I have a mouth to breathe through, so whatever. My cold somewhat lingers, and now my allergies are kicking up. So, I can add sneezing to the coughing and congestion.
The one thing that's made me feel better this week is an interview in "The Onion" with Reno 911!'s Dangle and Junior. That show is a scream, and these guys are hilarious. I should warn you that it's not for the easily offended. If you laugh in the face of stereotypes and tongue-in-cheek offensive jokes, though, put on yer laffin' cap!
I have to go do some work stuff now and earn another day's pay, so I'll keep it short. That is all.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
Hope and free bacon.
Not sure why, but I have access to Blogger this morning, so I'll put up a quick post then run away!
Beautiful weekend here - sunshine and in the 70s. I got to sleep in, see the folks, do some yard work, go to church, watch some basketball and go to my book club. Not a bad way to spend two days! A nice weekend like that can make going back to work on Monday painful, though.
This week is especially rough. There's construction going on on part of my route to work, and if I leave at my regular time, my 30-minute commmute turns into an 80- to 90-minute commute. No exaggeration. So, I'm now having to leave the house around 6:30 instead of 7:00. Traffic windows being what they are, that gets me to work way early, but that's better than way late, and those seem to be my two choices at the moment. In any case, getting up at 5:30 is WAY worse than getting up at 6:00. Waaaaaay worse.
Had a message in my email inbox this morning from Reeves Q. Hope. The subject line read: "But please note that Free Bacon !" When someone named Hope wants to give you free bacon, that can't be wrong, can it? I should open the message and see how to get my bacon.
Beautiful weekend here - sunshine and in the 70s. I got to sleep in, see the folks, do some yard work, go to church, watch some basketball and go to my book club. Not a bad way to spend two days! A nice weekend like that can make going back to work on Monday painful, though.
This week is especially rough. There's construction going on on part of my route to work, and if I leave at my regular time, my 30-minute commmute turns into an 80- to 90-minute commute. No exaggeration. So, I'm now having to leave the house around 6:30 instead of 7:00. Traffic windows being what they are, that gets me to work way early, but that's better than way late, and those seem to be my two choices at the moment. In any case, getting up at 5:30 is WAY worse than getting up at 6:00. Waaaaaay worse.
Had a message in my email inbox this morning from Reeves Q. Hope. The subject line read: "But please note that Free Bacon !" When someone named Hope wants to give you free bacon, that can't be wrong, can it? I should open the message and see how to get my bacon.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Wouldn't a gun be easier?
I'm finally emerging from my Week O' Illness. This time last week, I was still riddled with fever and printing out instructions from my insurance company on what I was supposed to do if a trip to the emergency room should be necessary. God, I long for the olden days, before HMOs, when you just went to a doctor or an emergency room when you were sick - no preauthorizations or your insurance company refusing to pay for things, etc. The person with medical education simply decided what needed to be done, they did it, you paid your portion of it, insurance paid the rest, and you went on your way. But like several other things in my life, those days are gone forever, never to return.
Luckily, a trip to medical professionals did not become necessary. The whole family did become involved, though. My parents came and took me to their house, so I wouldn't die alone like that guy in New York, where no one noticed for a year. And my cousin, who is not a doctor, but does have medical education, gave us some pointers on how to get my fever down and at what point we should venture into the Illegal Alien Free Clinic (also known as the hospital emergency room). We were able to get my fever down on Sunday (with one more bout of it that night), and from then on, it's just been a slow recovery from the other symptoms.
I attribute my survival of this ordeal to "Tylenol Cold and Flu Severe Nighttime Liquid with Instant Cool Burst Sensation." Probably you could shorten the name. It's a little rough going down - I felt a lot like Lucy in the Vitameatavegimin commercial. My dad laughed at me. But I give it its full due. It was the most effective medication of everything I put in my body during all this. In part, it was so effective because it contains pseudoephedrine HCI. You know what that is - it's Sudafed before the meth addicts ruined it for everyone by using that drug to produce their poison, creating an "epidemic" of toothless losers, causing the government to pull pseudoephedrine from the shelves (can you still get it if you wait in line at the pharmacy and ask the pharmacist for some?), stranding those of us with debilitating congestion. Bastards.
Apparently, my mom had bought this bottle before all that happened, so it had the good stuff in it, and unlike the decongestant that's now on the shelves as a substitute for pseudoephedrine, this stuff actually works. The effect is that not only do I feel better physically after I use it, but I get all the madder at the stupid meth addicts for making it harder for those of us who need it to get it. If you're that determined to destroy yourself (and clearly you are or you wouldn't be smoking that shit), couldn't you just blow your brains out? Meth is a slow way to go, and it just causes problems for the rest of us, so wouldn't you like a nice pistol instead - maybe a shotgun? They don't sell guns or ammunition at H-E-B, Walgreen's or CVS (not even here in Texas), so your desire to die would in no way interfere with my desire to breathe. I really think this could work for all of us.
I suppose this may seem harsh to some. Mass suicide for meth addicts so I can have the original formulation of Sudafed right there on the drug aisle, where I don't have to speak to anyone to make my purchase (they have self-checkout lanes now). But when you're on Day 9 of Respiratory Ailment with Congestion, Cough and Headache with only marginally effective over-the-counter medication, I'll bet you'll be jumpin' on this bandwagon. You think you're nicer than me and all sympathetic and caring, but trust me. By Day 9, you just want some pseudoephedrine on the shelf.
Luckily, a trip to medical professionals did not become necessary. The whole family did become involved, though. My parents came and took me to their house, so I wouldn't die alone like that guy in New York, where no one noticed for a year. And my cousin, who is not a doctor, but does have medical education, gave us some pointers on how to get my fever down and at what point we should venture into the Illegal Alien Free Clinic (also known as the hospital emergency room). We were able to get my fever down on Sunday (with one more bout of it that night), and from then on, it's just been a slow recovery from the other symptoms.
