Call me, call me, any, anytime

Now that my toilets are under control, I've turned my attention to other household matters. Namely, my caller ID unit. I have a phone with built-in caller ID in my living room, and my tv (also in my living room) has caller ID that unreliably pops up on the screen via my satellite dish, but neither of these caller ID apparatussessess is as useful as my original stand-alone caller ID unit that I bought in like, 1997, or somewhere thereabouts.

This unit, which I keep in my bedroom, has a nice, large display that lights up as a call comes in, so that even in the middle of the night, I can clearly see what a-hole is calling me drunk at 12:40 a.m. on a Tuesday (all of my real friends know who exactly who that would've been, but that's not under discussion here). It also blinked a loud, insistent red light after a call had come in, until a cleared it. This was a forceful, urgent little light that could get my attention from across the room - even from the living room if I had an unobstructed view into the bedroom and to my bedside table. "Somebody called! They called!!! I know who it was!!!!" If I want that information from my living room telephone, *I* have to go to *it* and *ask.* I have to pick up the handset and push a series of buttons to see who called and when. I could go DAYS without ever knowing I'd even had a call. Weeks even.

And if the same number called more than once, the phone one only shows the most recent one. So, if someone were, say, calling me repeatedly from jail (turns out he was dialing the wrong number), that phone would show no record of how many times Tyrell had attempted to call Shaniqua at my home. Bedside Standalone Caller ID said, "10 times in the span of the last hour and half. Do you need the specific call times?"

So, you can see why Bedside Standalone Caller ID is far superior to phone caller ID and intermittent satellite tv caller ID. There's just no comparison. Well, this was all fine and dandy until I got Ava. Ava is my cat. She's about a year and a half old, and I got her when she was about 5 months old. She's given me a lot of material in the last year. I just haven't recorded it here yet, because I hoped to put a picture of her in here when I introduced her. But I don't have my digital camera yet, so here's a picture of a cat that looks similar to her:



Ava is a Siamese mix of some kind. I don't know mixed with what, but the vet says she's definitely got some Siamese, which I knew because I had a Siamese growing up. Anyway, she's white, with blue eyes, a tabby tail that looks like it belongs to a racoon, a heart-shaped blotch on her behind, a couple of splotches on her head by her ears, and one on one of her feet - like points, in other words. Ava is a handful. Maybe it's because she's a kitten. Maybe it's because she's psycho. But she loves me and greets me at the door when I get home and likes to get up on my shoulder at 3 a.m. and knead my shoulder and purr like chainsaw, so what more can you ask?

Well, I could ask that she stop chewing on cords in my house. See, this where we come back to the caller ID. She chewed through the caller ID cord. She killed it. It could no longer blink at me, or tell me who called, or light up as a call came through. It was a dark relic of information-filled past times. I was sad. And I had mean thoughts about Ava - you know, what with her having giving my favorite ankle boots the same treatment and any number of other items around the house. But I put that aside, and thought about how to resurrect Bedside Standalone Caller ID (BSCI).

I went to Radio Shack. I found an adapter that would work with BSCI, and an adaptaplug that seemed to fit. I bought them. $15. I took them home. I plugged them all in, and the adapter wasn't exactly right. It was kinda loose. It kinda came out. So, I taped it. That half-worked. So, I taped it and wrapped the cord in such a way as to create tension to hold the plug in place. It kinda sorta worked except when it didn't. I frequently came home to the plug no longer completing the connection, and BSCI dark and empty. Oh, and Ava chewed the cord again. (Don't start with me on cures for that little habit - I've tried everything - sprays, yelling, shooting water, wrapping them with electrical tape. So far, only wrapping cords in bubble wrap seems to have deterred her, and THAT looks good.)

So, I ask for a cord-protector set for Christmas. It's like this sheath you run your cords through, and it attaches to the baseboard so your cords are tucked out of view (and out of chew range). My mom loves me, so she got it for me. Back to Radio Shack for fresh cord supplies. This time I take the unit with me, along with the original adapter, to get JUST the right plug. We find it. It's adaptaplug size Q. But it has to be ordered online - they're out of stock. Of course they are. A few days later, UPS guy delivers my purchase, and we try again. I hook it all up, and...BSCI does nothing. Pardon?

I don't know if BSCI has given up, or the converter is bad or what, but it ain't respondin. Trip #3 to Radio Shack. They show me BSCI can work on batteries. Perhaps that would be the best choice. "Great!" I said, feeling like a moron I hadn't figured that out sooner. "No more cords!" I put the battery in, it starts working. Yeah, well, there's no more cords, but there's also no more lighting up when a call comes in. And the urgent little red light I used to get is but an anemic little blip you have to know to look for. This just will not do. But I don't want to buy another adapter and adaptaplug, and I don't want to go back to Radio Shack. I'm tired of them now.

