Tim Peterson's Blog

You’ve heard blurbs like this before, I daresay:

This incident, at least, was harmless, as the article concludes:

Why bring this up, you ask? Because in this case you can actually hear the other side of the story , from the perpetrator himself. An excerpt:

Read on for details.

A related piece: If you’ve ever wanted to know what would happen if you put dry ice in an airplane toilet (or even if you didn’t), look no further than this hilarious Salon article .

To complete the trilogy (though I won’t limit it to three) of stories featuring the same three people, I present the following, which occurred Saturday, July 22, 2006. I thought the night was amusing, so perhaps you’ll agree.

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(Amendment to the last sentence of July 8th: It wasn’t as hard as I thought.)

Earlier in the week Ruth had said that she’d be free and in town for the weekend. She hadn’t called by 1:30 or so, so I got online. She was on (said he’d just been thinking of me), and asked if I wanted to go to a baseball game for which Jackie had three tickets. It was between the Rochester Red Wings and the Louisville Bats. We agreed to meet at her house at 5. That we did, after I discovered I needed gas and did that first, thus messing up the directions I had to her house. They suggested we ride in my car because I’d fit better.

We arrived at Frontier Field and parked across the street. We got the tickets, which were free because of something Jackie had, and then went off to find food. Jackie was familiar with the area, so she directed us to a place to eat that was at the end of the bridge from which you can watch the laser shows at the falls. We ate at a table outside on the second floor porch, with a view of the bridge and falls. Jackie and I had chicken sandwiches of different sorts, and Ruth had a hamburger. We finished around 6:30 and headed back (the game had already started at 6:05).

As we walked from dinner to the stadium, Ruth, holding the tickets, asked who wanted which seat. She then shuffled them and we picked them. She got number 10, Jackie got 11, and I got 12.

Tim: (facetiously) Well, I didn’t want to sit next to you anyway.
Ruth: (sniffs) Aww, that’s mean!
(shortly thereafter)
Tim: (fakely dramatic) Actually, I’d love to sit next to you!
Ruth: You know, that reminds me. My aunt and uncle didn’t know I was coming back to their house this weekend until I called them when I was already on my way. My uncle said, “Shoot, I thought we’d gotten rid of you!” But of course he couldn’t just say, “Welcome home!” because that wouldn’t be like him.

We got to our seats around the end of the first inning. Our seats were somewhere above first base. I’ve never been to a baseball game before, so I tried to figure out what was going on somewhat. Ruth and I sometimes talked about random things, though Jackie didn’t have as much to say. Early in the game a ball flew nearby and hit a young girl on the bounce, and later a bat snapped and flew into an empty part of the stands. I noticed that a chunk on the top of the full-color video screen was broken (about a tenth of the area), showing black with some random colored dots in it. That’s the kind of thing where I wish I could fix it, since it obviously needs it.

About half way through the game someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw the two young sisters from church grinning shyly. I queried, “Where did you come from?” Ruth asked who they were, and I told her they were people from church. “Where’s everyone else?” I asked. She pointed three rows back, where their mother, brother, and another father and son from church sat.

Ruth: Now they’ll probably tease you for hanging out with girls.
Tim: Oh?
Ruth: They tend to do that to guys who don’t normally hang out with girls but then suddenly do.
Tim: Yes, I suppose that is the case [for me].

(It didn’t come to pass, since I never even talked to them on Sunday.) Soon after that, Jackie had her arm on the back of my chair so as to talk to people she knew in the row behind us. I wasn’t leaning back, so she wasn’t touching me, but it was there nonetheless. After a few minutes Ruth noticed and motioned for her to put it down.

Ruth: Jackie, you’re going to get him in even more trouble with the people at his church!
Tim: Maybe you two should switch seats after all…
Ruth: But I might put my arm behind you, too…
Tim: Even so, you noticed and she didn’t, so that says something.

(On the rare occasions when such teasing comes up (mostly online) I don’t really discourage it, since it’s usually amusing, not to mention completely false. So, it wouldn’t really bother me anyway.)

