Sad fishie crisis last-night-into-today. There is a disease caused by stress, of a parasitic nature, that looks like little bubbles clinging to the fish, that our tank has been infected with. I learned that this is very common in fish that come from the stressy tanks of major pet stores like Petco and PetSmart.
I also learned that this disease is called "the ick" - go Speed and his Interweb research on the topic! - and quite frankly I could care less what it's short for.
We have lost one of our fish already, and his brother is not looking so hot. I hope that ALL of our fish make it, so keep your fingers crossed.
So...I got a new job! It is at an energy conservation company staffed mainly by crazy liberal folks, which is nice, and I am working on a project that provides loan assistance to people putting energy-smart heating systems, insulation, etc., into their homes. It's actually very cool, and being piloted by NStar and National Grid before it goes state-wide, which will be very exciting, especially because I am a dork and thus excited about working with the Romney PR Machine. Though I think he is a jerky goober, his PR folks are hardcore, and I like that.
Trying to get the non-profit jumpstarted again...see how that goes.
That's about it for now, but more later!
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
My Soul is Soaked in Jet Fuel. Positive Prist.
So, today was my first training day as a ramp rat. For those of you who decided that the preceding sentence was an indicator of intoxication, a ramp rat is a person who boogies around and makes sure everything that needs to happen to get aircraft all taken care of and either sent away or put away. At the place I work, which starts with an "S" and ends in a "wissport," this generally means fueling and de-icing, plus the obligatory marshalling, parking and moving of planes. Clearly, there was going to be fantastic weather for my first day on the ramp.
Iced over, freezing rain and freezing FOG, turning to snow, cold enough to bend a brass monkey.
Thanks, weather.
So we started out with the morning checks of equipment and fuel farm. Now here's the thing...you have to be careful with fuel, because, well, it can go boom, so there are a lot of steps to doing anything with it. At the same time, as with every job like this one where you deal with hazardous materials all day, there's a weirdly casual attitude to it. For instance.
To check out the quality and gunk-freeness of the fuel in a truck or in the giant tanks at the fuel farm, (NB - Do me a favor and say "fuel farm" a few times. Isn't that GREAT?!?) you set all the various levers and buttons appropriately, and grab a porcelain-lined bucket. See how that sounds fancy? It's not. It's a semi-grungy bucket. Throw said bucket under the sump spout, and pour maybe a gallon into it of whatever fuel you're checking, and then swirl it around. Look for stuff moving around and water. Don't see any? Dump it in a big bin, and start with the next tank or truck.
So that's fine. Pretty easy, except the endless pumping required to get things going...naturally, it took until the third tank to figure out that steady pumping was not, in fact the way to go, but rather that you should just yank the everloving crap out of it and it'll get moving faster. Man, it is SERIOUSLY satisfying though, the first time you get that really productive pump. You're all over the pumping, arm a begloved blur, and then you slow waaay down although you're using the same pressure, and you smell that nasty smell and there's about an inch of fuel in the bucket. Yeah, baby.
Hmm.
Nothing about that last paragraph was a metaphor for sex. Yikes.
It's a lot like when you're biking and switch to a higher gear as you start going uphill...you're not making as many revolutions, but every one is so damn satisfying.
*pedal*
"You know that's right."
*pedal*
"Huh!"
*pedal*
"YEAH, BEETCHES!"
*pedal*
"hoooooooo RAH!"
Anyway. I also got set to the task of learning to operate the tug, which is a very squat, very ugly critter used to haul more or less everything around the ramp. If you're an airport ramp watch-while-you-waiter, you'll have seen it pulling baggage carts, potable water tanks (...hate.), and lav carts (...ew). First they set me up with a tow bar attached to the Tug and told me to do some figure eights around two cones set out that actually managed to look too small for the Tug to get through in the first place. No matter, I made it work. Tim Gunn would have been so proud. (Although not of my outfit, most likely.) Then the guy I was working with threw down another cone, so I switched to making trinity knots around the cones. Then...oh THEN. Mushroom came out (It bears mentioning that I named him Mushroom because he calls himself that every now and then, in the context of being left in the dark until someone opens the door and throws some shit on him. Hah!) and hooked up the water cart to the Tug.
And my nemesis, it was met.
Holy mother of GOD that thing sucked. With the tow bar you only have the wheel set at the end of the bar to navigate. With the water cart, there are two sets of wheels, so every movement of the Tug's steering is magnified. I was supposed to back the cart (cart going backwards, Tug driving forward) along the yellow line going straight down the tie down area in front of Swissport. That line has NEVER looked so long as it did after my first try at moving that cart. UGH. No matter WHAT I did, it jacknifed on me. Mushroom said it was because I was going too fast, which, fine, but by then, I was agita all over the damn place so we called it a day Tug-wise and watched some INTENSELY stimulating AvFuel instructional videos. Fab.
So the most exciting thing, other than playing with the Tug, which kicked ass (tm Ray), was that I got to fuel a real, live plane. We had a small Lear come in for a prisoner transfer (!! No one exciting or even very menacing though.) and they needed fuel, so Red Hat and I fueled it up. Unfortunately, he forgot to mention that there is an extra small cap on the end of the nozzle, so I took "so go ahead" to mean "you can pump the fuel without incident now."
I'm sure you know where this is going.
I can now personally attest that the taste of Jet A - positive Prist, for those of you keeping track at home - is NOT something that anyone needs to be tasting. I have heard ad nauseam that the Glycol (de-icing) tastes like Dr. Pepper. Let me tell you that Jet A does NOT. I was spitting all damn day after that stuff. It also bears mentioning that jet fuel has a violently adhesive aroma to it. I just pulled my clothes out of the washer maybe an hour ago, and they STILL smelled faintly of it. I am hoping that the dryer sheets will kill the stench. But wow. I actually wonder, on a side note, whether or not if they intentionally flavor the Glycol.
Other news: Pentameter (It's so great when your friends appear online...ready made code names.) is going to help with some grant work for the non-profit! I have been wanting to start things up and going up here in Mass, but I'll need some fundage...which is where Pentameter comes in. She knows her shit, grant-wise, which spares me the need to learn the grant application process inside and out AND, in theory, the need to pay for everything out of pocket once again. Not that paying for eleventy billion reams of paper and other assorted crap that went along with the conference on my work study paychecks wasn't fun, but...it wasn't fun. So everyone think good thoughts for me, and if anyone has any suggestions for places we should hound for money, let me know.
Iced over, freezing rain and freezing FOG, turning to snow, cold enough to bend a brass monkey.
Thanks, weather.
