270 Leagues, under three days

Or: A small glimpse into the life and strange (for the most part) yet true (would I lie) adventures of yours truly: Who rode for 48 hours in an SUV, accompanied by a driver, mostly on the 101 and I-5 (the Pacific Crest trail for cars), but spending some time on the 880, 680, 580, and various other local roads; Lacking a car and the ability to (legally) drive it. Including an account of how he arrived safely home. Written by himself (or so he claims). As Daniel Defoe (Yes, I know (psychic, yet again) that between this and the title I'm probably going overboard with my references to maritime fiction) would title such a tale (of course, his style saves you money and time (which is of course a repetitive and redundant statement, the two being equivalent) - if you're too busy to read the book, there's no need to find/buy a copy of the (cliff/spark)notes/gradesaver/insert other providers here to avoid complaints about me abandoning some other review notes provider/(legal: the phrase containing this note is not intended as an endorsement of any or all of the above providers - and students, you should always read the material and only use such sources for review or to supplement your having read the complete original text first. Phew...glad I got that straightened out)/pinkmonkey - just read the title and you've got the beginning, middle, end, and setting. Which combined with a bit of luck and some finely-honed test-taking skills (when in doubt, choose C), should be enough to pass (if not ace) any test your benevolent provider of knowledge may choose to present you with (and now, for your daily dose of contradiction and your quote of the moment, now conveniently combined into one streamlined set of double apostrophes, "Examinations are formidable even to the best prepared, for the greatest fool may ask more than the wisest man can answer." - Charles Caleb Colton. Which, as I look back after having pressed ctrl+v, may not be a contradiction at all - it could be argued (though probably not (seriously - for it could also be argued (which I am) that by developing and publishing this line of thought I am arguing it) by me - there's a little bit about probabilities there that is missed by this simplification) that if even the best of preparations do not guarantee success, why not just read the cover and spend the time you would spend studying engaged in something more worthwhile/entertaining/both (need the two be mutually exclusive?)), essays excepted. Unless you happen writing something akin to this post which I am currently writing (keep in mind that these words refer to the time of writing, not reading - by the time you, loyal reader (if this is your first visit, you must now come back so as not to have been incorrectly labeled) are reading this post, I shall be long finished writing this sentence, not to mention this post, a fact which I do know to be true by my amazing gift of foresight), which given a sufficiently loose definition (or interpretation of said definition - did you really think the dictionary was meant to be taken literally?) could be considered an essay. Which would require you to tell me which class you are taking, because I would love to have test questions like this. Which is entirely beside the point and is attempting to defeat my attempt to use that brilliant literary technique commonly known as an introduction, leading up to content which will correspond to and hopefully make clear the title and first few sentences of this post. Which will hopefully put an end to this ghastly string of sentences beginning with the word "which". Which I guess wasn't quite true yet. But now it is, by sheer force of willpower and violation of grammatical law (bonus points to the person(s) who can point out both that error and the other violation present in this sentence), the forces of which combine to bring you something at least somewhat related to the subject at hand (or hands - I type with both of them, or eyes - you're probably reading with them (psychic, lucky, or statistics?)). You see (or hear/feel if you happen to be using a screenreader or braille), while taking the aforementioned road trip home at the conclusion of the school year, we (my friend, who was driving me, and I) made several observations which, without further ado (or parenthetical notes ... zut!), I present for your perusal and hopeful amusement

