One of the podcasts I regularly listen to is Top of the Pods, it's goofy, silly and British, right up my alley. Recently one of the guys went on vacation and they had a guest host from another podcast come in. The guy's name is Mark and he sounds exactly like John Hanna, needless to say, I was instantly in love. Anyway, I decided to check out his regular podcast called Tartan Podcast. It's a music based podcast that features a wide variety of unsigned Scottish musicians and seems to have gotten quite a bit of popularity in recent months. I've just listened to a couple of shows but so far I've been very impressed. You can find and subscribe through iTunes or you can listen from his blog here.

Most summers my company has a nice little picnic or lunch of some sort to help the two offices socialize and get to know each other. Unfortunately, we almost never intermingle and instead spend most of the time talking to the people in our own office anyway. The whole thing is very fruitless (not sorry for the terrible pun).

This year one of my coworkers came up with the idea of doing something constructive instead. And picking food for the poor won out over other more costly ideas such as going to a Nationals game. I had a lot of fun, we got to hang out in the sun, get a little dirty and do a little charity. Also, we got to take home any tomatoes we wanted to. Unfortunately, I wore a tank top and in my effort to make sure I got every fruit on the plant, made a habit of leaning over the bush as far as possible. I noticed several hours later that my armpits were dyed green by whatever chemicals they sprayed on plants. Of course this was after I had spent most of the day in public, still with a tank top on. I wonder what those old highschool friends thought of me when I saw them at the mall sporting my alien colored underarms? Ah well.

Here are some more pictures, taken by my coworker Liz. Yesterday really was gorgeous, the perfect day to be out and about.

This song, by The Muppets, was sent to me by a coworker a while ago and remains in my iTunes Library so that it comes up every so often when I'm least expecting it. It cracks me up every time, and reminds me of the Space Ghost version of it that Brak sings. I used to have two CD's of Space Ghost Coast to Coast but I stupidly loaned them out to a guy in college and never saw them again.

This weekend I received my new license in the mail. Even though I have many speeding tickets, a parking ticket and one accident on my record, it seems that the DMV has decided to continue allowing me free reign on the streets without retaking the written test. This rocks, since even though taking a couple hours to study the test booklet wouldn't have been too bad, I was not looking forward to taking on the nasty behemoth that is the DMV waiting line. Of course they only let you renew online every other time so I will have to battle the waiting line in five years time, but who knows where I'll be then.

The good thing about getting my new license is that it is now sideways instead of vertical and I can go to the giant wine store in Denver without being kicked out. This store for some reason kicked me out when I was there with my mom and sister three years ago even though I was 21 solely because I had a Virginia license that was still vertical. The stupidest part was that the woman understood and believed that I was 21 but kicked me out anyway, now tell me does that make sense? I stupidly had to wait in the car while my mom and sister finished shopping.

So, I've begun subscribing to a couple of podcasts which I listen to at work, they never quite make it to my iPod, which perhaps defeats the purpose but, oh well. iTunes has made it incredibly easy to find, subscribe and download podcasts. The problem is that all the podcasters out there so far seem to be complete idiots. Most podcasters I've come across are teams of two mid-twenties to early thirties dorky wanna-be radio personalities. The trouble is that I know these guys are idiots and half the time I'm laughing at them instead of with them but I just can't stop listening to them. The trouble is that even though they're idiots they're still much less annoying than the actual radio personalities that get paid to broadcast their inane chatter over the radio waves here in the DC area.

So, I'm an idiot and of course I let my vehicle registration go out of date before renewing it. However, I eventually did decide to fix that and went over to the DMV website to see how that could be done. I first find out that since I recently moved and my address is now out of date, I have to first change my address before renewing my registration. I then find out that I need a PIN number with the DMV to do so. Since, I've not done anything online with the DMV before, I don't seem to have a PIN number, so of course I request one, but the only way they have to get it to me is to send it to my address on file, which is of course no longer my address. I call up the DMV to explain that they are about to send my PIN number to the wrong address but it is virtually impossible to get a real person on the line. So I sit back and put my trust in the US Postal Service who I have asked to forward all of my mail for me. This was 2 weeks ago. I finally got my new PIN number Monday but too late as I came back from my weekend trip to NY State sunday with a ticket for having expired tags neatly tucked under my windshield wipers (which also need replacing).