So, I did what anyone would do. I turned to eBay for a replacement. I found a SWB standalone caller ID that someone was selling. I got it for $5.50. They *say* it's in great shape. We'll see. I just did the transaction yetserday, so it'll be a few days before I get it in the mail. It'd better light up when a call comes in. And it'd better have a flashing light that flags me down from across the room. I don't think I'll throw the old one away yet. I'm not ready to let go of it just yet. Maybe someday I can bring it back to its prime.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Again, these blog well-wishes would probably be more effective if my dad read my blog, but my dad pretty much sticks to reading sports stuff and financial stuff when he's online, so I haven't tried to steer him over here. However, he's still the greatest dad ever and the world should know it!

To all who read this, my dad is 72 today, and he still looks great and IS great, and I'm very, very lucky to have him as my dad! I hope this is a year full of joy and good health for him. Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you!

It's better out of a glass.

I don't have kids, but I have friends that do and my brother does, and the stories they tell about their kids really crack me up. It's easy to forget what life is like when everything is still new. Remember telling some joke you found *hilarious* to your mom, and she just sort of smiled, and you're like, "What's wrong with her? That was FUNNY!" Then you find out years later that the joke has been around for like 50 years? And don't even get me started about music and covers. I actually thought Shaun Cassidy was the first to sing "Da Do Ron Ron Ron."

Well, a friend of mine at work has a 10 year-old son, and said 10-year-old (TYO) had a "first" the other night. He was eating some kind of late-night snack that involved food on a plate and milk. He's eating his food, and it's all good. Then he takes a gulp of milk - only before the milk has gone down his throat, he sneezes. BAM! Milk through the nose and all over his food (I'm laughing and falling over on my desk at this point when the co-worker tells me the story).



It gets better. So stunned is TYO at this turn of events, that he begins to cry. My co-worker, being a big, burly, manly man kinda guy says sympathetically, "Why are you crying?" TYO replies with distress, "It's all over my food!" Now, I'M thinking at this point that perhaps he means snot, and I can see where that might shut-down one's appetite, though I can't see that it would bring me to tears. But co-worker was pretty sure it was just the presence of milk on TYO's food that caused the meltdown - that and a panicky fear about liquids launching themselves through his nasal cavities. So, co-worker tells him, again in the most sympathetic of tones, "It'll all be mixed in your stomach. Just eat it." (I may not have that part verbatim, but that was the gist.) My co-worker ain't raisin' no girly man! I said he should've told TYO that in a few years, he'll be doing that on purpose.

Aside from making me laugh until my eyes watered, this story brought up a discussion about food mixing. Seems TYO is non-mixer when it comes to his food. I, too, am a non-mixer. I'm actually an uber-non-mixer. Not only do I not mix my food before eating it, but I don't mix as I eat - meaning that I finish all of one thing before I move on to the next. I eat all my mac-n-cheese before I eat any corn, then all the corn before I eat my fish, etc. It's not an OCD thing. I don't care if my food touches or anything. But I want to enjoy fully the taste of Thing One, then I'm done and ready to move onto the flavor extravaganza that is Thing Two. And I always try to end with a dish I think or know will be tasty - wanna walk away from the table with a good taste in my mouth.

I never thought it out. The method just came naturally. (Does it suprise anyone that I'm an unusually organized person?) I've always eaten that way. My mom knew this. However, for some reason only other men would understand, my father didn't absorb this about me until well into my adulthood - like sometime in the last 10 years. After eating meals with me for decades, he finally notices one night and points it out. I look at him, then look at my mom, who looks as puzzled as I do, and I say, "I've always eaten this way." "You have?" my dad says, suprised. "Yeah!" my mom says, incredulously.

But that's my dad. He's an easygoing guy who doesn't worry about the little things. He knew enough to always notice when my mom got her hair done, though, and that put him ahead of most men!

I've been tagged!

Okay, I've been tagged for a meme, and I've never been tagged before (oh, for the days I could say that with regularity), so I'm assuming that all I do is post the questions that Melodious answered on her blog, and put in my answers! Judy did this same meme on her blog, and I noticed hers had a couple of extra questions, though, so I added them to the ones Melodious had. Here goes:

4 (of about 1,000) jobs I have had:

- clerk at a donut store (first job, at Shipley Donuts - see previous post!)
- usher at a special events center and a theater (I was a student, okay???)
- receptionist (my English degree was SO useful)
- writer/editor (thank you, UT, for the journalism degree)

4 movies I could watch over and over again:

- Casablanca (yeah, I'm one of THOSE people)
- Office Space ("Looks like you've been missing a lot of work lately." "Well, I wouldn't exactly say I've been *missing* it, Bob." Some people think of "Lord of the Rings" when they think of fantasy. I think of this movie.)
- The 'Burbs (Tom Hanks before he went all serious. But nothing is any funnier than when Bruce Dern's foot goes through the porch. I chuckle just thinking about it.)
- Notorious (I could just look at stills of Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman for hours.)

