I have no idea how we got on the subject at work, since we're all working nonstop at my office from the time we arrive until we punch the old timeclock, but my co-worker and I were discussing our favorite superheroes from childhood. She asked me if I remember Shazam.
Do I remember Shazam? Have you said my name outloud lately?
You know where I'm going with this. In elementary school, when everyone's favorite sport was finding a way to make fun of someone else's name, Shazam and I were tight.
"Hey Shazam!"
"That's not my name!"
"Whatever you say, Shazam!"
"That's NOT my NAME!!!"
I had that same effective response when some kid named Jeff used to run down the hall, pretending to play a banjo and singing "Oh Susannah" as some sort of taunt. I'm not entirely sure why it was an insult, but it seemed to work.
"Oh Susannah!"
"My name is SUZANNE, not SuzannUH!"
"Oh, don't you cry for me!"
"Don't worry - I won't!"
Man, I was good.
Looking back on it, Daniel Hrna should have been an easy target for name-teasing all along, but he didn't actually become one until he did, in fact, suffer a hernia! In 5th grade! But none of us knew what a hernia was. So, we chanted "Daniel Hrna had a hernia!" but there wasn't much mirth in it, and Daniel didn't have much reaction.
As I got older and found out what a hernia was, I realized he was probably too dazed by the whole painful experience to respond. No, he didn't actually have the hernia right in front of us at school. He was absent for a while, and when he came back, he told us why he'd been out. He seemed fine to me, and I guess he probably was by then, but I should think that "a protrusion of an organ or tissue through an abnormal opening in the body" (definition via the Hernia Resource Center) would leave anyone without the will to engage when teased about it. Most likely, he just prayed silently that we'd all get one.
Ah, the sweet, innocent days of childhood, eh? Next time I'm complaining about some office hag with a bad attitude at work, I'll remember the good times back in elementary school when the attacks were personal and public.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
A-holes should have to wear a sign.
I've been teased a couple of times this season by the prospect of going to the Rose Bowl. I don't mean UT getting there - I mean ME getting there to see UT play. It seemed one of those fantasy activities that only my friends with lots of money get to do. I don't begrudge them the experience. In fact, I live vicariously through them when they go to such things. But little me, working my little job, livin' in my little house - what right would I have to dream of such things?
Then my parents dropped the bomb that they were considering going - me invited! We have a family friend who leaves near Pasadena, and we could stay with him, and he'd get us to the stadium and give us pointers on flights, so on and so forth. Why, all we had to do was get tickets!
No small feat, that - especially since there would be 3 of us, and we'd like to sit together. But I found some. They were pricey, but not completely out of line. We could do it! But we'd have to move fast! Fast, I say! Like the wind!! Just say to hit the "Buy" key, and they're ours! Just say it! SAY IT!!!!
But they didn't say it. It was a lot of money, and they...I don't know...had to think about it? Or...I don't know. But they didn't say it. Then there was talk that the friend in California might be able to swing tickets. Is that it? Is the plan to wait on him? Because that's a long-shot, people. And by the time he tells us it's a bust, it'll be too late for us to get any anywhere else unless we plan on taking out second mortgages. I feel my tension level rising. My anxiety - it's starting to eat at me. So, I ask myself what the realistic chances are that this will all work out. They're not good, Charlie Brown. Let's come back down to earth, Chuck.
So, I let it go. I tell the folks that should they decide they want me to buy some tics online, tell me and I'll find some. Give me a limit on price, and I'll make it happen if I can. But until they tell me to pull the trigger, I'm out. I'm not going to obsess about it. And secretly, I decide we're not going and relieve myself of the anxiety.
Then it happens. My mom - she emails me today and asks about some tickets she sees on eBay. Oh God! They're ready to do it! We're not going to wait on California Man! We're going to buy some! Well, I've done eBay for years. Let me take care of this! I answer her questions, then hop on eBay, and low and behold, there is a deal there - a great deal. A really great deal. A REALLY great deal! I call my Mom to see if it's okay for me to pull the trigger. THEY'RE NOT HOME!!! For Pete's sake, you're retired!! WHERE ARE YOU????
Well, I decide the deal is too good to pass up, and I'm not waiting. There's a price listed in the explanation section that's essentially a buy-it-now price, though there's no "Buy It Now" button. I email the seller, ask how we can do the transaction without the "Buy It Now" button. She says if I agree to buy the tics now, the price is what's listed, and just send her my eBay info an she'll invoice me via eBay. I do, and she sends another message that she's now sending the invoice me and to contact her when I get it. She has no payment info from me, you understand - just contact info, and 90 feedbacks (all good), so I'm not worried she's scamming. So, I hit refresh every two seconds in anticipation of the glorious invoice! Only...the auction has now exceeded the price we agreed to...and she never sends the invoice. I eventually email her to ask if I should assume she's backed out. Nothing. I no longer exist. You should roast in the fiery pit of hell.
You know, I get that you want to get all that you can on eBay when you sell. I get that. I've been a seller. But don't put a buy-it-now price on the listing, then refuse to honor it when the auction ends up being more successful. That's the risk you take when you list a price that someone can take up-front. EBay is always a risk. Sometimes you make a bundle. Sometimes somebody gets something for a penny and you get fleeced. It's the risk of the open market. But you should always honor your agreements. That's all. Just do what you agree to do (words to live by).
Then my parents dropped the bomb that they were considering going - me invited! We have a family friend who leaves near Pasadena, and we could stay with him, and he'd get us to the stadium and give us pointers on flights, so on and so forth. Why, all we had to do was get tickets!
No small feat, that - especially since there would be 3 of us, and we'd like to sit together. But I found some. They were pricey, but not completely out of line. We could do it! But we'd have to move fast! Fast, I say! Like the wind!! Just say to hit the "Buy" key, and they're ours! Just say it! SAY IT!!!!
But they didn't say it. It was a lot of money, and they...I don't know...had to think about it? Or...I don't know. But they didn't say it. Then there was talk that the friend in California might be able to swing tickets. Is that it? Is the plan to wait on him? Because that's a long-shot, people. And by the time he tells us it's a bust, it'll be too late for us to get any anywhere else unless we plan on taking out second mortgages. I feel my tension level rising. My anxiety - it's starting to eat at me. So, I ask myself what the realistic chances are that this will all work out. They're not good, Charlie Brown. Let's come back down to earth, Chuck.
