After much turmoil and aggravation with my lame HTML coding skilz, I think I have mostly resurrected the Fantastic Green Blog template. I don't think I've left anything out, but since I've been all distracted (what with it being Ewan McGregor's Birthday and all), please let me know if you find something amiss.

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Happy Birthday to Ewan McGregor!

I think they should make this occasion a national Holiday. Meanwhile, I have a fantastic link to a lot of screenshots taken from Mr. McGregor's interview on Michael Parkinson's television show. There are many droolable photos to scroll through and the majority of them are close-ups.

Go out and enjoy the day!

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Tuesday, March 30, 2004

I'm broadcasting to you LIVE from The New Computer System at Home.

I hadn't planned to buy a new computer today. And I work in a computer store, for crap's sake, so it isn't like I can't buy one any time I get the hankering. My existing home system was meeting my needs, even though it's quite elderly, as computers go. I purchased it in summer 1999; it's a Gateway Pentium III, 550 MHz with 384 MB of memory and a 40 GB hard drive. It came with a DVD drive and a SuperDrive (the high-capacity floppies of the late 1990's that got trampled by the Iomega Zip drive people), and two USB ports. I added a CD burner and other stuff over the years.

Today, I saw it... the new system. It was an overshipment from Dell and they would rather pay us to keep them, than to send them back. The specifications called to me... Pentium 4, 2.8 GHz, 1 Gigabyte of memory, 80 GB hard drive, floppy drive (what's that about? I haven't used a floppy since 2000), DVD/CD-RW, and eight USB ports, all for the low, low, inclusive price of $699. It is so very rare to find a Dell desktop system for less than $700 that isn't some jacked-up POS machine with 128 MB of memory that's shared with the integrated video, or requires you to file seventy-eight pieces of paperwork within 24 hours to get a rebate, etc. But there it was on the sales floor, all lonely and needing a good home.

How could I resist? I brought it home and plugged it in. The biggest and most noticeable difference is that it is completely SILENT when it is on. When my old system was on, I could hear the fan whirring three rooms away. And the speed... sigh... I turn it on and it's on. When I turned on my old system, I would push the power button and go start some laundry. It would have booted up by the time I got back... most of the time.

I heart my new machine.

I can't guarantee that it will improve the contents of the blog, but with each new morning, there's fresh hope.

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Monday, March 29, 2004

In news that is neither depressing nor insurance-related, I bought a pair of sandals for the Spring and Summer season. Now, I know Mr. Trump doesn't allow open-toed shoes in the boardroom, but I couldn't pass these up.

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I think insurance is just a scam perpetrated upon people too afraid to go without it. I fall in to that category, so I can speak from knowledge. Haha!!

The basis for my rant on insurance is my latest go 'round with my homeowner's policy. When I purchased my home in January of 1991, I chose insurance with State Farm because that's who the bank suggested. Since the bank held the mortgage and homeowner's insurance was required to "protect their interest" in the property, I didn't argue.

A couple of years later, the water pipe in the laundry room froze. The shut-off handle blew off the pipe from the expanding ice, and water sprayed from ceiling to floor, filling the room. The place was destroyed, so I filed a claim with State Farm. I figured it was a "catastrophic loss", and they paid to have the room's interior (floor, walls, ceiling) replaced.

Right after I had my roof replaced, Mr. Mormon cut down a walnut tree and it fell on my house. That's a whole 'nother story, but he refused to tell his own insurance about it. I told him that it didn't matter whose tree it was, the person cutting it was responsible for where it landed. I had to phone up State Farm for assistance. They covered the loss, and made me sign paperwork to take Mr. Mormon's insurance company to court to recoup the cost. State Farm won in court (obviously) and got reimbursed from the other insurance company. My roof still leaks from the "repairs", but again, that a whole 'nother story.

That December, I got a letter from State Farm that said since I'd had two claims in five years, they were canceling my policy. WTF?! I called them to ask about the second claim, because that wasn't my fault, AND they got their money back. They said it was their "policy" to cancel anyone filing two claims in five years. Talk about a circular argument. I gathered up my paperwork and went to Allstate and transferred my coverage for home and auto to them.

Last month, I got a letter from my bank asking me to send them a copy of my proof of homeowner's insurance. They said they didn't get anything from Allstate, so I called up the insurance people. Allstate said, "It says here that your homeowner's policy was cancelled for non-payment". WTF?! I asked about my auto insurance coverage and they said that was fine, so I asked how THAT was possible, since I send in ONE check to cover BOTH policy premiums each month. How could my auto be paid up and not the homeowner's? Allstate finally said that they'd "refunded" my homeowner's payment and then cancelled the policy.

