I swear, I didn't misspell 'dual'. That 'e' is LEGIT, yo.
Broke down--or more accurately, proclaimed, "SCREW THESE STUPID SHOULDER BUTTONS THAT DON'T WORK ANYMORE"--and bought a Nintendo 3DS. Much as I've enjoyed both DSlites I've owned, the shoulder L & R buttons are pretty much the first thing to go on the 'lite' model. The silver version I bought Black Friday before last didn't even make it a year before the L started on its path to becoming grievously useless. The R wasn't far behind, and lemme tell ya, for me, it is not a grand and glorious experience playing MLB2Kwhatever when I can neither make a basestealing attempt when I wish nor can I make the runners get back to base when I need.
Wingstun, naturally, enjoys getting hold of it to make use of the Pokédex 3D app (by which I mean, she'll peruse the other listings I've so far garnered before going back to coo over those effing mudbots which continue to cost me currency and sanity DAMN IT ALL COULDN'T YOU HAVE SIMPLY STAYED A BUMBLEBEE FAN I COULD LIVE WITH THAT PRIMUS KNOWS I HAVE DONE SO FOR OVER A DECADE bleeeahhgk...better, now. Me...I use everything else. Bought a few games so far off the eShop, screw around with the camera and get onto the internet wherever I can find a free wifi hotspot.
Fun. The camera and internet access have already come in handy--I can tweet from a ballgame using a stylus much more quickly than using iTap on a phone BECAUSE I AM JUST SO SLAGGIN' AWESOME SHUT UP BABY I KNOW IT and can even snap a few 3D photos of the action--both of which I did Thursday night at the Timber Rattlers ballgame. Game started off as a pitcher's duel for a few innings--thankfully, it didn't stay that way. Need to figure out how to log on at Miller Park, if I can, though I doubt the camera will get much use, considering that we're usually sitting in the Terrace Level. Club Level, last game, but that's not so big a difference, at least to my eyes. Man, the prices nowadays sure make me appreciate the games I was able to attend as a kid at County Stadium--I could walk down by the dugout and try for autographs, pregame...
Between the multiple BP C'Mon Back Club cards I and my mom filled over the summer, and a Time Warner Cable BOGOF offer bill slip, Wingstun and I have pairs of tickets to four games in September. That's more damn games than we've attended in whole seasons past. Naturally, she's looking way forward to it. Just hope she's granted the requested time off.
Two of the games are on consecutive days. Been giving serious thought to simply staying at a hotel after the first game and perhaps yomping around Milwaukee the day after before attending the second. Wingstun can probably use a mini-vacation...as it is, she's been bugging me about going to Slagacon in October. Apparently, two TF-themed cons aren't enough for her anymore...
Probably going back to Fox Cities Stadium tomorrow. Carlos Gomez is there for the second of a four-game rehabilitation stint, and there are postgame autographs by the team on Sundays, so if Go-Go is gonna be part of that, it's worth a shot.
Worth the $10-$15 for parking and the ticket, too.
+++PRIME OUT+++SHE GOT MORE AUTOGRAPHS IN ONE DAY THAN I GOT IN A DECADE+++
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Good Motivation to Murder the Grass
So, our lawn was getting a little shaggy and Prime wondered, after returning my phone call to him at work to commiserate about the loss the Brewers had just suffered at the hands of the Pittsburgh Pirates, if I could mow it during this decently nice day...you know, before the weather decides to turn to 'I DRENCH YOU NOW' again. Now, I really don't mind killing the patch of greenery in our yard, but it is a bit labor-intensive. So I was about to strike a deal with my sweetie-bot and tell him, sure I'd do it, if I could be promised one of these.
I know what you're going to ask--what the slag is that thing? Simply put, it's a plush Pokemon keychain. Not just any Pokémon, either. It's a Golurk keychain.
Instant want. Golurk is only one of my favorite Pokémon. The other being its base form, Golett. Those two are hands down, my favorites. I love 'em more than any Pokémon from previous genrations. The words "utter adoration" might actually fit in this case. Seriously, golem + robot = instant epic win.
So, as I tell Prime that I'll do it for the keychain, he tells me that there's a small box near the desk that I should look inside. Curiosity gets the better of me and I do.
What stares back at me? A little plush Golurk. Yep, Prime had gotten me the keychain, along with a Golurk figure. I have no idea when he did it, but he did it.
Pity my poor front lawn, as it had no idea what hit it. I have never mowed with such extreme prejudice before. Seems I owed Prime that much, at least. That and I'll do slag near anything for my favorite Pokémon.
...within reason of course. (Stop getting ideas, Prime. I forbid you from milking this!)
--Weasel, "And now--TACOS!!"
I know what you're going to ask--what the slag is that thing? Simply put, it's a plush Pokemon keychain. Not just any Pokémon, either. It's a Golurk keychain.
Instant want. Golurk is only one of my favorite Pokémon. The other being its base form, Golett. Those two are hands down, my favorites. I love 'em more than any Pokémon from previous genrations. The words "utter adoration" might actually fit in this case. Seriously, golem + robot = instant epic win.
So, as I tell Prime that I'll do it for the keychain, he tells me that there's a small box near the desk that I should look inside. Curiosity gets the better of me and I do.
What stares back at me? A little plush Golurk. Yep, Prime had gotten me the keychain, along with a Golurk figure. I have no idea when he did it, but he did it.
Pity my poor front lawn, as it had no idea what hit it. I have never mowed with such extreme prejudice before. Seems I owed Prime that much, at least. That and I'll do slag near anything for my favorite Pokémon.
...within reason of course. (Stop getting ideas, Prime. I forbid you from milking this!)
--Weasel, "And now--TACOS!!"
Friday, August 12, 2011
Friday Photoblog: "Closin' It Down" Edition
A pair of BotCon staffers, getting ready to shut things down.
(I always hate that moment.)
Monday, August 08, 2011
Quarter Century
On this day, 25 years ago, The Transformers: the Movie premiered in theaters nationwide.
Before you ask, no, I didn't get lucky enough to see it on its release date. I didn't even get lucky enough to see it on the release weekend. I actually saw it over a week later, after much begging and pleading. Being 11, I had to go to the theater with my mother, as she wouldn't let me go alone. We went in the early afternoon, making the trip in Dad's old blue and white Dodge truck, which is long since gone.
