<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399</id><updated>2011-04-22T00:21:28.136+01:00</updated><title type='text'>London Summer</title><subtitle type='html'>The Title shall change from time to time, but this blog will always be about Kevin Kelly.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-6766919510235439926</id><published>2008-07-26T23:12:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T23:39:09.508+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The West End</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIujw_KurkI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/m-3ADtVERVw/s1600-h/DSC01658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227451854479076930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIujw_KurkI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/m-3ADtVERVw/s400/DSC01658.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately he neither kicked nor bit me. This was just a short walk from 10 Downing Street. One of the few places where I have seen armed police officers in the UK. Most of the time, they don't have guns, and I have no idea how they get people to obey them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIukJAbtxAI/AAAAAAAAAEY/3ybjxg8CyOE/s1600-h/DSC01661.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227452267135616002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIukJAbtxAI/AAAAAAAAAEY/3ybjxg8CyOE/s400/DSC01661.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This war memorial struck me as pretty cool. Each of the statues represents a different part of the armed services.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIukqZ4fF3I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Qn9zpipvvdg/s1600-h/DSC01665.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227452840902858610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIukqZ4fF3I/AAAAAAAAAEg/Qn9zpipvvdg/s400/DSC01665.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the statue right in front of Buckingham Palace. I caught the changing of the guards last time I was here, so I didn't bother to fight my way through the teeming mass of tourists this time. Queen Victoria is a very unattractive woman, although it is difficult to see from this distance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIul88jT-WI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Q8WRO_1veK8/s1600-h/DSC01668.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227454258958563682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIul88jT-WI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Q8WRO_1veK8/s400/DSC01668.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Statues near Knightsbridge. I took my lunch here and was asked for directions, until they heard my accent and ignore any advice I could possibly have given them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIulLbvSOfI/AAAAAAAAAEo/LRcO059oBjk/s1600-h/DSC01662.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227453408336820722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIulLbvSOfI/AAAAAAAAAEo/LRcO059oBjk/s400/DSC01662.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a tough to choose between the Constabulary and the Horse Guards Parade. Both hold so much promise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-6766919510235439926?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/6766919510235439926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=6766919510235439926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/6766919510235439926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/6766919510235439926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2008/07/west-end.html' title='The West End'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SIujw_KurkI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/m-3ADtVERVw/s72-c/DSC01658.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-1541079878616411871</id><published>2008-06-02T22:54:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T23:19:27.620+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Circle Line Party</title><content type='html'>Saturday night was the last night for drinking on the tube, at least according to the new Mayor of London, Boris Johnson. In response a number of people began organizing parties to enjoy one last drink under London. My sister, her roommate, friend, and I decided to check out the festivities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started with beer on the DLR:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERsxKdgXAI/AAAAAAAAADA/wmerWOidfwo/s1600-h/Circle+Line+Party+-+First+Beers.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERsxKdgXAI/AAAAAAAAADA/wmerWOidfwo/s400/Circle+Line+Party+-+First+Beers.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207406661024635906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After switching to the over ground and then descending into Embankment Station we saw the first signs of the party. People were and had been converging on the Circle Line all day. The Circle Line is a portion of the tube that travels in a circle without an endpoint. This car passed us going clockwise on the line, while we waited for a counterclockwise train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERtJadgXBI/AAAAAAAAADI/a3zAaiNoaKk/s1600-h/Circle+Line+Party+-+Clockwise+Train.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERtJadgXBI/AAAAAAAAADI/a3zAaiNoaKk/s400/Circle+Line+Party+-+Clockwise+Train.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207407077636463634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As we waited, we were charmed by this group of young drinkers who came prepared with a makeshift table, wine bottle, and cups to have a delightful and dainty last drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERtfqdgXCI/AAAAAAAAADQ/DALnyhwinMw/s1600-h/Circle+Line+Party+-+Classy+Wine+Picnic.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERtfqdgXCI/AAAAAAAAADQ/DALnyhwinMw/s400/Circle+Line+Party+-+Classy+Wine+Picnic.