21 November 2007
17 November 2007
Addiction
A little over a month ago, my Sirius satellite receiver up & died on me. I called 'em up and went through the obligatory troubleshooting with the heavily accented dude. He ultimately told me to have the shop remove the offending POS from the Nissan while they sent me a replacement.
The first day without it was just wrong. How do the radio stations get away with the, the ... PULP that they pump out every morning? Add to that the flat-out terrible reception that my stereo gets with the in-the-rear-window antenna on the Nissan, keeping me from being able to listen to either of the two stations here that do actually play some music in the mornings, and the drive is more easily made with no tunes at all.
Hours went by, stretching into days. Before I knew it, a week had passed and no new receiver. I called them and they advised that their shipment was stuck in customs.
I can now imagine what some crack head goes through when his pusher says, "Sorry man, ain't got nuffin today on accounta them suits downtown needing my entire stock for their IPO party..."
Suffice it to say, that was not the answer I wanted to hear. I started having tremors when the full meaning of what I was being told sunk in.
"Wait, you're saying they're, like, STUCK? Somewhere? Uh, so could you maybe tell me where that is? ... Oh, no reason. Ju- Just curious. Seattle? Well shit, I can't drive there. I've got work tomorrow. INEEDMYDAMNFIXMAAAAAAAN!!"
Then came the call (yes, they actually called me to let me know); The shipment was expected to be delivered the end of the week... when I would be out of town. Friggin sadists, I tell you! After some more talking (trying to explain why I reallyreallyREALLY needed that delivery before I left because, uh, my neighbors would do something with it if it was just left) they finally saw reason & set my replacement to be sent overnight once they get to their distribution center. They estimate it will arrive on the day I'm getting on a plane.
-twitch-
So the next morning I get an e-mail with the FedEx tracking number (did I TELL you they were sadists?!?) and immediately go to the webbery to see where my precious is right then. Oh good, Cincinnati.
Wait, what?? It was held by customs in Seattle! What the hell, did they throw the damned thing too far?? -twitch-
It says it's scheduled for delivery by 10:30 the next morning. My flight is at three in the afternoon. Okay, that is plenty of time. I mean, right? Wouldn't you think so?
-twitch-
"Hey Sara! (she's my manager) I need to take a full day off tomorrow & not just a half, okay? There's, uh, something that came up. I think I chipped another tooth. Okay?" Isn't it amazing what excuses an addict will come up with ON THE SPOT like that? I mean, really, once I get the thing, all I'm going to do is put it in my house and then have it installed when I get home.
The next morning I'm up at the usual time, 4:00am, a time commonly (and rightly) unknown to most people. Unless they're exiting the local pub of course. I can't stand admitting this, but I really did check the front porch for any boxes laying out there before hopping in the shower. FOUR in the morning, people. On a day off. Something is wrong with me. (yay, step one complete) -twitch-
With my shower done, I eat breakfast while watching Early Today (yes, there is an "early" edition of the Today show, the show that is on for two hours longer than it needs to be by itself, in my never so humble opinion, but I digress) at a lower than normal volume in case there's a knock at the door. I play a little with Mario the Wonder Kitty, and even he is looking at me like, "What the fuck are you doing up, huh?" I hop online and look at some of the rest of the news, check the weather at my destination, go through the suitcase to make sure everything I need is there, aaaaaaaaand then I check FedEx. "Arrived at station" it tells me. I hit F5. You know, just in case.
If their web site were a tad smarter, it could have slammed me with, "What? You didn't believe me before asshole? I told you ARRIVED AT STATION. Don't make me add a weather delay in, bub!" So at 4:05 I peek out the front door again...
Okay, yeah. That's blatant exaggeration. Instead, I did go lay down again. I didn't go back to sleep, of course. Oh no. I could FEEL it, a mere ZIP code or three away from me where I lay. Likely tossed carelessly in some corner of the warehouse. Savages. I read the magazines that came in recently to try to take my mind off of that nightmare. I vacuumed. I washed dishes. All that schtuff. Ya know when my precious showed up? 10:23am. Not crushed beyond recognition. Not weeping from its abuse (being inanimate helps, I suppose). I make the drive, still Sirius-less, to the airport. That was a rough drive.
So I get back from a great time in Texas and have the car shop reinstall the box in whatever secret cubby hole in the dash they had the old one, and drive home listening to their generic always-on channel that spews out weather and the 800# to call to have my receiver activated. Yes, I did. It was amazing, and it wasn't even music. IT LIVES!
So I get home after the trip, and gather my various numbers (account number, old radio ID, new radio ID, and that 800#). I call, and they ask me for the phone number that's on my account. This is where having phone number changes over the past year is a bit of a liability. My rush of musical bliss was being delayed because I've had three phone numbers in the past year. Did I give them the land line that I never answered? The old cell number that was changed when the new cell came? Crap! I have all these other numbers, dammit! Happily, I remembered the right one and enter the hell that is Automated Phone Support. Those automated lines with the pleasant lady that recognizes your voice commands so long as you have no accent whatsoever. "Would you like to continue in English? Say yes to proceed." Those kinds. I reply, "Yes" and get the voice saying "I'm sorry, I didn't get that. Did you say 'mustard'?"
