And now I have to figure out the next direction job-wise. I'm kind of at a loss. I guess it's really time to do some networking. I've tried, and that's how I got the last two interviews...it's just hard to keep the hope alive. But both of the last rejections were very gentle and kind. And I believe sincerely that neither was a personal condemnation. It just makes the summer suck.
But in good news, I guess- if I can spin it a touch- I can now go home to MT in early July with Spouse and see everyone- and maybe get a kitten. I was looking at missing the trip due to a freshly born job. But we know what happened there. I would also get to see the baby niece. So let's look on the bright side. of life.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
General fashion observation
I noticed an odd trend in Montreal. Actually, we all did- it was very difficult to miss. There seems to be an abundance of small (teeny, tiny) thin women with huge (gigantic!) chests in that city. And they all wear extremely tall shoes. Even to a racetrack where they have to walk in dirt. Many of these women appeared to be on the verge of toppling over. It was unsettling.
As was the mole on the back of the woman sitting in front of me at the race. It looked really bad. We know from eavesdropping that her husband was a plastic surgeon (and a real dick- from the way he was discussing his patients). I don't understand why he wouldn't have looked at that mole and gotten her promptly into the dermatologist. Right away. And she was getting plenty of sun on it...
I have a special sensitivity to the whole mole/sun thing- some of you know that a little over a year ago I had a stage 1 melanoma removed from my back. It was the most frightening period of my life. I didn't know whether or not the cancer had spread, and felt like my skin was the enemy. It sucked. And I really lucked out. But the reality that it happened remains, and the threat lurks. Believe me, it's not something that anyone wants to experience. So the sunblock and covering up are important.
It didn't help growing up in the 70s when the Ban Du Soleil tan was in. And totally impossible for me. I could muster up a slight flesh tinge if I burned severely, blistered, peeled and re-dosed on sun in a week or so. But it inevitably flaked off after a couple of days. And the pain of the pre-tan burn was just unbelievable. Sheets hurt. Clothes hurt. Tepid showers hurt. And once the pain subsided, the itchy peeling started. And we just didn't know. All about skin cancer. No clue. My best friend in High School was a brunette version of me- pasty in the extreme, but hell bent on tanning. I only hope that she's not had similar problems. At least I didn't ruin my feet with stupid shoes, though. I'll leave that to the French Canadian ladies with the racks.
As was the mole on the back of the woman sitting in front of me at the race. It looked really bad. We know from eavesdropping that her husband was a plastic surgeon (and a real dick- from the way he was discussing his patients). I don't understand why he wouldn't have looked at that mole and gotten her promptly into the dermatologist. Right away. And she was getting plenty of sun on it...
I have a special sensitivity to the whole mole/sun thing- some of you know that a little over a year ago I had a stage 1 melanoma removed from my back. It was the most frightening period of my life. I didn't know whether or not the cancer had spread, and felt like my skin was the enemy. It sucked. And I really lucked out. But the reality that it happened remains, and the threat lurks. Believe me, it's not something that anyone wants to experience. So the sunblock and covering up are important.
It didn't help growing up in the 70s when the Ban Du Soleil tan was in. And totally impossible for me. I could muster up a slight flesh tinge if I burned severely, blistered, peeled and re-dosed on sun in a week or so. But it inevitably flaked off after a couple of days. And the pain of the pre-tan burn was just unbelievable. Sheets hurt. Clothes hurt. Tepid showers hurt. And once the pain subsided, the itchy peeling started. And we just didn't know. All about skin cancer. No clue. My best friend in High School was a brunette version of me- pasty in the extreme, but hell bent on tanning. I only hope that she's not had similar problems. At least I didn't ruin my feet with stupid shoes, though. I'll leave that to the French Canadian ladies with the racks.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Ok- no wallowing in it, right?
And the winner is? Me. I just got a wonderful message from Spouse. It's the reason I'm still with him almost 15 years later. Not just the intensely fun shared history- but his capacity to come through when I need it. Not in a dramatic way (no rushing home to console me- that would be icky), but in a funny and sweet way. Love him, love him, love him.
Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies
And the verdict comes down- no job for me. At least I made it through 2 interviews. And the person whose unhappy job was to tell me their decision was very kind about it. But that makes for 7 jobs interviewed for, and none acquired. It's hard, very hard not to feel like a loser at this point. So- no, I'm not doing super ok right now, don't ask, please. I'll get over it, and give it more thought and much more effort. Gotta. But right now I think that ice cream is calling my name. And I'll decide whether or not to listen...
Bad kitties today
From msnbc.com:
NAIROBI - A 73-year-old Kenyan grandfather reached into the mouth of an attacking leopard and tore out its tongue to kill it, authorities said Wednesday.
...
M’Mburugu had a machete in one hand but dropped that to thrust his fist down the leopard’s mouth. He gradually managed to pull out the animal’s tongue, leaving it in its death-throes.
...
(Damn. I would probably just mess my pants and die.)
NAIROBI - A 73-year-old Kenyan grandfather reached into the mouth of an attacking leopard and tore out its tongue to kill it, authorities said Wednesday.
...
M’Mburugu had a machete in one hand but dropped that to thrust his fist down the leopard’s mouth. He gradually managed to pull out the animal’s tongue, leaving it in its death-throes.
...
(Damn. I would probably just mess my pants and die.)
It's raining outside
And I know that my friends in MT will smugly say, "what did you expect- it's bloody Seattle!"
I'm not complaining, though. I actually like the rain. In AZ when we were there- rainy days were a wonderful break from the opressive sunshine. And yes, 300 days or so of sunshine a year is oppressive. Especially when it comes with heat. Withering heat. Heat that is as dangerous and scary as the 30 below winters of MT.
Growing up, I actually liked rainy days. It allowed me the prime opportunity to not go outside and play. I could stay indoors and not face being told to go out. I liked to read. I liked to watch bad 70s tv. In fact, I preferred it. Probably has a lot to do with all of the sunburns that I suffered. Seriously. I burn like crazy. And it really hurts. And what with my recent history of melanoma, my instincts weren't all wrong.
And after rain was kinda fun- we had a dirt road back in the day (paved when I was 10). And there was a huge puddle that formed in front of our house after a good gullywasher. I would virtually bathe in it. It was fun. And I'm sure my mother really appreciated it. My affinity for mud, I mean. Makes the ceramics degree a little more logical, perhaps. But no, I've never wrestled in it with anyone. And considering my fitness level and age, don't think it's in the cards for the future- immediate or otherwise. It would take a lotta money or a whole lotta booze to induce me to do so (and that much alcohol would likely leave me comatose, not in wrestling form).
Anyway- that's the weather report. And I'm sticking to it.
I'm not complaining, though. I actually like the rain. In AZ when we were there- rainy days were a wonderful break from the opressive sunshine. And yes, 300 days or so of sunshine a year is oppressive. Especially when it comes with heat. Withering heat. Heat that is as dangerous and scary as the 30 below winters of MT.
Growing up, I actually liked rainy days. It allowed me the prime opportunity to not go outside and play. I could stay indoors and not face being told to go out. I liked to read. I liked to watch bad 70s tv. In fact, I preferred it. Probably has a lot to do with all of the sunburns that I suffered. Seriously. I burn like crazy. And it really hurts. And what with my recent history of melanoma, my instincts weren't all wrong.
And after rain was kinda fun- we had a dirt road back in the day (paved when I was 10). And there was a huge puddle that formed in front of our house after a good gullywasher. I would virtually bathe in it. It was fun. And I'm sure my mother really appreciated it. My affinity for mud, I mean. Makes the ceramics degree a little more logical, perhaps. But no, I've never wrestled in it with anyone. And considering my fitness level and age, don't think it's in the cards for the future- immediate or otherwise. It would take a lotta money or a whole lotta booze to induce me to do so (and that much alcohol would likely leave me comatose, not in wrestling form).
Anyway- that's the weather report. And I'm sticking to it.
Wow...
Bernie Ecclestone is really a dick.
From msnbc.com:
How could Formula One chief Bernie Ecclestone top his previous comments about IRL racing sensation Danica Patrick? Well, he did.
Last week when asked about Patrick, Ecclestone caused a media stir by saying women "should be all dressed in white like all of the other domestic appliances."
From msnbc.com:
How could Formula One chief Bernie Ecclestone top his previous comments about IRL racing sensation Danica Patrick? Well, he did.
Last week when asked about Patrick, Ecclestone caused a media stir by saying women "should be all dressed in white like all of the other domestic appliances."
But he apparently outdid himself when he called Patrick and repeated the same line.
Patrick said that Ecclestone called her Saturday morning and, after congratulating her on her fourth-place finish at the Indy 500, again repeated his statement about women, the Indianapolis Star reported Wednesday.
Patrick was stunned, she said, according to the newspaper.
"He told me those things, and I was like, I don't know, I just didn't make sense of it," she said Tuesday, the newspaper reported. "I can't believe he that would say that . . . directly to me."
Patrick said she didn't say anything about Ecclestone's comments earlier because she didn't realize he had said the same thing to reporters, and said she only brought it up when friends asked her about the comments, the newspaper reported.
Patrick, 23, didn't know what to make of Ecclestone's comments, the newspaper reported.
"Unless he was talking about someone else or the majority (of women) or what, I'm not really sure," she said, the Star reported. "Or, maybe that's his real feelings, and if that's the case, then it doesn't really matter because I'm racing in the Indy Racing League."
(impressive. I hope she gets into F1 and kicks some major ass.)
And there's more
From racing-live.f1:
In Britain, the chaos affected betting shops, where thousands of punters were refused refunds after betting on Michelin runners who did not compete, particularly Fernando Alonso, the championship leader, and Kimi Raikkonen, his main rival.
Leading bookmakers, such as William Hill and Ladbrokes, decided to stick to the Formula One rule that cars that take part in the parade lap had started the race, which meant that thousands who backed Raikkonen and Alonso lost their money.
Other bookmakers declared the race null and void and handed back bets.
"It is complete confusion," A spokesman for Ladbrokes said. "We have had to stick to the rules, but the industry has lost a lot of money on this one. It will go further, I am sure of that."
The betting industry could line up behind Europes leading television companies to complain to Ecclestone and the FIA, the sports governing body.
(so they've pissed of the bookies- not so smart...I'm waiting to hear reports of horse's heads on beds, etc.)
In Britain, the chaos affected betting shops, where thousands of punters were refused refunds after betting on Michelin runners who did not compete, particularly Fernando Alonso, the championship leader, and Kimi Raikkonen, his main rival.
Leading bookmakers, such as William Hill and Ladbrokes, decided to stick to the Formula One rule that cars that take part in the parade lap had started the race, which meant that thousands who backed Raikkonen and Alonso lost their money.
Other bookmakers declared the race null and void and handed back bets.
"It is complete confusion," A spokesman for Ladbrokes said. "We have had to stick to the rules, but the industry has lost a lot of money on this one. It will go further, I am sure of that."
The betting industry could line up behind Europes leading television companies to complain to Ecclestone and the FIA, the sports governing body.
(so they've pissed of the bookies- not so smart...I'm waiting to hear reports of horse's heads on beds, etc.)
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
And they say cats don't care
From MSNBC.com
ADDIS ABABA, Ethiopia - A 12-year-old girl who was abducted and beaten by men trying to force her into a marriage was found being guarded by three lions who apparently had chased off her captors, a policeman said Tuesday.
The girl, missing for a week, had been taken by seven men who wanted to force her to marry one of them, said Sgt. Wondimu Wedajo, speaking by telephone from the provincial capital of Bita Genet, about 350 miles southwest of Addis Ababa.
ADDIS ABABA, Ethiopia - A 12-year-old girl who was abducted and beaten by men trying to force her into a marriage was found being guarded by three lions who apparently had chased off her captors, a policeman said Tuesday.
The girl, missing for a week, had been taken by seven men who wanted to force her to marry one of them, said Sgt. Wondimu Wedajo, speaking by telephone from the provincial capital of Bita Genet, about 350 miles southwest of Addis Ababa.
She was beaten repeatedly before she was found June 9 by police and relatives on the outskirts of Bita Genet, Wondimu said. She had been guarded by the lions for about half a day, he said.
“They stood guard until we found her and then they just left her like a gift and went back into the forest,” Wondimu said.
“If the lions had not come to her rescue, then it could have been much worse. Often these young girls are raped and severely beaten to force them to accept the marriage,” he said.
'Some kind of miracle'
Tilahun Kassa, a local government official who corroborated Wondimu’s version of the events, said one of the men had wanted to marry the girl against her wishes.
“Everyone thinks this is some kind of miracle, because normally the lions would attack people,” Wondimu said.
Stuart Williams, a wildlife expert with the rural development ministry, said the girl may have survived because she was crying from the trauma of her attack.
“A young girl whimpering could be mistaken for the mewing sound from a lion cub, which in turn could explain why they didn’t eat her,” Williams said.
Ethiopia’s lions, famous for their large black manes, are the country’s national symbol and adorn statues and the local currency. Despite a recent crackdown, hunters kill the animals for their skins, which can fetch $1,000. Williams estimates that only 1,000 Ethiopian lions remain in the wild.
The girl, the youngest of four siblings, was “shocked and terrified” after her abduction and had to be treated for the cuts from her beatings, Wondimu said.
He said police had caught four of the abductors and three were still at large.
Kidnapping young girls has long been part of the marriage custom in Ethiopia. The United Nations estimates that more than 70 percent of marriages in Ethiopia are by abduction, practiced in rural areas where most of the country’s 71 million people live. (emphasis mine)
They're trying...
So goes the official mea culpas:
From Racing-Live.f1-
This ill feeling means the fans are unlikely to take up an offer from the race organisers for next year’s GP. Anyone buying tickets for the 2006 US GP on Sunday was eligible to drive their own road car around the F1 race track on a designated day next year. It sounds like a recipe for disaster and something of a Demolition Derby!
At least there was a chance for the F1 folk to put this weekend behind them and prepare for the trip back home after a hectic fortnight on the North American continent. It came, of course, courtesy of Red Bull, who staged yet another of their legendary parties on Sunday night. It took place in downtown Indianapolis and this time, all the teams joined in!
(Yeah- I'll get new tires on the Grand Am in anticipation...)
From Racing-Live.f1-
This ill feeling means the fans are unlikely to take up an offer from the race organisers for next year’s GP. Anyone buying tickets for the 2006 US GP on Sunday was eligible to drive their own road car around the F1 race track on a designated day next year. It sounds like a recipe for disaster and something of a Demolition Derby!
At least there was a chance for the F1 folk to put this weekend behind them and prepare for the trip back home after a hectic fortnight on the North American continent. It came, of course, courtesy of Red Bull, who staged yet another of their legendary parties on Sunday night. It took place in downtown Indianapolis and this time, all the teams joined in!
(Yeah- I'll get new tires on the Grand Am in anticipation...)
Monex?