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207407459888552994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Embankment there are two different lines that use the track, both the District and Circle lines. We had to wait through a bunch of district line trains before we finally got on a Circle line. In our haste to board we did not notice that we had gotten on the hooligan car. The atmosphere was essentially that of a jungle. It was moist and the lights bulbs had been hit out of place. People were chanting and punching the car walls and it was generally an unpleasant environment. After riding for a few stops we made the decision to switch to a different car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERt8qdgXDI/AAAAAAAAADY/eWk8vcSi2IY/s1600-h/Circle+Line+Party+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERt8qdgXDI/AAAAAAAAADY/eWk8vcSi2IY/s400/Circle+Line+Party+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207407958104759346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point we joined a much better scene in another car on the same train. Inside there was a drummer and the guy pictured below, who was providing accompaniment on a kazoo. It was actually pretty excellent. Everyone was having a good time and things seemed to have entered a good phase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERxWKdgXGI/AAAAAAAAADw/HCivP8axOos/s1600-h/Circle+Line+Party+-+Kazoo+Guy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERxWKdgXGI/AAAAAAAAADw/HCivP8axOos/s400/Circle+Line+Party+-+Kazoo+Guy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207411694726306914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we stopped at King's Cross and never started again. Rumor has it that there was a fight at one end of the train, but regardless of the cause the powers that be decided that the best way to defuse the situation was the kick everyone out of the station and shut it down for a little bit. Here is a shot of everyone leaving the train and giving a little vocal feedback to the TfL workers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERuvqdgXFI/AAAAAAAAADo/uHb_Af_pQ3s/s1600-h/Circle+Line+Party+-+King%27s+Cross+Crowd.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERuvqdgXFI/AAAAAAAAADo/uHb_Af_pQ3s/s400/Circle+Line+Party+-+King%27s+Cross+Crowd.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207408834278087762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, a very fun night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-1541079878616411871?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/1541079878616411871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=1541079878616411871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/1541079878616411871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/1541079878616411871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2008/06/circle-line-party.html' title='Circle Line Party'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SERsxKdgXAI/AAAAAAAAADA/wmerWOidfwo/s72-c/Circle+Line+Party+-+First+Beers.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-3118248796655950954</id><published>2008-05-29T21:31:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T22:01:04.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'>More Wanderings</title><content type='html'>I realize that this blog is getting very picture heavy, but I hope you enjoy these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking just east of Westminster Bridge and came upon these statues of characters that you might recognize. I guess these are dedicated to Camson and Dan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8UuIqJZQI/AAAAAAAAACk/7ucB-s-FwaU/s1600-h/Thames+Walk+-+Batman+and+Indiana.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8UuIqJZQI/AAAAAAAAACk/7ucB-s-FwaU/s400/Thames+Walk+-+Batman+and+Indiana.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205902477094380802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8UFYqJZPI/AAAAAAAAACc/VeNrqi9ra1A/s1600-h/Thames+Walk+-+Superman.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8UFYqJZPI/AAAAAAAAACc/VeNrqi9ra1A/s400/Thames+Walk+-+Superman.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205901777014711538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on the North bank of the Thames in a small park when I found this statue of John Stuart Mill. The engraving is hard to make out, but you will have to trust me when I tell you it says John Stuart Mill. I really love all of the parks that the British have spread about London. It is really too bad that they exist in London where April Showers bring May Showers and I will bet that May Showers will bring June Showers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8TpYqJZOI/AAAAAAAAACU/TN8HinNxIx8/s1600-h/JS+Mill+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8TpYqJZOI/AAAAAAAAACU/TN8HinNxIx8/s400/JS+Mill+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205901295978374370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below is a picture I took today while exploring the British Museum, which I somehow always get lost while traveling to from Tottenham Court Station. This in the inner area of the museum. There are exhibition halls surrounding this area on all sides. In the center the cylindrical hall is the reading room, which was unfortunately closed today. I sat in it during my last visit to London and it was pretty cool, I hope to return again sometime this summer. I love the glass ceiling that they have covering this inner courtyard. While walking around inside I was carrying my Rick Steves' London 2006 book because it has a British Museum Tour inside it and I figured everyone there was a tourist so there was no reason to be shy. I passed a woman who was holding the Rick Steves' London 2008 book and so I said, "Nice book," but she didn't hear me so I just looked like I was shouting randomly at people, which I guess I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8TDoqJZNI/AAAAAAAAACM/YzhM86HmFfg/s1600-h/British+Museum+Interior+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8TDoqJZNI/AAAAAAAAACM/YzhM86HmFfg/s400/British+Museum+Interior+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205900647438312658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was near Oxford Circus looking for a small journal to carry around with me and keep a record of this summer, when I caught a bus to get back to the station and it went a different direction than I expected. Although it got me a little lost I saw this statue out the window. It is of William Pitt. If he were alive I am sure he would appreciate the fact that I always said William Pitt Union rather than simply the Union while at Pitt, despite the criticism of any number of you truncators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8ZKYqJZSI/AAAAAAAAAC0/6MbFMhzmAjk/s1600-h/William+Pitt.