So the 40th Anniversary Party From Hades was last night. It went extremely well. I will be eating roast beef and turkey sandwiches until sometime in April 2013, but it went well. Everyone RSVPed except two of my cousins - one who I knew wouldn't come as they live several thousand miles from here, and one who I knew wouldn't come as that's the way things have been lately. I was mightily pooped today. Went to bed finally somewhere between 12:30 and 1. The folks came over today and we ate up some more of the leftovers and I sent them home with quite a few as well. So it was good.
Also took a few to update my 101 goals list. I need to get moving as I should really be at a 1 per 10 days pace. Have been slowly working on one or two but need to knock more off. Am going to start memorizing poems, I think. Can do those fairly fast...
Showing posts with label adventures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventures. Show all posts
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
This is a test, this is only a test
Just trying to see what happens if I type now and try to post later...
Went to the game tonight (Tues). Awesome! Won 9-3, much fun had by all. Crowd was a tad obnoxious towards the opposing team due to the rivalry, so that was fun. Idiot kid jumped on the field. Bet THAT'S going to be a fun phone call home to his parents...
ETA: Yes, it does work! Imagine that... ;)
Went to the game tonight (Tues). Awesome! Won 9-3, much fun had by all. Crowd was a tad obnoxious towards the opposing team due to the rivalry, so that was fun. Idiot kid jumped on the field. Bet THAT'S going to be a fun phone call home to his parents...
ETA: Yes, it does work! Imagine that... ;)
Sunday, June 08, 2008
SOTD, job update, heckuva good story
- Song Of The Day: Dimming of the Day
I had forgotten how much I like this. It's just lovely. Simple and sweet and lovely. B gave me a mix tape many years ago with Bonnie Raitt's recording on it. I'd somehow never heard it before. I was reminded of it today as I heard bits of this week's PHC - go to their website to catch Ms. Raitt and what I believe is the composer himself singing the song live: http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/. That girl's got some pipes.
PHC is a grand gift to humanity. It's so good to know the old time radio variety show still exists. And with music to rock anyone's world. I laugh, I cry. Every week.
Anyway, back to SOTD: The song was written by Richard Thompson and first recorded by him in 1975, I think.
Lyrics and suchlike here: http://www.richardthompson-music.com/song_o_matic.asp?id=74
- Job update:
We had a big breakfast meeting at the OCB on Friday and among other things, my boss asked all leaving to stand and be recognized and thanked for all they've done. She read off the names of everyone who was leaving. It sounded like she was reading off a list of war dead. God. And then to make the comparison even more unfortunately apt, they showed a PowerPoint with pictures of all those leaving with some sappy song as the soundtrack. Luckily for me, the song contained Willie Nelson, so I was able to keep some perspective. Still, not my favorite meeting ever.
This whole thing has sucked for months now and even though I finally have some vague clue what's happening, it's going to continue to suck. It's just going to suck in ways I don't yet fully comprehend.
Anyway.
Not totally related, but as the job is much slower in the summer I've spent the weekend coming up with a list of summer projects. It's huge. I get so little done during the other months. Finally thought of a decent way to describe my job. Nine months of the year I belong to other people. Three months I belong to myself.
And, well, it's closer to 9 1/2 and 2 1/2, but that's another thing.
- So here's the best story I've had for quite a while.
Several of us went out after work on Thursday. We went out after work on Wednesday too, but I digress. Anyway. We started at an establishment on campus, had a couple of coneys and then wandered across the street for a fishbowl. Life was good - hey, we weren't at work. We hopped back into our cars to drive maybe 1/2 mile south to yet another establishment. It was closed, but the biker establishment next door was open, so we wandered in. What nice people. A bit of a townie (not in the British sense) place - everyone knew each other's names, they had pull tabs, everything was dirt cheap - but we like that kind of place. Everyone was terribly friendly, including our waitress.
So for whatever reason, J and K wanted to do pull-tabs. I tend to avoid that sort of thing as Throwing Money Down A Rat Hole Which I Can Ill Afford, but what the heck, it does go to charity, and we were celebrating. K calls pull-tabs "paper crack," which is easily the best definition I've ever heard. Anyway. We all chuck in a few bucks, J goes over to the booth which is in every townie establishment I've ever been in, and brings back the paper crack.
We begin to pull. Papers litter the table. I'm all proud of myself as I've pulled a couple of $2 winners, even a $4. K pulls one or two winners as well. Then J says, "Oh my God."
What? What?
He just pulled a $599 pull tab.
Then K and I say "Oh my God." ARE YOU JOKING?!? He shows us. He wasn't joking.
No. Way.
We promptly started squealing, high-fiving, taking pictures, and calling and texting everyone we could think of. We could hardly believe it. What were the chances?
So I am now approximately $200 richer than I once was, and contemplating how best to spend my windfall. K got a massage. J is considering spending it on gas, which I hope I nipped in the bud. I mean, really. At least get gas for your boat, for Jah's sake. And me? Idunno as of yet. My mother suggested a new vacuum. I, of course, laughed.
Our day continued with a trip on the light rail in the rain, more food, more drink, and a game of Candyland. In Spanish.
It was a good day.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Today didn't suck
I'm a tiny bit crispy; just a little pink in the upper chest and the tops of my arms. Don't feel all that hot - sun, wind, scary Biffs, too much crappy food and a few adult libations will do that to you. But now I'm out of the sun, have had a chance to go to a real bathroom, and have a little of the pink stuff, so I'm feeling much better.
Some serious hard core adventures today. Get Out of Jail Free cards will get that for you.
I of course was late getting to J's house. I swear he said to turn left at Bill's... anyway, I was driving around and around and around - the whole thing was exactly like "Little Boxes". Except there was a tan one, and a tan one, and a tan one, and a tan one...
We ended up singing the song much of the day. It's a bit... insidious, I suppose one could say. Sticks with a person. Oh boy, does it.
Anyway, after multiple phone calls and stops for map viewing, I made it to J's little box and J and K and I left for breakfast. They hopped in my car and we drove downtown. My car - really, all cars - are just too small for J. And of course he accidentally hit the seat warmer on the way in and had a conniption fit. "Why the hell is my butt warm?!?" he roared. "How the hell do you turn it off?!?" K and I were laughing so hard we couldn't see, which isn't good when you're driving down the Interstate at 60. Man.
We met P at a cool little greasy spoon down on campus. The place is a riot. It's maybe the width of my bedroom, at best; something like 10 feet. Seriously. There's a long counter of about 14 stools, and the line forms behind the stools. There's barely room to breathe. It is not a place for the claustrophobic or the obese. Once someone finishes eating, the first person in line must somehow find space to scootch between the stools and the line in the back to the empty stool in question. You sit down to stare at a wall full of memorabilia, mainly money from various foreign countries, all dusty. The main cook is to the right, flipping pancakes and hashbrowns on the oldest equipment I believe I've ever seen still in use. He must have asbestos fingers. Turned a lot of stuff with the hands. Wow. And of course they do the stereotypical diner technique of yelling out orders and that they need more round plates and all that stuff. Any customer who breaks the many unwritten rules is yelled at as well. Much fun. And darned tasty food. I had blueberry pancakes and hashbrowns and was quite content. Oof.
For some bizarre reason, J and K got a bee in their bonnet that we needed to go down the road to some scary little joint that I suspect would be truly frightening at night. What drives anyone to drink their breakfast, I don't know. There were several older men in there doing just that. We didn't fit in, and I have to say I'm glad of it. But it was an experience. Getting there was craziness in itself - I was driving, had no idea where I was going, and J didn't have too many clues either. That led to one of the hands-down best lines of the day. He told me to take a right turn and then said "take the turn a little wide in case we need to abort." Nice.
We headed back to J's house to pick up the boat, the snackies, and the other important accoutrements to a day on the water.
Then, out to the lake. It's not a far drive in miles but it's a little amusing in the change of the people and the things. The lake has been the city person's and rich person's playground for over 100 years, and it shows. It's an interesting place. The lake is big and wandering, with lots of interconnected bays. The channels between the bays are often so narrow that there's bridges over them with roads and railroads crossing and crisscrossing. There're quite a few charter operations on the water, including the one with the local football team and the boat scandal of a year or two ago. We passed by that place, which was a nice moment. Some beautiful old historic steamboats and wooden motorboats, huge houses, rich folks and their toys.
We saw lots of funny things. One of the longer bridges had some entertaining graffiti: OPD Blows (heart) Seniors '08. And they signed it. That was smart. I'm sure the police department in question will never, never see it and never, never catch them. They're too wily. J loves to drive as fast as possible, then slows way down so we can just float and soak up the atmosphere. We played chicken with a couple geese at one point. We saw a boat floating mysteriously and appearing unoccupied... but we're pretty sure we know what was going on inside. We debated about going over and "asking if they needed help," but figured we'd likely see more than we really needed to see.