What's up with Monex? Have any of you seen the ads about buying gold- there's a stuffy blond woman accessorized in gold jewelry touting the advantages of buying gold to the soundtrack of classical music? It's funny. Not only are the tunes supposed to conjure up high-brow elegance, but they're old enough to be royalty free. And the woman- she has an alleged somewhat English accent. I'm not convinced. It's all too calculated- luxury+gold+kept woman with English roots= financial stability. Sadly, if you actually had all of those things, the British little tart would probably be siphoning all of the gold off into a secret Swiss bank account in anticipation to jumping ship with the cabana boy. She looks like she's capable of that. She's not the classy Overstock.com woman. She's more low-rent, and has a touch of desperation.
F1 shitstorm
Yeah- I realize that the majority of my friends don't give a rat's ass about F1- but humor me. It matters to me. I love the sport. Beyond reason. I went on a 3000 mile odyssey to see a race, all the while being the only source of estrogen in the group. It was fun, but you probably get the point that I'm committed to the whole thing.
So Sunday's race fiasco is starting to settle in. The 7 teams who pulled out of the race, and their tire (or tyre) manufacturer (Michelin) are being held accountable for making the whole thing stink. And it could have some really serious fallout for the sport in general. With the protest action of the teams, they showed the FIA (governing body of the sport) that they were willing to tweak noses. And not only was it a fuck you for the FIA and the fans, but to the sponsors, as well. The teams could wind up re-embursing the sponsors for ticket prices, etc. And they could wind up paying the fans for the $100+ per ticket. Stupid move, if'n you ask me. I thought that there had to be a way for them to race, and they were looking for an excuse to tweak Max Mosley(President of the FIA) and show some muscle. I guess that there's talk of a breakaway racing federation starring those teams. Impressive solidarity shown, but I think that the results will be regrettable. Too much ego, not enough attention paid to the fans and our love for their sport.
So Sunday's race fiasco is starting to settle in. The 7 teams who pulled out of the race, and their tire (or tyre) manufacturer (Michelin) are being held accountable for making the whole thing stink. And it could have some really serious fallout for the sport in general. With the protest action of the teams, they showed the FIA (governing body of the sport) that they were willing to tweak noses. And not only was it a fuck you for the FIA and the fans, but to the sponsors, as well. The teams could wind up re-embursing the sponsors for ticket prices, etc. And they could wind up paying the fans for the $100+ per ticket. Stupid move, if'n you ask me. I thought that there had to be a way for them to race, and they were looking for an excuse to tweak Max Mosley(President of the FIA) and show some muscle. I guess that there's talk of a breakaway racing federation starring those teams. Impressive solidarity shown, but I think that the results will be regrettable. Too much ego, not enough attention paid to the fans and our love for their sport.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Car accident
On the way to birthday morning coffee, we got sideswiped by a tattered blue/white pickup truck. Not so bad if it was in my car- it's looking a leetle rough around the edges anyway- the new dents would add more "character". But in Spouse's car baby, it was pretty ugly. I am sad for him. He is very philosophical about it all- probably helps that he has a degree in Philosophy- the training has stuck. But it sucked anyway.
And then there's the F1 race. We were watching the coverage on Speed TV with envy- it looked like a better race than Montreal- and there was more coverage, etc. But then it happened. Fiasco- only 6 Bridgestone clad cars competed- with the 14 Michelin cars pulling out of the race. Total crap if'n you ask me. I wanted Michael to win, but not quite like that. And it's great that Minardi now has more championship points than in their history, but it was a nasty way to do it. The whole thing made me very sad. And I'm very glad that we didn't choose Indy over Montreal. Sorry for doubting you, Montreal! You were faithful and good. You deserved better from me.
But hey- maybe next year, if the race is held there, the tickets might be cheaper...
And then there's the F1 race. We were watching the coverage on Speed TV with envy- it looked like a better race than Montreal- and there was more coverage, etc. But then it happened. Fiasco- only 6 Bridgestone clad cars competed- with the 14 Michelin cars pulling out of the race. Total crap if'n you ask me. I wanted Michael to win, but not quite like that. And it's great that Minardi now has more championship points than in their history, but it was a nasty way to do it. The whole thing made me very sad. And I'm very glad that we didn't choose Indy over Montreal. Sorry for doubting you, Montreal! You were faithful and good. You deserved better from me.
But hey- maybe next year, if the race is held there, the tickets might be cheaper...
Birthday weekend
Why settle for only one day- when a whole weekend will suffice?
I was actually born on Father's Day, so feel especially entitled when my birthday falls on FD again- like yesterday. And one of our lovely friends had a baby yesterday- I'm so proud of her! She was 2 weeks early. Perfect entrance, my dear- the first of a long line, I hope! (I was a month early, so know my big moments when I see them).
So there was a microbrew/brewers fest up in Bothell this weekend. It was fun. I have to say that if you ever wind up in Yakima (God forbid), take a moment and go to the Snipe's Mountain brewery. Their beers are very special (not in a tarded way), and something extraordinary. And I'm not saying that cuz I was drunk. I was merely slightly indisposed. There was no headache involved later. At least not one that I noticed.
We also went to my favorite Indian restaurant up in the U district. I have an affinity for the MOST decadent meal on the planet- butter chicken. UMMMM! I dream about the stuff if deprived for too long. Funny- it used to be panang chicken a la Thai that did the trick. Seems like so long ago.
And then last night (after the car accident and the stoopid F1 Indy race) we went to Dave Atell. And yes, I know that there's some irony about me blogging Dave Atell after he made fun of blogging Dave Atell, but I paid for the tickets, and free speech is a good thing.
Dave was funny as hell. I have to say that I can't relate any specifics. And no, I wasn't drunk (unlike plenty who attended). I just have a problem- long standing- that I have never been able to tell or even remember a joke. Never. It sucks. I hear them, laugh, and promptly forget the whole thing. It makes me useless on certain occasions- like blogging Dave Atell. I'll say this much- there are two possibly young (didn't get a good look- hope so or it's even sadder) chippies who need to consider a break in the party action- for the good of their self-esteems. It reminded me of the story our friend told us of the tawdry little things who got into the BAR pits at Montreal by promising to "make it worth your while" to the poor mechanic who didn't know what to do with himself (betcha she helped him figure it all out). I would love to chat with Dave- but in a more meaningful way than "you rock!" "Thanks-er-could you please get out of my way?" "No, really, dude- you rock!"
I guess I'm just not a star fucker. I was thinking about it last night- and chatted over beer and french fries (frites) with Spouse at our neighborhood pub. Back in the 80s, my mother and I were flying back to MT from Puerto Vallarta. We had a layover in LA- and were behind schedule due to inexplicable confusion feuling up the plane (we watched an entirely too confused ground crew trying out the gear for what looked like the first time). We got to the terminal and found Joan Rivers holding court by the entrance to the plane. She was in a full length mink coat, and alone with some guy. All of the people in the area were well aware of her, but playing it pretty cool. Until Star Fuckers 1&2 showed up. They sauntered up to her and introduced themselves and proceeded to make a spectacle of themselves by name-dropping themselves into some kind of B list celebrity frenzy. It was funny as hell. And I was by far too hung-over and sunburned to find much funny. But it also was icky. Oozy kind of icky.
In my mother's hometown (population around 300), they get celeb sightings at the main bar all of the time (certain people have homes/ranches in the area), and it's a point of pride not to bug the celebs when they are in the bar. It's just not done. And I kind of like that. No agenda- just letting these people behave normally.
Anyway- Dave Atell- funny guy, probably interesting to chat with, but not whilst surrounded by hundreds of drunken Seattlites. And seriously, people- suggesting that he go to the fucking Whisky bar? WTF! Do you not realize that the man has an affinity for cheap dives, and probably won't want to discuss the merits of single malt versus double with you? Dumbasses.
I was actually born on Father's Day, so feel especially entitled when my birthday falls on FD again- like yesterday. And one of our lovely friends had a baby yesterday- I'm so proud of her! She was 2 weeks early. Perfect entrance, my dear- the first of a long line, I hope! (I was a month early, so know my big moments when I see them).
So there was a microbrew/brewers fest up in Bothell this weekend. It was fun. I have to say that if you ever wind up in Yakima (God forbid), take a moment and go to the Snipe's Mountain brewery. Their beers are very special (not in a tarded way), and something extraordinary. And I'm not saying that cuz I was drunk. I was merely slightly indisposed. There was no headache involved later. At least not one that I noticed.
We also went to my favorite Indian restaurant up in the U district. I have an affinity for the MOST decadent meal on the planet- butter chicken. UMMMM! I dream about the stuff if deprived for too long. Funny- it used to be panang chicken a la Thai that did the trick. Seems like so long ago.
And then last night (after the car accident and the stoopid F1 Indy race) we went to Dave Atell. And yes, I know that there's some irony about me blogging Dave Atell after he made fun of blogging Dave Atell, but I paid for the tickets, and free speech is a good thing.
Dave was funny as hell. I have to say that I can't relate any specifics. And no, I wasn't drunk (unlike plenty who attended). I just have a problem- long standing- that I have never been able to tell or even remember a joke. Never. It sucks. I hear them, laugh, and promptly forget the whole thing. It makes me useless on certain occasions- like blogging Dave Atell. I'll say this much- there are two possibly young (didn't get a good look- hope so or it's even sadder) chippies who need to consider a break in the party action- for the good of their self-esteems. It reminded me of the story our friend told us of the tawdry little things who got into the BAR pits at Montreal by promising to "make it worth your while" to the poor mechanic who didn't know what to do with himself (betcha she helped him figure it all out). I would love to chat with Dave- but in a more meaningful way than "you rock!" "Thanks-er-could you please get out of my way?" "No, really, dude- you rock!"
I guess I'm just not a star fucker. I was thinking about it last night- and chatted over beer and french fries (frites) with Spouse at our neighborhood pub. Back in the 80s, my mother and I were flying back to MT from Puerto Vallarta. We had a layover in LA- and were behind schedule due to inexplicable confusion feuling up the plane (we watched an entirely too confused ground crew trying out the gear for what looked like the first time). We got to the terminal and found Joan Rivers holding court by the entrance to the plane. She was in a full length mink coat, and alone with some guy. All of the people in the area were well aware of her, but playing it pretty cool. Until Star Fuckers 1&2 showed up. They sauntered up to her and introduced themselves and proceeded to make a spectacle of themselves by name-dropping themselves into some kind of B list celebrity frenzy. It was funny as hell. And I was by far too hung-over and sunburned to find much funny. But it also was icky. Oozy kind of icky.
In my mother's hometown (population around 300), they get celeb sightings at the main bar all of the time (certain people have homes/ranches in the area), and it's a point of pride not to bug the celebs when they are in the bar. It's just not done. And I kind of like that. No agenda- just letting these people behave normally.
Anyway- Dave Atell- funny guy, probably interesting to chat with, but not whilst surrounded by hundreds of drunken Seattlites. And seriously, people- suggesting that he go to the fucking Whisky bar? WTF! Do you not realize that the man has an affinity for cheap dives, and probably won't want to discuss the merits of single malt versus double with you? Dumbasses.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Final stretch- or so we thought
And now the fun part begins.
We got to the airport at around 9:30 AM- mostly just to get there, and to get into some air conditioned comfort. The cabbie was a nice man- not a bastard like the first night (yeah, I'm bitter...). We sat with a couple of our friends and had brunch- and I got to talk to a member of the Ferrari team- all about travel logistics. Seems that they travel with 100 or so team members, and plenty of them didn't know any English. There were lots of very short Italian men milling around where we were- all in matching Ferrari outfits. We also saw Michelin team members. It was pretty cool to discuss the race with the guy we spoke to- we found out some of the behind-the-scenes stuff.
Then we waited. Our flight to JFK was scheduled to leave at 1:30PM. We were on time and touched down with no incedent. We got to watch the MJ verdict live from the terminal- and I spent plenty of time watching people in our area.
The flight from JFK was delayed from the start. We took off about an hour late. No biggy, methought, but then it got interesting. Our seats were directly behind first class- and I had the best seat on the plane for the ensuing drama. I was on the aisle behind the bathroom- we were by the door.
Not too long after we reached cruising altitude, something odd happened. The flight crew were milling around the bathroom in front of me. I thought that it was broken- and some burly guy from 1st class looked in there (I thought he was an airline employee- but he was something else entirely). Then the burly guy locked the bathroom from the outside and returned to his seat.
The flight attendants were acting a little nervous- one of them was making a list of passengers on a napkin. I was thinking it was people who used the bathroom. Then the captain announced that we were diverting to Chicago to "deal with a little problem with the plane- it should take about 7 minutes." Right. The flight attendants were acting a little too jittery for it to be something little.
We landed very quickly- no dilly dallying around at all- also a little suspicious. Once on the ground, the burly guy and another burly guy revealed themselves to be fucking air marshals. They didn't let us move at all, and watched us all very closely. I saw emergency vehicles rushing out to our plane on a side runway. Dozens of them. It got very creepy at that point.
The bomb sniffing dog came on board- and promptly came right up to us. Nice dog, but I wasn't exactly interested in being friends. He sniffed Spouse's crotch and was pulled away. He smelled the bathroom and found nothing. A Chicago policewoman announced that a small electronic device had been found in the bathroom. No one confessed to owning it, so they decided to empty the plane to search it with the dogs.
We were the first off the plane after first class. As we left the plane, I saw what looked like around 50-75 law enforcement and fire people. We got on a bus and were shipped to the terminal. They also pulled about 10 people to question. We saw the FBI guys come through the door, and the people were returned to their families. It was creepy. They gave us water and snacks and we waited. We weren't sure if they would let us continue that night, or if we would be spending the night in Chicago.
Finally, at around 10:30 we were able to get back on the plane. By last name. Fucking A. We're pretty far down on the alphabet, so it wasn't fun.
Once in the air, we did ok- we got to finish watching the stupid zebra horse racing movie that was cut off earlier. And I will always think of this flight when I see Debra Messing- we watched that rent boy movie that she starred in as well. The flight crew was a little frayed, and the air marshalls were gone (they had outed themselves, so I presume they were pulled).
We got to Seattle around 1:00AM. Sadly, there was a group of people who were flying back to JFK that night. We got home around 2:30, and the adventure was over.
So I guess that I'm glad overall that they handled the whole thing well- we didn't get blown up. That's good. I could've used free drinks, and more than snacks, but they weren't offering. Stupid American Airlines. I think that we will probably shop around a bit more next time we fly.
In summation- the trip was fun- Montreal is cool (but temp wise not so much)- the F1 race was great- and my first flight since 1998 was dramatic.
We got to the airport at around 9:30 AM- mostly just to get there, and to get into some air conditioned comfort. The cabbie was a nice man- not a bastard like the first night (yeah, I'm bitter...). We sat with a couple of our friends and had brunch- and I got to talk to a member of the Ferrari team- all about travel logistics. Seems that they travel with 100 or so team members, and plenty of them didn't know any English. There were lots of very short Italian men milling around where we were- all in matching Ferrari outfits. We also saw Michelin team members. It was pretty cool to discuss the race with the guy we spoke to- we found out some of the behind-the-scenes stuff.
Then we waited. Our flight to JFK was scheduled to leave at 1:30PM. We were on time and touched down with no incedent. We got to watch the MJ verdict live from the terminal- and I spent plenty of time watching people in our area.