My first impression of the movie was one of surprise; there was a massive twenty year time skip between the series and the feature film. There were also Autobots onscreen that I had never seen before. Who exactly was Kup? Where did Blurr come from? Why hadn't Optimus Prime ever mentioned them before? Although I was a bit confused, I just rolled with it and followed the action.
And there was a lot of action. A lot of death, as well.
Contrary to popular belief, I did not cry during Optimus Prime's death. My mother spoiled that scene for me about a week before the movie's release and said outright that she didn't want to see me crying over it. I was a stubborn kid and I flatly refused to show any true emotion during that scene. All I did was bite my knuckle and soldier onward. It wasn't meant to be any sort of disrespect to Optimus--I did it to spite my mother. We never really have gotten along; there's quite a bit of baggage with that relationship.
That didn't mean that I wasn't heartbroken. I had admired Optimus Prime since I was nine. Seeing him pass on was like watching a member of my own family die and I wasn't allowed to mourn for him. In the next twenty-five years, I would make up for this, as I cannot watch this scene without tearing up. Even the music brings me to tears.
But it wasn't only Optimus Prime who passed on: Ironhide, Ratchet, Prowl, Wheeljack and Windcharger, just to name a few, were also cut down. There were so many Autobots dying that I lived in fear of what may happen to my sweet Bumblebee. He had been taken out of the action early and I feared the worst for him. Thankfully, he was one of the lucky few who were spared.
Later, I did admit that seeing Bumblebee in peril made my heart skip a few beats.
I was stunned to see Hot Rod become the new Autobot leader and, to this day, still shudder at the name of Unicron. For an 11-year-old, the movie was truly epic. I really didn't want it to end. However, nothing good can last forever.
Unfortunately, as soon as the credits began rolling, my mother insisted we leave. It would be years before I could finally see them in their entirety. It's another thing that I and my mother did not agree upon--I didn't believe I should leave the theater until the entire film is done. Mother didn't see it that way. And now, I am forced to wonder if I could have spotted the name Dan Gilvezan and committed it to memory, saving me years of raw vocal chasing and frustration. But I'll never know.
I was only able to see it in the theater once. I wanted desperately to go again. I truly loved what I had seen and wanted to experience it in all its glory for a second time but I knew better than to ask. Seeing a movie in a theater for a second time was out of the question. I wouldn't be able to do so until I was an adult and at BotCon. A gift to myself, I guess you could call it.
A lot has changed in the quarter century since the release of The Transformers: the Movie. The home I lived in has been sold and the dirt road I lived on has been paved. The cats that ran about the yard are only memories. The old mutt that we kept is gone. And quite a few of the things I thought I knew about my family and childhood have changed radically. But some things have not. After twenty-five years (and longer, really), I'm still a fan. I can't help but think that I'm a bigger fan now than I was when I was younger; those Robots in Disguise have helped me get through a lot in my life.
I'm a different person now than I was 25 years ago but Transformers will always be a part of my life. The Autobots and Decepticons are one of the few things that I can count on, that I can depend on, that I will always love.
'Til all are one!
Before you ask, no, I didn't get lucky enough to see it on its release date. I didn't even get lucky enough to see it on the release weekend. I actually saw it over a week later, after much begging and pleading. Being 11, I had to go to the theater with my mother, as she wouldn't let me go alone. We went in the early afternoon, making the trip in Dad's old blue and white Dodge truck, which is long since gone.
My first impression of the movie was one of surprise; there was a massive twenty year time skip between the series and the feature film. There were also Autobots onscreen that I had never seen before. Who exactly was Kup? Where did Blurr come from? Why hadn't Optimus Prime ever mentioned them before? Although I was a bit confused, I just rolled with it and followed the action.
And there was a lot of action. A lot of death, as well.
Contrary to popular belief, I did not cry during Optimus Prime's death. My mother spoiled that scene for me about a week before the movie's release and said outright that she didn't want to see me crying over it. I was a stubborn kid and I flatly refused to show any true emotion during that scene. All I did was bite my knuckle and soldier onward. It wasn't meant to be any sort of disrespect to Optimus--I did it to spite my mother. We never really have gotten along; there's quite a bit of baggage with that relationship.
That didn't mean that I wasn't heartbroken. I had admired Optimus Prime since I was nine. Seeing him pass on was like watching a member of my own family die and I wasn't allowed to mourn for him. In the next twenty-five years, I would make up for this, as I cannot watch this scene without tearing up. Even the music brings me to tears.
But it wasn't only Optimus Prime who passed on: Ironhide, Ratchet, Prowl, Wheeljack and Windcharger, just to name a few, were also cut down. There were so many Autobots dying that I lived in fear of what may happen to my sweet Bumblebee. He had been taken out of the action early and I feared the worst for him. Thankfully, he was one of the lucky few who were spared.
Later, I did admit that seeing Bumblebee in peril made my heart skip a few beats.
I was stunned to see Hot Rod become the new Autobot leader and, to this day, still shudder at the name of Unicron. For an 11-year-old, the movie was truly epic. I really didn't want it to end. However, nothing good can last forever.
Unfortunately, as soon as the credits began rolling, my mother insisted we leave. It would be years before I could finally see them in their entirety. It's another thing that I and my mother did not agree upon--I didn't believe I should leave the theater until the entire film is done. Mother didn't see it that way. And now, I am forced to wonder if I could have spotted the name Dan Gilvezan and committed it to memory, saving me years of raw vocal chasing and frustration. But I'll never know.
I was only able to see it in the theater once. I wanted desperately to go again. I truly loved what I had seen and wanted to experience it in all its glory for a second time but I knew better than to ask. Seeing a movie in a theater for a second time was out of the question. I wouldn't be able to do so until I was an adult and at BotCon. A gift to myself, I guess you could call it.
A lot has changed in the quarter century since the release of The Transformers: the Movie. The home I lived in has been sold and the dirt road I lived on has been paved. The cats that ran about the yard are only memories. The old mutt that we kept is gone. And quite a few of the things I thought I knew about my family and childhood have changed radically. But some things have not. After twenty-five years (and longer, really), I'm still a fan. I can't help but think that I'm a bigger fan now than I was when I was younger; those Robots in Disguise have helped me get through a lot in my life.
I'm a different person now than I was 25 years ago but Transformers will always be a part of my life. The Autobots and Decepticons are one of the few things that I can count on, that I can depend on, that I will always love.
'Til all are one!
Sunday, August 07, 2011
COMMUNICATIONS INTERRUPT: FREEBIES COST REM
Not a damn thing to do with the band. Just sayin'.