We also went to a couple of dockside establishments, the type where you can pull your boat up to a slip and go in to have one or two. They have parking attendants, so to speak, guys that come up and help you tie and untie your boat. Very posh. We saw several rich kids back from college, busily hitting on the waitresses. Oh, the humanity. We just wanted to smack so many of them. Honey, gotta tell you: you aren't as good looking as you think you are. Lots of women with fake tans and too many plastic surgeries wearing clothes that just screamed that they were searching for Husband #4. And then what had to be a first date with some woman and a guy who looked like Mike Ditka. He was so earnest, the poor guy. One wonders how it all came out.
So we went home early, really, by 6:30 or so, but we were just exhausted. All day in the sun will do that to you. We had a great time, though, and like I said, it didn't suck.
What a wonderful day.
Some serious hard core adventures today. Get Out of Jail Free cards will get that for you.
I of course was late getting to J's house. I swear he said to turn left at Bill's... anyway, I was driving around and around and around - the whole thing was exactly like "Little Boxes". Except there was a tan one, and a tan one, and a tan one, and a tan one...
We ended up singing the song much of the day. It's a bit... insidious, I suppose one could say. Sticks with a person. Oh boy, does it.
Anyway, after multiple phone calls and stops for map viewing, I made it to J's little box and J and K and I left for breakfast. They hopped in my car and we drove downtown. My car - really, all cars - are just too small for J. And of course he accidentally hit the seat warmer on the way in and had a conniption fit. "Why the hell is my butt warm?!?" he roared. "How the hell do you turn it off?!?" K and I were laughing so hard we couldn't see, which isn't good when you're driving down the Interstate at 60. Man.
We met P at a cool little greasy spoon down on campus. The place is a riot. It's maybe the width of my bedroom, at best; something like 10 feet. Seriously. There's a long counter of about 14 stools, and the line forms behind the stools. There's barely room to breathe. It is not a place for the claustrophobic or the obese. Once someone finishes eating, the first person in line must somehow find space to scootch between the stools and the line in the back to the empty stool in question. You sit down to stare at a wall full of memorabilia, mainly money from various foreign countries, all dusty. The main cook is to the right, flipping pancakes and hashbrowns on the oldest equipment I believe I've ever seen still in use. He must have asbestos fingers. Turned a lot of stuff with the hands. Wow. And of course they do the stereotypical diner technique of yelling out orders and that they need more round plates and all that stuff. Any customer who breaks the many unwritten rules is yelled at as well. Much fun. And darned tasty food. I had blueberry pancakes and hashbrowns and was quite content. Oof.
For some bizarre reason, J and K got a bee in their bonnet that we needed to go down the road to some scary little joint that I suspect would be truly frightening at night. What drives anyone to drink their breakfast, I don't know. There were several older men in there doing just that. We didn't fit in, and I have to say I'm glad of it. But it was an experience. Getting there was craziness in itself - I was driving, had no idea where I was going, and J didn't have too many clues either. That led to one of the hands-down best lines of the day. He told me to take a right turn and then said "take the turn a little wide in case we need to abort." Nice.
We headed back to J's house to pick up the boat, the snackies, and the other important accoutrements to a day on the water.
Then, out to the lake. It's not a far drive in miles but it's a little amusing in the change of the people and the things. The lake has been the city person's and rich person's playground for over 100 years, and it shows. It's an interesting place. The lake is big and wandering, with lots of interconnected bays. The channels between the bays are often so narrow that there's bridges over them with roads and railroads crossing and crisscrossing. There're quite a few charter operations on the water, including the one with the local football team and the boat scandal of a year or two ago. We passed by that place, which was a nice moment. Some beautiful old historic steamboats and wooden motorboats, huge houses, rich folks and their toys.
We saw lots of funny things. One of the longer bridges had some entertaining graffiti: OPD Blows (heart) Seniors '08. And they signed it. That was smart. I'm sure the police department in question will never, never see it and never, never catch them. They're too wily. J loves to drive as fast as possible, then slows way down so we can just float and soak up the atmosphere. We played chicken with a couple geese at one point. We saw a boat floating mysteriously and appearing unoccupied... but we're pretty sure we know what was going on inside. We debated about going over and "asking if they needed help," but figured we'd likely see more than we really needed to see.
We also went to a couple of dockside establishments, the type where you can pull your boat up to a slip and go in to have one or two. They have parking attendants, so to speak, guys that come up and help you tie and untie your boat. Very posh. We saw several rich kids back from college, busily hitting on the waitresses. Oh, the humanity. We just wanted to smack so many of them. Honey, gotta tell you: you aren't as good looking as you think you are. Lots of women with fake tans and too many plastic surgeries wearing clothes that just screamed that they were searching for Husband #4. And then what had to be a first date with some woman and a guy who looked like Mike Ditka. He was so earnest, the poor guy. One wonders how it all came out.
So we went home early, really, by 6:30 or so, but we were just exhausted. All day in the sun will do that to you. We had a great time, though, and like I said, it didn't suck.
What a wonderful day.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Playing Monopoly
I can't wait 'till Friday. Oh boy.
So my boss gave a few of us an exchange day for a massive project for which we put in a bunch of time back in February. In two lousy days, well 1 1/2 now, we're using our Get Out of Jail Free cards and blowing this popcorn stand.
(How many more metaphors can I mix in one sentence?)
The plan involves drinking, eating, and boating, not necessarily in that order. Friday is supposed to be 75 and sunny. Can we say hallelujah? So lunch today was spent watching deleted scenes from The Office and making a list of who is bringing what. I've got the honey peanut butter Cheerios thingies. Yum.
On the job scene, I'm still in a bit of a holding pattern, although it's not as bad as it was. I know I have a job now, at least; the 80% thing has been officially offered. Now it's just a matter of waiting 'till they determine if it can actually be full time. About once every two days there's a new scenario; most recent one is my job remains precisely the same. One can hope.
Just a note in the You Get What You Pay For department - don't buy $3.99 wine from Trader Joe's. I love Joe's for most things, but sometimes... *whew* I need to learn how to make vinegar.
Have also been determining summer plans. Have several work things plus a trip to OH to see a friend, so there's potential for some amusement. Only wish gas prices weren't so high. Jumped about 20 cents today. Also figured out I get a lousy 20 per gallon, on a good week. WTH? Should be more than that, with my car...
So my boss gave a few of us an exchange day for a massive project for which we put in a bunch of time back in February. In two lousy days, well 1 1/2 now, we're using our Get Out of Jail Free cards and blowing this popcorn stand.
(How many more metaphors can I mix in one sentence?)
The plan involves drinking, eating, and boating, not necessarily in that order. Friday is supposed to be 75 and sunny. Can we say hallelujah? So lunch today was spent watching deleted scenes from The Office and making a list of who is bringing what. I've got the honey peanut butter Cheerios thingies. Yum.
On the job scene, I'm still in a bit of a holding pattern, although it's not as bad as it was. I know I have a job now, at least; the 80% thing has been officially offered. Now it's just a matter of waiting 'till they determine if it can actually be full time. About once every two days there's a new scenario; most recent one is my job remains precisely the same. One can hope.
Just a note in the You Get What You Pay For department - don't buy $3.99 wine from Trader Joe's. I love Joe's for most things, but sometimes... *whew* I need to learn how to make vinegar.
Have also been determining summer plans. Have several work things plus a trip to OH to see a friend, so there's potential for some amusement. Only wish gas prices weren't so high. Jumped about 20 cents today. Also figured out I get a lousy 20 per gallon, on a good week. WTH? Should be more than that, with my car...
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Escapism
Saw Leatherheads tonight. Cute little thing. Have heard it described as George Clooney's love letter to the era and that's pretty well accurate, I think. The music is top notch - another Randy Newman score. It's beautifully lit, and has some very clever moments. And, well, George Clooney and John Krasinski? H.O.T. So that was a plus.
Also saw the trailer for the new Indy movie. Have been more than a little dubious, I admit it. But am starting to wonder if it really won't be that bad...
Also saw the trailer for the new Indy movie. Have been more than a little dubious, I admit it. But am starting to wonder if it really won't be that bad...
Friday, May 02, 2008
More stupid work talk, etc.
Meetings all day today and the only thing I got out of it was sympathy. No solid word yet. Am pretty disgusted with the lack thereof, to tell the truth. Rather startling thing that came out at a staff meeting was that once they figure out what jobs are still left, they will be posted externally. WTF? This means we need to apply for our own jobs?!?!? We were told we'd be automatically given a position if one was available. Lovely. Just lovely. I am definitely starting to feel screwed over, and I can't say as I like it.
Been thinking more on how I can economize and what I need to live on. I hate this. I've been out of college how long now? How much hard work? How much job experience? I shouldn't have to think like this.
I'm not normally this cynical and depressing, I swear.
