Thursday, December 27, 2007

Save the Endangered Interrobang!

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This is an interrobang. I am absolutely floored to learn I have one, wish it was common, and want this character on my keyboard (along with a right-side tab key). It is exactly what it looks like.. a combination of an exclamation point (a "bang") and a question mark (interrogative point). How is this not widely used‽ <--- Arial Unicode MS on character map

Wiki has info here.

I wonder how I could ever write without such a cool punctuation mark. Come on, people, get this one back out there!

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Of Mouse and Me

The backs of my eyeballs hurt. I don't know why but they do, but it's a very odd feeling. It isn't the "behind-the-eyes-headache" kind of pain, or sinus pain (at least I hope not... ten days' worth of antibiotic pills the size of small submarines should have knocked out that pesky sinus infection, plus any of its relatives thinking of coming to visit). It just feels like any minute now an eyeball is going to make a run for it and pop out of my head. Interesting, but not desirably so.

Today was our holiday dinner at work. I didn't win either of the giveaway turkeys but I guessed the weight of each to within 3 ounces. Apparently I'm good at eyeballing plucked, frozen, large-breasted birds and determining their weight... maybe I should be running a Guess Your Weight booth for the Swedish Bikini Team winter carnival. Do they have one of those? I might be on to something.

I'm loving the heck out of my new iPen and tablet. Somebody please tell me why I didn't get one of these before. Oh yeah, I remember... I thought it was frivolous to spend money on unnecessary computer accessories when we had bills to pay. Good thing it was a gift! And a really cool one, at that. Also great timing... my HP mouse just croaked (squeaked?) and the cursor was zooming all over and opening stuff at random. I'd just switched to my backup trigger mouse before the old one decided to rewrite my registry or buy out eBay at 1 AM. Trigger mouse serves one vital function: it keeps anyone else from using my computer, because nobody knows how to use it. I can't use it myself for long due to a painful thumb joint caused, most likely, from using a trigger mouse.

Speaking of computer peripherals... I'm one of those who will use what came with the computer- keyboard, mouse, speakers- until it's absolutely necessary to replace them. My last keyboard saw me through two computers (it was a multimedia keyboard with all kinds of fancy buttons and functions, most of which didn't correspond to anything on the new comp, but it had volume control on it, and since I can't reach my speakers from here, I kept it just for that purpose) and when I finally replaced it, half the letters were worn off, the left shift key and the 1 didn't work, and the space bar only worked if you hit it in the right spot. This past summer I broke down and bought a new multimedia keyboard. May I just say... "quiet soft-touch keys," my fanny. It's just as loud as the last one. Why can't anyone make a keyboard that doesn't A. sound like a roomful of wind-up chattering teeth and B. require forcible keystrokes to register characters? Is it just me?

I have iTunes on party shuffle. Clay Aiken singing Solitaire just came on, causing me to wonder just what that malfunctioning mouse was doing while I was away. Clay Aiken?!? I just went from hearing Veruca Salt and STP... to American Idol. *no clue* Must investigate and see what else is on here I don't know about.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Lennon was Optimistic

I've been having One Of Those Days.
I decided to get my baking done, as much as possible. At the moment I'm taking five (or ten) to let my raisin filling (and myself) cool off a bit.

The first batch of peanut butter cookies overbaked, due to me getting distracted by my husband, who chose that time to explain to me how a lock tumbler from a vehicle (in this case, our Bronco) worked, or again in this case, wasn't working. I like stuff like that, and naturally had to examine the tumbler mechanism, in the process getting graphite all over my hands and letting the cookies burn. We're out of peanut butter so unless I make a third trip to the store today, I'm not making any more.

I pulled out the dough for the sand tarts. Too hard to roll, set aside to thaw a little. Made dough for raisin cookies, chilled, made raisin filling. Rolled out some raisin cookie dough, banged elbow on stand mixer. Didn't have a round cookie cutter, improvised with the top of a martini shaker. Filled one sheet of cookie bottoms, set aside. Told hubby there's not enough room to roll on the bake cupboard; he decides to remove everything from kitchen table for me. I help and knock his iced-tea glass over. He steps in the spilled tea while I'm searching for a dishcloth. I wipe up tea, he knocks over the entire pan of cookie bottoms. They go in the trash. Meanwhile he's lost his keys, which are attached to the lock tumbler; I find them on the dryer. He asks if I need any more help. I send him outside to put the Bronco door back together. Realize the sand tart dough is too dry and the raisin cookie dough is too soft. Back in fridge. See some spilled vanilla on the counter, start to clean it, discover it isn't vanilla. My beloved KitchenAid mixer is leaking oil. Finally able to make raisin filled cookies. Have much more filling than dough, thanks to earlier incident. Discover why nobody else likes making them, too time-consuming. Vow to purchase cookies from the Amish like everyone else.

Made bourbon balls with no problems, of course... I hate bourbon.

Update: raisin cookies are done, and delicious. I might tackle a batch of biscotti yet tonight. Hubby came in and told me I had flour handprints on my butt. He looked at the kitchen, decided not to ask what was for dinner, heated up leftovers and retreated to the other room. Now I have to clean up the aftermath, wash dishes, clothes, and myself, and limit biscotti-making to one surface if possible.

Nobody told me there'd be days like these... strange days, indeed.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Snow, snow, snow, sleet and snow

It's alternately sleeting and snowing again. We're on the line between weather patterns so we're getting a mix- a nasty, ugly mix- of winter precipitation. Housebound today, by choice. Might bake cookies. Might take a nap. Might finish reading my book, then take a nap. Nap sounds good.

I was up till almost daybreak, home while Hubby plowed the roads so that idiots with vain notions of invincibility in their overpriced, ego-stroking four-wheel-drive SUVs might actually continue harboring their delusions. I tend to enjoy seeing one of them fly past me, believing the speed limit +5 is a goal set in stone regardless of weather, then spot them farther down the road with wheels in a ditch, cursing into their cellphones because AAA won't be there for two hours. I only take pleasure in this if nobody's hurt, and I've been known to stop and check before laughing at them, so don't send me hate mail.