Anyway, I zero out of that and get Frank on the phone. No, his name isn't Frank. You know this. I know this. He knows this. We play his game because I just want my damned Area 33 as soon as possible, okay? -twitch-
"Frank, bud, listen carefully. The receiver is installed, the radio is on and tuned to 148, and I have the radio ID here. You ready for it? Because it's starting now," and I belt that 12-digit bastard out as clearly as I can between the tremors.
"I'm sorree, I didn't get dat. Did jou say 'moostard'?" ...so much for cutting through their scripted replies. We go through the usual. Yes, it's on. Yes I hear the broadcast (can't you? I'm in the car with the weather report being recited right now fer chrisssakes!). Yup, you've got the right ID number for the radio and we just confirmed my street address (thank God I didn't change THAT recently!) and secret handshake. "Hokaee, de tranzmishun iz beink sent now, and shood arrife widin 30 second or fife meenut." I swear, I don't know what country they sent me to this time, but it's apparently a new one. I'm guessing Brazil or Chile.
I wipe my brow as I stare at the radio and it's taunting "12:14" time display. Frank is breathing heavy in the phone while we wait. This is not helpful, but I don't dare hang up with a truncated "kthanxbye" because then the tranzmishun wouldn't arrive. The display changes to "updating channels" as a chorus of angels sings out. My eyes tear up and I tell Frank that all is well with the world, no there's nothing else I need right now, yes I'll go online if I need any account information... Frank, I'd just like to be alone with my radio for a while, ya mind?
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH that's better.
The first day without it was just wrong. How do the radio stations get away with the, the ... PULP that they pump out every morning? Add to that the flat-out terrible reception that my stereo gets with the in-the-rear-window antenna on the Nissan, keeping me from being able to listen to either of the two stations here that do actually play some music in the mornings, and the drive is more easily made with no tunes at all.
Hours went by, stretching into days. Before I knew it, a week had passed and no new receiver. I called them and they advised that their shipment was stuck in customs.
I can now imagine what some crack head goes through when his pusher says, "Sorry man, ain't got nuffin today on accounta them suits downtown needing my entire stock for their IPO party..."
Suffice it to say, that was not the answer I wanted to hear. I started having tremors when the full meaning of what I was being told sunk in.
"Wait, you're saying they're, like, STUCK? Somewhere? Uh, so could you maybe tell me where that is? ... Oh, no reason. Ju- Just curious. Seattle? Well shit, I can't drive there. I've got work tomorrow. INEEDMYDAMNFIXMAAAAAAAN!!"
Then came the call (yes, they actually called me to let me know); The shipment was expected to be delivered the end of the week... when I would be out of town. Friggin sadists, I tell you! After some more talking (trying to explain why I reallyreallyREALLY needed that delivery before I left because, uh, my neighbors would do something with it if it was just left) they finally saw reason & set my replacement to be sent overnight once they get to their distribution center. They estimate it will arrive on the day I'm getting on a plane.
-twitch-
So the next morning I get an e-mail with the FedEx tracking number (did I TELL you they were sadists?!?) and immediately go to the webbery to see where my precious is right then. Oh good, Cincinnati.
Wait, what?? It was held by customs in Seattle! What the hell, did they throw the damned thing too far?? -twitch-
It says it's scheduled for delivery by 10:30 the next morning. My flight is at three in the afternoon. Okay, that is plenty of time. I mean, right? Wouldn't you think so?
-twitch-
"Hey Sara! (she's my manager) I need to take a full day off tomorrow & not just a half, okay? There's, uh, something that came up. I think I chipped another tooth. Okay?" Isn't it amazing what excuses an addict will come up with ON THE SPOT like that? I mean, really, once I get the thing, all I'm going to do is put it in my house and then have it installed when I get home.
The next morning I'm up at the usual time, 4:00am, a time commonly (and rightly) unknown to most people. Unless they're exiting the local pub of course. I can't stand admitting this, but I really did check the front porch for any boxes laying out there before hopping in the shower. FOUR in the morning, people. On a day off. Something is wrong with me. (yay, step one complete) -twitch-
With my shower done, I eat breakfast while watching Early Today (yes, there is an "early" edition of the Today show, the show that is on for two hours longer than it needs to be by itself, in my never so humble opinion, but I digress) at a lower than normal volume in case there's a knock at the door. I play a little with Mario the Wonder Kitty, and even he is looking at me like, "What the fuck are you doing up, huh?" I hop online and look at some of the rest of the news, check the weather at my destination, go through the suitcase to make sure everything I need is there, aaaaaaaaand then I check FedEx. "Arrived at station" it tells me. I hit F5. You know, just in case.
If their web site were a tad smarter, it could have slammed me with, "What? You didn't believe me before asshole? I told you ARRIVED AT STATION. Don't make me add a weather delay in, bub!" So at 4:05 I peek out the front door again...
