Countries I've visited; US states I've visited
This seems to be making the rounds, but I'm not going to bother posting a map since it would be mostly green. Look folks, I was born in Texas. Specifically, in Austin, TX which is pretty damn close to the middle of the state. I've always lived in Austin and to make things even weirder, I've always lived within a few miles of my childhood home. Now it takes a while to get from Austin to the border of Texas in any particular direction and if you are as adverse to flying as I am, you're limited by the amount of drive time it takes to get from point A to point B. And point B usually ends up residing still in the state of Texas when the only vacation time you get is a long weekend once and a while. I've been to Mexico. I've ventured into Oklahoma, Colorado, New Mexico and Louisiana. I once drove (rather than fly) to a conference in Washington, DC but all those states on the way were just a blur of scenery in my windshield while I hauled ass so I could spend three days locked up in a hotel conference room. Hardly qualifies as visiting, though I did skip out on a conference session so I could cruise the Smithsonian for a few hours. I learned my lesson on that trip and subsequently bit the bullet and took a plane to Las Vegas and Canada for other work-related conferences. But to catch a plane to just visit someplace for fun? Not likely to happen. Now I did say that if I won the lottery tonight that I would fly over to Ingerland and buy billy a drink at his favorite pub. But that's only because if I won the lottery, I could afford to fly first class so I wouldn't have to deal with someone's elbows poking into my ribs or the person in front of me reclining into my face, plus I could afford to drink enough booze that I wouldn't care that I was on a plane for gord knows how many hours. Rob, however, would not be joining me. There's no way in hell you'd get him to set foot on a plane to England, no matter how many "rocks, no salt" you poured down his throat. One of these days we would like to go to England and see where his mom's from and maybe give some of the long lost relatives a good scare, but we haven't figured out how we'd get there. I won't set foot on a cruise liner. Oceanic cruises scare me far more than planes do (I blame The Poseidon Adventure.) Rob won't set foot on a plane. And as of yet, there's no way to drive to England from here. Damn.
Saturday, January 31, 2004
The return of a family tradition.
Starting the very first week after Rob and I hooked up and became a couple, we have had a tradition of having dinner (or lunch or brunch) at our favorite restaurant and then heading over to Waterloo to buy music CDs, usually around payday or sometimes, just cuz. I had always made a nice salary and music is a very important part of our life so instead of vacations in the Cayman Islands, we spent that kind of money on CDs. After I lost my job, we didn't feel like we had the money to spare and quite frankly, our CD collection was large enough that we had no lack of music to spin in the CD player over this last year. But there's so much more music out there and so today, after I got home from my new job, we headed over to Waterloo to celebrate. Just like always, Rob headed for the new CD section and I high-tailed it over to the used bin. I just can't bring myself to buy a CD new unless it's something I really want and I've already searched the used bin for years with no luck. This new purchase is usually reserved for old stuff that I once had on vinyl and left in the possession of the ex-husband (who ended up with everything but some of my clothes, a few books and some trinkets from my childhood, but that's a story for another day.) I like to shop the used bin because, in my mind, it means I can take a chance on unfamiliar music. Maybe I've heard of this band, or maybe I have some of their stuff, but don't know if this particular release is crap or not. Or maybe I've never heard of them at all, but the cover artwork is intriguing. For $6 or less, I'll give it a try. Or if it's something I know that I want or has at least one song that I really like than I might spend as much as $9 on it. As far as I'm concerned, the used bin is a lot more fun than the new racks. Rob, on the other hand, is much better at knowing exactly what he wants and doesn't mind paying the full price for it. In all the years that we've done this, he's only returned a CD once. I've ended up with some weird stuff, but nothing I've ever wanted to return. Here's what we scored tonight:
Rob bought:
Thin White Rope - Moonhead (he has this on vinyl)
Johnny Cash - American IV: The Man Comes Around
Ann bought:
Montrose - Paper Money (my ex has my vinyl copy)
Cracker - Forever (never heard it, but I have other Cracker CDs)
Megadeth - Risk (also never heard it, but I have lots of Megadeth from the old days)
We're working our way through them in that order with Montrose now playing so I have no idea yet how I did with the Cracker or Megadeth. But heck, at only $6 each, it would have to be pretty awful for me to take it back.
UPDATE: About half the songs on the Cracker CD I've heard before and liked. Yes, there's a list of the song titles on the back of the CD, but I couldn't read the tiny print because I'm old and need glasses.
UPDATE TWO: The Megadeth is a mixed bag. A couple of kick ass songs, but some also some stuff that sounded more like Bon Jovi and one song that reminded Rob and I of Brownsville Station (should you need to ask, neither of those comparisons are meant as a compliment.) Rob's currently washing off the distasteful Megadeth with a bit of Psychedelic Furs and while I probably would have grabbed some old Slayer instead, his choice is doing the job just fine.
Starting the very first week after Rob and I hooked up and became a couple, we have had a tradition of having dinner (or lunch or brunch) at our favorite restaurant and then heading over to Waterloo to buy music CDs, usually around payday or sometimes, just cuz. I had always made a nice salary and music is a very important part of our life so instead of vacations in the Cayman Islands, we spent that kind of money on CDs. After I lost my job, we didn't feel like we had the money to spare and quite frankly, our CD collection was large enough that we had no lack of music to spin in the CD player over this last year. But there's so much more music out there and so today, after I got home from my new job, we headed over to Waterloo to celebrate. Just like always, Rob headed for the new CD section and I high-tailed it over to the used bin. I just can't bring myself to buy a CD new unless it's something I really want and I've already searched the used bin for years with no luck. This new purchase is usually reserved for old stuff that I once had on vinyl and left in the possession of the ex-husband (who ended up with everything but some of my clothes, a few books and some trinkets from my childhood, but that's a story for another day.) I like to shop the used bin because, in my mind, it means I can take a chance on unfamiliar music. Maybe I've heard of this band, or maybe I have some of their stuff, but don't know if this particular release is crap or not. Or maybe I've never heard of them at all, but the cover artwork is intriguing. For $6 or less, I'll give it a try. Or if it's something I know that I want or has at least one song that I really like than I might spend as much as $9 on it. As far as I'm concerned, the used bin is a lot more fun than the new racks. Rob, on the other hand, is much better at knowing exactly what he wants and doesn't mind paying the full price for it. In all the years that we've done this, he's only returned a CD once. I've ended up with some weird stuff, but nothing I've ever wanted to return. Here's what we scored tonight:
Rob bought:
Thin White Rope - Moonhead (he has this on vinyl)
Johnny Cash - American IV: The Man Comes Around
Ann bought:
Montrose - Paper Money (my ex has my vinyl copy)
Cracker - Forever (never heard it, but I have other Cracker CDs)
Megadeth - Risk (also never heard it, but I have lots of Megadeth from the old days)
We're working our way through them in that order with Montrose now playing so I have no idea yet how I did with the Cracker or Megadeth. But heck, at only $6 each, it would have to be pretty awful for me to take it back.
UPDATE: About half the songs on the Cracker CD I've heard before and liked. Yes, there's a list of the song titles on the back of the CD, but I couldn't read the tiny print because I'm old and need glasses.
UPDATE TWO: The Megadeth is a mixed bag. A couple of kick ass songs, but some also some stuff that sounded more like Bon Jovi and one song that reminded Rob and I of Brownsville Station (should you need to ask, neither of those comparisons are meant as a compliment.) Rob's currently washing off the distasteful Megadeth with a bit of Psychedelic Furs and while I probably would have grabbed some old Slayer instead, his choice is doing the job just fine.
Well they call me the workin' man, I guess that's what I am
It's been a long time since I had to get up by the alarm and get ready for work, so long that I don't even hear the alarm any more so Rob had to shake me awake this morning. The coffee routine continued after I was unemployed so that was a cinch, but morning shower, finding something to wear... I got up REAL early just in case there was an unexpected hitch. And there was because it was fekking COLD in the house this morning. Not Canadian cold, but cold enough to make me wish I could just go back under the covers because I forgot to turn the heater on in the front room last night, oops. So I bundled up, cranked the heater up in the bathroom and started pounding down coffee while the place warmed up. I considered skipping the shower since I had one last night, but I'm cursed with naturally curly hair. Yes, that's CURSED. Those of you wishing for naturally curly hair, please don't wish for that when you find a genie in a bottle, wish for a more permanent perm instead. You see, when I wake up in the morning, my naturally curly hair is a matted mess of frizz, sticking out in a variety of directions. After I drag a comb through it, it's a somewhat straightened mess of frizz that now sticks out in ALL directions. The only cure for this is to get it wet, slather on some conditioner and let it drip dry. And don't point that hair dryer at me, even with a fancy diffuser attachment, unless you want me to look like the Bride of Frankenstein. This drip dry process can take as long as three hours on a humid day and has resulted more than once in a write up at work for showing up with wet hair. Yes folks, some bosses are THAT persnickety. I'd have done better to call in sick than to walk in with wet hair, it was such a heinous crime. But enough nervous chattering here, it's time to take off (with mostly dry hair) to start me first day on the job....
It's been a long time since I had to get up by the alarm and get ready for work, so long that I don't even hear the alarm any more so Rob had to shake me awake this morning. The coffee routine continued after I was unemployed so that was a cinch, but morning shower, finding something to wear... I got up REAL early just in case there was an unexpected hitch. And there was because it was fekking COLD in the house this morning. Not Canadian cold, but cold enough to make me wish I could just go back under the covers because I forgot to turn the heater on in the front room last night, oops. So I bundled up, cranked the heater up in the bathroom and started pounding down coffee while the place warmed up. I considered skipping the shower since I had one last night, but I'm cursed with naturally curly hair. Yes, that's CURSED. Those of you wishing for naturally curly hair, please don't wish for that when you find a genie in a bottle, wish for a more permanent perm instead. You see, when I wake up in the morning, my naturally curly hair is a matted mess of frizz, sticking out in a variety of directions. After I drag a comb through it, it's a somewhat straightened mess of frizz that now sticks out in ALL directions. The only cure for this is to get it wet, slather on some conditioner and let it drip dry. And don't point that hair dryer at me, even with a fancy diffuser attachment, unless you want me to look like the Bride of Frankenstein. This drip dry process can take as long as three hours on a humid day and has resulted more than once in a write up at work for showing up with wet hair. Yes folks, some bosses are THAT persnickety. I'd have done better to call in sick than to walk in with wet hair, it was such a heinous crime. But enough nervous chattering here, it's time to take off (with mostly dry hair) to start me first day on the job....
Eeewww...rats!
I'll be glad when this page goes to archives and I don't have to look at that rat photo anymore. Rob's post was probably inspired by the fact that I noticed last night we had acquired another unwelcome house guest. It seems every time the temperature drops below 40 degrees at night, some rat finds a new spot that we haven't found yet where they can chew a hole in the house and move in.
I'm not the kind of person who jumps on a chair and makes weird noises when I see a rat. I'm more likely to try and throw something at it or reach for the pellet gun, but I never manage to hit my target so, for me, traps are the best way to go. Rats, by the way, do not like cheese. It's mice that like cheese and oh how I wish I was dealing with mice instead since they are much easier to trap. Rats, at least the rats around here, are too smart to fall prey to the snap traps. I had, at one time, a wonderful trap that electrocuted them. Unfortunately it stopped working after.. well, never mind the details, but it was my fault. If you looked at the price on that thing, you'll see why we haven't bought another one. Between the miserable failure of snap traps and my lack of sharpshooting skills, I had to resort to glue traps even though I think these are excessively cruel. However, I don't use them the way most people do. I only set them out when I'm at home and can shoot the rat as soon as it gets stuck (trust me, you'll hear it when a rat gets stuck on one of these.) I still prefer that Rat Zapper though and now that we have the home improvement money I can buy another one to use while we are fixing all the spots that let them get in the house in the first place.
I'll be glad when this page goes to archives and I don't have to look at that rat photo anymore. Rob's post was probably inspired by the fact that I noticed last night we had acquired another unwelcome house guest. It seems every time the temperature drops below 40 degrees at night, some rat finds a new spot that we haven't found yet where they can chew a hole in the house and move in.
I'm not the kind of person who jumps on a chair and makes weird noises when I see a rat. I'm more likely to try and throw something at it or reach for the pellet gun, but I never manage to hit my target so, for me, traps are the best way to go. Rats, by the way, do not like cheese. It's mice that like cheese and oh how I wish I was dealing with mice instead since they are much easier to trap. Rats, at least the rats around here, are too smart to fall prey to the snap traps. I had, at one time, a wonderful trap that electrocuted them. Unfortunately it stopped working after.. well, never mind the details, but it was my fault. If you looked at the price on that thing, you'll see why we haven't bought another one. Between the miserable failure of snap traps and my lack of sharpshooting skills, I had to resort to glue traps even though I think these are excessively cruel. However, I don't use them the way most people do. I only set them out when I'm at home and can shoot the rat as soon as it gets stuck (trust me, you'll hear it when a rat gets stuck on one of these.) I still prefer that Rat Zapper though and now that we have the home improvement money I can buy another one to use while we are fixing all the spots that let them get in the house in the first place.
Friday, January 30, 2004
AM I ON A ROLL OR WHAT? WHAT?
We have a rat problem...rats,in the house...getting into our shit and generally making a mess of things.I don't like them,they chewed off
Mauricios back legs and chewed out his eyes. It was horrible,I loved him...he was so beautiful...I felt responsible,he was fine in the back yard in his pen,I brought him in for the winter and the fucking rats got him. It was time for some payback.
I have some pellet guns....one is a rifle that has the muzzle velocity of a .22 rifle,one is a Co2 powered pistol that has 1/2 the muzzle velocity of a 22.
Some people put out traps (I did this),some people put out glue traps (I did this as well) some people put out poison(I did'nt do this because I hate the smell of dead things rotting inside my walls and I have dogs).
I changed the bulbs in the lights in that part of the house to red (rats can't see in red)
and loaded up my guns...I was gonna get the rat thet killed my baby.
And I did,he was huge...when I said rats I meant rats...these are wood rats...big fuckers that come up from the field behind our house looking for a hand out.
One of my buds from work who was in the army gave me one of his sniper patches
for the number of rats I dispatched with my beeman rifle. I was on a roll
I would sit in the darkness behind the glow of the red bulbs and wait...like Jude Law in enemy at the gates, and when the enemy would show itself...BLAM!
This is the bitch that killed my Mauricio...I baited his pen and got his ass!
I racked up at least 10 confirmed kills that winter...Irene got 3 or 4...she was awesome at hunting down and killing rats
. The only problem was she would leave "half rats" on the bed or some other place when she was done with them...sometimes she would swallow them whole,especially when I would try to get them from her...ugh....but she was my back up,another reason she's my girl...hates rats,right on!
I hate fucking rats....
I hate fucking rats and they have figured it out apparently...we went from many to one or two on occaision
We have a rat problem...rats,in the house...getting into our shit and generally making a mess of things.I don't like them,they chewed off
Mauricios back legs and chewed out his eyes. It was horrible,I loved him...he was so beautiful...I felt responsible,he was fine in the back yard in his pen,I brought him in for the winter and the fucking rats got him. It was time for some payback.
I have some pellet guns....one is a rifle that has the muzzle velocity of a .22 rifle,one is a Co2 powered pistol that has 1/2 the muzzle velocity of a 22.
Some people put out traps (I did this),some people put out glue traps (I did this as well) some people put out poison(I did'nt do this because I hate the smell of dead things rotting inside my walls and I have dogs).
I changed the bulbs in the lights in that part of the house to red (rats can't see in red)
and loaded up my guns...I was gonna get the rat thet killed my baby.
And I did,he was huge...when I said rats I meant rats...these are wood rats...big fuckers that come up from the field behind our house looking for a hand out.
One of my buds from work who was in the army gave me one of his sniper patches
for the number of rats I dispatched with my beeman rifle. I was on a roll
I would sit in the darkness behind the glow of the red bulbs and wait...like Jude Law in enemy at the gates, and when the enemy would show itself...BLAM!
This is the bitch that killed my Mauricio...I baited his pen and got his ass!
I racked up at least 10 confirmed kills that winter...Irene got 3 or 4...she was awesome at hunting down and killing rats
. The only problem was she would leave "half rats" on the bed or some other place when she was done with them...sometimes she would swallow them whole,especially when I would try to get them from her...ugh....but she was my back up,another reason she's my girl...hates rats,right on!
I hate fucking rats....
I hate fucking rats and they have figured it out apparently...we went from many to one or two on occaision
IS THAT A HORSE'S HEAD IN MY BED,OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?
I was in a foul almost all day today.I just didn't feel right,or happy,or anything remotely positive. A couple of people even asked me if I was alright at work today...this never happens (because I'm usually not shy about sharing the nature of the bug in my ass).
I just couldn't figure this particular bug out.
For all intents and purposes I should be walking around with a shit eating grin on my face and hugging everyone who comes into the shop,employee or not.It was a mood so foul I could feel it in my forehead,my scowl was obstructing my sight.
Was it the rocks no salt? No...I've suffered the aftermath of these many times,that wasn't it.
Was it the chipotle shrimp stuffed avacado I had for dinner? I'm sure the burn was contributing...but that wasn't it either. I knew when I was eating it,I would pay for it the next day,but damn it was tasty!
But then I had a...oh, whats it called?Oh yeah,a moment of clarity.
I don't have anything to be worried about.
I can't remember a day in the last couple of years when I wasn't worrying about something....Losing the house,losing the car,the IRS swooping down to break it off in us, will my son turn into the biggest loser of all time?Where will we find a box to live in big enough to hold us,three dogs and thirty turtles?
Suddenly,there was nothing to worry about,that black cloud that had been following me around forever was now a less threatening grey with some honest to god sunshine peeking through.
I'm so used to being in survival mode I guess I'm in shock.