A few minutes later Jackie wanted to switch seats (perhaps so she could put her arm where she wanted), and Ruth eventually agreed. Ruth then proceeded to put her arm behind me on my seat. I looked at her reprovingly, and she removed it. Then I did the same to her for just a moment.

Ruth: Hey, I’m taken!
Tim: Well, so am I.

She turned away, but then a few seconds later, realizing what I had said:

Ruth: (shocked) What?? … Tell me about her!
Tim: Just kidding. … Maybe I should pretend to be taken, to keep the girls away.
Ruth: (contemplative) I’m not sure who would go for you…

Our team lost 6-4. Afterward, around 9:30, there was a Latino concert, which Jackie wanted to stay for (being of that sort herself, I believe). There was some sort of famous singer there. So, we walked to the other side of the field. It was rather loud, not to mention mostly in Spanish, so I didn’t particularly want to stay.

I can’t say that I’ve ever been around people who were drinking before, but there were some near where we were standing. Ruth pointed out that drunk people tend to do silly things and be more inclined to dance, and I noticed that many of those who were dancing were indeed holding cups.

We decided to leave around 10:45, though Jackie wanted to stay longer. I dropped them off at Ruth’s house without incident, and then headed home. I turned on the radio, and as I tried to sing along I noticed that my voice was a bit hoarse from having to yell all evening to be heard above the noise.

I mentioned this to Jessica online later:

<Jessica> What’re you up to?
<Tim> Writing about tonight.
<Jessica> Oh?
<Tim> There were some amusing conversations.
<Tim> In related news, I’m a bit hoarse right now.
<Jessica> Why?
<Tim> From yelling at two girls all evening.
<Jessica> LOL!
<Jessica> You’re quite the ladies man, Tim.
<Tim> And what does that mean?
<Jessica> It’s cute how you’re always with girls!
<Tim> Besides, I couldn’t help yelling, seeing as we were at a baseball game.
<Tim> I am not!
<Tim> I can’t help it if the only people who are kind enough to do things with horrible old me are girls.

Alas, she always seems to overreact (in a teasing sort of way) when I’m around girls.

Despite the fact that the game and concert were boring at times, the amusing conversations made up for it, so it was enjoyable overall.

We interrupt the previously-scheduled archival broadcast to bring you this breaking news from this morning!

I had a 10:15 appointment at LensCrafters to get checked for new glasses, since I’ve been having trouble seeing things at a distance. My dad took me, since he knows where everything is and what to do. After filling out a form and waiting for a while, it was finally my turn. They checked various things, and then put dilating drops in my eyes and sent me back out to wait. My eyes hurt somewhat from the drops, but a few minutes later I started feeling sweaty and sick. The last time I felt like this was a few minutes after getting a Hepatitis shot at the doctor’s a number of years ago. That time, I felt hot and sweaty and soon proceeded to throw up on the waiting room floor. This time, however, I knew what was coming and asked to go to their bathroom. I felt progressively worse, and knelt in front of the toilet frantically praying for it to stop. And it eventually did. I didn’t throw up this time, though I came close. (Thank you, Lord!) After composing myself again, I returned and soon was called to finish the examination. (My retinas looked fine, by the way.) Now, I’m wondering: Are there any doctors in the audience who can tell me what’s going on here? I figure either my body doesn’t like having foreign substances introduced into it (though these were through completely different means), or maybe it was the discomfort involved in said introduction (which seems slightly more logical), or perhaps just the knowledge that this occurred somehow caused a physical reaction.

We now return you to your regularly-scheduled programming.

Here we go with more rambling from Saturday, July 8th, 2006. Feel free to ignore it.

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In my life I always seem to have two distinct states of mind: Knowing what’s going on, and not knowing what’s going on. I very much prefer the former. Before I go somewhere or do something, I like to check all the details and make sure I know exactly when and where to do things, how to get there, and so on. I always try to figure out everything I’ll need to know beforehand. I don’t like diving into things without a plan. This is the way my life usually is. But then come the inevitable times when I don’t know what’s going on, and everything just happens without any planning or foreknowledge of how things should go. A prime example of this was Saturday night.

