Last weekend I stopped by Best Buy to pick up some CDs I'd been meaning to get. On my way back to the car I realized there was a Skyline parked near mine. For the uninitiated, the Nissan Skyline is a very fast, relatively conventional-looking car sold only in Japan and a few other countries like Australia. They're very sought-after here in the US. They had a few in some of the Fast And The Furious movies.

I went to my car and grabbed my camera. As I was walking back to the Skyline, its owner walked up and started the car (from the right side, of course). We talked for a while (as I inconspicuously slid my newly purchased Phantom Of The Opera and Cats soundtrack CDs into my pocket) and I took a few pictures. Apparently, there's a relatively thriving drift scene in the area, and they regularly hold legal drift events at several nearby racetracks. They're relatively inexpensive, too — about $50 for a day of unlimited runs. Most road course events cost upwards of $100. The guy gave me some URLs for a few local websites to check out.

It's cool that there's fun driving opportunities here, and legal ones no less. Once I get around to converting my car to 5spd I'll definitely be checking out some of those events.

It's official — the Evo is sold, and I'm holding the check in my hands. As much as I loved that car, it's an incredible relief to be rid of the financial burden. I ended up letting it go for $23,000 — a ridiculously low price for that car, especially considering the inflated price of all cars in Puerto Rico. But I'm OK with that. The economy in PR is just not very good right now, and it was pretty clear that most people just couldn't afford to spend that kind of money on a sports car. And I did still get money back above what I owed on the car, so it's hard to feel too upset about the price.

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I made it to Clemson without too much trouble. They took their time carefully checking all of my computer and camera equipment at the airport, but after that they let me through without a fuss. The computer fit fine in the overhead bin, and the box I sent as luggage arrived without damage. That went surprisingly well.

Scotty picked me up in his gold automatic '82 MK2 Supra L-Type, which is good, because my stuff probably wouldn't have fit in the Civic. I had forgotten how much I like MK2 Supras. His gold '82 is a very pretty car, despite a few spots of rust here and there, and mechanically it's in great shape — it only has 82k miles, which is damn impressive for a 24-year-old car.

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I haven't posted in a while, I know. I've been busy making the preparations to move to Covington, LA — a town about an hour away from New Orleans. I'm excited as hell about the move — it's something I've been really wanting for years. I've already got an apartment in the same apartment complex as my friends Bryan and Cat. My move-in date is September 8. My car is up for sale — I'll be back in the good ol' cow-spotted Civic once I get back up there. I'm also giving thought to the idea of beginning to consider packing. Fortunately, I never really unpacked when I moved down here two and a half years ago. Most of my belongings are still in boxes, so it should be a much easier move this time around. Hooray for practically living out of a suitcase for two years.

In other news, today is System Administrator Appreciation Day. I don't need to be showered with expensive sports cars (that would hurt), but perhaps a peck on the cheek would be appropriate. You do like receiving your email, right? I'm just sayin'.

Since my grandparents are out of the island for a month and I have the use of their cars, I finally have an opportunity to get the damage on the passenger door of my own car fixed. Yesterday I dropped the car off at the body shop. It's kind of exciting to be finally getting it done. The guy said to call on Friday to see if it was ready. I was originally planning on claiming this repair work against my insurance, but it turns out that the cost is just barely above my deductable, so I'm not sure if it's worth it.

The guy was friendly and knowledgeable, which is very reassuring. I've always found it really difficult to find good car repairmen (whatever the specialty) that really know what they're doing. Back in Clemson, I had found a great exhaust shop — Glenn's Muffler Shop, in Seneca. I knew that if I needed anything done related to welding or tubing, they could do it well, cheaply, and with a great helpful attitude. I was sad to give that up when I left the area. This shop seemed to give me that same impression. We'll see how good the results are.

As I got out of my car at the photo lab, a guy walked over, checked out my car, and asked, "Which one is this?"

"It's a 2004 Lancer Evolution," I replied.
"Oh. It looks like the fast one."
"It, uh... It is."
"What?"
"It is the fast one."

