Some little Ram is having a birthday today...
I've just had a long conversation with The Self about the confusing vicissitudes of love. Or such as it is perceived in middle school. From what I gather, the very mild version of 'going out' as practiced at her school consists of simply saying, "Will you go out with me?" and if both parties agree then that's pretty much it. No hand-holding, let alone first base (there is a God, I told you) or anything beyond a 'side-hug', even though they've seen and heard way beyond what I ever had by that age myself. But what I really noticed is that none of them seem capable of falling in love. Or if they're capable, they just don't.
I figure my memory has failed me or something because I believe with all my heart that in middle school I had gone somewhere beyond crush and obsession and could be just totally in love with someone. Where everything you think about is related to them, and you talk to them secretly on the phone until 2 AM. Your eyes sparkle when you see them. You have a stupid grin on your face all the time. Your pulse races. Not obsession or Guys Who Wear Garden Clogs stalking. Nothing physical, but just completely washed over with romance and sentiment. Did anyone else feel this way? Were Drew and The Refugee just really lucky girls? I mean I showered them with genuine affection and gifts, I was nice to their families, the works. I have to ask Drew about this. But I explained all of this to The Self and she says she knows of no one (and she knows everyone) who feels that way in an obvious manner, which would indicate they are still at an unrequited secret crush level. What do you say? When does that kick in - or is it dead these days?
Friday, March 31, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
A Bleedin' Tragedy
If you know me, you know I'm not a joiner. I don't go to church because I love Jesus, but not his fanclub. I knit, but not in circles. I mourn the decline of Oddfellows, Moose and Elks (even though they're supposed to be making a come back) but I wouldn't join them anyway. But today all that changed. I joined the gang at Guys Who Hate Guys Who Wear Garden Clogs. I was at the blood institute making my triweekly donation of platelets when this really annoying guy came in. He's toying with 60, tall, thin (very distrustful qualities) and he's one of those people who get really comfortable somewhere because they have nowhere else to be and acts like he owns the place or worse yet, like he works there. I see it all the time at the Last Public Place in America. They come behind the desk or they ask to use the stapler once and before you know it you're witnessing a progression from habit to constititutional right. Well anyway this guy, who obviously has no post-retirement life, plops down in the couchy thing and gets set to give. OK, one of the awesome things about donating - besides saving lives - is that you get a full array of free snacks and an overstocked fridge with every imaginable non-potent potable. Well this guy brought his own snacks - granola and grapes. That is just wrong on so many levels. And then he starts in on Chilean grapes. And then I see them. He stretches out and he has on beige plastic garden clogs. You know the ones. With the slingback. The ones like Genie and other middle-aged women wear. I don't care how comfortable they are. That is just so wrong on so many levels.
Meanwhile there's me and a really attractive fortyish businesswoman in there about to finsh. After she leaves he asks the nurse who's the woman, is she a regular, what does she do? She seems really familiar he says. "I do lots of volunteering, though, so I could've seen her anywhere," he says. Please. That is just stalker codetalk. And the nurses told him everything about her. As a nominal protector of three, I got really angry with all of them. I asked the nurse, isn't that a HIPAA violation or something and she says oh he's harmless. He comes in here all the time, he's one of our biggest donors. So now I'm a member of the GWHGWWGC.
Meanwhile there's me and a really attractive fortyish businesswoman in there about to finsh. After she leaves he asks the nurse who's the woman, is she a regular, what does she do? She seems really familiar he says. "I do lots of volunteering, though, so I could've seen her anywhere," he says. Please. That is just stalker codetalk. And the nurses told him everything about her. As a nominal protector of three, I got really angry with all of them. I asked the nurse, isn't that a HIPAA violation or something and she says oh he's harmless. He comes in here all the time, he's one of our biggest donors. So now I'm a member of the GWHGWWGC.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
They Have Taken My Lord and I Don't Know Where They Laid Him
Well, actually, I do. Down at the county slammer. Not that those earthly bonds could hold him! Yeah, this morning around 10:00 at the Last Public Place in America this dude was escorted out in cuffs by two of OKC's finest (wearing bulletproof vests, I might add). Apparently, a woman was making a call on her cell phone (not a stall call) and this guy, we'll call him ... Jesus, thought she was taking a photograph of him. And so he knocked the phone out of her hand and reminded her that you can't take photos of Jesus. 'Cause he is Jesus. He would know. So Jesus is spending the night in the pokey pending assault charges. I think the part about not taking photos of him was in one of the Gospels that got cut at the last minute. I told the security guard, "well at least he didn't 'know' her." But he didn't get my biblical meaning so it was a wasted gem. Bible quizzers should be getting it about.........now.
The Killer has announced her birthday wishlist. A French Revolution "war set", a Jesus action figure from Archie McPhee, and more mixes for her Easy Bake Oven. I have no idea where to find a French Revolution war set. I'm sure toy guillotines were banned in the 1960s. The kid loves Marat, what can I say?
The Killer has announced her birthday wishlist. A French Revolution "war set", a Jesus action figure from Archie McPhee, and more mixes for her Easy Bake Oven. I have no idea where to find a French Revolution war set. I'm sure toy guillotines were banned in the 1960s. The kid loves Marat, what can I say?
Monday, March 27, 2006
Have You Any Dreams You'd Like To Sell?
