i'm in chicago today and tomorrow, on a quick business trip.
there's some sort of convention in town -- for chicago, that's almost an absurd statement, as there's always a show somewhere -- and as a result, it's impossible to find a good hotel room downtown. i was lucky to find a spot at the red roof inn; it's not at all as expensive as, say, the marriotts or hiltons of the world, which is good for my company, but not at all good for me.
my first thought upon entering the room: yeah, this is about right. it definitely plays down to its price. it's not roach-motel material, to be sure, but one could mistake the wallpaper for faux wood paneling, and the floor lamp in the corner looks suspiciously like one i had in my dorm room back in 1992.
i had an OK sleep, and woke up groggy, looking for coffee out on ontario. i shared the elevator with a bunch of people wearing those around-the-neck nametags, and that's when i learned that the convention in town is for promotions people -- and i get the feeling it's the "crappy-company-logo-giveaways" kind of promotions, not the "we're-out-pushing-a-new-product-or-event" kind of promotions.
why?
everyone in the elevator and the jammed lobby (red roof inn has one "cappuchino" maker machine there) (("there" as in "lobby," not "elevator" -- that'd be awkward)) ... wait. i lost my train of thought.
oh yes. everyone was dressed in bad-used-car-salesperson clothes, with lots of poofy and/or slicked-back hair, gold chains and general unpolished fashion sense. that said to me: these people would sell me 200 coffee mugs with my company's logo on it.
i guess the hotel fits the crowd, in a way ... and i'm not saying that's a bad thing at all. i mean, i am staying here as well, you understand. i wouldn't do it again for business, but a weekend in chicago where you're not going to be in the room much? it's perfectly affordable, and has a great location.
but let's take it somewhere: let's move the promotions crowd to the four seasons in downtown san francisco, where i had a business dinner a few months ago. i don't know if this crowd would feel comfortable there, just as the people enjoying the $20 tuna tartare would probably not feel "at home" in front of the crappuchino machine down in the lobby. people tend to gravitate to where they feel comfortable, and those places know "their" crowd and play to it accordingly.
all those words for that last sentence ... i need to edit this crap more often.
"And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." – Sylvia Plath
9.27.2006
9.25.2006
9.20.2006
'touch the panda' ... i haven't heard that one before, but i like it.
a chinese man was bitten by a panda -- and then bit the panda back.
maybe we can turn "touch the panda" into another masturbation euphamism.
yeah, i was up late last night and decided to touch the panda before i went to bed.
don't you know that if you touch the panda, you'll go blind?
and the whole thing reminds me of a joke from "the simpsons" ... from "yah-hoo!," the "hee-haw" knockoff show where lurleen sang.
redneck 1: i caught my wife sleepin' with another man.
redneck 2: bitter?
redneck 1: yeah ... i bit him too.
"He felt a sudden urge to touch the panda with his hand," and jumped into the enclosure, the newspaper said.
maybe we can turn "touch the panda" into another masturbation euphamism.
yeah, i was up late last night and decided to touch the panda before i went to bed.
don't you know that if you touch the panda, you'll go blind?
and the whole thing reminds me of a joke from "the simpsons" ... from "yah-hoo!," the "hee-haw" knockoff show where lurleen sang.
redneck 1: i caught my wife sleepin' with another man.
redneck 2: bitter?
redneck 1: yeah ... i bit him too.
9.19.2006
so many bad websites i've been forced to look at this week
so as i start trolling the internet for contact info ... to make the cold calls for my job ... i'm reminded of what chairman mao once said:
a journal of one thousand miles begins when you get off your ass and go call someone.
or something like that.
a journal of one thousand miles begins when you get off your ass and go call someone.
or something like that.
9.18.2006
lazy sunday
i blew off football yesterday and went out with diggler to take some pictures. he got into bluff creek and came home muddy and full of burrs ... but he had a good time, and i got nice shots like this ...
and now it's monday morning, 8 a.m., and I've been up since 5. not sure why, but i was up. and i watched "Woody Allen: A Life in Film," a made-for-Turner-Classic-Movies documentary with just Woody and clips from his movies. Sadly, it was made four years ago, and ends with "Hollywood Ending," which was one of his weaker pieces, and yet he calls it one of his unqualified successes. Maybe I should rent it this week and watch it again.