I had absolutely NO claims with Allstate, since I'd already learned my lesson that you really aren't supposed to USE your insurance coverage unless your house burns down. Even worse, the Allstate people were pretty snotty about the whole deal. They said they "might" be able to help me get coverage with one of their "other companies" at four times the cost, but they couldn't reinstate me because it is their "policy" to only write policies for people with uninterrupted insurance coverage. Yet, THEY are the ones who put me in an interrupted state!

I finally did what I should have done years ago. I went to the local Farm Bureau office and threw myself upon their mercy. I was about staggered to find out that they would cover my house for a quarter of the price of the premiums I'd been paying to Allstate. When I asked about auto insurance, I found out I could add Comprehensive Coverage to my Liability Only policy and STILL pay less than half of what I'd been paying to Allstate. With all the spare change that will be rattling around in my pocket in the coming months, I might be able to afford to spruce up the old home and auto.

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Sunday, March 28, 2004

Note to self (previously called "Word to your mother"):

If you fiddle with your blog template right before you go to bed, you are bound to screw something up. You will manage to single-handedly erase dang near everything, then wonder why it isn't showing up in Preview Mode. Yet, you will still save your changes, like the sleepy fool you are. Then you will have to stay up an extra ninety minutes while you attempt to replicate your original template (since you don't have a backup, you'll fail at this endeavour) before you are reduced to choosing a generic Blogger template so you can get back on track.

Bang head repeatedly on computer desk until you remember that Ewan McGregor's birthday is this Wednesday, so there IS something to look forward to, after all.

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At the grocery store check-out:

Me: Oh, and please add a bag of ice to my total.

Cashier: A small bag or a large bag?

Me: The small bag, please. (pause) You know, I used to make my own ice at home, but I've lost the recipe.

(Sulky teenage cashier nods her head)

Bagboy (about three minutes later): Don't you make ice out of water?

Cashier (backhands bagboy in the shoulder): You idiot! She was just joking!

Bagboy (blushing beet red): I... I was just trying to be helpful...

Cashier: I'm telling the manager that I don't want you working in my lane.

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Saturday, March 27, 2004

I went to the library to check out some movies today. I got About Schmidt, which was a good film, but exceptionally depressing. I also got Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. It was based on an autobiography by Chuck Barris and reminded me a LOT of A Beautiful Mind. I just wonder what delusions schizophrenics harbor now that the Iron Curtain has been torn down and Communism is no longer the threat it once was.

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Friday, March 26, 2004

Is it too much to ask to want to work at a place where The Boss isn't a bag of hot gas?

For whatever reason, The Boss has decided to move desks around, like we're all in elementary school. He thinks it will increase productivity if people are seated next to co-workers they absolutely hate. His reasoning is that they will sit in silence and work alone all day, rather than enjoy the company of their co-worker and have the potential to collaborate and cooperate (i.e., talk to each other). Clearly, I disagree, but I have no say in the matter.

All week long, desks, computers and people have been on the move. Everything is not yet settled, but now KIA has moved where The Angry Old Woman used to sit. Ms. Drug Seeker is still in the same place, but her desk has been turned around to face KIA. A Berlin Wall Partition was erected between the two of them, because MDS threatened to come across her desk and strangle KIA. TAOW moved to a space that used to house cast-off equipment, and she and MDS are sitting back to back. CK is supposed to move to KIA's vacant area, but there has been a problem.

When KIA moved, she left a lot of crap at her old desk. Like a disgruntled renter who can't be arsed to take down or throw out an old picture on the wall, she just left everything she didn't want over at her new desk. The cleaning lady has refused to touch the area. She has offered CK the use of "some rubber gloves and a lot of germicide" to clean it herself. SBC thinks a HazMat team should be called in. This is how she left her desk for the new tenant:

Lest you imagine that it's nothing a little dusting couldn't take care of, I made sure to get a close up of all the funk and grit on the actual work surface.

A still life with three stained, abandoned coffee cups and a snack bowl. A Misfortune Cookie sits forlornly to the right.

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Thursday, March 25, 2004

CK laughed at me when I told her I've been watching Donald Trump's television show, "The Apprentice". She said she doesn't waste her time watching reality TV, but I tried to tell her this was different.