Ew..I just quoted Fleetwood Mac. Actually, that Rumours album is one of my guilty pleasures because it is centered around one of my fondest memories. It was the summer of '75 - the last summer vacation my family ever took. Not because of some tragedy or anything, it was just that for some reason we were too poor after that to go anywhere but the lake. Or as my dad says, "We weren't poor, just broke." We might've even been too poor to have taken the trip we did, I just can't remember. My dad was sent by our mainstream Protestant church to check out the seminary in Louisville with the prospect that they would swap tuition for a committment to lead the congregation. Or something like that. I'm sketchy on that part. Anyway, we headed east in our 1972 Chevy Impala. It was my first time east of the Mississippi River and my first time to see 'big cities' like St. Louis and Evansville and Louisville. Yeah, I lost my urban virginity to St. Louis. OK, ok. I just wanted to say we listened to my sister's Rumours 8-track on an endless loop all across the Ohio Valley. I still have every song memorized. Nothing quite like listening to the line, "Won't you lay me down in the tall grass and let me do my stuff" with your parents in the car. They didn't say anything about it, though. That's also the trip where I found out - during a brief radio interlude - that Mrs. Robinson wasn't a Christian song ("Jesus loves you more than you will know").
And no, my dad didn't go to seminary. He joined the previously mentioned bad theology gang - The Fort Lauderdale Five.
Ok, the whole reason I brought any of that up was that after an email exchange with Adjective Queen about dreams I realized I don't remember any of my dreams. I would say I don't dream at all, but 'they' say that everyone dreams at about the same rate. So I don't know whether I'm really getting a good value out of my dreams because if I can't remember them, what good are they? Kind of a tree falling in the forest type thing.
Had a weird evening at The Self's annual Honor Society ceremony. Top 10% and all that. OK, this group of best and brightest had no actual, identifiable nerds in it. I mean no one looked like Bill Gates or Napoleon Dynamite or Eleanor Roosevelt. I just thought the top 1% should at least look nerdy. I'm afraid that rather than being actually smart, they're just rule followers. Sheep. I could tell this by the fact that after the ceremony about 60 kids sat perfectly still while their parents snapped photos and directed their poses. Not one of them acted silly, made a face, stuck fake ears behind someone's head, nothing. That's pretty sad.
Today, one of my co-workers answered a reference question and the caller was on a cell-phone and she actually heard him using the restroom and flushing the toilet. Ewww. Now that's multitasking! There's got to be a word for that. Hmmm, I wonder if I can get Sally Kern to make a law banning people from making a call while eliminating. I mean since she' s already solved all of the other problems in our state.
And no, my dad didn't go to seminary. He joined the previously mentioned bad theology gang - The Fort Lauderdale Five.
Ok, the whole reason I brought any of that up was that after an email exchange with Adjective Queen about dreams I realized I don't remember any of my dreams. I would say I don't dream at all, but 'they' say that everyone dreams at about the same rate. So I don't know whether I'm really getting a good value out of my dreams because if I can't remember them, what good are they? Kind of a tree falling in the forest type thing.
Had a weird evening at The Self's annual Honor Society ceremony. Top 10% and all that. OK, this group of best and brightest had no actual, identifiable nerds in it. I mean no one looked like Bill Gates or Napoleon Dynamite or Eleanor Roosevelt. I just thought the top 1% should at least look nerdy. I'm afraid that rather than being actually smart, they're just rule followers. Sheep. I could tell this by the fact that after the ceremony about 60 kids sat perfectly still while their parents snapped photos and directed their poses. Not one of them acted silly, made a face, stuck fake ears behind someone's head, nothing. That's pretty sad.
Today, one of my co-workers answered a reference question and the caller was on a cell-phone and she actually heard him using the restroom and flushing the toilet. Ewww. Now that's multitasking! There's got to be a word for that. Hmmm, I wonder if I can get Sally Kern to make a law banning people from making a call while eliminating. I mean since she' s already solved all of the other problems in our state.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Never Obliterating Children!
We have about a dozen boxes left from our recent move that have been sitting in the garage unopened for various reasons, mainly laziness. For the Killer it was like Christmas all over again because 95% of her Christmas presents were packed the day after Christmas. So she got to open the boxes and get her presents. I know, bad daddy, bad parent. So she's getting to bake cakes with her Easy Bake Oven.
One treat, though was my re-discovery of her Map of the World by Xi Angyu Toys from China. It's this heavy, hinged wooden board with the world map on it and holes drilled for the pups to properly adorn the appropriate land with little flags. The first thing you notice is the map is centered on China. I mean you think you wouldn't notice that, but you've seen the thing centered on us for so long you instantly notice it. But the real joy is in reading the box. First of all the thing is called Knowledge of the World. But then if you read the side here's what you get:
"Educate children's actual operation ability, and pass perception towards world map with identity. Increase the ability of their perception, and see the international community the geography diagram that distribute the empress, and let all national flags take the seat. Inspire to number their think the elephant space and increase the perception ability."
And the end flap:
"Give a happy childhood for never obliterating of children!"
And the other end flap:
"Solidify Peace"
Check out this place for some more like mine...
God, we went to Lakeshore Learning today so the Killer could do their free craft. She loves to get their 25 cent Lakeshore kids as well. I swear everytime I go in there homeschool kids are running amok. I don't care who I alienate. I see this everyday at work and anytime I go to Lakeshore or Mardel (which isn't often). YHWH has seen it at her work, too. They are the most socially maladjusted people in the world. Everything you read says that they are smarter but I say so what if they are going to act like apes. I really can't get started on this. It will get ugly.