So we started out with the morning checks of equipment and fuel farm. Now here's the thing...you have to be careful with fuel, because, well, it can go boom, so there are a lot of steps to doing anything with it. At the same time, as with every job like this one where you deal with hazardous materials all day, there's a weirdly casual attitude to it. For instance.
To check out the quality and gunk-freeness of the fuel in a truck or in the giant tanks at the fuel farm, (NB - Do me a favor and say "fuel farm" a few times. Isn't that GREAT?!?) you set all the various levers and buttons appropriately, and grab a porcelain-lined bucket. See how that sounds fancy? It's not. It's a semi-grungy bucket. Throw said bucket under the sump spout, and pour maybe a gallon into it of whatever fuel you're checking, and then swirl it around. Look for stuff moving around and water. Don't see any? Dump it in a big bin, and start with the next tank or truck.
So that's fine. Pretty easy, except the endless pumping required to get things going...naturally, it took until the third tank to figure out that steady pumping was not, in fact the way to go, but rather that you should just yank the everloving crap out of it and it'll get moving faster. Man, it is SERIOUSLY satisfying though, the first time you get that really productive pump. You're all over the pumping, arm a begloved blur, and then you slow waaay down although you're using the same pressure, and you smell that nasty smell and there's about an inch of fuel in the bucket. Yeah, baby.
Hmm.
Nothing about that last paragraph was a metaphor for sex. Yikes.
It's a lot like when you're biking and switch to a higher gear as you start going uphill...you're not making as many revolutions, but every one is so damn satisfying.
*pedal*
"You know that's right."
*pedal*
"Huh!"
*pedal*
"YEAH, BEETCHES!"
*pedal*
"hoooooooo RAH!"
Anyway. I also got set to the task of learning to operate the tug, which is a very squat, very ugly critter used to haul more or less everything around the ramp. If you're an airport ramp watch-while-you-waiter, you'll have seen it pulling baggage carts, potable water tanks (...hate.), and lav carts (...ew). First they set me up with a tow bar attached to the Tug and told me to do some figure eights around two cones set out that actually managed to look too small for the Tug to get through in the first place. No matter, I made it work. Tim Gunn would have been so proud. (Although not of my outfit, most likely.) Then the guy I was working with threw down another cone, so I switched to making trinity knots around the cones. Then...oh THEN. Mushroom came out (It bears mentioning that I named him Mushroom because he calls himself that every now and then, in the context of being left in the dark until someone opens the door and throws some shit on him. Hah!) and hooked up the water cart to the Tug.
And my nemesis, it was met.
Holy mother of GOD that thing sucked. With the tow bar you only have the wheel set at the end of the bar to navigate. With the water cart, there are two sets of wheels, so every movement of the Tug's steering is magnified. I was supposed to back the cart (cart going backwards, Tug driving forward) along the yellow line going straight down the tie down area in front of Swissport. That line has NEVER looked so long as it did after my first try at moving that cart. UGH. No matter WHAT I did, it jacknifed on me. Mushroom said it was because I was going too fast, which, fine, but by then, I was agita all over the damn place so we called it a day Tug-wise and watched some INTENSELY stimulating AvFuel instructional videos. Fab.
So the most exciting thing, other than playing with the Tug, which kicked ass (tm Ray), was that I got to fuel a real, live plane. We had a small Lear come in for a prisoner transfer (!! No one exciting or even very menacing though.) and they needed fuel, so Red Hat and I fueled it up. Unfortunately, he forgot to mention that there is an extra small cap on the end of the nozzle, so I took "so go ahead" to mean "you can pump the fuel without incident now."
I'm sure you know where this is going.
I can now personally attest that the taste of Jet A - positive Prist, for those of you keeping track at home - is NOT something that anyone needs to be tasting. I have heard ad nauseam that the Glycol (de-icing) tastes like Dr. Pepper. Let me tell you that Jet A does NOT. I was spitting all damn day after that stuff. It also bears mentioning that jet fuel has a violently adhesive aroma to it. I just pulled my clothes out of the washer maybe an hour ago, and they STILL smelled faintly of it. I am hoping that the dryer sheets will kill the stench. But wow. I actually wonder, on a side note, whether or not if they intentionally flavor the Glycol.
Other news: Pentameter (It's so great when your friends appear online...ready made code names.) is going to help with some grant work for the non-profit! I have been wanting to start things up and going up here in Mass, but I'll need some fundage...which is where Pentameter comes in. She knows her shit, grant-wise, which spares me the need to learn the grant application process inside and out AND, in theory, the need to pay for everything out of pocket once again. Not that paying for eleventy billion reams of paper and other assorted crap that went along with the conference on my work study paychecks wasn't fun, but...it wasn't fun. So everyone think good thoughts for me, and if anyone has any suggestions for places we should hound for money, let me know.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Note to the Cast and Crew of Annapolis: "Uh-uh, guys."
This is what I love about Annapolis.
The first thing I noticed is that the trailer features nothing but boot-camp-esque clips, violent yelling, sexy military folk, and all the other assorted cliches of dick-swinging military flicks. The second thing that I noticed is that there's a fair amount of actual hoo-rahing, which I have to think is inserted in the hopes of ganking some success from Jarhead... one of the most compelling aural and visual images from that movie was the one they - wisely - chose to end THEIR trailers with, that of Jamie Foxx, sitting at a fire, explaining why he loved the hell out of the Marine Corps, with his face masked enough by shadow that only the roughest edges of his face were lit, and growling out an "ooh-rah" that started somewhere around, say, his kneecaps, and rumbled up and out to relay pretty much everything elemental about why people are never ever ex-Marines. I've found the Hoo-rah to be one of few cross-branch armed forces "things," but I don't know that anyone is going to argue that when you hear it in general pop culture, you think of the Corps, not the other folks.
Anyway, back to Annapolis...as I'm watching the trailer, I have about five seconds of "Woot, go Spinnaker," followed by a long, uncomfortable period of "that's....not...the Yard." Here's the thing about military movies. Military recruiting banks MOSTLY on two things - the sexiness of it all, with the uniform and the hardbody stuff and the guns and swords and boats and planes and Bob Hope and all, and then there's also the financial benefit, which is worked to the most success by, of course, the Reserves. The collective military spends thousands upon thousands of dollars - I can't believe it wouldn't easily break into the millions - on advertising. When someone in Hollywood decides to make a big ole ball of testosterone about any one branch (I have yet to see someone make a movie so expansive that it can cover the movement of all the branches of the US Military in one movie....and I have to think that it would be pretty boring for the general public, just from the sheer amount of stuff to keep track of and the knowledge required to not START about nineteen feet over your head.), it's free advertising for them. For a movie to suck SO HARD that the Navy told the people creating it that if they came near the USNA they would turn the plebes on them (and let me tell you, those kids have GOT to have some major violent repression going on...I imagine the producers and directors and editors being chased with sticks, quite frankly, and it warms the cockles of my heart.) is fanTAStic to me. I just love it. That is one suck-ass movie. I have GOT to go see it.