The flight from JFK was delayed from the start. We took off about an hour late. No biggy, methought, but then it got interesting. Our seats were directly behind first class- and I had the best seat on the plane for the ensuing drama. I was on the aisle behind the bathroom- we were by the door.
Not too long after we reached cruising altitude, something odd happened. The flight crew were milling around the bathroom in front of me. I thought that it was broken- and some burly guy from 1st class looked in there (I thought he was an airline employee- but he was something else entirely). Then the burly guy locked the bathroom from the outside and returned to his seat.
The flight attendants were acting a little nervous- one of them was making a list of passengers on a napkin. I was thinking it was people who used the bathroom. Then the captain announced that we were diverting to Chicago to "deal with a little problem with the plane- it should take about 7 minutes." Right. The flight attendants were acting a little too jittery for it to be something little.
We landed very quickly- no dilly dallying around at all- also a little suspicious. Once on the ground, the burly guy and another burly guy revealed themselves to be fucking air marshals. They didn't let us move at all, and watched us all very closely. I saw emergency vehicles rushing out to our plane on a side runway. Dozens of them. It got very creepy at that point.
The bomb sniffing dog came on board- and promptly came right up to us. Nice dog, but I wasn't exactly interested in being friends. He sniffed Spouse's crotch and was pulled away. He smelled the bathroom and found nothing. A Chicago policewoman announced that a small electronic device had been found in the bathroom. No one confessed to owning it, so they decided to empty the plane to search it with the dogs.
We were the first off the plane after first class. As we left the plane, I saw what looked like around 50-75 law enforcement and fire people. We got on a bus and were shipped to the terminal. They also pulled about 10 people to question. We saw the FBI guys come through the door, and the people were returned to their families. It was creepy. They gave us water and snacks and we waited. We weren't sure if they would let us continue that night, or if we would be spending the night in Chicago.
Finally, at around 10:30 we were able to get back on the plane. By last name. Fucking A. We're pretty far down on the alphabet, so it wasn't fun.
Once in the air, we did ok- we got to finish watching the stupid zebra horse racing movie that was cut off earlier. And I will always think of this flight when I see Debra Messing- we watched that rent boy movie that she starred in as well. The flight crew was a little frayed, and the air marshalls were gone (they had outed themselves, so I presume they were pulled).
We got to Seattle around 1:00AM. Sadly, there was a group of people who were flying back to JFK that night. We got home around 2:30, and the adventure was over.
So I guess that I'm glad overall that they handled the whole thing well- we didn't get blown up. That's good. I could've used free drinks, and more than snacks, but they weren't offering. Stupid American Airlines. I think that we will probably shop around a bit more next time we fly.
In summation- the trip was fun- Montreal is cool (but temp wise not so much)- the F1 race was great- and my first flight since 1998 was dramatic.
Day 3- Almost home
I should probably include the 3:00 AM communal shower (and no, I wasn't part of that action) as day 2, but it was officially on Sunday. The guys were yelling- I suspect that they were our drunken Canadians of Day 1. They were saying that they should just pee in the showers whilst taking a shower. I must say- ewww. Good thing that I wasn't using that bathroom- I was going down to the 3rd floor instead.
We got up pretty early in order to get to the track and watch some of the other races- the Ferrari Challenge was fun. Lots of smacking walls and eachother. Which is a shame when you consider that these were lovely cars and privately owned. But the guys have plenty of money, and seemed to enjoy the race.
Some things not seen on F1 TV coverage- they have a drive around when they introduce the drivers to the crowds. Our seats were good for this- we could stand up and see the vintage Austins that were lined up behind the stands in the old pit lane. I took some pics- I'll post some later, methinks.
So they also do this lame little UN walk about in the pit area that is on the jumbotron- thank God that they didn't walk the entire track- it would've taken all bloody day.
The weather was a little cooler- according to the Tivo'd coverage we've been watching, it was 92 degrees with 60+% humidity for days 1 & 2. But on race day it was breezy and cloudy. Nice.
The race itself was tremendously fun. A bit confusing since we're used to tv coverage, and it's kinda a challenge to keep track of the cars. But it was really cool.
Then comes fun. After the race, we broke through the fences and got on the track. Spouse got injured by a rebar post smacking him in the chest- I'll try to post a picture- if he cooperates. I also was in kinda bad shape by that time- my feet were badly blistered, and the heat was really tough on them. But we toughed it out.
There were over 120,000 people at the race- which I'm told broke attendance records. That makes sense, since the night before we walked around downtown and saw amazing crowds.
Post race we wandered the track, picked up some tire rubber and gradually filtered back to the downtown area where we met a great guy named Ahmed (our waiter) who was moving to NYC in 2 weeks. I wish him the best- he deserves it.
We drank fine French beer in the dorm hallway and crashed pretty early- we were all leaving at different times, and it was a long trip home.
We got up pretty early in order to get to the track and watch some of the other races- the Ferrari Challenge was fun. Lots of smacking walls and eachother. Which is a shame when you consider that these were lovely cars and privately owned. But the guys have plenty of money, and seemed to enjoy the race.
Some things not seen on F1 TV coverage- they have a drive around when they introduce the drivers to the crowds. Our seats were good for this- we could stand up and see the vintage Austins that were lined up behind the stands in the old pit lane. I took some pics- I'll post some later, methinks.
So they also do this lame little UN walk about in the pit area that is on the jumbotron- thank God that they didn't walk the entire track- it would've taken all bloody day.
The weather was a little cooler- according to the Tivo'd coverage we've been watching, it was 92 degrees with 60+% humidity for days 1 & 2. But on race day it was breezy and cloudy. Nice.
The race itself was tremendously fun. A bit confusing since we're used to tv coverage, and it's kinda a challenge to keep track of the cars. But it was really cool.
Then comes fun. After the race, we broke through the fences and got on the track. Spouse got injured by a rebar post smacking him in the chest- I'll try to post a picture- if he cooperates. I also was in kinda bad shape by that time- my feet were badly blistered, and the heat was really tough on them. But we toughed it out.
There were over 120,000 people at the race- which I'm told broke attendance records. That makes sense, since the night before we walked around downtown and saw amazing crowds.
Post race we wandered the track, picked up some tire rubber and gradually filtered back to the downtown area where we met a great guy named Ahmed (our waiter) who was moving to NYC in 2 weeks. I wish him the best- he deserves it.
We drank fine French beer in the dorm hallway and crashed pretty early- we were all leaving at different times, and it was a long trip home.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Day 2- Montreal
Ahh qualifying. We slept in- and missed the morning practice sessions. Ok by us, as I was feeling the sleep deprivition pretty badly by that point.
Afternoon qualifying was cool. We were with a couple of young boys, and their enthusiasm was fun to watch, along with the cars.
Afterwards, we took time out and went to the contemporary art museum. It was worth it. The older permanent collection was shit. Pretty staid, not very interesting, and derivative of more famous artists.
But the new acquisitions were tremendous. The musee has a tendency towards installation pieces and video. Pretty risky in some ways, and interesting. Some of the videos were lame. But what I noticed that was great was the whimsical and fun nature of a lot of the art exhibited. Really funny, good stuff.
There was an area dominated by about 4 seriously OCD artists, whose work made my head hurt when I thought about how many hours they spent putting it all together.
Then there was the goofiest and most fun piece of the show. You entered a room that was seemingly empty except for about 10 bike lights mounted on the walls on either side, and what appeared to be a video camera at the ceiling in front of the room. As you walked along, the lights flickered to life, and there was a humming sound. We didn't know what was triggering the lights, and got all goofy figuring it out. Then I had an epiphany. I went out and read the artist's statement. Here goes.
Seems that the artist, working with the Montreal Criminal Justice system, provided an outlet for people serving community service. They can clean the streets, or sit in the museum on exercise bikes in little rooms on either side of the main room, and power the lights. Yup. Soylent Green is made of people, people, and the art was powered by Montreal's finest misdemeanors. We were joking about just standing in there for an inordinant amount of time and pissing off the criminals. Then getting beaten on the street by an unknown assailant who recognized us from the closed-circuit camera. Goofy and fun.
Afternoon qualifying was cool. We were with a couple of young boys, and their enthusiasm was fun to watch, along with the cars.
Afterwards, we took time out and went to the contemporary art museum. It was worth it. The older permanent collection was shit. Pretty staid, not very interesting, and derivative of more famous artists.
But the new acquisitions were tremendous. The musee has a tendency towards installation pieces and video. Pretty risky in some ways, and interesting. Some of the videos were lame. But what I noticed that was great was the whimsical and fun nature of a lot of the art exhibited. Really funny, good stuff.
There was an area dominated by about 4 seriously OCD artists, whose work made my head hurt when I thought about how many hours they spent putting it all together.
Then there was the goofiest and most fun piece of the show. You entered a room that was seemingly empty except for about 10 bike lights mounted on the walls on either side, and what appeared to be a video camera at the ceiling in front of the room. As you walked along, the lights flickered to life, and there was a humming sound. We didn't know what was triggering the lights, and got all goofy figuring it out. Then I had an epiphany. I went out and read the artist's statement. Here goes.
Seems that the artist, working with the Montreal Criminal Justice system, provided an outlet for people serving community service. They can clean the streets, or sit in the museum on exercise bikes in little rooms on either side of the main room, and power the lights. Yup. Soylent Green is made of people, people, and the art was powered by Montreal's finest misdemeanors. We were joking about just standing in there for an inordinant amount of time and pissing off the criminals. Then getting beaten on the street by an unknown assailant who recognized us from the closed-circuit camera. Goofy and fun.
Day 1- Montreal
It was hot and hazy. And the University is at the top of the hill. And our dorm is at the top of the top of the hill. So we walked down the hill, got on the metro and went to the track. Montreal is pretty- I really liked it. The people, with the exception of the bastard cabby from the first night and the beeitch in the F1 shop who wouldn't lower her gouging prices after the race, were wonderful. And it didn't really matter that my French is pitiful- I tend to revert to an embarrasing combo of Russian, German, Spanish and idiocy when confronted with a foreign land. At least the volume of my voice doesn't go up to compensate...
Practice was wonderful. The cars are amazing. It's loud as hell, and the day was about 90 degrees, with around 70% humidity. But I wasn't complaining- it was just so much fun to see.
They also had other types of racing that weekend. We were able to see the pits for the other races- including a close-up look at a 53 Maserati that was driven up from LA with a team competing in the Ferrari Challenge. Lovely, lovely car, and great group of guys.
Practice was wonderful. The cars are amazing. It's loud as hell, and the day was about 90 degrees, with around 70% humidity. But I wasn't complaining- it was just so much fun to see.
They also had other types of racing that weekend. We were able to see the pits for the other races- including a close-up look at a 53 Maserati that was driven up from LA with a team competing in the Ferrari Challenge. Lovely, lovely car, and great group of guys.
Let's start at the beginning
I just got back from my 6th job interview (ye gods- when will it end???), and am ready to tell about our troubled, but fun vacation.
We left with high hopes last Thursday. We had a 2 hour layover in Chicago, and expected to be in Montreal by 11:00 PM or so. Well. I saw Morgan Freeman in the Seattle airport- that was nice. And I didn't make a starfucker ass of myself, I left him alone. The Seattle moving walkway told Spouse that "matter can be neither seated nor destroyed" - cryptic enough, but fine.
On our flight to Chicago there was a nasty florid little man who made an ass of himself when he wanted more than one canned beverege. We shunned him. I called him Princess pouty pants.
Then it got interesting. In Chicago, we found that our connecting flight to Montreal was delayed. By 4 hours. So our layover was 6 hours in duration- and we were shuttled off to the LAND THAT TIME FORGOT in the airport basement. We waited, and watched people, and I read almost 200 pages of Proust. When we finally got in the air, all was well.
We arrived in Montreal around 2:00 AM. Our friends were already asleep in the dorm of McGill University- where we were staying. It was really hot and muggy, and our cab driver ripped us off by charging too much to take us to the dorm. The fucker.
Once there, we made friends with the drunken Canadians at the door, and finally got to our room. It was on the 7th floor, aka "The Penthouse", and had one twin bed. And all along I thought that I would never have another dorm room sleepover! It was fine, though, as practice was the next day, and we would get to see the cars, track and drivers.
At 3:00 AM we finally slept. To awaken again at 8:00.
We left with high hopes last Thursday. We had a 2 hour layover in Chicago, and expected to be in Montreal by 11:00 PM or so. Well. I saw Morgan Freeman in the Seattle airport- that was nice. And I didn't make a starfucker ass of myself, I left him alone. The Seattle moving walkway told Spouse that "matter can be neither seated nor destroyed" - cryptic enough, but fine.
On our flight to Chicago there was a nasty florid little man who made an ass of himself when he wanted more than one canned beverege. We shunned him. I called him Princess pouty pants.
Then it got interesting. In Chicago, we found that our connecting flight to Montreal was delayed. By 4 hours. So our layover was 6 hours in duration- and we were shuttled off to the LAND THAT TIME FORGOT in the airport basement. We waited, and watched people, and I read almost 200 pages of Proust. When we finally got in the air, all was well.
We arrived in Montreal around 2:00 AM. Our friends were already asleep in the dorm of McGill University- where we were staying. It was really hot and muggy, and our cab driver ripped us off by charging too much to take us to the dorm. The fucker.
Once there, we made friends with the drunken Canadians at the door, and finally got to our room. It was on the 7th floor, aka "The Penthouse", and had one twin bed. And all along I thought that I would never have another dorm room sleepover! It was fine, though, as practice was the next day, and we would get to see the cars, track and drivers.
At 3:00 AM we finally slept. To awaken again at 8:00.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Yeah- this was our flight
'Suspicious' radio diverts flight
CHICAGO -- An American Airlines jet flying from New York to Seattle was diverted to Chicago yesterday evening after a "suspicious item" was found on board.
It turned out to be a radio.
A passenger saw the radio in one of the plane's restrooms and told a flight attendant, said Chicago police spokesman David Banks. The police bomb and arson unit and the FBI inspected the item and determined it was "an older-looking Walkman-type radio," Banks said.
"It was a big to-do over nothing," Banks said. "If it weren't so serious, it would be laughable."
The 158 passengers and six crew members were evacuated from the plane after it landed in Chicago at 8:30 p.m., said American Airlines spokeswoman Mary Frances Fagan.
Flight 289 originated from New York's John F. Kennedy International Airport.
After the plane was searched at O'Hare International Airport, Fagan said passengers returned to it and continued their journey.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
And just in time for vacation
It's probably the nicest fuck you I've ever gotten, but nevertheless, it's a gentle fuck you:
Thanks for checking in, (Couchkitten). I very much appreciate your enthusiasm! At this point, we are still exploring our options, and it may be that we need to look for someone with more direct high-level project management. Please know that we very much enjoyed our meeting with you and have not ruled out all possibilities. I anticipate it will take us 30 - 45 days to come to a decision about which direction we will take. I will keep you updated.
That's 5 for 5.
I go slinking up to Montreal- looking for trouble like the embittered soccer hooligan that I am.