1. Shortly (two miles to be exact) before the transformation of a two-lane highway into a freeway, a sign is posted which reads "Divided road begins 2 miles". What exactly is the purpose of this sign. When one considers the number of such transitions that must exist throughout the state of California alone, and multiplies by the amount of metal and paint required to create each sign, it adds up to a lot of financial, human, and natural resources (is there such a thing as an unnatural resource?) spent. If the sole purpose is to provide travelers unfamiliar with the area with hope that they will soon be able to proceed at a rate of at least one mile per minute, is that perhaps not the best use of said resources. Of course, Caltrans being a government agency, this is a legitimate possibility. The other possibility which presents itself in my mind is that this is for the benefit of any motorists who happen to be driving the road rather than the lane - who may experience a rude awakening when the two sides become divided (a formidable challenge to those who don't own hummers or similar vehicles) split and then later take different courses as rural highways occasionally do. If this is the case, and these signs have actually saved lives, I retract all criticism present in this item only, and will update this post accordingly.
2. The "end construction" sign. It is similar to the previously mentioned sign, in that it serves partly give hope to drivers driven to madness after miles of avoiding cones, obeying flagmen, and driving over steel plates, and partly to notify them that traffic fines will no longer be doubled should they choose to speed (see below) or otherwise violate traffic violations. Yet in a monogamous couple, such a sign does make sense - construction zones should be clearly marked, if only to simplify enforcement of those doubled traffic fines. However, we observed several of these signs which were single (I'm glad that the construction is over, but thanks for telling me it was going to start) or involved in a polygamist relationship (This isn't Utah. Are two "end construction" signs really necessary? I think I got comprehended the message the first time). Of course, the situation is easily explained if, as my dad has suggested, these are actually signs of protest by those who wish to end construction once and for all. If this is the case, then such placements make perfect sense. In fact, they help to eliminate the confusion which understandably results from their juxtaposition with the conclusion of a construction zone (perhaps these placements are part of a government plot to dilute the true meaning of these signs and put an end to what must be a widespread grassroots (literally at times) movement).
3. People go ridiculously fast along the straighter parts of the I-5 passing through the San Joaquin Valley. Not really a surprise, but it ties in nicely with the previous item. Plus it makes the list longer, so why not include it (intended to be rhetorical, but you can answer if you'd like)? Along that stretch of highway lies 52.4% of the solution to California's budget deficit (the other 47.6% being the "california stop" so popular among those who dislike coming to a complete stop (and refuse to accept the argument that as long as their car's temperature is above absolute zero, it is still moveing) while their engine is running).
4. Generic text-to-speech engines should be relegated to the early 21's century where they belong - why settle for a choppy computerized voice when you could have a cowboy or John Cleese directing you to your destination instead? Also a second reason to go with a portable gps unit with usb transfer capabilities (you could try this with a factory installed navigation system but I hope you either have a laptop or a sufficiently wide front door to permit relocation of vehicle in question to an appropriate position alongside your desktop of choice. Of course wireless capabilities can also work wonders). The first reason is to save yourself the harrying experience of attempting to take an alternate route, feeling resistance in the steering wheel and then hearing those dreaded words over the sound system: "I'm sorry Dave...". It's even worse if your name isn't Dave - your car is taking control from you and it doesn't even have the courtesy to learn your name.
   
5. Jack-in-the-box has only two locations in the entire state of Oregon. Well, not really (I checked - there's 46). But traveling along the I-5 from Portland to the California border, we spotted two locations, a number which dwindles to near-insignificance compared with the quantity of locations we observed for some other fast-food chains (sorry, I don't have exact observed figures for this, although to give you an idea the McDonald's restaurant locater reports 23 stores within a half mile of that same stretch of road).
6. This trip was over 1.5 weeks ago. Memory is fallible and fleeting. An observation which fits at least as well as #3 in this list. I intended to write this post within a day or two of my arrival home, and as such did not preserve this list in writing before the creation of this post. Which increased the difficulty inherent in ensuring that each item present should fail to be ommitted from the final copy. Yet difficult is far from impossible, and I believe myself to have included all items which deserved to be present. If not, I reserve the right to publish a second installation of this list.
7. Many consider this number to be lucky.
8. Myself, I prefer 13
13. This number is 7 in base 4.

From centuries-old castaways, to contemporary travels, to quaternary math, this post has lead you in two journeys. One you experienced vicariously through my words. Yet it was only one part of a larger journey, the form of which was conveniently outlined two sentences ago. This journey you experienced directly, my voice reduced to that of a guide. They journey will continue, but I know not where it will lead you. For while I am ignorant of your path beyond the conclusion of this post, I know with near certainty my destination once I type the concluding words of this post. In the words of an immortal camp song, "they all (for certain values of "all") went to bed".

