1. Diesel OLED watch - OOOOOH me likey. Again with the timepiece fetish. I’m not a fan of metal watchbands, but the leather one is killer. Sleek, stylish, refined yet with a certain edge.
2. The Vogue website - I found a concert that I’d love to attend (Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings), which for me is a rarity. And when I went to check out the venue’s site I was pleasantly surprised. Beautiful, subtle use of Flash, well laid out, informative. A great website is assuredly a rarity in this particular market.
3. Travis Barker’s Soulja Boy drum remix - I’m not a fan of Mr. Barker, and Soulja Boy’s “Superman” gets under my skin. But the rock-remix drumming over top accomplishes a few things here: 1) makes the song infinitely better, 2) distracts me from the inane lyrical content, and 3) gives me a bit more respect for Travis. Artists going into a recording space to do stupid crap like this is awesome.
4. Strobist - I suck as a photographer, but at least I have the desire to learn and get better, right? Strobist has some incredible talent in it’s audience, and more importantly has invaluable lessons on lighting. Half of it is out of my league (money, time), but articles like this one make me realize just how much I have to learn. I’m glued to this site for every update.
5. Early morning work sessions - Even though I’m on vacation and I was up five and a half hours past my normal bedtime last night (danger!), I still got up like clockwork at my normal time and have been able to knock out some work. My view? The sunrise over mountains. Awesome.

Take care of each other this weekend. I’ve been reminded recently just how fallacious the life of loved ones can be.

This morning was an train wreck. Having withheld precipitation from us for pretty much the entire summer, God and/or Al Gore decided to make up for lost time with this one single storm. And boy did it rain. A lot. As in “epic flood proportions.” I was two seconds away from building that arc. I just hadn’t had my coffee yet. Tough call.

The Wife™ and I are heading to the cabin in the woods for a few days of drunken XBox playing relaxation and to enjoy the little bit of autumn weather we can find. That being said, we had to get up a wee bit earlier this morning in order to get some stuff done. This, to Jonas, translates to OMG! EXTRA CRAZY-GO-NUTS PLAYTIME. Boy was he surprised when he saw what was going on outside.

All we needed was for him to run outside and pee like the little wuss dog that he is (he still hasn’t learned to lift his leg like *real* dude dogs should). The problem was, the second we opened the door and he heard the deafening roar of the rain hitting the deck, he looked up at us like, “Yea, right. This is SO not going to happen the way you think it is.” So in the interest of expediency (and after a few trial deliberations), we tossed his furry ass out the door.

We must have looked like complete idiots standing at the kitchen window, pounding our fists and screaming, “GO POTTY! GO POTTY!” over and over. There’s a solid chance I have a straight jacket waiting for me when I get home, assuming the neighbors witnessed this spectacular display of lunacy. See, once we got him out the door, the problem quickly became that he thought it was Crazy-Go-Nuts Fun Time. He was running in circles around the deck. He was sprinting down the steps (through a mud pit), running around the yard, and sprinting back to the door (through that same mud pit, for good measure), all while forgetting the one thing that we humans were ranting about inside. I’m willing to bet my savings account that he knew exactly what he was doing, and that this was a defiant act of retribution for making him go to the kennel (or “Summer Camp” as he knows it) for the weekend.

After much spirited cajoling and almost shattering the windows with our fist pounding, he finally scored a touchdown and came inside to a sea of towels. Laying on his side, absolutely drenched, he just looked up at us while we did the “Please Don’t Get Mud On My Dress Clothes, Damnit!” dance around him. And I swear, if this dog could talk, at that moment he was saying, “This? Think about this moment when you leave me at Camp for four days. Prick.” And then he planted his back foot on my pants.

I’ve never seen a bigger smile on his face.

It appears as if there is a new trend in the corporate world these days when it comes to posting job openings. When I first entered the work place five very long short years ago, I lucked into a job, a job that saved me from my then current state of unemployment and my subsequent budget of $19/month for food. The thing is, way back then, all the way back in 2002, they did things that today appear to be frowned upon. Like listing a salary. Or actual words, words that mean something to the interested parties, words that translate to more than “BLAH BLAH BLAH.” They were cute little postings that looked like this:

Pretty normal, right? But now? Now corporate America is much smarter. It’s been half a decade. They *know* the design world, they’ve sipped the Kool-Aid and are hip to branding and the need for marketing. Now 98% of the job postings that I see come through are little more than this:

And while I *may* have exaggerated some of that, I swear on all that’s holy, some of those “requirements” are verbatim from recent postings in this area. I’ve seen one job in the past two years that actually advertised a salary range. Why? What are they trying to hide? The fact that you’ll be underpaid, overtaxed and under-appreciated? I think that’s expected in most jobs, to be honest. But trying to ascertain what is a “mildly-justifiable absurd career leap” and what is an “almost certainly absurd career leap” is darn near impossible. I couldn’t weed out the *really* crappy jobs if I wanted to. And what’s the alternative? Apply to them all and then turn them down when I find out I’d have to take a 20% cut? And don’t get me started on the fact that 50% of the job openings are listed from temp agencies…

Maybe it’s my geographic region. Maybe the fact that I live in the technological equivalent of a black hole doesn’t help. Perhaps in cities outside of Kentucky, postings for design jobs are written well (and pay well), giving the hopeful a sense that they might enjoy working there. But here? I’m starting to believe that I’d honestly have a better chance at becoming a diesel mechanic than I would waiting for a legitimate job opportunity.