Once the house reno gets rolling I'm sure I'll get over it...
Creatures of habit indeed......
I was in a foul almost all day today.I just didn't feel right,or happy,or anything remotely positive. A couple of people even asked me if I was alright at work today...this never happens (because I'm usually not shy about sharing the nature of the bug in my ass).
I just couldn't figure this particular bug out.
For all intents and purposes I should be walking around with a shit eating grin on my face and hugging everyone who comes into the shop,employee or not.It was a mood so foul I could feel it in my forehead,my scowl was obstructing my sight.
Was it the rocks no salt? No...I've suffered the aftermath of these many times,that wasn't it.
Was it the chipotle shrimp stuffed avacado I had for dinner? I'm sure the burn was contributing...but that wasn't it either. I knew when I was eating it,I would pay for it the next day,but damn it was tasty!
But then I had a...oh, whats it called?Oh yeah,a moment of clarity.
I don't have anything to be worried about.
I can't remember a day in the last couple of years when I wasn't worrying about something....Losing the house,losing the car,the IRS swooping down to break it off in us, will my son turn into the biggest loser of all time?Where will we find a box to live in big enough to hold us,three dogs and thirty turtles?
Suddenly,there was nothing to worry about,that black cloud that had been following me around forever was now a less threatening grey with some honest to god sunshine peeking through.
I'm so used to being in survival mode I guess I'm in shock.
Once the house reno gets rolling I'm sure I'll get over it...
Creatures of habit indeed......
THE FRIDAY FIVE:
You have just won one million dollars:
1. Who do you call first?
Ann,unless she was with me when I won...then it would be nobody
2. What is the first thing you buy for yourself?
Rocks,no salt...lot's of them :)
3. What is the first thing you buy for someone else?
a) A ranch in New Mexico for Ann
b) A completely restored and tricked out '55 Chevy Belair 2 door for my son
4. Do you give any away? If yes, to whom?
Yes...to a variety of turtle rescue/conservation organizations.
5. Do you invest any? If so, how?
Yes...real estate in south austin.
You have just won one million dollars:
1. Who do you call first?
Ann,unless she was with me when I won...then it would be nobody
2. What is the first thing you buy for yourself?
Rocks,no salt...lot's of them :)
3. What is the first thing you buy for someone else?
a) A ranch in New Mexico for Ann
b) A completely restored and tricked out '55 Chevy Belair 2 door for my son
4. Do you give any away? If yes, to whom?
Yes...to a variety of turtle rescue/conservation organizations.
5. Do you invest any? If so, how?
Yes...real estate in south austin.
And the winner is...
I'll be damned. For once I won something - the "no prize" for being the 20,000 visitor at billy's blog. I'd normally drink an extra amount of Shiner Bock tonight to celebrate, but I start my new job tomorrow so I'll have to save that for some other time. I won't usually work on weekends, but the rest of the staff do and I just realized that I forgot to mention in my list of cool things about the job that I will have a four day work week. Yep, while the rest of the working world is dragging themselves to work with a hangover on Mondays, I'll be sleeping in because the place is closed. It's also closed on Tuesday, but that is the office "quiet day" so I'll be there, but no one else will. A job with an ENTIRE "quiet day"? I think I must have died and gone to heaven.
I'll be damned. For once I won something - the "no prize" for being the 20,000 visitor at billy's blog. I'd normally drink an extra amount of Shiner Bock tonight to celebrate, but I start my new job tomorrow so I'll have to save that for some other time. I won't usually work on weekends, but the rest of the staff do and I just realized that I forgot to mention in my list of cool things about the job that I will have a four day work week. Yep, while the rest of the working world is dragging themselves to work with a hangover on Mondays, I'll be sleeping in because the place is closed. It's also closed on Tuesday, but that is the office "quiet day" so I'll be there, but no one else will. A job with an ENTIRE "quiet day"? I think I must have died and gone to heaven.
Thursday, January 29, 2004
One foot on the road to remodeling hell...
Come Tuesday, the money will be available. This house, after 40 years, shows the expected wear and tear that cheap construction and fixtures are bound to have. We didn't borrow enough to do everything we'd like to do so we are going to have to stay really focused and not wander off track. However much we might want that surround sound system, it's not part of the improvements we need so we can't buy it, no matter what the sale price might be.
Kitchen and bath are the first priority, but this is a small house with only one tiny bathroom so those home improvement shows that have folks living in one part of the house while the rest is under construction is not an accurate depiction of what will happen here. No, come destruction and construction time we will be living in our backyard in a tent, cooking on the grill, showering with the "sun shower" from our camping gear and using one of those portable toilets you see at construction sites or outdoor concerts. Needless to say, we will NOT being doing any of this next month when temps are as likely to be in the 30s as they are in the 70s. And Austin rarely has a spring season, so it's going to be a very tricky timing act. Start too early and we will freeze our asses off. Start too late and we'll be hot as hell. More than likely, if we schedule this for the "spring" then we'll be alternating between both as well as dealing with a lot of rain. Fortunately, Rob and I are old hands at camping and it's not going to be the ordeal for us that it might be for many other people. We have the advantage of a very large covered deck in our backyard which can be used for cooking, eating and hanging out in the evenings. In the event that we get one of those "horizontal" rain storms, we can put up tarps and still stay dry. Or retreat to the tent. Our tent is big enough to provide sleeping space for two adults and three dogs, a clothesrack, a TV, a computer and a small table. It's a BIG tent. As for cooking, in addition to years of extensive camping experience, we have also been without a working stove for a while and trust me, we can cook everything you might want to ever cook on our grill using charcoal or wood. In fact, the grill makes much better home-made pizza than the gas oven ever did.
But enough about the future. Let me tell you what's on the agenda for February which I'm sure is going to be a far bigger ordeal than the remodeling experience. We need to go through all our years of accumulated "stuff" and get rid of well over half of it. We have way too much "stuff". And I'm not talking furniture here. I have six computers, three of which are just gathering dust, an amazing number of broken keyboards, trackballs and mice, tons of software that I'll never use again complete with the original packaging/boxes (why am I hanging onto that first version of Microsoft Word which is a DOS version?) I have an old SCSI scanner that I never use, three old printers (also unused) and that's just the tip of the iceberg. We've got amps, drums, extra PA equipment, and guitars out the whazoo. The guitars aren't going anywhere, but I think we can shed some of this other stuff. Do we really need that commercial cassette dubbing thingie? We don't do cassettes anymore, it's all CDs these days. And then there's the paper trail. Boxes and boxes of bills and receipts and check copies and what-have-you. Yeah, keep it for seven years, but it's high time to go through it all and shred or burn what's older than that. I didn't have the sense to date mark any of the boxes and there's always those few things you need to keep past seven years (like a marriage license) which means sifting through all of it. Ugh. I get the feeling that February isn't near enough time to tackle all of this. I'm tempted to just rent a storage unit and ship all this crap over there and deal with it later... better yet, just leave it all there and add to it year after year until I'm dead and buried! Let the kid deal with it then, heheheheh....
Come Tuesday, the money will be available. This house, after 40 years, shows the expected wear and tear that cheap construction and fixtures are bound to have. We didn't borrow enough to do everything we'd like to do so we are going to have to stay really focused and not wander off track. However much we might want that surround sound system, it's not part of the improvements we need so we can't buy it, no matter what the sale price might be.
Kitchen and bath are the first priority, but this is a small house with only one tiny bathroom so those home improvement shows that have folks living in one part of the house while the rest is under construction is not an accurate depiction of what will happen here. No, come destruction and construction time we will be living in our backyard in a tent, cooking on the grill, showering with the "sun shower" from our camping gear and using one of those portable toilets you see at construction sites or outdoor concerts. Needless to say, we will NOT being doing any of this next month when temps are as likely to be in the 30s as they are in the 70s. And Austin rarely has a spring season, so it's going to be a very tricky timing act. Start too early and we will freeze our asses off. Start too late and we'll be hot as hell. More than likely, if we schedule this for the "spring" then we'll be alternating between both as well as dealing with a lot of rain. Fortunately, Rob and I are old hands at camping and it's not going to be the ordeal for us that it might be for many other people. We have the advantage of a very large covered deck in our backyard which can be used for cooking, eating and hanging out in the evenings. In the event that we get one of those "horizontal" rain storms, we can put up tarps and still stay dry. Or retreat to the tent. Our tent is big enough to provide sleeping space for two adults and three dogs, a clothesrack, a TV, a computer and a small table. It's a BIG tent. As for cooking, in addition to years of extensive camping experience, we have also been without a working stove for a while and trust me, we can cook everything you might want to ever cook on our grill using charcoal or wood. In fact, the grill makes much better home-made pizza than the gas oven ever did.
But enough about the future. Let me tell you what's on the agenda for February which I'm sure is going to be a far bigger ordeal than the remodeling experience. We need to go through all our years of accumulated "stuff" and get rid of well over half of it. We have way too much "stuff". And I'm not talking furniture here. I have six computers, three of which are just gathering dust, an amazing number of broken keyboards, trackballs and mice, tons of software that I'll never use again complete with the original packaging/boxes (why am I hanging onto that first version of Microsoft Word which is a DOS version?) I have an old SCSI scanner that I never use, three old printers (also unused) and that's just the tip of the iceberg. We've got amps, drums, extra PA equipment, and guitars out the whazoo. The guitars aren't going anywhere, but I think we can shed some of this other stuff. Do we really need that commercial cassette dubbing thingie? We don't do cassettes anymore, it's all CDs these days. And then there's the paper trail. Boxes and boxes of bills and receipts and check copies and what-have-you. Yeah, keep it for seven years, but it's high time to go through it all and shred or burn what's older than that. I didn't have the sense to date mark any of the boxes and there's always those few things you need to keep past seven years (like a marriage license) which means sifting through all of it. Ugh. I get the feeling that February isn't near enough time to tackle all of this. I'm tempted to just rent a storage unit and ship all this crap over there and deal with it later... better yet, just leave it all there and add to it year after year until I'm dead and buried! Let the kid deal with it then, heheheheh....
I HAD DINNER WITH PARIS HILTON...WELL,SORT OF.
Ann and I were at maudies celebrating the loan closing when these two twenty-somethings came in. One of them was in full on Paris mode,Fake tits,hip huggers,blouse to advertise fake tits,sex in the city haircut,the whole 9...but her face,specifically her nose.Let me just say that she had the kind of nose that could avoid breathing problems no matter what was hilt deep in her mouth.
I don't know what annoys me about women like this,well,actually,I do,and I could go on and on...the pretentious clothes,the cell phone glued to the ear that is dangerously close to that gorgon like nose,the "I am so better than you" posturing....
A few minutes after she arrived, a couple came in and took the table next to them...the girl being a natural beauty with a cute little nose.
Suddenly I was transported to the animal planet show about lions stalking wildebeasts during migration...This Paris wanna-be was glaring at this other girl with such malevolent affect,I could feel it.
Suddenly the fake tits and shapely hips were no match after the nose factor was calculated into the mix.
It was an amazing thing to observe,even the hair on my knape bristled a little bit.
Gorgon girl and her friend had pulled three tables together upon arrival,a clear sign for us to clear out...we paid our check and left.When we emerged into the parking lot there were several other Paris clones gathering by the door...I swear I could smell PVC.Ugh.....
Ann and I were at maudies celebrating the loan closing when these two twenty-somethings came in. One of them was in full on Paris mode,Fake tits,hip huggers,blouse to advertise fake tits,sex in the city haircut,the whole 9...but her face,specifically her nose.Let me just say that she had the kind of nose that could avoid breathing problems no matter what was hilt deep in her mouth.
I don't know what annoys me about women like this,well,actually,I do,and I could go on and on...the pretentious clothes,the cell phone glued to the ear that is dangerously close to that gorgon like nose,the "I am so better than you" posturing....
A few minutes after she arrived, a couple came in and took the table next to them...the girl being a natural beauty with a cute little nose.
Suddenly I was transported to the animal planet show about lions stalking wildebeasts during migration...This Paris wanna-be was glaring at this other girl with such malevolent affect,I could feel it.
Suddenly the fake tits and shapely hips were no match after the nose factor was calculated into the mix.
It was an amazing thing to observe,even the hair on my knape bristled a little bit.
Gorgon girl and her friend had pulled three tables together upon arrival,a clear sign for us to clear out...we paid our check and left.When we emerged into the parking lot there were several other Paris clones gathering by the door...I swear I could smell PVC.Ugh.....
Some reasons why my new job is cool
Okay, I haven't actually started work yet, but none of this should change after I "get in the trenches"...
In no particular order...
* Small business with great growth potential; I love a place that I can help to grow.
* Owner has a good reputation; I know people who know him.
* Casual dress; I'm a jeans and t-shirts kind of gal.
* Flexible work hours; a real advantage when your house has only one very tiny bathroom.
* Reasonable commute; driving anywhere in this town sucks!
* Challenging work that is meaningful work; I don't like boring or pointless jobs.
* Pay is what I wanted to make; not too little, not too much - yes, there is actually such as thing as "too much".
* IT skills useful, but not the main focus of the job; quite frankly, IT work was starting to bore me.
* Located next to a little boutique bakery; I love fresh baked bread that doesn't come from a factory.
* There will be dogs! I'm going to be the office manager at a behavioral training center for dogs! Woo-hoo!
Okay, I haven't actually started work yet, but none of this should change after I "get in the trenches"...
In no particular order...
* Small business with great growth potential; I love a place that I can help to grow.
* Owner has a good reputation; I know people who know him.
* Casual dress; I'm a jeans and t-shirts kind of gal.
* Flexible work hours; a real advantage when your house has only one very tiny bathroom.
* Reasonable commute; driving anywhere in this town sucks!
* Challenging work that is meaningful work; I don't like boring or pointless jobs.
* Pay is what I wanted to make; not too little, not too much - yes, there is actually such as thing as "too much".
* IT skills useful, but not the main focus of the job; quite frankly, IT work was starting to bore me.
* Located next to a little boutique bakery; I love fresh baked bread that doesn't come from a factory.
* There will be dogs! I'm going to be the office manager at a behavioral training center for dogs! Woo-hoo!
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
Celebration Station... if you look closely...
I have a reputation for being quite staid. In fact, my ex-husband lamented constantly about my lack of rambunctious emotional display and figured that meant that I didn't REALLY get excited or angry or upset or about anything. Despite outward appearances, my emotions soar to great heights as well as great lows at times just like most other humans and I had the great fortune the second time around to marry a man who can read me better. Hell, sometimes Rob can read me better than I can read myself and he's a great person for me to go to and say, "I'm feeling weird, and I can't figure it out so what do you think might be going on?" and get an insightful answer. Anyway, as Rob said earlier, "the worm has turned" (what is that from? Oh... Rob says the movie "Platoon") and I'm figuratively, but not literally, dancing on the rooftops right now. I may not be outwardly tapping my heels on the shingles, but Rob knows how I feel and that is a cool thing, a very cool thing indeed. More about the new job later, I'm still on my cloud...
I have a reputation for being quite staid. In fact, my ex-husband lamented constantly about my lack of rambunctious emotional display and figured that meant that I didn't REALLY get excited or angry or upset or
THE DIAGNOSTIC STATISICAL MANUAL AND ALL IT'S VERSIONS THERE OF
Anyone who has worked in the field of psychology and all of it's permutations has heard of,seen,perused on the toilet or otherwise referred to this bible of "managed care approved disorders" to diagnose patients,real or imagined.
They are on, I believe, version IV-R.
When I sought out therapy after my mom died,my diagnoses was (primary) Adjustment disorder,non-specified (my mom died and I was fucked up about it) and rule out PTSD (I worked in an environment full of violence and unpredictability...go figure).
...and the list goes on...Conduct disorder,affect disorder,schizotypal disorders: specified,unspecified,paranoid,delusional,paranoid/delusional, major depression, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder (for girls AND boys),MPD...it gets oh so confusing!
From my experience,it was all based on what the insurance companies would pay for,and peoples problems were manipulated in the record to reflect the diagnoses d'jour.
If I was writing a DSM manual,it would be simple,cut and dry...broken down into four sections:
1. Mildly fucked up (out patient therapy...)
2. Moderately fucked up (out patient therapy and some meds)
3. Majorly fucked up (in patient,out patient,lots of meds)
4. Fucked beyond belief (in patient,out patient yo-yo,massive meds,chains and a basement, commonly referred to as transitional care or halfway house,prison and/or death)
Don't get me wrong...I have the utmost empathy for the "less fortunate" disturbed people in our society,it's just that they have been snuggled into a cottage industry designed to make money for the people charged with their care,manipulated and enabled to remain sick. Therapy sold to them like fresh water to flood victims...meds shoved down their throats like they are the Freudian equivalent to crackheads.
Mental illness is really simple: you ain't right, you have to get right,and were gonna help you get right...this simple approach used to work,until some assholes figured out they could make money off other people's sorrows, and did.
And when it got so ridiculous people said enough,they came up with managed care,which is the same thing they were doing before,only with more regulation put in place to fool us, and it worked.
Anyone who has worked in the field of psychology and all of it's permutations has heard of,seen,perused on the toilet or otherwise referred to this bible of "managed care approved disorders" to diagnose patients,real or imagined.
They are on, I believe, version IV-R.
When I sought out therapy after my mom died,my diagnoses was (primary) Adjustment disorder,non-specified (my mom died and I was fucked up about it) and rule out PTSD (I worked in an environment full of violence and unpredictability...go figure).
...and the list goes on...Conduct disorder,affect disorder,schizotypal disorders: specified,unspecified,paranoid,delusional,paranoid/delusional, major depression, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder (for girls AND boys),MPD...it gets oh so confusing!
From my experience,it was all based on what the insurance companies would pay for,and peoples problems were manipulated in the record to reflect the diagnoses d'jour.