I just finished finals...yet they still expect a creative title

So it's over. My first year of college. It's kind of an odd thought. And it was exactly a year ago today that I walked to the mailbox and ever so tentatively dropped the envelope, containing that fateful paper with my legally binding signature, into its depths. Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating, but proof of this is left as an exercise for the reader (and yes, I did just use those words which, upon their appearance on the pages of a textbook (or notes handout - I'm pretty sure Krune used that phrase at least once) fill every student, myself included (of course, maybe I'm generalizing my thoughts to every student, but you'll have to prove that too), with dread - and which immediately (allowing of course for reaction time and the inevitable speed limitations based on the rate of communication between neurons) trigger the mental translation (at least in my case - I'm not going to project my internal thought process onto the set of all students twice in one sentence (if you can call this conglomeration of dashes and parentheses a sentence - I know I can) )- "I didn't feel like writing this proof out so you get to do it instead". At least they're not killing as many trees that way, but they could at least put a link to the proof up on the web (although if your electricity (and that of the data center for the webhost) doesn't come from a renewable source you would still be harming the environment by looking it up) for perusal by curious students. But I suppose that would defeat the point of it being an "exercise" - and then there's the argument that anything truly worthwhile in life one must work to achieve (although perhaps contradicted by that other statement that the best things in life are free. Or maybe not. As most longtime free software users (such as myself) will tell you, freedom has many different facets - just look for discussions about "free bacliva" (not wanting to endorse excessive drinking) vs "free speech". So I stand corrected (by myself, and I'm sitting). The best things in life could be free, while still requiring work to obtain. At times that which is free is harder to obtain than that which costs. And then there's the matter of how to define free - and for that matter, how to define cost. Is anything truly free? Was that a rhetorical question? Could I pose any other loaded, self-referencial, or philosophical questions? (I'll give you a hint - the answer to the last one is yes - but I won't, at least not for a little while) Actually, let me ask one more, somewhat simpler, question: could I abuse parentheses any more than I already am? (here's a hint (a rather self-referential one at that)) And finally, can you (meaning the reader - as I look back over that statement it appears that I'm talking to myself) keep track of where the sentence was before this giant block of parentheses started? I think I can, and I'm about to test you. Let me know if I get it wrong (it's possible - as is anything until you (and everyone else) stop believing in it), that I may correct this post and not lead future readers astray) , so perhaps my assumption about their motives is fallacious, and therefore this entire rant is unfounded. But then, are rants supposed to be completely calm, logical, and rational? I think if they were, they would be awarded a far more formal title such as "persuasive essay" (and perhaps some of them are - is this one of them? (I'm sure asking a lot of questions today)), the likes of which I haven't written (at least not in a formalized fashion) for some time. But I digress (not as if that's an unusual occurrence around here (if you're wondering, here refers here to the virtual location which is this blog - not necessarily the Christie hall front desk (where I'm writing this), nor wherever your computer is located and displaying this page - for those are both fleeting, capable of changing any moment (you doubt? Finish reading this sentence, close your browser, and try to tell me where here is - then, lest I create a situation similar to that which resulted when NASA sent a signal to one of their probes telling it to lower its antenna, and found themselves unable to tell it to raise the antenna again - reopen your browser, reload this page, and continue reading) - it is only the virtual location of this website (best visualized by the URL, not the data center from which it is served - for that, too, is constantly in flux given the load balancing between the massive number of servers in Google's network) which provides that semblance of permanence necessary for my previous statement to be comprehended at its fullest level of meaning) - these last few entries have been almost pure stream of consciousness (with slight guidance and the inevitable editing which occurs whenever I'm typing something of this magnitude) - far more even than that philosophy journal entry I wrote on the airplane heading home for fall break (the one which was based only upon a really bad pun regarding this being the high (someday I'll post those entries here so you can know what I'm talking about - although some of you (you'll know who you are if you're reading this) may already know) point of my journal) - that's what happens when I start writing without a clear purpose) from my stated purpose which was...never stated. So perhaps I'm not digressing after all. If my purpose was to write a post of complete randomness, would I be digressing by not going off on tangents - or perhaps secants, seeing as at least some of my thought branches ultimate return to the main subject at hand. You doubt? (you do that a lot, you know that). Watch this space and ye shall see, ye of little faith. Or rather, I think I shall leave the proof of that as an exercise to the reader (insert recursion here, or skip if you'd like to avoid a stack overflow and/or read the rest of this post), as I have far more important matters to consider and do not have time for tangents, whether they be line, plane, or otherwise. One thing remains certain: it is now 365 days since I stayed awake, seeking guidance from everyone I knew who was still awake (namely, my family), until finally coming to a decision at 11:59 - and even then, not mailing my form until the following morning (in case I were to receive a message in a dream warning me not to come here - which must not have happened (or if it did I didn't remember the dream to act on it), considering my presence at UP and the existence of this blog). *insert mental time shift* At the tone, the time is now 12:27 (imagine a high pitched beep - and remember it well, for in many locations the time lady is no more, and a great sadness has fallen across the land as a result), Friday, May 2, and approximately 5 hours have passed since I broke off