The other day I saw an SUV driver in a shopping center parking lot attempt to back around a corner into a freshly-vacated prime spot. She didn't see the stop sign- accelerated in reverse- just in time for her husband, exiting the store, to watch her back straight into it. I laughed. Being a female SUV driver probably had little to do with it, but the stereotype was there and it was funny.

Last night I went outside to see just how close I could slide to the corner store if I wore slick-soled boots and got a running start. No, it just felt that way. Stupid boots. Some guy was in his Bronco, snowplow on the front and ready to attack the residual elements, but he couldn't get it out of his lot. Tires just kept spinning the more he gunned it. I wondered if it was a bad sign that the plow guy couldn't get out, or, worse, if the plow guy was driving around with bald tires. He did, finally, get out after much slinging of ice and gravel. There really wasn't much on the ground but a thin sheet of ice so I have no idea what he thought he was going to plow. He didn't have an ice-melt spreader on the back either. Entirely useless battle between Goodyears and macadam, there. But at least he entertained me, however briefly.

DOT stealth mailbox plot revealed: It has come to my attention, from an unnamed source, that DOT plow drivers have modified their ritual downing of mailboxes to be less obvious. Instead of just burying a mailbox or knocking it over immediately to get it out of the way, as per the norm, drivers now work in teams. The first driver goes through, pushing the snow in front of the box, just enough to see the post wiggle. Joe Homeowner, watching from his living-room window, only sees that this obviously experienced driver did not blatantly mow down his mailbox, as in times past. Homeowner, pleased, retreats to his hot cider and newspaper. On each subsequent pass, the plow driver pushes the snow a little more; the post wiggles a little more. Homeowner goes to bed assured that he won't be buying yet another box, vowing to call and compliment DOT on their fine driver. Second shift comes in and plows the now-packed-and-stacked pile of snow into the base of the mailbox post, either sending it flying into the driveway or obliterating it under the chunks. Sometimes, for good measure, the driver will pile more snow on top so Homeowner won't know it's down until he comes out to dig the driveway out.

We don't have a home mailbox, but the post office driveway has been plowed in a few times. DOT hasn't figured out how to push snow directly into the lobby yet but I'm told they're working on it.

I should go bake cookies, make biscotti, eat something. Shovel today's snow off the walk. I really should. But my space heater is next to me, my feet are warm, and the nice glow from the monitor creates a comfortable ambiance. I'm in a good-vibe pod. Hate to break it up with reality, the reality that Christmas is NEXT FREAKING WEEK. Crap. I better get to baking! *pod=poof*

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Disclaimer

I'm going in for oral surgery in the morning. I take no responsibility for any posts between now and the time the painkillers run out. :-D

See you on the moon! Bring pudding. Thx

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Week of the Rat

Some random droppings:
  • We got a little snow last night, not enough to stop anyone from going about their business but enough that the plow trucks are running. Supposedly, sleet and rain are coming later. Joy.
  • Hubby got called in to plow last night. He's hoping they'll go to winter hours this week... he'll be off at noon and be able to hunt the rest of the afternoon. Freezer is looking empty.
  • This past week at work, I personally removed nine dead Norway rats from one section. Usually we get field mice and voles, and maybe one rat a year... but nine rats of various ages all decided to expire within 20 feet of each other. Very odd. Maybe they were playing Lemmings and got carried away. *shrug*
  • We're getting a Target! Well, not in our area, but close enough to drive to without making the long trek to the city. I <3 Target.
  • I've barely started on Christmas. Going to be low-key this year. Oral surgery was postponed until the 13th so I really should get moving... I may not be in the mood, physically or mentally, to even think about going out after that. Attention shoppers: Cranky woman on painkillers in Aisle 10! Avoid at all costs! :-D

happy holler daze, y'all.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

The mouths of babes...

Overheard in the living room:

"What's so bad about Philadelphia? Is that where all the rude people go that can't afford to live in New York?"

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Get Fresh

A friend accidentally coined a phrase tonight, and I told her I was going to use it. So... here it is... the term "Fresh out." Not meaning fresh outta money or what-have-you, but:

Fresh out: to step away from the computer or video game and go outside for a breather. Also, telling someone they need to back away from whatever they're doing and calm down before re-attempting it.

"My eyes hurt from playing Kitty Cannon for the past hour. I'm gonna fresh out for a minute."

"You're only going to break something if you don't stop beating on that bracket. Go fresh out and come back to it later."

Monday, November 05, 2007

E, no 'phile

I'm not a wine snob... er, oenophile... I've never liked wine, except maybe the kind that comes in four-packs, is carbonated, and is labeled Bartles & Jaymes or Seagrams, and even those I could take or leave. On the rare occasions I have a drink, I prefer it to include good vodka in the recipe. On special occasions I'll have a margarita but my tastes are pretty constant otherwise.

When I was a kid in California, my parents would occasionally go to wineries for tasting. Usually these places had special tastefully-decorated rooms, with nice bars and correct glassware for whatever wine they were pushing. The visit often included a tour of the winery. I think I went along to maybe two of these wineries, and I recall hating the smell and how it lingered in my nostrils for days afterward.

Early this year I thought it would be "fun" to see if my tastes had matured. I decided the hubby and I should check out some Pennsylvania winemakers' offerings. A glass of red wine a day is supposed to be good for you, right? This was triggered, by the way, when a customer of his gave him a bottle of local red wine in lieu of a tip. It was drinkable, therefore a step in the right direction. That began our assault on PA/NY wines. We've tried maybe half a dozen now, possibly eight, and I find I still don't care for the smell or taste of reds.

I bring all this up to segue into our trip a couple of weeks ago. We were off on a foliage drive (after the elk country one) and happened to pass a sign for the winery that made that first bottle he brought home. They were open for tasting so we decided to check it out.

