Happy Holidays

I sit among my gifts for the year, like some gluttonous dragon atop its hoard.

I am now the happy owner of a Nook color, as well as the full 2-movie set of Red Cliff, the chemistry drink set from Think Geek, a decadently soft new robe, and a wireless keyboard and mouse. This all is to say nothing of the veritable bonanza that has been generously sent to me through Steam. Dead Rising 2 and Meatboy are particularly interesting, and this "Disciples" thing seems to have some promise as well. I hope to repay such generosity in person next week.

Here's hoping that all of you spent the day making happy memories with your loved ones.

Happy Holidays,

Ben

addendum: The best gift, by far, was a little device which I will nickname "The Theo." It is a keychain with an alarm on it, that I can activate to find my keys when I lose them.

Happy Holidays and stuff

Oh! Hey there! Didn’t think anyone was still around. Don’t mind me, I just came to pick up some stuff- what? You want a post? I dunno, I haven’t really done that sort of thing in a while…

What do you mean don’t be like that? Oh fine, here’s your stupid post:

As those of you perusing that book of faces are already aware, the results of my first CPA exam are in substantially sooner than I had expected them to be, and they are happy results indeed. It is a solidly passing score, and I am now one step closer to my certification. With any luck, I’ll have it finished before September of next year.

I have a new job, which is in fact the same new job I had back in September; it’s more of a lateral move, really, but it means I’ll get to keep working. I’m beginning to look more seriously for new employment, but in the meantime I am maintaining a positive cash flow.

Sadly, that flow will be stemmed somewhat for the month of December, as in addition to my Christmas shopping I got slapped with a speeding ticket last night. An 18-wheeler on my right began to drift into my lane, I got a little freaked out and floored it to get myself out of his blind spot, and just so happened to be passing through an officer’s radar at the time. He didn’t buy enough of that (entirely true) story to tear up the ticket, so now I have to go to traffic court and cough up $200. The ticket was just for $80, but the city of Mission lets you pay some extra fines and have your speeding ticket marked down to a non-moving violation, and the potential hike in insurance premiums makes this the cheaper option in the long run.

Christmas is coming up fast, and I’m happy to say that my shopping is all done for this season. I’ve already begun to receive some of the oh-so-very-kind gifts from my friends in St Louis, for which I’d like to take a moment to say “thank you.” I was really curious about Super Meat Boy, and Burnout has been an “almost-bought-it” of mine for some time now. Happy Holidays to all, and I hope we all get some of our most-wanted this year.

Some more good news: I will definitely be in town for the New Year’s party. I’m still not sure about where I’m staying (hint hint wink wink nudge nudge) but if no other options present themselves, I think a hotel might be in my budget this year.

I’m looking forward to seeing everyone in St Louis again. In the meantime, enjoy the Holidays!

New Job Update

So I've been on my new job for a couple weeks now. All in all, I'd say it's going well. I spend a good portion of my time putting out fires so that people with bigger hats than me can do more important stuff, but I can honestly say that this has been a truly educational experience.

Since I started this job, I have conducted interviews, contributed towards hiring decisions, had a little (more than I'd like) experience with the process of talking to an employee who is not performing and may need to be let go in the near future. I've had the chance to view the workplace environment from another perspective, and on a professional level I think that's going be a valuable thing. It's also nice that when I see inherent flaws in the way we do things, I am occasionally in a position to simply fix them, rather than complaining about it to somebody else.

I think one of the things I like most is that, apparently, I'm very very good at this job. My two bosses keep pulling me aside and telling me what a fantastic job I've been doing, and how much they appreciate all my hard work. I expect it's mostly just ego-stroking to keep morale up, but it's still nice to be praised once in a while.

The job has its drawbacks, however. I freuently feel like a glorified babysitter, running from one employee to the next to fix a computer problem or help them understand an issue. This becomes less of a problem the longer a particular person has been on the job, but with a constant influx of new employees (despite the fact that the job ends in three months, we're still trying to get ourselves fully staffed) there's an equally constant stream of questions to answer and issues to deal with. I often find that I've gone out of my way to draw up a schedule or improve the process, only to find that somewhere further up the chain the entire thing has been redone and the fruits of my labors go straight into a bin. The hours are inconsistent, and more than once I've found myself working until 11 PM one night only to be back at 9 AM the next day. But these are mundane problems that come with the territory, and they are hardly amount to anything more than an annoyance.

All in all, the job has been good to me. It's a step towards what I really want for myself, and I'm glad to have taken it.

The Next Step

,


Ben leveled up!

Responsibilities +4
Authority + 7
Wages + 3
Confidence +6
Status +3
Scheduling Flexibility +10

New job Class! Ben is now:

“Lower Management” class!

As of the 4th of October, I am officially promoted. I am leaving my current department and taking a management position for a new project that Block is starting.

I won’t be running the department or anything fancy like that, but I will have a substantially larger amount of responsibility in my new position. My official title is Team Leader, and I will be directly overseeing one of four teams on the project. I will be responsible for making training and quality assurance, scheduling, part of the department’s budget (i.e. making sure we get the job done but don’t spend too much on wages in the process), and I will have some input/responsibility with regards to the department’s interview and hiring process.

The job comes with a nice pay bump, and I will likely have a much more agreeable schedule going forward. In my old job, every other Friday when we closed the payroll system I would have to pull a 12-14 hour shift and then work a full shift the following Saturday. There will be some weekends on the new project, but it will likely be fewer than half and the uber-long shifts I’ve grown accustomed to will probably not be required. Another nice bonus is that I will no longer have to work on Thanksgiving and Christmas, which was more or less a requirement back in the payroll department.

I was notified about this last week, but until yesterday it was somewhat up in the air whether I’d actually get to take the job, because my current department is chronically short of staff and the boss lady wanted to hold on to me for a couple extra weeks. But after a sit-down with said boss-lady I have an official start date, hence this post.

Unfortunately, the project itself will only last for about four months, after which I will, presumably, be returning to the payroll department. Still, with any luck I’ll have one or two portions of the CPA exam behind me by then, and I can either move up to another position within Block or leverage my enhanced credentials to find better work elsewhere.

In the meantime, however, I'm just going to be happy with where I am now. Things are going well.

New Car Drama

So by now, almost everyone who reads this knows all or a part of the following story. I’d meant to put it up a while back, and just never got around to it.

So way back in July, I’m sitting around my house, doing absolutely nothing of note. After getting back from Europe, I fell into a bit of a rut. It’s that same rut that most of us fell into after graduating college for the first time, especially if we didn’t already have a job in our lives. You wake up, you force yourself to send your resume out to a few job openings, but you don’t actually make the kind of serious effort you know you should. You sleep late, because there’s nowhere you have to be and nothing you have to do at any particular time of the day, and life just doesn’t feel like it used to.

Sooner or later, of course, we have to break out of that funk and rejoin the world. My emergence from said state was supposed to come one morning in late July when my boss from HR Block called me and explained that, after weeks of delays, the background and credit check, newly instituted for all returning employees, had finally come back and I was given the green light to return to work. Happy to finally have an excuse to leave the house, I hopped in my car and started to drive.

About fifteen minutes later, the front left corner of my car was a twisted metal heap, and a very polite lady had a nasty gash down the side of her truck. I had turned right on a red, thinking the way was clear. This was the first time in my life I’d had this kind of experience, but I had a vague idea of what needed to be done. Both our cars were still in drivable condition, so we moved to a parking lot, called the police, and exchanged insurance information.

Now, the precise nature of the accident is still somewhat unclear to me. To my recollection, I had finished my turn and was well into perpendicular street by the time the impact occurred, which would mean that the other driver had to be changing lanes to side swipe me like that. Supporting this version of events is the fact that treadmarks could be found two car lengths beyond the intersection. Also, my front headlight popped forward and out, rather than caving into the car as one might expect from a head-on collision.

The claims adjustor, however, felt that a sideswipe would have caused a different shape of dent on the other car, and felt that my headlight might have been popped out because metal behind it was twisted in the accident, forcing it forward. Long story short, I’m out a car and a $125 ticket.

So I’m driving my busted up car around, not sure how long it’ll keep running. Our mechanic said it was safe to drive for a little while, but that we needed to repair or replace the car soon. The repair job would have involved very expensive body work, and the car has been breaking down on my every couple of months anyway, so it was pretty clear that a new car was the more fiscally sound option. So I start doing some research.

Next thing I know, before I’ve even had a chance to settle on what kind of car I might like to be looking at, I find out that my mom went out looking and got talked into buying a used Honda Accord, year 2004, from a local dealer. The salesman had somehow so convinced her of the need to buy the car immediately that she did not even consult me before making the purchase. She just wrote the guy a check, expecting me to pay her back when I could.

Now, on the one hand, hey new car. I mean, I had a big problem, and supermom just swooped in and solved it for me before I even got my head around just how big a problem it was. On the other hand, now I’m committed to ultimately paying for a car I’ve never even laid eyes on. I don’t for a moment doubt the purity of her intentions, but seriously, boundaries?

As it turns out, the Honda Accord does actually fit me like a glove. I drive it to stl, and it just feels right. It’s only slightly larger than my old Sable, and it has a smaller engine (my old car was a 6 cylinder, this is a 4) but it handles beautifully. Also, I never knew how awesome it would be to have stereo buttons on my steering wheel. I know that sounds like one of the last things you should car about in a multi-thousand dollar investment, but dude, I liked that.

The next chapter in the story almost everyone has already heard. The car gets me to stl just fine, and also gets me to my interview. Then, on the ride home, it gets as far as the end of highway 40 before the engine cuts out. So right there, merging onto I-70, I lose everything. Power steering cuts out, and my speed starts dropping like a stone. What’s worse, I’m still getting used to the car, and I don’t know where the button for the hazard lights are. I flip my turn signals one and off and wave my hands frantically, hoping that anyone behind me will come to the conclusion that I’m having car trouble. Or that I’m insane, but either way they better slow down. I manage to get my car safely to the side of the road.