1) Non-stop laughs over The Donald's hair.
2) A boss who actually expects results from his employees. Those that don't perform, and those that make excuses for poor performance are cast out on the street.
3) Kissing up to the boss and other transparent political actions are seen for what they are, and it doesn't work.
4) Great ideas from the employees are lauded.
5) Non-stop laughs over The Donald's hair.

I'll be watching again tonight.

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Wednesday, March 24, 2004

After work tonight, I stopped by a Marathon station to put some gas in the car. Since the price had been jacked to $1.79 per gallon, I'd been trying to wait until the price fell again, but I couldn't wait any longer. The Marathon station advertised regular for $1.74 per gallon, so I thought that sounded "reasonable" (considering). It wasn't my usual station, so I looked at the pump to make sure there wasn't some weird way to operate it.

That's when I noticed it.

The price for regular was $1.74. The price for super was $1.94. The price for Super Duper was nine cents. Nine cents!!!!!! Guess who gassed up their car?! All fourteen gallons, I might add.

I went inside to pay (hahahahaha!!!!) and the clerk said "the guy" had come to fill up the tanks and reset the prices, but had screwed up on the price of Super Duper. No kidding! I wish I had a giant barrel I could take over there and fill up with cheap gas for later use.

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It's time once again for Wednesday Wreck of the Week!

This week brings us an unusual accident that involved a boat. A man driving a large Ford truck was towing a boat on a trailer behind him when the boat decided to leave. The boat escaped from the trailer and got dragged a few hundred feet before the truck driver noticed what happened and slammed on his brakes.

Yes, traffic was completely stopped for so long that I was able to get out of my car, walk over to the accident and snap a photo while the boat was being loaded on to a tow truck. When traffic was moving again, I was able to get a close-up of the boat as I passed it.

The bottom rear section of that poor boat was totally scraped off. It had a very severe cash of road rash and the gaping hole rendered it un-seaworthy.

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Tuesday, March 23, 2004

In the latest issue of Backpacker magazine, they discuss women's gear options. Incredibly, they chose the Patagonia thong as a Must Have for backcountry excursions. They said since it was "quick to dry" (probably because there's not much cloth to begin with!), it was ideal for kayaking, rafting, backpacking and so on. I just can't imagine climbing the north face of some mountain with a piece of fabric floss wedged between my ass cheeks.

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Monday, March 22, 2004

In the spring of 2001, the three-floor historic building across from my office burned down. More specifically, the interior was gutted, though the exterior brick remained. The entire inside of the building is vacant. There are no walls, no floors, nothing. Just the outside brick. We were going to get a new administrator that July, so the reconstruction was delayed until a plan could be decided upon. Last year, we were all sent begging letters asking us to help defray the cost of rebuilding. The majority of the staff have always believed that it would be far cheaper to bulldoze the remains, then sell off the "historic bricks" to pay for some of the reconstruction costs, than it would be to try to restore it.

Construction crews have taken over the area. And no one can see what's going on, exactly, but there's a lot of people and equipment over there. This has gone on for so long, that someone finally cracked and wrote a mild complaint to the staff list serv. That spawned many replies, which I found funny and thought I'd share:

Original: "I see the work area for the Building daily. The work area has a bunch of trailers, not unlike a trailer park (except without the concrete gnomes), surrounded by a fence which is wrapped in green material like a work of art by Christo which he had lost interest in and abandoned at some early point. I think that the area with its wrapped fence needs some pink flamingoes to go around it, something to dress it up a bit.  They would look very nice against the dark green material."

Guy from HR: "The pink against the green would be a little too Laura Ashley country causal for me.  Can we find another decoration that doesn't clash?"
Lady from Services: "Why not a little 70's retro - Harvest Gold or maybe 60's - orange and purple?"
Lady from Engineering: "How about some little pinwheels that spin in the breeze - they come in a wide variety of colors."
Lady from IT: "How about some of those 'gazing balls'?????"
Original guy: "You know the scaffolding would make a great trellis."
Lady from IT: "Ooooohhhhhh! I know, how about some big tires for flowerbed borders!!!!"
Lady from Payroll: "Well, then, if we're going to have some big tires for flower bed borders, let's have a mailbox on a chain that's welded to stand upright, and let's plant some coxcomb at the base."
Guy from Security: "First you have to turn the tires inside out and then paint them white!"
Original guy: "Can't go too far, else we'll need a Chevy on cinder blocks, an overstuffed couch, a washer and dryer and a freezer out there, too. Not to mention a satellite dish."
Guy from Security: "And some 'coon dogs...."