The drive to said winery was down a long back road. The place itself was a farm, with barns and animals and pickups. The "tasting room" was a garden shed, updated with a small bar and various assorted mounted critters and/or skins, as well as an electronic keyboard. Apparently their band used to practice there until most of their equipment was stolen. This wasn't the kind of tasting room I was expecting, but hey, this ain't Napa, so we went in with three other couples and a dog. The owner was a goofy fellow about our age who told dirty jokes and appeared to have been doing much more than tasting that day. As for the wine... he had three available; red, blush, and white. We'd had the red and I enjoyed it more than most since it had a decidedly pomegranate aftertaste (I love pomegranate). We were served in child-sized paper Dixie cups complete with cartoon animals on them. The cups were refilled with each kind of wine, so by the time we were on the white I had no idea if it was good or if I was just tasting a blend of all three plus soaked paper. Mr. Host continued with the jokes, the dog continued looking bored, and the deceased bear continued being deceased, so we bought two bottles (red and white) and left. Thus endeth our foray into redneck winetasting.

The red will be someone's hostess gift or Christmas present. I just finished the white, after my sister, husband and I cracked it a couple nights ago. For cheap redneck hooch... er, inexpensive small-batch wine... it's pretty good. However I've decided I much prefer Clover Hill wines, also inexpensive but with more variety, and I've realized I wouldn't know the difference between a "good" cabernet and a bad one. Odds are I'd like the cheap one better.

Especially if there was a dead bear nearby.

Treknecks?


I saw this ad for the Country Music Awards... don't know if this is a new logo, or if I just never paid attention before... that is totally the Star Trek icon. The black hole effect behind it just emphasizes the fact.

*envisions Worf doing a duet with Alan Jackson... then William Shatner singing country- well, anything, for that matter... shudders*

Edit: Here's the Starfleet Academy logo, some various Star Trek communicator pins, and two "event shirts" being sold on the CMA website. That's pretty close to be coincidental, eh? I'm picturing tapping my communicator and getting a cheery "Howdy! Y'all needin' beamed up?"




Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Slices of life... mmm, tasty!

For those of you with Blogger accounts, you've probably seen Blogger Play. It's a new-ish addition that works similar to the older LiveJournal photo feed, where you see the most recently-uploaded images to public blogs. However, Blogger Play is a real-time slideshow, although you can adjust the speed, pause, and even click an image to take you to its relevant post. It's incredibly addictive.

I'd like to have this as a screensaver... just a constant stream of random images from people all over the world.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

It's a sign!

Saw two funny things yesterday...

In the classifieds of a local paper, I saw a help-wanted ad for TPS Systems. First thing that came to mind: I betcha *somebody* there really does have to write TPS reports... and I bet that somebody is sick of the jokes by now. I'm keeping my eye on the fire company reports.

Cardboard sign tacked to a telephone pole: "Medical/Dental Coverage, Pre-Exiting Conditions Accepted!" Heh heh... if I had a pre-exiting condition, I wouldn't be needing that insurance, I don't think. Maybe it means if you have a terminal illness and you know the great hereafter is imminent, they'll still kindly take your premium money?

Humor is off today. I'll try to find something better later...

Monday, October 15, 2007

Flaming Elk Drive


Yesterday we went to the Flaming Foliage Festival in Renovo, PA. Neither of us had ever been to the festival, and I had never seen Renovo or points west of it.

Renovo

The foliage was uncooperative; due to unseasonably hot weather up until last week, the color change was delayed a week or two, so the leaves were only 20-40% turned. Yesterday's weather was great though. It felt like a perfect fall day with a nice breeze skittering the dead leaves across the roads like orange spiders. The scenery, too, was breathtaking in places. We saw hang gliders taking off from Hyner View State Park.

When I read the route description online prior to our trip, one item caught my eye. Our route went through elk country. A "highlight of the drive," according to the description, was the possibility of hearing elk bugling during mating season, which happens to be now. A few times before, I'd mentioned to Hubby that it would be neat to go see the elk sometime. I found a viewing area listed, so I plotted it on our map, and off we went. I probably should have gone digging a bit deeper and found out more about elk-watching, but I was under the impression that there was a fenced field or something with a lookout point where tourists could watch the critters. Didn't sound like a destination, more of a pit stop along the way. Like the world's largest ball of twine. Boy was I wrong... on many counts...

Elk Viewing Area, Winslow Hill Road

First, let me say that our route initially consisted of a huge loop, going west through the PA Wilds Elk Scenic Drive, then north and back to the east across the northern tier. We stopped in Renovo and enjoyed the foliage festival for an hour, eating lunch there followed by maple cotton candy (sooo good!) before getting back on the road. Next stop was Benezette, in elk country. There's a loop of road on Winslow Hill with a few viewing areas. I was to discover that there are no fences, and the elk don't care if they're in a viewing area or not. On our way up to the first spot, through a community of cabins, we found a bunch of cars parked all over the road and people with cameras standing around oohing and ahhing. There were half a dozen elk cows moseying around in someone's front yard, grazing and napping and looking pretty boring, to be honest. But the amount of people there surprised me, even more so when we got to the actual viewing areas and found throngs of people who packed lunches, high-powered binoculars, and major camera setups. We spoke to a man from Corning NY and a couple from Ohio, who had been there on previous weekends and in prior years. This was not a side trip. They had driven hours *just* to (hopefully) see elk. Entire families planned their trips around this.

Elk cows and calves in a yard.
(Hubby took pics of the bull; I don't have those yet.)


The elk didn't show in any of the major viewing spots; however, farther down the road, a herd plunked down in a field near a parking area, while a smaller herd kept their distance farther off. The closest one had a huge bull with about 20 cows. He chased off a smaller bull just as we got there, then proceeded to lie down and watch over his harem while they napped and grazed. Again, except for the brief excitement with the younger bull and the fact that this massive animal was so close to us, the elk were fairly uninspiring to watch. They ate, slept, yawned... pretty much what I would be doing, if I weren't watching animals do the same thing... hey, wait a minute, something's not right here...