I attribute my survival of this ordeal to "Tylenol Cold and Flu Severe Nighttime Liquid with Instant Cool Burst Sensation." Probably you could shorten the name. It's a little rough going down - I felt a lot like Lucy in the Vitameatavegimin commercial. My dad laughed at me. But I give it its full due. It was the most effective medication of everything I put in my body during all this. In part, it was so effective because it contains pseudoephedrine HCI. You know what that is - it's Sudafed before the meth addicts ruined it for everyone by using that drug to produce their poison, creating an "epidemic" of toothless losers, causing the government to pull pseudoephedrine from the shelves (can you still get it if you wait in line at the pharmacy and ask the pharmacist for some?), stranding those of us with debilitating congestion. Bastards.
Apparently, my mom had bought this bottle before all that happened, so it had the good stuff in it, and unlike the decongestant that's now on the shelves as a substitute for pseudoephedrine, this stuff actually works. The effect is that not only do I feel better physically after I use it, but I get all the madder at the stupid meth addicts for making it harder for those of us who need it to get it. If you're that determined to destroy yourself (and clearly you are or you wouldn't be smoking that shit), couldn't you just blow your brains out? Meth is a slow way to go, and it just causes problems for the rest of us, so wouldn't you like a nice pistol instead - maybe a shotgun? They don't sell guns or ammunition at H-E-B, Walgreen's or CVS (not even here in Texas), so your desire to die would in no way interfere with my desire to breathe. I really think this could work for all of us.
I suppose this may seem harsh to some. Mass suicide for meth addicts so I can have the original formulation of Sudafed right there on the drug aisle, where I don't have to speak to anyone to make my purchase (they have self-checkout lanes now). But when you're on Day 9 of Respiratory Ailment with Congestion, Cough and Headache with only marginally effective over-the-counter medication, I'll bet you'll be jumpin' on this bandwagon. You think you're nicer than me and all sympathetic and caring, but trust me. By Day 9, you just want some pseudoephedrine on the shelf.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Sniff. COUGH!!
Very short post to alert the Webosphere that I am illin'. Caught some kind of respiratory virus. Congested. Can't breathe. Coughing - the lung-clearing kind. Headache. Fever. Don't get this. You don't want it.
I am fever-free at this moment, but I was yesterday, too, until the evening, when Mr. Fever reappeared. I think he was laughing. I said a bad word. Hopefully, tonight will be different and I can leave that phase of this behind.
Could be worse, though. I could be puking. Thank God for small favors.
I am fever-free at this moment, but I was yesterday, too, until the evening, when Mr. Fever reappeared. I think he was laughing. I said a bad word. Hopefully, tonight will be different and I can leave that phase of this behind.
Could be worse, though. I could be puking. Thank God for small favors.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
It's just 6 numbers, right?
It's Thursday. More crap than usual coming down the pike. When do I get to win the lottery and be done with so very much of said crap?
I saw an E! True Hollywood Story about lottery winners who blamed the lottery for ruining their lives. They were idiots all. The blew all of their money, ran around flashing their money then were surprised when they got robbed, did a lot of drugs and wrecked their cars. Who you are before you get that check is you are afterward. If you can't handle money before it's 7 figures, you won't be able to handle it when it is.
Me? I can handle my money now. And it's not 7 figures. So, ergo, I'm that person who actually *should* win the lottery. I'm just sayin'.
I saw an E! True Hollywood Story about lottery winners who blamed the lottery for ruining their lives. They were idiots all. The blew all of their money, ran around flashing their money then were surprised when they got robbed, did a lot of drugs and wrecked their cars. Who you are before you get that check is you are afterward. If you can't handle money before it's 7 figures, you won't be able to handle it when it is.
Me? I can handle my money now. And it's not 7 figures. So, ergo, I'm that person who actually *should* win the lottery. I'm just sayin'.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Everyone needs a Big Brother.
I'm always careful not to write about my job. I don't say where I work, or even what industry. I've only said in my profile that I'm a writer and editor in my real life. I don't comment on my co-workers or boss (except to say that I wanted my Wurstfest experience to be sans-boss, but that's not so odd that you don't want to socialize with your boss after working with him all week). I don't want to be one of those "instructional stories" for other people, where you write things you shouldn't on a public forum, then get fired, robbed, etc.
But today, I feel just the slightest bit justified in commenting about one, small aspect of my employment experience. You see, today, I hopped onto Blogger to submit my daily dose of wisdom and wit, only to find that Big Brother (aka my employer) is now blocking Blogger. Yes, that's right. Along with porn sites and other degenerate locations, we drones will no longer be able to waste valuable time at Blogger.
We got new management about a month and a half ago, and I was recently warned on the underground network that the new bosses were "monitoring our Web use." I wondered if this meant they were gunning for a reason to fire specific people or what. Because I've got news for you. No one is 100% in compliance with work guidelines that say you can only use your work computer for personal stuff on your lunch hour. They're just not. Even the most perfect people check the weather report or occasionally click on a story about Anna Nicole or (gasp!) take a gander at their Yahoo email.
Everyone, even the robot employees, sooner or later takes a few minutes in between diligently cranking out work product to surf a little. It's the 21st century version of the water cooler. So, all employers know that if they want to find a reason to fire someone, all they have to do is dig around on an employee's computer. They can FIND a reason if they want one.
While that may be part of what's going on at my happy workplace, it would also appear they're also trying to find out what sites they haven't blocked that their bad, bad employees are going to that there isn't a work reason to be going to. Blogger would appear to be one of those. So, there, Bad Employee - no more Blogger for you!
And thank God. Because where I might have spent 10 or 20 minutes blogging before when I was in between projects, now I will undoubtedly run to my boss and say, "I have nothing productive to do - can I pleeeeeease have another project to fill this time??" I feel like a better employee already, just *knowing* that my Big Brother has saved me from myself and my wasteful ways. Before, I was just making all my deadlines and doing quality work. Now, I can...make my deadlines and do quality work. I'm telling you, this changes everything!!!