About an hour or so later, Adam is picking me up from the Honda dealer off highway 40. Ironically, his car is having trouble too, all of the sudden, but it does at least get us back to his place before it starts to crap out. I make the most of my extra time in stl, and by the end of the day the dealer calls me back with new information: there was no oil in the car.

They oil the car up (that sounds dirty…) and I drive it back towards Kansas City. I stop in Kingdom City to check the oil again, and sure enough, it’s already running low. Something is wrong with the engine, and it’s either leaking or burning through the oil at a prodigal rate. I top it off, and drive it the rest of the way home, at which point it once again is running low on oil. The local dealer takes it back, tries to fix it, and determines that the only solution is to completely replace the engine.

I should mention at this point that since I’m working way out in downtown Kansas City and the dealer is near my house in Overland Park, and because I’d just taken a bunch of time off work to go to St Louis, I wasn’t actually able to physically go to the dealer’s lot to handle any of this. It was all done through phone calls, and any in-person interactions had to be done with my parents, who live and work like 5 minutes from the place.

So anyway, just as I’m starting to think “yay, new engine” I get a call from my mom wanting me to leave work early and look at a Toyota Corola. WTF! What happened to a new engine in my Accord? So I get down there, more than a little irate at this point, and then I learn that the engine they wanted to give me was a used one, and they couldn’t even tell us how many miles was on it or how long it had been in service. Another WTF! So my mom has been talking about this Toyota Corola, and we have to choose between it and a much more expensive 2007 Honda Accord. The dealer is offering to let us buy another car off the lot and put the money we’ve already given them towards it, but they haven’t offered anything more, and I need a car sooner than a lawyer will get all this sorted out, even if it did all go in my favor. So I take the deal, and we leave the lot, planning to file all the paperwork the next day.

Over the next 24 hours, however, we pull up the Corola’s specs on the dealer’s website, and find some things that the dealer neglected to mention. In particular, there is no anti-lock breaking system. At this point, abbreviated bastardizations of the English language no longer suffice. What. The. FUCK!

Back to the dealer, and now we have only two options. Select a substantially more expensive 2007 Honda Accord, or go get a lawyer. So the good news is that the third time seems to have been the charm, as my new new new car really is fun to drive and handles well. The bad news, however, is that it cost us a lot more than we were expecting to spend, and we probably got screwed on the price since the dealer knew we didn’t really want to go to a lawyer over this. The salesman himself, at least, seemed to genuinely feel bad, and he agreed to sell us the 3-year, bumper-to-bumper warranty at cost. At least, he said it was cost…

If anything goes wrong with this one, I will write a very nasty letter. And possibly commit murder.

Christianity Evolving?

Mothers of Christian teenagers, beware. According to a new study, it is possible that your child just thinks God wants them to feel good about themselves, and try to be good people.

Aparrently, an "impostor" to proper Christianity has risen up, which the study calls "moralistic therapeutic deism." According to this study, teens across the country say they are Christians, believe they are Christians, but in reality, they "that God simply wanted them to feel good and do good." Scandalous!

The study goes on to complain that teenagers are indifferent and inarticulate about their faith, and that while they seem to believe in God, they don't have a drive to make others do so. Kenda Creasy Dean, author of "Almost Christian," has become a self-appointed crusader to raise awareness about this new horrible threat to our children. She particularly raises concern that teenagers are "inarticulate" about their faith. She raises several other points, which if you want to know more about you can view the CNN article here or perhaps her book, but from what I gleaned after reading the former was that her argument basically boils down to the following statement:

Many teens are practicing a religion that motivates them to be kind, compassionate, and willing to help other people. It has moved them to volunteer their time at various charities, treat others with respect, and generally be more self-aware with regards to their own adherence to a moral code. However, they are losing the dogma and specific rules that really make Christianity what it is. They aren't "witnessing" to spread their faith to others. They're even skipping church! We need to stop the proliferation of this pretender to the throne!

And an article detailing this "threat" made the front page of cnn.com

The good news is that if the study can be believed, this "pretender religion" is actually the dominant form of worship among American teens. If that's true, I think there's hope for this country yet.

Scott Pilgrim and the Seven Deadly Metaphors

So I just got back from seeing Scott Pilgrim, and my sides are still hurting a little. This was honestly the best movie I’ve seen in the last couple of years.

For the unaware, the basic premise of Scott Pilgrim Vs The Word is as follows: Scott Pilgrim is an unemployed hipster living in Canada with his gay roommate who pretty much carries his sorry ass financially. He has recently started dating a Japanese school girl, is in a band that nobody likes or has heard of, and his life is going nowhere. Then he meets Ramona. Ramona is the physical embodiment of nerdy chic. Funky anime style hair that changes colors on a weekly basis, an outfit that captures the aesthetic that Hot Topic was always going for but never quite reached, a general lack of insipidness, and an inexplicable willingness to let Scott mope his way into a date with her. However, now that he is dating her, he must defeat her Seven Evil Exes in a variety of duels to the death.

The movie takes place in a sort of alternate reality, where life regularly imitates video games: people will randomly acquire superpowers, health bars and power-ups are commonplace, and Scott actually acquires visible points as he progresses through the story. Everybody seems to find this perfectly natural; in fact, when the first evil ex is defeated and explodes in a shower of coins, the only shock that Scott Pilgrim exhibits regarding this phenomenon is that it’s not enough to cover his bus fare home. The movie is full of 8-bit sound effects, needlessly intense voiceovers, and enough arcade style lights and noises to… man, I swear I had something for this… well, it’s a lot of lights and noises, OK? Basically, the movie is wrapped in a glossy coat of exactly what its target audience of underdeveloped manchildren want to see: an environment in which the cartoonish preoccupations of our youth are not only accepted but commonplace in adult society, but are now mixed with the kind of mature themes that we weren’t allowed to know about back in those days. In other words, it’s a world where nobody had to grow up, get a job, or actually mature as a person, but still got to move out of their parents’ houses, get girlfriends, and do all that awesome stuff that the big people get to do.

There’s one gigantic twist to all of this, however: the entire core concept of the movie is that people who honestly want to see all that need to grow the fuck up. Just in case this wasn’t glaringly obvious by the constant use of the video-game style boss fights as a metaphor for Scott dealing with his own emotional baggage, the movie literally spells it out for us in big flashing letters more than once. Despite the fact that there’s a lot going on in this movie, they spend the first twenty minutes or so getting you to absolutely despise the main character, so that the next hour and a half can be spent developing him from a hopeless, self-conscious loser into a remotely likable human being.

The video-game aesthetic, while being an absolute blast to watch, in is in fact an extended metaphor for how a lot of the target audience needs to get over themselves and grow up a little. It’s like I went to a strip club, and a gorgeous naked woman stepped out and delivered a truly compelling dissertation on how objectification of women was harmful for my sexual development.

Scott Pilgrim is a movie that works on several different levels. As a simple, mindless comedy, there is more than enough good humor to make it a satisfactory comedy. The fight scenes are surprisingly well-choreographed, so long as the arcade-style aesthetic isn’t a turn-off for you. That aesthetic itself is a hilarious non-sequitor, made all the funnier by the fact that the movie is kind of making fun of your for liking it so readily. But on top of all of that, the movie is telling the story of a shy, emotionally stunted nerd finally getting over his own BS and becoming an adult nerd with a girlfriend. And just to remind the audience that this bit of mockery is all in good fun, he levels up when he does so.

L8er H8ers

With apologies for the headline.

In San Francisco today, Chief US District Judge Vuaghn Walker officially overturned the controversial Proposition 8. For those of you with short attention spans, Prop 8 was the gay marriage ban enacted in California during the 2008 elections.

"Proposition 8 fails to advance any rational basis in singling out gay men and lesbians for denial of a marriage license," Walker wrote in his decision. "Indeed, the evidence shows Proposition 8 does nothing more than enshrine in the California Constitution the notion that opposite-sex couples are superior to same-sex couples.

-excerpt from CNN

The campaign to pass Proposition 8 featured every dirty political trick from rhetoric to outright lies. It was better funded than any political campaign for a social issue in our nation’s history. It was a mar on the reputation for fairness and tolerance that America has prided itself on for generations, and although I am not gay, I am ecstatic to hear of its defeat, however temporary.

Because it is expected that a higher court will rule on this, the matter effectively remains undecided, and so the Judge has ruled that the ban will continue to hold until the appeals process is concluded- a process that may very well wind up in the Supreme Court in the not-too-distant future.

That’s right, there is a strong likelihood that the Supreme Court will be forced to decide whether homosexuality is a protected status under the 14th amendment before our next presidential election.

In other words, depending on how a certain other popular-vote initiative pans out in November, California may be giving rise to two potentially epic Supreme Court issues before Christmas.

And as an interesting aside: in the corner of gay rights during this legislative smackdown is the unlikely tag-team of David Boies and former US Solicitor General Theodore Olson, the lawyers that represented Al Gore and George Bush in the 2002 elections, respectively. The law guy that the Democrats turned to in hopes of winning the presidency and the man that the Republicans turned to for the same are working together on this. It’s like when Lex Luthor teamed up with Superman to fight Darkseid.


But political fanboying aside, today made me happy. It’s a reminder that while we still have an abundance of grossly ignorant, intolerant jackasses in our country, there’s still a strong contingent of sensible people willing to push back. A certain somebody would be very quick to remind me of how ridiculous I sound when I get on my political high horse, but this is one position that I don’t mind looking silly over.