As we were leaving (much later than we planned, because we'd found some killer scenery, and of course we stopped with everyone else to watch elk) there was another posse of cars pulled over. This time we could barely see them up on the ridgeline, but we heard the bulls. We have heard the bugles of elk, y'all. And they sound like they need Ricola in a bad way.

Needless to say, we didn't make the northern tier, or we'd still be on the way home. We turned south, picked up 80 and rode that into Lock Haven... all uneventful except for the brief moment we were on the "highest elevation on I-80 east of the Mississippi, 2250 feet." (I want to see that view again in the daytime.) It was a long but fun trip. Elk-watching is addictive in a weird kind of way so if you go, plan extra time for that and for exploring the area. The foliage should be in full color by the end of the month. We might go back!

Monday, October 08, 2007

Bad seafood! Bad!

I've been eating seafood pretty much my entire life. I was born near the ocean, into a family that fishes, crabs, and shrimps recreationally. Aside from that, I just like seafood and shellfish, and even if it's of questionable origin and on a menu in a landlocked-state Mexican restaurant (or whatever) I'll eat it. My husband is even more daring than I... he'll eat raw oysters off a buffet, which I just don't trust. We both eat sushi though.

My observation: In all these years, neither of us have ever gotten sick from seafood. Well, there was one time when we thought we'd had some bad shrimp, but it turned out to be a stomach virus that was going around. So... no. Yet one of the most popular excuses for a performer cancelling or no-showing a performance is that he/she was ill from eating bad seafood.

Let's pretend, for a moment, that their excuses are true and meant as "I ate bad fish" and not "I drank too much last night and I'm rocking a wicked hangover and I do not EVEN want to be near five thousand screaming lunatics today so I'm going to have some painkillers and vodka and go lie down for a day or two." Assuming the former, where do these people eat? One would think that celebrities, with their incredible demands and backstage lists and all, would not settle for anything less than the *best* food out there. We're not talking about Bubba's House O' Fish Planks, okay? (Except maybe in Britney Spears' case...) If I can eat a crab-cake sandwich from a stand at the local fair with no ill effects, surely these fancypants rich people can have their gourmet salmon without incident.

The whole thing smells fishy to me. I'm going with the hangover theory.

Monday, October 01, 2007

Crap Update

Our Crap arrived a couple weeks ago. I forgot to post it for the one person who wanted to know what manner of Crap we received.

Our Crap:
  1. Really nice red and black backpack, easily worth the cost (non-crap)
  2. One pack of two Jurassic Park 3-D puzzle sculptures (crap)
  3. Two generic fabric-covered Lone Ranger-style masks, no elastic (crap)
  4. One paper gift bag with handles (useful crap)
  5. One "Super-Lite" mini keychain LED flashlight (non-crap, as I needed one)
For cost + shipping ($8 total) I believe we got decent Crap. The backpack alone was worth it.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

New Frivolous Item: Microwave Locks

Passive-aggressive microwave owners, take note... er, make notes...?

I read through several of the comments. Most people assumed that no situation was bad enough to warrant getting one's own personal office microwave. The OP was over-reacting and employees cleaning up after themselves was the obvious solution.

They've obviously never worked for my company.

We have four nuke boxes and a refrigerator in one breakroom, and several more distributed throughout the other three breakrooms and office area. But none of them are ever clean... well, hardly ever. The temps and seasonal employees have serious cleaning aversions, as well as personal accountability ignorance and trash-can avoidance issues. The management tried to solve these problems by assigning one of them to do the daily cleaning of common areas and restrooms, but to no avail. She quit within two weeks and I have to wonder why it took that long. Surprised she didn't quit the first time she had to take rotten chicken parts out of the previously-clean-and-unused drinking cups. Or scrape up the food trash from behind the soda machine, where a large rat had relocated it piece by piece.* I noticed that having "one of their own" do the housekeeping hadn't slowed down their tendency to trash the place anyway.

Because of the constant state of the microwave interiors, crudded up by the varied items cooked therein (including, but not limited to, all manner of exploding cheeses and tomato sauces, bread bags and other assorted non-microwaveable plastics, and the occasional insect) I can honestly see why someone would want their own unit. I try to avoid using them at all. My supervisor has his own microwave in our office and I'll use that one on occasion. A padlock hasn't been necessary thus far. I can see it coming to that, though, if anyone else ever discovers it's there.

*I personally have done both of these, when we were between housekeeping solutions. I didn't quit only because my fool self had volunteered to clean the breakroom sight-unseen, and because after cleaning the men's bathroom, not much else could assault my senses that day with any real effect.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

This Barn Isn't Big Enough For The Two Of Us

More peevish misspellings:

A manager at work apparently slept through part of English class. I know exactly when he dozed off, too... right in the middle of learning "cognizant." It's obvious, because he doesn't know that there is a third syllable in the word... he says "cogniz."
"Let's be cogniz of the fact..." And no, he isn't deliberately abbreviating it.

Browsing a message forum (always a hotbed of proper grammar and spelling, of course) I ran across another one that bothers me: "reigns." Not like the reigning queen of the trailer park, but used as reins: "He should hand the reigns over to..."
Now, in a tongue-in-cheek manner, it would be fine. In fact, the example I read today was intended as such. However, I see it misused so often that it warrants listing. If horses had reigns, who followed Mr. Ed to the throne?

The same people who use "reigns" seem to be notorious for "putting on the breaks." If I'm trying to stop in a hurry, and I get breaks, I'm in trouble... or maybe the deer I'm about to hit is the one in trouble... either way, it can't be a good thing. I try to avoid breaks as much as possible. By pulling back on the reigns, of course.