Okay, yeah. That's blatant exaggeration. Instead, I did go lay down again. I didn't go back to sleep, of course. Oh no. I could FEEL it, a mere ZIP code or three away from me where I lay. Likely tossed carelessly in some corner of the warehouse. Savages. I read the magazines that came in recently to try to take my mind off of that nightmare. I vacuumed. I washed dishes. All that schtuff. Ya know when my precious showed up? 10:23am. Not crushed beyond recognition. Not weeping from its abuse (being inanimate helps, I suppose). I make the drive, still Sirius-less, to the airport. That was a rough drive.
So I get back from a great time in Texas and have the car shop reinstall the box in whatever secret cubby hole in the dash they had the old one, and drive home listening to their generic always-on channel that spews out weather and the 800# to call to have my receiver activated. Yes, I did. It was amazing, and it wasn't even music. IT LIVES!
So I get home after the trip, and gather my various numbers (account number, old radio ID, new radio ID, and that 800#). I call, and they ask me for the phone number that's on my account. This is where having phone number changes over the past year is a bit of a liability. My rush of musical bliss was being delayed because I've had three phone numbers in the past year. Did I give them the land line that I never answered? The old cell number that was changed when the new cell came? Crap! I have all these other numbers, dammit! Happily, I remembered the right one and enter the hell that is Automated Phone Support. Those automated lines with the pleasant lady that recognizes your voice commands so long as you have no accent whatsoever. "Would you like to continue in English? Say yes to proceed." Those kinds. I reply, "Yes" and get the voice saying "I'm sorry, I didn't get that. Did you say 'mustard'?"
Anyway, I zero out of that and get Frank on the phone. No, his name isn't Frank. You know this. I know this. He knows this. We play his game because I just want my damned Area 33 as soon as possible, okay? -twitch-
"Frank, bud, listen carefully. The receiver is installed, the radio is on and tuned to 148, and I have the radio ID here. You ready for it? Because it's starting now," and I belt that 12-digit bastard out as clearly as I can between the tremors.
"I'm sorree, I didn't get dat. Did jou say 'moostard'?" ...so much for cutting through their scripted replies. We go through the usual. Yes, it's on. Yes I hear the broadcast (can't you? I'm in the car with the weather report being recited right now fer chrisssakes!). Yup, you've got the right ID number for the radio and we just confirmed my street address (thank God I didn't change THAT recently!) and secret handshake. "Hokaee, de tranzmishun iz beink sent now, and shood arrife widin 30 second or fife meenut." I swear, I don't know what country they sent me to this time, but it's apparently a new one. I'm guessing Brazil or Chile.
I wipe my brow as I stare at the radio and it's taunting "12:14" time display. Frank is breathing heavy in the phone while we wait. This is not helpful, but I don't dare hang up with a truncated "kthanxbye" because then the tranzmishun wouldn't arrive. The display changes to "updating channels" as a chorus of angels sings out. My eyes tear up and I tell Frank that all is well with the world, no there's nothing else I need right now, yes I'll go online if I need any account information... Frank, I'd just like to be alone with my radio for a while, ya mind?
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH that's better.
24 October 2007
My Superpower
Some people laugh at my humor. Or they laugh at me, I don't bother to make the distinction any more... Some idle chat that made a friend laugh follows here. Caution: It's booger-type humor, so click back now if you ... eh, better click back anyway, just to be safe.
...
A brief discussion comparing current ailments. Of course when you're close friends, you arent' required to reply with the word "fine" to the question, "How're you doing there?"
me: I've only got some rubbery crap in my nose at the moment. It ought to clear up in a couple weeks.
Megadeth, Foreclosure Of a Dream
...
A brief discussion comparing current ailments. Of course when you're close friends, you arent' required to reply with the word "fine" to the question, "How're you doing there?"
me: I've only got some rubbery crap in my nose at the moment. It ought to clear up in a couple weeks.
they: you have rubber in your nose?
me: the snot up there doesn't want to budge. It was concrete in the morning & loosened up a little bit now. If I blow, I feel it move, but then it rebounds right back to where it started.
they: wow. that sounds like some kind of super hero power before you learn how to harness it
they: lol
me: hehehe... Stand back! I'll whip the vile villian with my SNOT!
me: --SNERK-kaPOW!-- "Ouch! Okay I give up!"
Megadeth, Foreclosure Of a Dream
15 October 2007
Oh good lord, he's back.
"The bum takes a fiscal quarter off & thinks he can just jump right back in, does he?"
Yup indeed. Ya know why? Because today is Blog Action Day, a day for bloggers to raise awareness of environmental issues. To find out more, visit the Blog Action Day website.
Ya know what I'm doing? Affixing this to my car. You're welcome.
Yup indeed. Ya know why? Because today is Blog Action Day, a day for bloggers to raise awareness of environmental issues. To find out more, visit the Blog Action Day website.
Ya know what I'm doing? Affixing this to my car. You're welcome.
14 June 2007
Part II on hiatus. Enjoy photos.
Okay, so being a bit sick here today kept me from doing anything with the written word, but here are some pretty things for you to look at.
