Ah, it’s so nice out and here I sit, pounding keys yet again. I say that with a slight smile on my face, not because I really enjoy the inside on such an outside day, but it’s a lot easier to shut up and get stuff done than to whine and do it later anyway.

Think I’m going riding again after class today. I took the Jeep on some old dirt roads with Kath yesterday, windows down, music up; awesome time, felt good to get out. Hoping to play catch some time soon as well, it’s been too long.

I’m still undecided as to whether or not I should’ve played ball. I’ll never make the big leagues so all the time I put into baseball through college would be for nothing. Freshmen year I felt that it was time to “grow up,” appreciate the 13 years I did get to play, move on, and get the grades. Thinking of it now, I don’t regret what I did. School, GPA, summer internships; these are direct factors on what job I get in 2007, how well it pays, if it’s a job I even like, etc. I watched it happen to my brother (graduated last year). He stuck the route, kicked ass in school, and ends up with a dream job, new truck, and paid college.

“I am a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work the more I have of it…” -Thomas Jefferson

If there is one pebble that won’t get out of my shoe though, it’s accepting that most people I meet have no idea what I’ve done; they only know what they see of me today but there’s so much to the Adrian story that goes unheard, unseen. School is a time and place for studying my brains out, hitting the gym, and as of late, working on web design. Problem is: that’s not the entire picture. The “talent” in being coordinated, if you can call it that, the mind to watch, know, and understand people (probably the most overlooked), the “feel” for handling anything (cars, trucks, snowmobiles, dirt bikes…). These are all elements of the me that were used almost daily at home but are put to rest once the school year begins.

I suppose it’ll add up somewhere, that a lifetime of construction, mechanics, and common sense will prove their worth in the real world. Only time will tell. For now, I wake up, go to class, lift at night; a million ideas, a thousand skills kept quiet under one hat.

Just printed a one-hundred and thirty nine page thesis paper. Why? Because I’m hungry for the knowledge. The same hunger I feel when I’m at the gym. The same hunger I feel when I read about twenty year old millionaires.

Its a ball in my stomach. Not something I can describe but rather something that makes me clench my fists and say…”its gonna happen, no question”

I got a lot of positive responses on the delicious bird I drew awhile back so I’ll keep you all updated on what “masterpieces” may spawn from my Drawing I class. Bert (art professor) said I should be ashamed for not entering some works into the art show this Thursday but I’m not so sure when the most exciting thing we’ve drawn so far are boxes… just sitting there… being all, box-like.

At any rate, consider this your free show. (click to enlarge)

The Subaru’s stuffed to the roof, we pile in, and head for the hills. It’s dark again, like last time we went to the camp, except this night the moon is a day shy from full and brighter than The Bat Signal.

Sounds of breaking chains chime in my head as the imprisoning worries of school lose their reach and wisp away like trailing dust in the rear view mirror. We work our way through multiple towns; the houses become increasingly smaller and the number of broken down vehicles more than triples. Even the squirrels were singing, “And with a rebel yell…”

We finally reach the cabin, this little piece of heaven watched over by a thousand stars and a direct tap into the childhood camping memories I had almost forgotten. The sauna was relaxing, to no surprise, but apparently our energy had not been fully exerted as later that night (or morning, I should say) we found ourselves gathering inner tubes, inflatable chairs, and a kayak, and plotting the slipperiest route down the snow coated driveway to the frozen lake below.

Casualties:
1- black inner tube
1- inflatable chair
1- ice scraped hand
1- rear hatch of the Subaru (won’t open at the moment)
1- heart attack after trippping someone’s car alarm that howled like a freight train
Countless- body-trampled bushes

I think we managed to unfold the sleeping bags and go to sleep at around 2 or 3am. A couple of us even woke at 5:30 just to hike the short mountain and watch the sunrise, but for us others (the smarter ones, I’ll say, hehe), a window view from a warm bed with pancakes on the mind was just as satisfying.

Thanks to the fellas who came along and to the little lady who put up with us fellas.