Anyway, I got my PIN and went back to the website today to change my address and renew my registration, all of which was so painless that I thought, "Hey! while I'm at it I'll renew my license" which will expire at the end of September. I had thought that because of my ridiculous amount of speeding tickets they would make me retake the written test and not let me renew online. But the License Renewal form I got in the mail the same day as my new PIN number mentioned nothing about having to go in and retake the test, so I figure why not give it a shot. It was easy, a little TOO easy if you get my meaning. They tell me that I will receive a new license within 5 business days, but I have the sneaking suspicion that instead I'll get another letter, accompanied by a study booklet, telling me that I have to go into the DMV to take the written test. But, if this is the case, why couldn't they have just told me up front? What about the people that don't realize they might need to take the test and wait till the last minute to renew?

As I sat down to enjoy my free bagel with jam (someone finished my cream cheese) I picked up the section of the Post closest to me and began to read. Granted the Style section is not the most hardcore news but still how many articles really need to be written about iPod obsessed freaks? There in the lower right corner was an article titled: "The iPod: A Love Story Between Man, Machine". As if the title weren't bad enough the article goes on to describe in an utterly whimsical fashion the songs that send this otherwise normal seeming man into a frenzy of nostalgia when heard on his ipod. Granted, I own an iPod mini, and I like it. It's compact, allows me to carry around half my music library in that little pocket in my jeans that seems to have no other purpose, and it's excellent for listening to books on cd while I'm brainlessly going through hanging files at work. However, it does not "complete me". The Post seems to think that articles about twenty-somethings freakishly in love with their iPods is the only way to get in touch with their younger readers, and so has been putting out at least one article a month about it. I'm beginning to wonder whether or not Macintosh is perhaps contributing a little monetary padding to the Post under the table. I haven't seen any articles about other mp3 players, though this doesn't mean they don't exist. These articles wouldn't be nearly as idiotic if they carried some sort of new information but they don't, they're pitifully similar to articles I remember reading in the Madison Highschool newspaper, Hawktalk.

Anyway, while we're on the Style section, two more articles caught my eye this morning. One on a new place in Arlington called Denim Bar which apparently features bartender styled salesmen selling designer jeans and perhaps even giving out a beer or two. This is perfect, beer while you shop! What better way to get someone to spend a shitload on a pair of jeans than to get them drunk first. The only problem is that these jeans probably cost about 600 smackaroos and I would most likely be turned away from the store after being told by the owner that I am just "not prepared to be fabulous."

A man who is "prepared to be fabulous", Christopher Walken, has his own article as well. Directly under the article about Denim Bar is an article about www.walken2008.com. Which includes such wonderful quotes as "Why vote for the lesser of two evils, when you can vote for someone who looks evil?" and suggestions for campaign slogans such as "When I win, everyone gets a glass of shhham-pan-ya", "Like your father's gold watch, this country needs to be kept safe, secure and in a warm place" and "More Cowbell!" Christopher Walken is awesome!

This week I've been plagued by strange vivid dreams, perhaps it has to do with the fact that I've moved back into my parents house, or perhaps I've been getting too much sleep since I hurt my ankle (yes, again) the other night at a soccer game, and am therefore not getting up early to run before work. Whatever the reason, last night's dream was the weirdest by far.

I was in Becca's house but not the house she just got, this place was more like a warehouse of some sort. Anyway, I was changing in this big store room when all of a sudden about 5 guys burst in the room. I yell at them to get out but they ignore me and start talking about all the stuff they have to move around. Becca and Patrick are at the door looking like they want to try and get the guys out of the room but are for some reason unable to. So I go up to the smallest one of the 5 and punch him as hard as I can in the left jaw. Weird feeling considering I've never punched anyone in the face before.

Anyway, so I finally get them out of the room and am able to finish changing. Then I'm in a bathroom but instead of a toilet there is a big bucket. Soon, a small Indian boy, about 8 years old, walks in. We proceed to have a very in depth conversation about philosophy and religion, the boy is Hindu and tries to explain the religion to me. I get the feeling that he is somehow exasperated with me and also feels very much superior to me. Then I hear my mom calling from the other room. We are late to go somewhere and I'm in a rush. I put on my shoes and scoop up the boy and hurry out. My parents are waiting for me, sitting on the couch. My mom says, "ah, there you are, now I just have to put on my shoes and we'll be ready. There's caviar in them." And sure enough I can hear the little caviar eggs being squished as she puts her feet into her shoes. The sound makes me feel a little queasy. The end.

The only things that I can think of that may have something to do with my waking life are the little indian boy and the caviar. It's possible that the caviar is related to the band named Caviar, whose song "Tangerine Speedo" I have recently rediscovered on an old mix CD of mine. The little indian boy reminds me of my cousin's son Matthew, who is not indian, but who told me the other night that Harry Potter is not cool.