Ol’ Windsweeper has been busy killing letters and using Microsoft Word to do it, and I’m frankly sick of opening Firefox to see a Photoblog, so…what the hell.
Went to see another Milwaukee Brewers game on 26 July. Not even a week earlier, Caterpillar Global Mining bought 5000 Terrace Reserved tickets apiece to that game and the following, both against the Chicago Cubs, as a goodwill gesture, thank you, blah blah blah of some stripe…guess they entered into some sort of corporate partnership with the Brewers. What kind of partnership a baseball franchise and a mining company needs, I’ve no clue, but it happened. They were made available on the Friday before, at 0900…which naturally means I’m already at work. Figured it was worth a shot nevertheless. A single two-dollar charge for printing ‘em yourself, when normally each ticket, being for marquee games, would be $20 before the convenience and delivery fees? Yes, please.
Was kind of pain to get through the order—the site was being hammered like MattyCollector.com on a sale day. MLB does better with the refreshing waiting room concept, though. Took so long to make it through, though, that I couldn’t get seats together for either game. However, Windsweeper has, in the past, made clear that sitting together isn’t a high priority for her when attending Brewers games—a mild insult of which she was rather unaware until I spoke up—so I jumped on what I could get for us, and picked up another pair for the next day’s game for a coworker who is a diehard Cubs fan (somehow, we get along fine), and put the order on through.
Game day comes, Windsweeper’s off and I’ve left work an hour early to get down to Milwaukee at a reasonable time…which almost never works, anyway. Traffic gets pretty slow down there around an hour before first pitch, and that day was little different...probably worse, what with the Cubs as opponents. Plenty of Chicagoans make the drive north to fill seats with that narfy bright blue. As it was, it took half an age to get parked in one of the General Parking lots (Uecker, I think). No way I was getting into Preferred, let along paying for it on gameday. Not for a Cubs game.
By the time we’d walked to the stadium and gotten past the gate, the first inning was already over—a fact made more irritating because all the scoring in the game happened in that inning. Made our way up to my section and saw that all but two in my row were empty, so Windsweeper stayed. Could always have moved if the actual seatholders showed up. They never did, so we were able to enjoy the game together. Well, she enjoyed—me, I’ve never been all that big a fan of pitching duels unless there turns out to be a good shot at a no-hitter (then the enjoyment becomes retroactive). Windsweeper left after the fourth inning to get her usual cheese-fries-in-a-helmet—cupboard’s getting full of those things (exaggeration), but I still have the ice cream helmets and drink cups that I picked up after Brewers games in the late 80s/early 90s, so I’m one to talk, I guess.
Game ended with a win and we headed back to the car. The drive back home was uneventful and as always, somehow longer than the drive away.
Windsweeper stayed awake until 0200, keyed up from a win yet again.
+++PRIME OUT+++I MISS REGULAR EIGHT-HOUR SLEEP+++
Ol’ Windsweeper has been busy killing letters and using Microsoft Word to do it, and I’m frankly sick of opening Firefox to see a Photoblog, so…what the hell.
Went to see another Milwaukee Brewers game on 26 July. Not even a week earlier, Caterpillar Global Mining bought 5000 Terrace Reserved tickets apiece to that game and the following, both against the Chicago Cubs, as a goodwill gesture, thank you, blah blah blah of some stripe…guess they entered into some sort of corporate partnership with the Brewers. What kind of partnership a baseball franchise and a mining company needs, I’ve no clue, but it happened. They were made available on the Friday before, at 0900…which naturally means I’m already at work. Figured it was worth a shot nevertheless. A single two-dollar charge for printing ‘em yourself, when normally each ticket, being for marquee games, would be $20 before the convenience and delivery fees? Yes, please.
Was kind of pain to get through the order—the site was being hammered like MattyCollector.com on a sale day. MLB does better with the refreshing waiting room concept, though. Took so long to make it through, though, that I couldn’t get seats together for either game. However, Windsweeper has, in the past, made clear that sitting together isn’t a high priority for her when attending Brewers games—a mild insult of which she was rather unaware until I spoke up—so I jumped on what I could get for us, and picked up another pair for the next day’s game for a coworker who is a diehard Cubs fan (somehow, we get along fine), and put the order on through.
Game day comes, Windsweeper’s off and I’ve left work an hour early to get down to Milwaukee at a reasonable time…which almost never works, anyway. Traffic gets pretty slow down there around an hour before first pitch, and that day was little different...probably worse, what with the Cubs as opponents. Plenty of Chicagoans make the drive north to fill seats with that narfy bright blue. As it was, it took half an age to get parked in one of the General Parking lots (Uecker, I think). No way I was getting into Preferred, let along paying for it on gameday. Not for a Cubs game.
By the time we’d walked to the stadium and gotten past the gate, the first inning was already over—a fact made more irritating because all the scoring in the game happened in that inning. Made our way up to my section and saw that all but two in my row were empty, so Windsweeper stayed. Could always have moved if the actual seatholders showed up. They never did, so we were able to enjoy the game together. Well, she enjoyed—me, I’ve never been all that big a fan of pitching duels unless there turns out to be a good shot at a no-hitter (then the enjoyment becomes retroactive). Windsweeper left after the fourth inning to get her usual cheese-fries-in-a-helmet—cupboard’s getting full of those things (exaggeration), but I still have the ice cream helmets and drink cups that I picked up after Brewers games in the late 80s/early 90s, so I’m one to talk, I guess.
Game ended with a win and we headed back to the car. The drive back home was uneventful and as always, somehow longer than the drive away.
Windsweeper stayed awake until 0200, keyed up from a win yet again.
+++PRIME OUT+++I MISS REGULAR EIGHT-HOUR SLEEP+++
Friday, July 29, 2011
Friday Photoblog: "Friendly and Helpful" Edition
Pete and Shawn, answering questions at the info booth.(One of these years, I'm gonna have to volunteer...)
Friday, July 22, 2011
Friday Photoblog: "So Very Theatrical" Edition
The entrance to the Paramount theatre where we saw a bit of footage from Revenge of the Fallen.(Devastator still scares the slag out of me to this day...)
Friday, July 15, 2011
Friday Photoblog: "Party Down" Edition
A shot of the Paramount Party, from BotCon 2009.(First time I've ever been on a movie lot. Way too awesome for words.)
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Going Dork
Oh yes, I have seen Dark of the Moon. It is awesome and you should see it. Now.