Around 8:15 Ruth IMed me. She said she was back in Rochester (from co-op near Syracuse) for the weekend, and asked if I’d like to go see a movie. She didn’t give much detail about her ideas at first, but I eventually found out that the projected venue was a drive-in theater about half an hour south of here. The movie Cars was on the menu, so I agreed to come. I’d already seen it with my family, but it’s a Pixar movie, so it deserves to be seen again. By that time it was getting late, so I quickly grabbed directions from Google Maps to her (aunt’s) house and ran out the door. Me being the inexperienced driver that I am and not being too sure of where I was going, I missed a few turns and had to backtrack. I was slightly confused about the road names when I got to the last turn, but thankfully I recognized the house from being there on the way home from the IV camping trip (though I wasn’t quick enough to avoid driving right past it the first time around).

Ruth and Jackie, her friend from across the street, were waiting for me in front of the house. We decided to go in my car, partly because it fits me better than her little 2-door hatchback, but also despite the fact that I’m not used to driving much. We left around 9:20, with Ruth, the back seat driver, giving me directions. Even so, I managed to miss two turns by not seeing exactly where the roads that I was supposed to turn onto were. (Note to self: I need new glasses.) These mistakes were, however, easily rectified.

When we arrived, I really had no idea what was going on or what we were supposed to do, so when we paid for our entrance I ended up leaving the talking to Ruth in the back seat. Apparently they show two movies in a row on three different screens, which I wasn’t aware of beforehand, so we opted for Superman Returns. The next task was to find a parking spot. It was kind of hard to do this while driving in the dark along gravel roads with unknown destinations, and having no idea where I was supposed to go or what would be a good place to park. In situations like this I tend to look to others to tell me what to do, which wasn’t always very helpful seeing as Ruth didn’t have too much better of an idea than I did. We did, however, manage to find a parking spot, and set up our chairs nearby. We missed the beginning of the movie, which probably explained a little more about the plot, but I managed to follow most of it despite the distractions incumbent with an outdoor viewing. Ruth had brought some cans of three Coke varieties, so we consumed those as well.

At the conclusion of the movie, we folded up our chairs and went back to the car. I, however, managed to forget that my unfinished Coke with Lime was still in the cupholder on my chair, so it spilled. When I noted this, Ruth asked if it had gotten on anything. I responded by merely saying, “My foot’s wet.” (But I was wearing flip-flops, so it was fine.) The plan was to watch Cars next, but that was on a different screen, so we had to move. Jackie was cold and wanted to watch from the car, so moving the car was therefore also necessary. We did so, again driving without knowing where we were going, and eventually found someone else to follow who seemed to be going in the right direction. We parked in a spot rather distant from the screen, but one which was near the bathrooms, which we then visited. When I came out Ruth said Jackie was waiting for her food order, so I walked out to scout for a better parking spot. (Meanwhile, the movie had already started.) I found a semi-vacant spot in the second row (and by that I mean there was merely a metal post in the way, for marking the rows). Having found it, I went back to the car, carefully moved it into position next to the stake (someone in a chair was willing to move a bit), and walked all the way back to get the others and bring them out. In contrast to the rest of the night, I was happier about this move than the others, because I was able to plan it out ahead of time by planning it on foot first.

Cars was good, naturally. This was my second time seeing it, but the girls’ first time, so I had the pleasure of knowing some of the funny things that were coming ahead of time, and then seeing their reactions. I tilted my seat back a bit, but it still wasn’t as comfortable as a regular movie theater. On the other hand, Ruth lay across the back seat, so she was probably less comfortable (though she didn’t complain). Some people left slightly early to beat the rush. I pointed out that the credits were good (not just scrolling text), so we watched them to completion and got out with no trouble at all.

The trip home was uneventful. (I didn’t miss any turns.) Ruth asked if my parents would mind that I was out so late (it was around 2:30 at this point). I said no, and recalled that the last time I had been out this late was when I was playing Scrabble with her and her boyfriend until 2 AM after IV a few months ago. Once at her house, I asked Ruth for the best way home, which was easier than the way Google gave me to get in. I got home almost exactly at 3 AM, the latest I’ve ever been out on my own (that I can recall).