Like I said, there were some 250 photos that were on my camera. These few were fairly representative of the visit. Enjoy:
Seattle & Vancouver
Rubber Planet, Super Glue
Like I said, there were some 250 photos that were on my camera. These few were fairly representative of the visit. Enjoy:
Seattle & Vancouver
Rubber Planet, Super Glue
13 June 2007
Vacation in Seattle and Vancouver, Part I
Woke up at the usual time of 4am, even though it was a Saturday. I had my air-fare covered by Jarvae's frequent-flyer miles. And you know how easy those are to use... Since all of the standard seats were taken, I had to be put up in business class. What a trip that was. I can't remember the last time I had a hot meal on a flight. I didn't think they existed any more. Yet there I sat, hot eggs with ham, English muffin and fruit staring me in the face for breakfast on the flight to Seattle (is that Smuckers jam too?). I'm glad I didn't stop for a McBreakfast now.
I could get used to this 'flying business class' stuff... Except for one minor detail: I was irritated at the toddler behind me. It amazed me; we were in business class with all this leg room, and the little bastard STILL had the reach to kick the back of my seat. He better get Gold in olympic running with a stride that far-reaching! Even with that minor annoyance, I couldn't help thinking that this was to be a really good weekend.
I sat next to a guy headed to Alaska for the rest of the month. Talking to this guy made me miss Montana some. He mentioned fishing up at Fire Hole, around the corner from Jackson Hole which is just down the road from where I was raised.* In a flash, I remembered trips to Canyon Ferry Dam to fish with my grandparents that would come up from Campbell, CA for a month or two in the fall on their way to Branson, Missouri for the season. Grandpa would mention how well he did this trip, only spending about $100/day to operate the motor home (with gas prices just over a dollar a gallon!). Catching the carp seemed to be my specialty, while he would catch and clean rainbow trout nearly as fast as he could cast the line in. I think I remember his method for cleaning 'em, too, in a way that negated needing to scale them. He ended up with a trout fillet that was ready for the grill only thirty seconds after biting the hook that caught it. Now THAT'S a fresh dinner.
So, landing a short time later, I met Jarvae at her gate and we went on to get the car. She insisted we keep thoughts of a red Impala in mind because she didn't want yet another rental car that was white. So, due entirely to all that mental chanting (and only perhaps because I put a word in with the rental car guy Brad) we left in a black Charger. When Brad told us this, I was thinking, "Fuckin-a, dude!" Let me just say now though, after several hours and 300+ miles driving it, that the driver seat ergonomics and rear visibility suck every ass out there, all with donkey dicks pounded in 'em. The head rest needs to be a rest people, NOT something that pushed my head forward as a six-foot tall line-backer's head would be pushed down in a five-foot tall phone booth. Even IF it "had a Hemi" in it, I would still have been well short of satisfied with that car.
As to the visit itself... Some mentioned possible "ulterior motives" (wink-nudge) for Jarvae so generously flying me over to see her for the weekend. At the hotel, the concierge checking us in says, "Well I see one person on the reservation, but two people here... Should I assume you don't need the twin double beds?" She says no. I think to myself, "Damn."
After checking in, it was a quick trip back down to Seattle for some wandering around. By then, it was maybe 7pm and much time was spent driving in circles in an unfamiliar city. It was almost a scouting trip to learn what we wanted to hit Monday morning: Space Needle of course, the music experience project / sci-fi museum that closed just as we stopped by there. That one souvenier shop just down from the Needle. Under NO circumstance were we going to stop at that McDonalds that we had passed some seven times! Many photos were taken. There was also the "is that a hard right, or a soft right I need to make?" question I had after being told to make the next left turn at the light as we headed back to the hotel. . . We stopped to have pizza (eh, good but not great), and called it a night around 10-ish.
The Embassy Suites kick serious ass. One thing we had mentioned as we checked in was our intent to head up to Canadia the next morning. Our helpful counter-dude (do they have an actual title?) tells us something ominous. Something called a Hands Across the Border Celebration was to shut down the border for five hours or so on Sunday, 11a-5p. Better be one helluva block party. I didn't even know what their "purpose" was, but with that heads-up we found an alternate route to cross.
Something I hear far too seldom: "Larry, you were right, I was wrong." Thank you dear. Doesn't matter what it was referring to. I'm recording it for posterity.
Sunday morning (after Jarvae had pulled an all-nighter on Friday) came maybe a little too soon. We both got a really good night sleep, I'm sorry to say, and were finished with breakfast & out the door somewhere around 10am.
*note on country nomenclature / distance estimation: "Arond the corner" usually involves going around a mountain between here and there, being careful for moose, bears or fallen trees as you go. "Down the road" is a minimum twenty miles along a road that is generally visible for the entire distance (i.e. Straight as an arrow and maybe even paved), if it's not snowing.
Part II and photos tomorrow
Drowning Pool, Nothingness
I could get used to this 'flying business class' stuff... Except for one minor detail: I was irritated at the toddler behind me. It amazed me; we were in business class with all this leg room, and the little bastard STILL had the reach to kick the back of my seat. He better get Gold in olympic running with a stride that far-reaching! Even with that minor annoyance, I couldn't help thinking that this was to be a really good weekend.
