Welcome to in transit, a lame attempt at a homepage by Mark Danielson. This site contains a regular journal, photography, rants and other miscellaneous stuff. However, it does not contain information about quantum nonlocality.

Now, if you're still here after that, if you can read this, you're either accessing the site through a device like a screen-reader, have a very old graphical browser or are using a text browser like Lynx (university physics geeks, you're the cause of that first paragraph). You may want to consider downloading a graphical browser that complies with Web standards, such as Mozilla, Netscape 7 or Internet Explorer 6. (Then you'll get to see what this page is supposed to look like.)

By the way, if you have any suggestions on how to make this site more accessible, please e-mail me at mrbula@nonlocality.com.


[entry deleted]

 ) ) ) 

Buddy Hackett, dead at 79. (Or 78, depending on your news source.)


New rule, implemented this weekend: Mark is no longer allowed to go into Best Buy without adult supervision. Saturday evening I walked into the store at 494 and 35W intent on seeing if they had a specific photo printer I was intersted in. They didn't, so that should've been it, but I made the mistake of wandering around before leaving and now have three new DVDs in my collection: Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums and Chinatown. Those three disks alone resulted in much of my late Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon being wasted, not good considering the number of items I'd been planning on taking care of this weekend.

Among other things, I have a car to sell. Maybe I should consider restaring my online to-do list. (I still need to buy a bike, too.)

Thankfully, I did spend some time away from the television. On Saturday I helpled Amanda pack for her move to New York, and spent some of this afternoon hanging out with Diana, wandering and driving around the lakes. Beyond that, I read the paper and acted lazy.

It's going to be a short week. I'll probably be thankful for that.


Some people were asking, so...

I never thought I'd own a white car, but it was in good shape and had everything else I wanted1. (This would also be my first car with headlamp wipers.) The old 9000 is camped out behind it, back from the mechanic and ready to be scrubbed and sold. Turns out it had another problem with the catalytic converter. Yes, that would be the same nonstandard catalytic converter that was installed by the first mechanic I ever took the car to, and the same catalytic converter that caused three subsequent trips to other mechanics to get the exhaust system fully functioning again. I'm not suggesting the old car would've been problem free had I not made that ill-fated trip to Uptown Imports three years ago—there was the incident with the air conditioner, after all—but I've decided that if anything significant comes up with the new car, I'm going to the local Saab dealer.

stormy weather

Very strange weather today. At one point there were eight Minnesota counties with tornado warnings (not watches) at the same time. Minneapolis hasn't had much in the way of storms yet today, but it looks like we're about to get hit with one heck of a thunderstorm. I think I'm going to turn off the lights in a few minutes, crack the front windows and watch the show.

 ) ) ) 

It was a good weekend. Mel came up on Friday and camped out Saturday and Sunday. We did some tourist stuff, hit a bunch of restaurants, caught a movie, complained about life and generally had a good time. Amanda and (Madison) Lisa dropped by for a bit on Saturday, and on Sunday Lisa and I spent a couple of hours talking at the tea shop down the street from the apartment. (Lisa also dropped of a Dismemberment Plan poster from Ben, who caught their final Milwaukee show last Thursday.) While surveying a moderately spectacular accident that shut down westbound I-94 Saturday evening, Mel and I got an unexpected call from Diana and (Biker) Beth, and the four of us ended up in partaking in some convoluted conversation for about an hour early Sunday. There were a few moments of rest, too, but not many.

Aside from a very busy day at work, I spent much of Monday sleeping.

 ) ) ) 

It was interesting to see the Pioneer Press' anti-light-rail bias come out in the form of a headline today. "New buses sacrificed for light rail changes" was rather misleading, especially considering a paragraph appearing later in the article:

The changes will be paid for with $30 million in federal funds that would ordinarily be used to purchase buses over the next three years. With Metro Transit reducing service on dozens of routes because of budget cuts, money to replace old buses and buy new buses for expansion will be used to pay for the light rail changes instead. The budget cuts will take about 50 buses out of service and there is no need to replace them.

The headline made it sound like bus service was being cut in order to make the additions to the light rail system, when in fact it's not clear if LRT would've recieved the money had the bus system been fully funded.


I'm feeling better today. There's still a cough here or there, and I'm still tired, but overall I'm much better than I was earlier in the week. Good thing, too, considering Mel should be getting here in a half hour or so to camp out for the weekend. I'll be glad to see her. It's definitely been a while. The last time we hung out was when I headed to New York in the fall of 2001.


Doing my best to ignore the respiratory infection that's been bugging me since the middle of last week, I wandered up to First Avenue around 9:30 this evening intent on seeing The Dismemberment Plan's last show in Minneapolis. There were two opening acts, and after conferring with Ben figured a 10:00 start seemed reasonable. Well, it turned out I was more than an hour and a half early. In most cases I wouldn't even blink at an 11:15 start time, but considering the smokey nature of First Ave, I decided to wait things out at a nearby bookstore. A half block later I paused, hacked up much of my left lung and stood to ponder my situation for a few moments.

It's 11:00 as I write this. The Plan should be going on soon, and I'm home drinking tea. I want to be in a moderately healthy condition when I have a friend camp here this weekend, so I'm sure I'll approve of this decision a few days from now. Whether I'll approve of it a few years from now could be another matter.