I’m not spontaneous very often. But this was fun, despite being frustratingly contrary to my orderly nature. Hopefully I’ll find more opportunities to do things with friends in the future, now that I’ve actually got a few in real life. (Of course, Ruth is still on co-op for another quarter and a half, so it would be hard to do things with her, if I so desired.)

A few of you have already seen this, but I shall post it anyway for the sake of completeness. (And I tend to be rather detailed, so this is kind of long.) This is from the InterVarsity annual camping trip, March 5-6, 2006.

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Groups were to leave for Stony Brook State Park at 12:30, 5 and 6. I went at 12:30, with the likes of Christina, Emily, Steffens, Sench, Anti-Dan, Eric Rodems, Michael B., and Matt Marsh. We first stopped at Tim Horton’s for lunch (I had just a donut and pop). We set out just before 2. I rode in Sench’s convertible with Anti-Dan. Normally on car rides I’d just sit and think and observe, but the annoyance of the wind in my hair and the cold air kept me distracted so I couldn’t. After getting there we had to wait for a while to round up a ranger to show us where to go, so Anti-Dan was throwing his knives at a tree (he likes weapons of all sorts).

In the afternoon after arriving, when few people were there yet, I decided to find firewood. I climbed way up the hill behind the big campsite, and found 10 or so big old dead tree trunks, some 4-6 inches in diameter. I laboriously tossed them down and down and down the rather steep hill, eventually getting them all back. After cooling off, I continued by breaking them up into chunks suitable for burning. Steffens was using a saw, but I decided to take the physics approach. The longest ones I braced between two closely-spaced trees and pushed sideways, sometimes having to give it quite a run, until it broke. Once the wood was in liftable chunks, I swung them against a tree to break them, usually sending the piece flying within one swing. (Drew got some video of me doing these things.) Emily called over that it was amazing that I could break a tree with one swing. I paused for a moment, said something boringly explanatory, and wound up for another swing. Just as I started to swing, the next section of it broke off without even hitting the tree (having been fractured in the last blow). This caused Emily to burst into laughter (not to mention myself).

Later Emily was listening to an extremely long story of how one guy’s cruise with his family had gone completely wrong, in nearly every way imaginable. I and some others were listening too. He made some reference to something else I’d never heard of (no surprise there), and someone else responded. I, having no idea what they were talking about, apparently put on an amusingly quizzical expression, because the next thing I knew Emily looked at me and burst out laughing (again). She then said, “You are just making my day!”

Several people had brought baseballs and mitts, but no bats. So some people tried playing baseball amid the campsite with a bat-sized stick scavenged from my firewood pile. A girl was at bat, and when she swung the bat it connected with the ball quite nicely. So nicely, in fact, that it broke off the end of the stick. The ball didn’t go too far, but the end of the stick flew nicely, causing the fielder to duck. The best part was that Evan got a perfect picture of the whole thing. You could see her swinging, the ball in the air, the stick flying, and the guy ducking, all in the same picture.

At his end of the camp site Snyper had his own fire. He found a big log about 3 feet long and one foot in diameter and laid it across the fire. He then took a cupful of gas from a gas can he had for some reason and tossed it on the fire, producing a large burst of flame. Some others then reprimanded him for that, noting the tencendy of flames to follow gas fumes. He put it away, but in the spirit of adventurousness I suggested that he make a trail of gas on the ground to ignite. He replied, “Stop putting ideas in my head, Tim!” He’s the type that just might do something like that, were his sense of safety not still clinging to life. Later in the evening he was trying to cap off some rope ends (used for hammocks) by melting it. However, this rope happened to not be nylon, so rather than melting it just smoldered. I was sitting nearby, and called to him. “Steve!” “What?” “It’s a fuse…” He turned to look at me and said, “Stop it! You keep giving me ideas!” He then proclaimed to all nearby, “Just so you know, Tim Peterson is going to kill us all through my body.”