I'm a man. I don't have a "diary." Or a "journal," for that matter.

So I've been back in the US for nearly a month now. I've bought and begun using some prep software for the CPA exam, been sending resumes out to anyone I can think of, and now, after finally just pulling an all-nighter on Saturday and then going to bed at seven PM, I've finally managed to get myself back on a slewing schedule that approximates sanity.

This morning, I woke at nine PM after a very strange dream in which I and The Riddler teamed up to fight an army plastic monsters that were taking over the world. I made breakfast, cleaned myself up, and drove out to my school to pick up a copy of my transcript. You see, you must electronically submit a transcript to apply for government jobs, but UMKC policy explicitly forbids giving electronic copies, because somebody might hack the system and steal one, compromising our precious identities. Given that the copies that they print off are, presumably, also electronically stored, I'm not sure this is an effective deterrent from letting ne'er-do-wells learn my GPA. However, for added security, they won't even mail out an unofficial transcript (all I really needed to apply for a job) so at least there's that. Twits.

The upside to all this is that since I was already here, I headed over to the computer lab to see if I could use their scanner. I learned then that my student account was never deactivated, which means I still have access to the free CPA prep software. It only offers practice multiple choice questions, which (as I learned last year) is insufficient to prepare me for an exam, but the practice questions in my current prep software are somewhat insufficient, so this should balance it out nicely, at least until my access gets changed.

And so now, I am sitting in a coffee shop. Blogging. Figured I'd get a head start on being a yuppie. But while I'm here, something about the blogosphere occurs to me.

The above post contains virtually nothing of interest. I yammer on about government job requirements and some exam software, and give an accounting my last few days, which were fairly uneventful. The only thing in the whole post that anyone is likely to relate to is the bit about schools having retarded policies.

This highlights the obvious counter to the common argument against owning a blog: "why would you want to make your diary/journal public?" The obvious answer being, because in those rare instances in which we do treat our blogs like an actual journal, nobody wastes their time reading it anyway. In reality, they're more like soap boxes than anything. A handful of people eventually peruse teem when they've got nothing better to do, and for that reason we technically have an "audience." This means that we can spend twenty minutes typing up a post in which we bitch about our problems, rant about our political ideals, and proclaim our latest mind-blowing, life-altering epiphany, and feel like people are hanging on our every word. While they still usually exist more for their writers than their audience, journals they are not.

Things I really will actually do once I am a person of means

It will be Andrea’s birthday one week from today. Being penniless and thousands of miles away, I can’t really do much more than wish her a happy birthday. When I am fiscally secure, I will at least visit her on her birthdays.

I will move out of my parents’ home, and into one of my own. This goes without saying, naturally. I love my family, and they really do make every reasonable effort to accommodate, but I hate not providing for myself. As soon as I am able, I will get off of parental welfare and stand on my own.

I will procure a decent wardrobe. As it stands, I no longer fit any of my pants. They’re all too big since I came back from Europe. As I fully intend to keep the weight off (and hopefully lose another ten or twenty pounds over time) I need to replace much of my closet. Frankly, if I do this on my parents’ dime, I’ll remember it every time I open my closet. For the time being: belts.

Save for retirement. My first step once I do have a decent-paying job will be to calculate how much of the paycheck I need to get by, and then determine a percentage of my paychecks to be deducted for a retirement account. This number was in the double-digits when I worked for Charter, and I hope to be able to say that about my next job.

Give to charity. If I was able to afford sending a few dollars to the United Way out of every paycheck when I worked for Convergys, I’ve no excuse not doing it again.

Entertain. What I miss the most about my place in St Louis was that people actually came over. Barbecues, cocktail parties, and even just drunken nights playing some stupid game on the Wii. Living in my parents home, I don’t get much of a chance to play host.

Get a girlfriend. Living with your parents creates a major disadvantage when attempting to woo the opposite sex. Once I have a home, some extra cash, and clothes that fit, I’m going to start dating.

Epi(c)log

Note: I've been experimenting with stream of consciousness posting lately. This is that experiment, taking waaaaaay too far. It's a glimpse into my deeply sleep-deprived mind. Eventually, I will retcon this post into a proper summary, rather than leave it as the overwritten monstrosity it is now.

Also Note: Times in this journal are given using Eastern European Summer Time (EEST), which is eight hours ahead of Central Standard Time used in the the American midwest.

Sunday, June 20th,

7:30 PM, Balcony outside Andrea's apartment.

And so ends a great adventure. I'm sitting on Dre and Carl's deck admiring the weather, while I wait for four AM to roll around so I can climb into a cab. There's a pretty big storm brewing, so the temperature's dropping and the wind is getting strong. Now the rain is starting.

The final days of my vacation have passed more or less without incident. I was hoping for a trip to the museum or perhaps the bazaar, but we're all still exhausted and I've spent too much anyway.

It's well and truly storming now, with large bolts of lightning here and there, some of them awfully close. The door only latches from the inside, so I've got a chair propped against it to keep it from banging open and shut.

I wasn't sure what to expect of Turkey when I first came over here, and a lot of it has surprised me. For example, I think somewhere along the line I started equating the concept of an Islamic country with deserts, third world technology, and rampant crime. From what I've seen so far, some things are different, but by no means is Turkey undeveloped. In fact, we could learn a thing or two from the Turks.

For example, they deliver almost anything, including beer and cigarettes. And when a deliveryman comes to your door, he can run the credit card right then and there; you don't have to give them your credit card number until AFTER they show up with the goods. I wish the chinese restaurants back home could do that!

Wow… That storm is really picking up. I'm glad we stayed in tonight!

Anyway, another thing about this country: the produce. I never truly enjoyed a tomato in my life before coming to this country, but the produce here is so fresh it's like another food altogether.

And then, some of the differences are just weird. Earlier today, for example, I had pizza. With corn. They put corn on their pizza here. Actually tastes alright.

They also have a real thing about smoking. In the US, you get little warning labels on the side of a pack of cigarettes. Here, you get warnings in big bold print that cover half the box, and sometimes a photograph of a dead baby. And on television, no channel may show a character smoking. Its kind of weird when you're watching a movie with all manner of sex and violence, but a little cigarette has to be blurred out.

* * * *
Monday, June 21st


12:30 AM, Andrea's living room

It's half past midnight now, and we just finished another Dr Who marathon and started Bored to Death. One of the characters pulled out a join, and it was covered with a rotating flower. A green one.

Ironic. Cover a green plant with a green plant.

* * * *

3:00 AM, Streets of Ankara

A little after one, we went out for a walk, primarily I could get cab fare from the ATM. We kept walking a little ways after that to get some coffee.

I haven't really explained this yet, but the Turkish are very serious about their coffee. For instance, although we found no less than three all-night coffee shops in about as many city blocks, we were under dressed for two of them.

When we did finally stop, I had my last Turkish meal. I had been meaning to order lamb all month, and here I finally had it, cut in a kabob fashion and served on top of a flat pita with tomato, onion, and rice; it was accompanied by a Lentil soup. Altogether, it was a good last meal. After we finished, I ordered some Turkish coffee. Turkish coffee is an interesting beverage. It is served in a cup the size of a shot glass, like espresso, but with a much greater caffeine content. The grounds are left in the drink, giving it an extraordinarily thick texture. As you near the bottom of the cup, that consistency grows until your drinking more grounds than liquid, so you have to get a feel for when to stop drinking or it feels like drinking sand.

Oddly enough, I really liked Turkish coffee.

Well, it's now ten after three in the morning. Despite the generous caffeine boost, I'm feeling sleepy already, and I've still got a good twenty four hours before I can go to sleep.

* * * *

6:30 AM, en route to Munich Airport

Throughout this trip, I have not once boarded a plain that lacked a screaming child. Not one single plane.

* * * *

9:05 AM, runway in Munich

We've landed. Everyone in the plane hurriedly climbs out of their chairs so they can wait in a big thick line to get their bags and depart the plane. I've done this a few times over by now, so I know there's no point in getting in that line. I'm going to sit right here in this chair and play with my laptop until I have a clear route to the exit. The bus to the terminal won't leave until we're all on board anyway, so why rush?


* * * *


9:47 AM, Munich Airport

Score. I found a power outlet in an out-of-the-way sort of spot, and I actually have the necessary converter. My battery was getting low and may take a while to charge, but I've got lots of time to kill, and I've already been thoroughly disappointed by the prices at the Duty Free.

Duty Free isn't really all that cheap, liquor-wise. I did stare longingly at 20 euro liter of Jameson's before I gave in to the fact that I was trying to drink fine whiskey on a tap water budget.

My flight leaves at eleven fifty local time, which is one hour behind, so I've got almost exactly three hours to fritter away. I could poke around online, but that costs eight euro per hour and I'm just not willing to drop ten bucks to check my email.

This flight will be long, but I'm feeling rather amped at the moment. I've got enough lyra on hand to hook myself up with some caffeine, and with a fully charged laptop I can kill at least half the air time storming Kefka's tower. Toss in a couple of watchable movies and I'll be back in my native land before I know it.

It should take a little less than forty minutes to charge my laptop from here, and then perhaps I'll just wander Munich airport for a little while. This place is huge, and there's lots of window shopping to be had. I've no intention of paying airport prices when my bag is already laden with (more reasonably priced) knick knacks picked up over the past month, but with nothing better to do I may as well browse.


* * * *


10:15 AM, Munich Airport

The good news is that I managed to kill fifteen minutes cleaning the dirt out from under my fingernails. The bad news is that while setting my laptop down to do so, I knocked the power cord loose. It'll be another 30 minutes…


* * * *


10:30 AM, Munich Airport


OWWWWW!!! My leg's asleep! Pins and needles! Pins and needles!