writing - sorry to have left you in suspense for that time (what do you mean, blogger doesn't public my words the moment they type them? Yes, I am psychic. See my last post if you have questions about that, so that I don't go off on the same tangent twice). Please make any necessary shifts in your visualization of this writing, and note a possible cause of any changes in writings style. In twelve hours or less, I will be gone from the UP campus for the summer, and not returning until August (thank you to National University for offering a Data Structures class down by my house so that I don't have to come up here, find a place to stay for a few weeks, and take it up here. Nor do I have to take what are apparently the 15 hardest credits the school offers in conjunction with graduation and the associated activities, nor must I forego my study abroad plans which are the root of all these complications. Yet for all the difficulties, it shall be worth it to be able to spend a few months doing leadership training in the wilderness with NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School, for the uninitiated) - and to once more exercise my (perhaps questioned, again see previous post) psychic abilities, I am perfectly aware that this has absolutely nothing to do with my chosen major of Computer Science. However, neither do any of the other Study Abroad programs I have come across, and it is for this reason that I risked (or perhaps lost) my sanity at the end of High School through that life-consuming activity commonly known only by it's initials, AP), to commence first my training for the newly-renamed position of Hall Receptionist (read: front desk worker), and later my actual courses. But enough of the future, back to dwelling in the past (this entry was supposed to be reflective) This year has been quite a journey - one which you, my loyal readers (my hit counter indicates the possibility of such beings) , have taken vicariously through my postings (or perhaps directly, considering that if you're reading this there is a high probability of your being one of my classmates). However, I must preface (or rather postface, as it would interrupt my attempt to convey a natural flow of thought if I were to place this warning one sentence earlier) that with a warning (which may sound weird coming from me) not to take that analogy too far - at least regarding the rate of travel of my journey. The frequency of posts has slowed drastically since the conclusion of the fall semester - there have been only three posts this semester, at least one of which was completely unrelated to my journey through college and existed primarily as a medium through which to convey pictures of my dismantled laptop and thus satisfy the curiosity of readers (a curiosity which, if left unchecked (of course, one could also argue that a post such as mine might only pique such a curiosity by indicating what is possible, rather than satisfying it. Indeed, I would (and just did) be such a one), could result in damage to property and voided warranties (<legal>for which I am not responsible (and by reading this sentence you agree to this and any other such statements present in this or any entry here on A Pilot's Ponderings)</legal>). Yet do not be mislead into thinking that the second semester passed slowly for me. The sparse posting was in spite, or perhaps because, of a short and action-packed semester. It feels like just yesterday that I was flying back from Christmas break (it also feels like I started writing this yesterday - and maybe I did. You can work it out if reading this alone is not providing you with a sufficient use for the massive power of your internal parallel computer). A phenomenon for which there likely exist many explanations, of which the only one I will offer is the general decrease in average temperature over last semester (high temperatures tend to increase the processing speed of the brain, causing it to feel like more time has passed than actually has ("actually" here referring to the progression of time generally accepted by the population as a whole) - a phenomenon discovered by a scientist after his feverish wife consistently overestimated the length of his absences. So he got her, while still sick, to participate in a series of experiments quantifying his observations (such a sensitive, caring husband. I love how he was able to involve his wife in his work) - which were later verified using heated hats so as to eliminate the possibility that some other aspect of the illness was causing the effect. Anyway, cold temperatures would have the opposite effect, causing the brain to underestimate the length of a period of time - which over the course of the semester could accumulate for a discrepancy of several days at least (provided that the tendency to separate days based on our sleep cycle (which is covered in another of my philosophy journals to be posted and will therefore not be discussed here) doesn't counteract this effect). This rapid progression of time seems to have left little time for the production of additional posts - there appears to be an inverse relationship between the rate of posts and the rate of passage of time relative to the speed of cranial processing. At least for this semester. I would generalize this to the entire life of A Pilot's Ponderings, but two facts prevent me from doing this, in no particular order: 1.)Last semester didn't feel like it went that slowly, 2.)last semester I had an academic obligation to provide updates at least once ever two weeks - an obligation which as far as I know is not present this semester. There is much I have learned over these 30 weeks of class (and the intervening weeks of break) - far too much to enumerate in this already-far-too-long-given-my-current-layout(one of my first projects upon arrival home is to remove the empty left column and expand the post column to twice its current width, so as to avoid excessive wear and tear (<legal>for which I am once again not responsible</legal>) on scroll wheels, mouse buttons, page up/down keys, and any and all other methods of scrolling through large bodies of text not already mentioned herein) post (current word count (not including the actual number): 2295 (which I believe takes the trophy from my 1300 word teabag entry for my longest published work of this type). Time, technology, and motivation permitting, those may be the subject of a future post. Until then, I shall conclude this post, the last to be posted from Christie Hall 233 (unless I become good friends with the residents next year and start writing posts in their room), declaring that this is <nickname="one of many from which I lack the decisiveness to choose"/>, signing off*

*In a metaphorical sense - I'll still be connected to the internet after I press publish.