I woke up around 7. It had rained during the night, but had since stopped. Also, during the night some pranksters had stolen a bunch of people’s stuff that was left outside. There was much grumbling about this, as some people were missing shoes. The stuff later turned up in the girls bathroom across the bridge. Breakfast was pancakes cooked over the grill in miscellaneous pans. Some guys cook pancakes a lot in their apartments, so they took charge of making them. It slowly started raining, which eventually put an end to the pancake-making. Some people slept in and missed breakfast. We mainly packed up and stood around the fire in the rain. There was a large chunk of rotten log by the fire that was used for a seat, and it was decided to put this on the fire. To get it going, someone tossed a cupful of gas in, which worked rather well. The rain eventually stopped around 10.

The rest of my family decided to take a trip to my grandparents in Ithaca while I was gone. They dropped me off at RIT at 12:30 Friday to meet up with the first group heading out. However, I didn’t know when I’d be back, and they weren’t returning until before supper on Saturday. So, I said I’d try to find someone willing to take me the 20 minutes home from RIT. On the way there it occurred to me that Ruth might be able to do it, since she lives with her aunt, not at RIT, and in fact goes to Roberts Wesleyan College, which isn’t far from my house. (A number of people from there go to IV at RIT.) While standing around the fire in the rain on Saturday morning I asked her if that would be possible, and she said it was. She and a neighbor she invited along were riding with her boyfriend Ted, and there was room to squeeze me in too.

After packing the car the four of us decided to take a hike through the gorge. The trail down was closed, but, risking threatened prosecution, we headed down. The trail obviously hadn’t been completely cleaned off yet, as there were chunks of rock from the wall all over the place. There are several waterfalls along the stream, and at the second one we ran into another carload of our group. We stopped there for a while, and Ruth tried wading in it. Just below that waterfall the trail was blocked with a fence, because there was a big hole in the trail. We climbed on over, stepped around the hole, and continued on. When we got to the end where the swimming area and other things are there, Ruth wanted to take the rim trail back. Ted had gotten up late and didn’t get breakfast, so he just wanted to get back fast to head out and eat. Plus there would be a lot more stairs to take. Jackie has asthma, so she didn’t want to do that either. So, we went back the way we came.

It was after noon when we left the campsite, and we were the last ones out. Our first stop was the nearby Dansville, where we hunted around for food. We eventually found the food road, and ate at Burger King. The trip home was fairly uneventful. Ruth let me sit in front because of my long legs. At one point I looked back and saw that both girls appeared to be sleeping on each other. I quietly took out my camera and took a picture. I showed it to Ted, who gave it the thumbs up.

When we got back to RIT, Ted left us at Ruth’s car, into which we squeezed. We then went to Jackie’s house to drop her off, and from there across the street to Ruth’s aunt’s house, where she lives. She left me to talk to her aunt while she changed into nicer clothes, since she was going to a dinner at Roberts later that afternoon. Then I guided her to my house. She turned out to be the perfect person to get a ride from, since I live near Roberts and she had to go there anyway, making it but a short detour to take me home.

When Ruth dropped me off, I opened the garage door using the passcode device on the wall. I proceeded to head inside… but found that, to my dismay, the door into the house was locked. Note: This door is always unlocked. Always, that is, except for when we go on trips for a few days or more. I had assumed that it wouldn’t be locked, this being just an overnight trip the rest of my family had gone on in my absence, so I thought I wouldn’t have any trouble getting in. But it was locked. And I didn’t bring my keys, thinking I wouldn’t need them. (I hadn’t thought this far ahead while packing, and I’m not used to keeping keys and such with me at all times.)

I stood around for a minute to laugh and congratulate myself on my stupidity in getting myself locked out of my house. I then set to work looking for a way in. The doors were locked, and the windows on the porch were latched. After pondering ways to open either a door or a window, and lamenting the fact that I didn’t bring my makeshift lock-picking tools, I spied the unlatched inner windows of the second floor computer room. (It’s a split-level house, so it was at more like the 1 1/2th floor level.) Outside the inner windows, however, was a latched screen and storm window. I proceeded to grab the ladder and a piece of stiff wire from the garage. I bent the wire and stuck it through the screen so I could pull the latch toward me. It worked. Behind that was the storm window, which fortunately wasn’t latched. Finally, I slid open the inner window. I took off my flip-flops, climbed inside (avoiding the printer and radios on the table), unlocked the door, and continued my arrival home, having been delayed no more than ten minutes.

And that was my camping trip.