So, I let it go. I tell the folks that should they decide they want me to buy some tics online, tell me and I'll find some. Give me a limit on price, and I'll make it happen if I can. But until they tell me to pull the trigger, I'm out. I'm not going to obsess about it. And secretly, I decide we're not going and relieve myself of the anxiety.
Then it happens. My mom - she emails me today and asks about some tickets she sees on eBay. Oh God! They're ready to do it! We're not going to wait on California Man! We're going to buy some! Well, I've done eBay for years. Let me take care of this! I answer her questions, then hop on eBay, and low and behold, there is a deal there - a great deal. A really great deal. A REALLY great deal! I call my Mom to see if it's okay for me to pull the trigger. THEY'RE NOT HOME!!! For Pete's sake, you're retired!! WHERE ARE YOU????
Well, I decide the deal is too good to pass up, and I'm not waiting. There's a price listed in the explanation section that's essentially a buy-it-now price, though there's no "Buy It Now" button. I email the seller, ask how we can do the transaction without the "Buy It Now" button. She says if I agree to buy the tics now, the price is what's listed, and just send her my eBay info an she'll invoice me via eBay. I do, and she sends another message that she's now sending the invoice me and to contact her when I get it. She has no payment info from me, you understand - just contact info, and 90 feedbacks (all good), so I'm not worried she's scamming. So, I hit refresh every two seconds in anticipation of the glorious invoice! Only...the auction has now exceeded the price we agreed to...and she never sends the invoice. I eventually email her to ask if I should assume she's backed out. Nothing. I no longer exist. You should roast in the fiery pit of hell.
You know, I get that you want to get all that you can on eBay when you sell. I get that. I've been a seller. But don't put a buy-it-now price on the listing, then refuse to honor it when the auction ends up being more successful. That's the risk you take when you list a price that someone can take up-front. EBay is always a risk. Sometimes you make a bundle. Sometimes somebody gets something for a penny and you get fleeced. It's the risk of the open market. But you should always honor your agreements. That's all. Just do what you agree to do (words to live by).
Monday, November 28, 2005
Do you think Denise Austin eats pie?
Well, I'm back in the saddle and five pounds heavier! But it was worth it. I'll eat like a normal human being this week and see if I can make a dent in the pie, cobbler, mac and cheese, ambrosia, sweet rolls, etc., I gorged on. Possibly some Denise Austin could be in order.
We had Thanksgiving at my brother's house this year, and he has this great set of living room furniture - some wonderful designer managed to cram 5 recliners into 1 chair, 1 couch and 1 loveseat. It was almost impossible to not have a recliner, what with being able to make the kids move if they happened to be in prime seating real estate. I tell you that living room is recliner heaven! Now, you might be thinking recliners are for old men in jumpsuits (by the by, there's a sale on), but that's just not true. There ain't nuthin better than stuffing yourself silly with rich food, climbing into a cushy expanse of microfiber (or leather if you prefer), snapping up that foot rest, then easin' on back into a barely upright position. A large television with the murmur of a football game you're only half watching, and my friend, that's a nap right there.
Speaking of football, the UT game wasn't a thrashing and I didn't enjoy every minute of it, but I'm glad for the outcome. Vince Young did not have a Vince Young-like day, and you would know that the aggies had their best game of the year, so that combination made the game more of a competition than anyone expected. We still came out on top, but it was uglier than I would've liked. It was uglier than Vince Young would've liked, too, because I saw him a couple of interviews later in the day, and he still looked pretty pissed about his performance. I believe he can kiss that Heisman goodbye for this year. But I think that may be for the best. He's said he'll be back next year, so that means we can all stop talking about the Heisman and Vince's plans and get focused on the team and what they need to do. Colorado had better be prepared because I'm guessing you won't see another repeat of Friday in either of the two games left this season. I believe Texas had put itself on cruise control, and they got their wake-up call.
Well, folks, with that another Thanksgiving is under our belts, and that means it's now officially Christmas season! Onward ho!
We had Thanksgiving at my brother's house this year, and he has this great set of living room furniture - some wonderful designer managed to cram 5 recliners into 1 chair, 1 couch and 1 loveseat. It was almost impossible to not have a recliner, what with being able to make the kids move if they happened to be in prime seating real estate. I tell you that living room is recliner heaven! Now, you might be thinking recliners are for old men in jumpsuits (by the by, there's a sale on), but that's just not true. There ain't nuthin better than stuffing yourself silly with rich food, climbing into a cushy expanse of microfiber (or leather if you prefer), snapping up that foot rest, then easin' on back into a barely upright position. A large television with the murmur of a football game you're only half watching, and my friend, that's a nap right there.
Speaking of football, the UT game wasn't a thrashing and I didn't enjoy every minute of it, but I'm glad for the outcome. Vince Young did not have a Vince Young-like day, and you would know that the aggies had their best game of the year, so that combination made the game more of a competition than anyone expected. We still came out on top, but it was uglier than I would've liked. It was uglier than Vince Young would've liked, too, because I saw him a couple of interviews later in the day, and he still looked pretty pissed about his performance. I believe he can kiss that Heisman goodbye for this year. But I think that may be for the best. He's said he'll be back next year, so that means we can all stop talking about the Heisman and Vince's plans and get focused on the team and what they need to do. Colorado had better be prepared because I'm guessing you won't see another repeat of Friday in either of the two games left this season. I believe Texas had put itself on cruise control, and they got their wake-up call.
Well, folks, with that another Thanksgiving is under our belts, and that means it's now officially Christmas season! Onward ho!
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
I'm ready for pie.
Well, I'm off today to visit the fam in Houston for Thanksgiving, so I won't be posting for several days. I'll try to come back loaded with fascinating and entertaining tales of family fun.
Oh, and I hope gloating will be in order. It is my hope that Friday will thus forth be known as The Day of Thrashing, when the Longhorns suspended any notion of mercy while beating the aggies into the ground. Of course, the aggies are pretty much already beaten into the ground, so it's not quite as much fun as playing an opponent with an actual prayer of giving you a contest. But it's a&m, so that means that if we do, in fact, impart a thrashing, I hope it will be epic, and I'll enjoy every second of it. That is my way, people. You'll just have to reconcile that with your equally compelling notions of my integrity and love of animals.