Thanks for checking in, (Couchkitten). I very much appreciate your enthusiasm! At this point, we are still exploring our options, and it may be that we need to look for someone with more direct high-level project management. Please know that we very much enjoyed our meeting with you and have not ruled out all possibilities. I anticipate it will take us 30 - 45 days to come to a decision about which direction we will take. I will keep you updated.
That's 5 for 5.
I go slinking up to Montreal- looking for trouble like the embittered soccer hooligan that I am.
Yeah, well yeah
We are going to Canada, Oh Canada tomorrow. So since I'm not taking a computer, I'll not be blogging until next week. Just think happy thoughts.
And one more reference
To porn- then I think I'll stop for the week. I just pick a theme and run with it. What can I say- I'm inspired.
Spouse had a friend who found a porn mag with the perfect title at the (get this) used porn section in a Missoula book store. (those of you who were there know whereof I speak- don't feign ignorance!)
It was called: Backseat Bullmeat. It featured naked chicks in the back seats of cars with steaks. And other cuts of meat. I kid you not. It existed. And I would pay money on ebay to find it. Just for the cultural significance. And because it would make me laugh really, really hard. And according to the Reader's Digest laughter is the best medicine.
Enjoy the mental image! I know that I sure will!
Spouse had a friend who found a porn mag with the perfect title at the (get this) used porn section in a Missoula book store. (those of you who were there know whereof I speak- don't feign ignorance!)
It was called: Backseat Bullmeat. It featured naked chicks in the back seats of cars with steaks. And other cuts of meat. I kid you not. It existed. And I would pay money on ebay to find it. Just for the cultural significance. And because it would make me laugh really, really hard. And according to the Reader's Digest laughter is the best medicine.
Enjoy the mental image! I know that I sure will!
And if you think I'm some kind of freak
Well, yeah, I really am. But I was thinking about my porn post of yesterday. It's not like I'm an aficianado of porn. Far from it. Really.
But there is a long history of porn- and I've gotta share some of what I learned in college. Or it's lost. What's the point of an art history degree if I don't inflict it on others? Huh? Got a witty answer for that, bub?
Anyway- I took a seminar in 19th Century art. We started with the very early 19th Century- and discussed printing. I found out all about Rowlandson and Gillroy- 2 very prominent printmakers. Legend has it that they were prodigious pornographers too. And George IV was a fan. He had a large collection in one of the palaces- let's for convenience say Windsor.
When in the 1840s, Queen Victoria became ruler, she was going through the prints in the royal collection. Legend has it that she found her uncle's "Collection", and had it burned. That's not to say that she was a tremendous prude- she really wasn't. In her diaries she's quite frank about her love of congugal relations. And she had some rather steamy paintings in her private rooms. But what she didn't like about Rowlandson's prints was the fact that quite a few of them featured her uncle- George IV and his mistresses. I have to say that the ick factor would be high for me too. I'm not sure if this is all true- but it's kind of a fun story. Feel free to use it at parties. You won't be shunned! Really!!!
But there is a long history of porn- and I've gotta share some of what I learned in college. Or it's lost. What's the point of an art history degree if I don't inflict it on others? Huh? Got a witty answer for that, bub?
Anyway- I took a seminar in 19th Century art. We started with the very early 19th Century- and discussed printing. I found out all about Rowlandson and Gillroy- 2 very prominent printmakers. Legend has it that they were prodigious pornographers too. And George IV was a fan. He had a large collection in one of the palaces- let's for convenience say Windsor.
When in the 1840s, Queen Victoria became ruler, she was going through the prints in the royal collection. Legend has it that she found her uncle's "Collection", and had it burned. That's not to say that she was a tremendous prude- she really wasn't. In her diaries she's quite frank about her love of congugal relations. And she had some rather steamy paintings in her private rooms. But what she didn't like about Rowlandson's prints was the fact that quite a few of them featured her uncle- George IV and his mistresses. I have to say that the ick factor would be high for me too. I'm not sure if this is all true- but it's kind of a fun story. Feel free to use it at parties. You won't be shunned! Really!!!
History is cool
I just read about how they found an unknown piece of music by J.S. Bach in a private library in Weimar, Germany. What's so cool about this story is that they found it days before the library was destroyed by fire. So if they hadn't found it, the fire would've destroyed it.
I just think it's so cool the these kinds of things can still happen. That libraries and archives exist that house lost documents. And someone gets to find them. I've heard stories from a friend about this very kind of thing. He found a letter in a European archive that proved some important points for him- and he was the first person to have ever found it. I think it was hidden in another document, as I remember it. Imagine the excitement! And yes, I know for a fact that I am a geek. There never was any question!
I just think it's so cool the these kinds of things can still happen. That libraries and archives exist that house lost documents. And someone gets to find them. I've heard stories from a friend about this very kind of thing. He found a letter in a European archive that proved some important points for him- and he was the first person to have ever found it. I think it was hidden in another document, as I remember it. Imagine the excitement! And yes, I know for a fact that I am a geek. There never was any question!
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Strange goings on
And on another front- the internet is an odd place. Seems Spouse and a friend were looking at motorcycles online yesterday. Who am I to judge- I spend all day reading about celebrity crap...sigh...
And what does he discover? A vintage porn site, that's what. Yup. Vintage porn. Like from the 20s. And some pretty graphic stuff. I expected to see Victorian French postcards and all, but this was raunchy stuff. I've read enough James Ellroy to know about how nasty Hollywood was back in the day- but to see it in the flesh, so to speak, was interesting...and kind of disturbing...Somewhere out there is a legendary blue film starring a young Joan Crawford. I've seen stills from that, and am not too convinced that it's her- the woman involved looks not so much like her...but then I've not seen her in that, shall we say, condition before, so could be mistaken.
Anyhoo- just wanted to tell someone all about it.
And no, I'm not upset that he looked at it, I would've done the same thing in his place- who can NOT look at vintage porn when it's offered? Be honest!
And what does he discover? A vintage porn site, that's what. Yup. Vintage porn. Like from the 20s. And some pretty graphic stuff. I expected to see Victorian French postcards and all, but this was raunchy stuff. I've read enough James Ellroy to know about how nasty Hollywood was back in the day- but to see it in the flesh, so to speak, was interesting...and kind of disturbing...Somewhere out there is a legendary blue film starring a young Joan Crawford. I've seen stills from that, and am not too convinced that it's her- the woman involved looks not so much like her...but then I've not seen her in that, shall we say, condition before, so could be mistaken.
Anyhoo- just wanted to tell someone all about it.
And no, I'm not upset that he looked at it, I would've done the same thing in his place- who can NOT look at vintage porn when it's offered? Be honest!
Car chases
CNN has devoted the ENTIRE morning to some stupid CA car chase. You'd think that I was watching the local LA station, not national news. Must be a really slow news day. They've been talking to a hostage negotiator for over an hour. I'm kind of tuning it out. But it's stupid.
I'm waiting for the Michael Jackson verdict. That will be entertainment enough for the rest of the week. After all, the Deep Throat thing went on for a week. It's all part of the insatiable quest for novelty. Information innovation. Feed me more, more, more. Gone are the days where I could sit in front of the daytime game shows and Oprah and feel all happy. (remember Match Game 76, anyone?)
Anyhew, Chuck Roberts and Linda Stouffer have important things to tell me. Gotta go.
I'm waiting for the Michael Jackson verdict. That will be entertainment enough for the rest of the week. After all, the Deep Throat thing went on for a week. It's all part of the insatiable quest for novelty. Information innovation. Feed me more, more, more. Gone are the days where I could sit in front of the daytime game shows and Oprah and feel all happy. (remember Match Game 76, anyone?)
Anyhew, Chuck Roberts and Linda Stouffer have important things to tell me. Gotta go.
Comeuppance
And for once not for me.
So it seems that a certain, rather unpopular person at the old job got the axe yesterday. Seems that she returned from vacation and found herself on permanent vacation (seems to be a bit of a pattern). She tried to take on the wrong person. She had been gunning for the Marketing director for some time- and I told her it was a mistake. But she couldn't do that. The other moral to this story is that she had been shucking job duties for some time (while proclaiming herself "too busy" to do them). That's a sure-fire way to become professionally obsolete. Right quicklike too. And then there was her habit of gunning for people on the staff who she saw as easy targets. I had a real problem with that, and spent a LOT of time shielding people from her. And covering my back. I expected the stilletto any time. And since she had the boss's ear back then, it wasn't sheer paranoia. It was the kind of esp that you develop by being in political hothouse job environments for long enough.
I hear via the grapevine that her fatal mistake was that she was banging the video intern. That's what I'm told. And that's really, really stupid. She probably was deluded enough at that point to think that she was a)indespensable, and b)untouchable.
And sadly, I do kinda feel sorry for her. I'm still pissed at her role in canning a very good friend of mine, but I think that the saddest thing of all is that she will never learn from her mistakes. I just don't think that she has the capacity to go through the self-reflection necessary to figure out how she helped produce the situation. She is just too self-rightous and defensive.
So it seems that a certain, rather unpopular person at the old job got the axe yesterday. Seems that she returned from vacation and found herself on permanent vacation (seems to be a bit of a pattern). She tried to take on the wrong person. She had been gunning for the Marketing director for some time- and I told her it was a mistake. But she couldn't do that. The other moral to this story is that she had been shucking job duties for some time (while proclaiming herself "too busy" to do them). That's a sure-fire way to become professionally obsolete. Right quicklike too. And then there was her habit of gunning for people on the staff who she saw as easy targets. I had a real problem with that, and spent a LOT of time shielding people from her. And covering my back. I expected the stilletto any time. And since she had the boss's ear back then, it wasn't sheer paranoia. It was the kind of esp that you develop by being in political hothouse job environments for long enough.
I hear via the grapevine that her fatal mistake was that she was banging the video intern. That's what I'm told. And that's really, really stupid. She probably was deluded enough at that point to think that she was a)indespensable, and b)untouchable.
And sadly, I do kinda feel sorry for her. I'm still pissed at her role in canning a very good friend of mine, but I think that the saddest thing of all is that she will never learn from her mistakes. I just don't think that she has the capacity to go through the self-reflection necessary to figure out how she helped produce the situation. She is just too self-rightous and defensive.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Wind up on a happy note
This week we go to Montreal for the F1 race. I get to see my Michael in action. It's supposed to be cloudy- so sunburns aren't necessarily the accessory du jour (see I'm practicing my French!).
Bitterly we roll along
I am in one of those moods today. I must apologize- once again you've been warned.
I was thinking about one of the last evil friends that I had the misfortune of making. Back in the day. The moral to this story is - never, never, never make a friend of a client. It will bite you in the ass. Especially if she is somewhat psychotic.
So we were building a site for this particular specimen of vanishing sanity. She was a handful. She would call at least 4-5 times/day and want to have lengthy discussions about nothing in particular with whomever answered the phone. I stepped into this one by being the phone answerer. And we chatted. And then she started using my email account as her instant messenger. Thank GOD I never actually got onto IM with her- it would've doomed me.
So as things developed, she was funny, witty and very obsessed with celebrities. (gotta hand it to her- she had met a few- but over time, she did trot out those encounters and bleed them for every bit of significance possible). I just figured that she was very lonely, didn't know anyone in town, and would be a decent friend.
Well. Things got hairy after a while. She became a full-time occupation. Not only did I have to deal with her at work, while trying to function fully- but she insisted on an hour long phone call after work to recap the day. It was like having my own needy wife. And it got to me. If I was busy with something and couldn't talk to her about the nail polish she found that day, she got snippy. It was not so good.
I'll finish the saga later- I'm getting a little pissed off. It wasn't all fun and games! Remember- beware the client friendship....
I was thinking about one of the last evil friends that I had the misfortune of making. Back in the day. The moral to this story is - never, never, never make a friend of a client. It will bite you in the ass. Especially if she is somewhat psychotic.
So we were building a site for this particular specimen of vanishing sanity. She was a handful. She would call at least 4-5 times/day and want to have lengthy discussions about nothing in particular with whomever answered the phone. I stepped into this one by being the phone answerer. And we chatted. And then she started using my email account as her instant messenger. Thank GOD I never actually got onto IM with her- it would've doomed me.
So as things developed, she was funny, witty and very obsessed with celebrities. (gotta hand it to her- she had met a few- but over time, she did trot out those encounters and bleed them for every bit of significance possible). I just figured that she was very lonely, didn't know anyone in town, and would be a decent friend.
Well. Things got hairy after a while. She became a full-time occupation. Not only did I have to deal with her at work, while trying to function fully- but she insisted on an hour long phone call after work to recap the day. It was like having my own needy wife. And it got to me. If I was busy with something and couldn't talk to her about the nail polish she found that day, she got snippy. It was not so good.
I'll finish the saga later- I'm getting a little pissed off. It wasn't all fun and games! Remember- beware the client friendship....
Boats, boats, boats
One of our favorite pasttimes is to go to the Ballard Locks. And watch the show. It's cool to see the different boats- we have our eye on a circa 1954 Chris Craft that is about the sweetest thing afloat.
Our other favorite hobby whist watching the boats it to judge people by the names of their crafts. It's fun. The best was a boat called Jagermeister. You figure out the demographic represented there....yup. Probably some kind of Microsoftian marketing/sales/software kinda guy- he was in chinos, with a beer in mighty moneyed fist. Love it.
Spoiled Rotten was a middle aged couple- she was blond and kind of reddened, he was a tad large. They seemed to be relatively happy. Good for them. I wasn't overly impressed.
We decided that we should get a boat just for the sheer joy of naming it. We don't really want a boat- I don't swim for shit, and don't really like the water. And I burn very easily, so don't do sun. (someday I'll probably trot out the melanoma story on a slow news day- you've been warned). But we came up with the following. The SS Crack Whore- there actually was an SS Crack Whore- she was a mighty aluminum boat with a hole in her starboard side. There were plans afoot to fix her using a PBR can or two. But she was stolen from our friend Jason's back yard. The bastards. I hope they sank.
Another good name: The Ron Jeremy (he deserves immortality of a different, more respectable sort), Dirty Sanchez (I really don't want to go into details, but it's nasty- and those who watch South Park might enjoy the reference), Pooter Palace ( I just made it up), The Bite Me, the Depends (just made that one up too- god I amuse myself...), and I forget the rest. Needless to say, we laughed a lot...sigh...then went back to bitterly bickering about who should drive home. (not really- the bickering part I just made up for dramatic effect.)
Our other favorite hobby whist watching the boats it to judge people by the names of their crafts. It's fun. The best was a boat called Jagermeister. You figure out the demographic represented there....yup. Probably some kind of Microsoftian marketing/sales/software kinda guy- he was in chinos, with a beer in mighty moneyed fist. Love it.
Spoiled Rotten was a middle aged couple- she was blond and kind of reddened, he was a tad large. They seemed to be relatively happy. Good for them. I wasn't overly impressed.