In all seriousness, I don't know how much blogging I'll do now that I can't do it from work. I'm online all day at work (working on work stuff I assure you, Big Brother, if you read this!!!), so the last thing I want to do when I get home or on weekends is get back online. I'm blogging now on my lunch hour from a coffee shop, but I have no intention of spending every lunch hour blogging either. I use my lunch hour to run errands and...eat lunch. So the future of this blog is in question at the moment.
I'm sure you'll all survive if this blog disappears. I don't exactly have a lot of readership. But it's a bummer. I get that my work computer does not belong to me, and that my employer owns my time when I'm there. I'm not confused about that. But I never once let a deadline slide so I could blog or said anything disparaging about my employer or otherwise abused the limited freedom I had by having access to Blogger. I've been reliable and efficient and effective. Think of it this way, instead of a smoke break, like all the smokers in the building, I took blog breaks. I spent far less time writing my blog a few times a week, than the smokers on my floor take by taking their 50 smoke breaks outside every day. Instead of worrying about blocking innocuous Web sites, why don't you crack down on the smokers who can't be found at their desks half the day? How about that?
But today, I feel just the slightest bit justified in commenting about one, small aspect of my employment experience. You see, today, I hopped onto Blogger to submit my daily dose of wisdom and wit, only to find that Big Brother (aka my employer) is now blocking Blogger. Yes, that's right. Along with porn sites and other degenerate locations, we drones will no longer be able to waste valuable time at Blogger.
We got new management about a month and a half ago, and I was recently warned on the underground network that the new bosses were "monitoring our Web use." I wondered if this meant they were gunning for a reason to fire specific people or what. Because I've got news for you. No one is 100% in compliance with work guidelines that say you can only use your work computer for personal stuff on your lunch hour. They're just not. Even the most perfect people check the weather report or occasionally click on a story about Anna Nicole or (gasp!) take a gander at their Yahoo email.
Everyone, even the robot employees, sooner or later takes a few minutes in between diligently cranking out work product to surf a little. It's the 21st century version of the water cooler. So, all employers know that if they want to find a reason to fire someone, all they have to do is dig around on an employee's computer. They can FIND a reason if they want one.
While that may be part of what's going on at my happy workplace, it would also appear they're also trying to find out what sites they haven't blocked that their bad, bad employees are going to that there isn't a work reason to be going to. Blogger would appear to be one of those. So, there, Bad Employee - no more Blogger for you!
And thank God. Because where I might have spent 10 or 20 minutes blogging before when I was in between projects, now I will undoubtedly run to my boss and say, "I have nothing productive to do - can I pleeeeeease have another project to fill this time??" I feel like a better employee already, just *knowing* that my Big Brother has saved me from myself and my wasteful ways. Before, I was just making all my deadlines and doing quality work. Now, I can...make my deadlines and do quality work. I'm telling you, this changes everything!!!
In all seriousness, I don't know how much blogging I'll do now that I can't do it from work. I'm online all day at work (working on work stuff I assure you, Big Brother, if you read this!!!), so the last thing I want to do when I get home or on weekends is get back online. I'm blogging now on my lunch hour from a coffee shop, but I have no intention of spending every lunch hour blogging either. I use my lunch hour to run errands and...eat lunch. So the future of this blog is in question at the moment.
I'm sure you'll all survive if this blog disappears. I don't exactly have a lot of readership. But it's a bummer. I get that my work computer does not belong to me, and that my employer owns my time when I'm there. I'm not confused about that. But I never once let a deadline slide so I could blog or said anything disparaging about my employer or otherwise abused the limited freedom I had by having access to Blogger. I've been reliable and efficient and effective. Think of it this way, instead of a smoke break, like all the smokers in the building, I took blog breaks. I spent far less time writing my blog a few times a week, than the smokers on my floor take by taking their 50 smoke breaks outside every day. Instead of worrying about blocking innocuous Web sites, why don't you crack down on the smokers who can't be found at their desks half the day? How about that?
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
I'm crushing your head!
Is it really only Tuesday? Man. At times, it feels like time is screaming by at warp speed. Other times, I'm caught in a vacuum where clocks don't tick.
I bought some new headphones for my computer at work. They're great sound-wise. I barely have to put the volume on at all and I get ground sound. But good Lord, they're like a vice around my head. My ears actually ache after only wearing them a short time. And I have a small head! I'm like Beetlejuice! If I can barely stand to wear them, how do people with normal craniums stand it? The manufacturer must have done no product testing whatsoever.
So, several people have asked me about the fish tattooing thing I posted last week. I had time to find a link about it. I originally saw it on a local newscast here in Austin, but this story from the UK gives you the skinny. The say it doesn't hurt the fish, but I don't know - it just doesn't seem like something we need to be doing.
Busy Mom confessed earlier a few days ago to a fascination with celebrity gossip. A hearty, "Me too!" says me. I am, indeed, fascinated with the lives of the rich and famous. And not just the People magazine/E! True Hollywood Story variety gossip, though I'm on board with that, too. I'm also a long-time fan of the Biography channel, and I have a whole shelf of my book case devoted to biographies (some of it is true crime, but whatever - it's non-fiction!). It doesn't have to be scandalous to interest me - just unusual, meaning different from my ordinary existence. I really am fascinated by people's lives. And if you already have an affinity for people's stories, how can you not be drawn to such unusual lives as those of celebrities? I can't help it. It's a world totally different from the one I live in, and I find that intriguing. Anyway, a pat on the back to Busy Mom for not being afraid to let her celebrity gossip-hound flag fly, baby, fly!
I bought some new headphones for my computer at work. They're great sound-wise. I barely have to put the volume on at all and I get ground sound. But good Lord, they're like a vice around my head. My ears actually ache after only wearing them a short time. And I have a small head! I'm like Beetlejuice! If I can barely stand to wear them, how do people with normal craniums stand it? The manufacturer must have done no product testing whatsoever.
