In San Diego I was listening to a lot of TtWS. CDs of course. When I was still living with X1 this song always came on - on the way home - right as I made the transition from I-8 to I-15 on my way to Tierrasanta. To this day just hearing the atonal intro puts me there again, fighting the ridiculous traffic battle that is southern California. Always wondering how someone who had it so together at work could be so clueless about his personal life.
Enough of that.
They’re here! The summer people arrived in force on Friday. I made the mistake of going to Shaw’s at 3pm (I always initially type in military time, “1500” then realize I was part of a cult that had a different way of telling time from the rest of the world). The parking lot was completely full. I parked at the end of the parking lot and noted that there wasn’t a Maine plate to be seen. Massachusetts, New York, Connecticut, Virginia.
Under my breath I said “They’re here.” Thus the misery begins. A million cars passed up the Maine turnpike this last weekend. There are only 1.4 million full time residents of Maine. Depending on how many people were in each car, the population of Maine at least doubled on Friday. Maybe tripled.
It is a love/hate thing. I know that a lot of seasonal businesses completely depend on the bag of dicks that flow up the turnpike and proceed to act as if they own the place. But goddamn doesn’t the traffic get crazy fast.
To my knowledge the state of Maine has built exactly one road since I was born: The Brunswick-Topsham 196 bypass. Other than that the roads are exactly the same as they were in 1962. The problem being that the population has tripled, and then doubles again on holiday weekends.
I live about 2 miles from route 1. Yesterday morning - at 5am - I could hear the thrum of wheels from two miles away. At least the air was sweet.
Job search is sucking wind. Unless you are in the health care industry, or want to work at Walmart, you are shit outta luck in Maine.
I found a job listing at Alion. I re-jiggered my resume and cover letter and submitted. The web web page crashed. I started over and resubmitted. The web page crashed. I did that eight times.
So I either didn’t apply, or I applied eight times.
Cirrus syllabus and ground school. I am starting to think about going for it. If I finished cashing out my IRA, then spent no money on anything other bills and tuna I could probably get my private ticket and be most of the way toward a CFI by the end of the year. Flying is expensive. The beauty of a CFI is the student pays for the flight time and the instructor still gets to log the time.
Goddamn those Ruskies! (Svetlana Bilyalova)
T-1 Mach Loop, Wales. Awesome.
The ground perspective.
In the end I’m sensing a change in the weather, in the end the path is clear…
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