Friday, August 31, 2007

"People think of the inventor as a screwball, but no one ever asks the inventor what he thinks of other people."
Charles Kettering

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Bought What?

Today, my husband bought Crap. Deliberately. I was trying to buy Crap... in fact I've been trying to buy Crap, unsuccessfully, for a year. I had my order in first. My card processed, a dollar a Crap, for three Craps plus shipping. You can't buy more than three. In most cases, you can't buy just one either, as there are 50,000 others trying to buy Crap at the same time you are. It's a real crapshoot. Out of 50,000 (or more) wannabe Crap buyers, any number up to 4500 will get Crap, depending on the quantity each person ordered, so as few as 1500 could get Crap if everyone ordered three.

Husband and I were monitoring the Crap site, but we somehow were not paying attention when the actual Crap came up (as opposed to the other crappy items, most of which could conceivably be described as crap, lowercase descriptive). However, he must have seen it right as it appeared, because as soon as he yelled CRAP I was on it and actually got my order in and confirmed in less than 20 seconds. This is, of course, when the crappy Crap servers did their thing; that is, they crapped out. They always crap out during Crap sales. Once the site came back online, half an hour later, I found to my dismay that my confirmed Crap order had disappeared, possibly eaten by flying monkeys. This also happens regularly during Crap sales. This, though, was the first time in many attempts that I *had* a confirmed order... usually I get stuck in processing when the servers crap out and my order never goes through.

This is when my husband calls out, casually, that he's got an order in for three Craps. Somehow he managed to get to the order page, change the amount wanted to three, input his account number, and get it all through processing, payment, confirmation, and verification faster than I did, *and* before the servers crashed. Rather than ponder the absolute impossibility of this task, I chose to be thrilled that, finally, we are getting Crap!

I will post photos of the Craps when they get here. I don't know what they'll be yet- no one does- that's part of the Crap experience. Usually, it's crap. Sometimes it's cool crap, and sometimes (rarely) it's non-crap. Once it was a fifteen-pound anvil; once it was a washer-fluid heater; once it was a Nintendo Wii. Bottom line is: we actively sought out, fought for, and paid money for unknown, random Crap. I can't wait till it gets here! Craptastic!

Monday, August 27, 2007

Today In History

I share the birthday with Mother Teresa, PeeWee Herman and Downtown Julie Brown.

The day started off with a mysterious bag left on the kitchen table... I approached warily, as I do with anything pastel-colored. There were flowers on the bag as well, generally a sign to have weapons at the ready just in case it explodes into a big ball of feminine cutesiness. Pastel + flower motif = high danger level.

After poking and prodding at the bag, and thereby determining that it wasn't going to get any worse, I examined the contents. It seems the Husband, knowing my tendency to recoil at anything pink, had cleverly disguised a gift much to my liking inside the girly crap.

Chrome portholes for the car fenders! W00t! *happy dance* Three for each side, no less. I did mention that the car didn't have enough chrome... not that I was complaining about it, I'm just a chromaholic... and he knew I admire pretty much any car with porthole accents. Thoughtful guy, that one is!

My friends online left me some nice messages, and I'm holding out hope for a cake later this evening (or I'll be in town buying one myself... it's a Cake Day, dangit! I look forward to celebrations that call for cake.) I got a great surprise from another friend, who offered to get me tickets to a particular celebrity appearance and a meeting with said celebrity afterward (!!!), when she learned I'd be in town for the event.

I'm also officially old and fat, as determined by my efforts to purchase a pair of jeans yesterday. The stores were full of tweens and high-school girls whining about not being able to find their sizes ("but the threes are soooo baggy!") and giggling about the granny-panties on the hangers (for the record, they were bikini briefs, for crying out loud... one step away from thongs). There were no pants in the store to fit short women with apple butts and narrow waists. Yes, I know about the Apple Bottoms brand, I'm not THAT old, but I have never been able to make myself pay that kind of money for jeans. In fact, yesterday was the first time I bought new jeans in ages... usually the Salvation Army gets my business, and I don't have to break in new denim. Anyway, when I did find a pair that fit- not great, but they fit- I bought 'em and got the heck out of there, away from the shrill cellphone ringtones and like, Rodney is like, such a hottie, lawl and the microsizes and macroprices and thong underbritches and smells like teen spirit really means adolescent sweat and Clearasil and bubblegum.

Ellen Degeneres had a spiel on her show this morning about how nobody has long attention spans anymore. I forget why she said it was. Maybe she didn't; I was looking at her shoes. But as a tie-in to the earlier post about the iPhone bill, Ellen showed hers off to the audience... 900 pages, to the tune of $4300 for one month. Add an iPhone bill and that's about the total cost of my rent... for an entire YEAR. I think, even if I were rich, that kind of spending would shock me. Sometimes I'm happy to be oblivious to how much it costs to live on the greener side of the fence. Would Ellen be thrilled to get chrome portholes for HER birthday?

Actually... something tells me she would...

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Bohemian Medley

This is hilarious! And the guy's not half bad either...

Saturday, August 18, 2007

I smell... bacon!

perpetualkid.com
Here's a nifty gifty site I ran across recently. I haven't looked at *all* the items yet, but some of them are amusing, like the pack of office stickers that includes "I ♥ Marker Smell!" The site has schlocky stuff- USB-powered heated slippers, marshmallow guns, fake tattoo bandages- but I have to give props to any store with a whole section listed as "Bacon."

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Earth to iPhone: Ouch!

In all fairness, this is not the fault of the iPhone itself, but of the phone service providers attached... see what happens when an AT&T user gets her first iPhone bill.

Count the Rings

Living on the fringes of technology like I do, sometimes I wonder if inanity like this can be real. Apparently, it is, and she isn't the only one to get a bill of this nature.

In other modern-technology news, I got a singing hamster for my birthday. Thanks Mom!

Monday, July 23, 2007

Slices of Southern Pie

I Smell Bacon...

