Ever since my server issues in mid-December, I have been reluctant to post to my blog. I kept telling myself that I would recode my photoblog before making any posts in my regular blog. With the end nowhere in sight for my photoblog, I decided this afternoon to bite the bullet and slap up a post.

Hmmm… what to write about…

Much has happened. I would like to write about all of the things I found interesting. I keep telling myself that “Someday, I’ll have some free time and be able to write about the neat experiences of December and January.”

But I’m not naive enough to believe myself.

I could wax eloquent about the snow in Minnesota, about how I went snowboarding for the first time since last March. I could talk about Christmas, musing about the greater importance I now place on my ever-less-frequent visits with my family. I could scribe prose about hockey in Minnesota, about going to a Gophers game with Mutak (but nearly not getting in). Maybe I could mention my Fraternity trip to the Indy Ice game.

But where is the time?

I could enter into this electronic archive records of Ditch, the Fraternity event where, despite my best efforts, my little brother caught me. Perhaps instead I should talk about the great fun I had when I was the target of a prank by my little brothers (led by one in particular) and the Associate class. There would be a lot to write about — my couch, my chair, my paddles, my liquor, and the journey of my hat.

But could I do the events justice?

Maybe I could mention how it snowed (!) in Indiana. I could snicker as I type accounts of the school closings and delays (not Rose, of course). I could smile as I think about the youthful exuberance I experienced while sledding down the front hill with Edmonson, Ted, and Sabrina. Fortunately, Wojo has written something that faithfully recounts the spirit of the night.

But what could I add without tainting my own blissful recollection of the experience?

Senior Project might be interesting to write about.

Except, it’s not done yet, is nowhere close to being so, and is still technical enough that nobody would appreciate the development nuances anyway. Give it a few months — I’ll mention it again.

I know what I’ll do. I’ll start from the present and go forward.

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Last night, we welcomed four outstanding people into association with us. I am referring, of course, to the spring Bid Tuesday

Yesterday marked the last time I will likely ever be involved with Bid Tuesday. It was sentimental in a way, more so because I was the only senior who participated. Was I the only one who cared? Or maybe it was because all the other seniors were too “busy,” as everyone claims to perpetually be. Despite my slap class’ conspicuous absence, I was happy to see the new class, happy to see the high level of participation by the freshmen and sophomores, and happy to carry on our traditions. (I’ll save reminiscing about my Fraternity experience and the upcoming “real world” for another day)

I took some photos of the event.

Ah, photography. I enjoy it. I enjoy capturing moments in time. I enjoy learning about techniques and improving my own. I enjoy the challenge — I’m not good at it now, but I know that I can, will, and am getting better. I enjoy playing with the technology. I enjoy the pleasure others experience when they enjoy a photograph that I took. I enjoy the surprise of the finished product — with an SLR camera, if you see it when you take the shot, you didn’t get the photo.

Perhaps the only downside to being the one taking pictures is that it becomes rather difficult to be in the pictures. Self-timers mitigate this to some extent. Entrustment of the camera to a bystander is a crap shoot — assuming that they don’t run off with it, drop it, or scratch it, they will most likely not understand how to use it, not know how to take decent photos, or take decent photos of everything except what I am interested in. Of course, sometimes the fates align, and they (intentionally or not) take a bunch of great pictures.

An example of sheer luck turning out alright occurred at the Indy Ice hockey game. At the end of the game, we wanted a group photo, so I loaned my camera to Snyder’s girlfriend. She appeared a bit overwhelmed by it but put forth her best effort. She took what we thought were a couple of shots and then returned the camera. It turns out that she didn’t realize that the camera was in continuous drive mode, so she took 12 photos of the group over the course of roughly 5 seconds. I’m glad she took so many, even if it was unintentional; in the twelve, I found one where nobody was blinking and everybody was smiling at the camera. In retrospect, this is a great technique, and one I plan to repeat in the future: throw quantity at the stranger-has-your-camera situation!

Next quarter, in addition to senior project and (now two) graduate-level engineering courses, I’m taking Beginning Photography. I’ve never shot nor developed black-and-white film before, so it should be an enlightening experience.

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And now, as a teaser for some future blog entry, here’s something which is sure to come as a surprise to a number of people, including my family:

I’m going to Paris, France for quarter break.

Congratulations to Ted, my fourth and final little brother, who joined the men of Pi Kappa Alpha in Brotherhood on Friday night!

Keacher.com and related sites are slowly returning to the ‘net after a weekend absence. The short version is that the business with which the old server was hosted disappeared overnight. Fortunately, I make backups. Unfortunately, the most recent one was from November 21.

More details in the coming days…

I just noticed that CNN is carrying a story about Los Angeles calling upon computer manufacturers to stop using the terms “master” and “slave.” Now, I’m all for cultural sensitivity and against discrimination, but is it really necessary to replace these decades-old, industry-standard terms? We’re talking about a computer here! Sheesh. I’ll be interested to see what words they conjure as replacements.

Before you know it, somebody will be offended by the labeling of computer plugs and jacks as “male” and “female.”

Here’s to new experiences!

Last night, Vince, Alex, Bri, Krystal, two of Alex’s friends, and I went to Treasure Island Casino.

Despite having been eligible for three years (in Minnesota, one needs only be 18 to gamble at a casino), I had never before been to a casino. The place was about as I had imagined it: lots of slot machines and lots blackjack tables. Even the essential “Win this Car” slots were there.

The demographics of the place were as I expected. The old people were at the slots, striving fruitlessly and mindlessly towards an enigmatic jackpot. The young people were at the blackjack tables, talking it up with the dealers and exercising their latest “system.”

It was towards our peers that we gravitated.

The cardinal rule of casinos is to expect to lose all the money with which you start playing. This tenet in mind, our group sat down together at a table. High stakes this was not — our table had a $3 minimum, so most of us bought in with $21. On second thought, perhaps that is high stakes to a college student. But I digress…

We played for a while. At least one of our party lost it all. I got down to a last bet and then rebuilt. After I was up slightly for the night, everybody else seemed done with blackjack, so I tipped the dealer and left the table. All told, I ended the night up $2. Woo.

It was entertainment. More importantly, it was a chance to hang out with friends. That I didn’t lose money was a nice bonus.