So, several people have asked me about the fish tattooing thing I posted last week. I had time to find a link about it. I originally saw it on a local newscast here in Austin, but this story from the UK gives you the skinny. The say it doesn't hurt the fish, but I don't know - it just doesn't seem like something we need to be doing.
Busy Mom confessed earlier a few days ago to a fascination with celebrity gossip. A hearty, "Me too!" says me. I am, indeed, fascinated with the lives of the rich and famous. And not just the People magazine/E! True Hollywood Story variety gossip, though I'm on board with that, too. I'm also a long-time fan of the Biography channel, and I have a whole shelf of my book case devoted to biographies (some of it is true crime, but whatever - it's non-fiction!). It doesn't have to be scandalous to interest me - just unusual, meaning different from my ordinary existence. I really am fascinated by people's lives. And if you already have an affinity for people's stories, how can you not be drawn to such unusual lives as those of celebrities? I can't help it. It's a world totally different from the one I live in, and I find that intriguing. Anyway, a pat on the back to Busy Mom for not being afraid to let her celebrity gossip-hound flag fly, baby, fly!
Monday, February 12, 2007
If your body is a temple, mop regularly.
The human body is an amazing thing. Truly it is. It can be athletic, comforting, strong, complicated. It can be beautiful, flexible, resilient. It can create new life. It can also create a stench unlike anything God could have intended.
Today at lunch, I went to the library in search of a book I'm supposed to be reading for my book club (book club is next Sunday, and I'm unlikely to finish this book in only two weeks - I'm painfully slow to get through books. But I'll try.). I try to go to the big central library downtown when I can, but this book was only available at a couple of the satellite locations. So, I found the nearest one and traveled there on my lunch hour.
The branch I went to is small. Very small. It's in a strip mall, and I'm surprised they have enough space to stock enough books to justify the branch. But the book I wanted was there, so they at least had that one on one of their two shelves. Anyway, I walk into branch, my head down, looking at my piece of paper with the book's call number on it so I'd know which shelf to go to, and I was met with the most rank odor imaginable. Skunks would have run.
I knew immediately this was human stink, and I jerked my head up to see if some homeless guy was standing directly in front of me, and to my surprise, there was no one within 10 feet of me, except the librarian, who had clearly showered this morning. I shifted my gaze to the left and there sat two men reading. It's hard to say if they were homeless, but it's likely. One was an older guy, maybe in his 50s, and he had a big backpack on the table in front of him - always a give away. The other guy was younger, in his 20s, with massive dreadlocks.
The dreds tell you right off this person's hygeine is questionable - it means that this is not someone who washes his hair every day. And trust me, unless you're 5 or 75, you need to wash your hair everyday. And your body. And you need to apply deodorant under your arms. This ain't France. But just because said 20-something had dreds, that doesn't mean he's homeless. He could just be...natural (because matting your hair into something that has to be cut away when you're finally tired of Bob Marley and you'd like a paycheck from somewhere not a sandwich shop is...natural). It's entirely possible, though.
All I can tell you is that the ungodly funk produced by one or both of these men permeated the entire room. I bustled myself to the shelf I needed, grabbed the book I'd come for and rushed to the check-out desk. I couldn't get outside fast enough to breathe fresh air. I didn't even put my wallet away before fleeing the library branch, and that was not safe, considering the neighborhood. But hey - it was either take my chances outside, or pass out inside, in which case the homeless guys can steal my wallet anyway.
My one question as I retreated to the safety and freshness of my car was this: How do the librarians stand it? I gotta tell you, human compassion aside, I just couldn't work some place that smelled that rank. I couldn't do it. I'm sorry that people are homeless. I can only imagine how rough of a life that is. But this isn't a rant about the condition of homelessness or homelessness programs or anything of the kind. In fact, I'm being generous even assuming that the Funkmasters were homeless. If you're homeless, showering may not be a daily option. For all I know, these guys could have homes and showers, but they simply elect not to use them. Dreds guy could be making some kind of social statement!
I don't know. All I know is that Stinky McFoul was emanating some oooooodor. And for Miss Raised in the Suburbs and Feelin' Good About It over here, it was toe-curling.
Today at lunch, I went to the library in search of a book I'm supposed to be reading for my book club (book club is next Sunday, and I'm unlikely to finish this book in only two weeks - I'm painfully slow to get through books. But I'll try.). I try to go to the big central library downtown when I can, but this book was only available at a couple of the satellite locations. So, I found the nearest one and traveled there on my lunch hour.
The branch I went to is small. Very small. It's in a strip mall, and I'm surprised they have enough space to stock enough books to justify the branch. But the book I wanted was there, so they at least had that one on one of their two shelves. Anyway, I walk into branch, my head down, looking at my piece of paper with the book's call number on it so I'd know which shelf to go to, and I was met with the most rank odor imaginable. Skunks would have run.
I knew immediately this was human stink, and I jerked my head up to see if some homeless guy was standing directly in front of me, and to my surprise, there was no one within 10 feet of me, except the librarian, who had clearly showered this morning. I shifted my gaze to the left and there sat two men reading. It's hard to say if they were homeless, but it's likely. One was an older guy, maybe in his 50s, and he had a big backpack on the table in front of him - always a give away. The other guy was younger, in his 20s, with massive dreadlocks.
The dreds tell you right off this person's hygeine is questionable - it means that this is not someone who washes his hair every day. And trust me, unless you're 5 or 75, you need to wash your hair everyday. And your body. And you need to apply deodorant under your arms. This ain't France. But just because said 20-something had dreds, that doesn't mean he's homeless. He could just be...natural (because matting your hair into something that has to be cut away when you're finally tired of Bob Marley and you'd like a paycheck from somewhere not a sandwich shop is...natural). It's entirely possible, though.
All I can tell you is that the ungodly funk produced by one or both of these men permeated the entire room. I bustled myself to the shelf I needed, grabbed the book I'd come for and rushed to the check-out desk. I couldn't get outside fast enough to breathe fresh air. I didn't even put my wallet away before fleeing the library branch, and that was not safe, considering the neighborhood. But hey - it was either take my chances outside, or pass out inside, in which case the homeless guys can steal my wallet anyway.