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8ZKYqJZSI/AAAAAAAAAC0/6MbFMhzmAjk/s400/William+Pitt.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205907360472196386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that is good for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-3118248796655950954?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/3118248796655950954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=3118248796655950954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/3118248796655950954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/3118248796655950954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2008/05/more-wanderings.html' title='More Wanderings'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SD8UuIqJZQI/AAAAAAAAACk/7ucB-s-FwaU/s72-c/Thames+Walk+-+Batman+and+Indiana.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-6599987556259244675</id><published>2008-05-26T21:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T21:34:03.178+01:00</updated><title type='text'>River Walk</title><content type='html'>Last Friday, I spent the morning sorting out my bank account in London, then set off for Waterloo Station to begin an afternoon of sightseeing. I had interviewed for a job the previous day and had another appointment scheduled for the coming Tuesday, and finally felt momentarily carefree enough to enjoy the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started off by crossing Westminster Bridge under the watchful gaze of this bemused lion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDsXS4qJZII/AAAAAAAAAAc/UDHX1ID7NJI/s1600-h/Westminster+-+Lion.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDsXS4qJZII/AAAAAAAAAAc/UDHX1ID7NJI/s400/Westminster+-+Lion.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204779407570986114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood with hundreds of other tourists getting the same pictures of Big Ben and the Parliament building before scrambling through traffic to reach a square of grass that seems to be the semi-permanent home to a group of camping war protesters and a number of statues including one of Churchill. Unfortunately, as near as I could tell there was no way to get to the park except by jaywalking, which seems to be odd for a park with mostly inward facing statuary. The photo below is efficiently enough self-describing:&lt;br /&gt;/&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDsZRYqJZJI/AAAAAAAAAAk/wHAeLM5idSU/s1600-h/Westminster+-+Churchill.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDsZRYqJZJI/AAAAAAAAAAk/wHAeLM5idSU/s400/Westminster+-+Churchill.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204781580824437906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After eating my sandwich in the park, I started my stroll along the south bank of the Thames, moving west to east with my eventual destination being the London Bridge rail station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I passed a number of cool things, but I thought I would post some pictures from the Tate Modern where Nissan was sponsoring some sort of X-gamesesque show. It was cool at first, but the bikers had to keep going through the series of ramps again and again, and some weren't putting much effort in by the time I got there. Not being sure about the etiquette of heckling in London, I moved on, but I did get these pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDscB4qJZKI/AAAAAAAAAAs/0dVpecziUxU/s1600-h/Tate+Modern+-+Pseudo+X-Games+%285%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDscB4qJZKI/AAAAAAAAAAs/0dVpecziUxU/s400/Tate+Modern+-+Pseudo+X-Games+%285%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204784613071348898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDscrIqJZLI/AAAAAAAAAA0/MaQvo8Y6IO8/s1600-h/Tate+Modern+-+Pseudo+X-Games+%284%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDscrIqJZLI/AAAAAAAAAA0/MaQvo8Y6IO8/s400/Tate+Modern+-+Pseudo+X-Games+%284%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204785321740952754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDsdfoqJZMI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ELxx8FdYvnE/s1600-h/Tate+Modern+-+Pseudo+X-Games+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDsdfoqJZMI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ELxx8FdYvnE/s400/Tate+Modern+-+Pseudo+X-Games+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204786223684084930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up checking out the Borough Market, which is an outdoor market that is mostly covered by different overhangs slash bridges. It is pretty cool with lots of fresh produce and places to grab a quick snack. I bought a peach and some almond baklava for £1. That ended that days trek, but I figure I might try to get caught up by posting some other stories from my time here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-6599987556259244675?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/6599987556259244675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=6599987556259244675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/6599987556259244675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/6599987556259244675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2008/05/river-walk.html' title='River Walk'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_dZvj9epES9U/SDsXS4qJZII/AAAAAAAAAAc/UDHX1ID7NJI/s72-c/Westminster+-+Lion.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-3086529513621160629</id><published>2008-05-05T06:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T07:03:17.527+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone is Lazy</title><content type='html'>I was driving home tonight from seeing Iron Man, and noticed numerous orange road construction signs strewn about the shoulder of the road. None of them represented a current warning or notice. There was no construction, no need to detour, and most definitely no work ahead. Seeing these cosntruction signs left up long after the end of their effective dates annoyed me at first, but then I remembered something. I haven't changed my google chat status from Brb in like two years. I guess I can cut the PennDOT crew a little slack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-3086529513621160629?