* * * *

12:00 PM, Munich Airport, United Airlines terminal, Gate H 43

My plane departs in just under an hour. When I get to Chicago, I will have been awake for more than thirty-two consecutive hours. I will also have approximately two hours to go through customs, get my checked luggage from the O'Hare baggage claim, see it through customs, recheck it, and then get myself out of the international terminal, into the terminal my connecting flight leaves from (this may require a bus ride) and through security one more time before my plane leaves. Oh, and my boarding pass doesn't tell me what terminal or gate I want to be heading for, and none of the United Airlines staff can either, until I get to Chicago.

My last trip through this airport I only had to walk a few feet to get to my gate. They also checked my luggage all the way through to my destination. In retrospect, if I'd had these troubles on my way in, I might have some clue where I was going and who I need to talk to this time around. This ought to be fun…


* * * *


1:15 PM, On the tarmac in Chicago, waiting to take off


Jubilations! My sleep-deprived brain has apparently botched a little math. I have nearly three hours to navigate O'Hare, generously boosting my chances of success! And the good news doesn't stop there, because my seat has been upgraded again! Economy plus seat, with plenty of leg room, and an aisle seat just 19 rows from the plane's forward exit, which will help me to get off the plane and into customs all the quicker. Especially because the 18 rows in front of me are mostly the sparsely-populated First Class seats.

To make things even better, the in-flight movie selection is very promising! See, just the other day, I was commenting to Andrea that I've never seen a Marilyn Monroe movie. Wouldn't you know it, Some Like it Hot is playing on this flight! Other selections range from might-be-decent to great-but-I've-already-seen-it, so if Alice in Wonderland and Edge of Darkness don't entertain me, I can always switch to Wall-E or How to Train your Dragon halfway through.


* * * *

4:37 PM, 36,000 feet above the Atlantic

Six hours until we land Chicago

So during takeoff, it became apparent that the little screen on the chair in front of me is a filthy liar. We won't be landing with three hours to spare, I'll be landing with less than two.

I forgive the dishonest device, however, because of how very much I'm enjoying the in-flight entertainment. If you've never seen Some Like it Hot, I recommend it. I finally get what everybody saw in Marilyn Monroe. And by "everybody," I mean you, Dre.

The good news is that the entire messy procedure of going through customs, getting my checked luggage, putting it back through customs, etc etc is going to be fairly simple. It's all pretty much in one straight line. I was hoping that would be the case, because I still may have to catch a bus from the international terminal, and I don't know how long that will take.

In the meantime, the channel with Edge of Darkness keeps having sound issues and I don't feel like watching Book of Eli (because you already know how it's going to end when God is one of the principal characters) so I guess I'm going to give Alice in Wonderland a chance to impress me. From the trailers, the movie struck me as pretentious self-indulgence on the part of Tim Burton, but if worst comes to worst I can always divert to Wall-E. I like Wall-E.

Unfortunately, the headphones they gave weren't working. I asked for a second pair, but then those snapped off right in the headphone jack. I worked the plug out of the jack, but I'm not about to ask for a third pair, so I guess I'm stuck with my own ear buds. Damn things chafe my ears…


* * * *

5:11 PM, 36,000 feet above the Atlantic

Meh. The effects are nifty and the acting is good enough not to distract, but so far the flick's just been a series of set pieces that pretty much jump up and shout "Hey! Look at us! We're being surreal and obscure! How awesome is that!?"

Also, Johnny Depp's Mad Hatter seems completely indistinguishable from Johnny Depp's Captain Jack Sparrow.


* * * *

6:27 PM, 36,000 feet above the southern tip of Greenland.

HA! Thought I was gonna say "above the Atlantic" again, didn't you!? I'll bet it didn't occur to you that the plane would climb latitudinally to shorten the longitudinal distance needed to cross the ocean, did it?

We're at the northernmost apex of our flight, which means we're just barely strafing along the shores of Greenland at its southernmost tip. We'll be back out over the Atlantic in a few more minutes.

Alice actually wasn't all that bad. Hardly great, and it certainly didn't obtain all the fruits it reached for, but it's entertaining enough, if you're literally strapped to a chair and have nothing else to watch.

It'll be a half hour or so before the movies cycle back around again, at which point I may or may not watch Book of Eli. There's just a little more than four hours left in the flight, and so far it really hasn't been so bad. The stewardess was kind enough to give me a free bottle of wine, the first half of the flight passed quickly, there's still three movies on tap here that I haven't seen yet (plus two good ones I've not seen in a bit) and my laptop has plenty of juice left.

Heh. The little tike next to me is utterly fascinated with my SNES emulator.

Whelp, movies are cycling again, guess I'll give book of Eli a chance.


* * * *

7:15 PM, 36,000 feet above the Atlantic (again)

It's basically Fallout the Movie.


* * * *

7:46 PM, 36,000 feet above Northeastern Canada

Remember that bit in Boondock Saints where they kind of made it look like God might be personally keeping the main characters alive? How it was kind of left open whether they were just really really lucky or there was some actual divine intervention going on?

Book of Eli doesn't leave it open like that. Takes a lot of the suspense out of the fight scenes.

Anyway, We're almost back over US soil. At this point, I've got just a little under three hours to go on this flight. I'm still feeling pretty awake, all things considered. Chicago's my last stop before Kansas City, and the connecting flight is only a little longer than an hour. Should be a breeze, as long as I can make it through Chicago International in time to catch the plane.


* * * *

833 PM, way up high over somewhere

BOOOOO!!! It was a King James version the whole time!!!!


* * * *

10:08 PM, skies over Michigan

Did you know that 10L08 is the time of day when the most little bars are lit up on a digital clock?

I've got a less than an hour before we land. The stewardesses just served us a snack of chips and candybars. I wasn't terribly hungry, but seeing as I haven't slept in more than thirty hours and I'm about to run the hundred yard sprint through Chicago International, I figured I could use the sugar rush. I also had like my fifth cup of coffee to go with it.

My flight out of Chicago boards in two and a half hours. If I can make it that far without passing out, I'm home free…

We'll be landing in 20 minutes. Time to turn this computer off and get ready to move. Hopefully, this'll all be a lot easier than I've been making it sound.

* * * *

12:23 AM , O'Hare Airport, Domestic Terminal

Getting through customs was an ordeal. The line alone took at least half an hour. And when I get to the very end, a woman actually cut in front of me. She walked up from outside the line, not-so-surreptitiously looked around, and then just ducked under the rope.

"Did you just duck under that rope?"

"Yes I did." She looks up at me all serious, like she's daring me to say something else. So I do.

"Wiiiiiiiithout waiting in line like the rest of us?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow. At this point, she backed off a little bit. "I-I'm just trying to get back to my party." At this, I give her my biggest, friendliest smile.

"Oh, well don't let me get in your way," I insist, as I shoulder my way past her so she can get behind me and look for her friends

She waited until I was through the queue before she continued to just move with the line. I could have said something else, but hey, she didn't get to cut in front of me, so it's no skin off my back.

A couple of forms and official-sounding questions later, I retrieved my checked luggage, rechecked it (which turned out to only involve tossing it in a pile with everyone else's luggage) and went through the second customs counter and into the airport. I hopped a train to my terminal, and arrived twenty minutes before boarding was scheduled to begin. Piece of cake.


* * * *


1:07 AM, On the tarmac in O'Hare

Ha ha! I got upgraded to Economy Plus again! My last 90 minutes will be spent in style!

I've spent the last half hour proofreading this massive stream of consciousness, but given that it's been nearly forty hours since I've slept, I'm not sure how thorough I'm being.

The overhead bins are absolutely packed and I had to squeeze the bag a bit, I hope none of my shinies get damaged.


* * * *


1:38 AM, En route to Kansas City

One hour, twenty-three minutes before I land back in my old hometown. That's much shorter than the last two plane-rides I took. And yet there's still going to be an inflight movie! That's kinda cool.

This is the part of the trip where I should get all pensive and reflect on my journey thus far, but frankly I'm just too fried to be philosophical.

For all that I'm going to miss Carl, Andrea, their country and their cats, the only thing on my mind right now is climbing into bed and passing out. It's been a very long day.

The "in-flight movie," so far, has been a bunch of advertisements. Also, it appears that one of the radio stations tunes me in to the conversation between the cockpit and the tower. We're heading 250 knots, apparently. Actually, it seems to be the tower in general.

Oh, the video is going to be 30 Rock. I've never actually seen that show.

OK, that show is weird…

And they actually just made a 4th wall-breaking joke about people on an airplane being forced to watch bad CBS sitcoms. That seems pretty obscure.


* * * *

2:10 AM, in the sky

This is one of the strangest airplane rides I've ever been on. First, as the train drove around the runway, water vapor was being vented in from the celing. Then they have in-flight video on a one-hour flight. And now, they've passed around a complimentary tin of Altoids.

A complimentary tin of Altoids with a cellophane wrapping that is extremely thick, and nearly impossible to cut through.

And the mints inside are cube shaped.

And now I'm watching some kind of terribly obscure educational video on how fireworks function.


* * * *


5:06 AM, My home in Kansas City

You know what, it feels good to be home. Familiar house, familiar bed, cats that don't claw the shit out of me…

Even just riding up the drive to my house felt good.

I've showered, I've eaten (I couldn't get mom not to cook for me), and I've checked my messages. I've also pulled out some of the more fragile goodies I brought home to make sure nothing was damaged. Pretty soon, I'm going to pass out and hopefully not wake up for a long, long time.

So yeah, that's it. The End. Finito. Ben's Turkish adventure has come and gone. And what an adventure it was. I ate exotic foods, saw crazy places, did amazing things. And I lost twenty pounds!

