eateggs.com

I just realized that, on January 27th, this blog had its 6th birthday!

Just for fun, here’s the archives from January, 2003 (I was a Junior in high school):
http://www.eateggs.com/archives/2003#January

It might prove to be a great irony if my History capstone course turns out to be the low point in my career as a student in the MSU history department. Not my performance–but rather, the worst class I’ve taken.

Last week, my classmate Whitney had to physically restrain me from clawing my eyes out.

This week, I resorted to 6th grade tactics. For two-and-a-half dragging hours, I bored holes into my desk using a dull protractor. And my teeth.

Next week … perhaps illegal hallucinogenic drugs might be just the thing.

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Nice day, today. High in the upper forties. Think it breached fifty, yesterday. Warm and sunny … and it puts me in quite a mood. Let me tell you. Not. A. Happy. Camper. No sir.

It’s been weeks since we’ve had snow. And what’s left is all just … melting away.

I’ve hardly felt the urge to use my ski pass. Groomed runs and icy bowls just don’t quite do it for me like they used to (back in the days when I didn’t know there was such a thing as powder … and when there weren’t any green runs down the bowls, so I didn’t want to ski them anyway).

I’M SICK AND TIRED OF SUNSHINE! GOD DAMNIT! SUN, SUN, GO AWAY! COME AGAIN ANOTHER DAY! (See: Summer. It’s not your time yet. Don’t be so impatient!)

And the days are getting longer. Which is weird … because I don’t remember them ever getting short. And it’s a little weird, yes, that I’m disappointed that the days are getting longer. Normally I’m excited. It’s just that … I don’t feel like Winter has really come yet?

…

Well, now that you ask, I have been thinking of moving to Alaska. For a while now. Hrm…

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Speaking of which … not really, but… there seems to be a problem with staying logged in on my site. I should really fix that but … sorting through pages of poorly written PHP to troubleshoot an intermittent error … sounds only slightly more scintillating than skiing down sheets of ice.

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And, logging in is important. But first, a funny story about that…

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So, a week ago, Chris and I went out to this fancy Italian restaurant called Ferarro’s for the first time. Everyone knows that their food is overpriced, and not very good, but we went anyway–willing, by this point, to pay quite a premium to try a new restaurant.

And … expecting a mediocre dining experience, we were thoroughly disappointed. It was, without a doubt, the worst dining experience I’ve had in Bozeman.

So I got home, and created a Yelp! account (I have the app on my iPhone, and decided that it’s useful), and ragged on Ferraro’s. You can read the review on Yelp! here.

That’s not interesting. What’s interesting is that, a few days later, I received a phone call from the manager of Ferraro’s–Mike Something.

This was strange for two reasons.

First, his manner was strange. He told me that he’d noticed I’d posted a review online, and that Ferraro’s had “clearly dropped the ball.” He wanted to invite me down to the restaurant to try Ferraro’s again. But really, seems to me, what he really wanted was to coerce me into changing me review.

He mentioned something about bad reviews being bad for business… and mentioned twice that “we’ve been here fifteen years! We must be doing something right!”

The second weird thing is that … he called me. At 10:00 am. On my cell phone.

It’s weird because my cell phone number (which is new, by the by) isn’t available on Yelp! or Menuism, where I posted reviews. I can only assume that he saw my user name (markegge), Googled for Mark Egge, found my blog, and gave me a call.

Hrm.

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Yup. Well, I’ve gone on too long already. More, another day!

Today was my Dad’s 60th birthday. That’s a little weird… I mean, my Dad’s 60, right? You wouldn’t know it though–he’s busy right now training for his next marathon and next summer’s backpacking trip in the Wind River Range.

The Academy Award nominations were announced yesterday… And, as another blogger phased it, Batman’s pissed. Huh. I expect that Heath Ledger will get Best Supporting Actor… And that Milk will pick up a bunch of awards. I mean… it was a solid movie, but, more than that, it’s the sort of movie that the Academy likes to play up. Same reason why Brokeback Mountain picked up so many awards. I see strong Best Picture potential in Milk.

Well, I’ve tried it now… and can safely say that trying to post from my iPhone is just plain obnoxious. The little tap “keyboard” is sufficient for 160 character SMS messages… but certainly nothing meaningful. When it comes to typing, the Blackberry has a clear advantage, it would seem.