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/3086529513621160629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=3086529513621160629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/3086529513621160629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/3086529513621160629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2008/05/everyone-is-lazy.html' title='Everyone is Lazy'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-2178965550861251701</id><published>2008-05-02T03:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T03:44:24.840+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bleak Days</title><content type='html'>No one is home, and the tivo at my parents' house is acting up. I have gotten to the point that I get excited when my parents come home. London in six days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-2178965550861251701?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/2178965550861251701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=2178965550861251701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/2178965550861251701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/2178965550861251701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2008/05/bleak-days.html' title='Bleak Days'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-7588791340189375130</id><published>2008-05-02T02:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T02:48:42.460+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Beginning</title><content type='html'>I decided to start posting here again. Between living in London and departing for Law School in Charlottesville, I wanted a way to keep everyone informed of what is going on in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-7588791340189375130?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/7588791340189375130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=7588791340189375130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/7588791340189375130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/7588791340189375130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2008/05/new-beginning.html' title='A New Beginning'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-115009212039424143</id><published>2006-06-12T06:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T02:33:44.736+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress Injury</title><content type='html'>Two steps per sidewalk square. Avoiding the crack, I fall into a rhythm, a soothing repetition. One foot then the other. Attempting to become perfectly symmetrical, but always noticing cause for concern. My stride I constantly attempt to adjust so that it strikes perfectly, but I'm no expert, and when eventually I think that my natural stride is probably the best, I've already forgotten what that is. So I continue on until my mind flits to the next thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cross the street where Western Psych is, I should know its name, but I don't. It's where the math and science buildings are. It's the home to a story, about a plaque dedicated to Marie Curie by a priest who would later become pope according to the bus tour script, which I can never figure out how to tell in an interesting manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon that's left behind as I reach the steps leading up to the Pete, two at a time, not to go quicker, but because I feel clumsy taking them one at a time, moving so slowly with such a flurry of motion. I get to the top, my breathing is heavier, I take a deep breath and let it out, trying to control my breathing but probably only interfering with my bodies instinctual and efficient method for delivering oxygen. Then I stop, I stretch, outside the gym, less awkward then on the floor in the gym, a moment more of peace away from everyone else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-115009212039424143?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/115009212039424143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=115009212039424143' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/115009212039424143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/115009212039424143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2006/06/stress-injury.html' title='Stress Injury'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-114958069021823436</id><published>2006-06-06T08:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T08:59:04.513+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise</title><content type='html'>A new entry, a late night, and a train of thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a long time. Blogs never come off as they should. Even as I say that, I don't know it. I often say things that are true, but which I don't know are true. If I knew it were true, I wouldn't continue to mess with them. Perhaps it's hubris, acting itself out in my belief that given enough time and enough attempts, I will be able to write a blog that doesn't make me cringe. The closest I have ever come is with minimalist content, which wasn't an artistic touch so much as a hesitant toe testing the waters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must be maturing slowly, or I have simply not allowed my thoughts to catch up with me in a few months; I just experienced the first stages of the "sophomore existential crisis." So helpfully explained at &lt;a href="http://www.honorspedia.org"&gt;www.honorspedia.org&lt;/a&gt; in the following entry:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Many students arrive at Pitt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;with an idea of what they intend on doing in both their education and their lives. At some point during &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sophomore Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; some of these students realize that they don't know or no longer desire what they previously did. All the philosophical readings they've done since they started their academic quest add to this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;mental anguish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; associated with a lack of direction and cause a greater breakdown. People suffering from this go through periods of apathy, questioning the value of what they do and care about."