I sat next to a guy headed to Alaska for the rest of the month. Talking to this guy made me miss Montana some. He mentioned fishing up at Fire Hole, around the corner from Jackson Hole which is just down the road from where I was raised.* In a flash, I remembered trips to Canyon Ferry Dam to fish with my grandparents that would come up from Campbell, CA for a month or two in the fall on their way to Branson, Missouri for the season. Grandpa would mention how well he did this trip, only spending about $100/day to operate the motor home (with gas prices just over a dollar a gallon!). Catching the carp seemed to be my specialty, while he would catch and clean rainbow trout nearly as fast as he could cast the line in. I think I remember his method for cleaning 'em, too, in a way that negated needing to scale them. He ended up with a trout fillet that was ready for the grill only thirty seconds after biting the hook that caught it. Now THAT'S a fresh dinner.
So, landing a short time later, I met Jarvae at her gate and we went on to get the car. She insisted we keep thoughts of a red Impala in mind because she didn't want yet another rental car that was white. So, due entirely to all that mental chanting (and only perhaps because I put a word in with the rental car guy Brad) we left in a black Charger. When Brad told us this, I was thinking, "Fuckin-a, dude!" Let me just say now though, after several hours and 300+ miles driving it, that the driver seat ergonomics and rear visibility suck every ass out there, all with donkey dicks pounded in 'em. The head rest needs to be a rest people, NOT something that pushed my head forward as a six-foot tall line-backer's head would be pushed down in a five-foot tall phone booth. Even IF it "had a Hemi" in it, I would still have been well short of satisfied with that car.
As to the visit itself... Some mentioned possible "ulterior motives" (wink-nudge) for Jarvae so generously flying me over to see her for the weekend. At the hotel, the concierge checking us in says, "Well I see one person on the reservation, but two people here... Should I assume you don't need the twin double beds?" She says no. I think to myself, "Damn."
After checking in, it was a quick trip back down to Seattle for some wandering around. By then, it was maybe 7pm and much time was spent driving in circles in an unfamiliar city. It was almost a scouting trip to learn what we wanted to hit Monday morning: Space Needle of course, the music experience project / sci-fi museum that closed just as we stopped by there. That one souvenier shop just down from the Needle. Under NO circumstance were we going to stop at that McDonalds that we had passed some seven times! Many photos were taken. There was also the "is that a hard right, or a soft right I need to make?" question I had after being told to make the next left turn at the light as we headed back to the hotel. . . We stopped to have pizza (eh, good but not great), and called it a night around 10-ish.
The Embassy Suites kick serious ass. One thing we had mentioned as we checked in was our intent to head up to Canadia the next morning. Our helpful counter-dude (do they have an actual title?) tells us something ominous. Something called a Hands Across the Border Celebration was to shut down the border for five hours or so on Sunday, 11a-5p. Better be one helluva block party. I didn't even know what their "purpose" was, but with that heads-up we found an alternate route to cross.
Something I hear far too seldom: "Larry, you were right, I was wrong." Thank you dear. Doesn't matter what it was referring to. I'm recording it for posterity.
Sunday morning (after Jarvae had pulled an all-nighter on Friday) came maybe a little too soon. We both got a really good night sleep, I'm sorry to say, and were finished with breakfast & out the door somewhere around 10am.
*note on country nomenclature / distance estimation: "Arond the corner" usually involves going around a mountain between here and there, being careful for moose, bears or fallen trees as you go. "Down the road" is a minimum twenty miles along a road that is generally visible for the entire distance (i.e. Straight as an arrow and maybe even paved), if it's not snowing.
Part II and photos tomorrow
Drowning Pool, Nothingness
21 May 2007
Wino In Training
Whadda great weekend. Jarvae was my guest for the whole of it.
Actually time spent with her started back on Tuesday when she and her coworker went with me to see Spiderman 3. Long movie, but better than I'd anticipated from all the stuff I'd ready about it. Maybe what I had read was penned by the Spiderman Purist society or something. Ah well. I liked it, that's all that matters.
Forward to Friday; I picked her up as she dropped off her rental car, and we went to Chipotle after stopping at a couple places. The Fire Bowl Cafe turned out to be a Chinese food place. I thought it was interesting that the word "wok" isn't to be found anywhere until you're looking closely at the menu. You can find the menu in their web site if you have the patience to look around. It seemed to me that they want to be 'hip' to the point of trying to distance themselves from a "Chinese Restaurant" kind of place that has paper lamps hanging from the ceiling and dragons on every wall. They say: "Vegetarian, low carb, allergy sensitive? Come in and build a bowl to meet your special diet needs. Just ask one of our cashiers if you need help." Are you kidding me?? They expect their cashiers to be dieticians? Good grief. Yuppie-ville has spawned yet closer to my neighborhood.
We agreed that the weekend was going to be one of sleeping in, and to that end we watched part of Dr. Strangelove until she fell asleep. I nudged her enough to get her to go to bed. She woke up the next morning at 7:30. I should probably iterate here that Jarvae is not one you would call a "morning person"; I am usually her main alarm clock when she needs to get somewhere (like work). At least, when she doesn't answer and hang up the phone in her sleep. If she answers in her sleep and starts talking, it's a laugh riot though!