If I was writing a DSM manual,it would be simple,cut and dry...broken down into four sections:
1. Mildly fucked up (out patient therapy...)
2. Moderately fucked up (out patient therapy and some meds)
3. Majorly fucked up (in patient,out patient,lots of meds)
4. Fucked beyond belief (in patient,out patient yo-yo,massive meds,chains and a basement, commonly referred to as transitional care or halfway house,prison and/or death)
Don't get me wrong...I have the utmost empathy for the "less fortunate" disturbed people in our society,it's just that they have been snuggled into a cottage industry designed to make money for the people charged with their care,manipulated and enabled to remain sick. Therapy sold to them like fresh water to flood victims...meds shoved down their throats like they are the Freudian equivalent to crackheads.
Mental illness is really simple: you ain't right, you have to get right,and were gonna help you get right...this simple approach used to work,until some assholes figured out they could make money off other people's sorrows, and did.
And when it got so ridiculous people said enough,they came up with managed care,which is the same thing they were doing before,only with more regulation put in place to fool us, and it worked.
THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGIN'
Wow!Annabelle got the job! We close on our loan tomorrow!! The county retro-ed our homestead exemption to 2002 and we got a refund on our property tax!!!
The worm has definitely turned.
I'm so happy for Ann...she got what she wanted...'bout time, too.
All this bullshit we've endured for the last year or so has come to fruition.
I'm Housin'....
Wow!Annabelle got the job! We close on our loan tomorrow!! The county retro-ed our homestead exemption to 2002 and we got a refund on our property tax!!!
The worm has definitely turned.
I'm so happy for Ann...she got what she wanted...'bout time, too.
All this bullshit we've endured for the last year or so has come to fruition.
I'm Housin'....
I got the job!
I'm probably too excited to make much sense right now so I'll keep this short. That "low pay" they kept talking about turned out to be the exact amount I wanted to make. I don't just have "a job", I have a job that meets every single item on my job wish list and then some. AWESOME! More later after I come down off my cloud.
I'm probably too excited to make much sense right now so I'll keep this short. That "low pay" they kept talking about turned out to be the exact amount I wanted to make. I don't just have "a job", I have a job that meets every single item on my job wish list and then some. AWESOME! More later after I come down off my cloud.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
WAY BACK IN THE YEAR 2000...
I started messing around with flash animation.I learned pretty quickly,with the software available at the time combined with my massive intake of vodka and grapefruit juice, my efforts were going to be automatically,uhhh,stunted.
I would create these aberrations and submit them to newgrounds,a website that posts peoples flash,and I would get flamed...big time.They didn't get that I was going for STUPID...that was the slant of my humor.
I was catching up with an old friend over lunch today and was sharing my foray into flash,which prompted me to go visit newgrounds...much to my surprise,my contributions are STILL there,and, much to my amusement,people are still flaming me.
Here's an example from nov. '03...I emphasize...2003!
wtf? do you have downsyndrome or something?
i sincerely hope you are as stupid as your "animations" make you seem. why you ask?
because it would make it very easy for you to go out and get yourself killed, thus making everyones lives a lot more pleasant. and what the story line, a shogun drives a school bus into the west wing of the white house, now he's in jail getting fucked up the ass...
i bet you envy him you cum guzzling peice of shit
go fuck yourself with a rusty blade
This is the little gem he's referring to: 1375 views....
A shogun named Billy
Apparently,John-420 doesn't share my sense of humor :)
Now,you know I have turtles...but did you know I am also a pioneer in bestiality films?
It appears that I am...here's a comment from 12-2003...over 3 years later...
Was this your first submission. I see no inspiration. Just you trying to make a turtle porno. What are you doing??? Trying to introduce a new genre of porno????? DUDE YOU SUCK!!!!!
This is the flash he's referring to: 1810 views....
Turtle Love
I was encouraged by these comments and continued to produce flash...I was inspired by the 60's show leave it to beaver and wondered what it would be like if the cleavers were substance abusers....Like I said...MASSIVE amounts of vodka.
Some comments:
blam this piece of shit January 17, 2004
Reviewed by: jaguarstrike Overall Score: 0
VOTE ZERO UNTIL ITS BLAMMED! HOW THE FUCK DID THIS SURVIVE THE PORTAL????
Graphics: 0 Sound: 0 Interactivity: 0 Style: 0 Violence: 0 Humor: 0
Apparently jaguarstrike has never been bowling :)
Here's the clip: 46,656 views...hmmm...?
Drug Culture Beaver
I continued on this theme:
fuck you November 26, 2003
Reviewed by: james_420 Overall rating: 0
why the fuck would you make a second one you stupid cunt?!?! and... why would you try and drag zepplin down with you?THESE ARE FUCKING STUPID!! you need to be shot and pissed on asswipe
James just doesn't get it does he?
This clip had 1499 views:
Culture pt.2
And finally: At 34,197 views:
You Suck January 25, 2004
Reviewed by: Pyrobot666 Overall rating: 0
I mean thats all I have to say to you, Dumbass
P>S> Eat Shit and Die
The clip:
Trippin' Beaver
Now...what could possibly be my point?
All of these were done in Oct. 2000. You'll note that this last comment is from THREE DAYS AGO!I am humbled that my feeble contributions have lasted this long and provided an outlet for the wankers at newgrounds,to which I say: thanks ASSHATS!!!!
I started messing around with flash animation.I learned pretty quickly,with the software available at the time combined with my massive intake of vodka and grapefruit juice, my efforts were going to be automatically,uhhh,stunted.
I would create these aberrations and submit them to newgrounds,a website that posts peoples flash,and I would get flamed...big time.They didn't get that I was going for STUPID...that was the slant of my humor.
I was catching up with an old friend over lunch today and was sharing my foray into flash,which prompted me to go visit newgrounds...much to my surprise,my contributions are STILL there,and, much to my amusement,people are still flaming me.
Here's an example from nov. '03...I emphasize...2003!
wtf? do you have downsyndrome or something?
i sincerely hope you are as stupid as your "animations" make you seem. why you ask?
because it would make it very easy for you to go out and get yourself killed, thus making everyones lives a lot more pleasant. and what the story line, a shogun drives a school bus into the west wing of the white house, now he's in jail getting fucked up the ass...
i bet you envy him you cum guzzling peice of shit
go fuck yourself with a rusty blade
This is the little gem he's referring to: 1375 views....
A shogun named Billy
Apparently,John-420 doesn't share my sense of humor :)
Now,you know I have turtles...but did you know I am also a pioneer in bestiality films?
It appears that I am...here's a comment from 12-2003...over 3 years later...
Was this your first submission. I see no inspiration. Just you trying to make a turtle porno. What are you doing??? Trying to introduce a new genre of porno????? DUDE YOU SUCK!!!!!
This is the flash he's referring to: 1810 views....
Turtle Love
I was encouraged by these comments and continued to produce flash...I was inspired by the 60's show leave it to beaver and wondered what it would be like if the cleavers were substance abusers....Like I said...MASSIVE amounts of vodka.
Some comments:
blam this piece of shit January 17, 2004
Reviewed by: jaguarstrike Overall Score: 0
VOTE ZERO UNTIL ITS BLAMMED! HOW THE FUCK DID THIS SURVIVE THE PORTAL????
Graphics: 0 Sound: 0 Interactivity: 0 Style: 0 Violence: 0 Humor: 0
Apparently jaguarstrike has never been bowling :)
Here's the clip: 46,656 views...hmmm...?
Drug Culture Beaver
I continued on this theme:
fuck you November 26, 2003
Reviewed by: james_420 Overall rating: 0
why the fuck would you make a second one you stupid cunt?!?! and... why would you try and drag zepplin down with you?THESE ARE FUCKING STUPID!! you need to be shot and pissed on asswipe
James just doesn't get it does he?
This clip had 1499 views:
Culture pt.2
And finally: At 34,197 views:
You Suck January 25, 2004
Reviewed by: Pyrobot666 Overall rating: 0
I mean thats all I have to say to you, Dumbass
P>S> Eat Shit and Die
The clip:
Trippin' Beaver
Now...what could possibly be my point?
All of these were done in Oct. 2000. You'll note that this last comment is from THREE DAYS AGO!I am humbled that my feeble contributions have lasted this long and provided an outlet for the wankers at newgrounds,to which I say: thanks ASSHATS!!!!
Monday, January 26, 2004
JOHN LYDON MUST DIE
Just kidding...I read Billy's post about our punk icons selling out. McClaren was always a peckerwood to me...but Johnny Rotten?Never the sell out.
If you were hardcore about the punk thing,he was a sellout from the get go. After the pistols anyway...The Pistols blew up in Austin around '77...The first single I bought was Pretty vacant b/w No Fun,The cover had a pair of buses going to boredom and nowhere...stops that haunt me to this day.
PIL's record "Generic" was a constant on my turntable..."rise" being a favorite.But he "sold out".I was a big Clash fan, but they too,"sold out"...Black Flag,Social Distortion and more bands than I can remember "sold out"...Henry Rollins is the biggest sellout of all...but I still love him.
The bands I listened to that didn't "sell out"...The Jam(who broke up before the sell out but weller resurfaced before the scab was dry and did just that),Subhumans,FOPI,CRASS,Amebix,faded away from memory because they didn't "sell out".There are more than I can reference...but the point is this...
I believe if you have a message that catches on...no,wait...If you strike a chord with the masses initially and get a major contract...no, wait...If you don't jump on it (read:sell out) You are destined to the discount/cut-out bin and stories of what could of been and a body of work,that if your'e lucky will bob up every 10 years or so,like dennis leary's "asshole"...an overlooked novelty,whether you were serious or not.
And given the opportunity to sell out,you will...and they did...except for Amebix...yet.
Punk rock is a distant memory,obscured by the blink182-offspring-good charlotte abortions that it spawned,remembered by people like me....40 something's with a chip on their shoulders who dust off the vinyl and rue the day they "sold out"...................
Just kidding...I read Billy's post about our punk icons selling out. McClaren was always a peckerwood to me...but Johnny Rotten?Never the sell out.
If you were hardcore about the punk thing,he was a sellout from the get go. After the pistols anyway...The Pistols blew up in Austin around '77...The first single I bought was Pretty vacant b/w No Fun,The cover had a pair of buses going to boredom and nowhere...stops that haunt me to this day.
PIL's record "Generic" was a constant on my turntable..."rise" being a favorite.But he "sold out".I was a big Clash fan, but they too,"sold out"...Black Flag,Social Distortion and more bands than I can remember "sold out"...Henry Rollins is the biggest sellout of all...but I still love him.
The bands I listened to that didn't "sell out"...The Jam(who broke up before the sell out but weller resurfaced before the scab was dry and did just that),Subhumans,FOPI,CRASS,Amebix,faded away from memory because they didn't "sell out".There are more than I can reference...but the point is this...
I believe if you have a message that catches on...no,wait...If you strike a chord with the masses initially and get a major contract...no, wait...If you don't jump on it (read:sell out) You are destined to the discount/cut-out bin and stories of what could of been and a body of work,that if your'e lucky will bob up every 10 years or so,like dennis leary's "asshole"...an overlooked novelty,whether you were serious or not.
And given the opportunity to sell out,you will...and they did...except for Amebix...yet.
Punk rock is a distant memory,obscured by the blink182-offspring-good charlotte abortions that it spawned,remembered by people like me....40 something's with a chip on their shoulders who dust off the vinyl and rue the day they "sold out"...................
IF IT'S BROKE, WHY BOTHER FIXING IT?
It amazes me how we survive as a species without our various infrastructures imploding on us at any given moment,rendering us neanderthal (that's tall with a silent "h" by the way) grunting away in our dismay that the bison is once again...raw.
We are constantly inundated with messages trumpeting our "great technology" and the reality of it is,when it works,it's nothing short of a miracle from god.
Take my recent foray into high finance,for example.Everytime I turn around,there's been another "mistake" made,which amounts to:they don't know what the fuck it is they are supposed to be doing.
I had to research and provide the "requested documents"...because they couldn't seem to get it right. My success at this was greeted with a kind of backhanded resentment that can only be compared to solving the equation in math class the instructor couldn't solve,and for the effort,said instructor hits you in the head with a chalk laden eraser. Ouch.
Nothing works like it's supposed to in this country...look around yourself and it becomes painfully clear...Insurance cards don't run properly,when you try to activate a bank card (after the bank cancelled your old one a day before they called to tell you it was) you get a "processing error" and are directed to the issuing bank,then the system hangs up on you with a "thank you" that is more along the lines of "fuck you...bwahahahahahahahaha!!!!".They spout 24/7 service and you get snubbed by a fucking recording and have to suck on it until the issuing bank opens at 10am the next day,completely ignoring your immediate need for a rocks with no salt.And when you do call the next morning you're thrown into an automated labyrinth that leaves you,at best homicidal and at worst curled up in a fetal position crying like a bitch.
God bless america!
When they finally do straighten it out,they act like they've done you a favor...this is gall beyond fucking GALL...they want YOU to be thankful for a problem THEY fucking caused.
Not right,I tell you,it's not right.
So,meanwhile,back at the cave, you try to describe your day and it disintegrates into so many grunts and clicks with a smattering of spastic facial ticks and hand gestures...and you know you have arrived...
That is until you turn on the news...
And the gravity of it all drives you to a rooftop with a pile of rocks and some sharp pointy sticks.
Nagwaa too-mock indeed.
It amazes me how we survive as a species without our various infrastructures imploding on us at any given moment,rendering us neanderthal (that's tall with a silent "h" by the way) grunting away in our dismay that the bison is once again...raw.
We are constantly inundated with messages trumpeting our "great technology" and the reality of it is,when it works,it's nothing short of a miracle from god.
Take my recent foray into high finance,for example.Everytime I turn around,there's been another "mistake" made,which amounts to:they don't know what the fuck it is they are supposed to be doing.
I had to research and provide the "requested documents"...because they couldn't seem to get it right. My success at this was greeted with a kind of backhanded resentment that can only be compared to solving the equation in math class the instructor couldn't solve,and for the effort,said instructor hits you in the head with a chalk laden eraser. Ouch.
Nothing works like it's supposed to in this country...look around yourself and it becomes painfully clear...Insurance cards don't run properly,when you try to activate a bank card (after the bank cancelled your old one a day before they called to tell you it was) you get a "processing error" and are directed to the issuing bank,then the system hangs up on you with a "thank you" that is more along the lines of "fuck you...bwahahahahahahahaha!!!!".They spout 24/7 service and you get snubbed by a fucking recording and have to suck on it until the issuing bank opens at 10am the next day,completely ignoring your immediate need for a rocks with no salt.And when you do call the next morning you're thrown into an automated labyrinth that leaves you,at best homicidal and at worst curled up in a fetal position crying like a bitch.
God bless america!
When they finally do straighten it out,they act like they've done you a favor...this is gall beyond fucking GALL...they want YOU to be thankful for a problem THEY fucking caused.
Not right,I tell you,it's not right.
So,meanwhile,back at the cave, you try to describe your day and it disintegrates into so many grunts and clicks with a smattering of spastic facial ticks and hand gestures...and you know you have arrived...
That is until you turn on the news...
And the gravity of it all drives you to a rooftop with a pile of rocks and some sharp pointy sticks.
Nagwaa too-mock indeed.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Whoa... *evil*???
You're a hydra. You have many different outlooks on
life, and know how to utilize each one to make
the best of any situation. Others may mistake
this for hypocrisy or even insanity, but you
know yourself better than that. Indecision is
your greatest flaw. Your alignment tends
slightly towards *evil*.
What mythical beast are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
You're a hydra. You have many different outlooks on
life, and know how to utilize each one to make
the best of any situation. Others may mistake
this for hypocrisy or even insanity, but you
know yourself better than that. Indecision is
your greatest flaw. Your alignment tends
slightly towards *evil*.
What mythical beast are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
HOW ABOUT THAT SHIT?
You're a gryphon. You're very powerful without
needing to brag about it. Creativity is one of
your strong suits. Your outward personality may
change drastically according to your mood,
which is not always a good thing. You're a
loyal guardian when you choose to be and you're
aligned towards *good*.
What mythical beast are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Wow...a gryphon...who'd a thunk it?
You're a gryphon. You're very powerful without
needing to brag about it. Creativity is one of
your strong suits. Your outward personality may
change drastically according to your mood,
which is not always a good thing. You're a
loyal guardian when you choose to be and you're
aligned towards *good*.
What mythical beast are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Wow...a gryphon...who'd a thunk it?
Sunday Brunch Meme
WILD AND CRAZY STUFF
1. When you were a teenager, did you sneak out of the house?
Nope, didn't have to. My curfew after age 15 was the crack of dawn.
2. Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?
Hell yeah. I was a teenager in Austin in the 70s. Hippy Hollow, Campbell's Hole. 'Nuff said.
3. Have you ever dyed your hair a wild and crazy color?
Nope, but I would if Lime Green would look decent on me (which it wouldn't.)
4. Did you ever get so drunk you couldn't remember much of the night?
Yep, but I aways made it home before the sun came up.
5. Tell us about something wild and crazy you did as a teenager you probably should have gotten in trouble for but never got caught.
I've thought about this for half a day now and I can't come up with anything. It's not that I didn't do anything wild and crazy, but I can't think of anything I *should* have gotten in trouble for. Teenagers need to have their fun. Rob has a much better story - see the post below this one.
WILD AND CRAZY STUFF
1. When you were a teenager, did you sneak out of the house?
Nope, didn't have to. My curfew after age 15 was the crack of dawn.
2. Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?
Hell yeah. I was a teenager in Austin in the 70s. Hippy Hollow, Campbell's Hole. 'Nuff said.
3. Have you ever dyed your hair a wild and crazy color?
Nope, but I would if Lime Green would look decent on me (which it wouldn't.)
4. Did you ever get so drunk you couldn't remember much of the night?
Yep, but I aways made it home before the sun came up.