...the slag are you waiting for? There are giant robots beating the slag outta each other in movie theatres across the US. You need to go and watch them.
--Weasel, begging Prime to see it again... and again... and again...
...the slag are you waiting for? There are giant robots beating the slag outta each other in movie theatres across the US. You need to go and watch them.
--Weasel, begging Prime to see it again... and again... and again...
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Friday Sunday Photoblog: "Yeah, It's Late Again" Edition
A shot of Miller Park, the greatest ball park ever.(A beer, a helmet of cheese fries and a warm summer night... Heaven.)
Sunday, July 03, 2011
The Rescue
Wednesday, June 29, 2011. 10:15PM
The Pokemon stared out at me, its yellow-green eyes empty. How long had it been stuck on the GTS was a mystery, but it had probably been there a while or worse, it had been passed about as a bartering tool. It was a shiny Golett; demand for something that rare never really dies down. Offering up a shiny Pokemon is a guarantee that you will receive whatever you want. My heart in my throat, I checked what the Trainer was asking for in return. A moment later, I felt my heart sink: the tariff was a level 100 Rayquaza.
I pursed my lips. That was doable, but not on my copy of Black. My Rayquaza was only at level 70. It would take days to get it up to 100 and by then the Golett would be gone. Of course, I could level one up on Emerald and send it over, but it hadn't been 24 hours since I had transferred Pokemon from Emerald to Pearl, making a Pal Park transfer impossible. I sighed, shook my head and resigned everything to fate: I already had two shinies. This one would have to remain just outside of my grasp.
Only I couldn't simply leave it be. I pride myself as a Golett rescuer; I take in the Goletts that no one else wants. I've leveled up a Snivy to 50 just to grab a Golett that had languished on the GTS for three days, chain traded for Legendaries to buy a few little ones their freedom and parted with some Mystery Mews to grab some newly hatched Goletts. If it's doable, I will do it, just to get that Golett.
I can't help myself. I think that they are adorable.
With a sigh, I began looking for level 100 Rayquazas. What most asked for in return were hack jobs: they wanted level 9 and under Legendaries, making those trades impossible. I thought I was sunk until I came across an Ace Trainer in Japan who wanted something reasonable--a Zekrom.
That was definitely doable, as I had an extra. So I began the trade. Imagine my irritation when the screens on my DS went blue and I received this message:
Communication error.
Please turn off the power.
Swearing under my breath, I turned off the power to my DS, then switched it back on. If the Fates were kind and Primus was with me, the Rayquaza would still be there. I just had to find it. Two minutes later, I was back on the GTS, the Zekrom in my party, searching for the elusive Rayquaza.
I found it in about 10 seconds. Within a few moments, the Rayquaza was mine.
My heart was pounding as I began to search for the shiny Golett. For all I knew, the trade could have been for naught: someone else could have beaten me to it. But thankfully, it was still there, waiting. Without a second's hesitation, I hit "Trade".
Another Golett made its way into my possession. When it arrived in my party, I smiled and said softly, "Welcome home, little guy."
To a competitive battler, this Golett would be skippable: its Nature is Sassy, which won't raise Attack and its Ability is Klutz, meaning it can't use any held items. The only thing it had going for it was the fact that it was shiny. To most players, this little one was a bargaining chip or a novelty, nothing more.
But not to me.
It doesn't matter to me that its Nature isn't great or its Ability isn't what I'd like. Hell, it doesn't even matter to me that its shiny! It's a Golett. That's all that really matters in the end. And now, it has a home.
That Golett will never see the inside of the GTS again, not unless he's in my party while I'm on another "rescue mission". No matter what, he'll stay with me. All of my rescued Goletts will. They've been given sanctuary because that's just what a rescuer does. It's what I do and I do it well.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to hit the GTS. Pokemon to trade, Goletts to rescue... a Rescuer's work is never done.
The Pokemon stared out at me, its yellow-green eyes empty. How long had it been stuck on the GTS was a mystery, but it had probably been there a while or worse, it had been passed about as a bartering tool. It was a shiny Golett; demand for something that rare never really dies down. Offering up a shiny Pokemon is a guarantee that you will receive whatever you want. My heart in my throat, I checked what the Trainer was asking for in return. A moment later, I felt my heart sink: the tariff was a level 100 Rayquaza.
I pursed my lips. That was doable, but not on my copy of Black. My Rayquaza was only at level 70. It would take days to get it up to 100 and by then the Golett would be gone. Of course, I could level one up on Emerald and send it over, but it hadn't been 24 hours since I had transferred Pokemon from Emerald to Pearl, making a Pal Park transfer impossible. I sighed, shook my head and resigned everything to fate: I already had two shinies. This one would have to remain just outside of my grasp.
Only I couldn't simply leave it be. I pride myself as a Golett rescuer; I take in the Goletts that no one else wants. I've leveled up a Snivy to 50 just to grab a Golett that had languished on the GTS for three days, chain traded for Legendaries to buy a few little ones their freedom and parted with some Mystery Mews to grab some newly hatched Goletts. If it's doable, I will do it, just to get that Golett.
I can't help myself. I think that they are adorable.
With a sigh, I began looking for level 100 Rayquazas. What most asked for in return were hack jobs: they wanted level 9 and under Legendaries, making those trades impossible. I thought I was sunk until I came across an Ace Trainer in Japan who wanted something reasonable--a Zekrom.
That was definitely doable, as I had an extra. So I began the trade. Imagine my irritation when the screens on my DS went blue and I received this message:
Communication error.
Please turn off the power.
Swearing under my breath, I turned off the power to my DS, then switched it back on. If the Fates were kind and Primus was with me, the Rayquaza would still be there. I just had to find it. Two minutes later, I was back on the GTS, the Zekrom in my party, searching for the elusive Rayquaza.
I found it in about 10 seconds. Within a few moments, the Rayquaza was mine.
My heart was pounding as I began to search for the shiny Golett. For all I knew, the trade could have been for naught: someone else could have beaten me to it. But thankfully, it was still there, waiting. Without a second's hesitation, I hit "Trade".
Another Golett made its way into my possession. When it arrived in my party, I smiled and said softly, "Welcome home, little guy."
To a competitive battler, this Golett would be skippable: its Nature is Sassy, which won't raise Attack and its Ability is Klutz, meaning it can't use any held items. The only thing it had going for it was the fact that it was shiny. To most players, this little one was a bargaining chip or a novelty, nothing more.