1. This jacket from APC - Those of us shaped like fire hydrants (short, long torso, tiny arms, duh) would look like crap in something like this. But if I were tall and lanky I’d rock this hard. And maybe this too. *Sigh*
2. The news that Zack de la Rocha is finally going to release his solo album - I was a huge Rage Against the Machine fan in high school. I was bummed when they split in 2000. What made it all worse was hearing some of the tracks that he cut with DJ Shadow right before he went AWOL. I guess he’s finally going to release the disc though. So. Stoked.
3. Real grilled cheese - Last night I had a hankerin’ for some *real* grilled cheese, not the crap using processed cheese and wimpy Wonderbread™, so I made a loaf of homemade bread, cut it into thick slices, slapped some salted butter on the outsides and put some freshly cut Vermont white cheddar cheese inside. Instant heaven. Screw you salad and chicken breast!
4. Having a mobile data plan - It’s no secret that I hate phones. But since I finally switched to a data plan for this thing, I feel like it’s changed my life. I no longer have the “oh crap I need to email that when I get home/back to my desk” thoughts. It’s just like the first time I used a wireless computer. Sublime.
5. These examples of web typography - I’ve had a secret crush on Andy Rutledge’s DesignView for awhile, and there are 14 other fantastic examples here. I bow before their greatness.

Last night my world came crashing down around me. The catalyst was a simple spinach salad. I s’pose that needs a little clarification seeing as it likely makes no sense whatsoever.

I’m what you could call a habitual eater. I pretty much eat the same crap every day, possibly not rotating “menus” for months on end. I was born this way and have come to accept it. If anything, it makes grocery shopping REALLY FRICKIN’ EASY. I made one list back in 1998 and don’t have to even look at it by now. I can do a weeks worth of grocery shopping blindfolded and bound in under 7 minutes. No, I’m kidding. Sometimes I forget whether it’s the Mesquite turkey or the Oven Roasted. The deli aisle makes me woozy.

Most people get bored by eating the same thing two days in a row, let alone the same six meals for months or years on end. And the worst part is that I love food, of all types, and love cooking even more. So it makes little sense that I should sentence myself to a life of boring, mechanical munching.

I won’t lie though, as someone who does try to eat healthily, making sure that I get a good balance of proteins, fats and carbohydrates, having one defined menu is convenient. Assuming I don’t deviate, I know exactly what my intake levels are. Perhaps it’s a control issue? But that wouldn’t explain why growing up, I still asked for the same food, passing through such phases as: The Cinnamon Toast (Not Crunch) & Milk Breakfast Dynasty (1984-1987), The Bologna & Cheese Lunch Combo Regime (1985-1990) and the Pasta-Roni™ & Diet Coke Empire (1994-1998).

For the past unknown number of months, my menu has been standard fare, including eggs, fish, soy milk, chicken, turkey, black beans, salads, etc. Heck, most of these foods, I’ve been eating every day for the last five years (or more) without getting sick of them. I like these foods. There have been times when I’ve even been rather excited to get to eat those eggs, those eggs that were no different from the eggs the day before, but yet today seem particularly delicious. That is until this week.

It started Monday, when the smell of that tuna fish almost made me vomit on the counter as I prepared my meals for the following work day. It was so unexpected, I thought it was a fluke side effect from just finishing a particularly hard work out. Yet when I went to eat said tuna fish yesterday at work, I pulled the classic five year old maneuver of shoveling it into my face and swallowing with a throat full of water so as not to taste The Nastiness. I just couldn’t do it anymore. And my dinner last night, a spinach salad and a chicken breast, was a repeat performance. For the first time in forever, I had to ditch the last few bites of my salad because it would have taken Jesus reappearing on Earth with some really, really great croûtons to get me to finish that shit. At least I assume if Jesus came back, he’d be packin’ some killer croûtons.

So here I am, suddenly and inexplicably lost. The staple foods that I’ve depended upon for over half a decade to nourish me now make me feel like I’ve just attempted to chug a quart of Valvoline. No warning, no reason for it. Unless of course I’m pregnant. Which, while it WOULD explain the sudden shift of palette, would leave certain other questions unanswered…

We’ve created a monster. Okay, technically he already was one but now we’ve just introduced a ‘whole new type of Crazy into the equation. And not a surprise to anyone, it’s annoying as hell.