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am more unsure than ever about what I want to do. All I know is that I want to do something that I enjoy and which won't be pointless. If I'm to trust every movie I've ever seen on such things, the key is to realize that bold historic steps aren't the key to having a meaningful life, but rather the smaller things. I don't know where I stand on that. I want to do significant things. I want to leave a mark. I want to be successful, and if I've been indoctrinated in anyway since my youth, it is to believe that success is best measured in the eyes of another. I could never be a unbiased observer of my own success. Having taken philosophy classes, I know all of the easy philosophical outs regarding questioning the meaning of subjective terms like success and happiness, but that doesn't do much to reverse the real life education of more than a dozen years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To tell the truth, my life isn't bad at all, and I will probably be successful at studying law. What scares me is that I will become comfortable and complacent. My life has been a constant movement towards a goal, whatever it might have been at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what may concern me even more (other than my attachment to hyperbolic and tentative sentence construction) is that I may have the makings of a good attorney due to an "adaptable" moral compass. Absolutism has lost any sort of appeal for me, but at the same time I worry about slipping on the slope and losing the intangibles that make a man a good man. What absolutist battle cry should I take up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The practice of law is in service of others. Sometimes you certainly take cases for a greater cause and fight for the ideal, but more often than not (especially in the well paid areas) you are fighting a battle to secure the private interests of an individual or corporation that history will care very little about. You don't create anything as a lawyer, the only hope I would have is for an escape to politics and government. I'm not naive enough to think that government is some sort of capraesque world of idealistic service. It must be better though, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To tell the truth, I'm not sure what else I would want to do with my life. What career options do I have that take advantage of my skill set, and concurrently hold my interest. Law seems to be it for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking about writing short stories. My roommate last year once said I have a certain perspicuity in my descriptions, maybe I can use that. Probably not, but maybe it will hold my interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm probably simply tired, and will remember tomorrow which way is up, and which way is the road to an unhappy, overwrought philosophy of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-114958069021823436?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/114958069021823436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=114958069021823436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/114958069021823436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/114958069021823436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2006/06/surprise.html' title='Surprise'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-113315937529960651</id><published>2005-11-28T09:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-28T06:29:35.340Z</updated><title type='text'>Tipping Point</title><content type='html'>Thanksgiving went well for the most part. I made sure my friends from home still existed, though I spend an increasing amount of time catching up on developments of the past months rather than discussing current times. The bus ride back was less than enjoyable, it took longer than expected, but I did see Meredith at the rest stop for a brief moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been reading a lot more lately. A week or two before thanksgiving, I went and got a library card at the Carnegie Library. It is a beautiful building with a good selection. I am a man of novelty, and for the moment, the Carnegie Library is new. I have read "What Went Wrong" by Bernard Lewis, "The Case for Democracy" by Natan Sharansky, "As I Lay Dying" by William Faulkner, and "Old School" by Tobias Wolff (not to be confused with the movie). I enjoyed Lewis's book, but it was also an introduction to a lot of material I was unfamiliar with, so I can only speak to his writing style, which was clear. Sharansky is an interesting writer, he speaks from experience and with certainty of his positions. I am not sure I agree with him, but I respect his opinion, and I look at current international relations in a new light. I should look up an opponent of his to get a dissenting opinion, but it's so troublesome to find someone equally capable so that you can compare the ideas without being distracted by the presentation. "As I Lay Dying" was the first Faulkner piece I have ever read. To tell the truth, I enjoyed it without always understanding. It was an easy read, and I liked it a lot, but I did not get everything I could have from it. I think I need to take a shot at rereading it in the near future. I liked Wolff's work in parts, but I thought the beginning and ending both lacked a quality that permeated the middle. Perhaps the book is more realistic for its ending but I'm not sure it is better literature. It did feel me with the intent to write some fiction in my future, but I do not know how that will turn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I am trying to read "Salt: A World History" by Mark Kurlansky, but it drags on, and I'm getting to the point where I am trying to decide between cutting my losses and moving to a new book, or sticking it out to finish this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know how to capture a true emotion. I guess that's what makes one great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-113315937529960651?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/113315937529960651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=113315937529960651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/113315937529960651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/113315937529960651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/11/tipping-point.html' title='Tipping Point'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-112828601198909966</id><published>2005-10-03T00:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T21:46:51.