But not to me.
It doesn't matter to me that its Nature isn't great or its Ability isn't what I'd like. Hell, it doesn't even matter to me that its shiny! It's a Golett. That's all that really matters in the end. And now, it has a home.
That Golett will never see the inside of the GTS again, not unless he's in my party while I'm on another "rescue mission". No matter what, he'll stay with me. All of my rescued Goletts will. They've been given sanctuary because that's just what a rescuer does. It's what I do and I do it well.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to hit the GTS. Pokemon to trade, Goletts to rescue... a Rescuer's work is never done.
Friday, July 01, 2011
Friday Photoblog: "Dropping a Log" Edition
The Lincoln Log display at Hasbro. From BotCon 2007.(It's been years since I've seen any of these...)
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Earth Goes Dork
By the time you read this, I'll be in a movie theatre, wearing my Bumblebee RealD mask, soaking in the awesome that is Transformers: Dark of the Moon.
I will let you know how face-meltingly awesome the movie is when I have the chance.
--Weasel, gonna rock it dork style!
I will let you know how face-meltingly awesome the movie is when I have the chance.
--Weasel, gonna rock it dork style!
End of an Era
So I've been playing around on one of my online games lately and managed to complete one of the monthly explorations. In this little scenario, you had the chance to go on a mission and nab the egg of a member of one of the Legendary trios. This time around, the two different explorations had you choose between the Beasts of Johto or the Golems of Hoenn.
I picked the Golems of Hoenn, since they weren't getting a lot of love. I don't understand why; they're pretty frelling awesome and they have the most epic battle music ever. My final egg choice was Registeel. Registeel, hands down, is my favorite of the Golems. Why? Just look at it. The thing's basically a friggin' robot. It even sounds like one to boot; when you catch it, its cry sounds like a slightly shortened transformation noise. Not kidding.
Autobots, roll out. Or something.
Once I had completed all the necessary steps to end the exploration and get my egg, I couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic. I had my own Regi trio on my old copy of Ruby, but hadn't sent them over to Emerald and had never migrated them to my copy of Pearl or Platinum. I kinda missed them.
So when Prime came home, I dashed upstairs to grab my old copy of Pokemon Ruby and trade my Regi trio over to Emerald. But when I turned on my GBA SP and had gone past the title screen for my Ruby, a message popped up on the screen:
The internal battery has run dry. The game can be played. However, clock-based events will no longer occur.
My heart broke a little. No more growing berries on my Ruby cart and no more free TMs, either.
Now, the internal battery can be replaced if you really feel the need to pester the old men in Pacifidlog Town regarding a free TM or Mirage Island. But since I don't feel the need to do either one, there really is no point in opening up my game cart to screw around with the battery.
It is a little depressing, though. Although the game itself runs on flash memory, just how long will that last before I lose any data? How long will my safe file, along with all of my Pokemon, last before I get an error message or simply get the New Game option?
It was a sobering thought. So sobering, in fact that I started moving a few of my Pokemon from Ruby to Emerald. I have yet to send over my old Rayquaza, but a few others are "safe". Among them are a pair of Registeels--one from Ruby and the other from Emerald.
They're now on my copy of Pearl and will soon be transferred to Black. But not before they get a Sinnoh League ribbon, of course. They deserve that honor.
There have been rumors and speculation for the last two years that Game Freak would do a pair of Ruby and Sapphire remakes. The newer DS systems don't have the backwards compatibility that the older ones do so it's impossible for some players to trade over Gen III Pokemon. I'm lucky--I still have two functional DS fats and a brand new, never opened DS Lite. I can trade with Ruby Sapphire and Emerald. But many others can't.
A remake looks pretty good right now. It's coming up on ten years(!) since the Hoenn saga was first released and plenty of those games are suffering from dead internal batteries, not to mention the lack of backwards compatibility. It's about time to bring Hoenn over to the DS. I'll be ready and waiting until then.
I picked the Golems of Hoenn, since they weren't getting a lot of love. I don't understand why; they're pretty frelling awesome and they have the most epic battle music ever. My final egg choice was Registeel. Registeel, hands down, is my favorite of the Golems. Why? Just look at it. The thing's basically a friggin' robot. It even sounds like one to boot; when you catch it, its cry sounds like a slightly shortened transformation noise. Not kidding.
Autobots, roll out. Or something.
Once I had completed all the necessary steps to end the exploration and get my egg, I couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic. I had my own Regi trio on my old copy of Ruby, but hadn't sent them over to Emerald and had never migrated them to my copy of Pearl or Platinum. I kinda missed them.
So when Prime came home, I dashed upstairs to grab my old copy of Pokemon Ruby and trade my Regi trio over to Emerald. But when I turned on my GBA SP and had gone past the title screen for my Ruby, a message popped up on the screen:
The internal battery has run dry. The game can be played. However, clock-based events will no longer occur.
My heart broke a little. No more growing berries on my Ruby cart and no more free TMs, either.
Now, the internal battery can be replaced if you really feel the need to pester the old men in Pacifidlog Town regarding a free TM or Mirage Island. But since I don't feel the need to do either one, there really is no point in opening up my game cart to screw around with the battery.
It is a little depressing, though. Although the game itself runs on flash memory, just how long will that last before I lose any data? How long will my safe file, along with all of my Pokemon, last before I get an error message or simply get the New Game option?
It was a sobering thought. So sobering, in fact that I started moving a few of my Pokemon from Ruby to Emerald. I have yet to send over my old Rayquaza, but a few others are "safe". Among them are a pair of Registeels--one from Ruby and the other from Emerald.
They're now on my copy of Pearl and will soon be transferred to Black. But not before they get a Sinnoh League ribbon, of course. They deserve that honor.
There have been rumors and speculation for the last two years that Game Freak would do a pair of Ruby and Sapphire remakes. The newer DS systems don't have the backwards compatibility that the older ones do so it's impossible for some players to trade over Gen III Pokemon. I'm lucky--I still have two functional DS fats and a brand new, never opened DS Lite. I can trade with Ruby Sapphire and Emerald. But many others can't.
A remake looks pretty good right now. It's coming up on ten years(!) since the Hoenn saga was first released and plenty of those games are suffering from dead internal batteries, not to mention the lack of backwards compatibility. It's about time to bring Hoenn over to the DS. I'll be ready and waiting until then.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Friday Photoblog: "Hang 'Em High" Edition
A wall display at Dairycon 2011.(Hang yer hat and sit a spell, pardner...)