So she wakes at 7:30 completely on her own, though I think me walking out to get the paper might have been the culprit, really. We went to Pearl Street Mall and wandered around for a few hours. We stumbled across a winery and it was, as they say, all over. She likes wine. She likes tasting wine. She likes this to such a degree that she has told me of her intent to have the many bottles of wine that she's accrued taken to an actual Self-Storage Wine Cellar (I can't imagine what this would look like) somewhere for something like $40/month. This makes no sense to me, I think mostly because I'm sane.
She is now bound & determined to convert me to wine as well. After three wineries over two days, it seems I like white wines over red unless there's chocolate within reach to go with the... What are they again? Oh yeah, "tannins". So now I've got four whites in the fridge and a red in a dark dresser drawer, and a lot of reading to do. I know, I know. Just don't even start, okay?
Saturday evening after dinner with the g/f (recently ex... that'll take a post on its own), we try watching Young Frankenstein. I understand why she's not seen this movie. She keeps falling asleep!! It's either that, or she's just been entirely too sheltered in her young life. Anyway, the following morning I come out of my room at 8-ish & see her already awake. Says she was up again at 7:30. I think Mario woke her up this time though. We'll see how she does going forward to see if she's becoming a morning person or not (if you know her at all, I'm sure you can guess the answer to that, right?).
During the driving around over the weekend:
Pouting from Jarvae: "Hey! Why did you lock the windows so I can't roll it down?" --extra pouty, even HURT look--
I checked the window lock & it was not on, then watched as she tried to roll the window down.
I replied, "Darlin', you've gotta push down on the switch instead of up. Works better that way."
Doubting me, she looks at the switch, pushes the other way and looks slightly irritated as the window goes down. "Oh..."
Of course I mention that only as a pre-emptive strike as she'll likely post a photo or two of me in a less-than-composed, goofing-off nature.
Metallica, One
Actually time spent with her started back on Tuesday when she and her coworker went with me to see Spiderman 3. Long movie, but better than I'd anticipated from all the stuff I'd ready about it. Maybe what I had read was penned by the Spiderman Purist society or something. Ah well. I liked it, that's all that matters.
Forward to Friday; I picked her up as she dropped off her rental car, and we went to Chipotle after stopping at a couple places. The Fire Bowl Cafe turned out to be a Chinese food place. I thought it was interesting that the word "wok" isn't to be found anywhere until you're looking closely at the menu. You can find the menu in their web site if you have the patience to look around. It seemed to me that they want to be 'hip' to the point of trying to distance themselves from a "Chinese Restaurant" kind of place that has paper lamps hanging from the ceiling and dragons on every wall. They say: "Vegetarian, low carb, allergy sensitive? Come in and build a bowl to meet your special diet needs. Just ask one of our cashiers if you need help." Are you kidding me?? They expect their cashiers to be dieticians? Good grief. Yuppie-ville has spawned yet closer to my neighborhood.
We agreed that the weekend was going to be one of sleeping in, and to that end we watched part of Dr. Strangelove until she fell asleep. I nudged her enough to get her to go to bed. She woke up the next morning at 7:30. I should probably iterate here that Jarvae is not one you would call a "morning person"; I am usually her main alarm clock when she needs to get somewhere (like work). At least, when she doesn't answer and hang up the phone in her sleep. If she answers in her sleep and starts talking, it's a laugh riot though!
So she wakes at 7:30 completely on her own, though I think me walking out to get the paper might have been the culprit, really. We went to Pearl Street Mall and wandered around for a few hours. We stumbled across a winery and it was, as they say, all over. She likes wine. She likes tasting wine. She likes this to such a degree that she has told me of her intent to have the many bottles of wine that she's accrued taken to an actual Self-Storage Wine Cellar (I can't imagine what this would look like) somewhere for something like $40/month. This makes no sense to me, I think mostly because I'm sane.
She is now bound & determined to convert me to wine as well. After three wineries over two days, it seems I like white wines over red unless there's chocolate within reach to go with the... What are they again? Oh yeah, "tannins". So now I've got four whites in the fridge and a red in a dark dresser drawer, and a lot of reading to do. I know, I know. Just don't even start, okay?
Saturday evening after dinner with the g/f (recently ex... that'll take a post on its own), we try watching Young Frankenstein. I understand why she's not seen this movie. She keeps falling asleep!! It's either that, or she's just been entirely too sheltered in her young life. Anyway, the following morning I come out of my room at 8-ish & see her already awake. Says she was up again at 7:30. I think Mario woke her up this time though. We'll see how she does going forward to see if she's becoming a morning person or not (if you know her at all, I'm sure you can guess the answer to that, right?).
During the driving around over the weekend:
Pouting from Jarvae: "Hey! Why did you lock the windows so I can't roll it down?" --extra pouty, even HURT look--
I checked the window lock & it was not on, then watched as she tried to roll the window down.
I replied, "Darlin', you've gotta push down on the switch instead of up. Works better that way."