Have a really great, safe Thanksgiving! God Bless America and each and every one of us!
Oh, and I hope gloating will be in order. It is my hope that Friday will thus forth be known as The Day of Thrashing, when the Longhorns suspended any notion of mercy while beating the aggies into the ground. Of course, the aggies are pretty much already beaten into the ground, so it's not quite as much fun as playing an opponent with an actual prayer of giving you a contest. But it's a&m, so that means that if we do, in fact, impart a thrashing, I hope it will be epic, and I'll enjoy every second of it. That is my way, people. You'll just have to reconcile that with your equally compelling notions of my integrity and love of animals.
Have a really great, safe Thanksgiving! God Bless America and each and every one of us!
Monday, November 21, 2005
Let the feasting begin...almost
Well, the actual Thanksgiving holiday isn't until Thursday, but since people trying to use their vacation time strategically often take off Monday through Wednesday ("For the price of just 3 vacation days - count 'em, folks, I said 3 vacation days - you can have an ENTIRE WEEK away from your office! Don't thank me now - a number you can call for donations will soon appear at the bottom of your screen!"), I consider the holiday in the context of the entire week. This a Holiday Week, so we can talk all things turkey the whole week!
I'm not taking any extra time off this year, but I am using the early days of my holiday week to prepare for the later days of this week. You see, I'm eating light the next 3 days - watching my intake, counting calories, checking my waistband. I do this in anticipation of unrelenting gluttony on Thursday and Friday. What I save now, I can gorge later. And I can't wait!
While I never forget that Thanksgiving is about thanking God for the blessings of this country - our natural resources, our freedom, our opportunity - I also see it as a time to revel with abandon in the things that make this country even GREATER than the Pilgrims could've imagined! It's a time for unregulated intake of excess food and FOOTBALL!!!!! (Pass me a tissue...I need a moment.)
I do not, however, want to undo all the good I've done in recent months in fitting back into clothes that I had once considered abandoning. ("Screw it. I'll just be a size larger. ... Aw, who am I kidding? I can't afford a new wardrobe. Dammit - give me some of that Diet Coke and a rice cake.") Therefore, I must give myself a cushion. I'm not saying I'll starve myself the next 3 days. That would be unhealthy. I will, however, keep a sharp eye - make sure I'm not getting fast and loose with my calories. Be vigilant. Then, on Thursday...the gloves are off! Bring it ON!!!
For anyone interested, the best tool I've found for helping me stay on top of my intake is FitDay.com. I love that site. You can put in all the food you eat and find out how many calories you're taking in, as well as input all your activity to see how many of those calories you're burning. There are nutritional reports and a journal, too. I tried to do the intake and activities both when I first found FitDay, but I have a life, people. I can't spend all day on that damn site. I gave up. But after a few weeks, I went back and JUST did the calories, and I've stuck with it and am right where I want to be weight-wise.
I did some research on the Web for what my daily goal should be regarding calories, and I've stayed within that most days. I don't count calories on the weekend - give myself a break on those two days. And the occasional weekday overload happens. But mostly I stick to it, and I've found that over time, you develop a sense of when you're eating the right amount and when you're not. I learned that portion control was killing me, too. Some stuff I was eating was just fine, but I was eating too much of it. I've always been thin, and it's only been in my 30s I've had to start working at it. I now have to work at it like everyone else, though!
So, I'll be giving FitDay a workout in the next 3 days, then I'm off the charts, baby. Ham (I'm not a huge turkey fan), dressing with gravy, cranberry sauce, yeasty rolls, yams with marshmallows, mac-n-cheese (the kind you bake in the oven), pumpkin pie with Cool Whip...may the feasting be all I envision!
I'm not taking any extra time off this year, but I am using the early days of my holiday week to prepare for the later days of this week. You see, I'm eating light the next 3 days - watching my intake, counting calories, checking my waistband. I do this in anticipation of unrelenting gluttony on Thursday and Friday. What I save now, I can gorge later. And I can't wait!
While I never forget that Thanksgiving is about thanking God for the blessings of this country - our natural resources, our freedom, our opportunity - I also see it as a time to revel with abandon in the things that make this country even GREATER than the Pilgrims could've imagined! It's a time for unregulated intake of excess food and FOOTBALL!!!!! (Pass me a tissue...I need a moment.)
I do not, however, want to undo all the good I've done in recent months in fitting back into clothes that I had once considered abandoning. ("Screw it. I'll just be a size larger. ... Aw, who am I kidding? I can't afford a new wardrobe. Dammit - give me some of that Diet Coke and a rice cake.") Therefore, I must give myself a cushion. I'm not saying I'll starve myself the next 3 days. That would be unhealthy. I will, however, keep a sharp eye - make sure I'm not getting fast and loose with my calories. Be vigilant. Then, on Thursday...the gloves are off! Bring it ON!!!
For anyone interested, the best tool I've found for helping me stay on top of my intake is FitDay.com. I love that site. You can put in all the food you eat and find out how many calories you're taking in, as well as input all your activity to see how many of those calories you're burning. There are nutritional reports and a journal, too. I tried to do the intake and activities both when I first found FitDay, but I have a life, people. I can't spend all day on that damn site. I gave up. But after a few weeks, I went back and JUST did the calories, and I've stuck with it and am right where I want to be weight-wise.
I did some research on the Web for what my daily goal should be regarding calories, and I've stayed within that most days. I don't count calories on the weekend - give myself a break on those two days. And the occasional weekday overload happens. But mostly I stick to it, and I've found that over time, you develop a sense of when you're eating the right amount and when you're not. I learned that portion control was killing me, too. Some stuff I was eating was just fine, but I was eating too much of it. I've always been thin, and it's only been in my 30s I've had to start working at it. I now have to work at it like everyone else, though!
So, I'll be giving FitDay a workout in the next 3 days, then I'm off the charts, baby. Ham (I'm not a huge turkey fan), dressing with gravy, cranberry sauce, yeasty rolls, yams with marshmallows, mac-n-cheese (the kind you bake in the oven), pumpkin pie with Cool Whip...may the feasting be all I envision!
Friday, November 18, 2005
He should've sampled Cher.
