Ever since I got my Bonneville, it’s been plagued by a vibration in the steering wheel at speeds over 65 m.p.h. Running at over 75 m.p.h. was a jarring experience. When the right-front wheel bearing went bad, I thought that perhaps the new one would vanquish the vibration. It was not to be: though the wheel was much quieter, the vibration remained. I thought that the wheels were out of balance, so I had all four dynamically balanced. Did it fix the problem? Unfortunately, no. About the same time, I noticed that one of the front wheel studs was partially broken. I suspected this as the source of the vibration, but did not have (what I thought to be) the correct tools to replace it. And so it stayed.

Today I decided to attack the problem once more. I thought that perhaps one of the wheels was out of round and that rotating the tires would move the vibration, or perhaps even eliminate it. Seeing that Tires Plus had a special for rotations and oil changes, I committed myself. As luck would have it, they stripped one of the wheel studs (!) on the same hub that had the broken stud (They swore they had the clutch set at 80 ft-lbs. Riiiight….). Because of their air wrench faux pas, they offered to replace both faulty wheel studs free of charge. I authorized the work, and soon the work was completed. After checking that each wheel had five lug nuts, that the locking lug key was still present, and that the engine had oil in it, I proceeded to drive briskly along the freeway, northbound.

Let me tell you, it was bliss. Cruising along with traffic at 83 m.p.h., with a buttery-smooth ride, is utopic. I was finally rid of the nasty, steering-wheel jarring, teeth-chattering movement I had parleyed with so long. Doing something so simple and having such a wonderful result is pure ecstasy.

Good news by e-mail came my way this morning: My group scored 100/100 on our Computer Architecture project. Our presentation was “the best of the term.” Man, that feels good.

I got back to the great state of Minnesota on Friday, but not before stopping in a quiet little town called Madison to pick up my friend Paul. In reality, Madison is anything but docile and small: Home to the University of Wisconsin Madison and The Onion, Madison is everything that I wish Terre Haute to be. Who couldn’t like a place where the tallest point in the city is a badger? Just to make sure that everybody knew I was from Minnesota, I wore my Gophers hockey jersey. You see, the Badgers were playing a series with the Gophers in Minneapolis that weekend, and there is a healthy rivalry between the two. Imagine wearing a Team USA hockey jersey in Toronto last Sunday – you get the picture. Some people gave me awkward glances but, fortunately, nobody painted a giant badger on my car. Thing is, I’d bet that most people can’t tell the difference between a badger and a gopher. Perhaps due to my infiltration into hostile Badger Country, the Gophers swept the lesser rodents in the series.

As we were leaving Madison, I noticed a very nice Porsche/BMW dealership along the road, yet another amenity that Terre Haute lacks. If one wants to see Porsches (remember, two syllables!), one must trek over to Indianapolis. Quite a way to go just to see the finest automobiles ever built. Which reminds me… Chris Welty wrote a humorous series of articles entitled “Porsching,” which I highly recommend. Look closely at the URL, and you’ll realize that Vassar isn’t just a Simpsons creation; it’s a real school, with real students like my friend Liz.

Seems that Rose just released Winter Quarter grades on the Registrar’s page. Here’s a live look at my reaction. *sound of me alt-tabbing over to the other window* *sound of me alt-tabbing back to this window* Woohoo! First 4.00 quarter at Rose!

Finals are done, let all rejoice! Wednesday at 10:45 a.m. marked the end of Winter Quarter, notoriously difficult for sophomore EE’s, CPE’s, and ME’s. I think I did fine as far as grades are concerned. More importantly, I feel that I actually learned something, rather than just ingesting knowledge for tests: everything can be described mathematically. This engineering thing won’t be so bad after all…

So it seems that I have abandoned my website. The past few weeks have been incredibly busy thanks primarily to a Computer Architecture project. Fortunately, that’s now finished. If you’re interested in the results, I made a website with all of the pertinent data.

Late Friday night, I went bowling with a group of my Brothers. We knocked down the pins at Vigo Bowl – nice bowling alley, really shady neighborhood. As we were entering, a crazy woman drove by and yelled nonsensical obscentities at us. Minufo responded in kind, but the rest of us hurried inside, not wanting to find out if irate Hautians pack heat. Once inside, we played several games, watched the NHL Super Skills Challenge, and had an overall good time. Upon departure, we trekked to IHOP for some late night cheesecake and shakes. Healthy, no? I’ve still yet to eat pancakes at IHOP. From there we returned to the House, only to find a party going on. (Did I say party? I meant casual gathering. Yeah, that’s it…)

Despite how I feel about drunken parties, this one seemed almost appealing to me. I decided to relax for a few minutes before doing anything else, so I sat down in my desk chair. Big mistake. I didn’t think that I was tired enough to fall asleep in my chair at 1:00 a.m., but reality proved me wrong. The next thing I know, it’s 3:00 a.m., and I’ve just awoken with a jolt when Will, my little bro, walked into the room. I had a strange recollection of Perenic asking me for a ride to IHOP, but it seemed like a hazy dream. Giving such matters no further thought, I brushed my teeth and went to bed.
Later on Saturday, several people commented that I was “completely out of it” Friday night. Curious, I got a first-hand account from my roommate, Minufo. It turns out that Perenic and others had come into my room at about 2:00 a.m. looking for sober people to drive a bunch of drunks to IHOP. Apparently, they tried waking me up. I became semi-concious, stuck in a delerious stupor. I’m told that I mumbled giberish for a while, refused to drive, then agreed to drive, all while maintaining minimal control of my extremities. I even stood up and was about to leave, still rubbing my eyes to vanquish the cataplexy. At this point, Minufo stood up for my best interests and said that I shouldn’t drive anywhere, especially since I had returned from IHOP not two hours prior. The possy left, and I sat down, returning to my blissful slumber.