Well, enough. I need to be up at 4:30 am tomorrow to go ski with the dam. Yay for having a season pass and starting ski days at 2:00 pm!

A Montana state representative from Missoula has introduced a bill (HB 68) that would remove the requirement that bicyclists come to a full and complete stop at stop signs–making Montana communities more bike friendly.

Newwest.net has the full scoop, here

If you’re a Montana cyclist, please contact your representative and ask him/her to support House Bill 68.

Go to http://leg.mt.gov/css/find%20a%20legislator.asp to find your legislator, and go to http://leg.mt.gov/css/Sessions/61st/roster.asp?HouseID=1&SessionID=94 to get his/her email address.

The email I sent to JP Pomnichowski (D – HD 63) is included below:

Representative Pomnichowski,

Hello! My name is Mark Egge, and I’m an MSU student, living in your district.

I’m writing to encourage you to support House Bill 68, introduced by Rep. Robin Hamilton, which would allow bicyclists to treat stop signs like yield signs (at present, cyclists are, like their car counterparts, required to come to a complete stop at every stop sign).

I must admit, I was surprised to learn that, in Montana, bicyclists are required to stop at stop signs–something I learned one night, my freshmen year, while biking from campus to Safeway. The officer was unsympathetic, and seemingly unmoved by my incredulity that I had just been pulled over on a bicycle for riding through a stop sign at an empty intersection.

I wasn’t excited about the $135 fine I was instructed to pay, but the moving violation on my DMV record was the real rub.

In any case. All personal feelings aside, it seems only sensible that cyclists be allowed to roll through stop signs. First, cyclists like myself are constantly on the lookout for other traffic. When I bike, I never assume that a driver sees me, unless we make eye contact. Second, stopping at stop signs on a bike is a real pain–especially on a road bike with clips, instead of pedals.

At MSU, I study economics. Economists like to think of traffic signals as institutions that assign property rights–specifically, who has the right to be in an intersection at a given time. If there’s an accident, it’s easy to figure out who’s at fault–that is, who committed the property-rights violation–and, assuming insurance and the like, the other party can be made whole. But with a bicyclist, there’s really no question of defending property rights and making the other person whole. The cyclist is always going to look out for his/her own safety and protection. This suggests that stop signs are likely not necessary in the case of bicyclists.

I’m sorry to ramble on. Please support HB 68, which will make it easier to bike, facilitating fitter, greener, less congested Montana communities.

Thank you for your consideration and your service,
-Mark

With any luck, by the time I’m healed up enough to ride my bike again … I won’t have to come to a complete stop at every stop sign!

So … I’ve made it to the end of another semester. Yet another semester?

It snowed today. Snowed inches and inches … doing its damnedest to suffuse Bozeman in a while blanket of peace and quiet. A Christmas miracle, really–every time it snows, it’s a Christmas miracle. But it wasn’t! We pushed it off! We, with our cars, trucks, Suburbans … we braved the cold. We ran our heaters, our windshield wipers. Off! Off damned white blanket! Off, damned white redemption!

Bombarded by the heavens, we retreated to the safety and comfort of the things that bring us solace–that define our lifestyle, as Americans. We flooded into Barnes and Noble. We trampled the snow at Northern Lights and Hastings and Target and Wal-Mart with our Hummer H2’s, our Honda Civics–smashed it down! Crushed it, and rushed inside, to find solace in the storm with our compatriots. Our compatriots in the aisles … at the check-stands.

…

That’s not what I want to write, at all…

Sparknotes: Fuck Christmas.

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No, what I meant to write was …

I turned on the fireplace, and settled in with a movie … the snow blissfully falling outside, obscuring in a soft haze Pete’s Hill, the mountains beyond. Inches and inches of fresh, falling snow.

But I didn’t want to settle down to a movie … no. I didn’t want to be inside… Thoughts alighted on something passed … passed, but still I wished for someone to go outside with and make sure Pete’s Hill was still there, just obscured behind a white blanket. Someone to make sure gravity still has its pull–that snow still cushions those who fall and tumble in it… that it still muffles cries of amusement, of surprise…

I’m not comfortable with these thoughts.