One treat, though was my re-discovery of her Map of the World by Xi Angyu Toys from China. It's this heavy, hinged wooden board with the world map on it and holes drilled for the pups to properly adorn the appropriate land with little flags. The first thing you notice is the map is centered on China. I mean you think you wouldn't notice that, but you've seen the thing centered on us for so long you instantly notice it. But the real joy is in reading the box. First of all the thing is called Knowledge of the World. But then if you read the side here's what you get:
"Educate children's actual operation ability, and pass perception towards world map with identity. Increase the ability of their perception, and see the international community the geography diagram that distribute the empress, and let all national flags take the seat. Inspire to number their think the elephant space and increase the perception ability."
And the end flap:
"Give a happy childhood for never obliterating of children!"
And the other end flap:
"Solidify Peace"
Check out this place for some more like mine...
God, we went to Lakeshore Learning today so the Killer could do their free craft. She loves to get their 25 cent Lakeshore kids as well. I swear everytime I go in there homeschool kids are running amok. I don't care who I alienate. I see this everyday at work and anytime I go to Lakeshore or Mardel (which isn't often). YHWH has seen it at her work, too. They are the most socially maladjusted people in the world. Everything you read says that they are smarter but I say so what if they are going to act like apes. I really can't get started on this. It will get ugly.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Meine Kleine Madchen
OK, all the parenting books tell you how to talk to your kids about all these BIG ISSUES like the birds and the bees. They have a Berenstain Bears book for helping families deal with death, stranger danger, bullies, bedwetting, new siblings - I mean those poor little bears must be curled up quivering in some dark corner of a closet by now with all the trauma they've gone through. But there's one topic they never cover. I know; I've looked. Dr Dobson and Dr Phil don't cover it. And it's an uncomfortable topic that needs to be handled delicately; one of those you don't want to give implicit approval by ignoring it or make it attractive by coming down hard on it. True, it's not something EVERY parent has to deal with, but it's there. I'm talking about Hitler fascination.
Yes, SGK has been fascinated with him for years. In fact, she used to claim that he was her very mean ex-husband - but he never hurt her, he was just 'never around'. I couldn't even make this up. So, last night after we sang 'Jukebox Saturday Night' and 'Lamplighter's Serenade', I'm waiting on her to go to sleep and all of a sudden the dark quiet is pierced by:
SGK: "When I get to heaven will I get to talk to Hitler?"
ME: "What?! No, I doubt if he'll be up there waiting on you! Do you think he'll be there?"
SGK: "Yeah. I don't believe in the 'bad word place'. So, he has to be in heaven."
ME: "Well, what would you say to him."
SGK: "Just..I don't know. Have lunch with him and ask him why he did all that stuff."
ME: "Well, what do you think he would say?"
SGK: "I don't know. That's why I want to ask him."
ME: "Well...uh...I don't know. Your mom answers all the religion questions. She says I have bad theology."
This went on for a little bit and, I mean, it just blew me away because she went on to say that in her view Jesus died for us all and he forgave us all and why shouldn't that include Hitler? I mean, I didn't have an answer for that.
Wow, we ate at a really great new restaurant tonight. It's a real Mexican buffet, not Tex-Mex. It's called El Encanto - I know it sounds like the name of some Aztec spectre that attacks tourists who wonder off the main camino. But the food is great. It's Mexican home cooking, lots of potatoes and peppers and stew and about five very fresh salsas and guacamole. Very good stuff.
Man, today was another surreal one at the Last Public Place in America. By 11 AM we had a gaggle of bankers in the meeting rooms, two school groups touring through, an adult day care making their weekly visit and of course the usual suspects. And between stints amongst 'em I'm writing legal documents and policy statements and having a meeting to commit to several hours of writing assignments. By 3:00, seeing it all swirling seamlessly around me, it hit me that it was one of those days there where I marvel at just how amazing this place is. I mean museums, sports arenas and shopping malls have multitudes, but they're all there for the same purpose. But here it's unique to each individual. I really felt privileged to be there today.
Yes, SGK has been fascinated with him for years. In fact, she used to claim that he was her very mean ex-husband - but he never hurt her, he was just 'never around'. I couldn't even make this up. So, last night after we sang 'Jukebox Saturday Night' and 'Lamplighter's Serenade', I'm waiting on her to go to sleep and all of a sudden the dark quiet is pierced by:
SGK: "When I get to heaven will I get to talk to Hitler?"
ME: "What?! No, I doubt if he'll be up there waiting on you! Do you think he'll be there?"
SGK: "Yeah. I don't believe in the 'bad word place'. So, he has to be in heaven."
ME: "Well, what would you say to him."
SGK: "Just..I don't know. Have lunch with him and ask him why he did all that stuff."
ME: "Well, what do you think he would say?"
SGK: "I don't know. That's why I want to ask him."
ME: "Well...uh...I don't know. Your mom answers all the religion questions. She says I have bad theology."
This went on for a little bit and, I mean, it just blew me away because she went on to say that in her view Jesus died for us all and he forgave us all and why shouldn't that include Hitler? I mean, I didn't have an answer for that.
Wow, we ate at a really great new restaurant tonight. It's a real Mexican buffet, not Tex-Mex. It's called El Encanto - I know it sounds like the name of some Aztec spectre that attacks tourists who wonder off the main camino. But the food is great. It's Mexican home cooking, lots of potatoes and peppers and stew and about five very fresh salsas and guacamole. Very good stuff.
