home dsl becomes a reality...

Well, look who the cat gods have dragged in! Look who's letting his Internet habit flare up and out of control! I am most definitely playing with fire here; home DSL for me could be quite dangerous. Last night I got it up and running, and I stayed up until almost 3:30 am. I was supposed to be in Oak Park by 9 am, and guess what time I woke up at? 8:51. Thankfully my boss W. wasn't there. Actually, he doesn't like the term "boss", although he is the one cutting my paychecks. I can't say anything bad about him, and I've got it quite good. Anyway, I was supposed to give massages to the office staff, but there was nowhere to put me. The company where I give massages once every 2 weeks usually has an absent employee whose office we can use. The company prez had to walk down the hall and ask the law firm to use an unoccupied office there. And so it began, with a little ado. I offered massage to the gals in the law office, per El Jefe's request, which I would have done anyway, being altogether fitting and proper. Only one was able to take me up on it. The company had a lunch meeting scheduled for 11:30 with Panera sandwiches and real frozen margaritas. El Jefe said to me, "Hey Carlos, have a margarita! The bucket is in the kitchen." I didn't think they were alcoholic at first, but... Thank goodness I only had a couple... of sips, that is. I remarked to one of the interns there that it was sad that I couldn't tell there was alcohol just by tasting it. I say a drunk massage therapist is no therapist at all, just another drunk who wants to touch you. So far, work's been going alright all in all. I've met my financial goal for Burning Man with 2 1/2 months to spare. You'll be sure to hear from me on a regular basis. Oh, and this weekend I reserved a rental car to get to the Crescent City Fireball Festival, where I'll be meeting up with my boy Tesla who lives in Springfield. The festival in question commemorates the fateful day in June 1970 when a tanker car on a train asploded, leveling the town. Miraculously, no one was killed. So, they hold a festival every 5 years. Crescent City is 25 miles south of Kankakee; the closest exit on I-57 is Gilman, IL. I don't know what to expect on their part: friendliness, hostility or indifference. I just need to corral a video camera for the occasion because Tesla has this idea of putting together a documentary for Springfield (and very possibly Chicago/Kankakee/Watseka) cable access.

U.S. Geological Survey circular

High speed internet access

Petroleum management

Petroleum engineer international

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