Now here's another thing, which I'm not 100% sure about, but I know Anna Karenina will be reading this at some point and probably be able to set me straight...Spinnaker didn't give me detailed records of his physical training at the Academy, but somehow I find the stuff in the trailer...overly hardcore. Anna?
Things are good here...in response to the Great Betta Fish Crisis of Ought Six, we bought a 30 gallon fishtank, which is being cycled in as we speak. We have eight little fishies, all of whom are awesome AND compatible with Betta Number Two, Jerry. Jerry is not in the big tank yet, because we would hate to lose him during the various cycles of chemicals in the tank. So far we've only lost one tetra, and he was sort of...floppy from the get-go. He wasn't doing well even in the fishie store. Speed (Skeezix, though fun to say, has become an irritating moniker for him in my mind, so I am changing it, HAH.) gave him a burial in the garbage disposal, which sounds brutal, but actually spares the fish the possibility of regaining some sensibility mid-flush and suffering as the poisons in the sewer systems eat into his body. Poor little guy.
Had a great weekend in the Poconos with a bunch of the Ubersite gang...you know, some folks are just fab. TigerLilly is one of the best friends I've got, and god damn is she wonderful. SO few people I can sit and shoot the shit for THAT long and have it remain interesting and a total blast. Really fun weekend, and more later. On the flipside, it's also SO great to be back and see my sweetie...I think it's the longest we've been apart since we got together. Awesome.
He is the best.
The first thing I noticed is that the trailer features nothing but boot-camp-esque clips, violent yelling, sexy military folk, and all the other assorted cliches of dick-swinging military flicks. The second thing that I noticed is that there's a fair amount of actual hoo-rahing, which I have to think is inserted in the hopes of ganking some success from Jarhead... one of the most compelling aural and visual images from that movie was the one they - wisely - chose to end THEIR trailers with, that of Jamie Foxx, sitting at a fire, explaining why he loved the hell out of the Marine Corps, with his face masked enough by shadow that only the roughest edges of his face were lit, and growling out an "ooh-rah" that started somewhere around, say, his kneecaps, and rumbled up and out to relay pretty much everything elemental about why people are never ever ex-Marines. I've found the Hoo-rah to be one of few cross-branch armed forces "things," but I don't know that anyone is going to argue that when you hear it in general pop culture, you think of the Corps, not the other folks.
Anyway, back to Annapolis...as I'm watching the trailer, I have about five seconds of "Woot, go Spinnaker," followed by a long, uncomfortable period of "that's....not...the Yard." Here's the thing about military movies. Military recruiting banks MOSTLY on two things - the sexiness of it all, with the uniform and the hardbody stuff and the guns and swords and boats and planes and Bob Hope and all, and then there's also the financial benefit, which is worked to the most success by, of course, the Reserves. The collective military spends thousands upon thousands of dollars - I can't believe it wouldn't easily break into the millions - on advertising. When someone in Hollywood decides to make a big ole ball of testosterone about any one branch (I have yet to see someone make a movie so expansive that it can cover the movement of all the branches of the US Military in one movie....and I have to think that it would be pretty boring for the general public, just from the sheer amount of stuff to keep track of and the knowledge required to not START about nineteen feet over your head.), it's free advertising for them. For a movie to suck SO HARD that the Navy told the people creating it that if they came near the USNA they would turn the plebes on them (and let me tell you, those kids have GOT to have some major violent repression going on...I imagine the producers and directors and editors being chased with sticks, quite frankly, and it warms the cockles of my heart.) is fanTAStic to me. I just love it. That is one suck-ass movie. I have GOT to go see it.
Now here's another thing, which I'm not 100% sure about, but I know Anna Karenina will be reading this at some point and probably be able to set me straight...Spinnaker didn't give me detailed records of his physical training at the Academy, but somehow I find the stuff in the trailer...overly hardcore. Anna?
Things are good here...in response to the Great Betta Fish Crisis of Ought Six, we bought a 30 gallon fishtank, which is being cycled in as we speak. We have eight little fishies, all of whom are awesome AND compatible with Betta Number Two, Jerry. Jerry is not in the big tank yet, because we would hate to lose him during the various cycles of chemicals in the tank. So far we've only lost one tetra, and he was sort of...floppy from the get-go. He wasn't doing well even in the fishie store. Speed (Skeezix, though fun to say, has become an irritating moniker for him in my mind, so I am changing it, HAH.) gave him a burial in the garbage disposal, which sounds brutal, but actually spares the fish the possibility of regaining some sensibility mid-flush and suffering as the poisons in the sewer systems eat into his body. Poor little guy.
Had a great weekend in the Poconos with a bunch of the Ubersite gang...you know, some folks are just fab. TigerLilly is one of the best friends I've got, and god damn is she wonderful. SO few people I can sit and shoot the shit for THAT long and have it remain interesting and a total blast. Really fun weekend, and more later. On the flipside, it's also SO great to be back and see my sweetie...I think it's the longest we've been apart since we got together. Awesome.
He is the best.
Wednesday, January 4, 2006
The Lost Art of the Blinker
People.
There is a handy little lever on the left hand side of your steering wheel (No, no, your military left. What are you doing? Don't put that finger...oh for God's sake.) that I would like to reacquaint you with. It might also control your winshield wipers or, more likely, your headlights. What you do with this is simple. When you want to make a turn as you drive from Point A to Point B, you use any combination of fingers or your entire hand - hell, both hands if that's what you need to get the job done - to move the lever up and down. Depending on which way you move it, your car will have a little blinky light at the front and back of it on the appropriate side that - get this - TELLS OTHER DRIVERS WHICH WAY YOU WANT TO GO. This is helpful with things like not causing collisions and not making people wait for 5 minutes for you to inch along the road with the other lane completely clear of traffic only to find out that you are going to continue on your deranged little way. People at the fork of Salisbury and Forest Streets, I am GLARING MY ASS OFF IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION.