Today marks exactly ten years since the downfall of Lord Voldemort. That's just about the coolest thing in the universe. Yay for The Boy Who Lived.
Tonight went to a theatrical production, a company of six teen actors that wrote most of the play themselves in collaboration with a teaching artist. I was extremely impressed. For junior high kids, they were well spoken, funny, moved well, were self possessed, and just generally kicked some serious butt.
Friend of mine and I were chatting about this lovely economy and she said that the budget that she and her husband have for gas is higher than their student loan payments. Oh yeah, no, we're not in a recession.
HEY! ATTENTION ALL THOSE IN CHARGE OF THESE THINGS!
THIS IS NOT GOOD!
And how on earth do you think a federal gas tax vacation will help? That'll save what, 18.4 cents per gallon? Current average is $3.48 in my area. So now I'm paying what, $3.30 at best, assuming prices don't go up even more? Ooooo..... Dude, news flash here: Cub coupons will pick that up for you.
My car has a 16.5 gallon tank. I fill up about 3 times a month. Let's do a little math, shall we?
(Jayzus. Shouldn't have done that math. The truth hurts. Yeowch.)
That makes for a grand total saved of...
(drum roll, please)
Now, I'm simplifying the math a tad as I don't go down to empty before I fill, so I actually spend a little less on gas. And $8.91 is $8.91. But really. It's like the tax rebate. What am I going to spend it on? Bills, of course. I'm not stupid.
How is that going to stimulate the economy?
ETA: Nice article in the Minnpost about it.
Been thinking more on how I can economize and what I need to live on. I hate this. I've been out of college how long now? How much hard work? How much job experience? I shouldn't have to think like this.
I'm not normally this cynical and depressing, I swear.
Today marks exactly ten years since the downfall of Lord Voldemort. That's just about the coolest thing in the universe. Yay for The Boy Who Lived.
Tonight went to a theatrical production, a company of six teen actors that wrote most of the play themselves in collaboration with a teaching artist. I was extremely impressed. For junior high kids, they were well spoken, funny, moved well, were self possessed, and just generally kicked some serious butt.
Friend of mine and I were chatting about this lovely economy and she said that the budget that she and her husband have for gas is higher than their student loan payments. Oh yeah, no, we're not in a recession.
HEY! ATTENTION ALL THOSE IN CHARGE OF THESE THINGS!
THIS IS NOT GOOD!
And how on earth do you think a federal gas tax vacation will help? That'll save what, 18.4 cents per gallon? Current average is $3.48 in my area. So now I'm paying what, $3.30 at best, assuming prices don't go up even more? Ooooo..... Dude, news flash here: Cub coupons will pick that up for you.
My car has a 16.5 gallon tank. I fill up about 3 times a month. Let's do a little math, shall we?
- 16.5 gallons x $3.48 per = $57.42 per fill up x 3 fill ups = $172.26 per month
(Jayzus. Shouldn't have done that math. The truth hurts. Yeowch.)
- 16.5 gallons x $3.30 per = $54.45 per fill up x 3 fill ups = $163.35 per month
That makes for a grand total saved of...
(drum roll, please)
- $8.91
Now, I'm simplifying the math a tad as I don't go down to empty before I fill, so I actually spend a little less on gas. And $8.91 is $8.91. But really. It's like the tax rebate. What am I going to spend it on? Bills, of course. I'm not stupid.
How is that going to stimulate the economy?
ETA: Nice article in the Minnpost about it.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Update for D...
...who is likely the only person who reads this.
*grin*
Let's see... what's new around here? Just my typical social butterfly weekend: Am going out to dinner tonight to some new place with an old friend. That'll be fun. Tomorrow am heading to B&Cs new place for dinner and cards, not that I know where they live. Best get on that. Need to do some hard core cleaning as might have something for work at my house Monday night. Cat peed on my sweatshirt again, so I'm thinking the litter needs to be on the list.
Have big stuff for work next weekend and need to make sure I'm ready for that as well... it's one of those projects where I'm sure I've forgotten something and that's what's making me crazy - that I can't recall what I've forgotten.
Speaking of work, it's been a bit rough lately. A HUGE reduction in force is coming. My building alone is losing somewhere around 29%. I'm quite likely to be on that list. Can't say as I'm so pumped about that. Rumors are flying - got a call last night from a colleague who was pretty irate that she was told her job would be changing. Used quite colorful language. One hopes she'll be OK. One hopes we'll all be OK. But it's not going to happen. Best case scenario: I'll still be there and my job will change. Much more likely: do you want fries with that?
There's not a ton that can be done about it. We don't have as much money coming in, costs have to be cut. That's simple economics. What pisses me off is that my department seems to be getting hit the hardest. Hard to tell how much of that is perception and how much is The Truth. It's also a bit rough that I work my butt off, am good at my job, am well liked, my bosses want to keep me, but I am likely to get cut anyway. Seniority hurts sometimes.
Have been thinking on how to make economies myself. Smaller apartment, no garage, cut out internet, no home phone and just keep the cell. But I don't want to do any of that. Shop more at Goodwill and consignment, which I tend to do anyway. Car is almost paid for, which is nice. Had a haircut today - which costs and arm and two legs, every 6-8 weeks. My cosmetologist said to let her know, and she and I can talk about how we can make things cheaper. I promised her I'd never fall in with evil companions and go to Great Clips. She laughed and said she'd hunt me down if I did.
Funny how a tiny little thing like that can make me feel better.
Anyway. That's depressing. What else...
Changed my computer wallpaper to a picture of my cats. Can't "p" again. Need to replace this keyboard but am too cheap, especially now. They're changing the carpeting in the hallways of my apartment building so my whole apartment smells like glue. The cats are going to get high pretty soon, unless they are already - L is already attempting to modify my post with her attention to the mouse and the keyboard. Already deleted several sentences; yay for the inventor of "undo." Designed a card for the selling crafts stuff thing I've been toying with. Dunno how serious I am about any of this but it's an exercise. Don't like the look of them but not sure what's bugging me. They look amateurish. paper is decent; maybe it's how they're cut. Idunno.
Went to the big jugglefest last weekend and got closer to learning to juggle. That's just about the best people watching on earth. Anything that includes combat juggling and unicycle hockey is bound to be good. I even got up on a unicycle myself and with C's help managed to get at least a half turn of the wheel before I fell off. Good times. And J didn't knock himself in a particularly sensitive place so hard he fell over and curled into a fetal position, like what happened last time I went. Life is good.
Enough babbling for now, doncha think? I'd best pet the cat and distract her before things really get out of hand...
*grin*
Let's see... what's new around here? Just my typical social butterfly weekend: Am going out to dinner tonight to some new place with an old friend. That'll be fun. Tomorrow am heading to B&Cs new place for dinner and cards, not that I know where they live. Best get on that. Need to do some hard core cleaning as might have something for work at my house Monday night. Cat peed on my sweatshirt again, so I'm thinking the litter needs to be on the list.
Have big stuff for work next weekend and need to make sure I'm ready for that as well... it's one of those projects where I'm sure I've forgotten something and that's what's making me crazy - that I can't recall what I've forgotten.
Speaking of work, it's been a bit rough lately. A HUGE reduction in force is coming. My building alone is losing somewhere around 29%. I'm quite likely to be on that list. Can't say as I'm so pumped about that. Rumors are flying - got a call last night from a colleague who was pretty irate that she was told her job would be changing. Used quite colorful language. One hopes she'll be OK. One hopes we'll all be OK. But it's not going to happen. Best case scenario: I'll still be there and my job will change. Much more likely: do you want fries with that?
There's not a ton that can be done about it. We don't have as much money coming in, costs have to be cut. That's simple economics. What pisses me off is that my department seems to be getting hit the hardest. Hard to tell how much of that is perception and how much is The Truth. It's also a bit rough that I work my butt off, am good at my job, am well liked, my bosses want to keep me, but I am likely to get cut anyway. Seniority hurts sometimes.
Have been thinking on how to make economies myself. Smaller apartment, no garage, cut out internet, no home phone and just keep the cell. But I don't want to do any of that. Shop more at Goodwill and consignment, which I tend to do anyway. Car is almost paid for, which is nice. Had a haircut today - which costs and arm and two legs, every 6-8 weeks. My cosmetologist said to let her know, and she and I can talk about how we can make things cheaper. I promised her I'd never fall in with evil companions and go to Great Clips. She laughed and said she'd hunt me down if I did.
Funny how a tiny little thing like that can make me feel better.
Anyway. That's depressing. What else...
Changed my computer wallpaper to a picture of my cats. Can't "p" again. Need to replace this keyboard but am too cheap, especially now. They're changing the carpeting in the hallways of my apartment building so my whole apartment smells like glue. The cats are going to get high pretty soon, unless they are already - L is already attempting to modify my post with her attention to the mouse and the keyboard. Already deleted several sentences; yay for the inventor of "undo." Designed a card for the selling crafts stuff thing I've been toying with. Dunno how serious I am about any of this but it's an exercise. Don't like the look of them but not sure what's bugging me. They look amateurish. paper is decent; maybe it's how they're cut. Idunno.