I got the rear wheel added to my tattoo today, finally. Check it out, let me know what you think!

I was either extremely tired in Media Criticism, or the Escher within is starting to show.

(click to enlarge)

Yesterday:
I went to Forever Bonnie’s Tattoo, where I got my first “intentional scar” done a couple years back. This lady’s something else; she’s originally from the west coast and by some of the stories she tells, was quite the little hell raiser in her younger days. Regardless, she does incredible work and is why I brought my brother-to-be-inked for a look at some of her examples. We weren’t there very long, flash art all looks the same after awhile, but I didn’t leave before asking what it would cost to have my truck touched up (notice I forgot the right-rear tire when I drew the sketch!).

“For that? Free. I’m pretty sure we meant to have four wheels,” Bonnie says with a smile. “Come back in a week; that’s my next opening.”

Today around 11:30am:
I’m reading my friend’s blog, BoredMind, and feeling like the name implies. Mom shows up, just back from getting the mail and bearing the latest issue of Peterson’s 4-Wheel & Off Road (of course, the best thing I could’ve hoped for). Dad’s talking, mom’s sorting junk from bills, and the second page I randomly flip to has MY truck in it!!! Let me say that again: I made the May 2005 issue of Pete’s!

I sent in the request for Reader’s Rides at least a few years ago and had completely forgotten about it, only to be happily surprised that the truck is in, looks good, and the write up says it all! Search the couch for spare change, sell your soul on eBay, do whatever you have to do to buy this issue!

Five minutes later:
“Gimp” calls and asks if I want a ticket to go see Brad Paisley, Reba MacIntyre, and Terri Clark at the Tweeter Center, the best news all week! “Definitely, sign me up,” I said, “That’s awesome.”

Is there a mud God?
Truck tattoo soon to be completed, Dolly featured in Pete’s, and I’m going to see Brad Paisley, whose recent hit is, “Mud on the Tires.” Sounds like a good spring season to me!

Ever wonder what an executable file looks like under the hood? Probably not unless you’re a geek but people who read blogs usually are so…

First, download and install the debugger Ollydbg. Run the program and select “attach” from the file menu. Attach to a running process like “firefox.exe”. Your screen will fill up with lots of code called assembly language. This assembly language is the actual code for the process that Ollydbg is attached to. Don’t expect to see any high level structures like FOR loops or IF statements. Compilers tranform this high level source code into assembly language when creating an executable file. The computer then reads the assembly and tranforms this into ones and zeroes.

This isn’t meant to be a tutorial by any means so I will stop here. For the geeks…google reverse engineering software and see how to step through live programs with Ollydbg. This can be interesting because you basically have complete control. You can trick software into doing anything you want…skipping passwords, changing scores, starting the girls off in strip poker with a “small” disadvantage.

Snowmobiles race along side the road, bundled up fishermen dangle their favorite lures below six inches of ice, and the worries of school slowly fall off with the slush on Jeep mud flaps.

I made the trip home the other day, country music on the radio and family on my mind. I pull into our drive, the past forty miles feeling like the waking stages from a deep sleep, refreshed, relaxed, myself again. Last week’s school was at its “finest” with mid-terms, single digit weather, and the constant reminder that you can’t make everyone happy. At home though, none of that matters.

A little girl keeps staring back at me, laughing when I tilt my hat just right and soothed by the sound of boots on hardwood floors as we pace the living room back and forth. I wonder what’s going on in that mind of hers, still under three months old; she’s probably getting a kick out of how tired my arm is after carrying her tiny butt around all night. It doesn’t take long before big curious eyes grow heavy, sporadic giggles turn into yawns, and I kiss my niece goodnight.

I’ll go back to CSC in a week, ready to crank some more work out, continue progressing at the gym, and with the reminder of what life’s all about.

I got 80’s up for reps doing flatbench dumbbells the other night; that’s like lifting half of myself in each hand, or like Travis and I usually say, a couple o’ midgets. Overall, my body weight’s up 15lbs from the start of the year and with the Speedy Gonzalez metabolism I have, that’s not too bad.