Man, today was another surreal one at the Last Public Place in America. By 11 AM we had a gaggle of bankers in the meeting rooms, two school groups touring through, an adult day care making their weekly visit and of course the usual suspects. And between stints amongst 'em I'm writing legal documents and policy statements and having a meeting to commit to several hours of writing assignments. By 3:00, seeing it all swirling seamlessly around me, it hit me that it was one of those days there where I marvel at just how amazing this place is. I mean museums, sports arenas and shopping malls have multitudes, but they're all there for the same purpose. But here it's unique to each individual. I really felt privileged to be there today.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Ooh La La
Super Giant Killer has been obsessed with France ever since her french grandmother died six months ago. She could tell you Marie Antoinette didn't really say, "Let them eat cake." She wears a plastic pouch with a saint card of Joan Arc dangling from a lanyard around her neck. She winces when she tells how Charlotte Cordray stabbed Marat in his bathtub. She can speak a handful of phrases. She even knows about the bourgeoisie and the Third Estate. She also knows that on December 3, 2007 she will be going to France for a month because our neighbor told her Paris has the best New Year's celebration in the world. She wants to get there early so she doesn't miss any of it. But this all has to stop. I've been letting her grieve in her own magnificent way but that ends today. Today she came in and said, "Dad, look at my new baby." Not something any father wants to hear but there are enough dolls around that I didn't panic, but this new kid is it; she's gone too far. Here is the bouncing baby boy...
My grandson, the Eiffel Tower.
Well the pax didn't hold for long upon our return. YHWH has been struggling to get through to the latest crop of frosh who she claims are greatest proponents of dullardry since her institution was founded. So I happened to see that the latest Time magazine cover story is about the multitasking generation. Generation M. It talked about how they do homework, IM, burn CDs, and Google their friends simultaneously. Asked how can these kids' brains do this multitasking, the nation's leading neuroscientist says, "They can't." It's not multitasking it's sequential processing. They're simply prioritizing tasks and performing them in a way that seems like multitasking. The result is that the more things you do at once the less quality of output. They're also being trained by their gadgets to think in ways that make the gadgets more efficient rather than the other way around. Apparently this isn't Luddite thinking or reactionary parent-talk; there's nearly a hundred year body of literature based on studying factory workers and soldiers, etc. So I start telling YHWH about this and in about the time it takes to IM a zit-stricken multitasker The Self starts slamming doors, crashing dishes, muttering loudly, crying, you name it, before stomping off with a final door smash. So it was a nice week while it lasted. Back to the old grindstone. My new grandson will NEVER be a multitasker! I swear on Marat's grave!
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
New grandchildren: 1
Cups of coffee: 2
Incense sticks burned: 3 (cedarwood, pine, Tibetan lotus)
Sinks unclogged: 1
Episodes of Sopranos watched: 1
Slices of pizza for lunch: 3
Comments on BananAppeal: 2
Shifts on desk: 2
My grandson, the Eiffel Tower.
Well the pax didn't hold for long upon our return. YHWH has been struggling to get through to the latest crop of frosh who she claims are greatest proponents of dullardry since her institution was founded. So I happened to see that the latest Time magazine cover story is about the multitasking generation. Generation M. It talked about how they do homework, IM, burn CDs, and Google their friends simultaneously. Asked how can these kids' brains do this multitasking, the nation's leading neuroscientist says, "They can't." It's not multitasking it's sequential processing. They're simply prioritizing tasks and performing them in a way that seems like multitasking. The result is that the more things you do at once the less quality of output. They're also being trained by their gadgets to think in ways that make the gadgets more efficient rather than the other way around. Apparently this isn't Luddite thinking or reactionary parent-talk; there's nearly a hundred year body of literature based on studying factory workers and soldiers, etc. So I start telling YHWH about this and in about the time it takes to IM a zit-stricken multitasker The Self starts slamming doors, crashing dishes, muttering loudly, crying, you name it, before stomping off with a final door smash. So it was a nice week while it lasted. Back to the old grindstone. My new grandson will NEVER be a multitasker! I swear on Marat's grave!
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
New grandchildren: 1
Cups of coffee: 2
Incense sticks burned: 3 (cedarwood, pine, Tibetan lotus)
Sinks unclogged: 1
Episodes of Sopranos watched: 1
Slices of pizza for lunch: 3
Comments on BananAppeal: 2
Shifts on desk: 2
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Don't Sleep in the Subway, Darlin'
Oh. My. God. It is m-fing raining in Oklahoma City. I was sure Sally Kern, et al. had brought the wrath of God down on us for embarrassing him so much, but it looks like he's merciful after all. All last week the entire nation was drenched except for a umbrella which prevented moisture from reaching Kans., Okla. and Tex.
We finally got home about 9:30 last night. I cannot tell you how good the kids were. They actually acted like sisters for about 2 hours in the car. Had some good talks on the final stretch about life and goals and things, so that was good.
We made it as far as Little Rock Thursday and on Friday we visited the Central High School National Historic Site and were very impressed. I actually bought merch there, which I never do. Killer got another Jr. Ranger badge. I was a little disappointed that they didn't really go into the legal issues involved in sending Federal troops to force a state to do something (by gawd). Man, the Little Rock Nine, as James Whitmore said, "The fight they put up...one for the book!" Then we went to the Clinton Presidential Center store - I am not paying $24.00 to visit the actual center. That's not an opinion of Clinton or anything, it's just, jeez, $24.00?
Ummm after work I'm going to the Chinese store to get some instant coffee. They have this Vietnamese instant coffee mix which is to die for called Vinacafe. Better than Starbucks. Did you know Vietnam is 2nd on the coffee exporting country list? So, yeah, I'm propping up yet another Communist regime.
We finally got home about 9:30 last night. I cannot tell you how good the kids were. They actually acted like sisters for about 2 hours in the car. Had some good talks on the final stretch about life and goals and things, so that was good.