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiatus</title><content type='html'>Shall I take a break? Not from my blog, I wouldn't care about your opinion on that, but there are other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After visiting my advisor the other day, I went on a day of rampant bragging. I apologize, and would mention more details, but that's rather self-serving and ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kinda concerned that ben puked blood in our shower, but it was salsa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, I felt terrible after a friday night of bad choices in drinking, and after arriving at the program for prospective students, I had to man the table for the pitt police because they didn't show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singing drinking songs on key is like being proud of not getting dirty playing mud football, good job, but you've missed the point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-112828601198909966?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/112828601198909966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=112828601198909966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/112828601198909966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/112828601198909966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/10/hiatus.html' title='Hiatus'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-112302947423239974</id><published>2005-08-03T04:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-03T01:37:54.240+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Soon</title><content type='html'>I finally ordered a new keyboard, it went on sale right before I ordered it from newegg, so it cost 7$ plus like 7$ shipping, so that's ridiculous in more than one way. This may be the last entry on the old keyboard. For some reason I had a nasty habit of spilling orange juice on it this summer. I would blame the breakdowns on that, if it hadn't already let me down in the past. Im trying to decide what I'll do with the old keyboard. No one has a blogger account, so no one is going to comment their suggestions. I guess you can IM me. On to other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly people are realizing that school is approaching. Like prairie dogs poking our heads out of holes, we slowly reinitiate contact in anticipation of the coming year. I like to think that I like where I am, wherever that may be at the moment. I loved school when I was there, and I love home when I'm here. Life is made of transitions and new frontiers though, so I always get a bit of wanderlust when an era is coming to an end. At the end of high school, I was ready to move on, at the end of school, I was less ready, but upon arrival at home, I found my friends and remembered all the good of home. Now I am ready to go back to college, there are still some things to finish at home, and days of hanging out, but now is the inevitable slide back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a related note, I attempted to contact panther central to find out about the layout for McCormick, but was unsuccesful. The man who took my call insisted that floor plans would not be up for some time, because the floor plans were still being used at the construction site. We cannot even be told, where the walls will be, and how large the rooms are. I suppose they may still be placing walls, but that seems unlikely to happen in the last month of a 15 month renovation. It turns out that no one at pitt has discovered a way to copy floor plans either, even preliminary ones. The only floor plans are needed at the site, so panther central cannot get them until the construction workers are done with them. You think someone would have told the designer to draw up two copies, just in case. I'm still trying to decide if it's worth my time to beat through the levels of bureaucracy to find out what is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from running at the gym, and I stink. I've been running much more regularly this summer. In the last three days, I've run 4 miles each day. My favorite gym shorts are taking a smelly beating. I don't bother washing them now, but I think they may finally get the treatment, because I need a break, I think I gave myself shin splints. Of course I might just use the elliptical machines. The Y has also decided to mess with me and every other runner. The gym area used to be arranged so that the ellipticals and running machines were arrayed around the outside, looking at the weight machines. This provided plenty of people watching for everyone, but they went and changed the system. Now, they took out some of the weight stuff and brought in more cardio machines. The bikes are at the front looking at a wall and window, with a wall behind it. Behind the bikes, are the treadmills, followed by the ellipticals and weight machines. Now I look at a wall, that is never interesting, while all the girls on ellipticals look at my butt. I find this unacceptable. Supposedly, televisions are going to be placed in the gym but I bet they'll just be more annoying, unless they pay for an excellent system like the one at the pete. Even then, the tvs aren't that great and I never bothered bringing headphones to listen. I'm also the sweatiest man ever. Some of you already know this. I don't sweat abnormally when I'm not exercising, but when I am running about, it is simply ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my mom I was finding out my text books so my dad could order them online, used. She told me just to preorder them, telling me that, my father and her had agreed that he was too unreliable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-112302947423239974?