Went to the big jugglefest last weekend and got closer to learning to juggle. That's just about the best people watching on earth. Anything that includes combat juggling and unicycle hockey is bound to be good. I even got up on a unicycle myself and with C's help managed to get at least a half turn of the wheel before I fell off. Good times. And J didn't knock himself in a particularly sensitive place so hard he fell over and curled into a fetal position, like what happened last time I went. Life is good.
Enough babbling for now, doncha think? I'd best pet the cat and distract her before things really get out of hand...
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Sumer is a cumin in
Went to a tiki bar today after work and...
Got. To. Sit. Outside.
Can you believe it?! Finally. FINALLY. The weather is nice enough to actually be outside for more than 30 seconds, and without a coat, too. Granted, we did bag it and go inside within an hour or two, but still.
And I am now the proud owner of a new tiki mug, whom we have christianed Mr. Smead. He's going in my office with the naked lady swizzle stick. A profitable evening.
Got. To. Sit. Outside.
Can you believe it?! Finally. FINALLY. The weather is nice enough to actually be outside for more than 30 seconds, and without a coat, too. Granted, we did bag it and go inside within an hour or two, but still.
And I am now the proud owner of a new tiki mug, whom we have christianed Mr. Smead. He's going in my office with the naked lady swizzle stick. A profitable evening.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Had some excitement at church this morning. Was out in the gathering space (fancy name for huge foyer area) checking to make sure the volume was up high enough so people out there could hear when I heard this beep...beep...beep...
Hmm.
Grabbed my father. Dragged him out there. Asked him if he heard it too.
He listened for a bit... yes, yes he did.
Uh oh.
So we went trucking towards the source of the sound, which seemed to be coming from the part of the church that opens up into the Hall (area for wedding receptions, chicken dinners, bingo and the like). It kept getting louder. Beep... BEEP... BEEP! We grabbed the music director on the way, as she was walking by and has keys for everything. The sound kept getting louder as we three headed towards the school. Was that the fire alarm? Was the school on fire? Were we going to have to evacuate a good 1500 people in the church?
We got through the last door into the school and found adults leading what looked like 1st graders out the door. Just a drill, they said.
Just a drill? What the heck were they thinking, just a drill? Could it have occurred to them to warn us that they'd be conducting a fire drill during church? Could they maybe have bumped the thing back a lousy 30 minutes to avoid all this in the first place? I could have strangled somebody. Who knows what sort of panic that could have set off. Think, people, think. *sigh*
Although in hindsight, it's a little scary that the gathering space was full of people who didn't want to be in the main sanctuary for some reason (small children and the like) and no one came in to tell any of us about the alarm.
When you usher in a large parish, you get used to things happening. We haven't had somebody go down in a few weeks, but we're always prepared to have to call the local Finest to come out and save the day. We have EMTs come to visit several times a year. Fainting is the most common, but we've also had diabetic reactions and heart issues.
Scariest one ever (that I had anything to do with) was the poor Mexican woman who had come to church in a vain search for comfort... she couldn't reach her sick father in Mexico by telephone and was terrified he had died... she kept banging her head against the wall and asking God to take her instead of her father...
Hmm.
Grabbed my father. Dragged him out there. Asked him if he heard it too.
He listened for a bit... yes, yes he did.
Uh oh.
So we went trucking towards the source of the sound, which seemed to be coming from the part of the church that opens up into the Hall (area for wedding receptions, chicken dinners, bingo and the like). It kept getting louder. Beep... BEEP... BEEP! We grabbed the music director on the way, as she was walking by and has keys for everything. The sound kept getting louder as we three headed towards the school. Was that the fire alarm? Was the school on fire? Were we going to have to evacuate a good 1500 people in the church?
We got through the last door into the school and found adults leading what looked like 1st graders out the door. Just a drill, they said.
Just a drill? What the heck were they thinking, just a drill? Could it have occurred to them to warn us that they'd be conducting a fire drill during church? Could they maybe have bumped the thing back a lousy 30 minutes to avoid all this in the first place? I could have strangled somebody. Who knows what sort of panic that could have set off. Think, people, think. *sigh*
Although in hindsight, it's a little scary that the gathering space was full of people who didn't want to be in the main sanctuary for some reason (small children and the like) and no one came in to tell any of us about the alarm.
When you usher in a large parish, you get used to things happening. We haven't had somebody go down in a few weeks, but we're always prepared to have to call the local Finest to come out and save the day. We have EMTs come to visit several times a year. Fainting is the most common, but we've also had diabetic reactions and heart issues.
Scariest one ever (that I had anything to do with) was the poor Mexican woman who had come to church in a vain search for comfort... she couldn't reach her sick father in Mexico by telephone and was terrified he had died... she kept banging her head against the wall and asking God to take her instead of her father...
Thursday, September 06, 2007
OH my God.
Oh MY God.
Oh my GOD.
OH. MY. GOD!!!
OK, so I have a really good story.
I got home from work after another long day determined to get some tasks done around here that have been much put off. I got to the grocery store, put dishes in the dishwasher, and prepared to finally do my laundry.
Some context: I'd noticed my bedroom had been... well... a little smelly for the past couple of days. My first thought was the cats had left me a present, as they sometimes do in protest at the state of their litter box. I rooted around a little bit, but nothing was out in the open and I didn't have time to search too hard - haven't been home much this week due to work. Still no sign of why it smelled... hmm... maybe it's the laundry?
So last night, I sniffed the basket.
OK, it's the laundry. Not good.
I figured I must have put a wet washcloth in there or something and it had migrated towards the bottom and started to get a little ripe. Obviously a sign that I need to get moving and get this washing clothes thing taken care of.
So I got home from the grocery store, sorted my piles, and brought them down to the laundry room.
I washed. Hmm... do I still smell something, or am I imagining things?
I dried. I opened the dryer. I smelled...
OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!
THERE'S A DEAD MOUSE! IN THE DRYER! IN MY LAUNDRY! A MOUSE! DEAD! LAUNDRY! DEAD! MOUSE!
OH MY GOD!
So I went back to my apartment, saying "Oh my God!" the entire way down the hall, in an attempt to find something to pick the mouse up with. The clean mouse, being I'd washed and dried it. Good Lord. I got paper towels first but couldn't figure out how to get the thing in the paper towel without touching it, so I Oh My Godded my way back to my apartment again to root around for another solution. My eyes lit upon my junk mail. I grabbed that and between the paper toweling and the ads I was able to pick the thing up quick and chuck it straight in the laundry room communal garbage can. I should have disposed of it outside, I suppose, but screw that.
So now, imagine this, I'm doing laundry again. Two more washes, each. Ick.
How the thing got in here I don't know. Dad thought it perhaps snuck in through the air conditioner. Entirely possible. But why? It's not cold outside yet, and this house presumably contains enough Eau de Cat to keep out any rodent with half a brain.
I have gotten over the slight low grade panic, but I am still definetly grossed out. It was dead in my clothes...
And I obviously live with two worthless freeloaders. What the hell?
Oh MY God.
Oh my GOD.
OH. MY. GOD!!!
OK, so I have a really good story.
I got home from work after another long day determined to get some tasks done around here that have been much put off. I got to the grocery store, put dishes in the dishwasher, and prepared to finally do my laundry.
Some context: I'd noticed my bedroom had been... well... a little smelly for the past couple of days. My first thought was the cats had left me a present, as they sometimes do in protest at the state of their litter box. I rooted around a little bit, but nothing was out in the open and I didn't have time to search too hard - haven't been home much this week due to work. Still no sign of why it smelled... hmm... maybe it's the laundry?
So last night, I sniffed the basket.
OK, it's the laundry. Not good.
I figured I must have put a wet washcloth in there or something and it had migrated towards the bottom and started to get a little ripe. Obviously a sign that I need to get moving and get this washing clothes thing taken care of.
So I got home from the grocery store, sorted my piles, and brought them down to the laundry room.
I washed. Hmm... do I still smell something, or am I imagining things?
I dried. I opened the dryer. I smelled...
OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!
THERE'S A DEAD MOUSE! IN THE DRYER! IN MY LAUNDRY! A MOUSE! DEAD! LAUNDRY! DEAD! MOUSE!
OH MY GOD!
So I went back to my apartment, saying "Oh my God!" the entire way down the hall, in an attempt to find something to pick the mouse up with. The clean mouse, being I'd washed and dried it. Good Lord. I got paper towels first but couldn't figure out how to get the thing in the paper towel without touching it, so I Oh My Godded my way back to my apartment again to root around for another solution. My eyes lit upon my junk mail. I grabbed that and between the paper toweling and the ads I was able to pick the thing up quick and chuck it straight in the laundry room communal garbage can. I should have disposed of it outside, I suppose, but screw that.