We made it as far as Little Rock Thursday and on Friday we visited the Central High School National Historic Site and were very impressed. I actually bought merch there, which I never do. Killer got another Jr. Ranger badge. I was a little disappointed that they didn't really go into the legal issues involved in sending Federal troops to force a state to do something (by gawd). Man, the Little Rock Nine, as James Whitmore said, "The fight they put up...one for the book!" Then we went to the Clinton Presidential Center store - I am not paying $24.00 to visit the actual center. That's not an opinion of Clinton or anything, it's just, jeez, $24.00?
Ummm after work I'm going to the Chinese store to get some instant coffee. They have this Vietnamese instant coffee mix which is to die for called Vinacafe. Better than Starbucks. Did you know Vietnam is 2nd on the coffee exporting country list? So, yeah, I'm propping up yet another Communist regime.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Chagganooda Choo Choo
Both young'ns continue to astound. We've gone the whole trip without any flareups. I never thought The Killer could go 9 hours in the car without being a brat, but she hasn't caused a bit of trouble. And the Self hasn't succumbed to any urges to wear headphones and be sullen or making typically-teen sarcastic remarks about things. I realized, though, that I must be the problem with The Self and it presents me with a kind of conundrum. There have been a few times where I have felt a strong urge to 'let her have it', but I've backed off and just let little things go for the sake of peace. That definitely works. But, do I do a disservice to let everything go all the time? It's probably a moot point because there's no way I can keep my mouth shut for an extended period.
We had lots of fun today. We spent the night in Chattanooga, Tenn. Or Chagganooda, as SGK calls it. I decided to go down that way instead of down I-40 because a) that is the most horrid drive ever, I-40 down the length of the longest state in the Union and b) the girls could pick up Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi to their states visited totals. And Chatt is the site of one of my favorite CW battles, so I was interested in seeing the lay of the land. Anway we took our time and went up on Lookout Mtn and toured the kitschy-cool Rock City as well as the Battles for Chattanooga animated diorama. Then we headed for Alabama and went to a really hokie National Park site called Russell Cave. SGK picked up her third Jr. Ranger badge and the rangers were uncomfortably nice. Sometimes people are so nice I feel sorry for them and trip over myself to be just as nice. Sick, I know. Then in Scottsboro, AL we struck upon the Unclaimed Baggage Center. It's this bizarre 40,000 sq ft warehouse where all the luggage airlines and trains, etc. lose go to die. It was so cool. I picked up a matching set of ceramic mugs from Peru that some poor couple named Danny and Linda lost. The girls got lots of clothes and SGK got some coloring books from Poland and France. I found myself insanely jealous because I am a big time voyeur (not that way, guttermind!) and I desperately want the job of opening all of those suitcases. In retirement I'm going to work in a photo developing place if digital cameras haven't killed them off. Anyway, we ended up the day in Little Rock. Be home on the morrow. The Killer is going to miss our nightly baggage truck races at the hotels.
Oh! I almost forgot. Myrna ran away at Rock City. We miss her dearly. Probably she'll end up at the Unclaimed Baggage Center.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Cups of coffee: 3
Cinnamon rolls: 2
States visited: 5
States viewed from atop Lookout Mtn: 7
Spent on kitsch: $60 (uh, yeah, I know)
Items SGK could remember during shopping game: 13
Items I could remember: 12
We had lots of fun today. We spent the night in Chattanooga, Tenn. Or Chagganooda, as SGK calls it. I decided to go down that way instead of down I-40 because a) that is the most horrid drive ever, I-40 down the length of the longest state in the Union and b) the girls could pick up Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi to their states visited totals. And Chatt is the site of one of my favorite CW battles, so I was interested in seeing the lay of the land. Anway we took our time and went up on Lookout Mtn and toured the kitschy-cool Rock City as well as the Battles for Chattanooga animated diorama. Then we headed for Alabama and went to a really hokie National Park site called Russell Cave. SGK picked up her third Jr. Ranger badge and the rangers were uncomfortably nice. Sometimes people are so nice I feel sorry for them and trip over myself to be just as nice. Sick, I know. Then in Scottsboro, AL we struck upon the Unclaimed Baggage Center. It's this bizarre 40,000 sq ft warehouse where all the luggage airlines and trains, etc. lose go to die. It was so cool. I picked up a matching set of ceramic mugs from Peru that some poor couple named Danny and Linda lost. The girls got lots of clothes and SGK got some coloring books from Poland and France. I found myself insanely jealous because I am a big time voyeur (not that way, guttermind!) and I desperately want the job of opening all of those suitcases. In retirement I'm going to work in a photo developing place if digital cameras haven't killed them off. Anyway, we ended up the day in Little Rock. Be home on the morrow. The Killer is going to miss our nightly baggage truck races at the hotels.
Oh! I almost forgot. Myrna ran away at Rock City. We miss her dearly. Probably she'll end up at the Unclaimed Baggage Center.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Cups of coffee: 3
Cinnamon rolls: 2
States visited: 5
States viewed from atop Lookout Mtn: 7
Spent on kitsch: $60 (uh, yeah, I know)
Items SGK could remember during shopping game: 13
Items I could remember: 12
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Do You Think It Will Ever End?
Man, Super Giant Killer was just that today. We got onto the mall mid-morning and went to the Smithsonian/American History (she and I) while YHWH and The Self went to Holocaust. We first went to the first ladies exhibit and SGK read every plaque and looked at every inaugural gown. She kept graviating to Mamie Eisenhower for whatever reason. Then we went to the Americans at War exhibit and she spent 2.5 hours in there looking at everything and asking questions. When we came out of the Civil War section she said, "Why do Americans win every war?" and I just said they don't always. She was silent awhile and then in the middle of WWI she goes, "I hope we win Iraq...do you think it will ever end?" Later when we got to WWII she soid, "Why was Hitler so greedy. He could've just kept France. He was way off the charts!" YHWH joined us for Natural History and she did the same thing; looked at the exhibits for hours. She was in the gems section for a whole hour. Finally, YHWH said, "Are you getting bored SGK? Do you want to go over to the art museum?"SGK scoffs and says, "Gaw! I'm not as obsessed with art as you are, mom!" We closed that one down. She spent 6.5 hours in both museums and was begging for more when they closed. Scary.