One more traffic related item...guys, seriously, know and follow the rules of the road. I know you're trying to be nice by letting me go at the funky intersection, but I am expecting you to go, because you have the right of way, and no good will come of your politeness at this moment in time. Don't let me discourage you from being polite the rest of the time, but when you're driving, just go by the rules. Because what's going to happen is that you're going to smile, and look like a really nice person, and I am totally sure that you are, but then I'm going to start to go, then stop, because I think I see you moving, and you're going to get confused and then YOU are going to start going, and we'll have a few more false starts, a la the Patriots (...seriously. Cut the crap, guys.), and then some asshole, probably in a pickup truck, is going to come flying through from the third street in the intersection and blow his horn and flick us both off, and it's GONNA BE UGLY, so please...it would be my pleasure to have you go right on ahead, because if we do that, the asshole in the truck will have nothing to honk at, and I won't be pissed.
RIP fishie Dean, dead of unexplained causes. Jerry lives on, appropriately. We are getting a big fish tank now, which will be really nice - complete with cat-proofing cover - and maybe we will get a SHARK because now Worcester has a hockey team!
Spiritus Sancti, Dean-o.
There is a handy little lever on the left hand side of your steering wheel (No, no, your military left. What are you doing? Don't put that finger...oh for God's sake.) that I would like to reacquaint you with. It might also control your winshield wipers or, more likely, your headlights. What you do with this is simple. When you want to make a turn as you drive from Point A to Point B, you use any combination of fingers or your entire hand - hell, both hands if that's what you need to get the job done - to move the lever up and down. Depending on which way you move it, your car will have a little blinky light at the front and back of it on the appropriate side that - get this - TELLS OTHER DRIVERS WHICH WAY YOU WANT TO GO. This is helpful with things like not causing collisions and not making people wait for 5 minutes for you to inch along the road with the other lane completely clear of traffic only to find out that you are going to continue on your deranged little way. People at the fork of Salisbury and Forest Streets, I am GLARING MY ASS OFF IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION.
One more traffic related item...guys, seriously, know and follow the rules of the road. I know you're trying to be nice by letting me go at the funky intersection, but I am expecting you to go, because you have the right of way, and no good will come of your politeness at this moment in time. Don't let me discourage you from being polite the rest of the time, but when you're driving, just go by the rules. Because what's going to happen is that you're going to smile, and look like a really nice person, and I am totally sure that you are, but then I'm going to start to go, then stop, because I think I see you moving, and you're going to get confused and then YOU are going to start going, and we'll have a few more false starts, a la the Patriots (...seriously. Cut the crap, guys.), and then some asshole, probably in a pickup truck, is going to come flying through from the third street in the intersection and blow his horn and flick us both off, and it's GONNA BE UGLY, so please...it would be my pleasure to have you go right on ahead, because if we do that, the asshole in the truck will have nothing to honk at, and I won't be pissed.
RIP fishie Dean, dead of unexplained causes. Jerry lives on, appropriately. We are getting a big fish tank now, which will be really nice - complete with cat-proofing cover - and maybe we will get a SHARK because now Worcester has a hockey team!
Spiritus Sancti, Dean-o.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Taking a Moment From the Holiday for Airline Announcements, Good Wishes and Amazonian Props.
It looks like we're running Amazon.com's shipping department out of our breezeway.
You name the size of box, we've got it out there. It's fabulous. Rich did almost every single bit of Christmas shopping on Amazon, and I did a bunch as well...the result? Four large boxes, six mid-size boxes, four small boxes, and one funky one sent from the returns department. All stacked in the breezeway until about two hours ago, when we opened and wrapped everything. Wow.
Also, MAD PROPS for my friends at Amazon. Everything I ordered came so damn fast it made my head spin, every order was correct and had the proper emailed paperwork to correspond with it so I could remember what the hell I bought, and my favorite thing concerns a shipment which I am not at liberty to describe because certain members of the household will be unwrapping it on Christmas Day. ANYWAY. Skeezix's mom wanted me to online-ize an order for her for this product, and I found it for her, no problem. Ordered it the 16th from Taylor Gifts...it was in stock and theoretically ready to ship. So, the other day, say the 20th or so, I'd recieved no shipment notification or anything, and I was a little concerned. I check the order online...backordered. The hell? They charged my card! Where the hell is my shipment? I call them, and a cranky sounding man informed me that it would ship "in the next few days" and it would be there in about 6 days.
"Is there any way I can upgrade the shipping so I'm sure it's here by the weekend?"
"No."
All right then. You know, here's a life lesson for you, Cranky Man and Taylor Gifts...just keep people updated and be nice about it, and people won't hate you.
So, when I saw the backorder thing, I ordered a similar item from Amazon, and picked standard shipping (3 to 7 biz days). I would have gone with expedited shipping, but it was my backup plan and I had Faith in the Amazon. This was the 21st. Today I get home, and what do I see but a pre-delivery notifcation from FedEx. It's due in tomorrow. GO AMAZON!!!! You guys rock my world. I'm sorry we ever fought [over your sneaky hiding of contact phone numbers].
On to more stuff...we bought a new vee-hickle, which will substantially reduce the number of headaches in the house that come with trying to coordinate our lives. It's a 2001 Dodge Durango - I know! - and it's blue and purty. It will mostly be my car, but of course, sharing is caring.
I, amongst others, sent the inaugural Allegiant Air flight off from lovely Worcester, Massachusetts today. Flight 776 left after a slight delay (thanks, area traffic. Can't help what's up in the air - the ground crew did it's job, no delay on our heads!) to sunny, seventy-degree Sanford, Florida around 11:30. It was a lot of tiring fun...I checked people in and got the station ready in the morning. I really felt great about helping the airport get a boost. We also had a few "Oh geez" moments...a family of four showing up at 11:00 on the dot thinking the flight was at 11:40 (even if that was the right time...forty minutes before a flight?), an almost-missed box of - I shit you not - cooked lobsters, which I got to run up to the gate for gate-check at the last POSSIBLE second. And of course, my boots set off the metal detector, I wound up running the last few yards in bare feet. Clearly. And we get to do it all again tomorrow.
On an icky note, my poor honey is sick as a dog...I hope I don't get what he has because I'm pretty sure it's the plague. He seems to be on the (slow) upswing, but it's still no picnic. Get better soon honey!
So, merry Christmas, everyone, and I hope to see you soon!
You name the size of box, we've got it out there. It's fabulous. Rich did almost every single bit of Christmas shopping on Amazon, and I did a bunch as well...the result? Four large boxes, six mid-size boxes, four small boxes, and one funky one sent from the returns department. All stacked in the breezeway until about two hours ago, when we opened and wrapped everything. Wow.