This has been a singularly unique adventure, the kind you're lucky to have even just once in a lifetime. But really, it's only encouraged me to work hard, so I can have many more like it in the future.

If there's one note that I'd end this whole thing on, it's this: Just fucking do it. Whatever it is that you've always wanted to do but didn't do, or put off doing, because it just wasn't sensible. Don't wait until the right time. Don't tell yourself you'll do it one of these days. Just go and do it.

Because even if it leaves you penniless and destitute, man, you'll have some great stories.

-BS

Travel Journal, Part X

So as mentioned previously, the sojourn to Cappadocia was cancelled, and in its place is a two month old kitten. By way of apology for canceling my last trip, this kitten has woken me up every morning since her arrival by eating my hair, licking my ears, and generally climbing all over me if I seep too late.

All in all, however, I'm glad about this turn of events for two reasons. Firstly, this kitten is seriously adorable.






Secondly, this past week I've become rather sick, and I now find myself grateful that I won't be riding in a car for three hours to climb into a hot air balloon. I'm not dangerously ill, but just sick enough to not really enjoy such a trip. The good news is that Carl got his hands on some penicillin (over the counter for about $6, natch!) and I've been taking two a day for a while now. I've still got a soar throat and a nasty cough, but if I'm lucky it'll pass before I have to get on an airplane again.

Speaking of which, my trip is almost over, and in 24 hours (it is currently four AM) I'll be climbing into a cab and heading to the airport. My flight out of Ankarah is departing at six AM, which means I need to leave the apartment at four. After that I'll spend four hours in the air, another four hours in the Munich airport, and then about nine flying to Chicago. I'll have another two hours in the Chicago airport, and then I'm on the blessedly short ninety minute flight back to Kansas City. It should be about six PM when I get home. If I don't get any sleep on the international flight, I'll be able to get into my house around eight or nine in the evening, and go right to bed. I'm told that jet lag is far less of an issue when traveling West, so hopefully I'll recover just in time to drive out to St Louis for Kurt and Abby's birthday shindig.

HOWEVER, before all that, I've got one more day in Ankara, and I plan to live it the flip up. We're going to head to the Autoturk museum, and revisit the Bazaar and the Ankara castle. I haven't found myself a really good souvenir yet, and it's the end of the trip so I'm feeling retrospective.

Also, if anyone's keeping track, this is the 99th post of my blog. The 100th episode of "Occasionally Witty" will contain the account of my final day my flight home, and a general retrospective of the trip entire. So stay tuned,

Also, since I'll be in two international airports in the next 48 hours: if anyone has any requests from the Duty Free, now's the time.

Travel Journal, Part IX

The three of us woke up sporadically between four and six in the afternoon, and promptly reached the consensus that we were really freaking hungry.

We ordered from a Turkish restaurant that Carl and Dre had been hearing about, called Neli. I ordered Beef Thai Noodles, and then crawled back into bed to await my spicy, beefy goodness.

So I waited. And waited. And then, after about an hour, I got up to see if I'd slept through the delivery. I hadn't, they were apparently just really, really late. About twenty minutes later, the food finally did arrive and we sat down to dine on… well, we're actually still working out what it was we dined on.

My "beef thai noodles" consisted of chicken, a pepper or two, and some noodles that I'm positive were slathered in mayonnaise. Andrea had ordered chicken parmesan,which (while at least containing the meat she ordered) consisted of an very undercooked chicken breast with some parmesan cheese sprinkled on top, and some horribly overcooked rice and vegetables. She also ordered a chocolate brownie for desert, but somehow this restaurant made even chocolate taste bad, and the menu hadn't mentioned that they would stick a few kiwis inside the brownie. Carl's ravioli was at least more or less what ravioli is supposed to be, but the sauce was subpar and his cheesecake suffered from a slight case of nonexistence.

At the insistence of Dre and Carl, I ordered the chicken pudding for my dessert. Eating this was… an experience. It had the texture of paste, but with a slight taste of chicken and a lot of sugar. Andrea's brownie, for some reason, had kiwis hidden inside of it, which completely ruined the already mediocre chocolate flavor. All in all, it was a meal that made me nostalgic for the halcyon days of Robert Childs.

I choked it down anyway, though, because I hadn't eaten for sixteen hours.

The rest of the day was spent on a Dr Who marathon. It was the first season, which I prefer (you never forget your first Doctor) but for some reason the marathon ended after the first episode of the two-part season finale. Dre and I watched The Happy Hooker goes to Washington, and then went to bed.

I had worried that sleeping from nine to four in the afternoon would make it hard to fall asleep, but I dozed straight through until noon, woke up, and went shopping for dinner. While at the mall, we stopped in the pet shop, and found a kitten so cute that Andrea nearly broke down and cried. Unfortunately, we couldn't leave a brand new baby animal home alone all week while we go to Cappadocia.

So the Cappadocia trip was called off on account of kitten. I was looking forward to the cave hotels and a hot air balloon ride, but I have to admit that she is an awfully cute kitten.

There's still another week before my flight home, so I'll definitely squeeze a little more fun out of this trip, but at this point we're winding down. Bodrum wore me out and I have a bit of a head cold besides, so I'm going to spend a day or two resting. I'll probably hit the market one more time, see some museums, and perhaps take another walk out by the castle.

I'm rapidly approaching 100 blog posts, so if I can work this just right, my 100th post will be the conclusion/epilogue to this little sojourn. After I take a little 48 hour nap.

Travel Journal, Part VIII

My last couple of days in Bodrum were mostly more of the same, but fun nonetheless. Dre and I went to the sauna Friday morning, and then went swimming for a little while. That night, we went out to a spanish restaurant in downtown Bodrum. This was one of the greatest meals I've in my life.

The meal began with a complimentary shotglass of sangria, which we sipped casually as we perused the menu. We finally selected steamed mussels in a white wine and tomato sauce. Following that, we had a squid cooked in its own ink, which is easily one of the tastiest foods I've eaten in my life. Around the time we finished the squid, it was starting to rain, so we carried what was left of our meal inside and sipped drinks while we contemplated another order of appetizers. Carl wanted to surprise us by showing up in Bodrum, so it was about that time that he and his friend Monty crashed our little dinner party. We ordered another couple plates of appetizers and a fresh round of drinks, and then hit the bars.

Monty's a bit of a drinker, so by the time we'd finished our drinks, he'd tossed back three martinis and a long island. We figured it was going to be one of those nights, so we caught the bus back to Gumbet to be closer to the resort when we got too tipsy.

Monty had apparently drank a little that morning, and a little more at the airport, and then a little more on the plane, and then a lot at the restaurant, so we ordered a fish bowl in hopes of catching up. We had a little time to sip on it while he went and bought a diamond necklace from an all-night jewelry store. We made a heroic effort, but nothing keeps you sober like somebody twice as drunk, and it wasn't long before we stopped trying. The three of us had only killed about a quarter of the drink by the time Monty came back from the jeweler, five thousand lira poorer and a good bit thirstier. He continued to pack it away while we kept half pace, and the night pretty much ended early with us hauling him back to the hotel.

The next morning, we woke up, tucked into some cheese omelets, and then went back to bed. Andrea and I woke up again a few hours later, and went out for a walk. We had some cappuccino on the terrace by the sea, and then wandered into town. After a while, we had kabobs for lunch, and poked through a couple shops. Carl went out to meet up with us, but unfortunately we had taken the sun screen with him, and he got a little more heat than was healthy during the walk down. I wasn't feeling very well myself, so we went back to the room and cranked the AC for a while.

That night, I went out one last time, but after three straight nights of partying, I was done being crazy. I had one beer, and spent the rest of the time just walking around the city, checking out some of the all-night shops.

I still stayed out and about until well after two in the morning, because I hadn't had a good chance to explore Bodrum proper what with all the happenings and goings on. The stores in this city stay open well after midnight, so got to do a little window shopping (watch my facebook page for a photograph of a very interesting chess set) and sample a little street food.

Our flight was at seven AM, which meant that we had to leave at five. Since we'd woken up well past noon every day all there was no point in trying to fall asleep before the wake up call, so we just stayed awake. Unlike Istanbul and Ankara, the airport in Bodrum was poorly air conditioned and filled with mosquitoes, so it was a very unpleasant wait. As has become our custom, Andrea and I picked a window and aisle seat, in hopes that the middle seat would remain unclaimed and we'd get to spread out. On this occasion, however, a man with particularly unpleasant body odor decided that he wanted to sit in between us instead of in one of the several empty rows of seats. We didn't feel bad about making faces at him as we got out of our seats and relocated to one of the numerous empty rows. I mean, fine, I was up all night and probably a little ripe myself, but I didn't deliberately insert myself between two other people. If you are lonely and want strangers to sit with you, take a shower first. S'all I'm saying.

After an hour or so on the plane, and half that in a cab, we arrived back at the place that has come to feel very much like a second home. I was hungry and needed food, I was smelly and needed a shower, and I was tired and needed to go to bed. Despite my best efforts, the latter ended up being the first priority, and before ten in the morning, I was unconscious.

After four days and nights, I can honestly say that I got all the excitement and entertainment out of Bodrum that I could handle. I certainly wouldn't mind going back some time, but right now I'm honestly looking forward to a couple of days sitting around Andrea's apartment, maybe watching a movie or something.

Travel Journal, Part VII

So I'm in Bodrum now. We're staying at a resort that overlooks the Aegean Sea. At this point in my journey, I have run out of synonymous phrases for "it looks really pretty." But seriously, the scenery here is absolutely amazing. Flowers, trees of all kinds, and the sea, flanked by mountains on either side then stretching out as far as the eye can sea between them.