Gift shop purchases:
Smithsonian travel coffee mug
5" Replica original teddy bear
Teddy Roosevelt and family paper dolls
Bag of gemstones
Handcrafted mini chimpanzee from Germany
Presidential portraits ruler
Had some fine pizza tonight from Armand's deepdish. Really good stuff. By the way I'm using a MAC to do this, so I'm sorry about all the weird formatting and typos. It's really hard yo use and the s sticks. But who's complaining.
TODAY BY NUMBERS
Cats I'm currently cohabitating with: 3
Cups of coffee: 2
Price of ham & cheese sandwich: 7.95
Miles walked: 2
Slices of Pizza eaten: 4
Hours car keys lay on the ground next to the car door: 9
Metro rides: 2
Gift shop purchases:
Smithsonian travel coffee mug
5" Replica original teddy bear
Teddy Roosevelt and family paper dolls
Bag of gemstones
Handcrafted mini chimpanzee from Germany
Presidential portraits ruler
Had some fine pizza tonight from Armand's deepdish. Really good stuff. By the way I'm using a MAC to do this, so I'm sorry about all the weird formatting and typos. It's really hard yo use and the s sticks. But who's complaining.
TODAY BY NUMBERS
Cats I'm currently cohabitating with: 3
Cups of coffee: 2
Price of ham & cheese sandwich: 7.95
Miles walked: 2
Slices of Pizza eaten: 4
Hours car keys lay on the ground next to the car door: 9
Metro rides: 2
Monday, March 13, 2006
Fortress America
Greetings from Fortress America. You have to add an hour to go anywhere in this town now. You're searched at every building you enter - apparently my belt buckle is made of some delicious metal that detectors love to feast on - and thus you have to wait in line for an hour for even the most boring of venues and get half undressed. On top of that there are big highway barrier things strewn everywhere and lots of orange flexible fencing. It's really sad. Like a national anxiety attack. As George Hanson said, "This used to be one hell of a country."
We just got back from our first jaunt into the District. Super Giant Killer was amazing. She went from 10am to 5pm and saw the Lincoln, the Wsahington, Korea, Vietnam, WWII, Albert Einstein, Library of Congress, and the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. OK, her fave was the Metro. She wanted to ride it all day. The only place she wanted any souvenirs was at the Shrine. She got a St Joan of Arc medal, a Mother Cabrini medal and a magnetic glow-in-the-dark Our Lady of Lourdes statue. She was a real trooper. The Self caught a ride into town with our host and we ate lunch outside LC about 2:00 and then she left with the host about 3.
Myrna was a mess. Let me be the first to tell you prairie dogs have an atrocious sense of patriotism. So far she has been seen on top of FDR's hat, climbing the Washington Monument and sniffing Lincoln's piggy that stayed home.
Sorry, don't have a USB port to upload pix. Later, though. Poor prep on my part I admit.
Unfortunately, no cinnamon rolls today. In fact last night YHWH was grousing about that very fact and is contemplating leaving a day early just so we can get back to a Holiday Inn Express. They are deadly good I assure you. Ooh, last night we went to a Mexican restaurant here. Believe, me they don't know Mexican here. And after we had this great ice cream from York Ice Cream. A Jamaican family runs it and I had a double dip of rum raisin and Guiness. Really good. I'm having a double dip of Ganja and Jerked Chicken in a cone tonight. Actually, I'm probably having a burrito at 7-11 because everyone else is going to eat Ethiopian food, which I thought was an oxymoron.
Tomorrow is museum day. Hopefully SGK's stamina will hold up.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Miles walked: 4.5
Metro rides: 4
Pennies spent on transport: 2,250
Hours waiting to be searched: 2.5
National Park passport stamps: 18
Cinnamon rolls: 0
Cups of coffee: 0
Oz. in SGK's bottle of water: 48
We just got back from our first jaunt into the District. Super Giant Killer was amazing. She went from 10am to 5pm and saw the Lincoln, the Wsahington, Korea, Vietnam, WWII, Albert Einstein, Library of Congress, and the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. OK, her fave was the Metro. She wanted to ride it all day. The only place she wanted any souvenirs was at the Shrine. She got a St Joan of Arc medal, a Mother Cabrini medal and a magnetic glow-in-the-dark Our Lady of Lourdes statue. She was a real trooper. The Self caught a ride into town with our host and we ate lunch outside LC about 2:00 and then she left with the host about 3.
Myrna was a mess. Let me be the first to tell you prairie dogs have an atrocious sense of patriotism. So far she has been seen on top of FDR's hat, climbing the Washington Monument and sniffing Lincoln's piggy that stayed home.
Sorry, don't have a USB port to upload pix. Later, though. Poor prep on my part I admit.
Unfortunately, no cinnamon rolls today. In fact last night YHWH was grousing about that very fact and is contemplating leaving a day early just so we can get back to a Holiday Inn Express. They are deadly good I assure you. Ooh, last night we went to a Mexican restaurant here. Believe, me they don't know Mexican here. And after we had this great ice cream from York Ice Cream. A Jamaican family runs it and I had a double dip of rum raisin and Guiness. Really good. I'm having a double dip of Ganja and Jerked Chicken in a cone tonight. Actually, I'm probably having a burrito at 7-11 because everyone else is going to eat Ethiopian food, which I thought was an oxymoron.