4 places I have lived:

Houston
Austin
San Marcos
Lafayette, Indiana

4 TV shows I love to watch (I'm a TV junkie, so there are many more I could list, but here are 4):

- The Amazing Race (NOT the family edition!)
- Criminal Minds
- King of Queens
- Dominick Dunne's Power, Privilege and Justice

4 favorite books:

- Memoirs of a Geisha (haven't seen the movie yet, but plan to)
- Tuesdays with Morrie
- Me Talk Pretty One Day
- Goldy Bear mysteries

4 places I've been on vacation:

- Ireland
- London
- Acapulco
- Salem, Massachusetts

4 Web sites I read every day (I can't say I check EVERY day, but most!)

- Yahoo
- The Animal Rescue Site
- The Daily Kitten
- Where One Day Runs into Another

4 favorite foods

- cheese enchiladas
- queso (sensing a theme?)
- guacamole
- spaghetti (see, I can branch out)

4 places you would rather be right now:

- home
- at a coffee shop
- at a movie, eating buttered popcorn
- on vacation anywhere

4 People I Am Tagging

Okay, I'm a big loser because I don't know enough bloggers to tag! I got this one from Melodious, who found me, and Judy's already done it, so it'll just have to work its way around blogworld without my help. Forgive me Blog gods!

The question of our times

It's an age-old dilemna: Home Depot or Lowe's? Lowe's or Home Depot? I'm a Lowe's gal, myself. Kinda like Target or Wal-Mart? Target. No contest. The difference is that I truly hate Wal-Mart and spit up a little in my mouth when I have to shop there because I can't find what I need anywhere else. With Home Depot, I feel okay about it - I'd just rather be at Lowe's.

This all comes up because now my *other* toilet has started a slow leak from the tank into the toilet! So, I'm having to replace the valve in that one, too. Luckily, I've done this once and know what to do and how to do it. I think I should stop using toilet tabs in the tank, though. I just started using those this past summer, and now the valves in both toilets show wear and deformation. I live alone, and I've only been in this house for 3 years. And I don't even use the guest bath that much. I don't have any medical conditions that affect this situation, and my cat is not toilet-trained. So, how much wear should one reasonably expect on the innards of my toilet? Of course, I bought my toilet tabs at Sam's, so I've got like 100 of them...okay, maybe not 100, but a lot. Anyone know someone who needs some Clorox toilet tabs?



UPDATE: Good news! When I got home with the new toilet part, the guest toilet didn't appear to be leaking anymore. I don't trust it, though. They're tricky little buggers. So, I'm keeping the part and hoping the threat of repair alone may stop it from leaking again.

What on earth?

Has it really been a week since my last post? That doesn't seem possible. I know I've been busy, but sheesh.

Let's see - what is there to catch you up on and/or post? Perhaps I should just hit the high points.

1. Mayor Nagin from New Orleans. Are you kidding me with this guy? Not only was he completely inept when the hurricane was bearing down, he just keeps on showing us that he's a moron. Before anyone starts on a FEMA rant, I know Nagin wasn't alone in his ineptitude, but he wasn't some lone voice of reason lost amid the squabbling federal politicians either. He was a moron. He did nothing. He stood there, confused and locked in panic, praying the thing would just pass the city by, doing nothing to get the people out. And let's not even talk about the years and years and years and years of warnings the city has had about what would happen if a hurricane like that ever came...and the whole lotta nothing Nagin did on ANY of that. No, let's just focus on last week, when Nagin said the spate of hurricanes that affected the U.S. in 2005 are proof that God is mad at America, particularly over Iraq. Wow. Now, that's insight. God must be REALLY angry with the Atlantic Ocean since that's where most hurricanes begin and end, never even coming near the U.S. I wonder what the Atlantic Ocean did???

2. Rain. We got rain!!! It wasn't alot, but that's a good thing. We haven't had any significant rainfall since Nov. 26, and that was only .33 of an inch. Our soil is like granite right now. We needed a nice, slow soaking to soften everything up and let the rain begin to seep down. We're supposed to get more toward the end of the week. I'm giddy!

3. Duke went down!!! Go Georgetown! You cute little Hoyas, you. Good for you! Duke had a couple of close calls this season, but managed to pull them out. Not Saturday, though. They went d-o-w-n. So did Pitt and Florida. No more undefeateds. My scrappy Longhorns ought to move up a notch. We won our game. Yeah, we did.