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/112302947423239974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=112302947423239974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/112302947423239974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/112302947423239974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/08/coming-soon.html' title='Coming Soon'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-112176136541025174</id><published>2005-07-19T12:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T09:22:45.416+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mall</title><content type='html'>I went shopping at the mall today, I wanted a perfect pair of jeans, but that was entirely too great of a demand. I wandered around for a bit before I decided to make use of the employees at American Eagle. I went up to one and asked if they had any jeans without whiskers. Whiskers are the fake fade lines that are sometimes put on jeans. Well I guess it now exceeds sometimes, because she seemed a bit perplexed by my question, perhaps wondering why I would forego such a great feature as whiskering. She eventually answered me though, "well... we might have some that don't..." Then she walked over to the jeans and pointed out a pair, "these only have faint whiskers." I'm not sure if she used the word faint, it seems out of place now that I think about it. I decided to go looking elsewhere, to which she responded "you're not going to find pants without whiskers anywhere." Unfortunately she was correct, I could not find any whiskerless jeans that I also wanted to wear. I eventually returned to the store and got a pair that only had faint whisker lines, at least I was able to select a different pair from the ones she highlighted, it was some solace for my pride. That brings me to the next problem. While checking out, it was the same girl who had helped me originally. As she was checking me out, she leaned forward and said "can you do me a giant favor?" At which point I inquired as to what the favor would involve. She attempted to sell me a keychain that supports an undisclosed and unknown charity, at least to this young flirting philanthropist. She stated that "it would really help her make her goal for units sold per transaction." I was a bit disgusted and turned her down which in her own words "killed her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere along my wandering journey through the mall I ended up in the Gap. After being grossly disappointed by their selection jeans, I checked out the clearance rack as any good american consumer must. There I foundnd the highlight of my shopping day. I have never worked in clothing retail, but I believe there is a certain life for clothing. It begins its life as a prominent display at full retail, in its correct season. Slowly the favorite colors and designs are purchased and it goes on sale every so often, to thin out the stock, slowly the less favored designs and colors are purchased as consumers are willing to buy them for less. Eventually the rejects are relegated to the clearance rack. Rejects are usually unfavorable colors which were mistakes by the manufacturer, ugly colors which are agreed upon by all, but today I found shirts that I liked and were colored in a non-depressing fashion. Having the colors of pink and red or purple on them seems to have dissuaded the general public from embracing them. For that, I say thank you to the homophobes. I like my new clearance shirts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-112176136541025174?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/112176136541025174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=112176136541025174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/112176136541025174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/112176136541025174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/07/mall.html' title='Mall'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-112176021385643873</id><published>2005-07-19T12:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T09:03:33.863+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Kwik Farms</title><content type='html'>The other day at work I did very little. There is no reason to do work between 2 and 10 and just about no one came in. I listened to all of the 6 cds I brought it, and I read quite a bit. If anyone has been reading the Fiction issue put out by the Atlantic Monthly, send me an IM, I've been looking for someone with whom to discuss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did assist two girls that came into the store. The two girls were my age and somewhat ditzy looking (perhaps this impression came at a later point, but that doesn't matter). One of them asked me whether we sell gas, at which point I just looked outside at the ten gas pumps and then returned my eyes to her. She then corrected herself by saying gas in a can. This was a slightly more reasonable question, so I informed her that we sell gas cans and are a gas station, but that didn't seem to penetrate. After two repetitions she understood the chain of events that would lead to her having a can of gas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-112176021385643873?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/112176021385643873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=112176021385643873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/112176021385643873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/112176021385643873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/07/kwik-farms.html' title='Kwik Farms'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-111965858984256487</id><published>2005-06-25T04:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T01:17:55.800+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Liar</title><content type='html'>Whenever my thickly accented boss, Mohammed, says the word lawyer, it sounds exactly like he is saying liar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time he's talking about my future as a liar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-111965858984256487?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/111965858984256487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=111965858984256487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/111965858984256487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/111965858984256487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/06/liar.html' title='Liar'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-111583969690590017</id><published>2005-05-11T23:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T20:28:16.910+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Fresh</title><content type='html'>My interview at Super Fresh consisted of a guy shaking my hand, telling me the starting pay rate, then asking me if I had a problem with taking a drug test.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-111583969690590017?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/111583969690590017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=111583969690590017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/111583969690590017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/111583969690590017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/05/super-fresh.html' title='Super Fresh'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-111551946660736609</id><published>2005-05-08T06:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-08T03:31:06.646+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Buddy List</title><content type='html'>I have slowly let my buddy list grow out of control. Now each addition corresponds to a deletion. Which one of you is next?