5. Tell us about something wild and crazy you did as a teenager you probably should have gotten in trouble for but never got caught.
I've thought about this for half a day now and I can't come up with anything. It's not that I didn't do anything wild and crazy, but I can't think of anything I *should* have gotten in trouble for. Teenagers need to have their fun. Rob has a much better story - see the post below this one.
A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE...
It's funny how stuff you haven't thought about in years pops into your head after a trigger.And todays trigger is COPS on the USA network.Specifically the morons who try to run. They never get away,they end up slammed to the ground by really pissed off cops who apply liberal doses of knee and elbow. Serves them right.
That part reminds me of the old days on the crisis intervention team,when I was playing the cop role, when someone runs from you in your charge,two things go through your mind:why are they running? and I have to stop them. I have chased many, none got away,and I have administered the knee and elbow treatment liberally.
But what I remembered watching the skels run on cops today was running from the law,and getting away.
Me and some buddies were hanging out at the Armadillo world Headquarters as we frequently did.AWHQ was at the corner of Barton Springs and So.1st Street. Directly across the street was an apartment complex called the willows at the time,one block south of that was Timber Creek,where my best friend lived.These apartments were separated by a creek that had a trail along it leading to the back of Timber Creek,near my buddies apartment. I had walked that trail many times.
Anyway...we were leaving the dillo and headed home on foot when it started to rain,the guys I was with lived on down the road,I was going to my buddies apartment at Timber Creek. We stopped under the first floor of the willows to wait out the rain,talking and smoking on the sidewalk between 2 apartments, the conversation was about the nights events...foosball,the band playing,beer drinking and the drugs scored.I had a marlboro box FULL of white crosses...about a hundred.
Apparently,someone in one of those 2 apartments wasn't impressed with us and called the police.
The rain stopped,we walked out to the street and were saying our goodnights when 2 police cars pulled up,one headed north,one headed south...They jumped out of their cars and cried "hold it"! Which to 15 year olds holding drugs means run for your life...and I did...down that aforementioned trail,in the dark,as fast as I could,with a uniform in hot pursuit. I was way ahead until I hit the branch...about 3 inches in diameter and growing across the trail ankle high. One minute I'm running like the wind,the next I'm airborn...flying like superman,and all the while this cop is breathily yelling "halt police"!Yeah right,I'm gonna hold it with 100 hits of speed in my top left pocket.
I hit the ground hard,and in what can only be described as a Jackie Chan moment (culture jump here,but you get the drift) bounced up,on my feet,and continued running.
I cleared the trail and tossed the pack with the speed in it under the first car in the lot and ran the rest of the lot to my buddies apartment.
I pounded on his window,and he raised his blinds to see me,terrified,eyes as big as softballs,screaming let me in over and over and over.
He let me in,and we hid in the dark for what seemed an eternity.His mom worked the night shift and wasn't there thank god.She would of turned us both over.
We peeked out the window and saw cruisers cruising the parking lot for about 45 minutes...when they left,we smoked a bowl and crashed.
The next morning I retrieved my cig pack of speed and hitch hiked home,never giving it a second thought...it became the buzz story at school on monday.
The gravity of the situation never occurred to me until much later in life...
When I'm watching COPS,and someone runs...I say to the television...Ha motherfucker,I got AWAY...HAHAHA.
And I did get away,from all of that,eventually.
And as much as I understand the wrongness of it now,it still makes for good stories and great memories.
It's funny how stuff you haven't thought about in years pops into your head after a trigger.And todays trigger is COPS on the USA network.Specifically the morons who try to run. They never get away,they end up slammed to the ground by really pissed off cops who apply liberal doses of knee and elbow. Serves them right.
That part reminds me of the old days on the crisis intervention team,when I was playing the cop role, when someone runs from you in your charge,two things go through your mind:why are they running? and I have to stop them. I have chased many, none got away,and I have administered the knee and elbow treatment liberally.
But what I remembered watching the skels run on cops today was running from the law,and getting away.
Me and some buddies were hanging out at the Armadillo world Headquarters as we frequently did.AWHQ was at the corner of Barton Springs and So.1st Street. Directly across the street was an apartment complex called the willows at the time,one block south of that was Timber Creek,where my best friend lived.These apartments were separated by a creek that had a trail along it leading to the back of Timber Creek,near my buddies apartment. I had walked that trail many times.
Anyway...we were leaving the dillo and headed home on foot when it started to rain,the guys I was with lived on down the road,I was going to my buddies apartment at Timber Creek. We stopped under the first floor of the willows to wait out the rain,talking and smoking on the sidewalk between 2 apartments, the conversation was about the nights events...foosball,the band playing,beer drinking and the drugs scored.I had a marlboro box FULL of white crosses...about a hundred.
Apparently,someone in one of those 2 apartments wasn't impressed with us and called the police.
The rain stopped,we walked out to the street and were saying our goodnights when 2 police cars pulled up,one headed north,one headed south...They jumped out of their cars and cried "hold it"! Which to 15 year olds holding drugs means run for your life...and I did...down that aforementioned trail,in the dark,as fast as I could,with a uniform in hot pursuit. I was way ahead until I hit the branch...about 3 inches in diameter and growing across the trail ankle high. One minute I'm running like the wind,the next I'm airborn...flying like superman,and all the while this cop is breathily yelling "halt police"!Yeah right,I'm gonna hold it with 100 hits of speed in my top left pocket.
I hit the ground hard,and in what can only be described as a Jackie Chan moment (culture jump here,but you get the drift) bounced up,on my feet,and continued running.
I cleared the trail and tossed the pack with the speed in it under the first car in the lot and ran the rest of the lot to my buddies apartment.
I pounded on his window,and he raised his blinds to see me,terrified,eyes as big as softballs,screaming let me in over and over and over.
He let me in,and we hid in the dark for what seemed an eternity.His mom worked the night shift and wasn't there thank god.She would of turned us both over.
We peeked out the window and saw cruisers cruising the parking lot for about 45 minutes...when they left,we smoked a bowl and crashed.
The next morning I retrieved my cig pack of speed and hitch hiked home,never giving it a second thought...it became the buzz story at school on monday.
The gravity of the situation never occurred to me until much later in life...
When I'm watching COPS,and someone runs...I say to the television...Ha motherfucker,I got AWAY...HAHAHA.
And I did get away,from all of that,eventually.
And as much as I understand the wrongness of it now,it still makes for good stories and great memories.
Movie Meme Comparison
Here's why movies are not on the top ten list of conversational topics when Rob and I go out to dinner. The bold ones are the movies we've seen.
If I counted right, then the score is Rob: 68, Ann: 32
Here's why movies are not on the top ten list of conversational topics when Rob and I go out to dinner. The bold ones are the movies we've seen.
| ROB
1. The Godfather (1972) 2. The Shawshank Redemption (1994) 3. The Godfather: Part II (1974) 4. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) 5. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) 6. Casablanca (1942) 7. Schindler's List (1993) 8. Shichinin no samurai (1954) (The Seven Samurai) 9. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) 10. Citizen Kane (1941) 11. Star Wars (1977) 12. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) 13. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) 14. Rear Window (1954) 15. Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980) 16. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) 17. Memento (2000) 18. The Usual Suspects (1995) 19. Pulp Fiction (1994) 20. North by Northwest (1959) 21. Le Fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain (2001) (Amelie) 22. Psycho (1960) 23. 12 Angry Men (1957) 24. Lawrence of Arabia (1962) 25. The Silence of the Lambs (1991) 26. Il Buono, il brutto, il cattivo (1966) (The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly) 27. It's a Wonderful Life (1946) 28. Goodfellas (1990) 29. American Beauty (1999) 30. Vertigo (1958) 31. Sunset Blvd. (1950) 32. The Pianist (2002) 33. The Matrix (1999) 34. Apocalypse Now (1979) 35. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) 36. Some Like It Hot (1959) 37. Taxi Driver (1976) 38. Paths of Glory (1957) 39. The Third Man (1949) 40. C'era una volta il West (1968) (Once Upon a Time in the West) 41. Fight Club (1999) 42. Das Boot (1981) 43. Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (2001) (Spirited Away) 44. Double Indemnity (1944) 45. L.A. Confidential (1997) 46. Chinatown (1974) 47. Singin' in the Rain (1952) 48. Requiem for a Dream (2000) 49. The Maltese Falcon (1941) 50. M (1931) 51. All About Eve (1950) 52. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) 53. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) 54. Se7en (1995) 55. Saving Private Ryan (1998) 56. Cidade de Deus (2002) (City of God) 57. Raging Bull (1980) 58. The Wizard of Oz (1939) 59. Rashômon (1950) 60. The Sting (1973) 61. American History X (1998) 62. Alien (1979) 63. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) 64. Leon (The Professional) (1994) 65. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) 66. La Vita bella (1997) (Life Is Beautiful) 67. Touch of Evil (1958) 68. The Manchurian Candidate (1962) 69. Wo hu cang long (2000) (Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon) 70. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) 71. The Great Escape (1963) 72. A Clockwork Orange (1971) 73. Reservoir Dogs (1992) 74. Annie Hall (1977) 75. Amadeus (1984) 76. Jaws (1975) 77. Ran (1985) 78. On the Waterfront (1954) 79. Modern Times (1936) 80. High Noon (1952) 81. Braveheart (1995) 82. The Apartment (1960) 83. The Sixth Sense (1999) 84. Fargo (1996) 85. Aliens (1986) 86. The Shining (1980) 87. Blade Runner (1982) 88. Strangers on a Train (1951) 89. Duck Soup (1933) 90. Metropolis (1927) 91. Finding Nemo (2003) 92. Donnie Darko (2001) 93. Toy Story 2 (1999) 94. The Princess Bride (1987) 95. The General (1927) 96. City Lights (1931) 97. Lola rennt (1998) (Run Lola Run) 98. Full Metal Jacket (1987) 99. Notorious (1946) 100. Det Sjunde inseglet (1957) (The Seventh Seal) |
ANN
1. The Godfather (1972) 2. The Shawshank Redemption (1994) 3. The Godfather: Part II (1974) 4. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) 5. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) 6. Casablanca (1942) 7. Schindler's List (1993) 8. Shichinin no samurai (1954) (The Seven Samurai) 9. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) 10. Citizen Kane (1941) 11. Star Wars (1977) 12. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) 13. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) 14. Rear Window (1954) 15. Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980) 16. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) 17. Memento (2000) 18. The Usual Suspects (1995) 19. Pulp Fiction (1994) 20. North by Northwest (1959) 21. Le Fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain (2001) (Amelie) 22. Psycho (1960) 23. 12 Angry Men (1957) 24. Lawrence of Arabia (1962) 25. The Silence of the Lambs (1991) 26. Il Buono, il brutto, il cattivo (1966) (The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly) 27. It's a Wonderful Life (1946) 28. Goodfellas (1990) 29. American Beauty (1999) 30. Vertigo (1958) 31. Sunset Blvd. (1950) 32. The Pianist (2002) 33. The Matrix (1999) 34. Apocalypse Now (1979) 35. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) 36. Some Like It Hot (1959) 37. Taxi Driver (1976) 38. Paths of Glory (1957) 39. The Third Man (1949) 40. C'era una volta il West (1968) (Once Upon a Time in the West) 41. Fight Club (1999) 42. Das Boot (1981) 43. Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (2001) (Spirited Away) 44. Double Indemnity (1944) 45. L.A. Confidential (1997) 46. Chinatown (1974) 47. Singin' in the Rain (1952) 48. Requiem for a Dream (2000) 49. The Maltese Falcon (1941) 50. M (1931) 51. All About Eve (1950) 52. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) 53. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) 54. Se7en (1995) 55. Saving Private Ryan (1998) 56. Cidade de Deus (2002) (City of God) 57. Raging Bull (1980) 58. The Wizard of Oz (1939) 59. Rashômon (1950) 60. The Sting (1973) 61. American History X (1998) 62. Alien (1979) 63. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) 64. Leon (The Professional) (1994) 65. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) 66. La Vita bella (1997) (Life Is Beautiful) 67. Touch of Evil (1958) 68. The Manchurian Candidate (1962) 69. Wo hu cang long (2000) (Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon) 70. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) 71. The Great Escape (1963) 72. A Clockwork Orange (1971) 73. Reservoir Dogs (1992) 74. Annie Hall (1977) 75. Amadeus (1984) 76. Jaws (1975) 77. Ran (1985) 78. On the Waterfront (1954) 79. Modern Times (1936) 80. High Noon (1952) 81. Braveheart (1995) 82. The Apartment (1960) 83. The Sixth Sense (1999) 84. Fargo (1996) 85. Aliens (1986) 86. The Shining (1980) 87. Blade Runner (1982) 88. Strangers on a Train (1951) 89. Duck Soup (1933) 90. Metropolis (1927) 91. Finding Nemo (2003) 92. Donnie Darko (2001) 93. Toy Story 2 (1999) 94. The Princess Bride (1987) 95. The General (1927) 96. City Lights (1931) 97. Lola rennt (1998) (Run Lola Run) 98. Full Metal Jacket (1987) 99. Notorious (1946) 100. Det Sjunde inseglet (1957) (The Seventh Seal) |
If I counted right, then the score is Rob: 68, Ann: 32
A week of blogs
Special K has a new (to her) computer so if you haven't stopped by lately due to the infrequent internet cafe posting, go there and get back in the groove of a laugh a day.
Essay had someone try to break into her house the other day and reminded me that I'm probably too much of a Texan to ever follow through on my occasional desire to move to Canada. Between the cold weather, no guns in the house and not being able to buy beer at the corner convenience store, I think I might end up with a severe case of culture shock.
Billy comments a bit on the subject of mathmatics and apparently multiplication in England is taught much the same way my own third grade teacher tried to shove it down my throat which is to just memorize the tables. That made absolutely no sense to me and I spent many agonizing evenings with my parents and "flash cards" trying to memorize the result of 3x3 and such until one day I figured out how it worked and that 3x3 was just short hand for 3+3+3. Now would it really have been so hard for the teacher to EXPLAIN that? Jeez.
Blue Witch has headed off on her travels, but has a plan for remote blogging. Let's hope it works.
Speaking of math, Jim has a word problem for you and the comments are a hoot.
Dooce has posted the last of the belly pictures. I recognized the first one and realized I've been reading her blog through her entire pregnancy. I'd like to make some profound statement about how blogs let you follow events in someone's life over time and how cool that is, but I haven't had near enough coffee.
Broad at Bat had a great idea - YOU write the post she lost when her battery died. I didn't attempt it since there's no way I could write anything as well as she does.
Niki had some breaking news and if this post doesn't have you rolling on the floor, you might want to check for a pulse. And take a moment to answer the mini-poll if you stop by.
Bob turned me on to the website mixmaster. Rob and I had some good chuckles over it.
Skot is always a good source of amusement, but this post about the car had me snorting coffee out my nose.
Subversity has a post about Howard Dean which is one of those posts where I think, "Yeah, what he said".
And there's plenty more, but I'm out of coffee and need to rustle up a restaurant coupon in the hopes that Rob and I can afford to do our traditional Sunday brunch.
Special K has a new (to her) computer so if you haven't stopped by lately due to the infrequent internet cafe posting, go there and get back in the groove of a laugh a day.
Essay had someone try to break into her house the other day and reminded me that I'm probably too much of a Texan to ever follow through on my occasional desire to move to Canada. Between the cold weather, no guns in the house and not being able to buy beer at the corner convenience store, I think I might end up with a severe case of culture shock.
Billy comments a bit on the subject of mathmatics and apparently multiplication in England is taught much the same way my own third grade teacher tried to shove it down my throat which is to just memorize the tables. That made absolutely no sense to me and I spent many agonizing evenings with my parents and "flash cards" trying to memorize the result of 3x3 and such until one day I figured out how it worked and that 3x3 was just short hand for 3+3+3. Now would it really have been so hard for the teacher to EXPLAIN that? Jeez.
Blue Witch has headed off on her travels, but has a plan for remote blogging. Let's hope it works.
Speaking of math, Jim has a word problem for you and the comments are a hoot.
Dooce has posted the last of the belly pictures. I recognized the first one and realized I've been reading her blog through her entire pregnancy. I'd like to make some profound statement about how blogs let you follow events in someone's life over time and how cool that is, but I haven't had near enough coffee.
Broad at Bat had a great idea - YOU write the post she lost when her battery died. I didn't attempt it since there's no way I could write anything as well as she does.
Niki had some breaking news and if this post doesn't have you rolling on the floor, you might want to check for a pulse. And take a moment to answer the mini-poll if you stop by.
Bob turned me on to the website mixmaster. Rob and I had some good chuckles over it.
Skot is always a good source of amusement, but this post about the car had me snorting coffee out my nose.
Subversity has a post about Howard Dean which is one of those posts where I think, "Yeah, what he said".
And there's plenty more, but I'm out of coffee and need to rustle up a restaurant coupon in the hopes that Rob and I can afford to do our traditional Sunday brunch.
Saturday, January 24, 2004
A TYPICAL DAY
5:45am: alarm goes off,hit snooze bar and calculate 15 minutes fast until the last minute,get up and shower (shave if I have time)
6:30-6:45: Try to get out of the house with everything and begin commute to work.Usually have to go back in the house to retrieve something.
6:45-7:15: Dodge cars,curse at red lights,stop at the 7-11 for coffee, arrive at work.
7:15-8:00: Clock in,log on,check messages,discuss breakfast tacos with co-workers,usually order tacos,eat,catch up with current events,phone starts ringing at 8:00 and doesn't stop.
8:01am-4:ishpm: Answer phones,take customer orders,diagnose problems over the phone,recieve material,recieve PO's,generate sales orders,PO's, coordinate deliveries to and from the shop,answer stupid questions,go to lunch between 12 and 2,time allowing,or wait for dinner.