Also, MAD PROPS for my friends at Amazon. Everything I ordered came so damn fast it made my head spin, every order was correct and had the proper emailed paperwork to correspond with it so I could remember what the hell I bought, and my favorite thing concerns a shipment which I am not at liberty to describe because certain members of the household will be unwrapping it on Christmas Day. ANYWAY. Skeezix's mom wanted me to online-ize an order for her for this product, and I found it for her, no problem. Ordered it the 16th from Taylor Gifts...it was in stock and theoretically ready to ship. So, the other day, say the 20th or so, I'd recieved no shipment notification or anything, and I was a little concerned. I check the order online...backordered. The hell? They charged my card! Where the hell is my shipment? I call them, and a cranky sounding man informed me that it would ship "in the next few days" and it would be there in about 6 days.
"Is there any way I can upgrade the shipping so I'm sure it's here by the weekend?"
"No."
All right then. You know, here's a life lesson for you, Cranky Man and Taylor Gifts...just keep people updated and be nice about it, and people won't hate you.
So, when I saw the backorder thing, I ordered a similar item from Amazon, and picked standard shipping (3 to 7 biz days). I would have gone with expedited shipping, but it was my backup plan and I had Faith in the Amazon. This was the 21st. Today I get home, and what do I see but a pre-delivery notifcation from FedEx. It's due in tomorrow. GO AMAZON!!!! You guys rock my world. I'm sorry we ever fought [over your sneaky hiding of contact phone numbers].
On to more stuff...we bought a new vee-hickle, which will substantially reduce the number of headaches in the house that come with trying to coordinate our lives. It's a 2001 Dodge Durango - I know! - and it's blue and purty. It will mostly be my car, but of course, sharing is caring.
I, amongst others, sent the inaugural Allegiant Air flight off from lovely Worcester, Massachusetts today. Flight 776 left after a slight delay (thanks, area traffic. Can't help what's up in the air - the ground crew did it's job, no delay on our heads!) to sunny, seventy-degree Sanford, Florida around 11:30. It was a lot of tiring fun...I checked people in and got the station ready in the morning. I really felt great about helping the airport get a boost. We also had a few "Oh geez" moments...a family of four showing up at 11:00 on the dot thinking the flight was at 11:40 (even if that was the right time...forty minutes before a flight?), an almost-missed box of - I shit you not - cooked lobsters, which I got to run up to the gate for gate-check at the last POSSIBLE second. And of course, my boots set off the metal detector, I wound up running the last few yards in bare feet. Clearly. And we get to do it all again tomorrow.
On an icky note, my poor honey is sick as a dog...I hope I don't get what he has because I'm pretty sure it's the plague. He seems to be on the (slow) upswing, but it's still no picnic. Get better soon honey!
So, merry Christmas, everyone, and I hope to see you soon!
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Moral Court Should Be Up There With Locke, Hobbes, Plato and the Rest of the Gang
That's right, I said it.
Moral Court is a truly ridiculous show that only the brain dead and unemployed would ever watch, and it's too much dreck even for me, most of the time. Closer friends know that I always have something on in the background for white noise, so normally it's court shows - I particularly like The People's Court. (Gotta watch Wapner at three.) Moral Court is - obviously - not a real court show, but instead a sort of talk show shoehorned into a court looking set, and people get actual real money when they are proven "morally right." HAH! Awesome. Except not because it's usually utter crap and scary weird crazy people who like their Bibles a LOT. ANYWAY.
Today I happened to catch the tail end of a "case" involving - read this carefully - twin brothers running for the same office, one of whom had actually changed his party affiliation in order to run. That's the key thing; there's a lot of other crap like excessively similar campaign posters and what have you, but it doesn't really matter.
This is what politics have become and what parties have become - something completely fluid, with an complete absence of solidity. The political arena began life and, as far as I'm concerned, should REMAIN a forum in which to debate the moral issues of a society. This whole thing keys into my rant about the difference between government and politics, to wit - government is the establishment responsible for the development, passage and enforcement of concrete laws governing society, whereas politics has to do with the open debate over the moral stance of the society that those laws govern. Naturally, the two systems rely on each other, because laws call into question the morality of application, and politics breed the bases upon which laws are based. Fine. The lines have blurred...more on that later. But the issue is that you cannot have a moral (or otherwise theoretical) debate without picking a stance and STICKING WITH IT. You can always change your opinion, and I actually think that it's a huge positive statement on your character and ability if you can listen to facts presented by your opposing mental combatant and admit the merits of their argument, but you have to admit you changed your opinion, not try and pretend apples are the same damn fruit as oranges. No. They are not.
That kind of crap has become the hallmark of the politically correct, bullshit modern era of politics - everyone has become so terrified of offending someone else that they refuse to stand for something concrete. I've noticed something funny, though...PEOPLE STILL GET OFFENDED. Look, here's an important memo to the folks who are so PC they won't speak more than five words without a publicist signing off on it: There are some people out there who are going to FIND something to be offended about, no matter how hard you try to appease them. Someone like the person I wrote about last time is going to be upset about anything you call the holiday season unless it is exactly what her concept of it is. That is not someone you need to be catering to...it's someone who needs to be presented with an extention ladder to get over herself with. And of course, it's all causal...people bitch about it because they have seen people do it before and be successful. Same for people who sue at the drop of a hat. Yeah, it sucks when you get hurt and have bills you can't pay and all of that. But that doesn't mean the world owes you. It means life sucks sometimes. It's a little offensive to me when people crack Quaker jokes - which they do, usually confusing Quakers with the Amish or with Mormons - but you know what? I know that it's because they don't know the first damn thing about Quakerism, and that's just the way the world is. So I shrug it off, because my life is not going to be adversely changed by the fact that someone made some joke about how Quakers don't use electricity.
Anyway, back to politics. I had a lip twitch going on the entire time I was watching Moral Court, because it was so digusting to me that someone would lie to a LOT of people just to get a job. It's like falsifying a resume. And yeah, you're right, everyone pumps up their resume a little. But you don't lie and say you're a mechanical engineer when in reality you are 18 and have never worked anything but mall retail. It's ludicrous. And the thing is? He had NO ISSUE with changing his party affiliation in order to get into office so he could then switch his position and do what he wanted. Politics has become a career, and that's not how it should be. Run for office because you care about affecting change, not for the paycheck. And STICK TO WHAT YOU SAY! Democrats are Democrats because they believe in the party. Ditto for Republicans. If you are not prepared to go along with the party goals and platforms that the party you affiliate yourself with promotes, then it is your moral obligation to run as a damn Independent.
In other political news, props to the Republicans - I know - for a smooth move with the troops out of Iraq play. They "gave in" to the Dems when they knew the Jackasses were too disorganized and hyped up on emotion to put forth an organized effort...and the result? Reps look magnanimous for considering and promoting the idea for the troops to be withdrawn, Dems look like idiots for putting forth incomplete legislative concepts and not being united.
On the other hand? Bush, Rove, Cheney, DeLay.