4. Anyone watching "Rollergirls"? I thought I would hate it. More trailer trash people to make Texas look stupid. Fantastic. But Vangie convinced me to watch it. Vangie is always up for a little trailer trash tv, and she's not afraid to say so. We watched many a Jerry Springer episode in our roommate days! And I could tell you a story about Anna Nicole, ninja spy. But that's for an evening after many drinks. It's not for the blog. Anyway, Vang and I could actually remember the women's names by the end of the first episode, so I knew I was hooked. I'm watching every week now. I may even go to a bout...with Vangie of course.

5. Shopping continues for the digital camera. After some research, I've got a list of candidates, and I've found a couple to try out. Now, I just have to find a good deal. Maybe this blog will have more pictures in the near future.

That's it for now. I told you - I'm busy!

Villanova, Villanova, Villanova!

My word - all I did was mention in passing that we played Villanova on Saturday, and my hits have gone through the roof.



You crazy Catholics - wadda ya love your school or something? I wouldn't know anything about that sort of thing. We Methodists have no such mania (and ignore all my posts about UT that might lead you to believe otherwise). Anyway, had I known it would be such a draw, I would've given you a more than just that the game was exciting and we won, and oh yeah, anyone see some kid from Kansas want to melt into the court last night?

Okay, just in case any of you come back, here's a little more. Villanova is a great basketball team. They're always in the tournament, and I always advance them pretty far into the bracket. Getting to play a great team like that during the season is SO much more fun than just playing the rinky dink teams we slaughter. Villanova was #3 going into the game, and we were #8. We've lost two games so far - Duke and Tennessee. Duke, you can't feel bad about - they're a freakin' machine. Tennessee hurt. So, this was another Duke-like game in that it was a highly ranked team with a strong history of putting out supah basketball teams. We were on our home court, which is always a plus, and the students are finally back, so we had the arena packed, and everyone was pumped.

All was going well, with a competitive game, and then something bad happened - we lost Brad Buckman. Again. He's having a real problem with injuries this year, and we were without him when we lost our other two games. (cringe) I believe it was an ankle injury. He looked dejected when he came back to the court - at least that's how it looked from the lofty perch where I was sitting. Anyway, we all tried not to panic. We're not a one-person team and we still had Gibson, Aldridge and Tucker. And besides, it's halfway through the season - time for the freshman to stop thinking of themselves as freshman. Get in there and knock around!

In the end, it was a tight game that came down to the last seconds. Our free-throw shooting had been crap all day, but finally came on at the end, when we needed it to. And we were able to get a really satisfying win, that's all the more confidence-boosting for being against a team such as Villanova. I'm sure we shall all dance again (if not with each other) in the Madness in March!!

I never see Paris Hilton at Speakeasy.

Twas a nice three-day holiday. I understand quite a few people out there had to go to school and work - that's a bummer. It's no fun to be chained to The Man when everyone else is enjoying their freedom. It's kinda like summertime when I have to drive by the elementary school by my house every day and be reminded of all the kids and teachers who are off enjoying life while I'm trudging to my fluorescently lighted cube to endure office politics. It's not a coincidence I buy more lottery tickets in the summer!

So, I have now seen Princess Bride. I laughed. I recognized some of the actors. I marveled at Robin Wright's desire to spend the rest of her life with Sean Penn. It was worth seeing. I thought I would go home right after, so I was dressed casually in jeans, cotton shirt and Clark's. But my friends suggested we get a drink - it was only 8:30 on a Friday night. I agreed that what with us all being over 21 and childless, it was absurd not to enjoy the nightlife of this great city. So, we went over to Speakeasy to check out the renovations made to the rooftop patio. I've always liked Speakeasy, but now I'm in luv - the new rooftop decor is awesome! It's like an outdoor living room, with cushions and even a giant bed-like area in one corner. You can have a drink, lounge on the cushions, leaning against pillows, looking at the stars and the hubbub of the Warehouse District. There was also a DJ playing some good tunes. Luv it. Oh, and as my title says, you'll never run into Paris Hilton there, so what's not to love? And the joy didn't stop there.

One of my favorite bands, Dysfunkshun Junkshun just happened to be playing downstairs in the main part of the bar - woohoo!!! After a drink or two up on the rooftop, we headed downstairs and had a few more while dancing the night away. I wasn't exactly in clubbin' clothes, but I was with my friends, so I didn't care. I danced my booty off anyway and had a great time. Fun night. Good times.

Of course, I'm old, so a late night out is always followed by an afternoon of napping and an early night the next day. But I was treated to a fantastic basketball game in the afternoon on Saturday - Texas beat Villanova, and I was there to see the whole thing. It was really exciting! Our basketball team is really clicking right now. I think they're going to have a great rest of their season! Tonight we play Tech. Clint, I luv ya, and I normally root for your Techsters, but tonight you know I gotta root for you guys and Mr. Knight to go dowwwwwwn!!