We were driving south from Charleston SC on Highway 17. Suddenly my husband swerved into the other lane and back. I saw something running away to my right.
"What was it?" I asked.
"Pig."
"What?"
"Pig!"
Sure enough, it was a little black pig, going as fast as his tiny hoofs would carry him across the road and into the woods. I'm used to seeing all manner of critters on the road: coon, possum, turtle, squirrel, groundhog, skunk, pheasant, peacock, and chicken, and once an armadillo (a live one!) but this was the first pig. Not a pot-belly pet either. It looked to me like a young wild ham on the hoof, but even if it was just an adventurous farm oinker, it was good for a laugh.

Seen In Charleston

West Ashley Bait & Tackle
Cold Beer, Hot Food, No Bait, No Tackle

(!)

T-Shirt

"Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!"

(Charleston Flea Market)

Disturbing Trend

Substituting spaghetti noodles for lo mein... saw this for the first time at a "Chinese Buffet" in Georgia, and again the next day in Harrisburg, PA. As a huge fan of (real) lo mein, I hope this doesn't catch on.

Perspective

When I was a kid, it seemed to take forever to climb to the top of the lighthouse. It's a lot shorter than I remember. Of course it's still 175 steps like it's always been, but I have (marginally) longer legs now!

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Bated Hooks

I see it so often lately.
It's my latest writing peeve.
I really want to ask those people if they were munching on earthworms, or if they prefer minnows... perhaps squid or chum? Have they caught anything?

I'm talking about all those folks writing that they are/were waiting with baited breath for something or other. Hopefully they're waiting for a shipment of Listerine...

To clarify, for all those wannabe writers with bait-breath:

bate [beyt] verb, bat·ed, bat·ing. –verb (used with object)
1.to moderate or restrain: unable to bate our enthusiasm.
2.to lessen or diminish; abate: setbacks that bated his hopes.
–verb (used without object)
3.to diminish or subside; abate.
4.with bated breath, with breath drawn in or held because of anticipation or suspense: We watched with bated breath as the runners approached the finish line.

Please correct yourselves and stop teasing hungry fish. Thank you.

7-11

Today is 7-11, and I really want a Slurpee...

Have I gone off on my nostalgic fondness for 7-11 before? I don't think so. At least, not here; I know I have in conversation on many occasions. I haven't seen a 7-11 in years. I know they're out there, and I know that a dozen of them are currently masquerading as Quik-E-Marts to promote the Simpsons movie, but this rave concerns the 7-11's of my youth... the ones that really were open from 7 AM to 11 PM.

The store I remember best was right at the edge of the military base housing area, on the "civilian" side. We lived on the military resident side. In order to get on the base, one had to drive up to the guard station and wait to be waved through after your credentials (window sticker, or on high security days, military ID card) were verified. To leave, one had to drive past the same guard shack. I was seven, and obviously I didn't drive; moreso, kids didn't have the same notions about protocol and security that adults and the US Marine Corps did. Thus on more than one occasion I took a shortcut along the cement drainage ditches that ran the length of the housing areas, crossed under a road through a sewer culvert, and followed a narrow path through the woods that bordered the base, finally emerging behind the 7-11 two miles from my house... barefoot, more often than not. (My mother thought I was out playing with friends. Those were the days when parents might see their kids twice between cartoons and supper- once to bandage a skinned knee and once to dole out lunch or a snack. They knew, if there was a problem, another mother would call them.)

Finally, I could spend my hoarded quarter or fifty cents, or more if I was lucky and had visited a generous relative lately. Back then, fifty cents bought a small brown paper bag of "penny" candy (which by that time cost 3 to 5 cents) or four to five more expensive items. For example, 10 cents for Gobstoppers. They used to be much larger and came in cellophane twin packs, usually two different colors per pack. I would dig around until I found either a yellow/orange combo or, very rarely, an accidental yellow/yellow pair. (Although they all tasted the same, I had a thing for yellow candy. I still do!)

Other 10-cent goodies included Lemonheads and the other Ferrara Pan boxed candies, like Jawbreakers, Boston Baked Beans, and mini Atomic Fireballs. Lemonheads were one of my high-ranking favorites. Banana and grape Laffy Taffy (5 cents) were up there too, along with Gobstoppers and that powdered candy that came in fruit-shaped bottles. I also loved foil-wrapped chocolate footballs (bottom shelf, in bins, 3 cents) and Charleston Chews (25 cents).

If I happened to be there with my parents, I would beg for Dukes of Hazzard trading cards. As I recall, the stick of gum inside was horrible-tasting but of little importance to me. I wanted a whole set of Dukes cards! I never did complete a set (was missing two), and a handful of the ones I had sort of wandered off someplace, but I still have a battered display box full of singles. I remember when the cards went up to 50 cents a pack and my mom stopped buying them for me... that ended my Dukes collecting, but there were other, cheaper cards to be had. I was also a sticker fanatic so anything that came with adhesive backing got my interest, especially Wacky Packages. There was another kind of pack that came with all stickers, including cards with nine oval word-balloons ("go away" "groovy" "crazy" etc) and I haven't been able to find or remember the brand. I have some of the cards, stickers intact, stashed away and someday I'll dig those out to check the name. I'm sure I saved at least two wrappers. I always did.

While Mom wouldn't let me have a large soda, sometimes I'd be able to get a Slurpee. I'm sure it was the Slurpee cups that occasionally had promotional items or prizes stuck under the bottom of the cup. Round trading cards, maybe, or contest game pieces. My memory is fuzzy on that one (blame it on the sugar buzz at the time.) Anyone else remember?

Our 7-11 had permanently sticky floors and smelled weird, like a cross between refrigerant and leaf mold. It didn't seem to do a lot of business; military residents frequented the base mini-mart just past the guard shack, which was cheaper and had a playground for the kids next to it. Not many people lived in the area then, so patrons were usually the few non-military locals or people running in after the base store had closed for the day. I vaguely recall when it closed down, then later reopened under some non-chain name, then eventually closed again after going through a few more owners and several pieces of plywood to replace the broken windows. The last time I went by the site was a small engine repair shop.