So now, imagine this, I'm doing laundry again. Two more washes, each. Ick.
How the thing got in here I don't know. Dad thought it perhaps snuck in through the air conditioner. Entirely possible. But why? It's not cold outside yet, and this house presumably contains enough Eau de Cat to keep out any rodent with half a brain.
I have gotten over the slight low grade panic, but I am still definetly grossed out. It was dead in my clothes...
And I obviously live with two worthless freeloaders. What the hell?
Sunday, September 02, 2007
My entire body hurts.
Dancing like a maniac for 3 1/2 hours followed by sitting in a car much of the next day will do that to you.
Why, oh why do I insist on doing the Pony so vertically? Why do I have to hop on the Electric Slide turn? Why didn't I take off my 3" heels before the returned soldier dragged me out on the floor? Why did I wear those heels in the first place?
I have blisters on my toes, my calves have seized up, my back cracks every time I move. This had better be over by tomorrow morning.
I have to say, though. I've been to loads of weddings. Likely in the hundreds, somewhere. And this has to be about the best one I've ever been at. Well, it may be #2, as seeing a bride breathing fire in her wedding dress is probably never going to be beaten.
It was just perfect. Casual, on the lake at sunset, and them.
So many people seem to have this image in their head of what The Ideal Wedding must be. White dress, matching bridesmaids, fancy flowers, white tablecloths. Tuxes and suits, satin and heels dyed to match. The ever-present Canon. Oh, how I hate that thing.
The only person in anything remotely like a tux was the groom, who left off the suit coat portion. The 7 month old son of the couple dropped the ring box in the grass. The bride giggled when she read her vows, stumbling a bit over the words she wrote. The groom sang his vows, to a tune he wrote and with the accompaniment of his guitar that his buddy forgot to tune before the ceremony. We stood out in the grass and watched them gaze into each other's eyes. At least one onlooker was holding a beer.
We all cried.
It's a second wedding for them both. None too elaborate, none too fancy, none too ornate. They both had been there, done that. Realized they'd made a mistake. Now that they'd finally found who they were meant to be with, this time was for them, to fit who they really were and not who they presumed they should be.
Perfect.
Dancing like a maniac for 3 1/2 hours followed by sitting in a car much of the next day will do that to you.
Why, oh why do I insist on doing the Pony so vertically? Why do I have to hop on the Electric Slide turn? Why didn't I take off my 3" heels before the returned soldier dragged me out on the floor? Why did I wear those heels in the first place?
I have blisters on my toes, my calves have seized up, my back cracks every time I move. This had better be over by tomorrow morning.
I have to say, though. I've been to loads of weddings. Likely in the hundreds, somewhere. And this has to be about the best one I've ever been at. Well, it may be #2, as seeing a bride breathing fire in her wedding dress is probably never going to be beaten.
It was just perfect. Casual, on the lake at sunset, and them.
So many people seem to have this image in their head of what The Ideal Wedding must be. White dress, matching bridesmaids, fancy flowers, white tablecloths. Tuxes and suits, satin and heels dyed to match. The ever-present Canon. Oh, how I hate that thing.
The only person in anything remotely like a tux was the groom, who left off the suit coat portion. The 7 month old son of the couple dropped the ring box in the grass. The bride giggled when she read her vows, stumbling a bit over the words she wrote. The groom sang his vows, to a tune he wrote and with the accompaniment of his guitar that his buddy forgot to tune before the ceremony. We stood out in the grass and watched them gaze into each other's eyes. At least one onlooker was holding a beer.
We all cried.
It's a second wedding for them both. None too elaborate, none too fancy, none too ornate. They both had been there, done that. Realized they'd made a mistake. Now that they'd finally found who they were meant to be with, this time was for them, to fit who they really were and not who they presumed they should be.
Perfect.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Tomorrow should prove to be an interesting day. I'm headed 'cross the border again to That Town. Friend getting married. Staying in a hotel for jah's sake, a cheezy Super 8, in the town I lived in for ten years of my life.
It's like I'm on Life Part IV:
I) Childhood
II) College
III) First job
IV) Second job, i.e. now
So weird. Parts 2 and 4 intersected at the end of July; parts 3 and 4 will intersect this weekend.
Parts 1 and 4 collide all the time. It's like I'm four different people, but I'm not.
So weird.
Wedding should be a good time, though. It's a couple of former co-workers and they're both really great people. They're getting hitched on the beach at sunset, and I'm sure it's going to be just beautiful. It's likely to be a hell of a party. They know fun people, and I've more than once closed a place down while in their company. I'm also hoping to see loads of former co-workers. I miss that place sometimes. The feeling of family. I've yet to find that here, with work, at least. But I can consider my two closest co-workers friends, I think, and that's a good start.
It's like I'm on Life Part IV:
I) Childhood
II) College
III) First job
IV) Second job, i.e. now
So weird. Parts 2 and 4 intersected at the end of July; parts 3 and 4 will intersect this weekend.
Parts 1 and 4 collide all the time. It's like I'm four different people, but I'm not.
So weird.
Wedding should be a good time, though. It's a couple of former co-workers and they're both really great people. They're getting hitched on the beach at sunset, and I'm sure it's going to be just beautiful. It's likely to be a hell of a party. They know fun people, and I've more than once closed a place down while in their company. I'm also hoping to see loads of former co-workers. I miss that place sometimes. The feeling of family. I've yet to find that here, with work, at least. But I can consider my two closest co-workers friends, I think, and that's a good start.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Just been idly dinging around today. Heading 'cross state lines tomorrow to visit B and go to Much Ado About Nothing at an outdoor theatre near there. We go every year to see some play or the other, generally Shakespeare, generally a comedy. Will be good to see B. Haven't seen her son or hubby in a while, so that will be fun too. They have a blog so I do get to see pictures, which is cool. Whatever did parents do before the Internet?
It occurred to me that this will be my first time in that state since moving back. It's been a year since I've been there. That's the longest stretch of time in about 15 years.
I'm not quite sure how to take that.
I mean, when I lived there, part of me always felt like an outsider, not native, like I didn't belong. Like I wanted to move back here. And now the shoe's on the other foot. I'm finding myself missing things more than I thought I would. It's just a little weird. How am I going to feel, crossing the bridge over the river that forms the border between the two states? I always used to feel just a little down, leaving here to go back there. Reading that "Thanks for visiting!" sign just before I crossed the border, leaving my former home to go back to my new home... And now... will I feel a little down, going the other direction?
I still flip the wrong switch half the time when I go into the kitchen. In my old apartment, the kitchen light switch was on the far side of the door. Here, it's on the near. I dig in the wrong drawer, looking for stuff. I sometimes get a little disoriented, waking up from sleep. I forget that there's no longer a Walgreen's within walking distance and I can no longer get the beer I like. The politics are a bit different. The feel is a bit different. Yet the same, all at the same time.
Half of me wonders if I'm going to feel like this for another 15 years. Neither fish, nor fowl. I guess my life has just felt... temporary, somehow. Incomplete. For a long time.
I'm not quite sure what that means.
It occurred to me that this will be my first time in that state since moving back. It's been a year since I've been there. That's the longest stretch of time in about 15 years.
I'm not quite sure how to take that.
I mean, when I lived there, part of me always felt like an outsider, not native, like I didn't belong. Like I wanted to move back here. And now the shoe's on the other foot. I'm finding myself missing things more than I thought I would. It's just a little weird. How am I going to feel, crossing the bridge over the river that forms the border between the two states? I always used to feel just a little down, leaving here to go back there. Reading that "Thanks for visiting!" sign just before I crossed the border, leaving my former home to go back to my new home... And now... will I feel a little down, going the other direction?
I still flip the wrong switch half the time when I go into the kitchen. In my old apartment, the kitchen light switch was on the far side of the door. Here, it's on the near. I dig in the wrong drawer, looking for stuff. I sometimes get a little disoriented, waking up from sleep. I forget that there's no longer a Walgreen's within walking distance and I can no longer get the beer I like. The politics are a bit different. The feel is a bit different. Yet the same, all at the same time.
Half of me wonders if I'm going to feel like this for another 15 years. Neither fish, nor fowl. I guess my life has just felt... temporary, somehow. Incomplete. For a long time.
I'm not quite sure what that means.
Friday, July 20, 2007
More adventures today.
I attempted yet more canning - pickles, this time. We'll see how that comes out. One of the issues with all of this is that whenever I can I end up with water all over creation as the stuff boils and oozes out the top. Today was a treat as I was attempting to mop up and get ready to go at the same time - I was due at K's at 2 for another boating outing. Yay!
