Thursday, September 15, 2005

If you're going to San Francisco, make sure you wear... a coat!

Land has shifted since I last posted, which tells me that I may not be fit to attain my goal of writing 2 to 3 blogs per week. I apologize for not posting curt opinions regarding the notable hurricane and its effects like many other bloggers. In biting my tongue, I now realize how hard it is to be an unbiased source. Anyhow, I couldn't watch the news any longer. My tanline was fading and I had to act fast. I packed my bags and headed for frisco. The first stop was Las Vegas. The passenger beside me informed me that vegas air was "just like sticking your head in the oven." I never saw him again, but I did feel like the weather was respected by few, including Sylvia Plath. Upon landing in frisco, I knew that I didn't bring enough warm clothes. The air is a late autumn dry breeze, which is not easily depicted in the tropical foilage and cold blooded locals wearing t-shirts and board shorts. The water is a sting, colder than Maine lobsters can stand. I took three expensive bus routes to the surf shop only to find that the months in Costa Rica pay close to nothing, so the only time I'd be getting paid would be in this balmy frisco weather. I was thinking of this company in San Diego that was interested in my writing abilities. I had to ask myself, "Am I willing to give up the best windsurfing breeze in the country for warm weather, a hammock and a writing job?" YES. So I turned down the job, and went home. San Diego likes my writing style. I think he's just a sweet talker, just like Oregon said I reminded him of a girl training for the olympics, but I'm buying it, so I need to think of ways to save enough money to move there. Next week, I'm selling my gear at a flea market. With my 3 sails, 2 masts, boom, board, extensions and kiteboard, I expect to raise around $2,500. I am not completely abandoning my love for windsurfing. The West Coast has year round windsurfing facilities, so I don't really need my own gear. In addition to working for CBI's infamous adult program, which will fund nothing, I'm arranging to teach my very own windsurfing clinic at Franklin Pierce College. I'm thinking that will bring in $500. The decision to sell my board won't be easy to fulfill, but I sense it's for the better. Until then, craigslist is my destination.

My new invention ideas have been borderline mundane, but I think amongst them is a diamond in the ruff...

So, I have been infatuated with the idea that ad google will pay anyone money to give them ad space. You just need to have an uberous amount of hits a day to make a decent living. Instead of cold calling people and begging them to read my blog, I've decided to talk some people into linking my site into theirs, and encouraging them to get their site linked to someone else's and so on. If one of us manages to get a frequently hit website on our chain then I am golden. It's just like the pyramid scheme, except I'm scheming ad google, not innocent consumers.

Have you ever been tired of staring at that boring plastic beeper, when waiting for your table to be ready? These new beepers have helped restauants in shopping malls prevent loitering in the lobby, allowing the shoppers to go about their business until their table is ready. But the tired shoppers still sit there looking at those beepers with their minds on food. My idea is that every beeper should be a handheld videogame, and when the player wins, his table is ready. This device is rigged so that the player won't be able to win UNTIL his table is ready. For security purposes, the game will not be able to resume again until placed in the charger. Just like the beepers, the restaurant hostess can easily page the party for their table, except this page will release the nintendo genie, allowing the player to beat the game.

I encourage you all to keep reading, spread the love and feel free to comment. Please let me know what you think. This blog has turned into something I care about very much. I will leave you with a short quote from Faulkner. "The past is never dead and buried --it isn't even past."