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Slow Burn
(Click title for an appropriately loud and angry bit of music!)
So my good mood from my trip to BotCon lasted about a week. Then the bullshit started. Only this time....
I'm not allowed on self-checks. I have no idea as to why, but our stupid ass ZM (I'll call her Bitchimus Maximus) has said this and her retarded-assed words are apparently fucking law. (I have an idea as to why and it's a BS reason and it deals with the dipshit store credit cards we're supposed to pimp, but I digress....)
So yeah, the self-checks will be left in the hands of cashiers who don't give a fucking shit and I'll be forced to watch them fall the fuck apart. The self-checks are one of the few things in that goddamn building that I actually give a damn about.
....pissed don't even start to cover this horseshit.
But this will bite the dumb little bitch squarely on her ass. I know for a damned fact that I will be stuck on a register next to the self-checks and when some customer needs help and asks me, I'll tell them no. If Bitchimus Maximus wants me to help anyone on the damned self-checks, she can stop playing dumbass head games, act like a respectable human being for once in her pathetic life and lift the restriction. Until then, it's not my goddamn problem. Fuck her and the ass she rode in on, as far as I'm concerned. I'm. DONE.
I've told Prime he's going to start editing my magnum opus in August. Doesn't matter whether or not I'm ready, I'm done screwing the hell around. I want out and I want it now. Everyone says I should be happy to have a job, but I sure as hell am not happy dealing with the fucking abuse that management is so happy to heap upon us. We're expendable and they know it. The abuse ain't worth the paycheck.
Primus give me strength for I truly need it.
Everything you say to me
(Takes me one step closer to the edge)
(And I'm about to break)
I need a little room to breathe
(Cause I'm one step closer to the edge)
(I'm about to break)
So my good mood from my trip to BotCon lasted about a week. Then the bullshit started. Only this time....
I'm not allowed on self-checks. I have no idea as to why, but our stupid ass ZM (I'll call her Bitchimus Maximus) has said this and her retarded-assed words are apparently fucking law. (I have an idea as to why and it's a BS reason and it deals with the dipshit store credit cards we're supposed to pimp, but I digress....)
So yeah, the self-checks will be left in the hands of cashiers who don't give a fucking shit and I'll be forced to watch them fall the fuck apart. The self-checks are one of the few things in that goddamn building that I actually give a damn about.
....pissed don't even start to cover this horseshit.
But this will bite the dumb little bitch squarely on her ass. I know for a damned fact that I will be stuck on a register next to the self-checks and when some customer needs help and asks me, I'll tell them no. If Bitchimus Maximus wants me to help anyone on the damned self-checks, she can stop playing dumbass head games, act like a respectable human being for once in her pathetic life and lift the restriction. Until then, it's not my goddamn problem. Fuck her and the ass she rode in on, as far as I'm concerned. I'm. DONE.
I've told Prime he's going to start editing my magnum opus in August. Doesn't matter whether or not I'm ready, I'm done screwing the hell around. I want out and I want it now. Everyone says I should be happy to have a job, but I sure as hell am not happy dealing with the fucking abuse that management is so happy to heap upon us. We're expendable and they know it. The abuse ain't worth the paycheck.
Primus give me strength for I truly need it.
Everything you say to me
(Takes me one step closer to the edge)
(And I'm about to break)
I need a little room to breathe
(Cause I'm one step closer to the edge)
(I'm about to break)
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sick of It All
I'm... tired. Tired of the bullshit, the backstabbing and all the crap that comes with my damn job. I'll fill you in later. Right now, I'm too fucking pissed.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Friday Photoblog: "Chicks Dig Giant Robots" Edition
A large Lego Mech at the Mall of America(Wonder how many bricks that thing took?)
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
...SLAG!...
Guess what I picked up on the plane? Give up? A SLAGGIN' HEAD COLD!
:slams head into a wall: Ah well. At least I got it after the 'Con and not during.
--Weasel, "Lucky me. But I still can't breathe..."
:slams head into a wall: Ah well. At least I got it after the 'Con and not during.
--Weasel, "Lucky me. But I still can't breathe..."
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Leaving on a Jetfire Plane
As I begin this post, I’m still in LAX, watching night fall. It is now exactly 8:10PM and I’ve been here at the airport for nearly six hours. Our flight won’t leave until 11:15, so I’m typing this out to keep the boredom at bay and to keep myself awake. I’m a little surprised, though. Usually, I’m so exhausted after the convention that I cannot keep my eyes open. But I’m fine right now. As to how I’ll be when we finally land in Milwaukee may be a different story entirely.
If the alarm went off this morning in our hotel room I never heard it; I was simply too tired to respond. But at around quarter to nine, I heard Prime stirring about and he told me to get up. It took a lot of strength to sit up in bed, push away the warm, cozy blankets, tuck Slumblebee into a nice safe bag pocket and stumble to the bathroom but I somehow managed to do so.
It didn’t take me long to get myself dressed and ready but by the time I was done, Prime was gone. He had taken a load of our BotCon loot to the local post office and was shipping it. In his absence I finished packing our luggage.
Since I had done a lot of packing the night before, it didn’t take me terribly long. All I really had to do was put my PJs away, get the rest of Prime’s clothes stowed in his suitcase, pack the toiletries and electronics, and clear out the mini-fridge. I was done in the matter of a half an hour or so and had just enough time to make one quick blog post before we would take down Alexa-1. After I had typed out my quickie, the phone rang. It was Prime.
He was running a bit behind and needed me to change the pick-up time for our SuperShuttle van. I told him I would, so I hit my email, loaded up the message, got our confirmation number and made the call.
I’ve often said I don’t have the world’s best luck with this sort of thing. Every single time I try to do something like this, it blows the slag up in my face. Today was no exception. The agent I got was slightly incompetent; she had no idea what the slag she was doing and said we were locked into our original pick-up time. Since I made the call on my cell and it was damn near out of minutes, I had to relent. Thankfully, Prime had made his first return from the Post Office and so said that he’d take care of it.
What took me nearly twenty minutes he had done in eight--six of which were spent on hold. He got someone who was competent, apparently.