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Sunday, March 21, 2004

Obituary:

General Electric Disposall Model GFC300-02

January 12, 1990 - March 20, 2004.

Rest in Peace.

You will be greatly missed.

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Saturday, March 20, 2004

Today while raking up the rest of the leaves in the front yard, I happened upon the first snakes of the season. I think St. Patrick must have driven them over here in an Accord and dropped them off.



I followed him around so that I could take his picture, but he wasn't very thrilled with that idea. I found his friend trying to hide under the big oak tree.



I used to be frightened of snakes. But after living with them in the front yard for the past thirteen years, we have an understanding. They understand that they won't try to come inside the house, and I understand that they won't slither over my foot when I'm outside. I'm at the point now where I can just listen and tell the difference between a slight breeze rustling leaves, and a snake wandering through them.

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Friday, March 19, 2004

There's just something funny about a naked mole rat named Rufus.

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When I was in college band, there was a girl who was the "feature twirler". She twirled a baton, and the only memory I have of her performance was of the time she dropped a couple of batons that were on fire and set the dry football field grass aflame.

Anyway, once the whole band took a trip to an away football game. We spent a long time riding a bus on a Friday, stopped in one city that night, then spent more time on the bus Saturday morning before arriving at the game. That night, we were all exhausted and stuck in a hotel in the middle of nowhere. I was sitting at a table, eating dessert with a friend of mine, when Feature Twirler herself came over. She looked at my plate for a long time before asking, "What is that called?" I told her, "Chocolate cake..." She looked at me hard before saying, "That's not what it's called." I pointed at the dessert menu where the item was listed as "chocolate cake" and she moved on.

Last night, I saw her on television. She used to be a local TV news anchor, but now she was on PBS for their pledge drive. She stood there talking about the premiums you'd get if you called in "right now". Then she held up a set of Elvis cassette tapes and, with a puzzled look on her face, asked someone off-camera: "What are these things called? Track tapes? Or what?"

A flunkie had to come over and tell her they were cassette tapes. She asked, "What do you play them on? No one has anything to play these on..." The flunkie tried to cover by saying that his car didn't have a CD player, so he could use them in the tape player in his car radio. She said to him, "You're 21 and you don't have a CD player in your car?" Fortunately, someone else stepped in to right the derailed conversation by reminding us all to call in our pledges.

The more things change, the more they stay the same, I guess.

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Thursday, March 18, 2004

I went to lunch with TAC this afternoon, so he could talk me down from the ledge. We went up to the local Greasy Spoon for burgers and fries. The BEST part of the meal was the extra-thick milk shake made with Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies. Yummm......

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Since I was running ahead of schedule for a change this morning, I thought I'd stop in at the Kroger store to pick up some Diet Mt. Dew so I'd have fuel for the workday. Little did I know that I would encounter a surly clerk so early in the day.

There was one lane open and an older white gentleman was checking out. A large black woman was standing behind him, and I got in line behind her. As the man was paying, the woman in front of me left and wandered over to the doughnut counter in the bakery. The man left and the clerk looked at me and asked if those were my groceries on the conveyor belt. I told her no, that the woman had left the line. Instead of asking me to come forward so that she could check out my ONE item, the clerk started to scan the absent woman's groceries. While we all stood there waiting, a shorter woman with a Mediterranean look about her came up behind me in the line.

The doughnut lady strolled back to the line and got BEHIND the Mediterranean woman. She'd completely forgotten that she'd already been standing in line and that she'd already shopped for groceries. I waved her to the front of the line and said, "Your stuff is already bagged..." She came forward and got the total from the clerk, then asked me if she could borrow my Kroger Plus Card. That's when the clerk busted out her big speech about how there isn't supposed to be any "customer sharing" of the Plus Cards ("Why not?" I wondered to myself... because it messes up their data mining on an individual's shopping habits??) and that she could get fired if she were to allow any rule-breaking in her line.

Ignoring the clerk, I told the woman I didn't have my card and I asked the lady behind me if she had hers. She did, so she handed it to me and I handed it up to the woman in front of me. The clerk got very thin-lipped over my actions and snapped, "I'm on camera, you know." I told her, "It's OK. We're sisters. And we all live in the same house. So we can use the same card."