There were 5 of us this time, out in the boat, on the lake. An interesting glimpse of how rich people live. Some of the houses on the lake are past immense. Lots of huge, gorgeous boats as well, many multi-deck, some looking like they belonged on one of the Great Lakes instead of where we were. We also saw a lot of exceedingly cool wooden boats. Really beautiful, stunning workmanship and care. Just amazing stuff. We stopped at a waterside establishment for some food and drink and just watched them all go by, wooden and historic, modern and speedy, ginormous and loud. As we were gawking at a particularly nice wooden craft, the ultimate coolest boat I have ever seen in my life caught our attention - a steam powered wooden boat, just like the African Queen. Wow. Just... wow. The guy was burning wood, I think, judging from the smell, and the boat chugged alongside where we were sitting, smoke coming out of the stack, as he maneuvered it into one of the few remaining slips. Really quite cool.
Saw more loons as well, some ducks, some lily pads (no frogs). It was a touch under 80 degrees, a few wisps of cirrus clouds, a slight breeze. Perfect day.
So now I idly blog, waste time, wait to leave to pick up DH, then read 'till I'm done, nap, then to P's 60th birthday party - a surprise. Going to be a good time.
I attempted yet more canning - pickles, this time. We'll see how that comes out. One of the issues with all of this is that whenever I can I end up with water all over creation as the stuff boils and oozes out the top. Today was a treat as I was attempting to mop up and get ready to go at the same time - I was due at K's at 2 for another boating outing. Yay!
There were 5 of us this time, out in the boat, on the lake. An interesting glimpse of how rich people live. Some of the houses on the lake are past immense. Lots of huge, gorgeous boats as well, many multi-deck, some looking like they belonged on one of the Great Lakes instead of where we were. We also saw a lot of exceedingly cool wooden boats. Really beautiful, stunning workmanship and care. Just amazing stuff. We stopped at a waterside establishment for some food and drink and just watched them all go by, wooden and historic, modern and speedy, ginormous and loud. As we were gawking at a particularly nice wooden craft, the ultimate coolest boat I have ever seen in my life caught our attention - a steam powered wooden boat, just like the African Queen. Wow. Just... wow. The guy was burning wood, I think, judging from the smell, and the boat chugged alongside where we were sitting, smoke coming out of the stack, as he maneuvered it into one of the few remaining slips. Really quite cool.
Saw more loons as well, some ducks, some lily pads (no frogs). It was a touch under 80 degrees, a few wisps of cirrus clouds, a slight breeze. Perfect day.
So now I idly blog, waste time, wait to leave to pick up DH, then read 'till I'm done, nap, then to P's 60th birthday party - a surprise. Going to be a good time.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
So this morning about 10 am I got a call from Dad. He was heading out to work and was ready for me to start trucking out there myself - I was scheduled to be an unpaid consultant, i.e. slave labor, for his business. Lots of heavy boxes to deliver around town today.
I started getting myself together, finding my shoes, bringing along stuff to do if there was any downtime, when I heard the first siren.
Then I heard another one. And another. And they were all coming this way. The sirens kept coming and coming and coming, almost constantly.
What on Earth?
The first thing I thought is, oh no, another bank robbery and hostage situation. What that says about both me and this neighborhood, I don't care to think.
I didn't figure I'd better leave the house until I figured out what I was driving into. So, I hopped online. Yet one more reason to love the Internet - within about 10 minutes, one of the local news stations had posted it.
The apartment complex next door was on fire.
Now, "next door" is a tad bit of an exaggeration as there's a street and a couple businesses between us and them. They're close enough, however, that the Red Cross Disaster Relief team is using our parking lot and clubhouse as a staging area. One of the caretakers here told me that it was a 6 alarm fire. About 200 people were evacuated, plus loads of dogs and cats, many of which the firefighters were able to save. No people were hurt.
Yet again, one is reminded how wonderful firefighters truly are, and how precarious life really is.
Edit: As of the 10 p.m. news, all the pets and all the people were saved.
Hug a firefighter. And your pets.
I started getting myself together, finding my shoes, bringing along stuff to do if there was any downtime, when I heard the first siren.
Then I heard another one. And another. And they were all coming this way. The sirens kept coming and coming and coming, almost constantly.
What on Earth?
The first thing I thought is, oh no, another bank robbery and hostage situation. What that says about both me and this neighborhood, I don't care to think.
I didn't figure I'd better leave the house until I figured out what I was driving into. So, I hopped online. Yet one more reason to love the Internet - within about 10 minutes, one of the local news stations had posted it.
The apartment complex next door was on fire.
Now, "next door" is a tad bit of an exaggeration as there's a street and a couple businesses between us and them. They're close enough, however, that the Red Cross Disaster Relief team is using our parking lot and clubhouse as a staging area. One of the caretakers here told me that it was a 6 alarm fire. About 200 people were evacuated, plus loads of dogs and cats, many of which the firefighters were able to save. No people were hurt.
Yet again, one is reminded how wonderful firefighters truly are, and how precarious life really is.
Edit: As of the 10 p.m. news, all the pets and all the people were saved.
Hug a firefighter. And your pets.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
I have just had more adventure than I really needed to have today. I have a whole new respect for our foremothers, as well as for anyone who actually does real work for a living.
I'm sitting here, alternately typing and nursing my wounds, after a morning spent canning. Yes, canning for real. Remember them 8 pints of strawberries? There's only so many one person can eat and so much freezer jam one can make. So I decided to *shudder* try canning.
What the heck was I thinking?
Thanks to TAG, I have equipment on loan. I'm starting to wonder how grateful I should be, but never mind that now. Anyway, she dropped off the canner with a whole ginormous Rubbermaid container full of stuff, plus some recipe books, and she talked me through the process. We agreed that it sure seems as if the process is pretty idiot-proof, as long as you follow the directions.
I'm thinking right about now that I'm a pretty big idiot.
So I read the book carefully, got out all the stuff, carefully set it out, washed what needed to be washed, got all four burners on the stove going, thinking I was pretty cool.
Well, pretty hot, actually, as I had all four burners going and it's July, but you know what I mean.
See, you have to have the canner simmering, ready for the jars, the jars simmering, ready for the jam, the jam cooking up, and extra boiling water ready to keep the jars properly submersed in the canner. I even had my candy thermometer out, checking the temp of the water. Nice. I was stirring the jam, waiting for it to boil, all proud of myself...
...when I discovered on a re-read that I hadn't followed the directions carefully after all. Boil strawberries and pectin first, then add sugar, dummy.
Oh dear.
The stuff, of course, didn't gel after the one minute rolling boil like it was supposed to. So I cooked it... and cooked it.. and cooked it, stirring like a maniac and praying it would hurry up and come together before it burnt. Problem is, as I have learned while making both caramels and peanut brittle, sugary mixes tend to pop when boiled. I ended up with a strawberry mess all over the place, including the stove, the floor, and various bit of my body.
I'm holding an ice cube wrapped in dripping paper towel on my right wrist on the worst of the burns. I don't think any got on the cats but I'm not sure - they wisely deserted the field after the stuff started bubbling over onto the floor. Nobody's meowing in agony and I see no suspicious licking of sticky body parts.Anyway, it hit my feet, stomach, both hands, and forehead. I'm going to look really cute at my cousins' tonight. I think the one on my wrist might be really not-so-good - when I remove the ice cube to wring out the paper towel, I see a little raised bump... *sigh*
The stuff did eventually gel, albeit about one cup less in volume than it should have. I'm a little afraid. I think the canning process itself worked out alright, but Lord only knows how that stuff will taste. I can find out in 12-24 hours.
Meanwhile, I may stay away from farmers' markets for a while...nothing but trouble.
Oh yeah - my cousins. I think I mentioned this yesterday but can't remember for sure, given today's events - the fog of war will do that to you - the folks and I are heading over to a cousin's house tonight for yacking and fireworks. They have a park a couple blocks away that we go to and watch the city shoot off bombs. Fun. This, of course, means I have more cooking yet to do - I want to bring something over to their house to share. This means I need to get off the butt, into the shower, and over to the grocery store.
Notice how motivated I am.
I am starting to get a bit hungry, though, so think I'll have lunch and get things started. Was really going to do laundry at some point as well... Ah well.
Happy 4th!
I'm sitting here, alternately typing and nursing my wounds, after a morning spent canning. Yes, canning for real. Remember them 8 pints of strawberries? There's only so many one person can eat and so much freezer jam one can make. So I decided to *shudder* try canning.
What the heck was I thinking?
Thanks to TAG, I have equipment on loan. I'm starting to wonder how grateful I should be, but never mind that now. Anyway, she dropped off the canner with a whole ginormous Rubbermaid container full of stuff, plus some recipe books, and she talked me through the process. We agreed that it sure seems as if the process is pretty idiot-proof, as long as you follow the directions.
I'm thinking right about now that I'm a pretty big idiot.
