The LandPhil

Some dude just backed into my car. At a stop sign. He just threw it in reverse and ran into my ass.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Last week Tano asked me if I was interested in going to kenpo with him. The instructor that he was taking classes from in Pasadena had moved to a studio in Diamond Bar, so Tano wanted to start up again. He invited me to come with him. So, last night we drove out to the studio and attended.

It was in the back of a little industrial park. The kenpo studio was behind a hula dancing studio. So, the entire night there was hula music and drumming. Not exactly conducive at some points, but I actually didn’t notice it most of the time. There were three of us that were there for the class. Myself (a newb, no belt), Tano (orange belt), and some other guy who’s name I did not get (green belt.) Turns out the third guy used to work as a security guard at Caltech. Small world.

It was a lot of fun. It didn’t seem like I did a lot of work, but I was sweating pretty good by the end of it. I learned 3 (of the 10 yellow belt) techniques, the first blocking set, we went through all the punchs and kicks (and boy did my hips hurt after that. We didn’t even do that many!), and a whole bunch of footwork. Clearly that will be the hard part. Learning the moves for the techniques was not particularly difficult, but moving my feet presented problems.

We’ll be going Mondays and Wednesdays for sure, possibly on Fridays too. Definitely something to look forward to at the end of the day.

I have an ant problem in my apartment. I’m sure that, initially, it was my fault. I let the dishes gather in my sink too long, and a few days later I noticed that I had little friends roaming the towers of dishes. They were coming in under the front door. So, I cleaned up my dishes, killed all the ants I could see, and kept things clean for a couple of weeks. I thought I was free and clear.

Then one day I noticed that I had a line of ants come out from under my counter, across the floor to my pantry and up the side. I opened the cupboard and couldn’t find where they were going. I killed all the ones I could see.

Some time later I decided I wanted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, so I grabbed the peanut butter out of the cupboard. It had ants on the outside of it. I opened it up, and it had ants inside of it too!! So, I killed all the ants again, fished the few out of the jar, and made myself a sandwich. I put the peanut butter in the refrigerator.

The next morning I got up and checked the “route” that I had squashed the night before: it was clear. Wooho, little fuckers. So I took another step into my kitchen and noticed minute movement. There was another, new line of ants traveling from under my dishwasher across the entire kitchen, and up the other side of the pantry. I was livid.

I went through my cupboard trying to figure out what the ants were in. Apparently, ants like Cheerios! So, pissed off, I called the apartment manager. She informed me that everyone had ants and that she’d send the handyman out to spray. I don’t think he ever came out as my ant problem didn’t appear to have been culled by the end of the day, and there was no indication (like the signed work ticket) that they’d even been in the apartment. Unfortunately, it was Friday, and I had weekend plans.

Last night I returned home with Grant’s Ant Stakes (courtesy of my mother). I placed one by the dishwasher and one by the pantry cupboard. This morning, I saw at least half a dozen ants running around on them. No noticeable declination of ant population, but I’m hopeful that they’re on their way out.

We’ll see.

I am now the proud owner of one of these:

198 of 750.

And, in case you live under a rock: The original comic

So, I just got back to my computer. On it was an ICQ message from Tano. It’s quite a story.

Apparently, some dumb ass couldn’t get through the front gate to our complex. They tried the keypad, but it didn’t work. So, what do they do instead? They ram the gate with their car and force the gate open. It’s broken now.

The punchline: The apartment manager was in her car behind them. She wrote down their license plate and the make and model of the car and called the police.

Justice is served.

So, we just got this sent to us via one of the all-campus mailing lists. It is a crime bulletin put out by the campus police department. What I quote below is an excerpt:

Upon arrival, our officer contacted a 20 year old male UCR student who had been was punched in the face by a known male suspect, who had fled after the attack. The victim suffered injuries to his face and mouth, and was treated at the scene by Fire Department paramedics. He was later transported to the hospital by a friend.

The suspect is believed to be an off-campus neighbor of the victim, a 24 year old UCR student, with whom the victim has had on-going problems and arguments with.

