RyanHarne.com

The Eurpoean Cafe now has free wi-fi. Do you know what this means? Of course you don’t, halfwit! (Please take the remark lightly, and continue to enjoy my euphoric ranting). It means that there is now a relatively close by coffeeshop that once again offers free internet access to its patrons. Mentally, I’m already mapping out my spring season of lattes and mochas each passionately enjoyed with a buddy list nagging me and my news being updated regularly. A geek could find no better outlet.

To assure restless minds, I’m working on a new design but am delaying its launch for a few days. It will be nothing like the new Nanovivid.com and the splendor that it contains, but my redesign will be granted enough.

I swear, they won’t give up until they take every bit of our cake: Microsoft tries to patent the Internet, again.

It must be said! It must be told! It must be shouted from every roof top! I am having a Wonderful time playing with the BRCC bands. Why on earth did I ever gain a contempt for my musicianship; what did that profit me? Playing, once again, with fabulous talent is so contagious and delightful at the same time. Imagine not having your right arm (or if that’s missing, then… the other arm); you could certainly function without it, no loss-o’-the-arm will guarantee you a dastardly visit by death. But, everything is much more complete, full, and harmonious when both arms work in tandem; plus, it gives you a better appreciation of what that arm can do when it is actually performing the tasks assigned for it.

It’s a blissful rapture to be playing music again. I’m no chimeric about the whole situation, but just very excited.

And also I just put together my fall semester schedule which is satisfying.

The day reminds me that it is proper time to plant the beloved marigolds so that by mid-summer they will overwhelm us with their, supposed, bug-repellant stench and populate to the point of paying a regular rent. Should they reproduce rapidly enough, I’ll post a picture of their pattern of spread; or rather… ::thought:: I can do a little experiment. Ok, let’s science! I’ll return to this proposal in the future.

However, I shouldn’t depart from my intended path. I promised that the story of my Saturday would be told, and here I fulfill.

Allison had invited me to her senior prom since I am in town with this co-op (bittersweet though it may be - missing the VT atmosphere but acquiring valuable engineering experience). I was eager to attend with her if she should please, but I did not, at all, want to rent a tux for the event. She and I decided on a Roanoke trip for yesterday.

‘Twas successful, ’twas. Instead of the blessed success of finding everything at one location, we ended up putting together a patchwork suit. The tie is the only item still up in the air; and by up in the air, I mean the clothes all escaped/flew out of the open car window and we were unable to retrieve the tie.

Actually, that didn’t happen. But, it would have been exciting nonetheless. We did, though, stop in Blacksburg for dinner and Bollo’s. It only increased my yearning to return to Tech asap. And here I ::sigh::

The return trip was… interesting. I continually forget which exit to take to cut back to highway 460 east from eye-81. So, we took all of them (not all, but all of the ones in that vicinity). They are all so similar in setting and composition that I forever am missing the correct one. Eventually, I picked the correct one and have now memorized which off-ramp signs etc. to look for (the main one being the “Lynchburg - Exit ###” sign - the only sign for any of those off-ramps indicating access to Lynchburg). That was humiliating but provided an entertaining topic of conversation - my stupidity.

Oh my, well it’s spring. Have a blast, folks!

I saw a license plate today marked as my subject line. That was very humorous. And for my personal memory (for instance, when I am laughing at myself years from now after reading all of these forsaken blogs and have no recollection of what “rico 82″ could have meant) I will link the allusion.

I spent the day with Allison and we travelled about. To be continued.

I sure hope that one-quarter of a Breyer’s carton is a serving.

::cough:: I mean… one-third.

Tonight I have been plagued. My sanity was robbed and I became lonesome and afraid.

In every single moment of pause or silence, I would suddenly hear Sam Beauregarde’s famous line, “Violet! You’re turning violet, Violet!” By saying “hear” it, I, of course, mean mentally. But truly, in every instance of when I have not been clearly thinking or focusing on something, my mind repeats this line. Over. And over.

For some people, they are strangely stricken with the ever-repeating ending chorus from The Beatles’ “Hey Jude” where nah-nah-nahs take hold. Others have clever bass riffs from Seinfeld playing forever within their minds; in every case of relaxation they may have in that day, suddenly they see that sickening grin from Seinfeld’s face and hear a jazz bass player slap a few strings.

Nevertheless, I have been going mad hearing that line manifest itself continuously. I think writing about it helps me release myself from its tireless grip.

Violet! You’re turning… violet, Violet!

..Nope.. post-trauma therapy will be scheduled shortly.