 ) ) ) 

"Can you say that again? Your phone is cutting out."

"Actually, that was me."


The thing about getting rid of an old car is you're not just getting rid of a car; you're kind of getting rid of everything you did with it, too.


The Impala got me to college. The Ciera got me to work. The Caprice helped me through the suburbs, and the 9000 took me to Minneapolis. As far as my new car, I have no idea where it'll take me.


It's been a stupid couple of days. Yesterday found me home sick, as did today. As an added bonus, my car died on the way back from Walgreen's this afternoon. Then, when I tried to call a tow, my cell phone lost its signal.

I can't wait to see what happens next.

 ) ) ) 

The most annoying thing about the car situation is that just under a month ago not only had I found a number of good cars but had actually made an offer on one. That offer fell through—there was an unsettled lien from a previous owner—but there were a number of other good vehicles for sale as well. Then the apartment situation happened, and, faced with the unexpected prospect of moving costs, double-rent and another deposit, I made the decision to hold off on the car search. With my apartment lease officially settled as of Tuesday, I planned on restarting the car search this weekend. I'll still be looking for a car this weekend, of course, I'll just be doing it with a rental and, possibly, without the option of selling my old car to help cover the cost.


 ) ) ) 

In other news, I hate being sick, but I'm not quite sure I want to write about yesterday's escapades with phlegm and hydrogen peroxide. Maybe later.

 ) ) ) 

"What are you laughing about?"

"I'm just thinking that, unlike me, you have inhibitions. But, wow, when you're sick you really don't give a shit."



"I had a dream about you this weekend."

"Uh oh."

"You moved to a new apartment, with a roommate... And the roommate was a girl."


"And you asked me to help you unpack and move. I was putting clothes in your dresser, your underwear on one side, her's on the other side..."

"Uh, that would be something other than a roommate."

"But that would be a good thing, right?"

"Under [roommate] circumstances, probably not."

"Oh. Well, there were problems painting the dresser..."


"It was bamboo and we didn't know that the little handles pulled out..."

"A bamboo dresser?"


"Are you sure this was me?"

"Oh, you're saying you wouldn't own something like that?"

"I doubt it."

"Well we were having problems painting it."


"Well, that's when I woke up."

 ) ) ) 

"It's a pregnant candy bar."


"It's a pretty good candy bar."


"It makes me want to get coffee, though."


In somewhat of a strange coincidence, last week I had three people I haven't heard from in years decide to send me email for one reason or another. There was the friend from UW-River Falls who wanted my opinion on the design of the newspaper she's editing, there was another friend from the student paper at UW-Manitowoc, and there was the high school classmate who stumbled across my photo of our old school being torn down. I haven't had sufficient time to respond to anyone yet—this week has been screwed in was I can't or won't write about—but I suspect they'll all have replies by Tuesday.

I also have to send some rodent photos to Ben and Lisa down in Madison, but that's a different story.

 ) ) ) 

I had dinner with a friend at the Leaning Tower of Pizza over on Lyndale on Friday. While it wasn't bad pizza, I'm not exactly sure what all the hype was about. The food seemed average at best, and considering it's just a short drive to Pizza Luce, I can't imagine I'll try dragging anyone over there anytime soon.

Since I'm talking about food, for those who haven't heard, Aquavit closed its doors last week. It was kind of pricey, so I didn't eat there that much, but it was still one of my favorite restaurants in the Twin Cities. It'll be missed.

 ) ) ) 

"Can I ask you something?"


"How did you and _____ get together?"

"Oh, we met at _____."

"I know that. But how did you... happen?"

Pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know. Happen."

"I'm not quite sure what you're asking."

"Well, you know..."

"It's not like I went through a formal application process or anything."

"You didn't?"



Regret occassionally manifests itself in some very strange and unexpected ways.

 ) ) ) 

"I guess they name the servers after cities in Europe."

"So what'll they name the next one?"


"Oh, that'll go over well."

"It'll have to be a test server."

 ) ) ) 

My connectivity has been somewhat intermittent this week. I had a software upgrade fail on my home computer at about the same time Time Warner's cable Internet service tanked on Sunday, and it's taken me three days and a number of calls to get everything sorted out. I'm better now, although I'm not sure about my computer.

Speaking of things getting somewhat back to normal, I've signed a lease for my apartment for an additional year, so that episode seems to be over with. I think.


One of the caretakers was in the front hall when I walked in. "How are the new windows," she asked.

"Oh, the windows are nice. I just wish they'd get the screens in."

"I know. We've had other tenants complain about that, especially with all the bugs coming out."

"Yeah... Although I've had problems with creatures a bit bigger than bugs."

"Bigger than bugs?"

"There was an unfortunate incident with a bird earlier this week."

"Oh, Mark, I'm so sorry."

"It's no big deal. The cat found it pretty interesting, though."

Pause. "Are you a writer?"

"Well, I used to be."

"You could write a book about everything that's happened here."


in transit—a lame attempt at a homepage since 1996—is a service of Mark Danielson and nonlocality.com.
© 1996-2004 Mark Danielson. All rights reserved.