I guess I'll have to find a different Kroger to shop at until this clerk quits her job in disgust because of all the unruly patrons.

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Wednesday, March 17, 2004

While reading the film reviews in a local independent newspaper:

Me: Hey, look... this reviewer is talking about The Passion of the Christ and he says the Pope didn't give the movie a great review. Then he says that he doesn't think the Pope actually watched the film, because every picture he's seen shows the Pope all bent over like he's dozing.

Mr. Capp: The Pope has Parkinson's Disease.

Me: Yes, he does.

Mr. Capp: What is Parkinson's Disease?

Me: It's some kind of nerve problem.

Mr. Capp: So, that means you have Mr. Capp-inson's Disease.

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Happy St. Patrick's Day to everyone!

Go have some fun today and help St. Patrick drive the snakes out of Ireland! Or, more precisely, be the snake that gets away...

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Tuesday, March 16, 2004

I told CK that she should write her own blog. She said that if she had one, her blog would exist solely to publicly dispute my version of events.

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Yesterday at lunch, I went around the corner to Wok The Dog and ordered the pineapple chicken Luncheon Special. The order taking guy asked me about CK and I told him she had taken lunch earlier in the day. He said that he was sorry she'd passed out after eating there and that her next meal was free. I told him that I would give her the message.

And I did tell her when I got back to work, but CK just went off on a rant. She said, "It wasn't the damn Chinese food! It was the fact that Aunt Flo had been visiting for eighty days straight!" I told her that was just Too Much Information.

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Monday, March 15, 2004

Confidential to the woman who always lights a match in the ladies' restroom after depositing the foulest-smelling dump possible:

You're only fooling yourself, dear. We can still smell it. Now it just smells like an extinguished match fell into a commode full of crap.

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Today is the one day a year the City will come around to your house and pick up dang near anything you can haul to the curb. That means that the box spring that's been leaned up against my oak tree out front since October will finally be removed. It also means that I got to see a lot of things that my neighbors have been storing inside their homes for the past year... old console television sets, broken-down sofas, clapped-out recliners and other detritus.

Last year, someone took the opportunity to throw out an entire house-ful of stuff. The City wigged out and refused to take any of it, so it stayed on the sidewalk in front of the house. The local newspaper came around and took a photograph and published it with a caption of, "Too much trash?" This angered the owners, of course, who claimed that they were being unfairly singled out and that they were "embarrassed" by the picture. Yet, anyone driving by the place could see the huge pile, so what difference did it make for the picture to be published?

The end result is that the City now says that they "retain the right to refuse pick up of larger than normal" loads of junk. By way of clarification, they specified that to mean any pile that would single-handedly fill the truck AND still have trash left over. If the trash man has to make more than one trip to your house, you should really just rent a Dumpster.

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Beware the Ides of March!

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Saturday, March 13, 2004

I drove to The Big City today to visit my dad in the hospital. For the majority of the drive, this is what I saw:



My dad has been in the hospital for almost two weeks now and the doctors still don't know when he might be able to leave. Yesterday, he was sick with what they think was a stomach bug, and it wiped him out. It was just as well he was at a place that could take care of him and get him some IV fluids before he got dehydrated.

Since I needed some cereal and cat food, I stopped at the grocery store and discovered this soup homage to Andy Warhol:




They didn't have the cat food I wanted, so I stopped at a Wal-Mart, where I discovered that they sell far different chairs than those offered by my local Mart:

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I bought some Fish Treats today, but my fish is afraid of them. He slowly swam to the surface to investigate a couple of times, but soon rushed away to hide behind his ceramic gnome in the bottom of the tank.

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Friday, March 12, 2004

I am here, but exhausted from last night's whirlwind of activity.

After work yesterday, I drove over to CK's house and knocked on the door. When she answered, she was dressed in a female version of a smoking jacket. She said, "Welcome to the Dojo of Love. I will be your Sensei of Sensuality for the evening," and she led me in to the dimly lit, lightly fragranced room. Soft music was playing and candles were everywhere. CK handed me a glass of sweet tea and showed me to a comfortable chair to wait while she finished cooking the meal.

As I glanced over at the selection of reading material spread out on the coffee table, I noticed that CK had Betty Page Confidential, some works by Serge Jacques, The Troubles of Janice and something called Nylons. I cleared my throat and nervously asked if she needed any help in the kitchen. "No, no, my Sweet..." she replied. "I will take care of everything for you."