Oops.
Moral Court is a truly ridiculous show that only the brain dead and unemployed would ever watch, and it's too much dreck even for me, most of the time. Closer friends know that I always have something on in the background for white noise, so normally it's court shows - I particularly like The People's Court. (Gotta watch Wapner at three.) Moral Court is - obviously - not a real court show, but instead a sort of talk show shoehorned into a court looking set, and people get actual real money when they are proven "morally right." HAH! Awesome. Except not because it's usually utter crap and scary weird crazy people who like their Bibles a LOT. ANYWAY.
Today I happened to catch the tail end of a "case" involving - read this carefully - twin brothers running for the same office, one of whom had actually changed his party affiliation in order to run. That's the key thing; there's a lot of other crap like excessively similar campaign posters and what have you, but it doesn't really matter.
This is what politics have become and what parties have become - something completely fluid, with an complete absence of solidity. The political arena began life and, as far as I'm concerned, should REMAIN a forum in which to debate the moral issues of a society. This whole thing keys into my rant about the difference between government and politics, to wit - government is the establishment responsible for the development, passage and enforcement of concrete laws governing society, whereas politics has to do with the open debate over the moral stance of the society that those laws govern. Naturally, the two systems rely on each other, because laws call into question the morality of application, and politics breed the bases upon which laws are based. Fine. The lines have blurred...more on that later. But the issue is that you cannot have a moral (or otherwise theoretical) debate without picking a stance and STICKING WITH IT. You can always change your opinion, and I actually think that it's a huge positive statement on your character and ability if you can listen to facts presented by your opposing mental combatant and admit the merits of their argument, but you have to admit you changed your opinion, not try and pretend apples are the same damn fruit as oranges. No. They are not.
That kind of crap has become the hallmark of the politically correct, bullshit modern era of politics - everyone has become so terrified of offending someone else that they refuse to stand for something concrete. I've noticed something funny, though...PEOPLE STILL GET OFFENDED. Look, here's an important memo to the folks who are so PC they won't speak more than five words without a publicist signing off on it: There are some people out there who are going to FIND something to be offended about, no matter how hard you try to appease them. Someone like the person I wrote about last time is going to be upset about anything you call the holiday season unless it is exactly what her concept of it is. That is not someone you need to be catering to...it's someone who needs to be presented with an extention ladder to get over herself with. And of course, it's all causal...people bitch about it because they have seen people do it before and be successful. Same for people who sue at the drop of a hat. Yeah, it sucks when you get hurt and have bills you can't pay and all of that. But that doesn't mean the world owes you. It means life sucks sometimes. It's a little offensive to me when people crack Quaker jokes - which they do, usually confusing Quakers with the Amish or with Mormons - but you know what? I know that it's because they don't know the first damn thing about Quakerism, and that's just the way the world is. So I shrug it off, because my life is not going to be adversely changed by the fact that someone made some joke about how Quakers don't use electricity.
Anyway, back to politics. I had a lip twitch going on the entire time I was watching Moral Court, because it was so digusting to me that someone would lie to a LOT of people just to get a job. It's like falsifying a resume. And yeah, you're right, everyone pumps up their resume a little. But you don't lie and say you're a mechanical engineer when in reality you are 18 and have never worked anything but mall retail. It's ludicrous. And the thing is? He had NO ISSUE with changing his party affiliation in order to get into office so he could then switch his position and do what he wanted. Politics has become a career, and that's not how it should be. Run for office because you care about affecting change, not for the paycheck. And STICK TO WHAT YOU SAY! Democrats are Democrats because they believe in the party. Ditto for Republicans. If you are not prepared to go along with the party goals and platforms that the party you affiliate yourself with promotes, then it is your moral obligation to run as a damn Independent.
In other political news, props to the Republicans - I know - for a smooth move with the troops out of Iraq play. They "gave in" to the Dems when they knew the Jackasses were too disorganized and hyped up on emotion to put forth an organized effort...and the result? Reps look magnanimous for considering and promoting the idea for the troops to be withdrawn, Dems look like idiots for putting forth incomplete legislative concepts and not being united.
On the other hand? Bush, Rove, Cheney, DeLay.
Oops.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
It's a Festivus Miracle...
....all the morons have come out for their annual tard-fest!
For those of you who a.) pay attention to the news and b.) can be pissed to care about Walmart's various escapades (I usually perk up when Walmart is mentioned so I can hear how they're pissing on feminism and women in general this time.) will have noticed that they have managed to start the holiday hyper-PC season off this year. The best part is that the ridiculous behavior in the entire scene gives a whole new dimension to saying something abounds. Here's how it all goes down.
1. (I'm Guessing) Red State Shopper emails Walmart complaining that they DON'T use the word "Merry Christmas" in their advertising and stores, instead opting for the neutral "Happy Holidays."
How can anyone possibly care enough to email the company and complain that use a different set of two words than the two words the emailer prefers? I know that there are a lot of people who are more religious than I am, and that's fine, but...have people really not grasped that the entire world doesn't need to and WILL NOT conform to thier concept of what they think it should be? Really? In 2005? I'm starting to think that this kind of behavior is why we don't have flying cars yet, which is what I drew when I got the grade school "draw what the year 2000 will be like" project. I can understand thinking that I would do something differently, or that I don't like something, but..."Happy Holidays" is so innocuous. Can't this Shopper realize that there are in fact people who do not celebrate Christmas? Does she think Christians are being discriminated against? When you can find exclusively Christmas-oriented shops in any Mall or main shopping drag in the country? When was the last time you saw a Hanukkah store or a Kwanzaa shop? In any case, it gets better.
2. "Kirby" from Walmart replies with this email: "Walmart is a world wide organization and must remain conscious of this. The majority of the world still has different practices other than "christmas" which is an ancient tradition that has its roots in Siberian shamanism. The colors associated with "christmas" red and white are actually a representation of the aminita mascera mushroom. Santa is also borrowed from the Caucuses, mistletoe from the Celts, yule log from the Goths, the time from the Visigoth and the tree from the worship of Baal. It is a wide wide world."
You.
Idiot.
This is Working For Any Company In The Freaking World 101. You don't get into any kind of political or religious discussion with someone IN OR OUTSIDE your company, ESPECIALLY not as a representative of your company to a customer. Whether it's true or not - I am sure anyone reading this has heard a million explanations of how other cultures, practices, and religions influenced the Christmas holiday - it is not your decision to make! Don't say it! Shut! Up! I don't know how it could be that anyone could first NOT realize how ridiculous people are about being politically correct, NOT realize that someone who has her panties in a twist about the Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays distinction should MAYBE be handled delicately in regard to Christmas tradition, and then finally NOT realize how inappropriate it is to write an email like that as a representative of a company!