I gave up on Woody Allen movies with "Hollywood Ending" because they all kind of sucked. I think "Small Time Crooks" was the last one I enjoyed without (major) reservation. Since then they all seemed to be the same movie, with the same jokes, the same plotlines, etc.
It's cold outside. I want to go write a screenplay. :)
9.14.2006
9.10.2006
something seems off about this headline
it looks like it should read "gore says he hasn't ruled out 2nd dessert," doesn't it?
9.08.2006
nooooooooo kelly clarkson!
last night, as the EMTs were taking off my shirt and getting me ready for my first EKG, my doctor was very calmly and patiently -- this is what they call "beside manner" -- asking me questions about why i checked myself into the ER a few minutes earlier.
had dr. abelson not diverted my attention to what was going on in my chestal-hair region, i certainly would have re-enacted this scene (scrub forward to 2:21 to see what i'm talking about), complete with every swear word.
***
so yes, last night i checked myself into the emergency room. why? well, for the second time in a week, i started having bizarre chest pains -- imagine having to burp, but not being able to get it out -- at the lower tip of my sternum.
the first time, a week ago tonight, was pretty weird. i actually didn't tell amina about it, because i didn't want to worry her unnecessarily. we had friends over for dinner and after they left, i felt so horrible that i had to lie down on the couch, which is something i never do when there's a kitchen to be cleaned up. the pain actually was intense, and would last about 30-45 seconds or so, then disappear again.
i was a bit short of breath and clammy, though one could easily make the argument that thinking oh shit i'm having a heart attack would be enough to make one nervous and sweaty. and that's what i told myself -- all this was just me overreacting, and even though nothing is wrong with me, i just prefer being on the couch, immobile and unable to breathe properly.
it passed, but it was on my mind. a lot. as have a lot of other things -- if i was afraid to blog about target, and for the most part, i was, i'm certainly not willing to blog about a company of 10 employees. so a lot of work-related stuff has been bottled up inside, keeping me awake at night, replaying conversations in my head, etc.
so i'm not sleeping, i'm not exercising, etc., since the dinner party last friday.
***
fast forward to yesterday: i'm in a five-hour demo session at work, where we're showing off our software to potential buyers on the Left Coast, one hour for each of four different interest groups there (and one hour for lunch that ends up being consumed by other meetings). the final hour is spent with the IT folks, who ask questions that make the cockles of my heart warm -- streaming, hosting, platforms, databases, etc.
well, about 30 minutes in, said cockles went from "warm" to "fairly screaming with pain" ... the whole thing started again, except this time it was accompanied by some pains shooting in the outer parts of my necks, where i would imagine aortas to be, and weird tingling in my pinkie finger on my right hand.
after thinking about it for a few minutes, i decide that it's not a good idea to ignore this again, even though the steelers are opening their season in about three hours. i called amina and ... this is why i love my wife. she's in the medical field, and she knows a lot of good, talented people. so she gets me on one line, and a cardiac expert on the other, and is asking me a question, then passing that on to her expert friend, and vice versa, for about five minutes.
we all decide that i need to find the ER, and fast.
but the debate: do i drive myself, or call an ambulance? driving myself is good because i can pick which hospital to attend (we have a favorite) and maybe i can change my mind on the way and not worry about all this silliness. driving is bad because, well, i could kill myself and a few other people should this turn out to be the real thing.
we eventually decide that it'd be safe for me to drive as long as i was talking to her on the phone the entire time. logical -- she could just take over the wheel via her cell phone, were my heart to suddenly burst open or something. yeah, that's a safe plan.
***
so i made it to my hospital of choice, and my main concern was parking my car: i didn't want to pay for parking, of course, and i knew that most emergency rooms have free parking, but i couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get the damn gate to open. i asked an unkempt looking gentleman if he knew how to do it, and he advised me to push the button that said "push here to open gate" ... i felt stupid, but didn't have the time or inclination to explain that my aorta was turning into swiss cheese at the moment, so i just thanked him, hit the button and parked.
i checked myself in with the immortal line "hello ... i'm having chest pains, so i'm here to check myself in." it was all i could think of, and truth be told, i didn't really have time to think of any good lines on the way over. i did come up with a good one, though, as the attending nurse asked me if i had any medical conditions. "just being stunningly handsome," i said, and we both laughed.
eventually i got into a room, and the ER team descended, and what do you know? mr. unkempt parking gate advisor was my doctor. so turns out he heard the whole story after all. :)
***
i'm home now, and there's not a whole lot to say, except that every test they took showed absolutely no sign of any damage, or even concern with my heart, lungs or arteries -- no blockage, very little plaque, calcium levels at zero, etc.
i'm thankful to God that i'm OK, and now i'm left wondering -- what was this all about, anyway, and what do i need to change to stop it from happening again.
had dr. abelson not diverted my attention to what was going on in my chestal-hair region, i certainly would have re-enacted this scene (scrub forward to 2:21 to see what i'm talking about), complete with every swear word.