Anyone with information regarding this incident should please call our Investigations Bureau at

I’m tempted to call them up.

“Yeah, about the crime bulletin you just posted. I know this guy, he lives next to this other guy. They fight all the time. Are they the same people? No, I don’t know their names.”

Last week, I received a phone call at work:

“Systems, this is Phil.”

“I’m looking for Phillip Cheetham.”

“Speaking.”

“Hi Phillip, my name is <something> and I’m calling in regards to your Mastercard account with Direct Merchant’s Bank. It shows here …that …you …have already paid your bill. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“I do what I can. Have a nice day.”

I’ve been informed that someone I know, nay, someone I would call a friend doesn’t like the television show Firefly.

I must say that I’m very, very disappointed.

Perhaps one day, in the future, when my wounds have had time to heal, we’ll be able to get past this horrible slight. Perhaps…

Probably not, though.

So, there I was, driving to work yesterday morning on the dirt road behind my apartment. I take the dirt road because it’s much faster than taking city streets. I was driving down this dirt road and I came upon the last turn before it intersects with the regular city street that runs into campus. As I passed the nice yellow “suggestion” sign that said 25mph, I turned the corner a little wide.

This is a right turn. My backend started sliding out to the left. I compensated (overly, as it turns out) and then started spinning the other way. I bounced my car off the left side of the road and skidded to a halt facing the wrong way. I had my window cracked, so I got a car full of dust.

After making a mental check of myself (most of my momentum was lost in the spin, not in the impact, and what was lost in the impact was lessened by the loose dirt and slight incline of the side of the road), I tried to start my engine again since it had stalled. It didn’t start.

Swearing at myself, I hopped out of the car, popped the hood and gave the whole thing a once over. Externally, I’d pretty much demolished my passanger side front bumper. And by demolished, I mean that I’d clearly broken all of it’s screw mounts and snap ins, but it was still more or less attached and kind of sagged a bit. I also popped the right front wheel well cover out. Internally, the car appeared to be ok. I had some dirt on my intercooler, but I brushed that off. No leaking fluids and no sounds of escaping gas. I closed the hood, got back in the car, and started it right up. (The ECU probably went into fail safe mode and just needed to reset.)

I drove it to work and spent the day there. When I left that evening, I checked again to see if anything was leaking from my car. There wasn’t. So I got on the road and headed home (to Pasadena.)

About 5 miles outside of Riverside I heard (and felt) a loud bump. I wondered what it was, but the car didn’t drive any differently, so I kept going. About 2 miles after that, some dude drove up next to me and started waving and yelling and pointing at my tires. So I slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. I got out to discover that the large bump that I had felt and heard was in fact my right *rear* tire blowing out. Fun times!

I changed my tire on the side of the road.

The drive home was slow, but I got there in one piece. Later that evening, my dad and I finished moving the rest of the large things out of my apartment. It is now empty, save for a few cleaning supplies. As luck would have it, though, I managed to smash something against my leg while I was carrying things. My cell phone was in my pocket. The external display is now broken.

This morning, I got up and took my car in to Vince to have him give it a once over and make sure everything was fine before I had the bumper replaced. I figured, I’d just pay the $1000 for the new bumper since technically I’d already been paid for it way back when when I got in my first fender bender. Vince had other ideas, though, as once he got it up on the jack he discovered that I’d broken a radiator mount. That required the front end be removed to fix and would get pricy in labor costs. So, he recommended that I get my insurance company involved.

I have a claim number. I am only liable for $500. Yay, collision insurance. Boo being an idiot.

So, today I left my apartment at 7:30 am. I got to work at 8:33 am. Yesterday, I left my apartment at 7:00 am. I got to work at 8:27 am. Monday, I was running late and didn’t leave my apartment until 8:00 am. I got to work at 8:45 am. I have tried in the past to leave before 7:00 am. I still get to work between 8:15 and 8:30 am.

There is clearly a trend here where at some point in the morning, I can leave my apartment and get to work instantaneously. My goal is to find that time.