We decided that we should get a boat just for the sheer joy of naming it. We don't really want a boat- I don't swim for shit, and don't really like the water. And I burn very easily, so don't do sun. (someday I'll probably trot out the melanoma story on a slow news day- you've been warned). But we came up with the following. The SS Crack Whore- there actually was an SS Crack Whore- she was a mighty aluminum boat with a hole in her starboard side. There were plans afoot to fix her using a PBR can or two. But she was stolen from our friend Jason's back yard. The bastards. I hope they sank.
Another good name: The Ron Jeremy (he deserves immortality of a different, more respectable sort), Dirty Sanchez (I really don't want to go into details, but it's nasty- and those who watch South Park might enjoy the reference), Pooter Palace ( I just made it up), The Bite Me, the Depends (just made that one up too- god I amuse myself...), and I forget the rest. Needless to say, we laughed a lot...sigh...then went back to bitterly bickering about who should drive home. (not really- the bickering part I just made up for dramatic effect.)
Saturday, June 04, 2005
James Bond
On the Starz network they're playing a James Bond film fest. We're up to The Spy Who Loved Me, and deep into the Roger Moore ouvre. I gotta say- I'm diggin the 70s vibe.
The last one The Man W/ the Golden Gun was my favorite as a child. We saw it at the drive in theater. We never missed the opportunity to see James Bond at the drive in. I would sit in the back seat with my sister- in our pyjamas, on my sleeping bag, and watch. Actually, she usually fell asleep. I remember watching people go by with flashlights. And I remember the best part was going to the bathrooms. It was cool out and dark, and the kiosk smelled like popcorn. The walls were a lurid kind of red. And I remember a poster for a horror flick about ants one time. It was dangerous feeling. I often got to go by myself when I was a little older. It was kind of scary coming back and trying to remember where the car was.
So, one of the things that occurred to me whilst watching this movie is how terribly throw-away the women are as characters. There is one main Bond girl, and the rest are like the red shirted men in Star Trek- total fodder. You know that they're trying to bust James Bond's balls. That they are probably on the other side. If not, they're just a quickie. And if they get killed, well, pity. But no big deal. Does that make James a total sociopath? That he can kill or witness killing without any visible signs of emotion? That he basically doesn't give a shit? What a hero. I'll take one without ice water in his veins, please!
The last one The Man W/ the Golden Gun was my favorite as a child. We saw it at the drive in theater. We never missed the opportunity to see James Bond at the drive in. I would sit in the back seat with my sister- in our pyjamas, on my sleeping bag, and watch. Actually, she usually fell asleep. I remember watching people go by with flashlights. And I remember the best part was going to the bathrooms. It was cool out and dark, and the kiosk smelled like popcorn. The walls were a lurid kind of red. And I remember a poster for a horror flick about ants one time. It was dangerous feeling. I often got to go by myself when I was a little older. It was kind of scary coming back and trying to remember where the car was.
So, one of the things that occurred to me whilst watching this movie is how terribly throw-away the women are as characters. There is one main Bond girl, and the rest are like the red shirted men in Star Trek- total fodder. You know that they're trying to bust James Bond's balls. That they are probably on the other side. If not, they're just a quickie. And if they get killed, well, pity. But no big deal. Does that make James a total sociopath? That he can kill or witness killing without any visible signs of emotion? That he basically doesn't give a shit? What a hero. I'll take one without ice water in his veins, please!
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Image from Hawaii
My mother and I went to Hawaii in the mid-80s. While we were in Honolulu, we decided to walk from our first hotel to the Ala Muana mall. As we strolled along, during the warm afternoon, we passed what I remember as either a storm ditch or an overpass. There was a homeless man with his shopping cart hunkered down next to the ditch, close to the sidewalk. I hadn't seen many homeless people yet- there just weren't many in Montana in January- or any time then.
What really stuck in my memory was that it was probably in the upper 70s, and he was wearing a down jacket. And his shopping cart was filled with bread bags. No bread, but just the bags. His jacket was black.
The juxtaposition of homeless and Hawaiian paradise really shocked me. I had to look at the whole thing for the first time in my life. We saw more in a later trip to Mexico- but this was something that I didn't expect to see in a place like that. And it made me really uncomfortable. And helpless. There was nothing I could do for him. Not a damned thing.
What really stuck in my memory was that it was probably in the upper 70s, and he was wearing a down jacket. And his shopping cart was filled with bread bags. No bread, but just the bags. His jacket was black.
The juxtaposition of homeless and Hawaiian paradise really shocked me. I had to look at the whole thing for the first time in my life. We saw more in a later trip to Mexico- but this was something that I didn't expect to see in a place like that. And it made me really uncomfortable. And helpless. There was nothing I could do for him. Not a damned thing.
Jane Fonda = the Antichrist
Yeah- I've received a chain letter from my mother. All about how evil Jane is. People sure get worked up about Jane. I'm not old enough to remember what she did in the same way- I do know that there are plenty of urban myths about her actions- not all of the stories are accurate. More's the pity. It's a shame I think that she is being held so responsible for actions made when she was young, and certainly a dumb ass. I wonder why everyone else isn't held to that particular standard. I wonder if the guys who acted inproperly at My Lai are still remembered for their actions. I wonder if any of the other celebrity protesters are still remembered for their stances...I kinda think not. And it's a shame that despite her apologies, she cannot be forgiven. It's kind of like she's on the same level as Hitler. No amount of contrition will ever be enough. That makes me sad. I think, as a country, we can afford to be more charitable than that. Yes, her actions hurt. But she's still part of the family, so to speak. And despite the hurt she caused, if she is sorry, she should be forgiven.
I am very glad that I didn't do anything seriously fucked up when I was in my early 20s- I would hate to have that kind of thing hanging over me for the rest of my life. Especially if it was public. I think that 40 years is really long enough to punish someone. Many serious criminals don't do that much time in prison, and they are considered rehabilitated when they are released. And if they don't do anything else for the rest of their lives, they are thought to have paid their debts to society. So what is worse- someone who committed manslaughter, or someone who was used for treasonous propeganda? I dunno. I am not on that jury. I refuse to be that judge. It just makes me sad. I don't like to hear that kind of anger in my mother's voice. Especially towards a woman she'll never know, whose actions were ill-considered but not overtly illegal.
I am very glad that I didn't do anything seriously fucked up when I was in my early 20s- I would hate to have that kind of thing hanging over me for the rest of my life. Especially if it was public. I think that 40 years is really long enough to punish someone. Many serious criminals don't do that much time in prison, and they are considered rehabilitated when they are released. And if they don't do anything else for the rest of their lives, they are thought to have paid their debts to society. So what is worse- someone who committed manslaughter, or someone who was used for treasonous propeganda? I dunno. I am not on that jury. I refuse to be that judge. It just makes me sad. I don't like to hear that kind of anger in my mother's voice. Especially towards a woman she'll never know, whose actions were ill-considered but not overtly illegal.
Job interview
It seemed to go very well. I really liked the two people I met. I felt like I would really fit the job, and could handle it. Like it was the natural extension of where I was at the last job. I hope that they consider me seriously for it. I dunno, though. I'm getting a little discouraged, as I can't seem to read those situations very accurately any more. I can only hope. And yes, I sent my thank you notes. This very afternoon. And I emailed references within an hour of my interview. So we'll see. This one I really, really want though. And that makes it kind of scary.
Good times, good times
So now that the latest round of interviewing is out of da way, I can plunge headlong into stuff again. Like reading. It's fundamental, don't cha know?!
I picked up a copy of the newest translation of Swann's Way the other day. Lovely. It is indeed superior to Moncrieff's version. Now, that particular brand of snobbishness out of the way, we can proceed, dear reader. I'm going for a kind of parallel histoical biographical kind of thingy. In 1996 I was fired in the hot, nasty month of June (in Tempe, it is truly an evil time of year). Spouse was in Portland at an internship. So I was adrift. With no income besides unemployment benefits, and a library card, and without air conditioning. It was not a highlight of my life. Between watching late night Star Trek re-runs and daytime Telemundo soap operas, there just wasn't much going on.
So, I devised a plan. I read classics. Like they were going out of style. I read War and Peace (great but for the last 100 or so pages of recap- Tolstoy seemed to kind of go off on a rant for a while- where was his editor, exactly?), The Brothers Karamazov (just didn't make me all that happy- in fact made me want to put a bullet in my temple- let's not relive that unpleasantness), Gravity's Rainbow (Pynchon is one fucked up dude- seriously...), and finally, Remembrance of Things Past volumes 1-6. I found that I really loved Proust. Beyond all others. And I have always loved to read. Many books have had a profound impact on my personal zeitgeist at certain stages in life. And this was no exception.
It was a long, somewhat unhappy summer- and despite my fascination for Erik Estrada in the Two Women, One Road soap opera, there just wasn't a lot happening.
So- now that I'm still unemployed, I thought it would be kinda cool to re-visit my hero, Marcel. And see how it goes. So far, it's like a warm bath. Delicious. I love the man. Pity he's dead.
And I'm far from miserable this time around. Bored, certainly, frustrated by the lack of job offers, absolutely. A tad miffed about it all- well perhaps. But not desolate. Lots of water under that particular bridge makes it all much easier to handle.
Enough. I'll not go into the whole mysticism of the Madeline cookie kind of thing. I'll save that for another time. Bet you can't wait!
I picked up a copy of the newest translation of Swann's Way the other day. Lovely. It is indeed superior to Moncrieff's version. Now, that particular brand of snobbishness out of the way, we can proceed, dear reader. I'm going for a kind of parallel histoical biographical kind of thingy. In 1996 I was fired in the hot, nasty month of June (in Tempe, it is truly an evil time of year). Spouse was in Portland at an internship. So I was adrift. With no income besides unemployment benefits, and a library card, and without air conditioning. It was not a highlight of my life. Between watching late night Star Trek re-runs and daytime Telemundo soap operas, there just wasn't much going on.
So, I devised a plan. I read classics. Like they were going out of style. I read War and Peace (great but for the last 100 or so pages of recap- Tolstoy seemed to kind of go off on a rant for a while- where was his editor, exactly?), The Brothers Karamazov (just didn't make me all that happy- in fact made me want to put a bullet in my temple- let's not relive that unpleasantness), Gravity's Rainbow (Pynchon is one fucked up dude- seriously...), and finally, Remembrance of Things Past volumes 1-6. I found that I really loved Proust. Beyond all others. And I have always loved to read. Many books have had a profound impact on my personal zeitgeist at certain stages in life. And this was no exception.
It was a long, somewhat unhappy summer- and despite my fascination for Erik Estrada in the Two Women, One Road soap opera, there just wasn't a lot happening.
So- now that I'm still unemployed, I thought it would be kinda cool to re-visit my hero, Marcel. And see how it goes. So far, it's like a warm bath. Delicious. I love the man. Pity he's dead.
And I'm far from miserable this time around. Bored, certainly, frustrated by the lack of job offers, absolutely. A tad miffed about it all- well perhaps. But not desolate. Lots of water under that particular bridge makes it all much easier to handle.
Enough. I'll not go into the whole mysticism of the Madeline cookie kind of thing. I'll save that for another time. Bet you can't wait!
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Long weekend hangover of the soul
Well, it's not like I needed a weekend away from work, or anything. But it was nice to have Spouse in the house for a few days of doing blissful nothing.
Not like anything profoundly exciting happened.
But a few observations-
-protect your hearing. Our good friend has trouble now (probably due to Iron Maiden- he didn't say) and it sucks.
-I have to admit to a shortcoming- I have never, never been able to fully distinguish between The Smiths and The Cure. Yeah, I know there's a difference. And I usually do well when I guess The Cure, since they get more airplay. But unless I'm very familiar with the song, I don't hear the difference. Lame, indeed.
-Cabbage, whilst being the subject of my sole remembered sentence of conversational Russian, makes me a tad gassy. Sorry, Spouse. You were warned, though.
-Reno 911 is a very funny show. Love it, love it , love it. According to sources of mine in the Bozeman Police Dept, the boys (and girls) in blue like it plenty.
-My cat Timmy looks more like a seal than ever before. He is losing his legs- they are being swallowed by his expanding torso. I need to figure out how he's accessing the extra calories. Before we end up with a sea mammal in the house.
-I'm probably the only person in cyberspace who doesn't have an opinion about a) Lindsey Lohan's weight, or b)whether or not Tom Cruise is really in love with Katie Holmes. I guess it just doesn't matter.
-and finally, there's a game called Sudoku- that's bloody addictive. Nastily so. And now I must play some more.
Not like anything profoundly exciting happened.
But a few observations-
-protect your hearing. Our good friend has trouble now (probably due to Iron Maiden- he didn't say) and it sucks.
-I have to admit to a shortcoming- I have never, never been able to fully distinguish between The Smiths and The Cure. Yeah, I know there's a difference. And I usually do well when I guess The Cure, since they get more airplay. But unless I'm very familiar with the song, I don't hear the difference. Lame, indeed.
-Cabbage, whilst being the subject of my sole remembered sentence of conversational Russian, makes me a tad gassy. Sorry, Spouse. You were warned, though.
-Reno 911 is a very funny show. Love it, love it , love it. According to sources of mine in the Bozeman Police Dept, the boys (and girls) in blue like it plenty.
-My cat Timmy looks more like a seal than ever before. He is losing his legs- they are being swallowed by his expanding torso. I need to figure out how he's accessing the extra calories. Before we end up with a sea mammal in the house.
-I'm probably the only person in cyberspace who doesn't have an opinion about a) Lindsey Lohan's weight, or b)whether or not Tom Cruise is really in love with Katie Holmes. I guess it just doesn't matter.
-and finally, there's a game called Sudoku- that's bloody addictive. Nastily so. And now I must play some more.
Friday, May 27, 2005
More on the Monkey man
Do you know the monkey man, the monkey man, the monkey man?
Yes, I know the monkey man- who lives on Elliott Drive!
So, after the creepy crawling incedent, we kept our distance from the monkey man. Then Spouse's sister moved in when Brian moved out. And things took an ominous turn.
We came home one day to find the window on the front door broken, and a bloody handprint on the door frame. Someone had come into the apartment- looked around and left. Nothing was missing.
There was a trail of blood to the backdoor of the house next door, where the door had been kicked in. (Monkey man lived there).
We called the police, and they took the monkey man away. Seemed that he had a history of breaking into apartments in the area. The woman who lived in the front part of his house woke up one night to find him sitting on her bed stroking her thigh. Seems he liked Spouse's sister- a lot.
And another creepy thing about that apartment- there was a woman in the basement apartment named Brittany. Brittany borrowed $5 from Spouse. Then we came home the next morning, and the kids next door (children of the accosted woman) were playing with Brittany's things. They said, "Brittany died." Seems that Brittany used the $5 to buy a large bottle of Tylenol. Then she took the whole damned thing. Suffered renal failure and died. Just like that. Creepy, no?
And another thing- this proves that Missoula was a tad too small- one of my ex boyfriends lived below Spouse for a while before I dated either of them. The fact that they knew eachother (and weren't friends, thank the gods) is pretty high on my ick factor...It was really good to move to a place where I knew no one...call it a palate cleanser.
Yes, I know the monkey man- who lives on Elliott Drive!
So, after the creepy crawling incedent, we kept our distance from the monkey man. Then Spouse's sister moved in when Brian moved out. And things took an ominous turn.