4ishpm-5:30pm: fight traffic home,call wife on cell and have the same discussion we've had for almost 10 years about dinner,no decision made.
5:30: greet dogs (3) listen to non stop barking (what they did today I suppose) for about 5 minutes,greet wife,go out to dinner.
8:00: return from dinner, greet dogs (see 5:30),get on internet,feed dogs/turtles. Let dogs out,let dogs in,replenish water at least twice.Blog,watch some TV,visit with wife.Let dogs out,let dogs in,investigate what they're barking at.
10-11:00: The daily show and tough crowd (usually).
11:00:Bedtime,fight dogs for space on the bed.Finally settle in to a comfy configuration...sleep.
What's your day like?
5:45am: alarm goes off,hit snooze bar and calculate 15 minutes fast until the last minute,get up and shower (shave if I have time)
6:30-6:45: Try to get out of the house with everything and begin commute to work.Usually have to go back in the house to retrieve something.
6:45-7:15: Dodge cars,curse at red lights,stop at the 7-11 for coffee, arrive at work.
7:15-8:00: Clock in,log on,check messages,discuss breakfast tacos with co-workers,usually order tacos,eat,catch up with current events,phone starts ringing at 8:00 and doesn't stop.
8:01am-4:ishpm: Answer phones,take customer orders,diagnose problems over the phone,recieve material,recieve PO's,generate sales orders,PO's, coordinate deliveries to and from the shop,answer stupid questions,go to lunch between 12 and 2,time allowing,or wait for dinner.
4ishpm-5:30pm: fight traffic home,call wife on cell and have the same discussion we've had for almost 10 years about dinner,no decision made.
5:30: greet dogs (3) listen to non stop barking (what they did today I suppose) for about 5 minutes,greet wife,go out to dinner.
8:00: return from dinner, greet dogs (see 5:30),get on internet,feed dogs/turtles. Let dogs out,let dogs in,replenish water at least twice.Blog,watch some TV,visit with wife.Let dogs out,let dogs in,investigate what they're barking at.
10-11:00: The daily show and tough crowd (usually).
11:00:Bedtime,fight dogs for space on the bed.Finally settle in to a comfy configuration...sleep.
What's your day like?
LOST ONE TODAY...
Out of the thirty turtles who live with us, eight of them are babies, 2 to three years old.One of these babies grew normally for awhile and then stopped around the size of a quarter. The diet was exactly the same for all eight of them,same environment,etc.It just stopped growing, despite a voracious appetite. I suspect it had metabolic bone disease. I say "it" because it's difficult to sex turtles when they are so young,one tip off is the tail length,and judging on that, "it" was a he,called (unimaginatively) runt.
Runt was cool, kind of like wee man from jackass...always in there with his bigger brothers and sisters,holding his own. Our little turtle that could. Last summer he suffered an ant bite to his eye,which caused that alkaline swelling common to ant bites,in this case the swelling was almost as big as his head.I brought him inside and did what I could to help him out...he survived,sans eyelid and probably sight in that eye, yet he soldiered on.
As I've written,they are inside for the winter.Today was soak/feed day for them, and I found Runt dead.
I wasn't surprised...I knew this day would come. But as I watched his brothers and sisters soak and drink and clamor about,I wondered if they missed him like I did.
Out of the thirty turtles who live with us, eight of them are babies, 2 to three years old.One of these babies grew normally for awhile and then stopped around the size of a quarter. The diet was exactly the same for all eight of them,same environment,etc.It just stopped growing, despite a voracious appetite. I suspect it had metabolic bone disease. I say "it" because it's difficult to sex turtles when they are so young,one tip off is the tail length,and judging on that, "it" was a he,called (unimaginatively) runt.
Runt was cool, kind of like wee man from jackass...always in there with his bigger brothers and sisters,holding his own. Our little turtle that could. Last summer he suffered an ant bite to his eye,which caused that alkaline swelling common to ant bites,in this case the swelling was almost as big as his head.I brought him inside and did what I could to help him out...he survived,sans eyelid and probably sight in that eye, yet he soldiered on.
As I've written,they are inside for the winter.Today was soak/feed day for them, and I found Runt dead.
I wasn't surprised...I knew this day would come. But as I watched his brothers and sisters soak and drink and clamor about,I wondered if they missed him like I did.
Apparently JF was right
Once upon a time, Rob was involved in a conversation with "the guys" about their wives. I don't remember the context of the conversation since I wasn't there and only know about it because Rob told me about this particular comment: at some point in the conversation, JF turns to Rob and says, "That's because you married a man." My initial reaction was to feel insulted, but Rob explained that it was a compliment and knowing JF, it probably was. Well, The Gender Test has proven JF to be correct. According to the test I am definitely a man. I did correct them and got a good laugh from this text: People like you, who walk the scary line between man and woman, are *very* helpful in understanding exactly what it means to be human. Scary line, eh?
The fact that I appear to think more like a man than a woman probably explains my life-long difficulty in finding female friends. There's much about the "average woman" that I've encountered which I don't understand. Conversations within a group of these woman usually involve shopping, make-up, fashion, babies or children, movie stars, gossip magazines, or health problems. None of which are on my list of the top 1000 topics of discussion. The guys, on the other hand, are likely to be discussing cars, computers, politics, guns, tattoos, rock/punk/heavy metal bands or sports. Sports is missing from my topic list, but the others all rank pretty high up there. Which group do you think I'm going to go hang out with? However, it's not just conversational topics that get me, but what seems to me to be very weird thinking. Like, giving your husband "the silent treatment". What's up with that? How does that accomplish anything? Or that "no sex until he (insert conditional statement here)" Huh? You want to deny yourself a good roll in the hay because he forgot to take out the trash? I don't get it. Why not just take out the trash yourself if it's such a big deal? And why are you talking about this stuff anyway... for once, can't this group of women discuss the possibility of life on Mars instead of "Men are from Mars/Woman are from Venus?" or whatever the hell that book is called.
That said, blog reading has opened my eyes to the fact that there are plenty of women in this world that don't match the "average woman" standard that I've inadvertently compiled over the years. In fact, there are so many out there that I'm completely mystified as to why I have not met more women like this in person. Maybe the woman I've met are actually just like the blogging women, but don't show that side of themselves in social settings. I don't know. Anyone else got a clue to this mystery?
Once upon a time, Rob was involved in a conversation with "the guys" about their wives. I don't remember the context of the conversation since I wasn't there and only know about it because Rob told me about this particular comment: at some point in the conversation, JF turns to Rob and says, "That's because you married a man." My initial reaction was to feel insulted, but Rob explained that it was a compliment and knowing JF, it probably was. Well, The Gender Test has proven JF to be correct. According to the test I am definitely a man. I did correct them and got a good laugh from this text: People like you, who walk the scary line between man and woman, are *very* helpful in understanding exactly what it means to be human. Scary line, eh?
The fact that I appear to think more like a man than a woman probably explains my life-long difficulty in finding female friends. There's much about the "average woman" that I've encountered which I don't understand. Conversations within a group of these woman usually involve shopping, make-up, fashion, babies or children, movie stars, gossip magazines, or health problems. None of which are on my list of the top 1000 topics of discussion. The guys, on the other hand, are likely to be discussing cars, computers, politics, guns, tattoos, rock/punk/heavy metal bands or sports. Sports is missing from my topic list, but the others all rank pretty high up there. Which group do you think I'm going to go hang out with? However, it's not just conversational topics that get me, but what seems to me to be very weird thinking. Like, giving your husband "the silent treatment". What's up with that? How does that accomplish anything? Or that "no sex until he (insert conditional statement here)" Huh? You want to deny yourself a good roll in the hay because he forgot to take out the trash? I don't get it. Why not just take out the trash yourself if it's such a big deal? And why are you talking about this stuff anyway... for once, can't this group of women discuss the possibility of life on Mars instead of "Men are from Mars/Woman are from Venus?" or whatever the hell that book is called.
That said, blog reading has opened my eyes to the fact that there are plenty of women in this world that don't match the "average woman" standard that I've inadvertently compiled over the years. In fact, there are so many out there that I'm completely mystified as to why I have not met more women like this in person. Maybe the woman I've met are actually just like the blogging women, but don't show that side of themselves in social settings. I don't know. Anyone else got a clue to this mystery?
Friday, January 23, 2004
Neither a TV child, nor adult be
I've come to realize over my lifespan so far that my life-long habit of not watching TV is a detriment to my social life. We had a TV when I was a wee child. It was a green and white thing (we didn't get a true grey and white until I was much older.) My brothers watched the Lone Ranger and other stuff, but for the most part I ignored that box, favoring books and the erector set or self-made fantasy worlds in the back yard. I didn't watch the TV reports of the Kennedy assassination or the Whitman shootings and though I knew about such things from the newspaper, I don't have vivid memories of the televised events like many of my peers. I saw some of the news reports on the Vietnam war during dinner time, enough to place me firmly in the anti-war camp at the time and that's probably the biggest influence TV has ever had on me. Over the years my parents watched TV at dinner and in the evenings so I have a vague familiarity with Ed Sullivan, Red Skelton, The Honeymooners, Dragnet, Mannix, The Carol Burnett Show, All in the Family, Baretta, Columbo, and more. However, I rarely actually watched these shows, so my memories are just tid-bits that I happened to catch while eating dinner or passing through the room. TV just didn't hold my attention then nor does it do a very good job of grabbing it now. And so, in many social settings when the topic turns to TV present or past, I'm at a complete loss. Captain Kangaroo passed away today and my memory of that show is nothing more than the theme song, his face and a brief bit with Mr. Green Jeans. I probably only saw that show a few times and that's true of most TV programs. As a result, there's always this gap when it comes to connecting with my peers, most of whom were raised on TV and continue to be avid consumers. I simply can't connect on that subject with Rob or others because it's just not a part of my experience. At parties or gatherings, I'm often left without a damn thing to say because the conversation has strayed to TV topics and I'm the only one standing there who is competely clueless. Now I could, thanks to cable TV, catch up on all this stuff I've missed over the years, but quite frankly, I don't care to do that. I'd rather spend an hour at a party with nothing to say than to spend hours watching reruns of The Brady Bunch. Improved social interaction just isn't worth it.
I've come to realize over my lifespan so far that my life-long habit of not watching TV is a detriment to my social life. We had a TV when I was a wee child. It was a green and white thing (we didn't get a true grey and white until I was much older.) My brothers watched the Lone Ranger and other stuff, but for the most part I ignored that box, favoring books and the erector set or self-made fantasy worlds in the back yard. I didn't watch the TV reports of the Kennedy assassination or the Whitman shootings and though I knew about such things from the newspaper, I don't have vivid memories of the televised events like many of my peers. I saw some of the news reports on the Vietnam war during dinner time, enough to place me firmly in the anti-war camp at the time and that's probably the biggest influence TV has ever had on me. Over the years my parents watched TV at dinner and in the evenings so I have a vague familiarity with Ed Sullivan, Red Skelton, The Honeymooners, Dragnet, Mannix, The Carol Burnett Show, All in the Family, Baretta, Columbo, and more. However, I rarely actually watched these shows, so my memories are just tid-bits that I happened to catch while eating dinner or passing through the room. TV just didn't hold my attention then nor does it do a very good job of grabbing it now. And so, in many social settings when the topic turns to TV present or past, I'm at a complete loss. Captain Kangaroo passed away today and my memory of that show is nothing more than the theme song, his face and a brief bit with Mr. Green Jeans. I probably only saw that show a few times and that's true of most TV programs. As a result, there's always this gap when it comes to connecting with my peers, most of whom were raised on TV and continue to be avid consumers. I simply can't connect on that subject with Rob or others because it's just not a part of my experience. At parties or gatherings, I'm often left without a damn thing to say because the conversation has strayed to TV topics and I'm the only one standing there who is competely clueless. Now I could, thanks to cable TV, catch up on all this stuff I've missed over the years, but quite frankly, I don't care to do that. I'd rather spend an hour at a party with nothing to say than to spend hours watching reruns of The Brady Bunch. Improved social interaction just isn't worth it.
THE MAN WHO BROUGHT US "PUFFIN' BILLY" IS DEAD...
I thought Captain Kangaroo took a dirt nap a long time ago...I watched that show every morning until I started kindergarten (hitler for indoctrination),and then only saw it when I was sick...I remember watching the captain while laying on my mom's big braided rug,oval in shape,that made for a race track for my matchbox cars...a living room reality when the brain is cooking at about a 101.My mom would bring me sweet hot tea and slices of toast to settle my stomach.
Tom terrific and his dog,the mighty manfred....Mr. Moose and Rabbit,and Mr. green jeans...who knew that was Frank Zappa/Frank Zappa's dad???That played for great folklore when I was a hair farming pot head in the 70's.
I learned to make cool things out of shoe boxes,construction paper and glue and brads...I can't believe I'm remembering these things.
But mostly I remember the sense of belonging,of well being...of being part of something so...so kangaroo...
Thank you Captain, and fare thee well.
I thought Captain Kangaroo took a dirt nap a long time ago...I watched that show every morning until I started kindergarten (hitler for indoctrination),and then only saw it when I was sick...I remember watching the captain while laying on my mom's big braided rug,oval in shape,that made for a race track for my matchbox cars...a living room reality when the brain is cooking at about a 101.My mom would bring me sweet hot tea and slices of toast to settle my stomach.
Tom terrific and his dog,the mighty manfred....Mr. Moose and Rabbit,and Mr. green jeans...who knew that was Frank Zappa/Frank Zappa's dad???That played for great folklore when I was a hair farming pot head in the 70's.
I learned to make cool things out of shoe boxes,construction paper and glue and brads...I can't believe I'm remembering these things.
But mostly I remember the sense of belonging,of well being...of being part of something so...so kangaroo...
Thank you Captain, and fare thee well.
The whiskey (aka Jack Daniels), lemon, honey cough syrup recipe
Okay, for all you Google folks searching for this that keep landing here...
Mom's mix: one tablespoon whiskey, one tablespoon honey, one tablespoon lemon juice.
Mom's dosage amounts: for kids, one tablespoon of mix; adults drink the whole thing.
Ann's "I need to sleep" recipe: one ounce whiskey, 1/2 ounce lemon juice, one tablespoon honey. Optional: zap it in the microwave. Adults only, drink it all. Repeat every hour or so until you finally conk out. Within reason here; if you've got a really bad cough and this doesn't help after a few hours then you probably need to go see a doctor.
Okay, for all you Google folks searching for this that keep landing here...
Mom's mix: one tablespoon whiskey, one tablespoon honey, one tablespoon lemon juice.
Mom's dosage amounts: for kids, one tablespoon of mix; adults drink the whole thing.
Ann's "I need to sleep" recipe: one ounce whiskey, 1/2 ounce lemon juice, one tablespoon honey. Optional: zap it in the microwave. Adults only, drink it all. Repeat every hour or so until you finally conk out. Within reason here; if you've got a really bad cough and this doesn't help after a few hours then you probably need to go see a doctor.
The job hunt
I suppose the big news from me is that I've had a few job interviews this last week; several phone interviews and one in-person today. All for the same job as they are being very picky about who they hire and I won't know until next week what the final outcome will be. I completely understand why they are being picky so none of this bothers me. Sometimes when you hear "we need the right person" it's nothing but smoke up your ass, but in this case, it's justified. So am I the right person for the job? Honestly, I'm not in a position to judge. I've got the skills they need, in fact, far more skills than they need, but this is a job where personality is more of a key factor than skills and only my interviewers can make that call. I'd really like to get this job. I don't care that it's low pay and no benefits because that has never meant much to me. I'd rather make minimum wage at a job I believed in than earn a fabulous salary at some heartless corporation (I've done both.) For me, work is all about doing meaningful work, not about how fat a paycheck I can earn. This is a place that does meaningful work; it has heart and soul and there are good people there, but as much as I'd like to have the job, it won't benefit the company or me if I'm not the "right person" so I'm cool with whatever they decide. What will be, will be....
I suppose the big news from me is that I've had a few job interviews this last week; several phone interviews and one in-person today. All for the same job as they are being very picky about who they hire and I won't know until next week what the final outcome will be. I completely understand why they are being picky so none of this bothers me. Sometimes when you hear "we need the right person" it's nothing but smoke up your ass, but in this case, it's justified. So am I the right person for the job? Honestly, I'm not in a position to judge. I've got the skills they need, in fact, far more skills than they need, but this is a job where personality is more of a key factor than skills and only my interviewers can make that call. I'd really like to get this job. I don't care that it's low pay and no benefits because that has never meant much to me. I'd rather make minimum wage at a job I believed in than earn a fabulous salary at some heartless corporation (I've done both.) For me, work is all about doing meaningful work, not about how fat a paycheck I can earn. This is a place that does meaningful work; it has heart and soul and there are good people there, but as much as I'd like to have the job, it won't benefit the company or me if I'm not the "right person" so I'm cool with whatever they decide. What will be, will be....
THE FRIDAY FIVE:
1.With all the craziness lately,I'd have to say my current fave is Korn's "Reclaim my space"...and only because of the excellently inflected "What the f*ck"?!? over and over and over......
2.The curried chicken at Twin Dragon,or maybe twice cooked pork(which smells like a diaper,but tastes like heaven!)
3.Tough Crowd....really good season so far.
4.Indica,man,Indica...I haven't smoked in quite awhile,but happened to be in the vicinity when some was this week...there's nothing quite like the smell of kind.......:)
5."you don't get tattoos,you earn them"....unknown.After watching my son grit his teeth and make faces like there was some sort of unsavory prison activity going on,This little gem rings true.
Have a great weekend
1.With all the craziness lately,I'd have to say my current fave is Korn's "Reclaim my space"...and only because of the excellently inflected "What the f*ck"?!? over and over and over......