I've eaten way too much today, and the sky is cloudy, and those two conditions are conspiring to make me sleepy and lethargic. So rather than write much of an entry today, I'm going to direct you to a site I saw on Jim Lileks' blog last week. It's a creepy place, filled with strange sounds that may delight you or make you cry. And not good crying - confused crying like you want the bad man to stop before Christopher Walken walks in. Don't be fooled by the Care Bear-ish front page. Go ahead. Click on the link below, then click the "The Broken Record" link and listen to the mp3 tracks. I dare you.
http://twink.net
http://twink.net
Thursday, November 17, 2005
All that glitters...
Anyone ever heard of Gary Glitter? Yeah, me neither. But apparently, he's some washed up K.C.-and-the-Sunshine-Band wannabe who has been chased out of countries all over the world for trying to make it with youts - Britain, Cambodia, now Vietnam. They're looking for him to "clarify" his "relationship" with a 15-year-old girl. I mentioned he's 61, right?
I know what you're thinking. It's not possible that this man:
is a perv. I mean, for pity's sake could something associated with glitter be bad?
Hmmmm. Maybe there were signs that Mr. Glitter wasn't looking to live by our staid, worn-out rules of conduct. Could there have been ANY way we could've known Gary would stray from the dignified, straight-laced life that society would have him live? Was there a sign of any kind that Double G was looking for a life outside the lines?
I just don't know.
I know what you're thinking. It's not possible that this man:
is a perv. I mean, for pity's sake could something associated with glitter be bad?
Hmmmm. Maybe there were signs that Mr. Glitter wasn't looking to live by our staid, worn-out rules of conduct. Could there have been ANY way we could've known Gary would stray from the dignified, straight-laced life that society would have him live? Was there a sign of any kind that Double G was looking for a life outside the lines?
I just don't know.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
I'm a slow adopter.
I've decided to ask for a digital camera for Christmas, but like asking a friend to set you up on a blind date, it's important to be specific about what you want. Never send your mom (who also doesn't have a digital camera) wandering through Best Buy to buy you electronics with nothing more than a category to guide her. Give her a bar code for what you want if possible. And seeing as I've never had a digital camera (and my blind dates have rarely gone well), I think it's wise to tap into the vast knowledge of you people out there who actually HAVE digital cameras.
What advice can you give me? What do you like about your digital cameras and what do you hate? What would you like to have next time, and what features did you pay for but you never use? Which brands/models would you recommend and which ones should I spit on?
So far, I've been told to go for a 5 megapixel, and to avoid models that take alkaline batteries - they eat up batteries like no tomorrow and are always going out on you. I was told to go for a lithium-ion battery one, and to get one that comes with accessories to recharge it - like a dock.
I should mention that I'm not really planning on printing out a lot of my pictures. For the pics I think I'll want for posterity, I'll stick with my film 35 mm. I want this one for casual outings where the pics I take will most be emailed or posted online. Is that crazy? Does everyone say that when they first get a digital, and soon they're using it for everything???
What advice can you give me? What do you like about your digital cameras and what do you hate? What would you like to have next time, and what features did you pay for but you never use? Which brands/models would you recommend and which ones should I spit on?
So far, I've been told to go for a 5 megapixel, and to avoid models that take alkaline batteries - they eat up batteries like no tomorrow and are always going out on you. I was told to go for a lithium-ion battery one, and to get one that comes with accessories to recharge it - like a dock.
I should mention that I'm not really planning on printing out a lot of my pictures. For the pics I think I'll want for posterity, I'll stick with my film 35 mm. I want this one for casual outings where the pics I take will most be emailed or posted online. Is that crazy? Does everyone say that when they first get a digital, and soon they're using it for everything???
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Chili and bruises
Whoo-boy, had a good lunch today. A friend and I went to Hickory Street Bar and Grille, one of my favorite restaurants here in River City. I'd link you to it, but they don't have a Web site. The best I can do is this link to a review of it.
Part of it was good company (shout out to ya, Miss Jules), and part of it was the food. It's always good food, but today we had the special pleasure of enjoying some chili with our meal. You see, a cool front finally blew in, and it was chili weather! Ya-hoooo! We're lookin' at 60s for the rest of today and on through the weekend! I'm giddy. I love shorts as much as the next Texan, but for pity's sake it's November. If I can't be in a sweater, I'd at least like to be in jeans.
Jeans are a particular draw at the moment, because just as my hiney is healing up from the weekend's oompah festivities, I've managed to bang up my legs in two different places in the last 24 hours. I ran into my living room coffee table in the dark to bruise up my shin nicely last night, and this morning I discovered a large bruise with a cut of some kind on the calf of my other leg. I've got no clue how that one happened. These are the things that happen as you get older - phantom bruises that take forever to heal. You 20-somethings laugh it up. Your time is coming.
It's possible the calf bruise was incurred during a search for my kitty last night. I really have no one to blame but myself in these matters. You see, I know she's going to go over the wall (the fence actually) if I let her outside, yet I let her out. Partly, I don't want to hear her incessent meowing if I don't let her out, but partly it's because she likes to chase the bugs, and it's cute, and if she attacks the bugs, she may spend less time attacking me. So, I let her out and tell myself I'll watch her and make sure she doesn't escape. But she always does - sometimes right in front of me. I see her perched on top of the fence, and I can't get to her fast enough. It's like she waits for me to see her, too. She used to wait until I went inside to escape, but she's lost all respect for me somewhere along the way and now she does it 10 feet in front of me.
It was annoying when she used to go over the back fence. The only thing behind my house is a drainage easement and a ranch. So, that means walking all the way around and trudging down into the brush to get her...or rather to chase her back over since just as I get to her, she jumps back over the fence. But sometimes she goes over the side fences into the neighbors' yards. This is even less cool. One neighbor used to have rabbits, and I lived in fear of her killing one. I think the rabbits ran away, though, tunneling under the neighbor's fence and disappearing into the ranch. I think the neighbors may have filled in the tunnel. They weren't too sad when the rabbits were gone. I'm not sure what they expected from the rabbits as pets, but the rabbits failed them, and I sensed that their escape was a relief. They have a dog, though, and when my cat goes into their yard, I think they like the excitement.
The other neighbor is a different story, though. I don't know those people all that well. They seemed to fear me after I threatened to shoot their pit bull if it dug under my fence (as it was inches from doing) and hurt me or my cat. The pit bull disappeared soon afterward, and the neighbors and I have had little conversation since. They've got their house up for sale now. I think it's a coincidence.