But wait, there's more!
3. The Catholic League - whose logo/crest, it should be noted, is nothing more than a shield with a sword and the initials "CL" superimposed on it - read this, and instead of saying "you are both batshit, and this is petty," rallies 126 other christian groups to boycott Walmart because yo, Christians came up with EVERYTHING Christmassy by THEMSELVES, y'all, and there is NO way that there is ANY outside influence ever came into the picture.
I don't usually see eye to eye with Catholics in general, or all of the various other Christian churches, but I certainly do see the merit in them, and I think generally having a guide which says "being nice to people is a good idea" is okay with me. But come on! This is like when the ACLU allowed their name to be attached to that jerk Michael Newdow's case. (PS - Shut up, 9th District Court.) Yeah, I know, I know, the lawyer was just ACLU SANCTIONED. Yeah. I know. Whatever. The letters "A," "C," "L" and "U" appear together in major news media, and baby, you're involved. JUST. WALK. AWAY. Christ. This highlights my exact problem with many of the Christian organizations in America - everything has to be fought over, and any percieved slight to their cause and belief merits no less than a duel to the death. I want to know how this is in ANY way a. ) any of the Catholic League's business, or b.) something worth being upset over.
4. The demands that must be satisfied for the boycott to be called off? "We want a) an apology for insulting Christians by effectively banning Christmas and b) a withdrawal of its insane statement regarding the origins of Christmas and c) a revision on its website [where customers who search for "Christmas" are redirected to a "Holiday" page despite specific pages for Kwanzaa and Hanukkah]."
I just gave this its own section because it's so juvenile and dementedly worded. THEY HURT MY FEELINGS MOMMY MAKE THEM SAY SORRY! You know what happened why my mom made Superfly and Aloha Lady apologize to me for whatever childhood wrong had been committed? It just felt hollow and insincere and prompted the combatants to think of more ways to booby trap each other.
5. WALMART CAVES.
For God's sake people, come on. Why can't you just say "this is bullshit, Christians are not only denominations who shop at Walmart, NO CRYING IN BASEBALL, YOU IDIOTS"? WHY? It's just so stupid. I can get switching the search engine function, okay, fine. But come on, this whole thing is ridiculous.
Every year the fights over how simple good wishes for holidays should be worded makes me feel sick to my stomach, and reminds me how soft everyone seems to have gotten. No, I don't think people should be using racial slurs or lighting crosses on fire or putting up Holocaustian "No Jews" signs, but this kind of stupidity, where people are simply wishing others a happy holiday? Not even CLOSE, and SO not worth this kind of battle. Is there a reason a Jewish person can't say "Thanks, but I'm Jewish. Have a good holiday," in response to someone wishing them a merry Christmas? Or and even more ambiguous "I don't celebrate it, but thanks"? Is there any reason someone can't reply to "Happy Holidays" with "thanks, merry Christmas"? (Secret hint! The answer to all of these rhetorical questions is "no.") At the same time people are becoming more sensitive and destoying sensitivity. I personally find it a little creepy that people want so badly to meld all of the holidays into one big blob so they never have to admit that people are different. I think it's AWESOME that there are so many great celebrations in a short span - starting with the 100% American Thanksgiving, where homage is paid to pilgrims, really extravagant parades, football, drum corps, eating until you have to lay on the floor to digest and the Fabric of Our Lives, then moving on to watching how each religion, country and family celebrates the end of a year and being together, which is the great part. Don't fight, guys. Jeez.
We made real progress on the yard today...my fingers are still a little tweaky after pulling some very pernicious weeds, but we still have tomorrow to finish up. I think we both got so exasperated that we called it quits. Skeezix got a new leafblower, which LOOKED very hardcore but actually kind of sucked. It was a Ryobi one, and it's a shame because up to this point I've been impressed by Ryobi's stuff, i.e. Dad's hardcored drill/flashlight combo set. But all the attachments started vibrating off when Skeezy tried to use it! Obviously no good. My ring is in getting fixed...I am crossing my fingers that the emerald makes it through, but as the jeweler said, "hopefully the luck of the Irish will come through, eh?" It's just so soft, bending it again might do it in. Crossed fingers everyone! Skeezix - I have got to get a better nickname for him - got me a beautiful necklace for our six month anniversary...It's a sweet little silver pendant with a rose carved on either side (the flower taking up the whole face on one side, and then blossom and stem on the other), and a freshwater pearl above it, hanging from a really delicate silver chain. It is BEAUTIFUL and falls just right. I swear he reads my mind - it's exactly the kind of thing I would have picked out for myself. I love him so much.
The handyman was here this week and put up a wall for Sloth in the basement and a vanity in the bathroom. Dad's gonna have at the sink and the garbage disposal, which I am SO ready for. Yay for handy Dads!
I also called Meathead to ask for the piano Grandpa built, because she told Ma that they sold it a while ago. Skeezix and I are going to try and find it and buy it from whoever bought it. She didn't remember off hand, so she has until Wednesday to get back to me or I'm calling again. I have also been looking through Grandpa's bonsai book, and it's completely fascinating. (Hee! In looking for bonsai links, I found a website that makes miniature crashed cars for you to display with your bonsai. Hah!) I am going to try and work with the bonsai I inherited and make it a real masterpiece - I never realized how much there was to these little trees. Hopefully I can really get rolling with them.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
For those of you who a.) pay attention to the news and b.) can be pissed to care about Walmart's various escapades (I usually perk up when Walmart is mentioned so I can hear how they're pissing on feminism and women in general this time.) will have noticed that they have managed to start the holiday hyper-PC season off this year. The best part is that the ridiculous behavior in the entire scene gives a whole new dimension to saying something abounds. Here's how it all goes down.
1. (I'm Guessing) Red State Shopper emails Walmart complaining that they DON'T use the word "Merry Christmas" in their advertising and stores, instead opting for the neutral "Happy Holidays."
How can anyone possibly care enough to email the company and complain that use a different set of two words than the two words the emailer prefers? I know that there are a lot of people who are more religious than I am, and that's fine, but...have people really not grasped that the entire world doesn't need to and WILL NOT conform to thier concept of what they think it should be? Really? In 2005? I'm starting to think that this kind of behavior is why we don't have flying cars yet, which is what I drew when I got the grade school "draw what the year 2000 will be like" project. I can understand thinking that I would do something differently, or that I don't like something, but..."Happy Holidays" is so innocuous. Can't this Shopper realize that there are in fact people who do not celebrate Christmas? Does she think Christians are being discriminated against? When you can find exclusively Christmas-oriented shops in any Mall or main shopping drag in the country? When was the last time you saw a Hanukkah store or a Kwanzaa shop? In any case, it gets better.