Speaking of basketball, did anyone catch the Kansas/Missouri game last night? What a barnburner! And I never felt so sorry for anyone as I did for Christian Moody of Kansas. He could've won the game on the last play of regulation time with either of two freethrows. He missed them both, then Kansas lost in overtime. That kid is going to see those freethrows in his dreams. Poor guy. I wanted to just muss his mop of hair and give him a hug. Of course, when we play them, my mercy will be gone. My maternal instincts go out the window when Texas is playing.

Do the right thing.

Today is a happy Friday! All Fridays are happy in that I'm facing two whole days off to do as I wish, but this Friday is better than most because I'll have THREE days to do as I wish. Come Monday, it'll be like I'm independently wealthy and don't have to work! At least that's what I'll pretend. I have a dream, too.

I'm assuming you all have Monday off as well. I think everyone gets MLK Day off - it's a national holiday, right? I am what's known as a "government employee" so I get all kinds of random days off. HEY!!! Don't shoot your scorn at me! I know all the stereotypes about government employees. But step off, man! In exchange for extra days off throughout the year, I get a lower salary than I'd get in the private sector, no profit sharing, no 401k matching, no bonus at the end of the year, or many other perks that you private-sector people have. And I have to put up with all those people who actually fit the stereotype. So, it's a trade-off, trust me.

I admit I don't plan on attending any MLK festivities on Monday. I'm going to go shopping. Mr. King wanted us to be free to make our own choices about what to do with our lives, unfettered by societally imposed notions of what we should be or artificial barriers to what we can do, so in the spirit of his work, I shun politically correct pressure to attend parades or listen to speakers and I exert my free will to shop. It's the right thing to do.

Tonight, though, I'm going to The Paramount to see "Princess Bride." I'm going to confess something here. I've never actually seen that entire movie. I know! It's a travesty. I've also never seen "Top Gun." Or "Forrest Gump." Or any number of other movies that other people assume everyone on the planet has seen. But you've probably never seen "Lost In America," and that's one of my favorite movies of all time, so when you rent that, you can bust my chops about "Forrest Gump."

Facing reality

Okay, I'm over my romantic fantasy about donuts today. I look back on yesterday and blush. That wasn't love. That was lust. And I exaggerated when I said I could never love another as I love the chocolate-iced cake donut. Truth is, I could eat Shipley Donuts glazed donuts, the best donuts ever made, until I puke or lapse into a glucose-induced coma.





Same goes for Round Rock glazed donuts, which are pretty much like Shipley's except with this wacky yellow glaze, which deters me from eating them not in the least. To understand how great these donuts are, take note of the following: my first job ever was working at a Shipley's on the weekends from 6 a.m. to Noon when I was 15. We could eat all we wanted while on duty. You'd think I'd never want to touch another one. But if you can even think that, it means you've never had a Shipley glazed donut - certainly not a warm one, with freshly crystallized glaze. No, there is no tiring of that.

I also confess to having a soft spot for the cake donut bathed in powdered sugar (sigh). But as I said, this is not love. It is lust. I know that now.

I love you.

I love you. You are sweet. You fill me with a rush of satisfaction. You don't ask anything in return for the pleasure you bring, and just looking at you makes me smile. And baby, you know you make my mouth moist with feelings of desire. Just the thought of you makes me licks my lips - don't even pretend you didn't know that and it doesn't give you a thrill. I could never love any other the way I love you.

You are all I could ask you to be, chocolate-covered cake donut.



(P.S. I had to have a Fresca at lunch instead of real Coke and low-cal oatmeal for breakfast - ewwww - instead of anything edible to give me the caloric room for Mr. Love Bunny Donut, but it was worth it. I love you, Smoochie Donut Pants. You're the best!)

Stamp ceiling

We hit it. We officially hit the stamp price ceiling at which I'm prepared to mail items willy-nilly. 39 cents.

Who know that would be it? I didn't feel it coming on when we were at 37 cents - the fifth increase since 1991. I remember feeling a pang of irritation each time the postal service would tack on another cent here, another cent there. But I would pay it, not really changing how I did anything. "Bloodsuckers," I'd think. But then someone would say how it costs $3 to send a letter in Ghana or something, and I'd be glad I live in the U.S. and go on about my business.

But then I heard on Saturday, while I just happened to be listening to the morning news instead of a food show or "The Soup" as I would normally do on a Saturday morning, that Saturday was the last day to mail anything for 37 cents. Those masters of inefficiency at the postal service had hiked the rates yet again.