Anyway, I probably cut my leg climbing on various items to see which fence The Beast had scaled. Oh, and did I mention her front paws are declawed? That's right. She has no front claws and she can climb a 6-foot privacy fence. She's a maniac. My first few months with her are a post for another time. Right now, though, I need a nap. Chili good.
Part of it was good company (shout out to ya, Miss Jules), and part of it was the food. It's always good food, but today we had the special pleasure of enjoying some chili with our meal. You see, a cool front finally blew in, and it was chili weather! Ya-hoooo! We're lookin' at 60s for the rest of today and on through the weekend! I'm giddy. I love shorts as much as the next Texan, but for pity's sake it's November. If I can't be in a sweater, I'd at least like to be in jeans.
Jeans are a particular draw at the moment, because just as my hiney is healing up from the weekend's oompah festivities, I've managed to bang up my legs in two different places in the last 24 hours. I ran into my living room coffee table in the dark to bruise up my shin nicely last night, and this morning I discovered a large bruise with a cut of some kind on the calf of my other leg. I've got no clue how that one happened. These are the things that happen as you get older - phantom bruises that take forever to heal. You 20-somethings laugh it up. Your time is coming.
It's possible the calf bruise was incurred during a search for my kitty last night. I really have no one to blame but myself in these matters. You see, I know she's going to go over the wall (the fence actually) if I let her outside, yet I let her out. Partly, I don't want to hear her incessent meowing if I don't let her out, but partly it's because she likes to chase the bugs, and it's cute, and if she attacks the bugs, she may spend less time attacking me. So, I let her out and tell myself I'll watch her and make sure she doesn't escape. But she always does - sometimes right in front of me. I see her perched on top of the fence, and I can't get to her fast enough. It's like she waits for me to see her, too. She used to wait until I went inside to escape, but she's lost all respect for me somewhere along the way and now she does it 10 feet in front of me.
It was annoying when she used to go over the back fence. The only thing behind my house is a drainage easement and a ranch. So, that means walking all the way around and trudging down into the brush to get her...or rather to chase her back over since just as I get to her, she jumps back over the fence. But sometimes she goes over the side fences into the neighbors' yards. This is even less cool. One neighbor used to have rabbits, and I lived in fear of her killing one. I think the rabbits ran away, though, tunneling under the neighbor's fence and disappearing into the ranch. I think the neighbors may have filled in the tunnel. They weren't too sad when the rabbits were gone. I'm not sure what they expected from the rabbits as pets, but the rabbits failed them, and I sensed that their escape was a relief. They have a dog, though, and when my cat goes into their yard, I think they like the excitement.
The other neighbor is a different story, though. I don't know those people all that well. They seemed to fear me after I threatened to shoot their pit bull if it dug under my fence (as it was inches from doing) and hurt me or my cat. The pit bull disappeared soon afterward, and the neighbors and I have had little conversation since. They've got their house up for sale now. I think it's a coincidence.
Anyway, I probably cut my leg climbing on various items to see which fence The Beast had scaled. Oh, and did I mention her front paws are declawed? That's right. She has no front claws and she can climb a 6-foot privacy fence. She's a maniac. My first few months with her are a post for another time. Right now, though, I need a nap. Chili good.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Ticky-tocky, ticky-tocky, oy! oy! oy!
I'm a few days behind on posts - it was a busy 3-day weekend for me (I had Friday off work for Veterans Day), and I didn't make it online. When I've developed a Dave Barry-like following, I'll lose sleep over such lapses!
The big day for me this weekend was Saturday. Normally, a UT football game or a visit to a festival would each be an entire day's event, but Saturday, I did the unprecedented and went to the UT game in the afternoon, then followed up with an evening at Wurstfest. It was a long and way-fun day!
The UT game bordered on the ridiculous. It was 52-0 at halftime. Final was 66-14 (we took Vince Young out early in the 3rd quarter). Please note that going into that game, Kansas had the nation's #1 rushing defense and was #1 in the Big 12 in total defense. Das right - step back: the Horns are in the House. We clinched the Big 12 South with that victory, but we've got to stay focused for at least one more game this month. The Aggies would love to spoil our season, and we need to take them to the woodshed. I shall think about all things Rose-y after that! I don't believe in countin' yo chickens.
Due to the lack of suspense or emotional involvement in the game (I don't even know what a Jayhawk is), the real fun came at Wurstfest!
Wow, what a good time I had! When we got there, my friends had already been there for a couple of hours - so several pitchers had expired and my friends were unusually pumped about the ride on the ferris wheel they were lined up for. I'm going to go out on a limb and say the two facts are related.
We didn't manage to hit any of the rides, and we didn't come prepared with goofy hats, as many attendees did, but we did our best to jump into the swing of things quickly. We stood in line to get beer tickets, then stood in line to get food, then stood in line to get beer (do you sense a theme?), then finally made it to The Big Tent where the bands were playing and my friends had secured bench space (they'd long since finished with the ferris wheel by the time we got our food). The tent had a stage, lighting and benches set up in front of the stage and tables on the sides. It wasn't air conditioned, so the mass of humanity coupled with the daytime temps in the 80s, the lights, and the booze made the tent really hot. I found, though, that once you accept that you're going to be a sweaty mess and you stop saying out loud that it's hot, you forget about it.
The bands were a hoot. Two bands alternated: Die Fröhliche Dorfmusik and Die Schlauberger. The first band was actually from Germany. They were a big band with lederhosen outfits and a leader who spoke in this great accented English that just BEGGED you to do it, too. Oh yah??? Most of their songs were in German, so the only one of us who knew what they were singing was my friend Julia's boyfriend, David, who speaks German (props to you Dave), but it didn't matter. Seems you can sway and raise a beer stein (or plastic cup in this case) to a strong beat, regardless of language barrier.
The second band was (get this) from New York! Oompah from NY. Will the world ever make sense? They bill themselves as "The Alternative to Oompah" and what a trip they were! They were oompah, but with electric guitars and attitude. I didn't believe it either until I saw them, but they mixed in some non-oompah favs, such as Brown-eyed girl, some salsa, and some Beach Boys, so you never knew what song was coming next, and they were a blast. And the crowd loved it. I swear to God at one point, there were about 10 good-looking women up on stage, like these guys were GreenDay. Amazing what beer can do.
