC)It does cool down by that point. I remember going to TRF in late October one year and freezing my ass off (which probably means 40s/50s; Texans are kinda pansified about the cold, Panhandlers excepted). It could conceivably be in the 70s, although that's less common [hell, it could conceivably be in the 80s too, but that's rare]. East Texas is a very wet place; rain is not a given, but is definitely a likely possibility. Hope that helps a bit. If you're looking for a different region let me know and I might be able to give my impressions.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-01 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-01 02:50 pm (UTC)Can't wait to see you on Friday! ::hug:
no subject
Date: 2006-08-01 02:51 pm (UTC)