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-111551946660736609?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/111551946660736609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=111551946660736609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/111551946660736609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/111551946660736609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/05/buddy-list.html' title='Buddy List'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-110955213548222412</id><published>2005-02-28T03:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-02-28T00:55:35.483Z</updated><title type='text'>Pink Lemonade</title><content type='html'>I spilled pink lemonade all over my mouse, also a logitech product, the other day. It worked fine through the rest of the night, but by the next day, when it dried it was no longer able to work. So I took it apart and cleaned it up, except it would only work for a little while then get sticky again. I used lysol wipes and water, but those were both ineffective. As it turns out Scope mouthwash is an extremely effective cleaning solution.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-110955213548222412?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/110955213548222412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=110955213548222412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110955213548222412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110955213548222412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/02/pink-lemonade.html' title='Pink Lemonade'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-110910514875068542</id><published>2005-02-22T23:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-02-22T20:45:48.750Z</updated><title type='text'>Keyboard</title><content type='html'>My numpad "2" and my down arrow key do not work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very funny, logitech.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-110910514875068542?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/110910514875068542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=110910514875068542' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110910514875068542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110910514875068542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/02/keyboard.html' title='Keyboard'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-110905332088524894</id><published>2005-02-22T09:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-02-22T06:22:00.886Z</updated><title type='text'>Sincerity</title><content type='html'>The other day I was talking with Ellie when Jess walks by the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an extension of the conversation with Ellie, I ask Jess whether "she thinks I have a problem being sincere?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess responds, "Is this a serious question?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-110905332088524894?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/110905332088524894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=110905332088524894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110905332088524894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110905332088524894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/02/sincerity.html' title='Sincerity'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-110879639290178828</id><published>2005-02-19T09:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-02-19T06:59:52.903Z</updated><title type='text'>Laundry</title><content type='html'>I ran out of laundry detergent, so I determined a trip to Rite-Aid was in order. Rite-Aid is sort of limited when it comes to laundry detergent so I settled on the 100 fl. oz. bottle, which seemed perfectly reasonable, except it was $9. Now below the $9 sticker was another that said 2/$10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am never going to use the 200 fl. oz. of detergent I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-110879639290178828?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/110879639290178828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=110879639290178828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110879639290178828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110879639290178828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/02/laundry.html' title='Laundry'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10543399.post-110832370233817512</id><published>2005-02-13T22:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-02-13T19:41:42.340Z</updated><title type='text'>3:30 am Outside the O</title><content type='html'>I was coming home last night after walking some people back to lothrop, when I decided to stop and get some O fries, because it always seems like a good idea at that hour. I am cutting between fifth and forbes ave by going down bouquet towards the O. As I am walking I notice a girl reverse parallel parking, in other words trying to extricate herself from a parking spot. Her window is down slightly for some reason. As she is pulling back her car, I hear the unmistakable light crunching noise of impact. I look over and laugh loudly enough that she can hear me, at which point she pulls out of the spot, and as she passes me holds her finger to her lips and says, "shhhhhh."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10543399-110832370233817512?l=kevin-kelly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/feeds/110832370233817512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10543399&amp;postID=110832370233817512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110832370233817512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10543399/posts/default/110832370233817512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kevin-kelly.blogspot.com/2005/02/330-am-outside-o.html' title='3:30 am Outside the O'/><author><name>Kevin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16466557607150221674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