Carl's company owns the resort, so we're staying all week free of charge. We're also the only people staying this week, so we have the resort's private terrace, pool, and beach all to ourselves. A short walk down the beach, however, and we are surrounded by vacationers. This means that we can sit by ourselves at the beach or pool, hang out at a packed bar, or anything in between, according solely to our whim.

Last night, we went out and partied for a bit, had a few drinks, and chatted up some British girls. I'd only slept a few hours the night before, though, so we called it an early night at 1 AM.

Today, we slept till 9, woke up, had breakfast brought up to the room, ate, went back to bed, and woke up again around two in the afternoon. We sauntered casually through our "morning," sipping cappuccinos on the terrace overlooking the beach. We got a couple shots of vodka and baileys to drop in our cappuccinos from the beach bar, I pulled up a reggae station, and we just chilled for a bit. It was hot out, but we had a spot in the shade and there was a nice breeze coming in from the Aegean.

After we'd finished a couple of cappuccinos each, we got into the pool. Since nobody else was there, I was able to get a few laps in, but we mostly just splashed around and played in the water.

Eventually, we felt like wandering so I left my laptop behind the resort's bar and walked down the beach. Just a little ways down is a nice little bar with hammocks and couches. So I claimed a hammock in the shade, ordered something fruity and alcoholic, and lazed the next few hours away.

When it started to get late, we decided to walk a little further down the beach and start looking for dinner. Nothing looked terribly appetizing, though, so we walked back to the resort and had supper there. Chef made us some excellent tomato soup, followed up with a darn good steak. This was all followed up with a chocolate moulox that made my eyes water a little. We thanked them for the meal, and went back to our room for a few hours to relax before heading out for the night.

Now, I won't exactly say that Bodrum never sleeps, but it doesn't go to bed until at least five AM on the weeknights. Rather than go out early and burn out by one AM, We hung out in the room, relaxing and enjoying some AC until a little after midnight, and then went out, just as the party was getting started. We had't made it very fair down the beach before we found ourselves chatting up a couple of British lasses. Apparently, I have a "gorgeous accent."

The ladies accompanied us as we strode down the beach, looking for a proper party. There were a few little parties beachside, but nothing more impressive than a Friday night at the SAE house, so we kept walking until we got to Gombet. We found a bar that was nice and packed, but not so crowded that we couldn't sit. We found ourselves a nice cushy place to sit, and started ordering drinks. I danced (poorly) a little, but mostly sat, drank, and chatted. After a while, the Brits (who had been out for a while already) had to go, but wanted us to meet them at that same bar tomorrow night. We acknowledged, sat for a while longer, and then moved on.

Our next stop was another dance bar, but it wasn't really as nice as the first one. As we left, the doorman begged me to say, and promised to make me any drink in the house for only five lira. This was pretty reasonable, so I meandered back in and received the worst Long Island Iced Tea I've ever had in my life. It was nice and cheap, though, so I took it and nursed it for a half hour or so while Dre danced on the bar.

After that, we took ourselves a little walk to kill some time and work off the liquor. We stopped for water at a bar called No Name, then took a stroll down by the beach. We sat and admired the sea at nighttime for a bit, stopped for a brief chat with some Irish girls, and then headed back up towards the bar, for our evening's finale. At half past three, a bar called Tropicana throws a foam party. This is what we had been waiting for, and it was absolutely worth it.

This wasn't like the foam parties most of us had been to, they did this one up right. The foam machine was a massive device rigged to the ceiling, raining suds all over the dance floor. It piled three feet high at certain points, and they piled more on whenever it got to low. Shirts were removed, bubbles were tossed, and people slipped and slid on the floor. It was a magnificent mess. It got in our eyes pretty badly until I had the bright idea to fetch a few napkins from the bar and stash them on a dry corner of the speakers. After about half an hour, the foam ceased to flow, and we packed up our soggy belongings and, laughing all the way, began staggering down the beach, back to the resort.

Tomorrow night, Carl and Monty (one of Carl's coworkers) are coming out to join us. Before that, we're going to hit the shops and see the castle, and probably have a nice dinner before they arrive, then go out and club hop with them.

Tomorrow being Friday night, it should be the big party. We haven't decided whether we're meeting up with the Brits again, but one way or another we plan to head back into Bodrum proper to really check out the club scene. As I've found myself saying a lot in this journal, it should be fun.

UPDATE: check my Facebook page for fabulous pictures, proving that I'm not making all of this up! Also, watch this space for a video soon!

Travel Journal VI

Today, we took the train into the Sultanamet section of Istanbul. We had brunch at a café, where I feasted upon calamari stuffed with garlic sauce. The Turkish really like their garlic, and I can’t say I blame them. This was served with rice, sliced tomatoes, salad, and French fries with mayonnaise. As an eater, I am a pretty easy to please, but I will never get used to mayonnaise on my fries. Pass the ketchup, please.

After we finished eating, the midday prayer had passed and we were able to get into the Blue Mosque. The place is a cavernous Muslim church, one of the most important and magnificently built in the world. It’s almost like the equivalent of the Sistine chapel. The artwork and architecture was amazing, and once again I’ll let the pictures (which I really truly swear are coming!) do most of the talking. Before entering, I had to wrap a Suran about my waist, because I had worn shorts. Andrea was required to cover her head with a scarf. Several tourists ignored this request and went in as they pleased, but I really didn’t feel like insulting people on their own holy ground.

After that, we went to the Hagia Sofia. This place was a Christian cathedral before the Ottoman Empire took over, at which point it was converted to a Mosque, and it was this venue that was used to crown the new Ottoman emperors. It was subsequently converted into a museum, and today it stands as an odd mishmash of Arabic and Christian symbols. Paintings of the Virgin Mary and Michael the Archangel are intermixed with Arabic symbols, all amidst. It was an immense building of stone and marble, scaffoldings, workers, and other evidence of the reconstruction. It had a high arched ceiling, like a traditional cathedral, and the workers had restored a winding stone ramp leading to the second floor, which at present is a miniature collection of paintings and pictures of the site.

Our next stop was the Cistern, which was basically a huge, cavernous underground structure used to hold and distribute water throughout the city in the days before modern plumbing. A foot or two of water is still collected below the bridges, and enormous fish swim around it. A series of pillars hold up the massive ceiling, and a collection of red lamps sit at the base of each, lending the room a very creepy atmosphere. At the far end, a statue of Medusa, cut into a cube and placed upside down, supports a pillar.

Our final stop before returning to the flat for some downtime was the Grand Bazaar, which was like a really gigantic, indoor version of the bazaar I described from Ankara. Antique stores, clothing/purse vendors hawking knockoffs of name brand goods, tobacco shops, and merchants of every kind filled the massive plaza, far too many to count. All day long, people had been harassing us, asking if we’d like to come up the street and buy a carpet (apparently we “look like potential carpet buyers”) but here it was far worse. One merchant even swore that he would give his wares away for free. The shopkeeps have a lot of competition, and so the only the most aggressive can stay in business. If you are a person who easily feels pressured by others, you’ll be talked out of your every last dime here in no time. Another interesting thing is that in a Turksih bazaar, there are no price tags. This is because haggling is the standard. You are expected to ask the merchant for a price (or suggest your own if you are feeling adventurous) and then attempt to talk them down. Andrea and I managed to tag team a jewelry merchant (because wait, I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen my mother wear black earrings, maybe I should just put these back) down more than ten percent on a pair of earrings and a necklace. After wandering for a while, Carl suggested that we head back for some rest before going out for the evening. Within thirty seconds of this, like magic, Andrea had led us outside of the bazaar and onto a side street that led to a main road. Even this area was littered with grocers, toy shops, and, oddly enough, a LOT of gun stores. Although police and security forces walk brazenly about with automatic weaponry, I was under the impression that personal fire arms were illegal here, but on this street I saw three gun stores in as many minutes. One of them proudly displayed a massive rifle, complete with scope and tripod. All of them sported an orange sticker that said “fend for yourself.” Even here, none of the goods had a price tag. Lacking the permit that I assume was required, I decided not wasting a heavily armed shopkeep’s time.

We had planned to take the ferry across the Bosphorous to the Asian side of the city, but it started raining after we returned to the hotel, so we just hung out. Carl’s company keeps a very nice flat, with a deck that overlooks a small garden and a pool. We sat on the deck, sipped beer and vodka, and admired the view. When it got late and the rain still hadn’t stopped, we went inside to play Turkish monopoly, at which I have no skill whatsoever.

Afterwards, I relaxed in the Jacuzzi in my bathroom (I said it was a nice flat) for a while, and then went to bed. Tomorrow afternoon, Dre and I bid farewell to Carl and catch a flight back to Ankara. We’ll only be staying for a night this time- just long enough to do laundry and pack for our trip to Bodrum, which will last five days. We may even hop a boat over to Greece for a day.

Best. Vacation. Ever.

Travel Journal V

Our planeride to Istanbul was blessedly short, not quite lasting an hour after takeoff. From there, an extraordinarily bumpy bus ride brought us to the terminal. Lacking a window seat on the plane (it was taken by the very smelly Turk in a business suit) this was my first chance to really catch a glimpse of Istanbul.

Not to dog on the place, but for a traveler unfamiliar with large cities, it instantly feels crowded and stuffed. Istanbul has more than 12 million residents, and that number swells during tourist season. The cab ride to Carl’s office took substantially longer than the plane ride, and traffic on the highways is at such a standstill that vendors can walk along the road peddling drinks. This congestion continues through the night and into the wee hours of the morning; Istanbul never sleeps. Also, and this was a problem in Ankara as well, the air quality is oppressively poor. Turkey lacks the emissions regulation common in the US, so the smog can get pretty bad. It’s not so awful as to ruin your day, but at its worst it can irritate your eyes and it smells pretty foul.