I often write about (read: annoyingly so) how I love autumn and especially the change of power between the seasons, summer relinquishing it’s grip to a more peaceful fall. Unfortunately this year we have something in our lives that is threatening to upset this sacrosanct period of time: Jonas.

Now that the daytime weather is under 100°F, The Wife™ and I can resume playing fetch with His Almightiness, without fear that he’ll drop over dead due to exhaustion. And while the thought of such has appealing angles, it’s an envelope we haven’t pushed because that would be wrong. Well, that and I would have thusly a criminal record, which is not cool. And by not cool I mean not worth it. So ultimately we played sparingly over the summer to preserve the Aliveness of the dog.

Much to our chagrin, however, Jonas is now attempting to make up for lost time. Playing Ball is one of his most favorite activities, right up there with Destroying and Pillaging. So now that we’ve slightly increased our involvement, he’s stepped it up to. His entire existence revolves around getting us out into the backyard with his scheming and plotting. Six in the morning? Of course we should. What? You can’t see me waiting for you in the backyard? No problem, I’ll just ram my face into the back door until you notice me waiting. Oh, did we just finish a 30-minute session? Perhaps by throwing the ball myself, repeatedly, against the glass pane, you’ll get the hint. HINT. HINT. HINT. And so it goes, all day, every day. Weekends home with him are a true exercise in patience.

So this morning, as I prepared my coffee and lunch to head off to work, there he stood in the backyard with his eyes peering through the dark, staring at the doorknob. Waiting. Wagging his tail. HELLO? PLAY BALL?! WHY NOT?

Poor little guy. I’m sure he’ll be standing in his crate when I get home though, revving up to let ‘er rip once again for another six hours.

1. db clay wallets - You know, for something that I carry with me every day of my life, I’ve never given too much thought to the design or aesthetics of my wallets. Seeing these from the trendy Portland outfit db clay makes me realize just how lame my plain black one is.
2. Bell’s Batch 8,000 Ale - I found this new, limited offering in the store this week. Bell’s puts out some incredible beer, and this strong Belgian ale is no different. The smell alone makes me weak in the knees, with hints of honey, corriander and orange peel. TGIF.
3. Kanye West’s Graduation - I decided to pick this album up because for all the bragging and narcissism this guy packs into an interview, he’s a damn fine producer. His MC skills are acceptable, as good if not marginally better than most top-40 emcees. But the instrumental tracks behind songs like “Champion,” “The Good Life,” “Stronger” and “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” are admirable and infectious. Dude’s got too much swagger, but as long as he keeps making hip hop that’s different from the T.I.’s and the Rich Boy’s of the world, that’s all I care about.
4. Not fighting with the A/C - Last night I sat on the porch for the first time in quite a long time. It was the first of those picture-perfect sunsets that announce the coming of autumn, where the nights are cool and devoid of humidity but yet warm enough not to need a jacket. A bonus of this time of year is not having to fight to get the A/C to run for 10 minutes before it dies again. Maybe a long winter’s nap will leave it refreshed for springtime?
5. Pay attention in biology class if you want to avoid embarrassment when you get older - An endearing little article, well worth the read.

1. Word Find wallpaper - Last night I started the process of painting my office. This morning I found this kick-ass wallpaper that would be loads of fun to use on one wall. Too bad I hate wallpaper. About as much as I hate turnips or colonics.
2. Article about Kanye West’s house - No, this couldn’t be further from an episode of Cribs. Dude is apparently way into pop art (if you couldn’t tell by his recent aesthetics or mentality). Cool article, beautiful home. [via]
3. The video work of Tim Hayward - My high school friends will immediately recognize him. I went to school with Tim many years ago, and he was the only other guy I knew who was obsessed with 3d rendering and modeling, back when it took 2 weeks to render an 800x600 still image with raytracing. Tim found me on Myspace last week, and I was thrilled. Turns out he’s producing some kick-ass work out in LA.
4. Stratford (in Canada) - Last weekend The Wif™ and I headed north with my parents. We bunked at a little bed & breakfast, a beautiful house done in high federalist style (? I’m rusty on my architecture). We caught two plays, The Merchant of Venice and Oscar Wilde’s An Ideal Husband. And while it wasn’t nearly as perfect as the real Stratford (upon Avon, which the Canadian version is modeled after), the acting was superb and it was a stellar weekend. You should go sometime.
5. Radical Honesty - A slightly painful yet entertaining read, this article from Esquire magazine covers a journalists experience with Radical Honesty. If you’ve never heard of it, then you’re likely just as much of a normal person as I am. Even though by posting this I think it will make me look a bit smarter. Truth be told, I never read Esquire because I can’t afford it. Stop now…