Now, let's make sure we get this. With the rise of email, virtually no one writes letters anymore. With the popularity of e-cards, hardly anyone writes cards anymore, except for very special occasions. Thanks to autopay options for bills, only a portion of one's bills in any given month actually need to be paid with a check stuffed in an envelope adorned with a stamp. So, as I understand the trend of the last 10 years or so, demand for the postal service's product has diminished. At the same time, there is no shortage of supply - I have yet to walk into a post office, ask for a stamp, and be told, "There's been a run on them, ma'am. I'm sorry, but we're fresh out. You'll have to come back next week. Would you like to place a pre-order?"

Now, I only took a smattering of Economics courses during my academic career, but one thing I remember pretty clearly: when demand rises, prices rise. Taking it a step further: if demand is high, and supply is low, prices rise even higher. The converse is also true: if demand decreases, prices decrease. If demand decreases, and supply is high, prices decrease even more. And eventually, if no one wants your product, or they're not willing to pay what you're charging, you go out of business. There you have it, folks: Capitalism 101.

So, how is it that the postal service can keep increasing prices as the demand for their product decreases? That's simple. The postal service is not subject to laws of the marketplace. The US Postal Service is a quasi-government organization. Like every other government enterprise, it need not be efficient to stay in business.

Not that I'm not glad they ARE in business. I'd still rather pay 39 cents per letter than $12 to send it FedEx (though each piece of mail would be tracked and would get there the next day - BOY do those folks at FedEx know what they're doing!). But as I said at the beginning, I've hit a wall. I've looked at my budget to see which bills I can feel comfortable putting on autopay to my credit card (so I can still dispute a charge if I need to) so that I can avoid what amounts to a 39-cent tax on every bill I pay. I've switched over a couple of bills already, and I'm trying to decide about putting my SBC on autopay. The bill pretty much never changes since I use my cell for long distance, so I don't see a reason not to. But I'm not sure I'm ready to give SBC unfettered access to my credit card. I'm not sure I trust them. Something about them might be evil.

Anyone else out there use autopay for their bills? Online pay? What's your experience?

A trip to the Co-op.

I braved the crowds this weekend to go to the Co-op and get national championship "stuff." I bought a t-shirt and a glass to go with the glass my parents gave me from the 1969 national championship that we won. I thought it was from the 1970 championship, but it's from 1969, which is even better, because 1969 is my birth year. I may buy more stuff as time goes by, but I wanted those two things right off (I'm not afraid they'll run out of t-shirts right away, but I didn't know about the glass), so I waded into the mass of humanity.

I managed to grab a shirt I thought would be cute off a table in the center of the store. It was one of those baby-doll cuts, though, so I really wanted to try it on and make sure it wasn't too small. I hate shirts that ride up under my underarm the whole time, but I wanted something a little more fitting and feminine than a regular t-shirt if I could find one. So, I went in search of a dressing room. An employee told me there were dressing rooms upstairs, so I headed up there. The crowds were lighter up there, but I couldn't find the dressing room. So, I see this Hispanic woman standing with her back to the wall who is clearly some kind of employee, though not someone in sales, since she's not actually doing anything. I approach.

"Do you have a dressing room around here?"

"(Mumble, mumble) clinic."

Pause.

"I'm sorry?"

"(Mumble, mumble) clinic."

Blank stare. Clinic? There's a clinic at the Co-op? Why is there a clinic here? And what does that have to do with me trying on my shirt?

Exasperatedly, the woman says, "By the makeup."

I look to my right, and what do I see? A Clinique counter. I'm assuming the dressing rooms are in the vicinity of this Clinic counter, so I head that way. Indeed, they are behind the counter. I try on my shirt, causing my hair to fly in all directions from static electricity. But what do I care? No one is going to try and pick me up in the melee at the Co-op. Shoot, my electric hair may actually draw attention from someone cute. You never know, right?

I head to the counter with my purchase - it's all only taken about 15 minutes. Nice. Unfortunately, it takes me 20 minutes to check out. There were only 3 people in front of me, so I foolishly thought this would be a quick line. I had not anticipated that the clerk had nowhere else to be and would not be concerned that I did. The guy in front of me attended the game and made sure all of us knew it. He and his family spent $489 on merchandise, all of which had to be slowly and individually wrapped and put into bags by The Clerk With Nowhere To Go. These are the moments God gives me to practice the virtue of "patience." Though I wanted to jump behind the counter and check everyone out myself so we could get on with it, I never so much as muttered my aggravation. I even smiled when I finally got to the counter. Aren't you proud of me?

Only those who knew me 10-15 years ago can appreciate the significance of that moment and my reaction. Have you ever seen the movie "French Kiss" with Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline?