Despite, or perhaps because of all these things, however, Istanbul feels like a living, breathing creature for all this activity. The enormous crowds, constant traffic, and ever visible evidence of industry lend the city a vibrant quality. It hustles and bustles with millions of human beings, whose combined activity, more than anything else, make Istanbul what it is.

We took a cab down to Taksim square, and walked through a gigantic version of the alleyway bazaar I described from Ankara. This was an evening in an entertainment district, however, so most of the open shops were restaurants and clubs, or street vendors peddling souvenirs and local cuisine.

The main event of the evening, without a doubt, was dinner. Carl and his coworkers took me to my first real Turkish restaurant. The city compensates for its massive population by building upwards, so actually getting to the restaurant involved climbing several flights of stairs to reach the small landing where we ate. A small Turkish band played us some dinner music, and we tucked into a massive assortment of appetizers. The band would play loudly right in your ear until tipped, but otherwise provided good background music; one player had a specially extended clarinet to reach people at the far end of the table.

The food included a kind of very sour yogurt, melon salsa, bread, a block of hummus (with a texture like tofu), pickled peppers, various cheeses, seaweed salid with garlic, and dulma, which is basically rice and spices wrapped in grape leaves. It was very similar to greek food, but apparently you don't want to say that to a Turk. We also had a rather stiff liquor called Raki, which, when mixed with water, had an appearance and flavor that was indistinguishable from Absinthe. Later that evening, I had some excellent muscles and kokaroch, which is basically intestines and heart and miscellaneous leftover body parts processed into a kind of mush. The latter wasn't exactly delicious, but it was pretty cheap. The muscles were also served fried in a sandwhich in garlic sauce, but I preferred the straight.

As you walk around Taksim, various peddlers will sell little festive objects, like helicopters with LEDs, glowing demon horn hats, and light-up halos. Near the end of our walk, we encountered a man with a small makeshift table,atop which sat a rabbit with two babies. The gentleman informed us that this was a fortune telling rabbit, and for three lira he would read all our fortunes. We gave it a try, and the man held a small board with a series of papers on it, and the rabbit would pick a piece of paper off the board, and drop it down for us to pick up. According to this clairvoyant carrot-muncher, I have been hesitating on moving forward in my life and I need to take the next step. Smart bunny. It also seemed to be telling Carl that, while googletranslate is an impressive bit of technology, it can only be trusted so far.

Shortly after this display, Some police came driving up the road. The man hastily crammed the rabbit back into a shelf under the table, folded it up, and took off down the street at a verifiable sprint. We think that perhaps the rabbit was hot.

We walked around for a bit more, took some pictures, and then caught a cab ride home.

Next time on Ben's Travel log: bazaars, mosques, and Turkish gunshops.

Travel Journal, Part IV

Today, I visited a bazaar in Ankarah. Unlike America, where shopping centers are generally arranged in either a straight line or a circular pattern, this was simply a series of almost labyrinthine side streets, with shops and streetside vendors plying all manner of wares.

The streets are oppressively small, and cramped with salesmen and shoppers. Our cab driver heroically ferried us as far into the bazar as this car would fit, and from there we hoofed it through the alleys. I have no idea how he planned to get the vehicle out of there, but I hope the tip we gave him makes up for the time he lost.

Showing uncharacteristic restraint, I refrained from spending a single coin (although I was quite tempted by a decorative three-barrelled flintlock pistol) until we reached our ultimate destination: the remnants of an old Turkish castle. On the stone path up to the ancient structure, a veritable army of elderly turkish women were aggressively selling handmade jewelry. Most of their jewelry was of reasonable quality, and cost less than one American dollar, so I couldn't resist buying a necklace for myself, a Nazar (a sort of good luck charm popular in Turkey and Greece), a painted wood jewelry case, and an necklace of purple stones, which will most likely end up in my mother's possession. All of these combined cost me five lira (1 lira = about 65 cents) so I think I did alright. Andrea bought a purse for 7 lira, and I still may return for that flintlock, but all in all we made it out of there without losing much cash.

Once we'd made it past the shopkeeps, we entered Ankara Castle. Very little was left of it, such that there really was no "inside" to the place. It consisted of a small circular dais with stairs leading to the ramparts, which I immediately decided I would climb with no regard for personal safety. What was left of the tower is the highest point in the city, and nearly the entirety of Ankarah is visible once you have completed your ascent. Rather than attempt to describe this view in words, I will let the pictures (which I swear are coming) tell most of the tale.

After climbing up and down and around the remnants of Ankarah Castle, we descended, walked about the bazaar for a bit longer, and then caught a cab to an Italian restaurant for lunch.

After lunch, we visited a mall. The interesting thing (to me, anyway) about the malls here is that they are arranged in a double ring pattern. The inside ring is almost exactly the same as your typical mall, with storefronts at the edges of the ring and escalators in the middle. The outside ring, obviously, is outside the inner ring. Most stores connected to the inner ring have a back exit leading to the outer ring, where a second series of storefronts is located. Side stairs are also available on this ring, as well as alleys leading back to the inner ring. There were three floors, and above that another three floors' worth of stores could be seen through windows, but were accessible only from the outside. Most of these seemed to be offices and the like, but I saw a tattoo parlor and a few other shops among them.

We took another walk through a shopping street, poking through the occasional side alley for more window shopping, but no other purchases were made.

Tomorrow, we get on a plane to Istanbul. It looks to be a very busy weekend, followed by a very busy week in Bodrum.

Burn Baby Burn (not really a full journal entry)

Interesting aside about Turkish movie stores. Firstly, it costs less to buy a movie in Turkey than it does to rent one in the US. The tradeoff, however, is that the quality is usually a little on the poor side. In most cases, it's barely noticeable unless you're looking for it, but some movies will have obviously poor audio or the occasional skip. The second major difference is that they don't actually sell the real thing. You go through the offerings, bring them to the storeowner, and he (or she) proceeds to burn you a copy of the movie right there on the spot. It's really no different than finding an illegal copy on the internet, and as far as I know not a dime goes to the actual moviemakers (copyright laws are nonexistent in this country) but it is kind of convenient to be able to buy 7 movies for less than $15. They even sell movies that are still playing in theaters.

Travel Journal, Part III

Yesterday, we walked through a park in Ankarah. We ate at a cafe that had throw pillows and hammocks instead of chairs, then took a walk. I took a few pictures.

We stopped for ice cream about halfway through, and I must say that Turkish ice cream is… chewy. It's not really chewy like gum, and it's not really chewy like a candy bar, it's just, well, chewy. Chewy and delicious.

After the park, we went to an open air market, but by then it was getting late, and most of the vendors had closed up shop. We caught a cab back home, hung out until it got dark, and then went to a carnival. European amusement parks generally have little or no admission cost (this one cost less than a quarter to get into) but charge a fee for every ride or attraction. This means that the more fun you have, the more it costs, but i also means that even on a saturday night you never spend more than a few minutes waiting in line.

Andrea is downright tired of Turkish food lately, and the first week consisted mostly of American food, which they have a lot of here, so these last couple of days were my first experience with Turkish quinine. It consist largely of kebabs, which are very similar to a spit roast. What they do is take a gigantic block of meat, and set it up on a rotating stick, then rotate it in front of a heat lamp. This cooks it at first, then keeps it hot until served afterwards. They slice bits of it right off the stake when you order your food. It's very tasty, and I'm surprised we don't see much of it stateside.

Next weekend, I head to Istanbul, the 4th largest city in the world. With the exception of a day trip to Chicago (on which I didn't really get to see much) I've never actually been in a major city like that, much less a foreign one. Should be interesting.

Travel Journal, Part II

Truly, Amsterdam is an amazing city. We spent two full days plus an evening and a morning exploring the city, and I had a fantastic time.

On our first full day, we spent over ten hours just walking about the city. We saw Vondelpaark, some positively stunning architecture, and more canals than you could shake a stick at. The city is over seven centuries old, and displays architecture from several periods. As you walk from one block to the other, the coloration and style of the buildings vary dramatically. One moment, we were walking past an old Gothic cathedral, all spires and stone slabs, and in the next, we were crossing a cobblestone bridge overlooking a collection of houseboats. In the moment after that, it was rows of brick and mortar apartment complexes. There are also examples of Rennaisance era construction, and because the city loves its history everything is diligently maintained. The canals were also very scenic, especially at sunrise.

The city's layout is something akin to a giant spiderweb of minor roads and canals, and one can easily lose themselves in the maze of alleys and sidestreets. Getting lost was really half the fun, however, so that kind of played in our favor. The city has cars, rickshaws, trains, and boats traveling this way and that, but the favored mode of transportation is the bicycle. Bikers have their own lanes on all the major streets, and they can fit into the small side passages that cars have difficulty navigating. After a while, the city started to feel like a giant bike park.

In Dam Square, near the center of the city, are the living statues. Darth Vader, Batman, that stretchy face dude from Scream, and other recognizable (and sometimes not so recognizable) figures are on display throughout the large plaza. The performers will spend most of their time standing perfectly still, giving the impression that they are indeed lifeless statues. However, if you try to take their picture without tossing a few coins in their jar, they always move at just the wrong moment. I was frustrated by this for quite some time before I even realized they were doing it on purpose. After that, I tried for a little longer, but no matter how far away I stood they always managed to thwart me. It was a little surreal. Eventually, I gave in and parted with a few euros, at which point they enthusiastically posed for a shot. Money well spent, in my opinion.

The culture in Amsterdam is a very laid-back one, and the locals are, for the most part, welcoming and friendly. If you stare at your map for too long, an overly helpful native will try and offer you directions. Presumably, Amsterdam has a criminal element like any other major city, but I felt free to wander the city at five in the morning, and didn't wind up regretting it.