We came home one day to find the window on the front door broken, and a bloody handprint on the door frame. Someone had come into the apartment- looked around and left. Nothing was missing.
There was a trail of blood to the backdoor of the house next door, where the door had been kicked in. (Monkey man lived there).
We called the police, and they took the monkey man away. Seemed that he had a history of breaking into apartments in the area. The woman who lived in the front part of his house woke up one night to find him sitting on her bed stroking her thigh. Seems he liked Spouse's sister- a lot.
And another creepy thing about that apartment- there was a woman in the basement apartment named Brittany. Brittany borrowed $5 from Spouse. Then we came home the next morning, and the kids next door (children of the accosted woman) were playing with Brittany's things. They said, "Brittany died." Seems that Brittany used the $5 to buy a large bottle of Tylenol. Then she took the whole damned thing. Suffered renal failure and died. Just like that. Creepy, no?
And another thing- this proves that Missoula was a tad too small- one of my ex boyfriends lived below Spouse for a while before I dated either of them. The fact that they knew eachother (and weren't friends, thank the gods) is pretty high on my ick factor...It was really good to move to a place where I knew no one...call it a palate cleanser.
Interpret this
And it doesn't have to be through the media of dance- or lyric poetry. Please.
I had a dream- it was an awesome dream-
There were two bald eagles circling over our yard (it happens here- seriously)- and the younger one bit the older one at the base of his skull, and killed him. He fell to the ground and landed in our yard. I didn't want to touch him- I didn't feel right about it. He was enormous. Too big to fit in the refrigerator. And why did that thought occur to me? I dunno- it was a dream dammit.
Then I woke up. And my eye itched. I thought it was the pink eye- but it wasn't. I was traumatized last year when I got the pink eye. It was perhaps the nastiest ailment I have had since adolescence.
Anywhooo- just felt like sharing.
I had a dream- it was an awesome dream-
There were two bald eagles circling over our yard (it happens here- seriously)- and the younger one bit the older one at the base of his skull, and killed him. He fell to the ground and landed in our yard. I didn't want to touch him- I didn't feel right about it. He was enormous. Too big to fit in the refrigerator. And why did that thought occur to me? I dunno- it was a dream dammit.
Then I woke up. And my eye itched. I thought it was the pink eye- but it wasn't. I was traumatized last year when I got the pink eye. It was perhaps the nastiest ailment I have had since adolescence.
Anywhooo- just felt like sharing.
OK- I have an answer
Trisha= 3rd marriage, Garth =2nd. That wasn't gonna keep me up all night, but I was vexed with the mixed signals that CNN was sending.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Dumbest thing of the day
And no, I'm not talking about my adventure on Fauntleroy this afternoon (damned street- tricked me, it did!). On CNN I heard the story of some Star Wars fans who hurt themselves attempting to relive the Vader/Kenobi battle. With light sabers they made using fluorescent tubes and liquid fuel. Funny- they exploded, and these dumbasses were hurt. HAHA I say! That's what you get for fucking with the force. Dumbasses. The force isn't there for your amusement- it deserves respect. Or you WILL be hurt. Or sent on a long superfluous drive into Seattle downtown via Fauntleroy.
Also in the news- I guess that Trisha Yearwood and Garth Brooks got engaged. Yawn. But what I wanna know is this- CNN has reported that it's her 2nd or 3rd marriage, and his 2nd or 3rd marriage- what is it? I'm all confused and want accuracy with my reporting. Dammit.
Also in the news- I guess that Trisha Yearwood and Garth Brooks got engaged. Yawn. But what I wanna know is this- CNN has reported that it's her 2nd or 3rd marriage, and his 2nd or 3rd marriage- what is it? I'm all confused and want accuracy with my reporting. Dammit.
And another one from the vaults
I'm so chock full o stories this week that I amaze even myself. Today I shall discuss the parable of "Why you should always lock the door to your apartment at night."
So, Spouse and I were newly united back in the day, and we had been involved in a riotous party. Brian, Spouse's roommate had invited the kind of scary neighbor guy up to join in the festivities. He brought along a Bon Jovi tape.
Then they all went down town, and we went to Tidyman's for toilet paper. We came back, and the floor in the bathroom was awash- while we were gone, before they left, there had been some honey flinging. Then hair washing. And the tiles from the bathroom floor peeled up. But this happened later.
So, we are quietly setting the apartment back to livable state- in kind of that drunken fastidiously deliberate way that comes on when you're trying very hard not to break shit- scraping honey infused newspaper from the kitchen floor.
It was too hard. We were tired. We went to bed. Later Brian came home. No one locked the door.
Around I'm gonna guess 3 AM I woke up and saw the monkey man from next door in the doorway of the bedroom. (he was short, hairy and scary) I woke Spouse up and told him that monkey man was in the house. Then I fell asleep again. I woke up a few minutes later and monkey man was slowly crawling across the bedroom floor towards us. I woke Spouse and we whispered to eachother- all while monkey man kept coming towards us (what does he want? I dunno...). Finally Spouse said out loud, "What do you want?" Monkey man came to a dead stop and slowly crawled backwards out of the room. Then he left. I told Spouse to go lock the door. Then we slept again.
Always lock the door at night. Even in Missoula, MT- protosimian monkey men are waiting to enter and creepy crawl you. There is more to the monkey man story- I'll save it for later.
So, Spouse and I were newly united back in the day, and we had been involved in a riotous party. Brian, Spouse's roommate had invited the kind of scary neighbor guy up to join in the festivities. He brought along a Bon Jovi tape.
Then they all went down town, and we went to Tidyman's for toilet paper. We came back, and the floor in the bathroom was awash- while we were gone, before they left, there had been some honey flinging. Then hair washing. And the tiles from the bathroom floor peeled up. But this happened later.
So, we are quietly setting the apartment back to livable state- in kind of that drunken fastidiously deliberate way that comes on when you're trying very hard not to break shit- scraping honey infused newspaper from the kitchen floor.
It was too hard. We were tired. We went to bed. Later Brian came home. No one locked the door.
Around I'm gonna guess 3 AM I woke up and saw the monkey man from next door in the doorway of the bedroom. (he was short, hairy and scary) I woke Spouse up and told him that monkey man was in the house. Then I fell asleep again. I woke up a few minutes later and monkey man was slowly crawling across the bedroom floor towards us. I woke Spouse and we whispered to eachother- all while monkey man kept coming towards us (what does he want? I dunno...). Finally Spouse said out loud, "What do you want?" Monkey man came to a dead stop and slowly crawled backwards out of the room. Then he left. I told Spouse to go lock the door. Then we slept again.
Always lock the door at night. Even in Missoula, MT- protosimian monkey men are waiting to enter and creepy crawl you. There is more to the monkey man story- I'll save it for later.
Oh God- it gets even better!
Or I get worse- you make the call...
The headline under the poll numbers reads, "Bush boosts Palestinians with $50 million infusion." They are making it too easy. Infuse this, baby!
Ahhhh. good times. I make myself giggle.
The headline under the poll numbers reads, "Bush boosts Palestinians with $50 million infusion." They are making it too easy. Infuse this, baby!
Ahhhh. good times. I make myself giggle.
And the next step
When I clicked the link about "pullout" I was asked, "do you think the Gaza withdrawl will happen as planned?" And I have to make the comment- gee- I was told in High School sex ed that the withdrawl method doesn't work for shit. What kind of accidents can occur when they employ that kind of thing?
Yup. It gets even worse. Just give me a little ammo, and I'll run with it for days. All in a somewhat pitiful attempt to amuse myself. Because holding monologues for the cats just doesn't cut it after a while. They look bored. Then they fall asleep. Or lick eachother. And I refuse to get in on that action- licking one's cats isn't cool.
Ahh- I am proud of my fellow citizens. The poll numbers show 70% don't think withdrawl will happen as planned. That could lead to a nasty little surprise a few months from now!
Yup. It gets even worse. Just give me a little ammo, and I'll run with it for days. All in a somewhat pitiful attempt to amuse myself. Because holding monologues for the cats just doesn't cut it after a while. They look bored. Then they fall asleep. Or lick eachother. And I refuse to get in on that action- licking one's cats isn't cool.
Ahh- I am proud of my fellow citizens. The poll numbers show 70% don't think withdrawl will happen as planned. That could lead to a nasty little surprise a few months from now!
Naughty things
Right now on the MSNBC.com website, the headline graphic says, "New Start- Bush meets Palestinian leader, vows $50 million in direct aid. Live vote: Will pullout happen?" heeheehee...
I am thinking all kinds of sick things right now. It's the pullout thing...coupled with the $50 million left on the dresser.
Someone at MSNBC loves me- or this wouldn't have happened. I've waited all my life for this...
I am thinking all kinds of sick things right now. It's the pullout thing...coupled with the $50 million left on the dresser.
Someone at MSNBC loves me- or this wouldn't have happened. I've waited all my life for this...
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Trouble with pictures
Picasa is being all temperamental. I think it is feuding with our virus software. So posting pictures isn't going so well. I apologize...
Nother poop story- sort of.
So, Chris and Rich are in the University Center and notice these mushrooms in the planters. They are convinced that these are the good kind of mushrooms. They harvest them, dry them out in the oven, grind them up and consume them.
Then they almost die. Or at least feel like it. Stuff coming out of every end imaginable. Bringing up the eternal question- does one choose to vomit on a towel and shit on the toilet? Or does one vomit in the toilet and shit on the floor? Chris chose the former, and I have to agree.
So after 2 days of this, things settle. And Chris is summoned to his unstable girlfriend's side. She wanted him to spend the night. And "No, honey, I'm in bad shape," wasn't an option. So since he was worried that he might shart in the night, they devised a garbage bag diaper for him. Thus trussed up he slept. (I'm thinking not much nookie...)
When he woke, he was very unsettled to note that it was very wet in the bag. He thought- "oh no, I've crapped myself." But was relieved to note that he was just sodden with sweat from the bag.
He said that he was convinced after the near-religious experience of purging so strongly that he was clean inside and would never have to eat again.
I'm a guessing that he discovered differently...
Then they almost die. Or at least feel like it. Stuff coming out of every end imaginable. Bringing up the eternal question- does one choose to vomit on a towel and shit on the toilet? Or does one vomit in the toilet and shit on the floor? Chris chose the former, and I have to agree.
So after 2 days of this, things settle. And Chris is summoned to his unstable girlfriend's side. She wanted him to spend the night. And "No, honey, I'm in bad shape," wasn't an option. So since he was worried that he might shart in the night, they devised a garbage bag diaper for him. Thus trussed up he slept. (I'm thinking not much nookie...)
When he woke, he was very unsettled to note that it was very wet in the bag. He thought- "oh no, I've crapped myself." But was relieved to note that he was just sodden with sweat from the bag.
He said that he was convinced after the near-religious experience of purging so strongly that he was clean inside and would never have to eat again.
I'm a guessing that he discovered differently...
Got another interview
For next Wednesday. Graphics firm- specializing in print. Thinking really happy thoughts.
Yesterday- things that I did
We went to the Star Wars movie yesterday. And it was kinda good. I have the following observations:
-Ewan MacGregor is hot. And he really ought to have that mole on his forehead looked at- it's bloody huge! And distracting...
-The script was marginally better. I know that Lucas hired someone to write it. They should've gone through a couple more drafts. I did like the Obi Wan line,"I have a bad feeling about this..." It made me all Han Solo happy- see the previous post...
-I agree with Spouse and the Evil Ryan- there was just a touch overkill with the CG. Why have 50 ships when you can create 500? Well, sometimes subtlety is a good thing. And the eye can't appreciate too much movement.
-There were entirely too many short, fragmented scenes. Would it have killed Lucas to tell the stories without all of the cuts? REALLY!
-Padme was a dumbass. Her character was unsatisfyingly damsel in distressish. All she seemed to do was wait around in the apartment.
-Samuel L. was definately phoning it in in his first scenes. Dammit man, we expect more from you!
-Angry muppets are cool.
-Anikin was sure in need of some therapy- he was a touch obsessive with his death problem. Wouldn't the Jedi with their mind tricks have figured this out? And wouldn't he have received anger management training whilst a child (sorry- youngling)? I'm just saying...
-and finally, why didn't the Jedi sense the ambush vibe? I thought that was part of their bag o tricks. Or is Yoda the only Jedi with that kind of sensory adaptation?
Overall, better than the last 2, far worse than the first 3. But I gotta hand it to Lucas- when I sit in the theater and the credits start, with the John Williams score, I get a little misty. Helps that the original Star Wars was a pivotal movie in my youth.
-Ewan MacGregor is hot. And he really ought to have that mole on his forehead looked at- it's bloody huge! And distracting...
-The script was marginally better. I know that Lucas hired someone to write it. They should've gone through a couple more drafts. I did like the Obi Wan line,"I have a bad feeling about this..." It made me all Han Solo happy- see the previous post...
-I agree with Spouse and the Evil Ryan- there was just a touch overkill with the CG. Why have 50 ships when you can create 500? Well, sometimes subtlety is a good thing. And the eye can't appreciate too much movement.
-There were entirely too many short, fragmented scenes. Would it have killed Lucas to tell the stories without all of the cuts? REALLY!
-Padme was a dumbass. Her character was unsatisfyingly damsel in distressish. All she seemed to do was wait around in the apartment.
-Samuel L. was definately phoning it in in his first scenes. Dammit man, we expect more from you!
-Angry muppets are cool.
-Anikin was sure in need of some therapy- he was a touch obsessive with his death problem. Wouldn't the Jedi with their mind tricks have figured this out? And wouldn't he have received anger management training whilst a child (sorry- youngling)? I'm just saying...
-and finally, why didn't the Jedi sense the ambush vibe? I thought that was part of their bag o tricks. Or is Yoda the only Jedi with that kind of sensory adaptation?
Overall, better than the last 2, far worse than the first 3. But I gotta hand it to Lucas- when I sit in the theater and the credits start, with the John Williams score, I get a little misty. Helps that the original Star Wars was a pivotal movie in my youth.
Friday, May 20, 2005
Mika cat
Mika cat is bad
he sits on the floor dirty
dreaming of his lunch.
Seriously- he is a filthy little beast in dire need of a bath. But I fear his wrath too much to do the deed. I think he would turn feral and tear large chunks off of my face...
he sits on the floor dirty
dreaming of his lunch.
Seriously- he is a filthy little beast in dire need of a bath. But I fear his wrath too much to do the deed. I think he would turn feral and tear large chunks off of my face...
My love affair with Harrison Ford
Yeah- when the original Star Wars came out, I had a total thing for Harrison Ford. Mark Hammill never did it for me- he was too much of a bitch. But my friend Terri and I mooned over Harrison. Dreamy, dreamy Harrison.
Not long afterwards, Bladerunner came out. We snuck into it- as it was rated R and we were underage. We expected to see Han Solo. We were disabused of that right off. Both of us left disappointed and saddened, and totally over our Harrison Ford mania. We were stupid. But we were young, in Montana and hopelessly silly. We thought that Olivia Newton John was cutting edge, and legwarmers were really cool. We went roller skating at the roller rink for fun. And rode our 10 speeds everywhere.