My one question as I retreated to the safety and freshness of my car was this: How do the librarians stand it? I gotta tell you, human compassion aside, I just couldn't work some place that smelled that rank. I couldn't do it. I'm sorry that people are homeless. I can only imagine how rough of a life that is. But this isn't a rant about the condition of homelessness or homelessness programs or anything of the kind. In fact, I'm being generous even assuming that the Funkmasters were homeless. If you're homeless, showering may not be a daily option. For all I know, these guys could have homes and showers, but they simply elect not to use them. Dreds guy could be making some kind of social statement!
I don't know. All I know is that Stinky McFoul was emanating some oooooodor. And for Miss Raised in the Suburbs and Feelin' Good About It over here, it was toe-curling.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Love is a messy thang.
Back home today. I was sad to leave the fam yesterday. I enjoy being with them, and it was great getting to take my nephew to school and pick him up in the afternoon. I can see why moms like to be able to do that. It's awesome to get that chance to hear about their day while it's still fresh.
Also fresh while I was there was the story about the astronaut love triangle. There's nothing like being where the story is local to get the whole story as every detail breaks, 24-7! The talk radio shows were really buzzing about it. I didn't hear too much of the talk radio stuff since I wasn't in the car as much as I usually am, but I did hear one guy when I was waiting to pick up my nephew on Monday that cracked me up. He basically said that this whole thing could have been avoided if all the married people wouldn't cheat and the single people wouldn't involve themselves with the married people. Here was his best quote:
"You know where cheating gets you? An astronaut in a diaper coming at you with a mallet and a rubber hose. That's where." Love it.
I'm not sure anyone really knows yet what really happened. At first, everyone assumed the lady astronaut had an affair with the single, male astronaut, then got jealous because he had another lady luv. But then it turns out that lady astronaut was already separated, and there's some question that there was even an affair with male astronaut. She might've just taken a good friendship or a flirtation for something more than it was. Would THAT be a blip? I don't know that I'll get as much news about it now that I'm not in Houston anymore, but I will be very curious to hear what was really going on.
Alot of people were stunned that someone so smart and accomplished could do something so nutty, but I've got news for you. It doesn't matter whether you're stupid or smart, accomplished or stuck in a rut, nice or mean, married or single, yadda, yadda, affairs of the heart can turn you into a lunatic. That's just it. Humans are humans, and the love stuff taps into our baser instincts - into the primal stuff that's ruled by emotions - the heart not the head. No amount of math or science education, political success or money in the bank changes that. Too bad this lady just blew everything she's worked for.
Also fresh while I was there was the story about the astronaut love triangle. There's nothing like being where the story is local to get the whole story as every detail breaks, 24-7! The talk radio shows were really buzzing about it. I didn't hear too much of the talk radio stuff since I wasn't in the car as much as I usually am, but I did hear one guy when I was waiting to pick up my nephew on Monday that cracked me up. He basically said that this whole thing could have been avoided if all the married people wouldn't cheat and the single people wouldn't involve themselves with the married people. Here was his best quote:
"You know where cheating gets you? An astronaut in a diaper coming at you with a mallet and a rubber hose. That's where." Love it.
I'm not sure anyone really knows yet what really happened. At first, everyone assumed the lady astronaut had an affair with the single, male astronaut, then got jealous because he had another lady luv. But then it turns out that lady astronaut was already separated, and there's some question that there was even an affair with male astronaut. She might've just taken a good friendship or a flirtation for something more than it was. Would THAT be a blip? I don't know that I'll get as much news about it now that I'm not in Houston anymore, but I will be very curious to hear what was really going on.
Alot of people were stunned that someone so smart and accomplished could do something so nutty, but I've got news for you. It doesn't matter whether you're stupid or smart, accomplished or stuck in a rut, nice or mean, married or single, yadda, yadda, affairs of the heart can turn you into a lunatic. That's just it. Humans are humans, and the love stuff taps into our baser instincts - into the primal stuff that's ruled by emotions - the heart not the head. No amount of math or science education, political success or money in the bank changes that. Too bad this lady just blew everything she's worked for.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Taxes and perversion.
It's a nice day here in the neighborhood. The weather is nice - sunny with a high in the upper 60s. I'm not at work. I'm getting to hang with my family. Weekday television can be a challenge, though.
Aside from the usual hideousness of the Maury type shows that permeate daytime television, there's an abundance of local commercials. I think we all know that it's the rare local commercial that isn't cringe-inducing. The mattress, cheap furniture and car dealership ones are the worst offenders. Oh, and ambulance-chaser lawyers. Them, too.
Today I saw one for a tax guy, and as his Web site address came across the screen, I thought to myself, "Am I the only one that sees this?" The address is: www.IRSexpert.com (I'm not making it a live link, because I don't think I can be a party to bringing this guy more business). With the caps in place, the offense of this Web address may not immediately stand out. But look at it in all small letters: www.irsexpert.com.
You see it, don't you? Let's change the capping: www.IRsexpert.com. I-R-sexpert.The question is, did the guy do that on purpose, making him a perv, or did he do it on accident, making him kind of an idiot? I say "kind of" an idiot because I'll give him that perhaps he was so focused on his expertise with the IRS that he wasn't noticing that his address could be read some other way. I think that's giving him a wide berth, though, considering he's doing daytime TV ads. I think it's entirely possible he's doing some kind of subconscious Freudian thing to try and appeal to people. So, he's a perv AND he's manipulating weak minds. Nice.
I'll stick with Turbotax.
Aside from the usual hideousness of the Maury type shows that permeate daytime television, there's an abundance of local commercials. I think we all know that it's the rare local commercial that isn't cringe-inducing. The mattress, cheap furniture and car dealership ones are the worst offenders. Oh, and ambulance-chaser lawyers. Them, too.