Moments later, she returned to the room and invited me in to the dining room. The table was set and a candle was burning.



When I pulled out my chair to sit down, I noticed a book in the seat.



CK chuckled as she took the book from the chair and said, "Just a bit of light reading for later..."

Our supper of spaghetti, garlic bread and salad was delicious. She tried to offer me some brownies for dessert, but I was concerned that they may be laced with sedatives, so I declined her offer by saying I was stuffed full. I said it was probably time to leave for the class at the Library, and CK said, "Let me check my McCloskey, er clock...Oh, yes, it IS time. Let me change my outfit before we leave.."

I cleared the table while CK disappeared upstairs. I found a stalking shrine in her kitchen, but it was to David Duchovny. I stood staring at it and was startled when CK silently reappeared in only a negligee and thigh-high stockings. She'd come to get an item from the shrine, and then she went back upstairs.

Once CK came back downstairs refreshed, we put on our coats and headed out to the Library. When we walked in to the conference room, the presenter looked at CK and said, "I thought I had a restraining order against you." Stunned, I said to him, "You, too??" Visibly shaken, he left the room and we signed the register.

We walked to our seats and ran into Pat, the woman who organizes these events. She said to us, "I am so happy to see both of you back again!" I said, "CK invited me to this seminar because there are no scissors involved." Pat said, "Haha! Speaking of scissors, why don't you both come to a craft night we're having next month. We're going to cover cigar boxes with decorative paper and when you're finished with it, you can use the box to store papers or whatever you like." CK asked, "Like ceremonial scissors one might use in rituals?" Pat nodded her head like she knew what we were talking about, then *slowly* backed away to speak with some other attendees.

The actual seminar was OK, I guess. The shaken man's editor took over and was batty about saying he wouldn't read any submission if a writer hadn't sent a query letter first. He suggested beginning writers try getting published in some religious magazines, because they pay well for Devotionals. I leaned over and asked CK if that meant our story about Samhain rites could reach a wider audience outside the local coven, but she just shrugged her shoulders. The editor also said that magazines appreciate when you write about Seasonal Holidays, but that you need to send in articles well in advance, so I told CK that we'd better get working on our Lammas and Autumn Equinox Sabbat papers. When the session was over, we loaded up on an assortment of Pepperidge Farm Distinctive Cookies (the true writer's indulgence), Salt and Pepper potato chips, cheese slices and juice.

The ride home was uneventful except for the one time CK grabbed my thigh and gently squeezed, then murmured apologetically, "Sorry, I thought that was the gearshift." Any higher and I would have shown her some shifting gears. All I can say dear readers is that I am very happy to be here and share my story with you. Oh, and support the Friends of the Library. They helped make this adventure possible.

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Thursday, March 11, 2004

My Neurotic Middle Cat has allergies that cause his skin to itch. As a result, he bites himself, tears out his fur, and scratches non-stop. Non. Stop. He is usually covered in scabs or bloody patches and his fur is in all stages of growth. Even when he takes allergy medication and there's no reason to scratch, he does it out of habit. The vet prescribes Prednisone for him when the situation gets intolerable, but it isn't something he can take all the time.

I gave him his first dose last night and he never scratched at all. He seemed so much happier and looked like he slept a lot better. I think the Prednisone makes him forget that he scratches. Hopefully, he will heal up and the effects will last for several months.

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CK has asked me out on a date tonight. We are supposed to go to a program at the Public Library called, "Writing for Magazines: A Beginner's Guide". Since it doesn't start until 7, she has invited me over to her house to eat supper before we go learn how to become published magazine writers.

If you all don't hear from me by tomorrow morning, assume the worst.

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Wednesday, March 10, 2004

After a brief hiatus, it's time for the return of Wednesday Wreck of the Week! {applause}

I passed this freshly washed, freshly crumpled truck on my way home yesterday. The other car had just come through the intersection while this guy was making an attempt to turn left before the light changed. Lesson learned: two vehicles cannot occupy the same section of the road at the same time.

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Yesterday afternoon, I saw The Angry Old Woman entering the ladies' restroom out in the hall. I wanted to wait until she was seated, then run hard in to the door with my shoulder and yell, "Police! Open up!"

The restroom shares a thin wall with another department's conference room. When they are having meetings, you can hear everything they are talking about. Several times, I have wanted to go in to the restroom while they were having an important discussion, stand next to the wall and make horrible groaning noises, then drop something large into the commode.