When I saw Bladerunner in college I realized the error of my earlier days tout suit- and got over it. I also left behind my affiliation with Journey, REO Speedwagon and Styx. It was all part of growing up and getting past the AM radio lifestyle that I had endured...(1340 KCAP...Helena....)
I still remember the words to most of the Journey songs on my records...sigh...I wish I could reallocate those brain cells to something useful, like Latin vocabulary...but I can't figure out how to jettison the useless crap.
Not long afterwards, Bladerunner came out. We snuck into it- as it was rated R and we were underage. We expected to see Han Solo. We were disabused of that right off. Both of us left disappointed and saddened, and totally over our Harrison Ford mania. We were stupid. But we were young, in Montana and hopelessly silly. We thought that Olivia Newton John was cutting edge, and legwarmers were really cool. We went roller skating at the roller rink for fun. And rode our 10 speeds everywhere.
When I saw Bladerunner in college I realized the error of my earlier days tout suit- and got over it. I also left behind my affiliation with Journey, REO Speedwagon and Styx. It was all part of growing up and getting past the AM radio lifestyle that I had endured...(1340 KCAP...Helena....)
I still remember the words to most of the Journey songs on my records...sigh...I wish I could reallocate those brain cells to something useful, like Latin vocabulary...but I can't figure out how to jettison the useless crap.
Friday story time
Today I relate a story that actually includes me. It's only fair!
I ate dinner at Worden's Market in Missoula- I remember the sandwich that I had- it had a kind of olive oil sauce on it- it was pretty good. Then my friend and I went up the Rattlesnake for a hike. We did this nightly, usually walking 8 miles total before it got too dark and scary.
We were hiking along, at a pretty brisk pace, when about 2 miles in from the trail head I felt the ominous rumblings of dinner doing somthing unusual. So I mentioned that there was a problem on board and that we had to head back. We picked up the pace, and it was a real struggle to get to the trail head and the outhouse there. I was just determined not to deal with unloading in the woods. Not gonna do it. Never...if I can help it. Luckily on this occasion I was successful. But it was really nasty.
Moral to this story- I don't like Worden's sandwiches anymore, and loathe nature. It's all nature's fault...and now I have committed the poop walk to eternity...
I ate dinner at Worden's Market in Missoula- I remember the sandwich that I had- it had a kind of olive oil sauce on it- it was pretty good. Then my friend and I went up the Rattlesnake for a hike. We did this nightly, usually walking 8 miles total before it got too dark and scary.
We were hiking along, at a pretty brisk pace, when about 2 miles in from the trail head I felt the ominous rumblings of dinner doing somthing unusual. So I mentioned that there was a problem on board and that we had to head back. We picked up the pace, and it was a real struggle to get to the trail head and the outhouse there. I was just determined not to deal with unloading in the woods. Not gonna do it. Never...if I can help it. Luckily on this occasion I was successful. But it was really nasty.
Moral to this story- I don't like Worden's sandwiches anymore, and loathe nature. It's all nature's fault...and now I have committed the poop walk to eternity...
Another go at it
So I got a call out of the blue yesterday from a connection of Spouse's about a possible job. At a company similar in size, etc. to the place I worked last. Think happy thoughts- this could actually happen! (God- I'm one of those happy fools who is an optimist- it hasn't been beaten out of me yet...)
Thursday, May 19, 2005
One more story before I go...
This one is also from a friend (I am happy to exploit my friends, as long as I protect their anonymity).
So we had a friend in AZ who was in Spouse's classes. Good guy. Mormon guy. And yes, devout- with all that entails. We sure liked him. He was kind of geeky in a really sweet way, and had the nicest mom ever.
Prior to the new Star Wars movies, he decided that since they were learning how to fabricate plastic, he would develop the coolest Halloween costume ever. He built several Boba Fett costumes. It took him weeks. The painting alone was probably some of the most complex work he had ever done. The grand pity of it was that he couldn't get a grade for it...
By the end, he had the perfect Boba Fett costume. And he created a couple of extras for two friends. And they went to Mill Ave. where there was a huge Halloween party. He was drunk chick magnet #1. They insisted on being in pictures with him. They showed him their breasts. They lllloooovvvveeeedddd him. They probably gave him plenty of impure thoughts. But since he didn't drink, he was able to resist their Jezebel natures...(and yes, I teased him about this some- he was really fun to tease- and took it remarkably well)
So I guess that this is one way for Star Wars geeks to get ahead for one night of their lives. Get the costume together and go to a drunken bacchanalia on Halloween. Then put the costume away for another year. Do not, under any circumstances wear it between times. Not even in the privacy of your own home.
And no, this doesn't work for Star Trek. No way, no how. No coolness quotent for Trekkers regardless of the holiday. Never, no way. So just stop it.
So we had a friend in AZ who was in Spouse's classes. Good guy. Mormon guy. And yes, devout- with all that entails. We sure liked him. He was kind of geeky in a really sweet way, and had the nicest mom ever.
Prior to the new Star Wars movies, he decided that since they were learning how to fabricate plastic, he would develop the coolest Halloween costume ever. He built several Boba Fett costumes. It took him weeks. The painting alone was probably some of the most complex work he had ever done. The grand pity of it was that he couldn't get a grade for it...
By the end, he had the perfect Boba Fett costume. And he created a couple of extras for two friends. And they went to Mill Ave. where there was a huge Halloween party. He was drunk chick magnet #1. They insisted on being in pictures with him. They showed him their breasts. They lllloooovvvveeeedddd him. They probably gave him plenty of impure thoughts. But since he didn't drink, he was able to resist their Jezebel natures...(and yes, I teased him about this some- he was really fun to tease- and took it remarkably well)
So I guess that this is one way for Star Wars geeks to get ahead for one night of their lives. Get the costume together and go to a drunken bacchanalia on Halloween. Then put the costume away for another year. Do not, under any circumstances wear it between times. Not even in the privacy of your own home.
And no, this doesn't work for Star Trek. No way, no how. No coolness quotent for Trekkers regardless of the holiday. Never, no way. So just stop it.
Rumor mill
I heard some unsettling news the other night- and no, it didn't involve Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes and facial hair.
I heard that poofy permed 80s hair is coming back. This cannot be. We must not let this happen. I spent years farming my hair into a large, blond, poofy, overprocessed curtain. And then I cut it all off in a lovely purgative rebellion my senior year in high school. No hair cut has ever felt soooo good.
I used to come home from the perm place (JC Penney's usually) with blistered burns on my neck. And my scalp would tingle for several days. And my hair took on the texture of very dry grass. My head was the amber waves of grain. It floated when I walked. Poof....poof....poof.... My migraine headaches began at that age...I would love to draw a correlation, but probably can't with any scientific accuracy.
This is wrong. We cannot go back. It is too painful...I can handle revisiting elephant bell bottom Hash jeans. I can deal with rainbow suspenders. I can even face blue eyeshadow (too old to partake, thank you). But the poofy 80s hair is my nemesis. It is definately part of the dark side that doesn't need to be resusitated. So, say a little prayer and light a candle. We can keep the darkness at bay.
I heard that poofy permed 80s hair is coming back. This cannot be. We must not let this happen. I spent years farming my hair into a large, blond, poofy, overprocessed curtain. And then I cut it all off in a lovely purgative rebellion my senior year in high school. No hair cut has ever felt soooo good.
I used to come home from the perm place (JC Penney's usually) with blistered burns on my neck. And my scalp would tingle for several days. And my hair took on the texture of very dry grass. My head was the amber waves of grain. It floated when I walked. Poof....poof....poof.... My migraine headaches began at that age...I would love to draw a correlation, but probably can't with any scientific accuracy.
This is wrong. We cannot go back. It is too painful...I can handle revisiting elephant bell bottom Hash jeans. I can deal with rainbow suspenders. I can even face blue eyeshadow (too old to partake, thank you). But the poofy 80s hair is my nemesis. It is definately part of the dark side that doesn't need to be resusitated. So, say a little prayer and light a candle. We can keep the darkness at bay.
Overachieving Thursday
By request:
Spouse and his roommate in college Brian were studying for their first Econ test. They were drinking cup after cup of Yuban coffee- they had no coffee pot and figured that this was a quality alternative. They stayed up all night. Spouse was also smoking at the time (nasty habit- lucky he stopped before meeting me...it would've been bad). After several hours of this self-abuse, their intestines rebelled, and they had to use the bathroom in shifts for the remainder of the night.
Morning came, and they had to take the test. Sadly, their tummies were still unsettled, and they took the test with that nasty, rumbly, sweaty feeling...
And they never drank Yuban again.
Moral to this story- Yuban is a bitch mistress who will cut you when she's able.
Spouse and his roommate in college Brian were studying for their first Econ test. They were drinking cup after cup of Yuban coffee- they had no coffee pot and figured that this was a quality alternative. They stayed up all night. Spouse was also smoking at the time (nasty habit- lucky he stopped before meeting me...it would've been bad). After several hours of this self-abuse, their intestines rebelled, and they had to use the bathroom in shifts for the remainder of the night.
Morning came, and they had to take the test. Sadly, their tummies were still unsettled, and they took the test with that nasty, rumbly, sweaty feeling...
And they never drank Yuban again.
Moral to this story- Yuban is a bitch mistress who will cut you when she's able.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
The waiting is the hardest part
So I'm still waiting to hear about the latest in the endless seeming procession of jobs. If this weren't so annoying, it would be humerous. But it's not yet. I actually do want to be gainfully employed. sigh...
And I have to thank some of my friends for being so supportive- I have received some wonderful emails and messages. Makes me feel all loved and happy.
And I have to thank some of my friends for being so supportive- I have received some wonderful emails and messages. Makes me feel all loved and happy.
Kittys misbehaving
So now Timmy likes the kitty upstairs. It's love. And she's one of those alpha females that don't get along with many other cats. I think she's his Elsa substitute. He goes to the top of the stairs and puts his paws under the door and shakes it. He wants to play...soooo badly....
And whenever we're up there and the door is open, he'll calmly saunter up there and start nosing around like he belongs there. Bad kitty.
I have a feeling that we're going to have problems keeping our kitty tribes separate.
And in other news, I hear that there are now 3 or so kittens in MT waiting for me. They are large I hear, but details aren't forthcoming yet. I'll report more later.
And whenever we're up there and the door is open, he'll calmly saunter up there and start nosing around like he belongs there. Bad kitty.
I have a feeling that we're going to have problems keeping our kitty tribes separate.
And in other news, I hear that there are now 3 or so kittens in MT waiting for me. They are large I hear, but details aren't forthcoming yet. I'll report more later.
It's crappicino Wednesday!
Since not too much is going on in my life, I'll plunder my friends' lives for stories that amuse me.
Our friend Dave was biking to his job in Phoenix from Tempe every day (about 10 miles) during one summer. He was working at an archetecture firm in a large building downtown. Sadly, the homeless from stink park had access to the bathroom in the building...more on that later.
The morning in question, Dave was running late. He grabs a frappucino from the fridge, downs it and gets on his bike. By the time he gets downtown, he has the ominous rumblings in his lower intestine that signal serious trouble coming down the pipes.
He runs into the bathroom (click, click, click- he was wearing his riding shoes). Since the homeless have made the bathroom messy, he hovers rather than sits. And lets go. Ahhhhhh.....
Then he gets ready to leave and notices that to his horror, he missed the bowl of the toilet and coated the rear wall of the stall with frappucino, etc. He goes to the sink to wash up, and slink off to the office...
Then a guy in a suit from one of the offices comes into the bathroom. He sees the stall, and says, "Goddamned homeless!" Dave agrees, nods and leaves....
So that kids is a parable about not drinking frappucino, getting on a bike and riding 10 miles in the summer in Phoenix where it's wicked hot. Bad things happen. And the homeless get blamed.
And as a sidenote, stink park isn't the official name- I called it that. It is a shantytown of homeless that has a nasty smell in the summer. Due to said homeless. Not a place I go- just drive by on occasion.
Our friend Dave was biking to his job in Phoenix from Tempe every day (about 10 miles) during one summer. He was working at an archetecture firm in a large building downtown. Sadly, the homeless from stink park had access to the bathroom in the building...more on that later.
The morning in question, Dave was running late. He grabs a frappucino from the fridge, downs it and gets on his bike. By the time he gets downtown, he has the ominous rumblings in his lower intestine that signal serious trouble coming down the pipes.
He runs into the bathroom (click, click, click- he was wearing his riding shoes). Since the homeless have made the bathroom messy, he hovers rather than sits. And lets go. Ahhhhhh.....
Then he gets ready to leave and notices that to his horror, he missed the bowl of the toilet and coated the rear wall of the stall with frappucino, etc. He goes to the sink to wash up, and slink off to the office...
Then a guy in a suit from one of the offices comes into the bathroom. He sees the stall, and says, "Goddamned homeless!" Dave agrees, nods and leaves....
So that kids is a parable about not drinking frappucino, getting on a bike and riding 10 miles in the summer in Phoenix where it's wicked hot. Bad things happen. And the homeless get blamed.
And as a sidenote, stink park isn't the official name- I called it that. It is a shantytown of homeless that has a nasty smell in the summer. Due to said homeless. Not a place I go- just drive by on occasion.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
On AZN tv right now
It's Bollywood day today. So they're showing an Indian movie about Pakistani support of Islamic terrorism in India. It's interesting, but very disturbing at the same time. I think it's a good litmus of what the relationship between the countries has been, but it's also unfortunate. The opening song was all about nationalism, and celebration of Mother India. Sounds kinda sweet and nice, but from studying history, I have a real itchy sense of nationalism. It doesn't often lead to good things. When a country decides that it is the best- uber alles, etc.- bad things tend to happen. Remember Anschluss anyone? No, well then look it up. Very unpleasant experience. Led to lots of death, plenty of ugliness and basically a fucked up Europe. So when I watch what appears to be the Indian equivalent of Rambo, it kind of unnerves me a tad. By painting the other nuclear power in the region as the equivalent of evil, good neighborhoods aren't fostered. It's like if we decided that Canada was plotting against us and needed to be hunted down...
Maybe that's the case, but if so- they're being awfully civilized about it. Perhaps it's all happening through the infiltration of their comedians into Hollywood. Culture first via humor- then come the nukes...
Maybe that's the case, but if so- they're being awfully civilized about it. Perhaps it's all happening through the infiltration of their comedians into Hollywood. Culture first via humor- then come the nukes...
Cool new special effect...
well, not really...
I've discovered something kinda sucky in the last few days- besides that I have to unpack all of my crap- and that is that beer makes my asthma go into high gear. It was supposed to be exercise induced only. But when I have beer from one of the lovely micro-breweries in the Seattle area, I rather quickly discover that I feel like there's about 20 lbs of bricks on my chest. And the inhaler only has a marginal effect. So I guess I have to move to gin. Or vodka. But vodka and I have a very checkered past, so gin might be better...or not...depending on your outlook...