I felt really awkward pointing that out. It reminded me of an interview I saw on TV years ago with the guy from The Prodigy. He talked about how he once went to a club with his dual mohawk thing, and people started making fun of him, saying, "Ha ha, he thinks he's the Firestarter!" He said, "I let them have their fun. What can you do? I couldn't say, 'I am the Firestarter.'"

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You find yourself in a 15mph race that ends in your untimely yet quite anticlimatic death.

Back in 2002, to combat the increasing popularity of illegal street racing in Puerto Rico (known as "La Fiebre", or "The Fever/Illness"), the government commissioned a movie to be made (called, simply enough, La Fiebre). The relatively low-budget film was sponsored by Pep Boys, Armor All, and Shell, all of which are featured prominently in the movie (and if you're anything of a car geek, you know why it's funny that Pep Boys sponsors the film).

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It's looking like Andrés will be borrowing my Civic (apparently featured in a popular yet surprisingly unfunny video on streetfire.net) for the six months or so he's going to be in South Carolina. Heh heh, sure, everyone makes fun of me for owning so many cars, but when someone needs something to drive, it's a different story, huh? :)

Yesterday was incredible. Gary (Irish), Greg (German), Andrés, and I rented a car and took a roadtrip up to the highlands. It couldn't have gone better, especially considering it was relatively unplanned. The weather even cooperated — yesterday was the only clear, blue, sunny day I've seen since I arrived.

We had planned to spend Saturday, the day before our excursion, making the preparations for the trip; determining a route, making the reservation for the car, etc. We did decide on a basic, flexible game plan, but the car reservation part kind of evolved into "making one phone call that didn't accomplish much."

Update: Greg prepared a map indicating the route we took, and marked all of our stops sequentially with numbers. Very cool of him. Here's the map.

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I spent pretty much every waking hour this weekend reworking the photo gallery. What a sad way to spend my time off — doing exactly what I do every day when I am working.

It's interesting — even as I checked my watch and realized I had been sitting on my bed in front of a computer for 12 hours straight, it didn't feel like work. It was actually kind of exciting, and what kept me going was the desire to see the result. Perhaps it's pretentious, but it really did feel just like a sculptor must feel as he works. It was very satisfying to start with something rough and ugly and steadily refine it, seeing it take shape in your hands, and watching it slowly come to resemble what you have in your head.

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My car has incredible handling, but that comes at a cost. Part of that grip comes from stiff, well-tuned suspension, but one of the biggest factors that contribute to a car's handling are its tires; they are your entire interface with the road. The Evo comes with very soft tires; the treadwear rating is 160. A numerically lower treadwear rating equates to a softer and usually grippier tire — race slicks have ratings of 60-80. Compare that to the tires on your Camry; they're probably rated 400 or more.

The downside of that, of course, is that stock Evo tires only last around 10,000 miles. Roughly three months ago I started noticing a marked decrease in my tires' grippiness, and realized with sadness that it would soon be time to replace them. However, cheap bastard that I am, I figured I could probably stretch them a little longer if I just drove carefully. They've lasted me this long; I just hit 12k miles last week.

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I just realized I have absolutely no idea what my horn sounds like. Thinking back, I can't remember a single time I've ever used it in the year that I've owned this car. For all I know, it could not even work. I think I tapped it once back when I first bought the car, and was curious whether it had that annoying, effeminate little beepy horn that newer cars all seem to have (I think it did). I don't know if that says that I'm a courteous driver, or that I'm timid and ineffectual.

Andrés and I made a midnight run to Walgreens to pick up a prescription my parents had dropped off earlier for my mom. On the way out of the parking lot, some guy in an SUV waves his hands and flags me down. Suspicious, I stop and roll down my window (inconspicuously shifting into first). He tells me he's got a magnetic oil plug for my car and asks if I want to buy it. I say no thanks. He explains that he's go an Evo as well, but it's in the shop getting painted. I nod my approval and drive off.

A minute later, I pull up to a stoplight where a cop has pulled someone over. I joke to Andrés that it'd be funny if I got pulled over, since my renewed license is supposed to be available tomorrow. A knock at the window. The cop asks me to pull in front of his car.

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