Now that we had a bit more leeway, Prime took the second and last load of loot down to the post office and I checked us out of the hotel. After turning in our keycards, I hung around the hotel lobby and read the copies of USA Today and Time magazine that were there. When Prime finally returned, it was about ten ‘til one and I was slightly freaked out. I was a bit nervous that he may not have been able to make it on time, but Prime is in fact unbearably awesome, so I should have known better. He came bearing gifts: a footlong turkey and pepper jack sub from Subway and a pair of orange Fantas. We split the sub (his half had cilantro, and he is now slightly miffed that our local franchises don’t have it available; he’d get it ALL THE TIME if they did) and started drinking our sodas; at three minutes ‘til the hour our shuttle arrived.
Prime was greeted by the driver, who then took our bags and loaded us up. In the matter of a few minutes, we were on our way.
We picked up a few more passengers on our trip here, not including the three that were already in the shuttle. It was a full van by the time we were on the freeway. I’m surprised we even had any room to breathe. Other than that, the trip to the airport was uneventful, save for Prime nearly nodding off at a couple of points. (I do not blame him in the slightest; there were times that I felt like dozing off, too.) Once we got to the airport and got dropped off, we headed in to get our boarding passes printed out. Didn’t have to worry about checking in, as we did it electronically last night. We even got our seat assignments.
It took a bit to finally get to an Air Tran kiosk to print out the passes; some were being used, someone was trying to use one but failing and someone else was checking his bag and blocking another. The irritating thing is Prime and I were in line for that last kiosk, but some jackass cut around us and started using the thing as his fellow traveler was checking the last of his luggage. Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. We totally weren’t in slagging line for that kiosk. Jackwagon. After he was done, we got ours printed and headed to security.
LAX has really improved their security over the last couple of years. The last time Prime and I were here, we needed a bin for damn near every item in our possession: one for Alexa, one for Prime’s wallet, one for my wallet, etc. this time, we needed only two. That’s a vast improvement. We were done in a few minutes. It probably would have been slightly quicker if I hadn’t opted out of the body scanner, but I don’t want to risk getting some weird ass cancer later on in life.
After we went through security and got our stuff, we headed to a nearby Starbucks and got a pair of fraps and sandwiches. I got Mocha and a turkey and cheddar while Prime got Mocha Coconut and a chicken ciabatta sandwich.
Now, I know what you may be thinking: Didn’t you just eat, like, a couple of hours ago? Technically, yes. But we’ve both been running on empty for damn near the whole trip. Yesterday, all I had was a cheese Danish, a dish of chocolate gelato and some popcorn. That was it. This is the most food Prime and I have consumed within the span of five days. And don’t get me started on the lack of sleep either. But again, I digress.
I think DA may have created a couple of monsters. Prime was loving his frap while I was in heaven sipping mine. Mocha = Awesome. I don’t really do the coffee thing but I make the exception for Starbucks. A Starbucks frap always puts a huge smile on my face.
We ate, Prime read, and then Prime tried booting up Alexa-1 and surfing the net. As always, the free Wi-Fi at the airport refused to let us do anything web based, so I grabbed Lexi and started up a blog post. (It’s the monstrously long previous entry that you may have read.) Prime finished his book and while I was tapping away, he went to a nearby bookstore and bought two more. As you can imagine, Prime is a voracious reader. He’s already finished one and he’s started on the other. Man does love a good book.
At around 8:30 Prime made another food run; this time it was Burger King. He got a chicken Tendercrisp sandwich while I scarfed a bacon double cheeseburger. I don’t often eat a lot of meat but my body seems to be craving protein right now. Who the slag am I to argue? By that time it was getting dark. It’s been noisy here in the airport; each and every announcer for the various flights have been doing their best to scream each other down. The passengers aren’t nearly as loud as some of these people.
It’s 9:45 right now and we’ll be on our way in an hour and a half, give or take. I’m still not tired. Usually by this time I am completely slagged and simply can’t stay awake. I’m remarkably lucid right now. I must have gotten a nice chunk of sleep last night or the food is doing me some good. I had originally thought that I might spend most of my hours here at LAX languishing in a seat and fitfully dozing. But that hasn’t happened. Instead I’m sitting here, blogging about my evening. That’s a really nice change. It seems to be helping my mood quite a bit.
I also can’t help but be surprised at just how busy LAX is even at night. It’s completely dark and there are still a lot of people here. It’s noisy and busy and almost alien to me. I admit, I live a quiet life and I prefer to be home at this hour and not an airport. But I’m not really going to complain; this is the most traveling I’ve done in my lifetime. It does feel good to see a different area of the country and get just a little homesick.
I can’t wait to scratch the cat behind the ears, though.
10:05PM and the place is a zoo again; we have two different announcers calling for two different flights, while other passengers are disembarking from their aircraft and filing through the terminal. Some are chatting with their friends and family members while others are chatting on cellphones. Still others are simply striking up conversations with fellow travelers. It’s a noisy, chaotic affair, traveling.
And I’m starting to enjoy it immensely. Even though I’m apart from the chaos, simply sitting in my seat typing I’m enjoying this craziness. But after a few minutes, everything settled down again.
We boarded our plane at 10:30. Our flight was uneventful; Prime and I listened to MLB Radio on XM. I slept for most of the flight until I heard an ad on the radio proclaiming, "This game belongs to Trevor Hoffman!"
Seems they had interviewed him sometime back. Now I wish I had XM, just so I can listen to MLB Radio. XD
Our drive back was just as uneventful. When we got home, Prime and I simply crashed. I was exhausted, but never happier.
I’m slowly coming down off the high. In a few days time, I’ll be back at work but that’s okay. I have the memories, some of which I’ll be able to post here as photoblogs. And of course, there’s always next year.
--Weasel, headed back to the real world with a smile on her face
If the alarm went off this morning in our hotel room I never heard it; I was simply too tired to respond. But at around quarter to nine, I heard Prime stirring about and he told me to get up. It took a lot of strength to sit up in bed, push away the warm, cozy blankets, tuck Slumblebee into a nice safe bag pocket and stumble to the bathroom but I somehow managed to do so.
It didn’t take me long to get myself dressed and ready but by the time I was done, Prime was gone. He had taken a load of our BotCon loot to the local post office and was shipping it. In his absence I finished packing our luggage.
Since I had done a lot of packing the night before, it didn’t take me terribly long. All I really had to do was put my PJs away, get the rest of Prime’s clothes stowed in his suitcase, pack the toiletries and electronics, and clear out the mini-fridge. I was done in the matter of a half an hour or so and had just enough time to make one quick blog post before we would take down Alexa-1. After I had typed out my quickie, the phone rang. It was Prime.