There's a scene where Meg Ryan is trying to deal with a snooty French hotel concierge, and after he is rude and unhelpful to her one too many times, she screws up her face, and tells him how when he acts like that it makes her CRAZY and begins to ring his little bell incessently. I saw that movie with my friend Vangie, and when that scene came on, she looked at me and said, "That's you." I laughed, completely uninsulted, because she was right.

Hear me roar.

I want credit. Do you hear me? I want kudos and pats on the back - applause maybe. Not for the Longhorns' win - I had nothing to do with that (except will them to victory with the force of my desire!!!!). No, I want your undying admiration because I, little ole me, am fixing my own toilet.

I'm not talking about plunging. I did that, too, when I first had the house and my toilet was new and unsure of itself. I'm talking about MAKING A REPAIR.

For weeks, it's been running. Not loudly. But insistently. I haven't felt a need to jiggle the handle or try some kind of repeat flushing or something. It's not anything I could hear in the wall or the tank. I didn't even hear it at first. I saw it. I noticed that there seemed to be a trickle of water entering the bowl from the tank for no apparent reason - it hadn't been recently flushed. This is impressive since I keep the lid down most of the time. I actually have no idea when it started precisely for that reason. But I noticed it.

I knew I should do something, but the holidays were in full force, and I didn't have time to ask my dad to come look at it (Always have your dad look - he'll look for free. He may not know how to fix it, but he'll look. And *maybe* he'll know how to fix it. A plumber will charge you just to look, and maybe it's something you could've fixed. That's free advice - from this homeowner to you.). I thought of one other person who might be able to help me, but there wasn't a convenient time to ask him either. So, I let it trickle. But as these things usually go, the trickle got bolder. It began to pick up momentum, until I couldn't just see it anymore - I could hear it. A soft little fountain gurgling happily next to me when I stood at the sink. I kept lifting the lid, looking at it as it picked up steam a little more each day. But I'm busy! I don't have time for this!

I even printed out instructions from the Web last week on how to repair a running toilet. But I kept reading them and thinking, "This is plumbing! What do I know of plumbing! Floats and valves and...it says the word 'cock' in these instructions. How did that get through my Internet filter? I should go update my software. That I know how to do."

Last night, though, I could take my timidity no more. If Vince Young can rise up from the ghettos in Houston to become the greatest player in college football (screw the Heisman), then by God I can fix my own toilet!!! So, I did it. I picked up the instructions, went into the bathroom, and removed the top off the tank. I tried the first couple of things they told me to try - no dice. Then it said to reach down into the tank, to the bottom, and push down the edges of the valve at the bottom to see if the seal was no longer working properly. "I can't put my hand into a toilet tank."

A week ago, this would've stopped me. But not now. Not after the Rose Bowl. I went and got a Playtex rubber glove.



Yes, I did. If they're good enough for cleaning up when my cat misses the litter box, they're good enough for the toilet tank. I slipped that thick yellow toilet-water prophylactic on, and I plunged my hand into that tank like I put the Roto in Rooter. I pressed on the seal around the valve, peered into the bowl, and lo and behold, the trickling stopped! It was the VALVE!!!

I checked my instructions again. Turn the water off, flush to drain out the water in the tank (I flushed twice - let's get out as much of the reviled tank water as possible), remove the valve, take it to Home Depot and get a new one. Put the new one on, and voila!!! A quiet, still toilet, as nature intended. Glove still firmly in place, I followed the instructions to remove the valve, and it does appear to be deformed in one spot. I'm going today to get the new valve, and I'm sure I will hear Helen Reddy singing in my head as I peruse the plumbing aisle.

The only possible downside to this is if I'm married someday and my husband expects me to still do such things.

WE DID IT!!!!!

Folks, it just don't get no better than that!!! Not only did I get the outcome I wanted, but it was an incredible game! It was close the whole game, proving that the two teams that were playing this year were properly matched (no controversy this year over who *should* have been playing or whether either team belonged there), with amazing plays on both sides. The coaches were both aggressive with their play calling, and the star players were all making star plays, and it was just *incredible*!!!

I've been getting emails from friends of mine from all over the country - one of whom told me that some USC fans were whining on the chat boards about the refs, but I'm not even going to hear that. There *were* questionable and bad calls all night, but they went both ways. There were times you could see we'd gotten a play that could've been called back (like that awesome lateral from Vince that we scored on where the tv replay showed Vince's knee was down a split-second before the ball was out of his hands), and there were times you could see that we were denied something we should've gotten (like the interception we made that was called an incomplete on the field, but the replay showed our guy had control of the ball when he hit the ground and was down). It went BOTH ways, and BOTH teams scored on drives that included those bad calls, so don't even go there.