We had been expecting very cold weather, but the sun was out pretty much the whole time, and the weather was simply splendid. The whole trip was a success. Unfortunately, we were so exhausted the second day we were so tired from hiking about that we never made it to the museums we'd planned on seeing, but I had a fine time of it all the same. Besides, if I ever go back, I know there's plenty more to do.

Travel Journal, Part I

OK, so that last post was the result of a combination of sleep deprivation, a childlike sense of wonder that somehow survived past the age of 22, and the kind of supreme boredom that only occurs on a nine hour plane ride.

It is currently 1037 AM here in Turkey, and I haven't slept yet. If you ever plan on flying to a country where the time changes by a third of a day, be prepared for as much as an entire week of a completely backwards internal clock. You'd think that one night of staying up late and waking up at a reasonable hour would do the trick. It doesn't.

We're getting up at 6-ish on Monday morning, to fly to Amsterdam, so even if I achieve a decent sleep rhythm between now and then, it's likely to be completely effed up by the crazy early wake up call.

Still, I'm looking forward to the trip. Amsterdam has a lot of really cool things, I hear. Like museums, gardens, and the world's oldest stock-exchange. Should be fun, I'll take pictures.

Ankarah is a gorgeous city. It's dirty and old and smelly, like a lot of American cities, but in a kind of charming way. The city is in a ridiculously hilly region, so walking around can be a bit tricky. If you walk a couple of blocks on one street, you've reached a whole other elevation, which means you can only transfer to the parallel street by walking a few blocks more so that you're at the same level. This makes finding your way around a bit more difficult, but it allows for some truly breathtaking views.

Also, drivers over here be crazy. The dotted lines denoting the various lanes on the road are interpreted by the locals more as helpful suggestions than actual rules. traffic flow seems to resemble a crowd elbowing and maneuvering for position. Cab rides are truly an adventure.

Unfortunately, my first week overseas is turning out to be quite uneventful. The first few days I was so out of it from the timeshift that it's a miracle I was able to stand up straight. The last couple of days we've stayed in, slept at odd hours, and watched movies. I'd worry that I'm squandering a rare opportunity to immerse myself in a foreign culture, but I'm going to Amsterdam in two days.

Not much else to say for the time being. I'll post more when I get back from the 'Dam.

Travel Journal Prologue: Chasing the Sunrise

Back home, it's 11:20 AM. Right now, I'm hurtling eastward in a gigantic metal box, at a speed which I can't properly comprehend. I have a window seat, and I'm watching the sun rise over the cloudline. It is surreal. Above, it is still dark enough that the stars are out. As I cast my gaze down towards the cloud, the black tapestry shifts rapidly into a brilliant shade of blue, which in turn gives way to a thin line of orange sunlight. Below that, the clouds still shut out all light. Every few seconds, I realize that these brighter shades have gained a little more ground against the darkness above but against the inky blackness beneath, it will gain not an inch until the sun itself has risen above the clouds. It's like seeing a bizarre rainbow up close. I'm flying into the sunset

It is 1140 now, and the last star is vanishing from my sight. The clouds below remain an impenetrable darkness. I'm waiting for the moment when the sun itself climbs over the edge of the vapor horizon and turns the darkness to a blinding, fluffy white. The line of fire at the cloudline has become much thinner, as the blue sky of day settles in.

1143. The clouds below are turning a very dark blue. You can just barely see their shape if you look close. Every second, their color grows lighter and their shape more definite. Bits of white are appearing at the peaks. Welcome to your life just came on the radio. I've been on an 80's kick at the moment.

1147. The last of the fireline is poking white spikes into the blue sky. Now the plane is turning. By the time the wing recedes, so have these white heralds. The fire is all but faded completely now, but a cap of dark blue still hangs overhead, if you look high enough.

1150. Some of the clouds have become the shade of a dark water. Bits are darker than others, and it reminds of the Missouri River when I'm driving at night. I have to remind myself that I'm tens of thousands of feet in the air to convince myself I'm not looking at a river.

1153. Save for a few scant traces out by the wing, the orange and red colors have faded. The cloudtops have become much more clear, but the remaining traces of darkness continue to obscure any definite shapes. I've still got two hours and forty nine minutes before I reach Munich. I'll get to watch the whole thing.

1156. The clouds are taking shape. The sun itself remains hidden. It may not be visible through my window. Shame. Still pretty.

1158. It is morning now. The sun has more light to shine upon the world, but the clouds are a visible ocean of vapor.

Midnight. The fellow next to me is trying to sleep. I'll steal a few final glances, and then spare him the harsh light. And the window is shut. Damned pretty thing.

1204. OK, that was the last one, now I'll let him sleep.

This was a triumph...

So the grades are in. Three B’s and an A. This was a shock to me, because in one of my classes I was actually afraid I might get a D. I guess I did better on that final than I realized. That, or the prof was feeling exceptionally generous. Either way, it’s over. I officially am done with graduate school. I am the Master. I can fly through time matching wits with the Doctor.

I've written numerous times that this has been a long, hard road, and I'll refrain from further expunging upon that here. Instead, let me simply say:

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I GRADUATED!!! I AM BRILLIANT!!!!! I AM A GENIUS!!!! I AM AN ACADEMIC JUGGERNAUT!!!!! IT'S OVER AND I NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER ANOTHER SEMESTER OF SCHOOL AGAIN!!!!! WAHOOOOOOOOOOO!

*ahem* Excuse me.

Now, I was planning on jumping straight into the job hunt, but a certain… opportunity has come my way that I can’t really bring myself to pass up. Andrea Wimberly, in conference with her fine and upstanding husband, has decided to give me a little graduation present. They’re flying me to Europe for half the summer.

A small, responsible part of me thinks it would be wiser to stay stateside and focus on the job hunt, but seeing as this will probably be the last time until I retire that I find myself with the time and opportunity to just traipse around Europe for weeks at a time, I’ve decided to take them up on their generous offer. Life will be waiting for me when I get back. On June 22nd.

So, basically, I'll see you guys in a month and a half, I'm off to freaking Europe.

Andrea and Carl, you guys rock. I hope someday I can repay the favor.

Variations on a Zombie Apocalypse

So I've started getting into the L4D mod scene. The one thing I've never liked about Left 4 Dead is that the game, its sequel, and all of its expansions have come out during a time when I've been too busy with work or school to play them. Obviously, I get to them eventually, but by that time everyone I play with already knows where to go, what to do, and has usually worked out some level of strategy.

It's really not possible to experience a map "for the first time" when you've got a guide with you to warn you about all the panic events, direct you to the choke points, and advise you about all the new weapons. Likewise, it's not really practical for everyone else in the group to remain absolutely silent with regards to such advice and strategy, as that's a significant part of the fun. It's like saying "let's all play together, but no talking about the game."

However, between the game's popularity and the devtools that Valve has made a part of their business model from day one, there is a relatively steady stream of user-generated content out there, which means that there's almost always something to do in L4D that I haven't done yet.

Granted, there's a lot of less-than-fantastic mods out there, because, hey, everybody who makes one had to make one for the first time. But if you can sift your way through the mediocrity there is a rather large number of real gems. Here, I'm going to post a brief review of three of them.

A little while back, Dave and I (barely) survived the Night Terror mod for L4D1. The basic story is that you are a child having a nightmare, and the level design and artistic style (a very large number of new textures and models were created) just goes nuts with the concept. The first level has you trapped in Disney World's Haunted Mansion, and as I played through it I recognized several of the rooms. After that, you go through nightmarish re-imaginings of Lord of the Rings, Evil Dead, and even The Adventures of Tintin. What was really fascinating about this was that each level made minimal use of the textures and scenery that we see in the original game. The Aztec temple, the theme park paintings, and the psychedelic skyline are all custom made, and done pretty darned well for a game you don't have to pay for. The haunted mansion has you riding an excruciatingly slow roller coaster during a panic event, the Aztec temple has deadly traps and pitfalls, and... well I'll just let you discover the Lord of the Rings bit for yourself. In the end, I think I enjoyed it a lot more than Dave, because I recognized each and every set piece, which added a fantastic nostalgic flavor to it. Also, the size and frequency of the hordes is significantly amped up, and the Director is somewhat stingy with the supplies. You'd be amazed how different the gameplay becomes when you're forced to ration your ammo.

Silent Hill, another blast from the past that will go right over the heads of those who unfamiliar with the source material, is an obvious labor of love. Easily twice the length of any of the primary campaigns, the haunting hamlet of Silent Hill is faithfully recreated for your playing pleasure, right down to the ashes falling from the sky. A dramatic departure from the L4D that most players are used to, this mod has a heavy emphasis on exploration. Each map has a series items to find and puzzles to solve. None of them are terribly difficult (though some of the solutions are pretty obscure if you never played the game) but since the hordes don't exactly wait politely while you work them out, there is still a bit of a challenge involved. The atmosphere is extremely well done, and the game is aggressively stingy with equipment drops. In the style of classic survival horror, anything better than a pistol is treated as a "reserve" weapon, best conserved for the most difficult fights. The game has some very tense moments and a fantastic atmosphere. The finale, however, was an enormous let-down in my opinion.

No Space 4 Zombies lists itself as only 65% complete, which baffles me because it’s playable from start to finish with very little in the way of bugs. I did find a tank punching me from behind a wall one time, and there was an elevator sequence in which our characters did this weird bunny hop thing, but other than that the level design is solid, the finale is innovative, the panic events are well placed, and textures are well-designed.

While core campaigns are still solid and well-designed in a way that most custom made maps aren’t, the mod community provides an endless supply of newness to Left 4 Dead, and I recommend you all join us.

Mods we plan to play soon:

Dead City 2
Mobstadium
Dead Aboard 2
Dead on Time 2