Both bands did this sort of "cheer" - I don't know if this is a Wurstfest thing or what, but everyone seemed to know what to do. They'd yell, "Ticky-tocky, ticky-tocky" and everyone would yell "Oy! Oy! Oy!" and either punch their fists or lift their glasses into the air on the oy's. They'd do it twice, and the German band would end it by saying, "Life is good!" After the first time it happened, you know I was I oy'ing like I'd been doing it all my life. When in Rome, people. The night also featured conga lines and Ninja moves - the last one was just me and my friends, though.
I shouldn't suggest it was all fun and games, though. There were injuries. No, not from the Ninja moves. It was the benches. They were very hard, and the swaying often took place from a seated position. My butt bones (those of you who have ever gone horseback riding know the ones I'm talking about) are, in fact, compromised. Sitting has been a calculated event the last two days. But hey man, you want to play, you gotta pay. Can't be a wuss.
The big day for me this weekend was Saturday. Normally, a UT football game or a visit to a festival would each be an entire day's event, but Saturday, I did the unprecedented and went to the UT game in the afternoon, then followed up with an evening at Wurstfest. It was a long and way-fun day!
The UT game bordered on the ridiculous. It was 52-0 at halftime. Final was 66-14 (we took Vince Young out early in the 3rd quarter). Please note that going into that game, Kansas had the nation's #1 rushing defense and was #1 in the Big 12 in total defense. Das right - step back: the Horns are in the House. We clinched the Big 12 South with that victory, but we've got to stay focused for at least one more game this month. The Aggies would love to spoil our season, and we need to take them to the woodshed. I shall think about all things Rose-y after that! I don't believe in countin' yo chickens.
Due to the lack of suspense or emotional involvement in the game (I don't even know what a Jayhawk is), the real fun came at Wurstfest!
Wow, what a good time I had! When we got there, my friends had already been there for a couple of hours - so several pitchers had expired and my friends were unusually pumped about the ride on the ferris wheel they were lined up for. I'm going to go out on a limb and say the two facts are related.
We didn't manage to hit any of the rides, and we didn't come prepared with goofy hats, as many attendees did, but we did our best to jump into the swing of things quickly. We stood in line to get beer tickets, then stood in line to get food, then stood in line to get beer (do you sense a theme?), then finally made it to The Big Tent where the bands were playing and my friends had secured bench space (they'd long since finished with the ferris wheel by the time we got our food). The tent had a stage, lighting and benches set up in front of the stage and tables on the sides. It wasn't air conditioned, so the mass of humanity coupled with the daytime temps in the 80s, the lights, and the booze made the tent really hot. I found, though, that once you accept that you're going to be a sweaty mess and you stop saying out loud that it's hot, you forget about it.
The bands were a hoot. Two bands alternated: Die Fröhliche Dorfmusik and Die Schlauberger. The first band was actually from Germany. They were a big band with lederhosen outfits and a leader who spoke in this great accented English that just BEGGED you to do it, too. Oh yah??? Most of their songs were in German, so the only one of us who knew what they were singing was my friend Julia's boyfriend, David, who speaks German (props to you Dave), but it didn't matter. Seems you can sway and raise a beer stein (or plastic cup in this case) to a strong beat, regardless of language barrier.
The second band was (get this) from New York! Oompah from NY. Will the world ever make sense? They bill themselves as "The Alternative to Oompah" and what a trip they were! They were oompah, but with electric guitars and attitude. I didn't believe it either until I saw them, but they mixed in some non-oompah favs, such as Brown-eyed girl, some salsa, and some Beach Boys, so you never knew what song was coming next, and they were a blast. And the crowd loved it. I swear to God at one point, there were about 10 good-looking women up on stage, like these guys were GreenDay. Amazing what beer can do.
Both bands did this sort of "cheer" - I don't know if this is a Wurstfest thing or what, but everyone seemed to know what to do. They'd yell, "Ticky-tocky, ticky-tocky" and everyone would yell "Oy! Oy! Oy!" and either punch their fists or lift their glasses into the air on the oy's. They'd do it twice, and the German band would end it by saying, "Life is good!" After the first time it happened, you know I was I oy'ing like I'd been doing it all my life. When in Rome, people. The night also featured conga lines and Ninja moves - the last one was just me and my friends, though.
I shouldn't suggest it was all fun and games, though. There were injuries. No, not from the Ninja moves. It was the benches. They were very hard, and the swaying often took place from a seated position. My butt bones (those of you who have ever gone horseback riding know the ones I'm talking about) are, in fact, compromised. Sitting has been a calculated event the last two days. But hey man, you want to play, you gotta pay. Can't be a wuss.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Cinnastix with lots of icing
It's Turkey Day! If you work at my office, that is - and if you pony up $8 for a catered Thanksgiving meal with people you see all day everyday, a country and western singer who is clearly rocketing up the charts, and kitschy door prizes you can't give away.
You think I'm kidding. I "won" one of these door prizes last year. It was some sort of autumn-themed Raggedy Ann doll plant cozy thing. Apparently you're supposed to put the doll on a shelf where its legs hang off the side, and in the doll's lap was a receptacle where you'd put a plant - or maybe candy, but who's going to eat candy out of a doll's lap? It was hideous. I realize that sounds ungrateful - somebody designed that thing and made it, and I won it, and I should probably be respectful of the artistic effort that went into it and appreciative of the generous thought of the people who gave it to me. But listen carefully - it was a doll plant cozy. Martha Stewart would've thrown up. And I literally could not give it away! I tried. I told people, "It's yours! A gift!" And they would thank me politely, then "forget" and leave it behind when they left. My mom finally had to dispose of it in a white elephant exchange. I'm guessing the guy who got stuck with it in that exchange will gleefully be sticking someone else with it this year.
So you can imagine my excitement at the prospect of walking away with more booty this year. I personally wish that since we're all going to be having this exact same meal in two weeks with our families, the office versions would feature pizza and Cinnastix instead of turkey and dressing. And let's make it a real celebration - let's have some beer or a margarita machine. And for door prizes, give us gift certificates for gas - Texaco or Chevron or something. Now all THAT I'd be grateful for!