Today I saw one for a tax guy, and as his Web site address came across the screen, I thought to myself, "Am I the only one that sees this?" The address is: www.IRSexpert.com (I'm not making it a live link, because I don't think I can be a party to bringing this guy more business). With the caps in place, the offense of this Web address may not immediately stand out. But look at it in all small letters: www.irsexpert.com.
You see it, don't you? Let's change the capping: www.IRsexpert.com. I-R-sexpert.The question is, did the guy do that on purpose, making him a perv, or did he do it on accident, making him kind of an idiot? I say "kind of" an idiot because I'll give him that perhaps he was so focused on his expertise with the IRS that he wasn't noticing that his address could be read some other way. I think that's giving him a wide berth, though, considering he's doing daytime TV ads. I think it's entirely possible he's doing some kind of subconscious Freudian thing to try and appeal to people. So, he's a perv AND he's manipulating weak minds. Nice.
I'll stick with Turbotax.
Monday, February 05, 2007
You're welcome, Payton.
Yay! Payton Manning won! Oh, wait, I guess I'm supposed to say that the Colts won. Well, I like to think that my support of Payton helped in his...their victory. I'm sure he checks my blog.
So far all is well here in Houston-town. I have discovered one truth that I find painful, though. You know how you hear that your reflexes slow down as you get older? I thought that meant when you were like 70. Perhaps you should reconsider driving or drive slower or something to compensate. Apparently, it starts a lot sooner - like in your 30s. And the way you know isn't from your driving. It's in trying to play a Playstation game with your nephew, and you can't do jack, and he's racking up points and going from level to level and just generally eating your lunch.
I've said before that I don't play video games. I intend to continue not playing them.
Okay - off to go be the world's greatest aunt. Have a great Monday!
So far all is well here in Houston-town. I have discovered one truth that I find painful, though. You know how you hear that your reflexes slow down as you get older? I thought that meant when you were like 70. Perhaps you should reconsider driving or drive slower or something to compensate. Apparently, it starts a lot sooner - like in your 30s. And the way you know isn't from your driving. It's in trying to play a Playstation game with your nephew, and you can't do jack, and he's racking up points and going from level to level and just generally eating your lunch.
I've said before that I don't play video games. I intend to continue not playing them.
Okay - off to go be the world's greatest aunt. Have a great Monday!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Florence Nightengale
I'm headed to Ho-town this morning. I'm going to help my sister-in-law as she recovers from surgery. I'm very happy to do this. I just hope there are no actual emergencies or she may be wishing I weren't there, since mostly my nursing abilities consist of calling my mother in a panic and asking what to do.
I'm not sure how much time I'll have to blog, since part of my "job" the next several days will be taking care of my brother's kids, but I'm going to try and steal some time here and there. To distract you from missing my posts, though, I'll give you a few things to think about.
1. Kevin Federline is apologizing to fast food workers he may have offended with his Nationwide commercial. Is he apologizing for suggesting that working fast food is a step down from being a rock star - that they aren't living the American dream (because God knows that when we're children, we all hope to work for minimum wage in front of a fryer for the rest of our lives), or he is apologizing for suggesting that he could actually do that job and that fast food workers are, in some way, like him? I think that's an important distinction.
2. Angela and I had a discussion last night about how to account for time away from your job used to care for your pets - as in you have to take them to the vet for an illness. If you're the parent of human children, there's no question: you use sick time. But if your "children" are pets, some places expect you to use vacation time. That's garbage. For those of us without children, and maybe many of you with children, our pets are as much a part of our family as anyone else. And they have medical emergencies, just like people. If I were at the lake, that would be "vacation" away from work. But if I'm taking a sick pet to the vet, that's not "vacation." I'm handling a medical issue for a living, breathing, feeling creature I'm responsible for. There shouldn't be a question how I account for that time - it's sick time, just as it would be for myself or anyone else in my household that I'm providing medical assistance to.
3. They're tattooing fish now. I'm not kidding. I don't have time to find a link to a news story about this, but I saw it on the morning news here in Austin this morning. If I didn't have to log off of here right now and get the hell on the road to Houston, I'd rant about this. But I do, in fact, have to log off right now and get outta here. So, I'll leave it to you, the readers, to rant in the comment section.
Have a great Saturday!
I'm not sure how much time I'll have to blog, since part of my "job" the next several days will be taking care of my brother's kids, but I'm going to try and steal some time here and there. To distract you from missing my posts, though, I'll give you a few things to think about.
1. Kevin Federline is apologizing to fast food workers he may have offended with his Nationwide commercial. Is he apologizing for suggesting that working fast food is a step down from being a rock star - that they aren't living the American dream (because God knows that when we're children, we all hope to work for minimum wage in front of a fryer for the rest of our lives), or he is apologizing for suggesting that he could actually do that job and that fast food workers are, in some way, like him? I think that's an important distinction.
2. Angela and I had a discussion last night about how to account for time away from your job used to care for your pets - as in you have to take them to the vet for an illness. If you're the parent of human children, there's no question: you use sick time. But if your "children" are pets, some places expect you to use vacation time. That's garbage. For those of us without children, and maybe many of you with children, our pets are as much a part of our family as anyone else. And they have medical emergencies, just like people. If I were at the lake, that would be "vacation" away from work. But if I'm taking a sick pet to the vet, that's not "vacation." I'm handling a medical issue for a living, breathing, feeling creature I'm responsible for. There shouldn't be a question how I account for that time - it's sick time, just as it would be for myself or anyone else in my household that I'm providing medical assistance to.
3. They're tattooing fish now. I'm not kidding. I don't have time to find a link to a news story about this, but I saw it on the morning news here in Austin this morning. If I didn't have to log off of here right now and get the hell on the road to Houston, I'd rant about this. But I do, in fact, have to log off right now and get outta here. So, I'll leave it to you, the readers, to rant in the comment section.
Have a great Saturday!