The teams were both awesome, and they both played well with all their stars and starters healthy and ready to go, and they both made mistakes the other side capitalized on, and they both made amazing plays you couldn't even believe you were seeing, and both got calls and lost calls, and the game was all it should've been. Had it gone into overtime, who knows how it would've turned out? But it didn't. We won, and it's just INCREDIBLE!

A few thoughts:

Sandra Day O'Connor tossing the game coin? As my friend Jason says, "Because nothing says 'college football' like Sandra Day O'Connor."

They had to use helicopters hovering over the field to dry it from all the recent rains. Cool and Hollywood-ish. But a little 20th century, doncha think? We've had a field for years that draws water down out of the turf from below.

You'd have thought that USC was the only team playing with any celebrities rooting for them or families present. I saw one shot of Matthew McConaughey in the pre-game, and the rest of the game all we saw were glimpses of Will Ferrell, that guy from Desperate Housewives, and Matt Leinart's dad, rooting for USC. Lance Armstrong was there rooting for UT - didn't see that didja? I don't know who else was there of note for UT, because ABC didn't show it. Not that it matters, really. Those are just people who had a ticket that I should've had. They also didn't show OJ Simpson somewhere in the stands for USC. Probably they just couldn't find him in the crowd - I'm sure that was it. (Can you imagine the horror of showing up with your $1,000 ticket, wandering around til you find your section, picking your way to your row, carefully looking at each seat number on your row while juggling your $10 coke and $6 pretzel, counting down to your seat, smiling when you find it, then looking up and finding that you're sitting next to OJ? What in all that is holy do you do with that?)

After all the insanity dies down around campus, I'll go get me a shirt and anything else that strikes my fancy to commemorate this amazing event! I have a glass from our 1970 national championship that my parents owned and gave me several years ago. I'll see if I can find it a mate. But I'm not even heading to the Drag until the euphoria wears off. It's a madhouse down there! I drove near campus last night about 12:30, and it was craaaaazy! Cars everywhere, horns honking, flags waving, people yelling - it was GREAT! And today the stores are mobbed. I can't shop under those conditions. I'll walk out with God knows what.

"Oh. Look. I bought a $50 sleep shirt that no one will see. And a stuffed Bevo with a rose in his teeth. And...I don't even know what this is. And what am I going to do with a 2006 Rose Bowl commemorative plate?"

Happiness is an orange tower. With a big #1 on it.

So, today is the day people. Tonight is the night. The moment has arrived. The rubber meets the road. Time to put up or shut up. Shit or get off the pot (sorry Judy's mom if you had to see that, but you can't mince words at a time like this).

I can't even tell you how excited and nervous I am about UT playing USC tonight! We haven't played for the national championship in football since 1970 - I was one-year-old!! I'm a huge fan - I've got season tickets - I've been going to games my entire life, so I can say this is officially the biggest game I've ever seen!

I have no idea what to expect. USC is awesome. No doubt about it. And Texas - WOW, what a year!! It's been incredible to be a Texas fan this year. Will we come out tonight and show ourselves to be USC's equals?? Will we take down a dynasty and create one for ourselves in the process? Or will they show us and everyone else that they're on a level completely apart from anyone else in college football? Will it be a barn-burner or will it be close? What are we going to see tonight?

(Please let this be what we'll see tonight - say around 11:00 or so.)

It's going to be SO EXCITING!!! Or at least I hope it's exciting...please let it be exciting. Please don't let us be OU of last year. That would suck. (It sucks anytime you have to think of yourself as being OU, but it's doubly offensive to think of yourself as a cocky OU that got throat-punched to their knees on national television.)

Vince, you're amazing. We've got offense. We've got defense. We've got special teams. I've got snack foods, champagne, a big screen and my friends. There's nothing else I can do, people! I've done all I can!! It's up to the boys, now.

Hook 'em, babies.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today is a special day - my mom's birthday! Now, my birthday greetings might make more sense if my mom actually read my blog, which she doesn't because I never gave her the address (I like to think that a certain amount of censorship between a parent and an adult child is a healthy thing), but a shout-out is a shout-out, even if the person being shouted to doesn't know it. :) So Mom, you're a great mom and a great person, and I'm glad you were born, and glad I was born to you, and I'm grateful for every day that we have each other to love. Few people on Earth got as lucky as I did in the Mom department.

In honor of this momentous occasion, I present you with Happy Birthdays from around the world! Enjoy!

2006 - under way.

Hello all. I hope everyone had a safe and happy New Year's Eve and that your new year is starting out the way you want. My allergies are a wee bit better thanks to a cocktail of prescription and over-the-counter drugs and lots of liquids (gotta keep things flowin' ya know). And my New Year's Eve was great. I had a lot of fun at the gala, and my dress was a big hit, and my friends are awesome and I will always remember this year as one of my best!