Juvenile, innit?

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Tuesday, March 09, 2004

Last week, we stopped off to eat at Macaroni Grill before we left town. For an appetizer, we split an order of Mozzarella alla Caprese. Oh. Man. It was delicious.



For the meal, I ordered the Chef's Special they were trying out that night. It was a wood-fire baked pizza with spiced pears, glazed walnuts and gorgonzola cheese. He got chicken something or other.



The waiter told me they didn't have sweet tea, but they did have flavored teas, so I tried the traditional raspberry. When the waiter returned, he said that I could mix and match flavors, since they just throw in a shot of syrup at the bar. What a clever idea! I tried every flavor they had: mango, apricot, blackberry mint and strawberry. At one point, there were four full glasses of tea at my place setting. I must have consumed fourteen or fifteen glasses of the stuff! Later in the evening, I felt like this:



But it was all worth it.

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I just got off the phone with a vendor who was making small talk about the weather, so I asked him where he was located. Wisconsin, he said. Oh, you all have that football team up there, I said. We have a basketball team, too, he said. And probably a hockey team, too, I said. Now you're just being ignorant, he said.

How was I to know?

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Public Service Announcement for Tuesday:

Fruit of the Loom Mini Boxers for women. Buy some today. You won't regret your purchase.

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Monday, March 08, 2004

Tonight, after supper, I was thinking about my dad and his business and how my brother is in the middle of a meltdown over it. I want to help, but can only stand on the sidelines and throw a bit of advice out when I'm asked. My father is hard to define because he embodies so many contradictory attitudes.

When I was growing up, my father taught me that it is better to rely on yourself than to wait for others to help you; he felt it was especially important that women be self-sufficient. He showed me how to take care of a car; change the oil, change a flat tire, bleed the brake line, replace a water pump and more. He showed me how to fix a lawnmower and cut the grass; how to trim hedges; how to paint and wallpaper a room; how to get rid of bugs that were smart-aleck enough to walk into the house; how to defend myself against thugs; how to balance a checkbook and manage credit wisely; and so on. Thus, I was turned out in to the world an independent woman.

Yet, at the same time, he did not ask me to become involved with his business when he bought it several years ago. He asked my brother, who accepted. I asked my father about that and his answer was that my brother "had gone to college". I reminded him that I'd also gone to college and had graduated, like my brother. He said that my brother's degree was in Civil Engineering, as if that were answer enough. How does an engineering degree make a person better suited to run a business?

Now when crunch time comes, my brother has crumbled. I want to help, but can't. I don't know the name of the bookkeeper; my brother has "the suitcase" (which reminds me of Pulp Fiction); as Treasurer of the company, my brother can sign the payroll checks and I can't. I'm an outsider.

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"Flood" photos from this weekend. This is across and down the street from my house. If you can pick out the white pontoon boat towards the middle left of the picture, then you know where the creek bank is.



This is at the end of my street. Usually, there is a field and not a creek in this location.



And this is for those of you who are bored from looking at pictures of muddy water and would rather look at a Random Stranger whose picture was taken while I was in Stealth Mode at lunch today.

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As soon as I walked in to my office, KIA was behind me. I hadn't even taken off my coat or set down my Diet Mt. Dew. She'd seen a book in my hand when I came through the door, and I guess that's what sparked her attention. I'll be hiding all books in the future.

KIA: What are you reading?
Me: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.
KIA: Ah, yes. Is this your first time reading it, or are you reading it again?
Me: It's my first time.
KIA: I remember reading it in the fourth grade. My teacher said she thought it was inappropriate for me, because of the subject matter.
Me: You're so feckin' old, you were probably in fourth grade in 1943 when the book was published.

No, I didn't say that last line. But I thought it. I don't know what else she droned on about, because I had already switched off my hearing.

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Sunday, March 07, 2004

Weird things I heard today:

1) My mother told me that my brother is freaked out about having to cover for my dad at my dad's shop. His wife found him sitting in his car, crying his eyes out and saying that he was a complete failure and was letting his father down. His wife said he won't eat, and can't sleep, so he sits in a chair, and drinks bourbon and Coke until he passes out. She has begged my mother to take this "burden" from him. Clearly, my brother collapses in a crisis. I offered to go out to the shop and set everything and everyone straight. But, you know... if my brother couldn't do it, then it stands to reason that I can't, either, so I won't be given the opportunity.