Friday, February 02, 2007
Groundhog Day! Is that Bill Murray?
Well, it's all good now. All of you who have been suffering from terrible ice storms and record snowfall can relax. Punxsutawney Phil didn't see his shadow, so it's an early spring! Yay! Thank heaven for cute, furry rodents - otherwise we wouldn't know WHAT's going on.
Speaking of not knowing what's going on, did you hear about the fiasco in Boston? The Cartoon Network has some show called "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" apparently. I say "apparently" because I wouldn't know. I avoid anything with the word "teen" in it like the plague. Well, Turner Broadcasting System, the parent company, decided to do some kind of marketing campaign for this show, and the campaign included putting up a bunch of signs in 9 cities around the country "displaying a profane, boxy-looking cartoon character" (as USA Today put it). In Boston, "Officials found 38 blinking electronic signs on bridges, a subway station, a hospital, Fenway Park, and other high-profile spots in and around the city."
Well, apparently, TBS didn't think to get permission from the cities they targeted - or if you shun authority because developmentally you've never progressed past adolescent rebellion, then I'll say they didn't "notify" the cities they targeted. It didn't matter much in 8 of the cities, but in Boston, city officials freaked out, shutting down areas where the signs were until they could verify that that's all they were - simple advertising signs.
Well, you know what? Good for them. I haven't seen the signs - I don't know what they look like and if there's anything that makes them look questionable compared to the neon signs in the local bar, but for chrissake, this is city from where the f-ing 9/11 hijackers launched their attacks. They boarded the planes in BOSTON, you morons at TBS. Do you not think that city might be on heightened alert about unauthorized electronic devices popping up on infrastructure around the city - places that have been the targets of terrorist attacks in other cities? Are you that friggin' clueless?
Some of the "fans" of the show, which I'm sure is just riveting, went on record saying how it was "silly and insane" the way Boston reacted and gee, in Seattle, where the signs didn't cause a stir, people are just more laid back. Well, when Seattle gets blown up by terrorists sneaking over the Canadian border, maybe they'll feel less laid back about unexpected electronic devices popping up on their bridges. Try this little stunt in London and see where it gets you. Maybe it was obviously a sign and nothing more. Maybe if I saw one, I'd also wonder what about the sign made the city nervous. Maybe I'd change my mind and totally agree that they went beserk for no reason. But the fact that the city DID feel immediately concerned makes me think there was *something* that didn't seem right. But honestly, even if they do seem like regular, lighted signs, I still get why the city was worried, considering where they were placed, with no authorization. These weren't paper posters. We're talking about activated, electronic devices that were put on high-profile infrastructure without the city knowing about them. That's a really stupid thing to do. Just plain stupid.
TBS is, to their credit, apologetic. The executives there seem to get it. Too bad their viewers and some of the "young, hip" idiots USA Today interviewed in Boston don't. Why am I guessing that if these marketing signs HAD been bombs, these idiots would be the first ones screaming at their government for not protecting them and lining up for an assistance check?
Before you harangue the city for trying to keep its citizens safe, I give you just ONE thing to think about. The next time you're on a bridge or a subway or a plane, and you see some unexpected, unapproved, unmanned out-of-place electronic device, wired, possibly blinking and activated, maybe looks like a sign but clearly isn't supposed to be there, ask yourself if you *really* want the officials entrusted with your safety to just ignore it and assume it's part of a marketing campaign they know nothing about. Better yet, ask yourself the same question if it's your child or your spouse entering that subway. Just a thought.
Speaking of not knowing what's going on, did you hear about the fiasco in Boston? The Cartoon Network has some show called "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" apparently. I say "apparently" because I wouldn't know. I avoid anything with the word "teen" in it like the plague. Well, Turner Broadcasting System, the parent company, decided to do some kind of marketing campaign for this show, and the campaign included putting up a bunch of signs in 9 cities around the country "displaying a profane, boxy-looking cartoon character" (as USA Today put it). In Boston, "Officials found 38 blinking electronic signs on bridges, a subway station, a hospital, Fenway Park, and other high-profile spots in and around the city."
Well, apparently, TBS didn't think to get permission from the cities they targeted - or if you shun authority because developmentally you've never progressed past adolescent rebellion, then I'll say they didn't "notify" the cities they targeted. It didn't matter much in 8 of the cities, but in Boston, city officials freaked out, shutting down areas where the signs were until they could verify that that's all they were - simple advertising signs.
Well, you know what? Good for them. I haven't seen the signs - I don't know what they look like and if there's anything that makes them look questionable compared to the neon signs in the local bar, but for chrissake, this is city from where the f-ing 9/11 hijackers launched their attacks. They boarded the planes in BOSTON, you morons at TBS. Do you not think that city might be on heightened alert about unauthorized electronic devices popping up on infrastructure around the city - places that have been the targets of terrorist attacks in other cities? Are you that friggin' clueless?
Some of the "fans" of the show, which I'm sure is just riveting, went on record saying how it was "silly and insane" the way Boston reacted and gee, in Seattle, where the signs didn't cause a stir, people are just more laid back. Well, when Seattle gets blown up by terrorists sneaking over the Canadian border, maybe they'll feel less laid back about unexpected electronic devices popping up on their bridges. Try this little stunt in London and see where it gets you. Maybe it was obviously a sign and nothing more. Maybe if I saw one, I'd also wonder what about the sign made the city nervous. Maybe I'd change my mind and totally agree that they went beserk for no reason. But the fact that the city DID feel immediately concerned makes me think there was *something* that didn't seem right. But honestly, even if they do seem like regular, lighted signs, I still get why the city was worried, considering where they were placed, with no authorization. These weren't paper posters. We're talking about activated, electronic devices that were put on high-profile infrastructure without the city knowing about them. That's a really stupid thing to do. Just plain stupid.
TBS is, to their credit, apologetic. The executives there seem to get it. Too bad their viewers and some of the "young, hip" idiots USA Today interviewed in Boston don't. Why am I guessing that if these marketing signs HAD been bombs, these idiots would be the first ones screaming at their government for not protecting them and lining up for an assistance check?