Doubting me, she looks at the switch, pushes the other way and looks slightly irritated as the window goes down. "Oh..."
Of course I mention that only as a pre-emptive strike as she'll likely post a photo or two of me in a less-than-composed, goofing-off nature.
Metallica, One
12 May 2007
Friday off... PARTYPARTYPARTY
I took Friday off. No reason, just decided to take a three-day weekend. Saw a movie from the same guy that gave us Shaun of the Dead. Turns out that the movie also used pretty much the same cast as SotD, too. I enjoyed Hot Fuzz quite a bit.
Last night went to a going-away party of sorts; A coworker here is being sent to the desert for a while, so a bunch of us got together to shoot some stick and down some booze. Then there was the obligatory knee-to-chin incident as well (hey, get a couple Marines and an Army Ranger together with alcohol in the general vicinity and things happen. Good times)... Happily it wasn't my chin. I only got clocked as I stood too close watching someone take a swing at the Golden Tee game there. I ended at +16 for that course (I can't putt in that game to save my life). The other guy was swinging to slice a hard left and brought his hand right to my eye.
Gnarls Barkley, The Boogie Monster
Last night went to a going-away party of sorts; A coworker here is being sent to the desert for a while, so a bunch of us got together to shoot some stick and down some booze. Then there was the obligatory knee-to-chin incident as well (hey, get a couple Marines and an Army Ranger together with alcohol in the general vicinity and things happen. Good times)... Happily it wasn't my chin. I only got clocked as I stood too close watching someone take a swing at the Golden Tee game there. I ended at +16 for that course (I can't putt in that game to save my life). The other guy was swinging to slice a hard left and brought his hand right to my eye.
This morning was a good morning. After six hours of sleep, I got up with the sun to get outside & wash the car before the temp crept up too high. Started at 61 degrees, wiped off the last of the wax at 71 degrees, a mere two hours later. The Nissan is mostly pretty again ( #!@%*^!! Cottonwood tree keeps dumping its sap & other crap on it). Why did I do this? ... Forecast from the local station this morning:
... No really. I'd like to know why. A few hours later I went to the store and found a nice layer of cottonwood pollen covering it, bumper to bumper. Grrr. Anyone want to do some midnight chainsawing?
Gnarls Barkley, The Boogie Monster
04 May 2007
Look, I'm heartless.
Points from a CNN story.
"Democratic Party Chairman Howard Dean told immigrant supporters in Miami that a reform bill before Congress was "insane" because it would require many illegal immigrants to return home before applying for citizenship."
--Not insane at all. It's proper punishment to reinforce the assertion that we are a country of laws. Start over and immigrate to our coutry the legal way. Do we just give a child whose hand we caught in the cookie jar a reward? Maybe we should just "punish" those that drive 75 in a school zone by simply raising the speed limit instead of taking away their license?
"In New York, immigrants and their supporters added names to a painting of a tree meant to symbolize the American family and the crucial role of immigrants in U.S. history. People in the crowd then attached leaves containing names of relatives. "
"These people are hardworking people," said Djounedou Titi, a West African immigrant who has lived in the U.S. for eight years. "They deserve credit. And the only credit this country can give to them is citizenship."
--This is no tree. It is a weed. Slowly rooting into the concrete that was America, deteriorating it to a pile of rubble. "Added names to a painting of a tree"?? A tree of people that, with their very first step into this country, spit on the laws of our land? There are rules for a reason. Abide by them, or go shit in your OWN sand box.
Magda Ortiz, a 27-year-old legal resident from Mexico and mother of two, pushed through crowds on the city's lakefront with a stroller bearing a sign that read: "Bush, think about the moms. Stop the raids."
--Huh? I'm pretty sure Bush didn't BRING your infant over the border, or tugged your pregnant sister's arm to get her across the border between contractions to try to ensure your free ride. How about this: Why don't you think about your children? Why not set an example for them by following the rules of admission? Your children are NOT my responsibility.
"I want to send them back," he said. "I've been in the city for 40 years. They've completely destroyed our city."
--Okay, he's just a nut-job that the media apparently really had to hunt to find. They didn't get any other input from the opposition? Of course not. They only want the salivating reactionaries' view-point. Helps ratings, after all. Look, immigration doesn't have to be splashed broadly as ONLY filth-ridden free-loaders pouring in. Why are the stories of new immigrants, right hands held up taking their oath as new American citizens, not spot-lighted more often? Give these free-loaders something to aspire to.
"After last year's marches, which drew a million-plus protesters, the Senate passed a sweeping bill that would have provided a path to citizenship for many of the nation's 12 million illegal immigrants. But the bill was never reconciled with the then-Republican-controlled House, and legislation has languished since last summer. Subsequent bipartisan proposals have gotten more conservative."
--Oh, sure: When the Bush puppets were "in power" they supposedly blocked all attempts at this sweeping bill, but now that the toothless other party is in control... what? What's their excuse? Perhaps they realize that the puppets might have been on to something? Maybe that their own constituents DON'T want the borders wide open?