You think I'm kidding. I "won" one of these door prizes last year. It was some sort of autumn-themed Raggedy Ann doll plant cozy thing. Apparently you're supposed to put the doll on a shelf where its legs hang off the side, and in the doll's lap was a receptacle where you'd put a plant - or maybe candy, but who's going to eat candy out of a doll's lap? It was hideous. I realize that sounds ungrateful - somebody designed that thing and made it, and I won it, and I should probably be respectful of the artistic effort that went into it and appreciative of the generous thought of the people who gave it to me. But listen carefully - it was a doll plant cozy. Martha Stewart would've thrown up. And I literally could not give it away! I tried. I told people, "It's yours! A gift!" And they would thank me politely, then "forget" and leave it behind when they left. My mom finally had to dispose of it in a white elephant exchange. I'm guessing the guy who got stuck with it in that exchange will gleefully be sticking someone else with it this year.
So you can imagine my excitement at the prospect of walking away with more booty this year. I personally wish that since we're all going to be having this exact same meal in two weeks with our families, the office versions would feature pizza and Cinnastix instead of turkey and dressing. And let's make it a real celebration - let's have some beer or a margarita machine. And for door prizes, give us gift certificates for gas - Texaco or Chevron or something. Now all THAT I'd be grateful for!
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Where does the tree skirt go?
It's a beautiful day here in the neighborhood - in fact, it's unseasonably beautiful. It'll be in the 80s (as in a high of almost 90) today here in Austin, Texas, and that's just craaaaazy! It is November, right? Thanksgiving is only two weeks away, and I'm in a sleeveless shirt today (a zippy little number with a leopard print and these little fringe things all over to make it look furry. My co-worker said it's "super cute" and she's a fashionista - she knows.). I can't even begin to think about Christmas (only 6 weeks away!) until I'm at least in a jacket, and I've done no Christmas shopping at all. I'm not really complaining, because a beautiful day is beautiful no matter what month it comes. I'm just having a hard time getting into the holiday spirit when it feels like May.
But fear not! Retailers have indicated their wish to get me in the spirit whether it feels natural or not. In fact, some are going to make sure I don't confuse the biggest shopping season of the year with anything natural OR spiritual: http://www.hammacher.com/publish/72376.asp. Sure, you'd look like a half-wit to anyone who entered your home, but there'd be so much more room for presents!!! And isn't that really what Christmas is all about? (sniff!)
But fear not! Retailers have indicated their wish to get me in the spirit whether it feels natural or not. In fact, some are going to make sure I don't confuse the biggest shopping season of the year with anything natural OR spiritual: http://www.hammacher.com/publish/72376.asp. Sure, you'd look like a half-wit to anyone who entered your home, but there'd be so much more room for presents!!! And isn't that really what Christmas is all about? (sniff!)
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Now you're just toying with me.
I picked up the silver bullet last night. I hopped in the driver's seat, happy to be back in my own saddle, and headed toward I-35 for 30-mile trek home. Oops - low on gas. I'll just stop in here at this Diamond Shamrock and put in $5 worth of gas - don't want to fill up because the price isn't that good, but $5 will get me home and to work tomorrow and then I can fill up someplace more reasonable. I don't want to put my heels back on, though - I wore them all day, and now I hate them. But that's okay, because I live in 2005, and I can Pay At The Pump, which means I can just hop out in my bare feet and run around to the pump - no one will see me.
Slip my credit card in the pump, watch the gauge until it gets to $5, try to do the Jerry Seinfeld/AMEX thing and stop right on $5 - don't make it. $5.06. "Cashier has receipt." What? What do you mean the cashier has the receipt? I'm Paying At The Pump. Did no one explain to you people the concept of Paying At The Pump? That means I don't have to go into the store - my entire transaction is supposed to take place right here At The Pump. If I wanted to go into the store and interface with the cashier (who is inexplicably peering at me through the doors of the store as if I'm armed), I would have put my shoes on and done so. Well, I'm not doing it. I'm not putting my shoes on, and I'm not walking over there - the fearful cashier can just save that receipt until it yellows, because I Paid At The Pump, and I'm not going in!! I'll write my own receipt. I've got paper in the car. "11/7, $5, Diamond Shamrock." Ha!
Key in ignition, engine turns over, gas gauge reads...the same. It's as if I've added no gas to the tank whatsoever. And yet...I have this receipt that I just wrote for myself. Turn off the engine. Re-start. Nothing - I'm still sitting at my pre-Pay At The Pump levels. Cell phone.
"Dad, what does it mean when I put $5 of gas in the tank, and the gauge shows nothing?" (Me: expecting he'll say my gauge is broken, which would mean another trip to the repair shop, and NOT wanting to hear that.)
"You only put $5 in?"
'Yeah, and it's not registering."
"$5 is hardly anything."
"I know, but I've put $5 in it hundreds of times, and it always shows."
"You probably didn't put in enough."
"You're not listening - it always shows up. This time, it's like nothing happened."
"$5 isn't much - it's probably not enough."
"If you're going to keep repeating yourself about the $5, I'm going to have an aneurysm. In fact, I think I'm having one now. I can't talk to you anymore."
Heels on. Storm into store. Fearful cashier runs behind counter. I see that he's a hefty youth, with a hearing aid and his nails painted with chipping black polish. You are sad, little monkey, aren't you, son? He can't help me - he hands me the receipt, though. The manager is mopping the bathroom - good to know they do that. But she can't help me either. It's a mystery. I make a show of storming out and though I didn't intentionally squeel my tires as I left, I didn't feel bad about it either. I drive with angry purpose to the Shell station on the other side of the freeway - why, they're 10 cents cheaper! But I still only put in $6 in case there's some kind of hole in my tank or something. Low and behold, ALL of the gas registers this time. It's the car - this time I heard outright snickering.
So, I peel out of the Shell station, shifting angrily through the gears to punish the stupid Cougar. But in a strange mirroring of my relationships with men, I'm soon speeding along I-35 in 5th gear, much too fast, and enjoying my car again - the cruel mind games forgotten. You're a fun car, aren't you? Hey, let's turn up the radio real loud.
Slip my credit card in the pump, watch the gauge until it gets to $5, try to do the Jerry Seinfeld/AMEX thing and stop right on $5 - don't make it. $5.06. "Cashier has receipt." What? What do you mean the cashier has the receipt? I'm Paying At The Pump. Did no one explain to you people the concept of Paying At The Pump? That means I don't have to go into the store - my entire transaction is supposed to take place right here At The Pump. If I wanted to go into the store and interface with the cashier (who is inexplicably peering at me through the doors of the store as if I'm armed), I would have put my shoes on and done so. Well, I'm not doing it. I'm not putting my shoes on, and I'm not walking over there - the fearful cashier can just save that receipt until it yellows, because I Paid At The Pump, and I'm not going in!! I'll write my own receipt. I've got paper in the car. "11/7, $5, Diamond Shamrock." Ha!