2.The curried chicken at Twin Dragon,or maybe twice cooked pork(which smells like a diaper,but tastes like heaven!)
3.Tough Crowd....really good season so far.
4.Indica,man,Indica...I haven't smoked in quite awhile,but happened to be in the vicinity when some was this week...there's nothing quite like the smell of kind.......:)
5."you don't get tattoos,you earn them"....unknown.After watching my son grit his teeth and make faces like there was some sort of unsavory prison activity going on,This little gem rings true.
Have a great weekend
Thursday, January 22, 2004
THE BEAT DOWN
I spent an inordinate amount of time on the phone with various banks, title companies and county agencies trying to figure out where this lien of '77 came from.See:Travels with murphy My last conversation with my loan closer ended like this: Her:"I asked the title company to check again to make sure there wasn't another...pause...there wasn't a mistake made on the first check". "You have to try to be patient".Patient!?Come on! We're headed into day 42 of this god damn nightmare...I have done 90% of the leg work for your (let's all laugh together) "Title Company" and you have the balls to tell me to be patient!???
I wanted to say that,but when your dealing with someone who is going to loan you money,you bite your tongue...almost off today.
She also informed me that if we didn't close by the end of the month,I would have to reapply...all I could muster at that point was..."you've got to be kidding me"...
Depending on who I talked to, I was told the time it would take to resolve this issue was anywhere from a week to a month or more.
I contacted the mortgage company I had paid off and inquired about the release of lien and was told it had been filed and recorded on nov.3,2003.
Now...I asked myself,If the release was filed and recorded by my mortgage company how could the lien from the original mortgage still be on record? It can't is the simple answer.
I called the county office of records and inquired,and sure enough,they had my release of lien on file...not only that, I could get a copy of it...for a dollar. A GOD DAMN DOLLAR!
So, I drove to the records office,and in less than 5 minutes,I had the document in my hands.They also had a bank of computers that were available for public use...AT NO COST! In another 5 minutes,I learned that my property was free of ANY liens...FOR FREE!So,let's recap:
Bank: 41 days and counting...still haven't gotten it right.
Me: 5 min. phone call, 10 minute drive,10 minutes at the records office, 10 minute drive back to the shop...35 minutes to verify a clear title,AND I had the document in my possession.
Not bad for a parts manager whose never worked in a bank,eh?
I faxed the document to my loan closer along with a subtly snarky note and took off my gloves and spit out my mouth guard.
We'll see what happens tomorrow.
"Look OG, I've discovered the wheel"....
I spent an inordinate amount of time on the phone with various banks, title companies and county agencies trying to figure out where this lien of '77 came from.See:Travels with murphy My last conversation with my loan closer ended like this: Her:"I asked the title company to check again to make sure there wasn't another...pause...there wasn't a mistake made on the first check". "You have to try to be patient".Patient!?Come on! We're headed into day 42 of this god damn nightmare...I have done 90% of the leg work for your (let's all laugh together) "Title Company" and you have the balls to tell me to be patient!???
I wanted to say that,but when your dealing with someone who is going to loan you money,you bite your tongue...almost off today.
She also informed me that if we didn't close by the end of the month,I would have to reapply...all I could muster at that point was..."you've got to be kidding me"...
Depending on who I talked to, I was told the time it would take to resolve this issue was anywhere from a week to a month or more.
I contacted the mortgage company I had paid off and inquired about the release of lien and was told it had been filed and recorded on nov.3,2003.
Now...I asked myself,If the release was filed and recorded by my mortgage company how could the lien from the original mortgage still be on record? It can't is the simple answer.
I called the county office of records and inquired,and sure enough,they had my release of lien on file...not only that, I could get a copy of it...for a dollar. A GOD DAMN DOLLAR!
So, I drove to the records office,and in less than 5 minutes,I had the document in my hands.They also had a bank of computers that were available for public use...AT NO COST! In another 5 minutes,I learned that my property was free of ANY liens...FOR FREE!So,let's recap:
Bank: 41 days and counting...still haven't gotten it right.
Me: 5 min. phone call, 10 minute drive,10 minutes at the records office, 10 minute drive back to the shop...35 minutes to verify a clear title,AND I had the document in my possession.
Not bad for a parts manager whose never worked in a bank,eh?
I faxed the document to my loan closer along with a subtly snarky note and took off my gloves and spit out my mouth guard.
We'll see what happens tomorrow.
"Look OG, I've discovered the wheel"....
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
THINGS ON MY MIND
Doocehad a post about her brothers dog...I read it at work...mistake.Not that being on the internet at work when it's not related to pools and spas is a mistake...PLEASE,don't make me go there.It made me cry...I'm sorry for your loss and can relate. I remembered Buddy and Skeeter and Diamond,and then I remembered Irene and Theo and Sullivan,here with us now...not those we had lost,but we love them as much if not more,maybe because of the memories of dogs gone before them.
Right on the heels ofSkot's post about his childhood dog, Andy...which I also read at work,it too made me cry.
It's been a dog death heavy week so far,which brought up the whole mortality thing for me...Theo and Irene are starting to show some grey...they are not too long in the tooth,but I refer to Theo as "old Man" more often these days,and feel funny about calling Irene my "little girl"...when in reality she is my "middle aged woman".
I can't forget Cypress...who was killed by Pit Bulls in his own back yard so many years ago...but the sight of him dead is (excuse the expression) a bad trip tattooed on my brain. ( I killed the dogs responsible...and ,to be honest,I enjoyed it at the time...revenge if you will...I have come to regret killing them,they were the victims of an owner who was obviously compensating for his small penis).
Kind of like those guys with the really big trucks,all jacked up with the big fat tires in direct contradiction to their withered appendages.But I digress.
Back to the dog thing...
Once,when I was out in the field cleaning pools,I was attacked by a group of dachshunds....really! They chased me around and around until I bailed onto the trunk of a car,safe from their pointy, frothy teeth.I was wearing sandals that day.When I went back to clean that pool on the following week I wore my 8 hole steel-toed docs,designed to propel said weinerdogs into the stratosphere...they were safely esconsed in their own back yard,unable to harass me. Would I have really kicked them into next tuesday?Not likely...I would have more likely scratched the trunk of the car up with my punk-ass steel toed boots.:)
Enough about dogs.
The state of the union address:
We are in deep DEEP trouble,and everyone seems to be aware of this except the people that matter...and in this case,the people that matter apparently don't give a shit about everyone who knows the trouble we're in...I am deeply concerned...but they don't care about what I think...If I speak my mind enough,they will find me and send me to GITMO.
So I better watch it,measure my rants and try to stay above that ever shrinking bar of patriotism...Ashcroftphobia is a good thing,apparently...who wants to deal with a man who is disturbed by concrete breasts and calico cats?
OK...I have officially moved into rambling....
I'll shut up
for now
Doocehad a post about her brothers dog...I read it at work...mistake.Not that being on the internet at work when it's not related to pools and spas is a mistake...PLEASE,don't make me go there.It made me cry...I'm sorry for your loss and can relate. I remembered Buddy and Skeeter and Diamond,and then I remembered Irene and Theo and Sullivan,here with us now...not those we had lost,but we love them as much if not more,maybe because of the memories of dogs gone before them.
Right on the heels ofSkot's post about his childhood dog, Andy...which I also read at work,it too made me cry.
It's been a dog death heavy week so far,which brought up the whole mortality thing for me...Theo and Irene are starting to show some grey...they are not too long in the tooth,but I refer to Theo as "old Man" more often these days,and feel funny about calling Irene my "little girl"...when in reality she is my "middle aged woman".
I can't forget Cypress...who was killed by Pit Bulls in his own back yard so many years ago...but the sight of him dead is (excuse the expression) a bad trip tattooed on my brain. ( I killed the dogs responsible...and ,to be honest,I enjoyed it at the time...revenge if you will...I have come to regret killing them,they were the victims of an owner who was obviously compensating for his small penis).
Kind of like those guys with the really big trucks,all jacked up with the big fat tires in direct contradiction to their withered appendages.But I digress.
Back to the dog thing...
Once,when I was out in the field cleaning pools,I was attacked by a group of dachshunds....really! They chased me around and around until I bailed onto the trunk of a car,safe from their pointy, frothy teeth.I was wearing sandals that day.When I went back to clean that pool on the following week I wore my 8 hole steel-toed docs,designed to propel said weinerdogs into the stratosphere...they were safely esconsed in their own back yard,unable to harass me. Would I have really kicked them into next tuesday?Not likely...I would have more likely scratched the trunk of the car up with my punk-ass steel toed boots.:)
Enough about dogs.
The state of the union address:
We are in deep DEEP trouble,and everyone seems to be aware of this except the people that matter...and in this case,the people that matter apparently don't give a shit about everyone who knows the trouble we're in...I am deeply concerned...but they don't care about what I think...If I speak my mind enough,they will find me and send me to GITMO.
So I better watch it,measure my rants and try to stay above that ever shrinking bar of patriotism...Ashcroftphobia is a good thing,apparently...who wants to deal with a man who is disturbed by concrete breasts and calico cats?
OK...I have officially moved into rambling....
I'll shut up
for now
TRAVELS WITH MURPHY
If it could go wrong today,it did.Not horribly wrong,just enough to tweak you out. My son is going to school and working (mostly graveyard shifts recently) and in a gallant effort to coordinate our day of tattooing,decided he would come to our house after work and nap here until it was time to go see Andreas...to insure he wouldn't fall asleep at his place and be late/miss our appointment.Guess what?He got off early and decided to go to his place for a short nap...when he wasn't here by 10,I called and woke him up,he said he was getting ready and would see me here at 11:30,at 11:45 I called and woke him up again...I headed on over to andreas' and told my son to go to a specific intersection near the place ,call my cell, and I would direct him from there.
So,by 12:45,we're all in the same spot,and the drawing / stencil making process begins.
Wait...let's back up...when I arrived,I walked up to the door and knocked and suddenly heard a very menacing bark/growl behind me...through the bush I could see a very large Dog...Boxer?Pit Bull? Couldn't tell...but I could tell he was mean,he didn't like me,and Andreas wasn't coming to the door.As my fear rapidly rose (Just stand still was on endless replay in my head) and the dog advanced,I ran the checklist....no gun,no knife,no stick,no rocks,too far away to make a break for the car,I'm done for,I hope he has his vaccinations...please for gods sake,answer the door before it's too late!
I got in before I got attacked...Andreas explained:"That's the dog from across the street...Problems...almost killed his hosts pet awhile back...not a nice dog."
This day,so far,was not going at all as I had planned.It was a Boxer,by the way.
I get to go first, mostly because my son had been cautioned about tattoos on the lower back being more painful than the one he got on the middle of his back last year,and was freaking himself out about it.Anyway,I was done and after clean-up and reset-up,it was his turn.
Now,when getting a tattoo it's imperative that you don't twitch around like a chihuahua.Kyle was having some trouble with this initially,but managed to deal with it.
I went outside (back yard) to have a smoke and call the bank to check on the loan I was supposed to close tomorrow or friday.Or so I thought.
I was informed by the bank that they had discovered a lien on my house for 22,000 DOLLARS!!!!!WHAT??????!!!!!!!It was from 1977!!!!I was in high school in '77!!!
I have never applied for a home loan in my life,and back on Dec.11th,they made it sound like it would be easy...PAF!Instead of "loan closing" it should be called "your own personalized inquisition"(Murphy has been tailing me on this from the get go).
Oh...in all the excitement I forgot to mention that my credit union called me this morning to inform me my Visa bank card had been "compromised" and they had to cancel it...explaining why my card would not work yesterday.They couldn't explain exactly how it had gotten compromised...figures.I like simple succinct explanations about stuff like this,it makes me feel like whoever I'm dealing with has their shit all in one sock and the holes have been darned...Not so in this case,and unfortunately,not so in the case of the above mentioned loan.
If this clusters*CZ of mine is any indication of how the rest of the business world operates,it truly is a wonder we can make fire.
Back to the tattoos...We got done,they look great.Here's a picture of mine...I didn't get a picture of Kyles because I had left the camera in the car and was afraid to go get it because of that damn dog.....
Kyle's white rabbit looks great...the head is fashioned after Frank in Donnie Darko...very creepy.I'll post a pic this weekend most likely.
If it could go wrong today,it did.Not horribly wrong,just enough to tweak you out. My son is going to school and working (mostly graveyard shifts recently) and in a gallant effort to coordinate our day of tattooing,decided he would come to our house after work and nap here until it was time to go see Andreas...to insure he wouldn't fall asleep at his place and be late/miss our appointment.Guess what?He got off early and decided to go to his place for a short nap...when he wasn't here by 10,I called and woke him up,he said he was getting ready and would see me here at 11:30,at 11:45 I called and woke him up again...I headed on over to andreas' and told my son to go to a specific intersection near the place ,call my cell, and I would direct him from there.
So,by 12:45,we're all in the same spot,and the drawing / stencil making process begins.
Wait...let's back up...when I arrived,I walked up to the door and knocked and suddenly heard a very menacing bark/growl behind me...through the bush I could see a very large Dog...Boxer?Pit Bull? Couldn't tell...but I could tell he was mean,he didn't like me,and Andreas wasn't coming to the door.As my fear rapidly rose (Just stand still was on endless replay in my head) and the dog advanced,I ran the checklist....no gun,no knife,no stick,no rocks,too far away to make a break for the car,I'm done for,I hope he has his vaccinations...please for gods sake,answer the door before it's too late!
I got in before I got attacked...Andreas explained:"That's the dog from across the street...Problems...almost killed his hosts pet awhile back...not a nice dog."
This day,so far,was not going at all as I had planned.It was a Boxer,by the way.
I get to go first, mostly because my son had been cautioned about tattoos on the lower back being more painful than the one he got on the middle of his back last year,and was freaking himself out about it.Anyway,I was done and after clean-up and reset-up,it was his turn.
Now,when getting a tattoo it's imperative that you don't twitch around like a chihuahua.Kyle was having some trouble with this initially,but managed to deal with it.
I went outside (back yard) to have a smoke and call the bank to check on the loan I was supposed to close tomorrow or friday.Or so I thought.
I was informed by the bank that they had discovered a lien on my house for 22,000 DOLLARS!!!!!WHAT??????!!!!!!!It was from 1977!!!!I was in high school in '77!!!
I have never applied for a home loan in my life,and back on Dec.11th,they made it sound like it would be easy...PAF!Instead of "loan closing" it should be called "your own personalized inquisition"(Murphy has been tailing me on this from the get go).
Oh...in all the excitement I forgot to mention that my credit union called me this morning to inform me my Visa bank card had been "compromised" and they had to cancel it...explaining why my card would not work yesterday.They couldn't explain exactly how it had gotten compromised...figures.I like simple succinct explanations about stuff like this,it makes me feel like whoever I'm dealing with has their shit all in one sock and the holes have been darned...Not so in this case,and unfortunately,not so in the case of the above mentioned loan.
If this clusters*CZ of mine is any indication of how the rest of the business world operates,it truly is a wonder we can make fire.
Back to the tattoos...We got done,they look great.Here's a picture of mine...I didn't get a picture of Kyles because I had left the camera in the car and was afraid to go get it because of that damn dog.....
Kyle's white rabbit looks great...the head is fashioned after Frank in Donnie Darko...very creepy.I'll post a pic this weekend most likely.
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
WELCOME TO THE LAND OF SECOND CHANCES
And this actually fell out of the mouth of the man who put over a hundred people to death in Texas,and is responsible for the deaths of 500 in Iraq and it's forgotten cousin,Afghanistan.
I am reminded of Tom Tomorrow's excellent, precognitive take on tonight's state of the union....LIES
Lies and more lies.
What pandering snake oil salesmen his speech writers must be...Surely,the only thing the asshole in chief contributed to tonight's circle jerk was his affect disorder.
(If you're guessing I wasn't impressed,you are correct.)
Land of second chances my ass.
And this actually fell out of the mouth of the man who put over a hundred people to death in Texas,and is responsible for the deaths of 500 in Iraq and it's forgotten cousin,Afghanistan.
I am reminded of Tom Tomorrow's excellent, precognitive take on tonight's state of the union....LIES
Lies and more lies.
What pandering snake oil salesmen his speech writers must be...Surely,the only thing the asshole in chief contributed to tonight's circle jerk was his affect disorder.
(If you're guessing I wasn't impressed,you are correct.)
Land of second chances my ass.
Monday, January 19, 2004
THE ITCH
I got the itch...That tattoo itch.2 more days and I can scratch that itch. Now,I could get ink any time,I've got a leg sleeve under construction by my buddy Hez here locally,but Andreas is in town.
As I said before, he's gonna add another chapter to my son's alice in wonderland backpiece and do some knuckle work on me...Should I do both hands now,while he's here or just do my neck hand and wait on the pick one?
Fuck it...do 'em both now.
But what about the consequences?
I remember when I went below the wrists Bobby Love commented "man,you're fucked now"...so...logic tells me if I was fucked then,what difference does it make if I move down from the backs of my hands to my knuckles?
Knuckles???Am I really that out of space?Not really,I still have most of my front torso to decorate,but somehow the thought of a tattoo machine going across my ribs doesn't appeal to me...knuckles I can handle...10 minutes on each one versus several hours on the same spot.
So...it's card suits on the right hand,and the crown,skull,nautical star on the left.
I can do the torso later...and I probably will.
Thanks Dad :)
I got the itch...That tattoo itch.2 more days and I can scratch that itch. Now,I could get ink any time,I've got a leg sleeve under construction by my buddy Hez here locally,but Andreas is in town.
As I said before, he's gonna add another chapter to my son's alice in wonderland backpiece and do some knuckle work on me...Should I do both hands now,while he's here or just do my neck hand and wait on the pick one?
Fuck it...do 'em both now.
But what about the consequences?