So I read the book carefully, got out all the stuff, carefully set it out, washed what needed to be washed, got all four burners on the stove going, thinking I was pretty cool.
Well, pretty hot, actually, as I had all four burners going and it's July, but you know what I mean.
See, you have to have the canner simmering, ready for the jars, the jars simmering, ready for the jam, the jam cooking up, and extra boiling water ready to keep the jars properly submersed in the canner. I even had my candy thermometer out, checking the temp of the water. Nice. I was stirring the jam, waiting for it to boil, all proud of myself...
...when I discovered on a re-read that I hadn't followed the directions carefully after all. Boil strawberries and pectin first, then add sugar, dummy.
Oh dear.
The stuff, of course, didn't gel after the one minute rolling boil like it was supposed to. So I cooked it... and cooked it.. and cooked it, stirring like a maniac and praying it would hurry up and come together before it burnt. Problem is, as I have learned while making both caramels and peanut brittle, sugary mixes tend to pop when boiled. I ended up with a strawberry mess all over the place, including the stove, the floor, and various bit of my body.
I'm holding an ice cube wrapped in dripping paper towel on my right wrist on the worst of the burns. I don't think any got on the cats but I'm not sure - they wisely deserted the field after the stuff started bubbling over onto the floor. Nobody's meowing in agony and I see no suspicious licking of sticky body parts.Anyway, it hit my feet, stomach, both hands, and forehead. I'm going to look really cute at my cousins' tonight. I think the one on my wrist might be really not-so-good - when I remove the ice cube to wring out the paper towel, I see a little raised bump... *sigh*
The stuff did eventually gel, albeit about one cup less in volume than it should have. I'm a little afraid. I think the canning process itself worked out alright, but Lord only knows how that stuff will taste. I can find out in 12-24 hours.
Meanwhile, I may stay away from farmers' markets for a while...nothing but trouble.
Oh yeah - my cousins. I think I mentioned this yesterday but can't remember for sure, given today's events - the fog of war will do that to you - the folks and I are heading over to a cousin's house tonight for yacking and fireworks. They have a park a couple blocks away that we go to and watch the city shoot off bombs. Fun. This, of course, means I have more cooking yet to do - I want to bring something over to their house to share. This means I need to get off the butt, into the shower, and over to the grocery store.
Notice how motivated I am.
I am starting to get a bit hungry, though, so think I'll have lunch and get things started. Was really going to do laundry at some point as well... Ah well.
Happy 4th!
Sunday, June 10, 2007
You know, for as boring as I am, I sure have managed to have adventures lately.
Saturday, M and I decided to celebrate the summer and go out and about. We headed first to Downtown to the big outdoor jazz festival. Oh, the people watching! Nobody does outdoor festivals quite like Midwestern towns in the summer - we have such a short time with good weather we have to make of it what we can. The place was packed solid. Kids and dogs and grown-ups with beer and barbecued ribs. Not too many strollers in the large crowd, which I appreciated, but I did see a very large woman with huge tattoos on her bicep flab with a beer in one hand and a stroller in the other, which held a chihuahua in a baseball T-shirt, slightly too large for him. Then there was the guy with long grey hair in a ponytail, missing front teeth, and a short black skirt. Interesting. Not to put too fine a point on it, but for a jazz festival there sure were a lot of white people. Sad and hopeful all at the same time - great that the music is accepted for the amazing stuff that it is, sad that so many kids in the culture it came from don't know it or appreciate it.
So we were sitting there with our hot dogs and roasted corn when M recognized the guy with a crisp white dress shirt and jeans that cost more than my violin bow headed our way. A reporter from the TV station across the street, trolling for quotes. Amazingly enough, he stopped by us and asked us if he could tape us for the late news. M thought I was nuts, but I said yes. He asked us what we thought of the whole thing, and we said something or other about how we were down there for the fun music and the kickoff to summer. Even more amazingly, we didn't end up on the cutting room floor. I'm kind-of impressed my hair looked as OK as it did, the humidity being what it was. Ten seconds worth of our 15 minutes of fame, checked off the list.
We got ice cream soon after that and headed back up the street to the car and the trip a mile or so across the river to our next adventure of the night. Turns out I knew two guys in two bands that were playing gigs about 4 blocks from each other. We thought, what the heck? We didn't have to be at work the next day. We'll go.
The first was for my cousin's band - a little pop, a little rock, a little punk, and lots of fun. The bar was a real trip. Never been there before and so wasn't prepared. This was a real workingman's establishment. First clue? The old guy with no teeth and scraggly, thinning hair who took our cover charge money. Second? 70's supper club decor that likely hadn't been dusted since it was put in. I was a little afraid to sit in the chairs. Third? Pabst Blue Ribbon on tap. That said, I liked the place. The bartender was friendly and knowledgeable, the prices were reasonable, and even though we were obviously Not From Around There, everyone was very nice.
C's band was the second of three, so we sat down to listen to the first and wait. The first band was... earnest... *sigh* The instrumentals were OK but the lead singer wasn't quite in the center of the pitch. OK, he was nowhere near the center of the pitch. The intonation was killing me. But his heart was in it, and that's more than a lot of people can say.
As we sat there waiting, the place got more crowded and the table next to us was taken by three guys. They asked if we could have our spare chair and we of course acquiesced, not realizing that one of them would take that as a sign that we actually wanted to talk to him. So we did the standard light bar chatter, what's your name, what do you do, etc. He informed us that he moved mountains for a living, quite a trick in country scraped flat by the glaciers long ago. Turns out he drives a Bobcat. This is my prejudicial snottiness coming through, I know, but really.
Anyway, not being either stupid or naive, M and I are being friendly but not encouraging, but he's apparently too dumb to know the difference. Mr. Suave starts out by asking us if he can hang out with us the rest of the night as he's not getting along too well with his pals at the next table. Again, as we are neither stupid nor naive, we don't bother beating around the bush and just give him a flat-out no. One would think this would be a clue. But not for Mr. Suave. He continues, asking if he can go home with one of us. What, are you nuts? We just told you that you can't hang around with us for the rest of the night and you think that somehow this means one of us might allow you to come home with us instead? For dumb. We tell him no again. Then things really get entertaining. I'm trying hard not to bust out laughing as it is and then he decides to lay it all out there on the line: he asks us for a threesome.
I mean, really. How dumb can you be?
How I managed not to laugh in his face while telling him no for a third time I really do not know. M tried to let him down a tiny bit gently telling him he can always hope - with someone else - but I'm meaner than she is, generally speaking, and just tell him that no, he probably shouldn't even hope for that.
Then, a miracle occurs. A man from across the room gets up and comes to sit at our table.
In a town of this size, you wouldn't think this would happen, but in the It's A Small World After All category, turns out a colleague of mine is buddies with one of the guys in C's band. He saw me from across the room, came over to say hello, and unintentionally chased Mr. Suave off to another table to hit on another group of women. I have never been so happy to see E before in my life. We told him what had happened, and he didn't believe us. Who would? But I owe him big.
The next time we go out, we really have to remember to prepare fake names and cover stories.
Anyway, C's band started warming up so when Mr. Suave was distracted we headed to the other part of the bar to see them. Loud! Even with my earplugs in I had to cover my ears at times. But they were full of energy and fun. I really enjoyed it.
Being the whole thing was on Bar Time they started playing a good hour after I figured they would so we were late getting to Establishment #3 - an Irish bar just down the block. Yet another colleague of mine plays in an Irish band and I was hoping to get to see them as well. M seemed both surprised and pleased to see us. I guess another colleague of ours had shown up earlier in the night but no one since then. I'm glad we went. They were fun, although not as traditional as I thought they'd be, and they played a couple more songs before hanging it up for the night. The power of music being what it is, the place was empty when we got there - the band was taking a break - and as they played people out on the street heard them and the place was full by the time they were done.
So the upshot of it all is we went to one music festival and two bars, saw two bands, got hit on by an idiot, and didn't end up getting home until 2 a.m. I am prouder of us than I can say.
At this rate, who knows what the summer will bring?
Saturday, M and I decided to celebrate the summer and go out and about. We headed first to Downtown to the big outdoor jazz festival. Oh, the people watching! Nobody does outdoor festivals quite like Midwestern towns in the summer - we have such a short time with good weather we have to make of it what we can. The place was packed solid. Kids and dogs and grown-ups with beer and barbecued ribs. Not too many strollers in the large crowd, which I appreciated, but I did see a very large woman with huge tattoos on her bicep flab with a beer in one hand and a stroller in the other, which held a chihuahua in a baseball T-shirt, slightly too large for him. Then there was the guy with long grey hair in a ponytail, missing front teeth, and a short black skirt. Interesting. Not to put too fine a point on it, but for a jazz festival there sure were a lot of white people. Sad and hopeful all at the same time - great that the music is accepted for the amazing stuff that it is, sad that so many kids in the culture it came from don't know it or appreciate it.