If I run across one, I'd like to go in a 7-11 and buy a Slurpee and a pack of Garbage Pail Kids cards. Just for old times' sake. Meanwhile, here's a neat link to some 7-11 factoids.

*Supposedly, July 11 is "7-11 Day" whereupon the stores give away 7.11-ounce Slurpees to 1,000 patrons.*

Sunday, July 01, 2007

5 Years


July 1, 2002 - July 1, 2007

"You had me from Howdy"

Monday, June 11, 2007

So Much for Art History

It's Baby Critter Season

Every year, I watch the geese show up and wander around until they pair up. Then I start looking for the goslings a few weeks after. Every year I notice that geese share babysitting duties with other geese, and it's not uncommon to see two big honkers followed by a dozen short ones and two more adults bringing up the rear. The group above crossed the same piece of road in front of me three or four times within two minutes. Were they lost? Confused? Trying to convince me to take their family portrait? I finally did stop watching them long enough to grab the camera, and of course the nice drill-team-style parade line broke up just then.

Also seen lately:
baby cows
baby horses
baby groundhogs
baby birds
baby muskrat (just one)
baby humans

Monday, June 04, 2007

Spoiled.

I sure feel spoiled...



We went to the Ford show this weekend... lots of great cars and trucks as usual, including ours. *snerk* Ordinarily we love pitching our tent and crashing outside, but this time I was quite happy to "wuss out" and book a room. It was hot hot hot and we're both burnt burnt burnt. Then the storms came through. So it was either 140 degrees with 85% humidity, or 140 degrees with 100% humidity. Just two straight days of haze. I was enjoying the chlorinated 100% humidity of the hotel swimming pool, myself. (We did one of those last-minute-online-booking things and lucked out. My only request was a swimming pool; we got the Radisson.)



On Saturday night we went to dinner and the Comedy Zone and had a good time, although the two bachelorette parties in the nightclub next door were in attendance at the show, and were obnoxiously loud. *shrug* I wish I could be a fly on the wall when their husbands-to-be check their phone messages... one of the comedians took the gals' phones and left some rather "interesting" messages for the guys. Dinner was great but not spectacular; breakfast the next morning made my day though.

On Sunday we decided to be kids again and went to Hershey. It was raining so Hersheypark wasn't an option, so we went to Chocolate World and took the tour. It's changed quite a bit since the last time I was there. But the chocolate smell is the same! YUMMMM. I don't even care for Hershey chocolate much (I prefer imported... which Hershey will be in the near future... that's another story) but there isn't a chocolate-lover in the world who wouldn't have at least considered jumping out of the tram and sticking their finger (or face) in that giant vat of melted chocolate.



We hit Fuddruckers for ostrich burgers for dinner, grabbed a brownie for the road, and headed on home. I gained 5 lbs, I just know it. I'll just have to work out a little more, that's all. SO worth it!

Friday, April 13, 2007

Happy Friday the 13th!

What a great day! it really is a great day, isn't it? The big ol' bright sun isn't glaring in my eyes, and the colder weather is keeping the aroma from that dead skunk in the road from getting too bad. And we haven't had enough snow yet this year; hearing there's more on the way is nice. I just finished doing our taxes and we owe a little bit, so no refund, but it could be worse, right? I don't know why we ended up having to pay in this year but it's a lesson learned for next year. I'll just have more deducted from my paycheck voluntarily. I sure love knowing that I'm helping my government, by letting them use my hard-earned money to fund all those necessary and important programs, don't you? Seriously, we'd never know just how damaging cow methane really is otherwise, and learning is half the battle. Oh, my husband is in the hospital, but that's okay too. He's getting his gall bladder removed. We didn't know there was anything wrong with it until this week, so it's a good thing they're taking it out! He might have had another attack later, like after he signed his official papers for his permanent state job and secured his health benefits. That was supposed to happen in 2 weeks, but he can't work for the next 4 to 6 weeks. I'm sure they'll hold the position for him. All those people waiting to get in, like he did, certainly know how hard it is to get a good state job and I know they'll be happy to wait just a little longer while he recovers. People are inherently good, you know. I'll be off work for a few days too, taking care of hubby when he comes home next week. Missing two days so far, and having to buy gas to go back and forth to the hospital, is eating into our finances but I'm not worried. Nothing matters but knowing he is going to be okay. And he will, of course, because it's Friday the 13th, and that is a lucky day! It always has been. Ask my grandfather, who said until his dying day that it was lucky. He died on a Friday the 13th. How fortunate is that, going on your lucky day! Wow. Just can't get any better around here, so I'm going to go back to bed. I hear Saturday the 14th isn't too bad either.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Excuse me, where is the lieu?

ARGH!

You know how I am about misspelled words, especially from a business standpoint. (Right now there is a sign on the main office door at work that begins "During the peek season, please use this office for office-related duties only." Um, okay, so that means... no photocopying your butt in case someone's peeking?)

That isn't what I'm going off about today, however. Today it's my otherwise-intelligent, college-educated boss's continuous misuse of the phrase "in lieu of." No less than three times a day (that I personally hear, so it could be more often) he will say a variation of the following:

"In lieu of the fact that the sun is shining, you should plan on watering all the petunias."

Not "in view of" or "considering" or "due to the fact" but instead of... which makes zero sense. Today he said "In lieu of what you have planned to water today, please keep an eye on the water level." I wanted to ask him "So... if I'm not using the water, you really think it'll go down?" Sadly, he wouldn't get it and I'd have to explain and I'd be the one looking like a nitpick for correcting him on a triviality in the first place. But it drives me crazy!

This is just one of many common words or phrases that get mangled on a daily basis. I might use a few myself, but in most cases it's deliberate and spoken with a wink. My boss, as I said, is a very smart, knowledgeable guy; it bothers me to see him inadvertently demean his intelligence in front of his superiors. It also bothers me to think that someone is peaking at me when I'm making copies...