Key in ignition, engine turns over, gas gauge reads...the same. It's as if I've added no gas to the tank whatsoever. And yet...I have this receipt that I just wrote for myself. Turn off the engine. Re-start. Nothing - I'm still sitting at my pre-Pay At The Pump levels. Cell phone.
"Dad, what does it mean when I put $5 of gas in the tank, and the gauge shows nothing?" (Me: expecting he'll say my gauge is broken, which would mean another trip to the repair shop, and NOT wanting to hear that.)
"You only put $5 in?"
'Yeah, and it's not registering."
"$5 is hardly anything."
"I know, but I've put $5 in it hundreds of times, and it always shows."
"You probably didn't put in enough."
"You're not listening - it always shows up. This time, it's like nothing happened."
"$5 isn't much - it's probably not enough."
"If you're going to keep repeating yourself about the $5, I'm going to have an aneurysm. In fact, I think I'm having one now. I can't talk to you anymore."
Heels on. Storm into store. Fearful cashier runs behind counter. I see that he's a hefty youth, with a hearing aid and his nails painted with chipping black polish. You are sad, little monkey, aren't you, son? He can't help me - he hands me the receipt, though. The manager is mopping the bathroom - good to know they do that. But she can't help me either. It's a mystery. I make a show of storming out and though I didn't intentionally squeel my tires as I left, I didn't feel bad about it either. I drive with angry purpose to the Shell station on the other side of the freeway - why, they're 10 cents cheaper! But I still only put in $6 in case there's some kind of hole in my tank or something. Low and behold, ALL of the gas registers this time. It's the car - this time I heard outright snickering.
So, I peel out of the Shell station, shifting angrily through the gears to punish the stupid Cougar. But in a strange mirroring of my relationships with men, I'm soon speeding along I-35 in 5th gear, much too fast, and enjoying my car again - the cruel mind games forgotten. You're a fun car, aren't you? Hey, let's turn up the radio real loud.
Monday, November 07, 2005
And we're off!
Okay, friends and neighbors, let's see how I do with this blog thing! As my intro says, I generally start a journal when suffering through some sort of angst, then when the drama is over, so is my journal. Let's see if I can find anything to talk about (that's fit for public consumption) when life is just rollin' along!
Today has been a chapter in my life as a car owner. I own a silver 2002 Cougar. It's a V6, and it's just plain SPIFFY! But it's also been a pain. I've had all kinds of repairs that I was trying to avoid by buying a brand new car back in February of 2002. Until then, I'd always had used cars, but I thought I'd step up and buy new and have everything work. That's what happens when you buy new, right - things work? Well, thank god I trust nothing to work as it should (I'm also a homeowner - I've long since learned to expect everything to crap out on you and the repairman to be late) and bought an extended warranty. I've used it. I've got 10,000 miles left on it, and I probably won't keep the car much past the warranty expiration. It's been suggested I consider an import next time. This tears at my patriotic soul, but so does having my car in the shop all the time. There's bound to be something un-American about that, too...
Anyway, I've had a brake light flickering on at times when it shouldn't for several weeks, and last week I noticed it leaking oil, so I thought I should get it looked at. "Getting it looked at" isn't as simple as it sounds. All you people out there with "spouses" and "second cars" or "access to public transportation" have no idea what a hassle it is for a single person living nowhere near a bus line to deal with these sorts of transit gliches. You can drive it down to the dealership or repair shop and leave it, but then what? If you can get it there in the morning, the repair guys *might* give you a ride to work, but how long will they have it? Can you get a ride back if they finish it in a day? Or do you have to impose on someone to drive you home? How will you get to work the next day? Do you rent a car? Can someone lend you a car? H.a.s.s.l.e.
Luckily, my parents live nearby, and they're able to loan me a car in these situations, but again, it involves bothering other people to arrange pickups and drop-offs and the like. But this is what one must do. So I did. On this occasion, it's simple maintenance stuff. The oil leak is something to do with the filter that should be easily fixed with an oil change, and the brake light is because I need fluid. $40, please, for the diagnosis. But at least I get my car back tonight. I think it might be laughing at me.
Today has been a chapter in my life as a car owner. I own a silver 2002 Cougar. It's a V6, and it's just plain SPIFFY! But it's also been a pain. I've had all kinds of repairs that I was trying to avoid by buying a brand new car back in February of 2002. Until then, I'd always had used cars, but I thought I'd step up and buy new and have everything work. That's what happens when you buy new, right - things work? Well, thank god I trust nothing to work as it should (I'm also a homeowner - I've long since learned to expect everything to crap out on you and the repairman to be late) and bought an extended warranty. I've used it. I've got 10,000 miles left on it, and I probably won't keep the car much past the warranty expiration. It's been suggested I consider an import next time. This tears at my patriotic soul, but so does having my car in the shop all the time. There's bound to be something un-American about that, too...
Anyway, I've had a brake light flickering on at times when it shouldn't for several weeks, and last week I noticed it leaking oil, so I thought I should get it looked at. "Getting it looked at" isn't as simple as it sounds. All you people out there with "spouses" and "second cars" or "access to public transportation" have no idea what a hassle it is for a single person living nowhere near a bus line to deal with these sorts of transit gliches. You can drive it down to the dealership or repair shop and leave it, but then what? If you can get it there in the morning, the repair guys *might* give you a ride to work, but how long will they have it? Can you get a ride back if they finish it in a day? Or do you have to impose on someone to drive you home? How will you get to work the next day? Do you rent a car? Can someone lend you a car? H.a.s.s.l.e.
Luckily, my parents live nearby, and they're able to loan me a car in these situations, but again, it involves bothering other people to arrange pickups and drop-offs and the like. But this is what one must do. So I did. On this occasion, it's simple maintenance stuff. The oil leak is something to do with the filter that should be easily fixed with an oil change, and the brake light is because I need fluid. $40, please, for the diagnosis. But at least I get my car back tonight. I think it might be laughing at me.
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