Roy Dunn, Further On Down the Line
"Democratic Party Chairman Howard Dean told immigrant supporters in Miami that a reform bill before Congress was "insane" because it would require many illegal immigrants to return home before applying for citizenship."
--Not insane at all. It's proper punishment to reinforce the assertion that we are a country of laws. Start over and immigrate to our coutry the legal way. Do we just give a child whose hand we caught in the cookie jar a reward? Maybe we should just "punish" those that drive 75 in a school zone by simply raising the speed limit instead of taking away their license?
"In New York, immigrants and their supporters added names to a painting of a tree meant to symbolize the American family and the crucial role of immigrants in U.S. history. People in the crowd then attached leaves containing names of relatives. "
"These people are hardworking people," said Djounedou Titi, a West African immigrant who has lived in the U.S. for eight years. "They deserve credit. And the only credit this country can give to them is citizenship."
--This is no tree. It is a weed. Slowly rooting into the concrete that was America, deteriorating it to a pile of rubble. "Added names to a painting of a tree"?? A tree of people that, with their very first step into this country, spit on the laws of our land? There are rules for a reason. Abide by them, or go shit in your OWN sand box.
Magda Ortiz, a 27-year-old legal resident from Mexico and mother of two, pushed through crowds on the city's lakefront with a stroller bearing a sign that read: "Bush, think about the moms. Stop the raids."
--Huh? I'm pretty sure Bush didn't BRING your infant over the border, or tugged your pregnant sister's arm to get her across the border between contractions to try to ensure your free ride. How about this: Why don't you think about your children? Why not set an example for them by following the rules of admission? Your children are NOT my responsibility.
"I want to send them back," he said. "I've been in the city for 40 years. They've completely destroyed our city."
--Okay, he's just a nut-job that the media apparently really had to hunt to find. They didn't get any other input from the opposition? Of course not. They only want the salivating reactionaries' view-point. Helps ratings, after all. Look, immigration doesn't have to be splashed broadly as ONLY filth-ridden free-loaders pouring in. Why are the stories of new immigrants, right hands held up taking their oath as new American citizens, not spot-lighted more often? Give these free-loaders something to aspire to.
"After last year's marches, which drew a million-plus protesters, the Senate passed a sweeping bill that would have provided a path to citizenship for many of the nation's 12 million illegal immigrants. But the bill was never reconciled with the then-Republican-controlled House, and legislation has languished since last summer. Subsequent bipartisan proposals have gotten more conservative."
--Oh, sure: When the Bush puppets were "in power" they supposedly blocked all attempts at this sweeping bill, but now that the toothless other party is in control... what? What's their excuse? Perhaps they realize that the puppets might have been on to something? Maybe that their own constituents DON'T want the borders wide open?
Roy Dunn, Further On Down the Line
02 May 2007
Hear Elvis singing?
So there's this problem I have. I live in a ghetto. I can't say it's the boonies, because I've lived there before in Montana. This ain't the boonies. This ghetto is so ghetto that neither Qwest, nor Comcast will bring broadband internet. That ghetto. The telephone lines that Qwest does have here aren't that great, but dial-up internet has peaked somewhere between 42 and 44k. Not bad for a PCI modem, until you try to use any ISP in this area. Not once am I able to complete a connection on the first attempt. It's just painfully annoying.
Then I picked up this cell phone that has a USB connection to keep my address lists of friends and family (and other lists) nicely backed-up. Lo and behold, I see it can even act as a modem for the computer with the data package I have.
A couple days ago, as I was getting connection speeds of a mere 24k due to awful noise on the phone line I thought, "What the hell, I'll give that a try. Can't get much worse than 24k fer cryin' out loud."
Try indeed. The first attempt connected me at 460k. Trying later in the day connected my computer at a "lowly" 120k. I don't know why the sudden slow-down, but I immediately called Cingular and upped my service to include their unlimited "MEdianet" package. Only $15 more on the cell phone bill, and I lose $35 for the home phone service and ISP charge.
Yeah, I can deal with four times the connection speed (ten times, on a good day apparently) with $20 savings per month. Yay for the home team.
I can actually stream Sirius radio now WHILE Icheck out porn download winders updates and irfanview and an occasional tune! ...am I, perhaps, just a little too happy about this?
Elvis, Money Honey
Then I picked up this cell phone that has a USB connection to keep my address lists of friends and family (and other lists) nicely backed-up. Lo and behold, I see it can even act as a modem for the computer with the data package I have.
A couple days ago, as I was getting connection speeds of a mere 24k due to awful noise on the phone line I thought, "What the hell, I'll give that a try. Can't get much worse than 24k fer cryin' out loud."
Try indeed. The first attempt connected me at 460k. Trying later in the day connected my computer at a "lowly" 120k. I don't know why the sudden slow-down, but I immediately called Cingular and upped my service to include their unlimited "MEdianet" package. Only $15 more on the cell phone bill, and I lose $35 for the home phone service and ISP charge.
Yeah, I can deal with four times the connection speed (ten times, on a good day apparently) with $20 savings per month. Yay for the home team.
I can actually stream Sirius radio now WHILE I
Elvis, Money Honey
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