Tomorrow is museum day. Hopefully SGK's stamina will hold up.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Miles walked: 4.5
Metro rides: 4
Pennies spent on transport: 2,250
Hours waiting to be searched: 2.5
National Park passport stamps: 18
Cinnamon rolls: 0
Cups of coffee: 0
Oz. in SGK's bottle of water: 48
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Stay Smart
Hey, we're not doin' too bad! No flareups or anything. Mainly been dodging storm cells, but have been doing that quite well. Had to call Genie for a weather checkup around Evansville, IN.
Upon arrival in St. Loo this AM, Super Giant Killer declared it was the best city she'd ever been in and said she was going to call it 'Heavenly City'. She got to become a Junior Ranger with a badge. We also picked up our trip mascot. She's a stuffed rodent the girls have dubbed Myrna. She's been seen at the Arch, Abe Lincoln's Boyhood Home, and Skyline Chili in Louisville. It's about 11:30 PM in Charleston, WV. We're having a great time listening to XM Radio and singing along to old pop tunes. We're having such a great time I'm already getting depressed because 'it'll never be this great again'. No, you're right; I can never be happy.
The hardest thing is we've had to leave behind Quik Trip. They don't have them in this part of the country and we have all gotten addicted to their mind-blowing array of beverages. YHWH has concocted a 32 oz thing made of orange slush and steamed milk. We have become obsessed with Holiday Inn Express' cinnamon rolls, though.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Mascots selected: 1
Hours driven by me: 9
Hours driven by YHWH: .75
Beef sticks eaten: 2
Cups of coffee: 4 (eek)
States visited: 5
Miles driven: 591
Upon arrival in St. Loo this AM, Super Giant Killer declared it was the best city she'd ever been in and said she was going to call it 'Heavenly City'. She got to become a Junior Ranger with a badge. We also picked up our trip mascot. She's a stuffed rodent the girls have dubbed Myrna. She's been seen at the Arch, Abe Lincoln's Boyhood Home, and Skyline Chili in Louisville. It's about 11:30 PM in Charleston, WV. We're having a great time listening to XM Radio and singing along to old pop tunes. We're having such a great time I'm already getting depressed because 'it'll never be this great again'. No, you're right; I can never be happy.
The hardest thing is we've had to leave behind Quik Trip. They don't have them in this part of the country and we have all gotten addicted to their mind-blowing array of beverages. YHWH has concocted a 32 oz thing made of orange slush and steamed milk. We have become obsessed with Holiday Inn Express' cinnamon rolls, though.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Mascots selected: 1
Hours driven by me: 9
Hours driven by YHWH: .75
Beef sticks eaten: 2
Cups of coffee: 4 (eek)
States visited: 5
Miles driven: 591
Friday, March 10, 2006
Tiny Bubbles
It'll be interesting to see if the trip goes off as planned. First of all, The Self stayed home sick from school today. Probably allergies, but if I were the one spitting up green stuff, there is no way I would look forward to sitting in a car for 20 hours. We'll see how it goes. There's also a nice line of thunderstorms curiously placed directly over the route we'll be taking. I don't mean interesecting our route; I mean if you looked at the weather map you'd think it was a road map and confuse the squall line as the route from here to Washington. See, there's a God.
Does it happen to you that there are people you just don't like and then when you think about it, you realize you have never liked anybody with that name. Mine is Eric - and Danny. Last night I was reading a book which I'm not liking and finally I just said, "I really hate this book! Who in hell wrote it!" His name was Eric. And then it just hit me. I have never met an Eric I liked. In fact, one Eric from my childhood is in prison in a western state for molesting his own kids. Another one that lives in Edmond stalked one of my best friends and harrased them so much they had to change their phone number and consider moving. Eric Idle is my least favorite Python. I liked Beth Heiden more than Eric Heiden. I even like Cnut the Dane more than Erik the Red. And the movie Erik the Viking had Tim Robbins in it. I mean I've been at it all day and I still can't think of an Eric I like. A few I don't dislike, such as Eric Blore, but none I like.
Got to go to Sonic with Genie today. That was fun.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Jr. Burgers eaten: 2
Solo desk shifts: 1
Miles walked: 0
Maps printed: 11
Smiles: 0
Buick LeSabres rented from Overcoat: 1
Lost children of Puerto Rican mothers found: 1
Does it happen to you that there are people you just don't like and then when you think about it, you realize you have never liked anybody with that name. Mine is Eric - and Danny. Last night I was reading a book which I'm not liking and finally I just said, "I really hate this book! Who in hell wrote it!" His name was Eric. And then it just hit me. I have never met an Eric I liked. In fact, one Eric from my childhood is in prison in a western state for molesting his own kids. Another one that lives in Edmond stalked one of my best friends and harrased them so much they had to change their phone number and consider moving. Eric Idle is my least favorite Python. I liked Beth Heiden more than Eric Heiden. I even like Cnut the Dane more than Erik the Red. And the movie Erik the Viking had Tim Robbins in it. I mean I've been at it all day and I still can't think of an Eric I like. A few I don't dislike, such as Eric Blore, but none I like.
Got to go to Sonic with Genie today. That was fun.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Jr. Burgers eaten: 2
Solo desk shifts: 1
Miles walked: 0
Maps printed: 11
Smiles: 0
Buick LeSabres rented from Overcoat: 1
Lost children of Puerto Rican mothers found: 1
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Under the Bridge
So my friend who talked me into this, let's use the name Shoeless Wonder (spouse of Overcoat), is considering doing the same. You must! It'll be really fun!