2. "Kirby" from Walmart replies with this email: "Walmart is a world wide organization and must remain conscious of this. The majority of the world still has different practices other than "christmas" which is an ancient tradition that has its roots in Siberian shamanism. The colors associated with "christmas" red and white are actually a representation of the aminita mascera mushroom. Santa is also borrowed from the Caucuses, mistletoe from the Celts, yule log from the Goths, the time from the Visigoth and the tree from the worship of Baal. It is a wide wide world."
You.
Idiot.
This is Working For Any Company In The Freaking World 101. You don't get into any kind of political or religious discussion with someone IN OR OUTSIDE your company, ESPECIALLY not as a representative of your company to a customer. Whether it's true or not - I am sure anyone reading this has heard a million explanations of how other cultures, practices, and religions influenced the Christmas holiday - it is not your decision to make! Don't say it! Shut! Up! I don't know how it could be that anyone could first NOT realize how ridiculous people are about being politically correct, NOT realize that someone who has her panties in a twist about the Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays distinction should MAYBE be handled delicately in regard to Christmas tradition, and then finally NOT realize how inappropriate it is to write an email like that as a representative of a company!
But wait, there's more!
3. The Catholic League - whose logo/crest, it should be noted, is nothing more than a shield with a sword and the initials "CL" superimposed on it - read this, and instead of saying "you are both batshit, and this is petty," rallies 126 other christian groups to boycott Walmart because yo, Christians came up with EVERYTHING Christmassy by THEMSELVES, y'all, and there is NO way that there is ANY outside influence ever came into the picture.
I don't usually see eye to eye with Catholics in general, or all of the various other Christian churches, but I certainly do see the merit in them, and I think generally having a guide which says "being nice to people is a good idea" is okay with me. But come on! This is like when the ACLU allowed their name to be attached to that jerk Michael Newdow's case. (PS - Shut up, 9th District Court.) Yeah, I know, I know, the lawyer was just ACLU SANCTIONED. Yeah. I know. Whatever. The letters "A," "C," "L" and "U" appear together in major news media, and baby, you're involved. JUST. WALK. AWAY. Christ. This highlights my exact problem with many of the Christian organizations in America - everything has to be fought over, and any percieved slight to their cause and belief merits no less than a duel to the death. I want to know how this is in ANY way a. ) any of the Catholic League's business, or b.) something worth being upset over.
4. The demands that must be satisfied for the boycott to be called off? "We want a) an apology for insulting Christians by effectively banning Christmas and b) a withdrawal of its insane statement regarding the origins of Christmas and c) a revision on its website [where customers who search for "Christmas" are redirected to a "Holiday" page despite specific pages for Kwanzaa and Hanukkah]."
I just gave this its own section because it's so juvenile and dementedly worded. THEY HURT MY FEELINGS MOMMY MAKE THEM SAY SORRY! You know what happened why my mom made Superfly and Aloha Lady apologize to me for whatever childhood wrong had been committed? It just felt hollow and insincere and prompted the combatants to think of more ways to booby trap each other.
5. WALMART CAVES.
For God's sake people, come on. Why can't you just say "this is bullshit, Christians are not only denominations who shop at Walmart, NO CRYING IN BASEBALL, YOU IDIOTS"? WHY? It's just so stupid. I can get switching the search engine function, okay, fine. But come on, this whole thing is ridiculous.
Every year the fights over how simple good wishes for holidays should be worded makes me feel sick to my stomach, and reminds me how soft everyone seems to have gotten. No, I don't think people should be using racial slurs or lighting crosses on fire or putting up Holocaustian "No Jews" signs, but this kind of stupidity, where people are simply wishing others a happy holiday? Not even CLOSE, and SO not worth this kind of battle. Is there a reason a Jewish person can't say "Thanks, but I'm Jewish. Have a good holiday," in response to someone wishing them a merry Christmas? Or and even more ambiguous "I don't celebrate it, but thanks"? Is there any reason someone can't reply to "Happy Holidays" with "thanks, merry Christmas"? (Secret hint! The answer to all of these rhetorical questions is "no.") At the same time people are becoming more sensitive and destoying sensitivity. I personally find it a little creepy that people want so badly to meld all of the holidays into one big blob so they never have to admit that people are different. I think it's AWESOME that there are so many great celebrations in a short span - starting with the 100% American Thanksgiving, where homage is paid to pilgrims, really extravagant parades, football, drum corps, eating until you have to lay on the floor to digest and the Fabric of Our Lives, then moving on to watching how each religion, country and family celebrates the end of a year and being together, which is the great part. Don't fight, guys. Jeez.
We made real progress on the yard today...my fingers are still a little tweaky after pulling some very pernicious weeds, but we still have tomorrow to finish up. I think we both got so exasperated that we called it quits. Skeezix got a new leafblower, which LOOKED very hardcore but actually kind of sucked. It was a Ryobi one, and it's a shame because up to this point I've been impressed by Ryobi's stuff, i.e. Dad's hardcored drill/flashlight combo set. But all the attachments started vibrating off when Skeezy tried to use it! Obviously no good. My ring is in getting fixed...I am crossing my fingers that the emerald makes it through, but as the jeweler said, "hopefully the luck of the Irish will come through, eh?" It's just so soft, bending it again might do it in. Crossed fingers everyone! Skeezix - I have got to get a better nickname for him - got me a beautiful necklace for our six month anniversary...It's a sweet little silver pendant with a rose carved on either side (the flower taking up the whole face on one side, and then blossom and stem on the other), and a freshwater pearl above it, hanging from a really delicate silver chain. It is BEAUTIFUL and falls just right. I swear he reads my mind - it's exactly the kind of thing I would have picked out for myself. I love him so much.
The handyman was here this week and put up a wall for Sloth in the basement and a vanity in the bathroom. Dad's gonna have at the sink and the garbage disposal, which I am SO ready for. Yay for handy Dads!
I also called Meathead to ask for the piano Grandpa built, because she told Ma that they sold it a while ago. Skeezix and I are going to try and find it and buy it from whoever bought it. She didn't remember off hand, so she has until Wednesday to get back to me or I'm calling again. I have also been looking through Grandpa's bonsai book, and it's completely fascinating. (Hee! In looking for bonsai links, I found a website that makes miniature crashed cars for you to display with your bonsai. Hah!) I am going to try and work with the bonsai I inherited and make it a real masterpiece - I never realized how much there was to these little trees. Hopefully I can really get rolling with them.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
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