(Edit: Gee, that sounds really dramatic … and mysterious. Is he pining for a lost lover? Is he just being melodramatic? Is he high?)

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Gomez sings, I stopped trying to write the things I’d like / and I started going back to where I’d been before … She said I don’t blame you / I’d do the same / Opportunity knock knock knocks / Open the door. / But I think she saw through it / I see through myself / another chance gone / won’t get many more…

The lyrics are completely unrelated … but they resonate.

…

Three-point-seven-five. For the semester. One “B”, one “A-“, a few “A”s and a “Pass”.

Strangely … I’m proud of that “B”. I’m prouder than I’ve ever been of a grade before. Why? … Perhaps it’s because … it’s the first grade I think I’ve ever worked for. I’m more proud of that “B” than any “A” from this semester–or the last, or …

I feel like saying something trite. Something like: “I’d rather work for a B than skate through to an A.” That’s trite, right?

…

huh. Time to clean the house. I leave for Cheyenne tomorrow–roads (snow) willing. I mean … fuck that snow-white-happy-redemption bullshit. I have to travel tomorrow. I have to shop. I have to … live my life in defiance of the natural world. That’s my birthright, as an America. The right to live my life in defiance of the world. (Insert vapid and superficial political rant, here.)

Joyous exaltations!

No–not about Christmas (I still, decidedly, don’t like the holiday!)–but about my back.

I started with a new physical therapist (Dr. Milica Livesay, if anyone in Bozeman needs a good one) about a month ago. Though I’ve come to dread the two hours we spend with each other every week, I’ve seen a dramatic and marked improvement in my level of comfort and range of motion.

The week before I injured myself, I touched my toes for the first time in years–requiring a 90+ degree range of motion (from the hips). When I started with Milica, I had about a 5 degree range (forward). I’m up to about 15 degrees–which doesn’t seem like much, but to me … it’s a Christmas miracle!

And I’m a LOT more comfortable. As evidenced by the fact that I can sit and “drum”, playing Rock Band, for several hours at a time.

Huzzah!

You know you’ve been playing Rock Band too long when you look around and the room is scrolling up. At first, at the end of a song, I thought that the screen itself was scrolling up … but then I realized the curtains were moving up, too, and my computer monitor…

That probably doesn’t make any sense to anyone who hasn’t played Rock Band (or Guitar Hero) for too long.

Oh well.

I’m getting steadily better at the drums. Well, except for that whole “rhythm” thing. … maybe in real life you do, but you definitely don’t need “rhythm” to play the drums in Rock Band. Psh.

I feel like I’m starting to get old …

I went to a black-tie wine and cheese party last night. Well–that’s nothing new: there’s been “wine and cheese” house parties since I was a freshman where people get completely sloshed in Franzia playing “wine” pong.

But last night … it’s like we took ourselves seriously. People brought a good selection of wines, some interesting and tasty cheeses. Everyone was dressed nicely, but … comfortably?

What was really weird, though, is that it was just a quiet social evening with twenty or so friends–a Christmas tree, the excited but subdued chatter of friends. No one got “smashed.” No one was drunk and rowdy. No one passed out. No one’s face was decorated with a permanent marker.

I’ll be the first to admit–it was nice to see some people I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was nice to have a quiet evening, do some catching up over a few glasses of nice-by-college-standards wine.

But at the same time, I’m a little worried. Does that mean that I’m getting old when I go to parties where, not only do the cops not show up, but no one makes a scene, no furniture gets burned, and everyone clearly remembers the night?

Well, fortunately, I’ll be headed to Cheyenne, soon. That’s sure to make me feel young again!

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In other news, it’s warmed to a balmy five degrees (F) below zero–up from a brisk nineteen degrees below when I went out this morning.

It’s been snowing off and on for over a week now–and the daily high temperatures have only peaked above zero (F) twice.

What I don’t understand is … why am I going to Cheyenne for Christmas … and not my sister’s place in Arizona?

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My cellphone died a week and a half ago. Aside from some sympathy for those who are unable to get hold of me (no cellphone, no landline), I must admit: it’s rather nice without it.

Alas–I’ll be replacing the phone some time next week.