I remember when I went below the wrists Bobby Love commented "man,you're fucked now"...so...logic tells me if I was fucked then,what difference does it make if I move down from the backs of my hands to my knuckles?
Knuckles???Am I really that out of space?Not really,I still have most of my front torso to decorate,but somehow the thought of a tattoo machine going across my ribs doesn't appeal to me...knuckles I can handle...10 minutes on each one versus several hours on the same spot.
So...it's card suits on the right hand,and the crown,skull,nautical star on the left.
I can do the torso later...and I probably will.
Thanks Dad :)
DOWN THE PRIMROSE PATH...
I cannot wait for the state of the bulshi..er...union address by sir bunnypants tomorrow.
What's in store? Lot's of distortions about his accomplishments and a heapin' helpin' of horse shit initiatives...lets review:
The marriage thing:really,when you get right down to it, it's 1.5 billion aimed at undermining the gay/lesbian members of our "society" and the gains they have struggled to make (this earns him 500 fuck yous)
The moon/mars nonsense: just a diversion,plain and simple.A lame assed attempt to refocus the public on how great we are...kind of like putting foundation on that red,oozing herpe sore on your face...everyone knows it's there,but we'll pretend it isn't. (1000 fuck yous)
The immigrant amnesty: If you want to blow fox,go ahead and blow him...please.(1500 fuck yous)
Winning the war on terror: You don't have a fucking clue, 500 + dead and gone after you declared "mission accomplished"...they brought it on and you are confirmed an asshole. (150,000 fuck yous)
Afghanistan: Who??? (get your war on) (300,000 fuck yous)
The erosion of our civil rights...don't need to elaborate (more fuck yous than I can count)...but this is something you'll couch in phrases designed to make us feel safe.
Fuck feelings! We aren't safe,and no matter how much smoke you blow won't change that fact.
A divided democratic party: Your bullshit and spin is working on them...and their sniping and derision will work for you just like you planned it. (still can't count that high).
A long time ago, a band called Flux of Pink Indians cried to the world,"they lie,we die" and sang " to blow this world up ten times is better than to blow it up once"...they were talking about britain, little did they know....
This is what needs to be happening:
Get out of Iraq et al...and soon.
Leave the middle east to the middle east...if they want to destroy each other,let 'em,we can always go in and mop up when they're done.Until then,it's really none of our business.
If they fuck with us,we fuck back,but not until.
Focus on US...remember US? Were hurting here.
Make amends with all the countries we've alienated...
Purge the government of the staph infection that is the republican party...starting with GW Bush (and please bunnypants...don't come back to texas)
Wow! That felt good...too bad I'm probably just pissin' in the wind....
I cannot wait for the state of the bulshi..er...union address by sir bunnypants tomorrow.
What's in store? Lot's of distortions about his accomplishments and a heapin' helpin' of horse shit initiatives...lets review:
The marriage thing:really,when you get right down to it, it's 1.5 billion aimed at undermining the gay/lesbian members of our "society" and the gains they have struggled to make (this earns him 500 fuck yous)
The moon/mars nonsense: just a diversion,plain and simple.A lame assed attempt to refocus the public on how great we are...kind of like putting foundation on that red,oozing herpe sore on your face...everyone knows it's there,but we'll pretend it isn't. (1000 fuck yous)
The immigrant amnesty: If you want to blow fox,go ahead and blow him...please.(1500 fuck yous)
Winning the war on terror: You don't have a fucking clue, 500 + dead and gone after you declared "mission accomplished"...they brought it on and you are confirmed an asshole. (150,000 fuck yous)
Afghanistan: Who??? (get your war on) (300,000 fuck yous)
The erosion of our civil rights...don't need to elaborate (more fuck yous than I can count)...but this is something you'll couch in phrases designed to make us feel safe.
Fuck feelings! We aren't safe,and no matter how much smoke you blow won't change that fact.
A divided democratic party: Your bullshit and spin is working on them...and their sniping and derision will work for you just like you planned it. (still can't count that high).
A long time ago, a band called Flux of Pink Indians cried to the world,"they lie,we die" and sang " to blow this world up ten times is better than to blow it up once"...they were talking about britain, little did they know....
This is what needs to be happening:
Get out of Iraq et al...and soon.
Leave the middle east to the middle east...if they want to destroy each other,let 'em,we can always go in and mop up when they're done.Until then,it's really none of our business.
If they fuck with us,we fuck back,but not until.
Focus on US...remember US? Were hurting here.
Make amends with all the countries we've alienated...
Purge the government of the staph infection that is the republican party...starting with GW Bush (and please bunnypants...don't come back to texas)
Wow! That felt good...too bad I'm probably just pissin' in the wind....
Sunday, January 18, 2004
THE TURTLE THING
I have turtles as pets...lots of them...30 to be exact.I used to have more,but I released my aquatic turtles summer before last and in the 6 years I've been doing the turtle thing I've lost 6...all to natural causes except for 2, Mauricio,a central american wood turtle,who was eaten by rats and houdini,a red eared slider, who was eviserated by the main drain in his pond.
I used to belong to and subscribe to a few of the many turtle organizations/web forums,but not anymore...not for a year or more. The overwhelming majority of these groups are harmless enough...advocates for turtle conservation.Believe it or not,turtles are a threatened species worldwide...especially in Asia...where they are being eaten out of existance,literally.
Some of the individuals involved are bored soccer moms with too much time on their hands,prone to engaging in bullshit politics.Some are like me,I just like turtles and wanted to be an advocate.And some are,quite simply,not right in the head.
It was the not right in the head variety that drove me to drop my connections with the online turtle community.
There was once a website called Turtle Cafe, out of austin,the owner was a woman who went by TCC,she had a shitload of turtles and tortoises and sold grazing foods for the tortoises.I knew her online at first,and was honored to be invited to her place, I helped her out with rescues and the general business of keeping turtles.She was a little eccentric...ok...alot,but she was a beautiful person,fragile to be sure,but beautiful none the less.She was a kindred spirit and I felt a connection with her.
There was this other site in california that was in competetion for the tortoise grazing business on the internet,and they would fuck with TCC...Once they posted a picture of her at one of those websites "whose hot,whose not" or some such nonsence...it was a picture of TCC with one of her tortoises,only they photoshopped some boobs onto her body...along with this they bombarded her with threatening emails and posted all manner of bullshit all over the turtle community about her.This was a mistake.Almost everyone in the community had an opinion about it...but most were lame ass about it, a few came to her defense,but not many.TCC killed herself.And that was the end of my affiliation with the turtle community online. If I ever have the opportunity to come face to face with the individuals that pushed my friend over the edge,they will be truly sorry...in that "this is worse than death" kind of way...if you know what I mean.
So now I do my turtle thing on my own,with a few local people.My server is currently down,but I still have a website-turtopia.com-that provides info to people interested in keeping turtles.
Turtles are fascinating creatures,ancient,complex,individual...I could go on and on,but I won't.
TCC gave me a bottle of home made cactus wine a few years back, I can't bring myself to open it...so it sits in my wine rack gathering dust,a memory of a friend I didn't get to know long enough.
I have turtles as pets...lots of them...30 to be exact.I used to have more,but I released my aquatic turtles summer before last and in the 6 years I've been doing the turtle thing I've lost 6...all to natural causes except for 2, Mauricio,a central american wood turtle,who was eaten by rats and houdini,a red eared slider, who was eviserated by the main drain in his pond.
I used to belong to and subscribe to a few of the many turtle organizations/web forums,but not anymore...not for a year or more. The overwhelming majority of these groups are harmless enough...advocates for turtle conservation.Believe it or not,turtles are a threatened species worldwide...especially in Asia...where they are being eaten out of existance,literally.
Some of the individuals involved are bored soccer moms with too much time on their hands,prone to engaging in bullshit politics.Some are like me,I just like turtles and wanted to be an advocate.And some are,quite simply,not right in the head.
It was the not right in the head variety that drove me to drop my connections with the online turtle community.
There was once a website called Turtle Cafe, out of austin,the owner was a woman who went by TCC,she had a shitload of turtles and tortoises and sold grazing foods for the tortoises.I knew her online at first,and was honored to be invited to her place, I helped her out with rescues and the general business of keeping turtles.She was a little eccentric...ok...alot,but she was a beautiful person,fragile to be sure,but beautiful none the less.She was a kindred spirit and I felt a connection with her.
There was this other site in california that was in competetion for the tortoise grazing business on the internet,and they would fuck with TCC...Once they posted a picture of her at one of those websites "whose hot,whose not" or some such nonsence...it was a picture of TCC with one of her tortoises,only they photoshopped some boobs onto her body...along with this they bombarded her with threatening emails and posted all manner of bullshit all over the turtle community about her.This was a mistake.Almost everyone in the community had an opinion about it...but most were lame ass about it, a few came to her defense,but not many.TCC killed herself.And that was the end of my affiliation with the turtle community online. If I ever have the opportunity to come face to face with the individuals that pushed my friend over the edge,they will be truly sorry...in that "this is worse than death" kind of way...if you know what I mean.
So now I do my turtle thing on my own,with a few local people.My server is currently down,but I still have a website-turtopia.com-that provides info to people interested in keeping turtles.
Turtles are fascinating creatures,ancient,complex,individual...I could go on and on,but I won't.
TCC gave me a bottle of home made cactus wine a few years back, I can't bring myself to open it...so it sits in my wine rack gathering dust,a memory of a friend I didn't get to know long enough.
Friday, January 16, 2004
FUN WITH TECHNOLOGY
It rained off and on all day,and that's bad for the pool business.It was very,VERY slow around the shop,that is, until we discovered that our extremely techno-phobic outside salesman forgot to log out of his email yesterday!
We decided to send text messages to his phone using his email...but there had to be a rule,and the rule was:
Every text message had to contain the words asshat and fuckstick...Brilliant!
Here we go!!!
8:39am:Hey asshat I dropped my fuckstick.
12:10pm:HEY ASSHAT! FIND YOUR FUCKSTICK YET?
1:31pm:HELLOOO ASSHAT,WANT TO BUY MY FUCKSTICK?
3:10pm:Stop playing with your fuckstick,Asshat!
3:38pm:CALL 1-800-ASSHATT
TO GET YOUR FREE FUCKSTICK!!!
I know it sounds incredibly juvenile and asinine,but I don't think I've laughed that hard in months!
Moving along....
I've been trying to figure out what president bunnypants is really up to with his recent slew of initiatives besides the obvious motive of blowing the most smoke possible up our collective asses...I've come up with a six ways to kevin baconesque theory on what his ultimate ulterior motive might be:
1.Amnesty for illegal aliens...this will bring many of them out into the open,where they can be rounded up and sent to camps where they will "benefit" from:
2.The marriage initiative or whatever this multibillion dollar scam is called: so they can be brainwashed with the basic family values that will keep the families intact while they slowly lose their minds waiting:
3.On that permanent base he's planning on building on the moon as a way station to the :
4.Mining operations on mars
Bunnypants knows whose good with a shovel...Rat Bastard.
It rained off and on all day,and that's bad for the pool business.It was very,VERY slow around the shop,that is, until we discovered that our extremely techno-phobic outside salesman forgot to log out of his email yesterday!
We decided to send text messages to his phone using his email...but there had to be a rule,and the rule was:
Every text message had to contain the words asshat and fuckstick...Brilliant!
Here we go!!!
8:39am:Hey asshat I dropped my fuckstick.
12:10pm:HEY ASSHAT! FIND YOUR FUCKSTICK YET?
1:31pm:HELLOOO ASSHAT,WANT TO BUY MY FUCKSTICK?
3:10pm:Stop playing with your fuckstick,Asshat!
3:38pm:CALL 1-800-ASSHATT
TO GET YOUR FREE FUCKSTICK!!!
I know it sounds incredibly juvenile and asinine,but I don't think I've laughed that hard in months!
Moving along....
I've been trying to figure out what president bunnypants is really up to with his recent slew of initiatives besides the obvious motive of blowing the most smoke possible up our collective asses...I've come up with a six ways to kevin baconesque theory on what his ultimate ulterior motive might be:
1.Amnesty for illegal aliens...this will bring many of them out into the open,where they can be rounded up and sent to camps where they will "benefit" from:
2.The marriage initiative or whatever this multibillion dollar scam is called: so they can be brainwashed with the basic family values that will keep the families intact while they slowly lose their minds waiting:
3.On that permanent base he's planning on building on the moon as a way station to the :
4.Mining operations on mars
Bunnypants knows whose good with a shovel...Rat Bastard.
Thursday, January 15, 2004
TATTOOS...THEY'RE NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE...IT'S A FAMILY TRADITION
Last year,when my son turned 18, he didn't know what he wanted for his birthday...At the last minute he remembered what I had told him all his life:"If you get a tattoo before you turn 18,I promise I will REMOVE it for you. Said in that sinister dad's not fucking around here kind of way.Well, it worked...In spite of all the other misery he put me through,he believed me when I said I would remove any bullshit party tattoo he got in a most unpleasant way...He was able to resist the temptation until his 18th birthday...Then he remembered the OTHER thing I said about the subject:"If you decide you want one when you turn 18,I'll pay for it provided the artist is,well...An artist and not a needle freak (this referring to bad artists and not junkies).
Guess what he wanted for his birthday?That's right...And being a man of my word when I can't get around it,I agreed.
As luck would have it,the guy who did my back piece and whose known Kyle since he was a little boy,was in town for the tattoo convention,was available to tattoo my son.
He got a cheshire cat on his back,right between his boney shoulderblades...One of the worst possible places to get a first tattoo.He drew it himself(my son is an accomplished artist on paper and on the computer) and after a very few tattoo smart alterations, it was on...And it looked great.After it healed,we realized that the right side whiskers were missing...Understandable what with all the blood and ink spill.
So,as luck would have it,my buddy was back for the convention this year. Time to fill in the missing whiskers...And guess what my son wants for his birthday this year...That's right,another Alice in wonderland themed tattoo...And he shall have it.Drawn by him.
Last year,I got a tattoo with him,an old school lucky 13 horseshoe...This year it's knuckle tats of a crown,a skull and a nautical star.Father and son tattoos might sound kind of strange but me and my dad did the very same thing,in the very shop where my friend worked when he was in Texas,when he met my son.
Some fathers and sons fish or golf together,we get tattooed together.
I look at the tattoos I got with my dad and I smile at the memories...I look at the tattoo I got with my son and I smile at the memories so far and the memories to come.
Happy birthday Kyle...I'm looking forward to watching you make the "bitch face"(means OUCH!) and hope you don't notice when I make mine:).
Last year,when my son turned 18, he didn't know what he wanted for his birthday...At the last minute he remembered what I had told him all his life:"If you get a tattoo before you turn 18,I promise I will REMOVE it for you. Said in that sinister dad's not fucking around here kind of way.Well, it worked...In spite of all the other misery he put me through,he believed me when I said I would remove any bullshit party tattoo he got in a most unpleasant way...He was able to resist the temptation until his 18th birthday...Then he remembered the OTHER thing I said about the subject:"If you decide you want one when you turn 18,I'll pay for it provided the artist is,well...An artist and not a needle freak (this referring to bad artists and not junkies).
Guess what he wanted for his birthday?That's right...And being a man of my word when I can't get around it,I agreed.
As luck would have it,the guy who did my back piece and whose known Kyle since he was a little boy,was in town for the tattoo convention,was available to tattoo my son.
He got a cheshire cat on his back,right between his boney shoulderblades...One of the worst possible places to get a first tattoo.He drew it himself(my son is an accomplished artist on paper and on the computer) and after a very few tattoo smart alterations, it was on...And it looked great.After it healed,we realized that the right side whiskers were missing...Understandable what with all the blood and ink spill.
So,as luck would have it,my buddy was back for the convention this year. Time to fill in the missing whiskers...And guess what my son wants for his birthday this year...That's right,another Alice in wonderland themed tattoo...And he shall have it.Drawn by him.
Last year,I got a tattoo with him,an old school lucky 13 horseshoe...This year it's knuckle tats of a crown,a skull and a nautical star.Father and son tattoos might sound kind of strange but me and my dad did the very same thing,in the very shop where my friend worked when he was in Texas,when he met my son.
Some fathers and sons fish or golf together,we get tattooed together.
I look at the tattoos I got with my dad and I smile at the memories...I look at the tattoo I got with my son and I smile at the memories so far and the memories to come.
Happy birthday Kyle...I'm looking forward to watching you make the "bitch face"(means OUCH!) and hope you don't notice when I make mine:).
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
DO YOU WANT THE BLUE PILL OR THE RED ONE?BOTH??
Where I work,I am blessed/cursed with working with some friends...I hold most of the other employees in high regard and occasionally socialize away from work with them all.
There are a few that are just co-workers.
The problem is the ones I'm closest to...these are the guys that got me the job in the first place and the owner of the company.
Back in the social worker days I was friends with peers and subordinates...hell I even slept with a few of them and lived with one for 8 years...but,being social workers,we had a twisted kind of bond that allowed us to be brutally honest with each other in the name of the job,treating the patient.We also had the uncanny ability to separate our own less than moral behavior from the morals we espoused to our patients,the details of which I won't go into...it was do what I say,not what I do,and what I do when I'm not here is none of your business,your business is why are you here?and what do you need to do to get back in the world and start acting like I do when I'm not here.It was done in a honest,open way,in front of everyone else...a critique presented in the spirit of strengthening the team.We were all focused on one goal,the maintenance of a therapeutic milieu.Critiques were not taken personally,as a rule,and if they were it was sorted out right away.
The people I work with now are NOT social workers,and have a rudimentary concept of what it means to be a team player. You have to watch what you say.The politics are different.
The farther away I get from what I did back in the day,the more confused I get.I can't be honest anymore without wondering if it's gonna come back and bite me on the ass,under any circumstance.