I've discovered something kinda sucky in the last few days- besides that I have to unpack all of my crap- and that is that beer makes my asthma go into high gear. It was supposed to be exercise induced only. But when I have beer from one of the lovely micro-breweries in the Seattle area, I rather quickly discover that I feel like there's about 20 lbs of bricks on my chest. And the inhaler only has a marginal effect. So I guess I have to move to gin. Or vodka. But vodka and I have a very checkered past, so gin might be better...or not...depending on your outlook...
Ok so where did you hide the Ajax?
Yeah- unpacking is a whole lotta no fun. And I seem to have lost a couple of very important cleaning supplies in the process. Funny since they were the last thing loaded into the car...and the first things to disappear...dammit.
Sadly the place, cool though it art, was a pit when we moved in. Those responsible for the construction didn't clean up after themselves. So we've had double duty. But I shouldn't complain overmuch- maybe a little- it is a cool place. But it sucks to have to clean the stove before cooking anything. And that the bathroom floor was covered (along with every other surface) with a fine layer of grit.
Now if I can find the cleaning stuff, life will be just fine...
Sadly the place, cool though it art, was a pit when we moved in. Those responsible for the construction didn't clean up after themselves. So we've had double duty. But I shouldn't complain overmuch- maybe a little- it is a cool place. But it sucks to have to clean the stove before cooking anything. And that the bathroom floor was covered (along with every other surface) with a fine layer of grit.
Now if I can find the cleaning stuff, life will be just fine...
Thursday, May 12, 2005
I know that I lack pictures
I'll take some more soon- been kinda busy. Just imagine something like a picture on the page, and that'll help.
More info on AZN TV
So the Chinese soap opera that features dieties and demons is called King of Hades. I am wondering if this is a literal translation- if so, I'm curious as to where the Chinese came up with the name "Hades," as I thought that was Greek. Curiouser and curiouser.
The other soap opera that I've already adopted as my new special obsession is Korean and called Hotelier. It stars lovely young Asian guys (delicious) and pretty young Asian girls...and it's wonderful. These young people work in a...hotel...in Korea...and there's love, and fighting, and hostile takover attempts, and Las Vegas, and flashbacks, and lung cancer, and subtitles. I hope to see the entire series some day, as I've only caught the final 2 episodes. It's like the Mexican soaps that I watched in AZ on Telemundo and Univision- limited run. Only better since these are subtitled, and the Mexican ones weren't. So I did a lot of guessing.
Speaking of guessing, the Philipino game show that I watch is called Game K N B? And stars Ms. Kris Aquino as the lovely Dolce and Gabbana garbed hostess who seems preoccupied by her own hair. It's wacky. The contestants seem kind of clueless and confused, and frankly very unpolished. But the cool thing is that I think that I could totally clean up on the show- even though only about 1/4 of the dialogue is in English. Mainly because the questions are silly/easy and mostly either yes/no or multiple choice- thus the odds are very good. The contestants usually are so thick or nervous that they often jump the gun and don't listen to the entire question- thus getting it wrong- and Ms. Kris Aquino has to gently reprimand them. It's fun. We'll see if I can infect Spouse with my enthusiasm. He didn't get King of Hades last night...sigh...
The other soap opera that I've already adopted as my new special obsession is Korean and called Hotelier. It stars lovely young Asian guys (delicious) and pretty young Asian girls...and it's wonderful. These young people work in a...hotel...in Korea...and there's love, and fighting, and hostile takover attempts, and Las Vegas, and flashbacks, and lung cancer, and subtitles. I hope to see the entire series some day, as I've only caught the final 2 episodes. It's like the Mexican soaps that I watched in AZ on Telemundo and Univision- limited run. Only better since these are subtitled, and the Mexican ones weren't. So I did a lot of guessing.
Speaking of guessing, the Philipino game show that I watch is called Game K N B? And stars Ms. Kris Aquino as the lovely Dolce and Gabbana garbed hostess who seems preoccupied by her own hair. It's wacky. The contestants seem kind of clueless and confused, and frankly very unpolished. But the cool thing is that I think that I could totally clean up on the show- even though only about 1/4 of the dialogue is in English. Mainly because the questions are silly/easy and mostly either yes/no or multiple choice- thus the odds are very good. The contestants usually are so thick or nervous that they often jump the gun and don't listen to the entire question- thus getting it wrong- and Ms. Kris Aquino has to gently reprimand them. It's fun. We'll see if I can infect Spouse with my enthusiasm. He didn't get King of Hades last night...sigh...
So how's the move, you ask?
We like the new place. But our stuff is in boxes. Boxes fill the rooms...and this needs to be addressed. So tonight we sort our boxes. And we place some of the boxes in storage places. So we don't see those boxes, and we forget that we own stuff in those boxes. Until the next time we move. Then we get to consider why we still own the stuff in those boxes. It's a wonderful little circle jerk that we have devised...and it fails to account for the boxes stored in MT.
And on the job front- I am waiting. This kind of passive crap really gets to me after a while. I like decisions. Pro or con, at least then I'm not sitting around not doing anything...
And on the job front- I am waiting. This kind of passive crap really gets to me after a while. I like decisions. Pro or con, at least then I'm not sitting around not doing anything...
Oh MY F GOD!!!
From the BBC news:
here has been a small outbreak of “zombism” in a small town near the border of Laos in North-Eastern Cambodia.
here has been a small outbreak of “zombism” in a small town near the border of Laos in North-Eastern Cambodia.
The culprit was discovered to be mosquitoes native to that region carrying a new strain of Malaria which thus far has a 100 percent mortality rate and kills victims in fewer than 2 days.
After death, this parasite is able to restart the heart of its victim for up to two hours after the initial demise of the person where the individual behaves in extremely violent ways from what is believed to be a combination of brain damage and a chemical released into blood during “resurrection.”
Cambodian officials say that the outbreak has been contained and the public has no need to worry.
General Ary Serey had this to say, "We have obtained samples of this new parasite and plan to learn how it starts the heart and other major organs of the deceased. We intend to use this to increase the quality of life for all."
US Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice opposed the plan saying that the Cambodian government holds a great biological weapon and should destroy it immediately. Cambodian officials have yet to comment.
A United Nations team will be dispatched to Cambodia to confirm the safety of biological research in Cambodia.
(this is probably the most fucked up thing I've seen in quite a while. And I've seen some fucked up stuff lately- remember- I'm umpacking all of my belongings...)
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Yes, well...
So the bulk of the moving and shifting of posessions is done. I have to clean the old place still- but that won't be too bad. Now is the unpacking. Often a revelation- I can look in boxes that were in storage and have the joy of rediscovery.
So Spouse is on a business trip. Whilst he enjoys the Midwest- hope he has a cheesy tater tot hot dish while out there- I have discovered Comcast cable. We had Direct TV at the other place.
I have found ASN tv. It is cool as hell. Last night I enjoyed the last half hour of a Chinese (I think) soap opera featuring Water and Fire demons and lots of running around and very bad king fu action. It was really great. The demons had silly noses and big wigs. The water demon resembled a green housecat.
Then I watched a Philipino quiz show. It was great- I could understand about 1/4 of the language used (as it was English), and didn't have a clue as to the rest. But the action involved a disco dance track, smoke machine, disco floor in the shape of a pyramid, and hostess whose wrap dress was coming apart on top by the end of the show (she had on a red bra- that's all I'm sayin). It was funny. The people on the show weren't very sure of themselves on camera.
And finally, I got sucked into a Chinese movie that kept me up way too late. It was called All The Way, and was about a young girl wrapped up in her boyfriend's life of crime, and the hapless nice guy who is trying to save her. The only irritation was that the male voiceover wasn't subtitled. And I suspect that the plot was wrapped up via voiceover. Dammit.
All in all, a very good find.
So Spouse is on a business trip. Whilst he enjoys the Midwest- hope he has a cheesy tater tot hot dish while out there- I have discovered Comcast cable. We had Direct TV at the other place.
I have found ASN tv. It is cool as hell. Last night I enjoyed the last half hour of a Chinese (I think) soap opera featuring Water and Fire demons and lots of running around and very bad king fu action. It was really great. The demons had silly noses and big wigs. The water demon resembled a green housecat.
Then I watched a Philipino quiz show. It was great- I could understand about 1/4 of the language used (as it was English), and didn't have a clue as to the rest. But the action involved a disco dance track, smoke machine, disco floor in the shape of a pyramid, and hostess whose wrap dress was coming apart on top by the end of the show (she had on a red bra- that's all I'm sayin). It was funny. The people on the show weren't very sure of themselves on camera.
And finally, I got sucked into a Chinese movie that kept me up way too late. It was called All The Way, and was about a young girl wrapped up in her boyfriend's life of crime, and the hapless nice guy who is trying to save her. The only irritation was that the male voiceover wasn't subtitled. And I suspect that the plot was wrapped up via voiceover. Dammit.
All in all, a very good find.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Sparsely populated this week
The moving and packing and sorting continues. As does the prep work for the interview tomorrow. So I'll not be attending to my blogging duties as diligently as I would like. If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride. (I really don't know for sure what that means, and Spouse thinks it's funny when I say that...)
So, let's hope that in 72 hours, I'll be employed and moved and at least partially moved in.
All I know is, I have too many clothes. I spent years amassing a vintage collection that I never wear- sigh. The really good stuff (pucci) I sold on Ebay for a ginormous amount of money. But the rest? I don't quite know what to do with it all. I gotta think.
Anyway, talk at ya all later!
So, let's hope that in 72 hours, I'll be employed and moved and at least partially moved in.
All I know is, I have too many clothes. I spent years amassing a vintage collection that I never wear- sigh. The really good stuff (pucci) I sold on Ebay for a ginormous amount of money. But the rest? I don't quite know what to do with it all. I gotta think.
Anyway, talk at ya all later!
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Moving day
I'm dealing with a Chevy Suburban that needs a fillin. So I'll perhaps post tonight. Perhaps not- depending on how tired I am. Yup- I'm a tease.
Oh- and I have another interview on Friday. It's kind of like running the gauntlet. After they finish bitch slapping my psyche, I'll be all kinds of new.
Oh- and I have another interview on Friday. It's kind of like running the gauntlet. After they finish bitch slapping my psyche, I'll be all kinds of new.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
And I pride myself on my sense of humor
Sigh....it's come to this. I have become the humorless wreck of humanity that I always feared was inside...
Next I'll be yelling at meter maids (oh, yeah. I did that once- and will suffer from the guilt forevermore) and small animals. (Get away from me, squirrel! I mean it!!!)
I didn't get the Washington Mutual job, and am getting frustrated/dejected. So it's starting to look more like food service industry jobs for me. Good God yo- I probably couldn't get one of those! No experience in the field in the last decade. Damn. Damn. Damn.
Stupid squirrel.
How does one lift the curse of a harassed meter maid?
Next I'll be yelling at meter maids (oh, yeah. I did that once- and will suffer from the guilt forevermore) and small animals. (Get away from me, squirrel! I mean it!!!)
I didn't get the Washington Mutual job, and am getting frustrated/dejected. So it's starting to look more like food service industry jobs for me. Good God yo- I probably couldn't get one of those! No experience in the field in the last decade. Damn. Damn. Damn.
Stupid squirrel.
How does one lift the curse of a harassed meter maid?
Ok- so sometimes I miss nuance
All right then. Be anonymous for all that I care. I love my people. And I don't want the lazy ones to suffer. So- I'm a tad slow on the uptake sometimes. Especially when in the midst of sorting through my worldly possessions whilst job hunting frenzedly (Walmart is starting to look appealing- I could be a greeter...). Bear with me! (kisses!)
Monday, May 02, 2005
And finally-
It's time to think about happy things. Like the kittens in MT waiting to come home to my house. Like the new apartment we're in the middle of moving into, like Laura Bush being all funny at the White House Correspondent's Dinner this weekend, like sunshine, lollypops, and rainbows everywhere.
And the fact that both Spouse and I can actually use our noses to breathe, not just to break the even planes of our faces.
Happy Monday time
Going to Trader Joe's now
buy some dried mangoes.
And the fact that both Spouse and I can actually use our noses to breathe, not just to break the even planes of our faces.
Happy Monday time
Going to Trader Joe's now
buy some dried mangoes.
Problems with photos
I wanted to add some cheer, levity and general interest via photos. But the Hello Picasa thingy that I am forced by blogger to use isn't working. So no photos for today. Damn. Girl can't get a break today!
New posting policy
Ok- I've been pondering this all weekend. And since some of the posters to my blog are confusing me, I am going to end the whole anonymous posting option. I don't really care if posters want to rag on me (it's not fun, but part of the cost of doing business, don't cha know). But there was a posting that seemed derogatory towards my friends, and that I don't want to deal with. So, sorry if you were attached to anonymity- but all things change.
And yes, I'm a little worked up right now...pissy, actually...I apologize...it's a byproduct of the earlier post.
And yes, I'm a little worked up right now...pissy, actually...I apologize...it's a byproduct of the earlier post.
Particularly hurtful
God Damn the small town. That said, I hear from my esteemed Father that my uncle Bob (Yup- I have an "And Bob's your uncle) was talking to the man responsible for me having to move those huuuugggeee show cases from my Mother's former store last month. Not only did I have to deal with the emotional stress caused by dismantling one of my childhood haunts and a (redacted) landmark, but I also had to deal with the sheer magnitude of the job. It wasn't fun. Period.
So dipshit, aka Mr. Bigshot (who has a very nice wife and son, btw) decides to flap his gums at my uncle, claiming that I was offered a "nice" amount of money to not move the cases, as moving them left a mess, and the store would've been worth more had they remained in situ. No shit! Really? Seeing as how during the only conversation that I had with him (with my Father in the room) he rejected buying them outright, I guess I must've lost my mind. Hmmm. The bastard is trying to make me the villian here, and I don't approve. And with my own family. That takes class. I would've done practically anything short of giving the damned things away to avoid having to move them. And the little cockknocker has the nerve to claim otherwise...fuck him. I feel a nasty letter coming on... or an irate visit... Yeah- time to plan the vengence tour 2005. Roadtrip with a purpose...
At least I am in fighting form again, and will ponder my next move. And the cases are out. And they are for sale. And he has one hell of a mess to deal with in the old store. Not my problem, sir. Not my problem at all.
So dipshit, aka Mr. Bigshot (who has a very nice wife and son, btw) decides to flap his gums at my uncle, claiming that I was offered a "nice" amount of money to not move the cases, as moving them left a mess, and the store would've been worth more had they remained in situ. No shit! Really? Seeing as how during the only conversation that I had with him (with my Father in the room) he rejected buying them outright, I guess I must've lost my mind. Hmmm. The bastard is trying to make me the villian here, and I don't approve. And with my own family. That takes class. I would've done practically anything short of giving the damned things away to avoid having to move them. And the little cockknocker has the nerve to claim otherwise...fuck him. I feel a nasty letter coming on... or an irate visit... Yeah- time to plan the vengence tour 2005. Roadtrip with a purpose...
At least I am in fighting form again, and will ponder my next move. And the cases are out. And they are for sale. And he has one hell of a mess to deal with in the old store. Not my problem, sir. Not my problem at all.
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