Finally, in the last week of this semester, I’m … finished with all my lingering projects from last semester!

Let’s review:

My Motorbike! Huzzah!

(My motorbike, on a ride up Bridger Canyon, this October. 24 Oct 2008)

This project actually dates back to last July. For those who don’t know, I bought the bike on ebay from a dealership in El Paso, and proceeded to drive it back to Bozeman. And … I actually made all the way to Main Street before the cylinder head blew up, and I had to get towed home. (Thanks, Kimbree!)

By the end of August, I’d rebuilt the head. Everything back together, I managed to go about five miles, before it died, and I again had to get towed back home.

Eight months later, I isolated and replaced the broken carburetor boot, and was running again. Or … kind of. The bike was also literally spewing motor oil out of the top of the head.

So, another four months later, I finally figured out that I was missing a couple o-rings, tore the head apart, installed new seals, put everything back together and … lo and behold, everything worked! Just in time for things to get cold!

… Unfortunately, it’s rather on the brink again, after I dropped it on some ice a few weeks ago and broke my shifter off.

My Loft! Huzzah!
(My loft, newly installed in my bedroom. 5 Nov 2008.)

Some time last spring, I decided what I needed to help get out of my bed in the mornings was a loft. So … I went to my local lumber store, bought some wood, and set to work … planing, sanding, staining and varnishing.

Needless to say, I never actually finished my loft at the old house. But, a month ago, I installed a loft in my current room. It’s cave-like and … wonderful. Mmm.

My Hist 505 final paper. Huzzah!
Wallace Comparative Review

After six months, I’ve finally finished my last paper for my History 505 class from last spring. Good heavens … I don’t understand what it was such a monumental project but … alas. It’s done, now!

My Econ 480 final paper. Huzzah!
A Coasian Analysis of Noise Pollution at Montana State University

Despite having, possibly, the lamest title I’ve ever given a paper, I’m quite proud of what I’ve put together.

The paper, written for an Econ seminar with Prof. Rob Fleck (last spring…), applies the Coase Theorem to the case of noise pollution emitted by my wonderful (ack…) university, Montana State University.

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And so … approaching finals week of Fall 2008, I’m finally done with all of the lingering projects from Spring 2008.

Best, though, is that I’m also basically caught up on assignments from this semester. Which means … Christmas break is going to be nice.

As a last wonderful note, I’m starting to see some considerable improvement with my back. I’m seeing a new physical therapist (Dr. Milica Livesay), who–though it hurts!–is doing wonders. I’ve gained more motion and comfort in the last two weeks than the two months prior.

Whoo! Here’s to a good ski season!

Willing my car onto the “Limited Access – Pickups Only” road not too far from my house, I make a pilgrimage tonight to an old, familiar place. It’s bitter cold and–out on the prairie–utterly dark, save for the stars. A thin dusting of snow covers the ground, hiding rocks and ruts. Still, here and there, resilient tufts of prairie grass rear their wind-blown, winter-stripped stalks of heads above the snow.

The view of Cheyenne is much as it always was–flat, sprawling, city of lights–twinkling, by some effect of the wind, in the distance. The view is largely unchanged, but for two things–the monstrous new Walmart distribution center to the south … and two spinning beacons of hope and future prosperity to the east. Watching the lights of Cheyenne shimmer and blink, it was as though the lights are obscured by a hundred unseen wind turbines, blocking, revealing, and pulsing the terrestrial stars as they spin.

And spin they would. Tonight–as ever–a strong, frigid wind rushes over the half-buried prairie grasses and frozen, rolling hills.

Unseen by me, Venus and Jupiter align tonight in the cosmos. Perhaps we’ve had it all wrong to bank our fortunes on the stars–perhaps its the planets that we need.

It’s been a challenging season. Certainly, the economy could use the help of a few lucky stars … but that’s cold and distant–as out of my hands hanging the Big Dipper, or aligning Orion’s belt.

In the southern sky, I glimpse a shooting star. I would have, should have made a wish. A wish for a friend, here, who’s heard distant wedding bells chime … and turn to the angry cacophony of crumbling time, dedication, and aspirations … turned to the heaped and smoldering ruins of something not meant to be.