2) The weather lady on the nightly news said, "We had a bit of weather today."

3) While I was visiting my dad at the hospital today, his roommate was watching a Nascar race that was being broadcast from Las Vegas. I realized that he was humming Tim Wilson's song, "Jeff Gordon's Gay" every time the Number 24 Chevrolet was shown.

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Saturday, March 06, 2004

First off, I want to thank everyone for their good thoughts and well-wishes for my dad and my family. It really means a lot to me to know that there are people out there that care so much.

You know how in job performance appraisals, they tell you to sandwich the bad news in between good news? That's what I'm going to do for this post.

Good News:

• Dad is off the respirator and is able to sit up in a chair for short periods of time.
  
• He can walk very short distances with assistance and can eat solid food.
  
• He has been moved from the Intensive Care Unit to the Progressive Coronary Care Unit.
  

Bad News:

• The cardiologist said that my father's heart only works at 25% capacity, so he really needs to stop working 13-hour days.
  
• My brother got "physically ill" when he had to go out to my dad's business and figure out how to pay all the employees.
  
• Creek's up. It went from 13 feet yesterday to 19 feet today; all in 12 hours. And it's still rising. I'll post pictures later, but for now, I'm going to help the neighbors move their stuff.
  

Good News:

• Big bags of Swedish Fish were on sale for a dollar at Wal-Mart.
  
• My boss has been very kind about the time I have taken off to be with my family.
  
• My mother has calmed down now that my father isn't connected to so many machines.
  

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Tuesday, March 02, 2004

Not So Funny Mom Phone Call, circa 9:30 Monday night:

Me: Hello?
Mother: Your dad isn't home from work, yet.
Me: What time was he supposed to be home?
Mother: He called me at 7:30 to say he was leaving the shop.
Me: ...
Mother: Where do you think he is?
Me: Mmmm.... have you called him?
Mother: I called the shop and his cell phone, but there's no answer.
Me: Did call the police to see if they've seen him?
Mother: No.
Me: Do you want me to call them?
Mother: No. {Neighbor knocks on door} Wait a minute... {Neighbor says Dad's poker buddies are driving out to the shop to see if they can find him; suggests Mother call police to see if they know anything} Let me call the police and then I'll call you back.
Me: Good idea.

Apparently, after my Dad called my mother to say he was coming home, he sat in his car awhile. He felt bad enough to call 911 for himself. When the paramedics found him, he was unresponsive, had sweated through his clothes, and was an awful gray color. The paramedics intubated him and took him to the Emergency Room. They were able to determine that he had Congestive Heart Failure, so they gave him a lot of Lasix to drive off the fluid, then admitted him to the ICU.

I drove to The Big City this morning, and visited with my parents at the hospital. Later in the afternoon, the doctor said that, according to the lab results, it seemed my father had a heart attack. They were going to continue checking the levels of CK enzymes to make sure that's what had happened. My father was on the ventilator all day, and peed off about three liters of fluid in five hours. He was still on the ventilator when I left, but he looked a lot better. I called my mother when I got home and she said that my father motioned that he wanted to write something, so they gave him a paper and pencil. He wrote "7-Up", but the nurse said he couldn't have anything as long as the ventilator was hooked up; so he took the paper back and wrote "When ventilator out?" and she answered "Maybe tomorrow". I'm glad that he is so coherent.

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Monday, March 01, 2004

Since I have a ridiculous obsession with Ewan McGregor, I spend a little time looking up new pictures and information. Today I got all excited because I located a Star Wars: Episode 3 "spy clip" that featured snippets of action sequences being filmed, a little interview with McGregor and Hayden Christensen, and other stuff all set to the song "Back in Black". Christensen looked dead fierce and scary depicting his character's plunge towards the Dark Side.

I'm such a geek.

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Wendy asked if I worked seven days a week, since it seemed I was always AT work. She has a point, since I often FEEL like I am always at work. Therefore, I decided to make the most of Sunday and actually go somewhere! I went to Target to use some Gift Cards I'd gotten in December. While I was there, I figured I should take some pictures and share the day with my Loyal Readers.

The first stop was the ladies' clothing department. Looks like tank tops are in again this summer, eh?



The next stop was the candy lane. I had a hard time picking one box, but I settled on the JujyFruits.



The last stop was lingerie. I won't divulge my purchase information, but here's a picture for those who are interested in the selections available.

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Pinch, punch, First of the Month, no returns.

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