Before you harangue the city for trying to keep its citizens safe, I give you just ONE thing to think about. The next time you're on a bridge or a subway or a plane, and you see some unexpected, unapproved, unmanned out-of-place electronic device, wired, possibly blinking and activated, maybe looks like a sign but clearly isn't supposed to be there, ask yourself if you *really* want the officials entrusted with your safety to just ignore it and assume it's part of a marketing campaign they know nothing about. Better yet, ask yourself the same question if it's your child or your spouse entering that subway. Just a thought.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
The man holdin' me hostage.
It's February 1. That means several things. First, payday: WOOHOO! Second, pay bills: boo. Third, I can officially get annoyed now that I haven't received my W-2 from my part-time job. I believe the deadline to mail them out was January 31, which was yesterday, which means at 12:01 a.m. this morning I could start complaining.
See, I'm still poor enough that (a) I do my own taxes (with TurboTax, though - I'm not so poor that I'm still using the 1040EZ form...progress); (b) I'm still working my part-time job (though I'm admittedly working fewer hours than ever before); and (c) I get a refund.
Point (c) means I like to do my taxes as early as possible, so I can get MY money (which the government has picked from my pocket throughout the year) as fast as possible. But I can't do my taxes until I have all of my documentation. And as of right now, I am missing a vital document - my other W-2! My regular job managed to get me one. And my mortgage companies (I have two) managed to get my mortgage interest statements. So on. So forth. But no part-time W-2. And so the government gets to continue to hold on to my money until employer #2 gets their shit together. Rat bastards.
But just in case the IRS reads my blog, I appreciate all that you do to make sure this great country gets all that it's owed. Really. Mean it. Call me! (No, don't call me - there's just no scenario where that would be a good thing.)
P.S. One more thing in this time of income, tax credits and deductions. For those of us who give to charity, because we're good people, then get inundated with requests from charities we know nothing about, here is a great resource for learning about how charities stack up against one another: Charity Navigator. These folks review charities, telling you who they are and what they do and breaking down how they spend the money the take in. They even tell you what they pay their executive officer and they give overall ratings in two formats - a star rating (1-4) and a number rating. So, if you've got 5 requests from similar organizations, and you don't know which one(s) to give money to, Charity Navigator can help you decide who will do the best job spending the money you give them.
See, I'm still poor enough that (a) I do my own taxes (with TurboTax, though - I'm not so poor that I'm still using the 1040EZ form...progress); (b) I'm still working my part-time job (though I'm admittedly working fewer hours than ever before); and (c) I get a refund.
Point (c) means I like to do my taxes as early as possible, so I can get MY money (which the government has picked from my pocket throughout the year) as fast as possible. But I can't do my taxes until I have all of my documentation. And as of right now, I am missing a vital document - my other W-2! My regular job managed to get me one. And my mortgage companies (I have two) managed to get my mortgage interest statements. So on. So forth. But no part-time W-2. And so the government gets to continue to hold on to my money until employer #2 gets their shit together. Rat bastards.
But just in case the IRS reads my blog, I appreciate all that you do to make sure this great country gets all that it's owed. Really. Mean it. Call me! (No, don't call me - there's just no scenario where that would be a good thing.)
P.S. One more thing in this time of income, tax credits and deductions. For those of us who give to charity, because we're good people, then get inundated with requests from charities we know nothing about, here is a great resource for learning about how charities stack up against one another: Charity Navigator. These folks review charities, telling you who they are and what they do and breaking down how they spend the money the take in. They even tell you what they pay their executive officer and they give overall ratings in two formats - a star rating (1-4) and a number rating. So, if you've got 5 requests from similar organizations, and you don't know which one(s) to give money to, Charity Navigator can help you decide who will do the best job spending the money you give them.
The man holdin' me hostage.
It's February 1. That means several things. First, payday: WOOHOO! Second, pay bills: boo. Third, I can officially get annoyed now that I haven't received my W-2 from my part-time job. I believe the deadline to mail them out was January 31, which was yesterday, which means at 12:01 a.m. this morning I could start complaining.
See, I'm still poor enough that (a) I do my own taxes (with TurboTax, though - I'm not so poor that I'm still using the 1040EZ form...progress); (b) I'm still working my part-time job (though I'm admittedly working fewer hours than ever before); and (c) I get a refund.
Point (c) means I like to do my taxes as early as possible, so I can get MY money (which the government has picked from my pocket throughout the year) as fast as possible. But I can't do my taxes until I have all of my documentation. And as of right now, I am missing a vital document - my other W-2! My regular job managed to get me one. And my mortgage companies (I have two) managed to get my mortgage interest statements. So on. So forth. But no part-time W-2. And so the government gets to continue to hold on to my money until employer #2 gets their shit together. Rat bastards.
But just in case the IRS reads my blog, I appreciate all that you do to make sure this great country gets all that it's owed. Really. Mean it. Call me! (No, don't call me - there's just no scenario where that would be a good thing.)
See, I'm still poor enough that (a) I do my own taxes (with TurboTax, though - I'm not so poor that I'm still using the 1040EZ form...progress); (b) I'm still working my part-time job (though I'm admittedly working fewer hours than ever before); and (c) I get a refund.
Point (c) means I like to do my taxes as early as possible, so I can get MY money (which the government has picked from my pocket throughout the year) as fast as possible. But I can't do my taxes until I have all of my documentation. And as of right now, I am missing a vital document - my other W-2! My regular job managed to get me one. And my mortgage companies (I have two) managed to get my mortgage interest statements. So on. So forth. But no part-time W-2. And so the government gets to continue to hold on to my money until employer #2 gets their shit together. Rat bastards.
But just in case the IRS reads my blog, I appreciate all that you do to make sure this great country gets all that it's owed. Really. Mean it. Call me! (No, don't call me - there's just no scenario where that would be a good thing.)
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