… I would have, should have made a wish. A wish for a friend, in his own barren expanse, whose only wish this season might be for his chemotherapy to be effective and swiftly passed … the most urgent of holiday wishes for all his friends and family. Get well soon. Get well. Get well…

Ah. Cheyenne.

Feeling sleep tug gently at my eyelids, I power my headlights, illuminating the night. I return to the road–treacherous and winding, cut into the rugged prairie sod for a vehicle tougher and bigger than mine.

Willing myself to it, I press the gas and ply the wheel–as the airy strings of Venus, Bringer of Peace drive me on. My car scrapes the ground, grinds rocks, slides in and out of ruts. I tell myself I can always stop–give up–back all the way out, if the going gets too rough.

But, with foolish tenacity–and the knowledge that it’s been done before–I motor on, reaching, in time, fence, gate, and the highway beyond.

Good lord. I haven’t posted in so long that my own blog logged me out. My own blog! Hrm…

Well, it’s been a busy few weeks. In the wake of the election … all of the work that piled up while obsessively reading every election blog and Sarah Palin news tidbit worked its way around, found my derriere, and chomped with a tremendous and painful ferocity.

In the last four days? … Four exams, one paper, one 401 (see: the graduate class that’s fairly working my butt off…) problem set.

I don’t think I’ve really “bombed” an examine before (I mean… at least in high school calculus, there was Hannah Hagstrom to help me out (thanks, Hannah!)). But today, at 11:00 am (actually, more like 11:10 am, because I was late from finishing my last exam), I opened up and pawed through my five page Money and Banking exam, and realized … I didn’t know the answer to a SINGLE question on the exam.

No worries though–the class takes the best two out of three exams … and I did pretty well on the first two. Basically, the incentive structure was this: study a LOT and have a chance of improving grade slightly. Study NONE and grade (a marginal “A”) stays the same. Any other week, I might actually have studied.

Now, I’m blogging on my floor, on my paralytic’s mat. Actually, it’s a Thermarest, and I’m not at all paralyzed–though my back seems to have regressed this week. But I like thinking about that wonderful Bible story where some dude had his friends take him, on his paralytic’s mat, to a place where Jesus dazzling the crowds, dig a hole in the roof, and lower him down on wires. I’ll probably get along just fine without JC but … if anyone happens to find him speaking somewhere (where tha’ party at?!) and wants to blow a hole in the roof and lower me down on wires … I’d be down. Just sayin’…

Actually, I love this story. I’ll post it!

One day as he was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law, who had come from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem, were sitting there. And the power of the Lord was present for him to heal the sick. Some men came carrying a paralytic on a mat and tried to take him into the house to lay him before Jesus. When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus.

When Jesus saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.”

The Pharisees and the teachers of the law began thinking to themselves, “Who is this fellow who speaks blasphemy? Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

Jesus knew what they were thinking and asked, “Why are you thinking these things in your hearts? Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins….” He said to the paralyzed man, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.” Immediately he stood up in front of them, took what he had been lying on and went home praising God. Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe and said, “We have seen remarkable things today.”
(Luke 4:17-26)

Sagar, I’m sorry I haven’t been better about keeping touch. I guess that goes for everyone, though. Family … I’m sorry!

Oh! In the interest of getting a absolutely stunning-spectacular score on the GRE, I’ve been beefing up on my vocab as of late (I’m sure you can tell … er, …). My favorite new word is the interobang. Interobang?! I really need to incorporate more interobangs into my sentences?!

Well, it’s November 21st … and it finally snowed. Wednesday, it was 67 degrees (F … Sagar, not C!). Last night, it snowed (at long last!). But November 21st means Thanksgiving, right? Apparently… Christina has decided that it’s time for Thankgiving. While I’ve been reading about the Microsoft Antitrust case (which … as much as I want to, I can’t convince myself that the DOJ actually had a case against Microsoft … warming my bones by the natural gas fire…), Christina has been commanding an army of sous chefs (namely, Lindsey, Bovard and Matt…) cooking up a storm. Apauruvent (which is the misspelled french word for “apparently”), it’s time. Mmm!

Well, that’s all for now. (Vegetarian) Thanksgiving dinner time! Huzzah!