Posts Tagged ‘Kevin’

In Retrospect

After my fit on Wednesday, I hit eBay looking for tickets to tonight’s San Diego show. My thinking being that I could hop a flight down there mid-day today, hit the show, and then take the first flight out tomorrow morning so I could leave for vacation as planned.

Seriously, this was my line of thinking on Wednesday. I had the tickets picked out on eBay (no idea who would use the 2nd one of the pair…Kevin and Morgan are both up here at the moment and I don’t know anyone else in the greater SD area who would go with) and the flights in the chute on Southwest. And then I got distracted by something in the house, the Southwest site timed out, I ended up closing all my tabs in disgust with the intent of coming back later to spend my cash…and then I just never did. I think the deep dark recesses of my brain were telegraphing subliminal DON’T DO IT messages to the rest of the quivering, wrinkled mass; I honestly didn’t have a jones to go back and finish shit up.

And it’s a damn good thing. Because that show in San Diego tonight? CANCELED.

Do you know how violent I would’ve become had I bought the tickets and flown down there? SD folks weren’t as lucky as we were…they got about five hours’ notice instead of our 24 hours. So I would have been in mid-flight as the e-mail was being circulated.

Depeche Mode…you’ve escaped my wrath…this time

Taking the Week Off

Yes folks, if you can believe it…I’m heading out on another vacation.

Hey, I get four weeks – my pittance for spending 15 years with the same company (besides the thrill of gainful employment and a steady paycheck). I’m going to use every last drop of time off that I can, barring needless consumption of “sick days”.

As always happens in August, I’m off to the Mendocino coast to while away the hours amongst the trees, under the stars, in the sand, yadda yadda. With the promise of a mini heat wave sweeping through the valley in the next few days, I would definitely consider this a timely escape. And I do mean escape.

The nice thing about this year is that I no longer have lab classes I have to take in person, so I was able to move my camping time back by a week, which would have normally clashed with the start of fall semester at all of our area colleges. Later camping means less retarded people to deal with. Theoretically anyway. It could very well mean that all the people too retarded to be in school are instead flooding the campgrounds with their ilk. Oh boy.

The big thing I’m looking forward to this year is no laptop, or even internet connection for that matter. In the past I’ve had to bring my laptop with me every trip up there because I’ve had schoolwork due. Which makes things worse because every time I had to go into town to link up and turn in assignments, I’d end up checking e-mail, leaving Facebook/MySpace/FriendFeed notes, and generally ruining the entire concept of heading to the Great Outdoors to begin with.

With my awesome summer term load this year, I’m able to submit the bulk of my work tomorrow morning before I leave, and then the next round of work isn’t due until the Monday I’m back. And bonus – there is no such thing as 3G up and down the entire Mendocino coast. I don’t know how the Mendo yuppies stand it, but there you have it. Unless I find a wireless connection to glom onto, I cannot use half my iPhone internet apps, and the chances of me attempting to do everything via Safari is slim-to-none. Oh, the stray TwitPic may find its way to the ‘net at some point, but I will be by and large completely disconnected. Ahhhhh…savor the sweet sweet sounds of silence.

So in case I don’t blog before I leave tomorrow, I bid y’all adieu and whatnot. Don’t let The Man get you down. Or something.

Feeling my fanhood waning…

You’ll never believe it. No honestly, you won’t. Why not? Because I swore it wouldn’t happen. I swore that Fleetwood Mac was the kind of stand-up band that knew and respected its hard-earned fan base. They would come through for us and we would rejoice as a thousand angels sang hymns of wonder and awe.

Motherfuckers canceled on us completely. And we didn’t even get a say in the matter. Nosiree. We got an e-mail from Ticketmaster telling us that the band had chosen to cancel completely and we would receive an automatic refund. And then they automatically refunded my credit card to the tune of $335 dollars and 75 cents.

I don’t know what’s worse…knowing that this was most likely my last chance to see the band perform together, or knowing that Kevin and Morgan will be seeing them on Sunday. Both of them born after the band had already broken up in the 80′s! ARGH.

Mother. Fuckers.

Mother. Fuckers.