Back in the day,there was a clear code of conduct...there are no clear parameters anymore...I am frequently reminded of that scene from Apocalypse Now where captain willard asks the wild eyed grunt in the trench "who's in charge here soldier"? And the reply is a manic "Ain't you"?!
Responsibility and accountability is a game of hot potato...I try to set an example by owning up to my mistakes,and when I do,it's almost like I've ruined the game.If I can't legitimately point to someone else,I don't.And on the occasions when I can and do,I always get a sick feeling about doing it .
Back in the day,loyalty and trust was the foundation...today they feel more like shifting fields,changing everyday given the turf we find ourselves deployed on.
And I ask myself which experience is the real experience?It's the same game...only the rules are different somehow,and even after 6 years in this job I still haven't lost my memory of how it was,back in the day.
And I'm beginning to realize,that, while we were honest with each other,what we did was artificial , a cartoon of real life. A construct of the world, as seen through the eyes of a bunch of people with degrees in psychology imposing this reality on people who came from the real world...the one I'm in now.
Learning to be careful is hard.
Where I work,I am blessed/cursed with working with some friends...I hold most of the other employees in high regard and occasionally socialize away from work with them all.
There are a few that are just co-workers.
The problem is the ones I'm closest to...these are the guys that got me the job in the first place and the owner of the company.
Back in the social worker days I was friends with peers and subordinates...hell I even slept with a few of them and lived with one for 8 years...but,being social workers,we had a twisted kind of bond that allowed us to be brutally honest with each other in the name of the job,treating the patient.We also had the uncanny ability to separate our own less than moral behavior from the morals we espoused to our patients,the details of which I won't go into...it was do what I say,not what I do,and what I do when I'm not here is none of your business,your business is why are you here?and what do you need to do to get back in the world and start acting like I do when I'm not here.It was done in a honest,open way,in front of everyone else...a critique presented in the spirit of strengthening the team.We were all focused on one goal,the maintenance of a therapeutic milieu.Critiques were not taken personally,as a rule,and if they were it was sorted out right away.
The people I work with now are NOT social workers,and have a rudimentary concept of what it means to be a team player. You have to watch what you say.The politics are different.
The farther away I get from what I did back in the day,the more confused I get.I can't be honest anymore without wondering if it's gonna come back and bite me on the ass,under any circumstance.
Back in the day,there was a clear code of conduct...there are no clear parameters anymore...I am frequently reminded of that scene from Apocalypse Now where captain willard asks the wild eyed grunt in the trench "who's in charge here soldier"? And the reply is a manic "Ain't you"?!
Responsibility and accountability is a game of hot potato...I try to set an example by owning up to my mistakes,and when I do,it's almost like I've ruined the game.If I can't legitimately point to someone else,I don't.And on the occasions when I can and do,I always get a sick feeling about doing it .
Back in the day,loyalty and trust was the foundation...today they feel more like shifting fields,changing everyday given the turf we find ourselves deployed on.
And I ask myself which experience is the real experience?It's the same game...only the rules are different somehow,and even after 6 years in this job I still haven't lost my memory of how it was,back in the day.
And I'm beginning to realize,that, while we were honest with each other,what we did was artificial , a cartoon of real life. A construct of the world, as seen through the eyes of a bunch of people with degrees in psychology imposing this reality on people who came from the real world...the one I'm in now.
Learning to be careful is hard.
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
I have the best husband in the world (for me, anyway)
You may have picked up from Rob's post yesterday mentioning tampons that I'm riding the red ball express, on the rag, Aunt Flo is visiting, oh hell, I can't remember the rest of the euphemisms. This, no doubt, explains some of my frustration level with the enetation comments, but I usually don't get the PMS variety that has me going after Rob with a butcher knife because he left the cap off the toothpaste. I do, however, get an intense craving for school cafeteria food around this time. I think it's the fat content because this is also the only time I have any interest in chocolate. And Rob, being the incredibly wise and sensitive man that he is, has cooked me a dinner consisting of Sloppy Joes and Macaroni and Cheese. Ah, perfection! I am SO spoiled.
You may have picked up from Rob's post yesterday mentioning tampons that I'm riding the red ball express, on the rag, Aunt Flo is visiting, oh hell, I can't remember the rest of the euphemisms. This, no doubt, explains some of my frustration level with the enetation comments, but I usually don't get the PMS variety that has me going after Rob with a butcher knife because he left the cap off the toothpaste. I do, however, get an intense craving for school cafeteria food around this time. I think it's the fat content because this is also the only time I have any interest in chocolate. And Rob, being the incredibly wise and sensitive man that he is, has cooked me a dinner consisting of Sloppy Joes and Macaroni and Cheese. Ah, perfection! I am SO spoiled.
Friendster
Circumstances involving bookmyband required I join Friendster today. So I've got only one friend in the network and yet I find this:
Your Personal Network currently contains 67182 people.
You can increase the size of your Personal Network by Inviting more friends.
Egads! Why would I want to increase the size of my Personal Network if it's already the size of a small city?
--P.S. If you want to endure the server lag and find me on Friendster, it's ann@bookmyband.com. Because I really needed that twelfth email address...
Circumstances involving bookmyband required I join Friendster today. So I've got only one friend in the network and yet I find this:
Your Personal Network currently contains 67182 people.
You can increase the size of your Personal Network by Inviting more friends.
Egads! Why would I want to increase the size of my Personal Network if it's already the size of a small city?
--P.S. If you want to endure the server lag and find me on Friendster, it's ann@bookmyband.com. Because I really needed that twelfth email address...
The info I want is not on this highway...
I had one of my recurring dreams last night and figured I just might find a clue on the internet about it's meaning. It's a dream that I'm drowning, but it has a weird twist to it. In the dream I realize that I'm still breathing and at this point I get the equivalent of a "does not compute" error message and I wake up. I know that drowning dreams are very common and usually represent feeling overwhelmed, but I've never seen this twist mentioned in anything I found on the internet. Besides, I usually dream about elevators when I'm feeling overwhelmed. My drowning dreams always end this way and I've had them before, the first one when I was a kid, but they are spaced so many years apart that I can't come up with a common denominator of "issues". And why the "does not compute" ending instead of just a realization that I'm dreaming? I suppose this is one downfall of not having a job; too much time for navel gazing.
I had one of my recurring dreams last night and figured I just might find a clue on the internet about it's meaning. It's a dream that I'm drowning, but it has a weird twist to it. In the dream I realize that I'm still breathing and at this point I get the equivalent of a "does not compute" error message and I wake up. I know that drowning dreams are very common and usually represent feeling overwhelmed, but I've never seen this twist mentioned in anything I found on the internet. Besides, I usually dream about elevators when I'm feeling overwhelmed. My drowning dreams always end this way and I've had them before, the first one when I was a kid, but they are spaced so many years apart that I can't come up with a common denominator of "issues". And why the "does not compute" ending instead of just a realization that I'm dreaming? I suppose this is one downfall of not having a job; too much time for navel gazing.
Monday, January 12, 2004
MONDAY-MONDAY-MONDAY...
Work was the usual...We are switching over to a new record keeping system (to launch jan.1...that should give you an idea of how well it's going) that is woefully inadequate in the area of purchase orders and inventory control...my primary area of responsibility.
The owner has a penchant for asking me questions about ordered parts when it's time to pay the invoices...if it goes beyond my 2 week limit to remembering things purchased and why,I could pull up the information in no time in our old system and address his concerns.
This is a luxury we no longer have.Purchase orders will now be received when the ap clerk pays the invoice...weeks after the part has been ordered and installed and billed to the customer...we have a hard time keeping up with it now, I can only imagine the problems ahead.
Despite this,I am trying to be proactive and positive and figure out a way to make this retarded cousin of what we had work. It looks like I'll have to develop a manual system to track parts...a step backwards.
But,you get what you pay for I guess,and the dispatching/scheduling module is fantastic.
After lunch,we were outside smoking and the AP clerk wondered out loud what that brown lump was in the field behind our shop...was it a dog?was it dead? The cleaning manager and I decided it was a deer,but drove over to investigate.Driving across the field in my rodeo made me feel like one of those adventurer guys on the discovery channel.When we got to the brown lump,it looked at us...exposing the face of the biggest pit bull I'd seen since the ones I shot in my back yard 9 years ago.He was huge! He got up,moved about 10 feet away and lay down again.
Since neither of us have a concealed carry permit (yet) ,we decided to go back to the shop and call animal control...about thirty minutes later,animal control shows up,the dog hadn't moved...we pointed him out and the AC guy went off to capture the dog...we got ring side seats to watch the drama unfold.
He approached the dog in his truck,and when he got too close,the dog got up,moved about 10 feet away and lay down again.AC guy got out of his truck and produced a giant butterfly net(!!???this is a 100 lb. PIT BULL,with a formidible nutsack-intact!) and then a catch pole/noose and approached the dog.
The chase was on! The dog took off...not in that "oh no! it's the dog catcher" panic,but more like a saunter like he was saying "ok,I'm leaving...don't fuck with me or I'll rip you and your silly net to shreds".
The dog won,he got away...no injuries to either party.The AC guy came back to shop and wondered if there was a bitch in heat somewhere. I remembered the look the dog gave us,and then I remembered the look my old dog Buddy used to get when the scent was in the air...then later I noticed the neighbors white german Sheppard sniffing at the sky wanfully. Then I felt bad,this poor dog was just trying to get laid and we cockblocked him.
Finally the end of the day...Ann and I decided on dinner and I headed to the grocery,where it was,unfortunately,not the end of the day...all the stress and frustration that was abscent from work was waiting for me there,at the grocery store we refer to as the "third world grocery".
We are item specific shoppers,and can usually get in the 10 items or less line...commonly referred to as the "express lane"...as far as this store is concerned,express lane is a cruel,cruel joke.
This store is like a live version of the game doom...each aisle is a level presenting it's own challenge and,instead of guns and lasers,your weapons are you cart and your facial expressions.Instead of orcs and demons,your enemys are the predominantly non english speaking customers whose weapons are thier carts,their litter of unruly children running around with no parental intervention and the obvious disdain they have for you,the 40 something white guy. (a clarification here,I do not consider myself a racist...I grew up in the south around people of color,knew their families,played with them and grew up to work in diverse workplaces with harmony and an understanding that we are all just folks...I have also shopped in other stores,in predominantly white areas of town and had the same experiences...except in those cases I was the 40 something white guy who should be shopping where I belong...with that said...)
They block the ailses,they park in the middle of the ailses 2 carts abreast and talk in a language I don't understand and give me those looks...the looks are the worst thing,I try to smile and stand there,blocked,my polite requests of "excuse me" go unheeded.Oh yeah...I forgot...they"don't understand english" how god damn convenient.So I turn around (if I can) and retreat,I will attempt this level later and now head to the Pharmacy of hell level,where on a good day,the wait is only 30 minutes,and none of the customers speak english,get way more medication than I get,whip out that medicaid/WIC/whatever card and pay 10 dollars,while I,even with insurance,pay 100...I made it through the pharmacy level,but it cost me.
Then,on to the tampon ailse level(yes...I buy tampons for Ann,it doesn't bother me,I've heard it's an issue for some guys and to this I say get over it you big baby)...today there were three twenty-something girls bogarting the tampon area... waving around various boxes of 'poons and I guess discussing the merits of each...I couldn't understand what they were saying,perhaps it was "look at the white dude needing to get tampons for his woman,let's stand here talking gibberish and see how uncomfortable we can make him"...nah...probably not.I left the ailse and circled around for at least 10 minutes...they finally got the ones with wings and landing gear and left,I swooped in and grabbed the ones I needed and I was ready for the final level....check out.
Check out is where the "inability" to understand spoken or written english comes heavily into play. And underlines the cruel joke that is the "express lane" at the third world...when the other lines are backed up,they get into the 10 or less lane with a basket full and then pretend to not understand the concept of 10 or less...christ!Even I can count to 10 in spanish! Do they really think we're that stupid???Apparently,because then:
They whip out the Lone star card...Texas' answer to food stamps...and you notice: they are dressed nicer than you,they have nicer jewelery than you see in general...and if you manage to follow them out,you see they have a nicer car than you.Why can't I get one of these Lone star cards????
Because I report...uh...I mean make too much income to qualify...this is the point that I spontaneously combust and have to start the game over the next time I need to eat.
The united states is a country of cruel contradictions,for me and for the people that come here trying to better their lives and instead learn to resent and manipulate and get in my god damn way on the bread ailse.
Work was the usual...We are switching over to a new record keeping system (to launch jan.1...that should give you an idea of how well it's going) that is woefully inadequate in the area of purchase orders and inventory control...my primary area of responsibility.
The owner has a penchant for asking me questions about ordered parts when it's time to pay the invoices...if it goes beyond my 2 week limit to remembering things purchased and why,I could pull up the information in no time in our old system and address his concerns.
This is a luxury we no longer have.Purchase orders will now be received when the ap clerk pays the invoice...weeks after the part has been ordered and installed and billed to the customer...we have a hard time keeping up with it now, I can only imagine the problems ahead.
Despite this,I am trying to be proactive and positive and figure out a way to make this retarded cousin of what we had work. It looks like I'll have to develop a manual system to track parts...a step backwards.
But,you get what you pay for I guess,and the dispatching/scheduling module is fantastic.
After lunch,we were outside smoking and the AP clerk wondered out loud what that brown lump was in the field behind our shop...was it a dog?was it dead? The cleaning manager and I decided it was a deer,but drove over to investigate.Driving across the field in my rodeo made me feel like one of those adventurer guys on the discovery channel.When we got to the brown lump,it looked at us...exposing the face of the biggest pit bull I'd seen since the ones I shot in my back yard 9 years ago.He was huge! He got up,moved about 10 feet away and lay down again.
Since neither of us have a concealed carry permit (yet) ,we decided to go back to the shop and call animal control...about thirty minutes later,animal control shows up,the dog hadn't moved...we pointed him out and the AC guy went off to capture the dog...we got ring side seats to watch the drama unfold.
He approached the dog in his truck,and when he got too close,the dog got up,moved about 10 feet away and lay down again.AC guy got out of his truck and produced a giant butterfly net(!!???this is a 100 lb. PIT BULL,with a formidible nutsack-intact!) and then a catch pole/noose and approached the dog.
The chase was on! The dog took off...not in that "oh no! it's the dog catcher" panic,but more like a saunter like he was saying "ok,I'm leaving...don't fuck with me or I'll rip you and your silly net to shreds".
The dog won,he got away...no injuries to either party.The AC guy came back to shop and wondered if there was a bitch in heat somewhere. I remembered the look the dog gave us,and then I remembered the look my old dog Buddy used to get when the scent was in the air...then later I noticed the neighbors white german Sheppard sniffing at the sky wanfully. Then I felt bad,this poor dog was just trying to get laid and we cockblocked him.
Finally the end of the day...Ann and I decided on dinner and I headed to the grocery,where it was,unfortunately,not the end of the day...all the stress and frustration that was abscent from work was waiting for me there,at the grocery store we refer to as the "third world grocery".
We are item specific shoppers,and can usually get in the 10 items or less line...commonly referred to as the "express lane"...as far as this store is concerned,express lane is a cruel,cruel joke.
This store is like a live version of the game doom...each aisle is a level presenting it's own challenge and,instead of guns and lasers,your weapons are you cart and your facial expressions.Instead of orcs and demons,your enemys are the predominantly non english speaking customers whose weapons are thier carts,their litter of unruly children running around with no parental intervention and the obvious disdain they have for you,the 40 something white guy. (a clarification here,I do not consider myself a racist...I grew up in the south around people of color,knew their families,played with them and grew up to work in diverse workplaces with harmony and an understanding that we are all just folks...I have also shopped in other stores,in predominantly white areas of town and had the same experiences...except in those cases I was the 40 something white guy who should be shopping where I belong...with that said...)
They block the ailses,they park in the middle of the ailses 2 carts abreast and talk in a language I don't understand and give me those looks...the looks are the worst thing,I try to smile and stand there,blocked,my polite requests of "excuse me" go unheeded.Oh yeah...I forgot...they"don't understand english" how god damn convenient.So I turn around (if I can) and retreat,I will attempt this level later and now head to the Pharmacy of hell level,where on a good day,the wait is only 30 minutes,and none of the customers speak english,get way more medication than I get,whip out that medicaid/WIC/whatever card and pay 10 dollars,while I,even with insurance,pay 100...I made it through the pharmacy level,but it cost me.
Then,on to the tampon ailse level(yes...I buy tampons for Ann,it doesn't bother me,I've heard it's an issue for some guys and to this I say get over it you big baby)...today there were three twenty-something girls bogarting the tampon area... waving around various boxes of 'poons and I guess discussing the merits of each...I couldn't understand what they were saying,perhaps it was "look at the white dude needing to get tampons for his woman,let's stand here talking gibberish and see how uncomfortable we can make him"...nah...probably not.I left the ailse and circled around for at least 10 minutes...they finally got the ones with wings and landing gear and left,I swooped in and grabbed the ones I needed and I was ready for the final level....check out.
Check out is where the "inability" to understand spoken or written english comes heavily into play. And underlines the cruel joke that is the "express lane" at the third world...when the other lines are backed up,they get into the 10 or less lane with a basket full and then pretend to not understand the concept of 10 or less...christ!Even I can count to 10 in spanish! Do they really think we're that stupid???Apparently,because then:
They whip out the Lone star card...Texas' answer to food stamps...and you notice: they are dressed nicer than you,they have nicer jewelery than you see in general...and if you manage to follow them out,you see they have a nicer car than you.Why can't I get one of these Lone star cards????
Because I report...uh...I mean make too much income to qualify...this is the point that I spontaneously combust and have to start the game over the next time I need to eat.
The united states is a country of cruel contradictions,for me and for the people that come here trying to better their lives and instead learn to resent and manipulate and get in my god damn way on the bread ailse.
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