He was running a bit behind and needed me to change the pick-up time for our SuperShuttle van. I told him I would, so I hit my email, loaded up the message, got our confirmation number and made the call.
I’ve often said I don’t have the world’s best luck with this sort of thing. Every single time I try to do something like this, it blows the slag up in my face. Today was no exception. The agent I got was slightly incompetent; she had no idea what the slag she was doing and said we were locked into our original pick-up time. Since I made the call on my cell and it was damn near out of minutes, I had to relent. Thankfully, Prime had made his first return from the Post Office and so said that he’d take care of it.
What took me nearly twenty minutes he had done in eight--six of which were spent on hold. He got someone who was competent, apparently.
Now that we had a bit more leeway, Prime took the second and last load of loot down to the post office and I checked us out of the hotel. After turning in our keycards, I hung around the hotel lobby and read the copies of USA Today and Time magazine that were there. When Prime finally returned, it was about ten ‘til one and I was slightly freaked out. I was a bit nervous that he may not have been able to make it on time, but Prime is in fact unbearably awesome, so I should have known better. He came bearing gifts: a footlong turkey and pepper jack sub from Subway and a pair of orange Fantas. We split the sub (his half had cilantro, and he is now slightly miffed that our local franchises don’t have it available; he’d get it ALL THE TIME if they did) and started drinking our sodas; at three minutes ‘til the hour our shuttle arrived.
Prime was greeted by the driver, who then took our bags and loaded us up. In the matter of a few minutes, we were on our way.
We picked up a few more passengers on our trip here, not including the three that were already in the shuttle. It was a full van by the time we were on the freeway. I’m surprised we even had any room to breathe. Other than that, the trip to the airport was uneventful, save for Prime nearly nodding off at a couple of points. (I do not blame him in the slightest; there were times that I felt like dozing off, too.) Once we got to the airport and got dropped off, we headed in to get our boarding passes printed out. Didn’t have to worry about checking in, as we did it electronically last night. We even got our seat assignments.
It took a bit to finally get to an Air Tran kiosk to print out the passes; some were being used, someone was trying to use one but failing and someone else was checking his bag and blocking another. The irritating thing is Prime and I were in line for that last kiosk, but some jackass cut around us and started using the thing as his fellow traveler was checking the last of his luggage. Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. We totally weren’t in slagging line for that kiosk. Jackwagon. After he was done, we got ours printed and headed to security.
LAX has really improved their security over the last couple of years. The last time Prime and I were here, we needed a bin for damn near every item in our possession: one for Alexa, one for Prime’s wallet, one for my wallet, etc. this time, we needed only two. That’s a vast improvement. We were done in a few minutes. It probably would have been slightly quicker if I hadn’t opted out of the body scanner, but I don’t want to risk getting some weird ass cancer later on in life.
After we went through security and got our stuff, we headed to a nearby Starbucks and got a pair of fraps and sandwiches. I got Mocha and a turkey and cheddar while Prime got Mocha Coconut and a chicken ciabatta sandwich.
Now, I know what you may be thinking: Didn’t you just eat, like, a couple of hours ago? Technically, yes. But we’ve both been running on empty for damn near the whole trip. Yesterday, all I had was a cheese Danish, a dish of chocolate gelato and some popcorn. That was it. This is the most food Prime and I have consumed within the span of five days. And don’t get me started on the lack of sleep either. But again, I digress.
I think DA may have created a couple of monsters. Prime was loving his frap while I was in heaven sipping mine. Mocha = Awesome. I don’t really do the coffee thing but I make the exception for Starbucks. A Starbucks frap always puts a huge smile on my face.
We ate, Prime read, and then Prime tried booting up Alexa-1 and surfing the net. As always, the free Wi-Fi at the airport refused to let us do anything web based, so I grabbed Lexi and started up a blog post. (It’s the monstrously long previous entry that you may have read.) Prime finished his book and while I was tapping away, he went to a nearby bookstore and bought two more. As you can imagine, Prime is a voracious reader. He’s already finished one and he’s started on the other. Man does love a good book.
At around 8:30 Prime made another food run; this time it was Burger King. He got a chicken Tendercrisp sandwich while I scarfed a bacon double cheeseburger. I don’t often eat a lot of meat but my body seems to be craving protein right now. Who the slag am I to argue? By that time it was getting dark. It’s been noisy here in the airport; each and every announcer for the various flights have been doing their best to scream each other down. The passengers aren’t nearly as loud as some of these people.
It’s 9:45 right now and we’ll be on our way in an hour and a half, give or take. I’m still not tired. Usually by this time I am completely slagged and simply can’t stay awake. I’m remarkably lucid right now. I must have gotten a nice chunk of sleep last night or the food is doing me some good. I had originally thought that I might spend most of my hours here at LAX languishing in a seat and fitfully dozing. But that hasn’t happened. Instead I’m sitting here, blogging about my evening. That’s a really nice change. It seems to be helping my mood quite a bit.
I also can’t help but be surprised at just how busy LAX is even at night. It’s completely dark and there are still a lot of people here. It’s noisy and busy and almost alien to me. I admit, I live a quiet life and I prefer to be home at this hour and not an airport. But I’m not really going to complain; this is the most traveling I’ve done in my lifetime. It does feel good to see a different area of the country and get just a little homesick.
I can’t wait to scratch the cat behind the ears, though.
10:05PM and the place is a zoo again; we have two different announcers calling for two different flights, while other passengers are disembarking from their aircraft and filing through the terminal. Some are chatting with their friends and family members while others are chatting on cellphones. Still others are simply striking up conversations with fellow travelers. It’s a noisy, chaotic affair, traveling.
And I’m starting to enjoy it immensely. Even though I’m apart from the chaos, simply sitting in my seat typing I’m enjoying this craziness. But after a few minutes, everything settled down again.
We boarded our plane at 10:30. Our flight was uneventful; Prime and I listened to MLB Radio on XM. I slept for most of the flight until I heard an ad on the radio proclaiming, "This game belongs to Trevor Hoffman!"
Seems they had interviewed him sometime back. Now I wish I had XM, just so I can listen to MLB Radio. XD
Our drive back was just as uneventful. When we got home, Prime and I simply crashed. I was exhausted, but never happier.
I’m slowly coming down off the high. In a few days time, I’ll be back at work but that’s okay. I have the memories, some of which I’ll be able to post here as photoblogs. And of course, there’s always next year.
--Weasel, headed back to the real world with a smile on her face
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