***
so yes, last night i checked myself into the emergency room. why? well, for the second time in a week, i started having bizarre chest pains -- imagine having to burp, but not being able to get it out -- at the lower tip of my sternum.
the first time, a week ago tonight, was pretty weird. i actually didn't tell amina about it, because i didn't want to worry her unnecessarily. we had friends over for dinner and after they left, i felt so horrible that i had to lie down on the couch, which is something i never do when there's a kitchen to be cleaned up. the pain actually was intense, and would last about 30-45 seconds or so, then disappear again.
i was a bit short of breath and clammy, though one could easily make the argument that thinking oh shit i'm having a heart attack would be enough to make one nervous and sweaty. and that's what i told myself -- all this was just me overreacting, and even though nothing is wrong with me, i just prefer being on the couch, immobile and unable to breathe properly.
it passed, but it was on my mind. a lot. as have a lot of other things -- if i was afraid to blog about target, and for the most part, i was, i'm certainly not willing to blog about a company of 10 employees. so a lot of work-related stuff has been bottled up inside, keeping me awake at night, replaying conversations in my head, etc.
so i'm not sleeping, i'm not exercising, etc., since the dinner party last friday.
***
fast forward to yesterday: i'm in a five-hour demo session at work, where we're showing off our software to potential buyers on the Left Coast, one hour for each of four different interest groups there (and one hour for lunch that ends up being consumed by other meetings). the final hour is spent with the IT folks, who ask questions that make the cockles of my heart warm -- streaming, hosting, platforms, databases, etc.
well, about 30 minutes in, said cockles went from "warm" to "fairly screaming with pain" ... the whole thing started again, except this time it was accompanied by some pains shooting in the outer parts of my necks, where i would imagine aortas to be, and weird tingling in my pinkie finger on my right hand.
after thinking about it for a few minutes, i decide that it's not a good idea to ignore this again, even though the steelers are opening their season in about three hours. i called amina and ... this is why i love my wife. she's in the medical field, and she knows a lot of good, talented people. so she gets me on one line, and a cardiac expert on the other, and is asking me a question, then passing that on to her expert friend, and vice versa, for about five minutes.
we all decide that i need to find the ER, and fast.
but the debate: do i drive myself, or call an ambulance? driving myself is good because i can pick which hospital to attend (we have a favorite) and maybe i can change my mind on the way and not worry about all this silliness. driving is bad because, well, i could kill myself and a few other people should this turn out to be the real thing.
we eventually decide that it'd be safe for me to drive as long as i was talking to her on the phone the entire time. logical -- she could just take over the wheel via her cell phone, were my heart to suddenly burst open or something. yeah, that's a safe plan.
***
so i made it to my hospital of choice, and my main concern was parking my car: i didn't want to pay for parking, of course, and i knew that most emergency rooms have free parking, but i couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get the damn gate to open. i asked an unkempt looking gentleman if he knew how to do it, and he advised me to push the button that said "push here to open gate" ... i felt stupid, but didn't have the time or inclination to explain that my aorta was turning into swiss cheese at the moment, so i just thanked him, hit the button and parked.
i checked myself in with the immortal line "hello ... i'm having chest pains, so i'm here to check myself in." it was all i could think of, and truth be told, i didn't really have time to think of any good lines on the way over. i did come up with a good one, though, as the attending nurse asked me if i had any medical conditions. "just being stunningly handsome," i said, and we both laughed.
eventually i got into a room, and the ER team descended, and what do you know? mr. unkempt parking gate advisor was my doctor. so turns out he heard the whole story after all. :)
***
i'm home now, and there's not a whole lot to say, except that every test they took showed absolutely no sign of any damage, or even concern with my heart, lungs or arteries -- no blockage, very little plaque, calcium levels at zero, etc.
i'm thankful to God that i'm OK, and now i'm left wondering -- what was this all about, anyway, and what do i need to change to stop it from happening again.
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