So we were sitting there with our hot dogs and roasted corn when M recognized the guy with a crisp white dress shirt and jeans that cost more than my violin bow headed our way. A reporter from the TV station across the street, trolling for quotes. Amazingly enough, he stopped by us and asked us if he could tape us for the late news. M thought I was nuts, but I said yes. He asked us what we thought of the whole thing, and we said something or other about how we were down there for the fun music and the kickoff to summer. Even more amazingly, we didn't end up on the cutting room floor. I'm kind-of impressed my hair looked as OK as it did, the humidity being what it was. Ten seconds worth of our 15 minutes of fame, checked off the list.
We got ice cream soon after that and headed back up the street to the car and the trip a mile or so across the river to our next adventure of the night. Turns out I knew two guys in two bands that were playing gigs about 4 blocks from each other. We thought, what the heck? We didn't have to be at work the next day. We'll go.
The first was for my cousin's band - a little pop, a little rock, a little punk, and lots of fun. The bar was a real trip. Never been there before and so wasn't prepared. This was a real workingman's establishment. First clue? The old guy with no teeth and scraggly, thinning hair who took our cover charge money. Second? 70's supper club decor that likely hadn't been dusted since it was put in. I was a little afraid to sit in the chairs. Third? Pabst Blue Ribbon on tap. That said, I liked the place. The bartender was friendly and knowledgeable, the prices were reasonable, and even though we were obviously Not From Around There, everyone was very nice.
C's band was the second of three, so we sat down to listen to the first and wait. The first band was... earnest... *sigh* The instrumentals were OK but the lead singer wasn't quite in the center of the pitch. OK, he was nowhere near the center of the pitch. The intonation was killing me. But his heart was in it, and that's more than a lot of people can say.
As we sat there waiting, the place got more crowded and the table next to us was taken by three guys. They asked if we could have our spare chair and we of course acquiesced, not realizing that one of them would take that as a sign that we actually wanted to talk to him. So we did the standard light bar chatter, what's your name, what do you do, etc. He informed us that he moved mountains for a living, quite a trick in country scraped flat by the glaciers long ago. Turns out he drives a Bobcat. This is my prejudicial snottiness coming through, I know, but really.
Anyway, not being either stupid or naive, M and I are being friendly but not encouraging, but he's apparently too dumb to know the difference. Mr. Suave starts out by asking us if he can hang out with us the rest of the night as he's not getting along too well with his pals at the next table. Again, as we are neither stupid nor naive, we don't bother beating around the bush and just give him a flat-out no. One would think this would be a clue. But not for Mr. Suave. He continues, asking if he can go home with one of us. What, are you nuts? We just told you that you can't hang around with us for the rest of the night and you think that somehow this means one of us might allow you to come home with us instead? For dumb. We tell him no again. Then things really get entertaining. I'm trying hard not to bust out laughing as it is and then he decides to lay it all out there on the line: he asks us for a threesome.
I mean, really. How dumb can you be?
How I managed not to laugh in his face while telling him no for a third time I really do not know. M tried to let him down a tiny bit gently telling him he can always hope - with someone else - but I'm meaner than she is, generally speaking, and just tell him that no, he probably shouldn't even hope for that.
Then, a miracle occurs. A man from across the room gets up and comes to sit at our table.
In a town of this size, you wouldn't think this would happen, but in the It's A Small World After All category, turns out a colleague of mine is buddies with one of the guys in C's band. He saw me from across the room, came over to say hello, and unintentionally chased Mr. Suave off to another table to hit on another group of women. I have never been so happy to see E before in my life. We told him what had happened, and he didn't believe us. Who would? But I owe him big.
The next time we go out, we really have to remember to prepare fake names and cover stories.
Anyway, C's band started warming up so when Mr. Suave was distracted we headed to the other part of the bar to see them. Loud! Even with my earplugs in I had to cover my ears at times. But they were full of energy and fun. I really enjoyed it.
Being the whole thing was on Bar Time they started playing a good hour after I figured they would so we were late getting to Establishment #3 - an Irish bar just down the block. Yet another colleague of mine plays in an Irish band and I was hoping to get to see them as well. M seemed both surprised and pleased to see us. I guess another colleague of ours had shown up earlier in the night but no one since then. I'm glad we went. They were fun, although not as traditional as I thought they'd be, and they played a couple more songs before hanging it up for the night. The power of music being what it is, the place was empty when we got there - the band was taking a break - and as they played people out on the street heard them and the place was full by the time they were done.
So the upshot of it all is we went to one music festival and two bars, saw two bands, got hit on by an idiot, and didn't end up getting home until 2 a.m. I am prouder of us than I can say.
At this rate, who knows what the summer will bring?
Friday, June 08, 2007
Today, I had an adventure.
Yet another one of my colleagues is retiring, and today was his last day. Besides his job with us, he is a licensed pilot and flight instructor. To celebrate the end of his career, he said he'd take up anyone who wanted to go. Of course, I was in. What fun!
We all met at the airport. Tiny little thing, full of recreational fliers, a helicopter pad, some other stuff that I have no idea about. In spite of growing up around here and driving by any number of times, it was my first time actually on the grounds of this airport. Our Cessna would hold 4 at a time (including the pilot), so we waited our turns in the sunshine and thought about how much better this was than work. All I needed was a hammock.
Then it was my turn. I got to sit in the co-pilot seat up front, so I got a headset. How interesting! I got to listen to the control tower talk to us and give instructions to all the other little airplanes up around us. How they keep everything straight is just amazing, and this is a small airport.
And what there was in front of me! Bells and whistles and dials and knobs and pedals and steering bars. I kept my hands in my lap and feet close to my seat - no need to risk bumping who knows what by accident and bringing down the plane and all of us with it. *grin* Again, how on earth do you keep all of that straight? How the jet pilots do it, especially the international ones, I will never know.
Soon, we were cleared for takeoff. We taxied around to the front of our runway and with a last stop to check to make sure everything was working, we took a run for it and flung ourselves into the air.
We first buzzed our workplace - how little, yet how sprawling all at the same time. We then followed the river to downtown. The railroad yard looked like it contained a Lionel set, while it was fun to see from above how the river snakes through the trees. Downtown looked pretty awesome from up there with the few buildings growing up from the rest, the stadium a clear reference point, albeit an ugly one. One of the most interesting things to me was seeing all the water towers in the communities surrounding us; from our viewpoint just so many blue obelisks rising from the forest floor. We traveled back, naming lakes, seeing the hospital campus, with a few last bumps in the turbulence over the trees at the edge of the airfield.
It's been a good day.
Tomorrow may be more adventures - there's a couple of local bands I want to go see, and a local Italian institution will be closing soon and I'd like to eat there once before they go. In any case, it's almost Saturday. Huzzah!
Yet another one of my colleagues is retiring, and today was his last day. Besides his job with us, he is a licensed pilot and flight instructor. To celebrate the end of his career, he said he'd take up anyone who wanted to go. Of course, I was in. What fun!
We all met at the airport. Tiny little thing, full of recreational fliers, a helicopter pad, some other stuff that I have no idea about. In spite of growing up around here and driving by any number of times, it was my first time actually on the grounds of this airport. Our Cessna would hold 4 at a time (including the pilot), so we waited our turns in the sunshine and thought about how much better this was than work. All I needed was a hammock.
Then it was my turn. I got to sit in the co-pilot seat up front, so I got a headset. How interesting! I got to listen to the control tower talk to us and give instructions to all the other little airplanes up around us. How they keep everything straight is just amazing, and this is a small airport.
And what there was in front of me! Bells and whistles and dials and knobs and pedals and steering bars. I kept my hands in my lap and feet close to my seat - no need to risk bumping who knows what by accident and bringing down the plane and all of us with it. *grin* Again, how on earth do you keep all of that straight? How the jet pilots do it, especially the international ones, I will never know.
Soon, we were cleared for takeoff. We taxied around to the front of our runway and with a last stop to check to make sure everything was working, we took a run for it and flung ourselves into the air.
We first buzzed our workplace - how little, yet how sprawling all at the same time. We then followed the river to downtown. The railroad yard looked like it contained a Lionel set, while it was fun to see from above how the river snakes through the trees. Downtown looked pretty awesome from up there with the few buildings growing up from the rest, the stadium a clear reference point, albeit an ugly one. One of the most interesting things to me was seeing all the water towers in the communities surrounding us; from our viewpoint just so many blue obelisks rising from the forest floor. We traveled back, naming lakes, seeing the hospital campus, with a few last bumps in the turbulence over the trees at the edge of the airfield.
It's been a good day.
Tomorrow may be more adventures - there's a couple of local bands I want to go see, and a local Italian institution will be closing soon and I'd like to eat there once before they go. In any case, it's almost Saturday. Huzzah!
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