Saturday, March 31, 2007

It's the last Saturday in March.

Already!

Random observations:
  • I want to adopt a Greyhound! Maybe two or three. I thought they were one-way dogs but after getting the chance to love up on one at an outdoor expo, it turns out they aren't. Their fur is softer than I expected, and -get this- they're LAZY. The woman running the booth called them "45-MPH couch potatoes" because they'd rather lay on the couch and sleep all day than go running around chasing things. I've wanted a Greyhound for years; oddly, this was the first time I took the opportunity to learn more about them.
  • Britney Spears articles are a waste of media. However, props to FedEx for somehow managing to come off smelling like a rose. Sure, it's a Fresno rose, which has an underlying aroma of cow manure, but overall he's being lauded as a good guy. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.
  • Speaking of stranger things... Michael Jackson made an appearance during daylight hours and without a veil, dashing rumors that he was once again attempting immortality not by way of a hyperbaric chamber this time but via vampirism.
  • Many years ago I got my left ear pierced. I didn't want to do both in case I didn't like it; easier to get it done than undone, and I could always go back for the other one. (I'd always heard that if you didn't wear the earring or piercing stud the hole would close over. Here it is, fifteen years later, and although I've worn an earring for an hour or two perhaps five times total, the piercing never did close or give me any trouble whatsoever.) Last night I finally got the right one done, for a matched set. Never let it be said that I make hasty decisions.
  • My husband received an inheritance from a family member's estate. He spent it on the complete set of Dukes of Hazzard DVDs.
If you're surfing over from Branded in the 80s, thanks for dropping by. Shawn was nice enough to give a shout-out... he also came up with much more information about my stickers than I ever knew or would have even thought about researching. Totally awesome, dude!

Friday, March 16, 2007

Wearin' O' The... White?

We had a white Valentine's Day and now a white St. Patrick's Day is coming... a white Easter is never out of the question, either.

A storm came through today and it's currently in the process of dumping 4 to 10 inches of snow upon us. After work, I was cleaning off the truck and dreading the slippery drive home... glanced at the road to see how bad it was... and there, in the middle of the road, hunched over, with his feathers puffed out and a very annoyed expression on his face, was a robin. No doubt he was disgruntled due to the sudden weather change from the warm temps we enjoyed last week. I saw what was surely this bird's brother back in February, the day after the Valentine's storm subsided, perched on a tiny tuft of grass surrounded by snow and looking just as pissed-off as the one today.

Of course, robins look angry all year round. They're the pompous jerks of the bird world. The one in the road most likely thought to his little bird self, "Oh, that is IT! I have HAD it with this weather and it better change RIGHT NOW because I am SO not getting that nest built for Matilda until it warms up and if she doesn't get a nest I will NEVER hear the end of her squawking about it. I am protesting RIGHT here RIGHT now and I will STOP TRAFFIC until the sun comes out!!!"
vroooom *AWK!*
"...I will sit over HERE and GLARE at traffic until the sun comes out. Ahem. Don't want to get my feet muddy, you know."

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us
Image by Richard Bradbury,
www.rsbp.org.uk

Sunday, March 11, 2007

Smells like... adhesive?


Today I was linkhopping and came across Branded in the 80s, a great nostalgia site. There's a section on 8os-era stickers; most of the ones showcased weren't ones I collected (although the name Panini brings back semi-fond memories) until I read the Scratch n' Sniff posts. I *loved* scratch n' sniffs. After viewing the pictures on that site I did some surfing and found more... all those "smells" came flooding back, almost as if I had my sticker books in front of me.

For the past few months I've been wondering how to capture a scent to sniff later... not creating it like perfume, but saving the smell of an early mountain morning or the vinyl interior of a vintage VW beetle or the aroma from a certain pizza parlor. These are scents I want to keep and re-smell, but it just isn't practical (or sane!) to fly 3,000 miles to sniff some pizza, or to visit a junkyard and ask the proprietor if you can smell his Bugs. I'm sure there's a way to do it, right? Maybe not a cost-effective, simple, or reasonable way, but if someone can make stickers that still smell like pickles and cotton candy 25 years later, surely it can't be impossible!

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

January, my foot!

Wow, was my last post ever off! It is not cold. (Yet.)

I'm outside today and I'm seeing ground. Dirt. Grass. BIRDS!

I'm seeing the head guy in my department come to work in shorts. I'm scrounging around in my bag for my sunglasses. I'm watching my new winter coat gathering dust while I wear sweaters... and sweat in them. And, of all things, I'm opening the kitchen window during the day to let air in because it's stuffy! This past week I was hanging out of that window, feeding the birds below me.

It's January.

According to the Farmer's Almanac, we should have been knee-deep in winter by now. Instead we've had some rain, three snowflakes, and a lot of crisp, bright days that feel more like late April than early January. I know it will get here though... we're going to have a slushy, mushy spring and snow for Easter, I betcha.

Another error in my prior post: Believe it or not, I have been upright AND conscious for both sunrise and sunset for two weeks. I have photos to prove it, for those of you who know me well enough not to believe me. The powers-that-be at work wanted everyone coming in at the same time instead of staggered like we were, and sunrise was hitting its peak colors just before 7 AM, so... there you go. Or there I went. After the first day and the first blood-red sunrise, I hustled out of the house not so much to get to work on time, but because if I was running late I wouldn't see the skyshow. How's that for incentive?

The twin nieces are healthy and beautiful. They're fraternal and have different personalities already. I was unable to visit over the holidays, due to work, but I sure hope to see them and my older niece and nephew soon! Everyone lives too far away and none of us want to move. :-P

New post at Alter Ego, link to the right --->

Finally, I said I had photos... here's one from this morning of a nice sun pillar. It was also the last photo I took with my camera before the battery-cover hinge broke.