I was just writing a giant Ride For Roswell post, and it got deleted when I accidentally bumped the "back" button on my mouse. I'm kind of depressed now– half an hour's writing gone.

I'll rewrite it later, I guess. I don't have time now, class is coming up.

Posted by: Boviate at 04:44 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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First the US advances to the knockout rounds in the World Cup after a thrilling extra-time goal. Then there's an earthquake. It felt just like ones I've experienced in Japan and California, but I wasn't expecting one in New York!

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My girlfriend has talked about her cousins that live just two doors down from her house. (They watch each other's houses when they go on vacation, etc.) But I'd not met the cousins, as they happened to never be at home when we stopped by.

Yesterday, after an evening bike ride in glorious weather along with River Walk, they were home, so we dropped in. Having heard that cousins were living there, I had been visualizing a couple like any of my many married cousins.

The two living there had celebrated their wedding anniversary a few weeks earlier. Specifically, their sixty-second anniversary. They had married a few years after the end of the War to End All Wars, Mark II.

Their courtship story was cute, too. He has lived his entire life in North Tonawanda, excepting a few years when, as a young man, he went to Italky as a package delivery man, distributing 75mm and 240mm packages at very high speeds. After the war, he lived in a place across the street from a local grocery store owned by a spinster. The spinster's niece came from Ohio to visit for a week in summer, and he decided this was a good thing. He moved fast enough to secure permission to write her letters once she went back home, then saved money to make an occasional long-distance telephone call (very expensive!) and took a couple of train trips out to visit. It was so romantic I felt inadequite. Then, his first cousin married his sister-in-law not long after.

So, to clarify, he's actually the first cousin of my GF's grandfather. That makes them first cousins twice removed.

I think they felt they were being bad hosts, as the gentleman kept offering me beer or whiskey, but all I took was water. First, I don't drink very much alcohol. Second, I was dehydrated from a bike ride on a hot day, and alcohol would have probably laid me out. Still, I always feel bad about turning down the hospitality of kindly folks.

Posted by: Boviate at 12:36 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I'm not the best-looking dude, so I like to impress the ladies with my skills. That includes cooking. I just cooked what was perhaps the most impressive meal of my life. Sadly, the lady I intended to share it with, collapsed with a migraine about twenty minutes before it was ready. I guess she can have it microwaved, tomorrow. I just had my share, and it was glorious. Reheated, it'll only be excellent. *sigh*

Menu, for those that care:

Posted by: Boviate at 10:34 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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The Super Bowl is famously the most expensive venue for television ads. These two ads run for three minutes each, making them prohibitavly expensive for American Football. But they are made for the real football, which has a conveniently long halftime, just right for long ads.

And these two are both brilliant bits of filmmaking.

Write the Future:

Take it to the Next Level:

Posted by: Boviate at 10:30 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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It's a classic thing one finds in not-very-good science fiction dramas and stories: some poor bastard gets exposed to hard vacuum, and explodes.

2001: A Space Odyssey showed it a bit more accuratly.

And at least once, a NASA space suit tester was exposed to vacuum, and lived to tell the tale.

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I'm visiting family for Memorial Day. How exciting, yes? I could march in the town parade, but I think I'd rather watch.

The weather has been very hot recently, so doing home-improvement stuff on my mother's place this weekend is not exactly an enticing idea. I guess I'll do it anyway, though.

Also, I got the first two books for my summer class, so I've got to start reading. The Haitian Revolution, what a cheerful subject.

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I have been declared officially a bachelor, which is strange, because I thought I already was one.

Yes, on Sunday, May 9th, 2010, the Regents of the University of New York at Buffalo, with the advice and concent of the faculty, conferred upon me the degree of Bachelor of Arts.

I intend to continue with my education, and have accepted enrollment in the Master's program here at UB. My acceptance is for the fall, but I talked the departmental secretary into forcing me into the one graduate-level class offered over the summer. May as well get started, I figure.

I celebrated my graduation with the company of family and friends, with the guest of honor being my grandmother, who endured a very unpleasant flight to get here. We all trooped off to the departmental ceremony on Saturday. The formal graduation itself was on Sunday, but I chose to skip that, as I couldn't get enough tickets for everyone. Also, I wasn't interested in a three-hour affair that didn't have any speakers I wanted to hear.

Instead of the formal graduation on Sunday, we celebrated Mother's Day at my apartment. Attending were my mother, grandmother, father, and uncle and aunt Frank and Pat. We met to decide what to see in Buffalo, but with lousy weather, we just spent all day around my table, conversing.

My grandmother has surely had many Mother's Day dinnners. I suspect this was the first one that consisted of delivery pizza. In my defense, I ordered from the best pizzaria in the area.

So thank you to all that attended, and my apologies to the others that I could not invite. I'm sure I'll be seeing just about all my relatives at this summer's two weddings, and as to my friends, we'll surely hang out sometime.

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Fall semester schedule arranged. Doing History [i.e. theory and practice of historiography], Early Modern Europe Core, American Core, History of the Book. I may drop one, as that's one more class than full-time, and it would be a mistake to overcommit and fall behind.

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Today was the last day of classes for my undergraduate career. I also turned in paperwork confirming that I will be attending the Graduate Department of History at UB in the fall.

The secretary reminded me to send nice letters to the other schools that accepted me; I've not done that yet, so I think I'll write them now.

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