Corollary to previous post

So I was planning on driving to my interview yesterday because I didn't want to mess with MUNI. Narges told me that, rather than trying to figure out the subway, I could get to AT&T Park (which is right next to where the job is) by just getting off BART at Powell and walking about a mile down 3rd Street. And since there was a huge protest in downtown to mark the fifth anniversary of the start of the Iraq war, I took her sage advice and opted to avoid traffic by taking BART.

While I was in San Francisco my car was parked at the San Leandro BART station, and for the fifth time since I've owned the car, it was broken into. Saturns, apparently, are legendarily easy to get into, so I've taken precautions after the last time to ensure that I don't lose anything important.

The valuable contents of my car, in descending order of value, is as follows:
1 (one) grey UCLA sweatshirt - $25
1 (one) Mag flashlight - aprox $20
1 (one) iPod charger - aprox $15
1 (one) pair of sunglasses I bought at Kirkwood when I went cross-country skiing - $14
1 (one) $10-off coupon for a lift ticket at Sierra - $10
2 (two) Pez dispensers, one each of Darth Vader and Yoda, sans candy - $3
5 (five) quarter-dollars - $1.25
1 (one) "November Rain" cassette single - $3 in 1994, back when one could buy cassette singles

The intruder rustled through my center console and tossed all the old gas receipts and directions to friends' houses on the passenger seat. Two empty sunglass cases in the driver-side door were examined and left on the driver side floor, and the napkins in the glovebox were all askew.

The perp made off with a buck-25 in quarters and that's it (there's a whole thing behind how I know how many quarters were there, I'm not that obsessive compulsive).

Now I'm not saying the B&E is Narges' fault, though interestingly enough it's directly because of her that my car was burgled. If not for her I would have driven to the city, parked my car (for more than $1.25) and driven home without incident.

Of course, if there wasn't a protest, I wouldn't have been warned about the traffic. If there was no war in Iraq, there wouldn't have been a protest. If George W Bush hadn't been elected president in 2000, not only would there be no global warming and more Internets, we wouldn't have gone to war and my car wouldn't have been burgled, leaving one clear source to this chain of events:

The state of Florida owes me five quarters.

It's also possible to say that Juan Ponce de León discovered Florida, and he followed Columbus, who was sent by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, so:

The Kingdom of Spain owes me $1.25. Or if they prefer, they can send me .75 euro.

Indian math

I got a birthday card Monday from Cache Creek, my semi-local Indian casino. This card is more than a month early and it offers me double points when I use my player's card - something I had no plans of ever really using and only signed up for to get the initial free $20 of slot play.

Way to make me feel prematurely old, unwanted Native American birthday card.

Now my friend Sophie, who told me to write a post and recently had a big birthday herself, would tell me I'm being ridiculous because I'm only turning 25. But this birthday firmly places me in the mid twenties and lately, events are occurring that usually seem to happen to adults.

Between Jon fracturing his hip (75-year-old woman), my wanting to watch the John Adams miniseries (55-year-old white man), and my pulled ab muscle coupled with visits to the chiropractor (34-year-old former high school athlete who thinks he can still play like he's 18), there isn't much going on that makes me feel like a kid anymore.

I'm looking for a job, and just interviewed at a place yesterday that, I'm not going to lie, I really want to work for. Andy just got back from his travels around the world yesterday, which means I can't say I have friends out there still traveling, and I just took my grandma to the hospital to have her eye surgeried.

But there was one thing that happened at the end of the night Monday. I found a power ball (which you may refer to as a super ball or bouncy ball if you'd like) in the parking lot of the delightfully alliterative Porky's Pizza Palace. Nick and I bounced it off the floor and ceiling of his kitchen for about 15 minutes while eating pizza.

So clearly I'm not that old at all, am I, Native Americans?