Here's a chronological list of my current friends; codename followed by years I've known them:
Drew Barrymore, 30
Genie, 21
Ed Ed, 20
Shoeless Wonder, 16
Overcoat, 15
Janka, 14
Bucky, 13
My God, there is no way I could have known those people that long. I feel like I just met Shoeless and Overcoat last week! Oops, I did say Shoeless was my 3rd oldest friend , but once I ranked them, I realize I should've said 4th. Get used to it - I could reduce the entire world to a series of lists, rankings and ratings.
I've got a weird one for you. This will involve some whining, so bear with me. Anyway, a couple of weeks ago it was birthday and no, my original family did not bestow any gifts on me (even though it was a landmark one) or even offer to have a party. Well, anyway my dad did call about 7:00pm and said he was sorry he couldn't be there for my birthday. I lied that it was OK and listened to him tell a story of his health and then I said, "So you all have a big weekend planned, eh?"Answer: "Oh no, just sitting around, not much to do." Yeah, real sorry you couldn't be there, huh? Well anyway, I had to whine first, but the health thing he told me about was weird. Have you heard about these guys in NY who faked death certificates and who knows what else and sold body parts to reputable parts dealers, who in turn sold them to surgeons to use in patients? Well my dad's third vertebra once belonged to someone famous. Yeah, he got this call from the CDC who told him the whole story and he had to go in for some tests to see if he was clear of any diseases the original owner may have had (he was fine). I'm not sure if I should say whose vertebra he got; I mean it's a little insensitive to the family. What the hell. It was Alistair Cooke. The Masterpiece Theater guy. Go to wikipedia and read about him - and don't forget to read the 'Macabre Addendum' at the end. Scary, folks.
Super Giant Killer scored big on new comics day: Justice League Unlimited, The Batman Strikes and Hi Hi Puffy Ami Yummi. For me: Lost Squad and Team Zero.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Miles walked: 1.5
Grant projects worked on: 2
E-mails from boss: 3
E-mails from Shoeless Wonder: 4
E-Mails from Overcoat: 1
Hairy situations at work: 2
Flare-ups with The Self: 1
Spousal spats: 2
Rows of Om Yoga Mat Bag knitted: 3
Smiles: 0
Songs sung to SGK at bedtime: 2 ('Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots' and 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square')
Here's a chronological list of my current friends; codename followed by years I've known them:
Drew Barrymore, 30
Genie, 21
Ed Ed, 20
Shoeless Wonder, 16
Overcoat, 15
Janka, 14
Bucky, 13
My God, there is no way I could have known those people that long. I feel like I just met Shoeless and Overcoat last week! Oops, I did say Shoeless was my 3rd oldest friend , but once I ranked them, I realize I should've said 4th. Get used to it - I could reduce the entire world to a series of lists, rankings and ratings.
I've got a weird one for you. This will involve some whining, so bear with me. Anyway, a couple of weeks ago it was birthday and no, my original family did not bestow any gifts on me (even though it was a landmark one) or even offer to have a party. Well, anyway my dad did call about 7:00pm and said he was sorry he couldn't be there for my birthday. I lied that it was OK and listened to him tell a story of his health and then I said, "So you all have a big weekend planned, eh?"Answer: "Oh no, just sitting around, not much to do." Yeah, real sorry you couldn't be there, huh? Well anyway, I had to whine first, but the health thing he told me about was weird. Have you heard about these guys in NY who faked death certificates and who knows what else and sold body parts to reputable parts dealers, who in turn sold them to surgeons to use in patients? Well my dad's third vertebra once belonged to someone famous. Yeah, he got this call from the CDC who told him the whole story and he had to go in for some tests to see if he was clear of any diseases the original owner may have had (he was fine). I'm not sure if I should say whose vertebra he got; I mean it's a little insensitive to the family. What the hell. It was Alistair Cooke. The Masterpiece Theater guy. Go to wikipedia and read about him - and don't forget to read the 'Macabre Addendum' at the end. Scary, folks.
Super Giant Killer scored big on new comics day: Justice League Unlimited, The Batman Strikes and Hi Hi Puffy Ami Yummi. For me: Lost Squad and Team Zero.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Miles walked: 1.5
Grant projects worked on: 2
E-mails from boss: 3
E-mails from Shoeless Wonder: 4
E-Mails from Overcoat: 1
Hairy situations at work: 2
Flare-ups with The Self: 1
Spousal spats: 2
Rows of Om Yoga Mat Bag knitted: 3
Smiles: 0
Songs sung to SGK at bedtime: 2 ('Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots' and 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square')
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
A Godly Hero
Pretty excited. "A Godly Hero" the new biography of Wm Jennings Bryan came in on reserve. I'm interested to see what the current revision is on him especially since evolution has inexplicably resurfaced as an issue. Sadly his part in the Scopes Monkey Trial is about all he's known for these days. I maybe woulda been a Bryanista had I been kickin it in the 1880s or so. Which reminds me...I wish all these current politicos and neo-cons in power would quit citing Ronald Reagan as their single greatest influence. I thought he was against big government. And he wasn't afraid of terrorists.
Well, planning for the big spring break trip. Yep - takin' the tribe cross country. My god, we can't go 15 minutes at home without some blindsiding emotional explosion and I'm actually entering a vehicle with three fizzing powderkegs. I can already see me acting out the role of Yosemite Sam in nearly every cartoon he was in, desperately trying to disrupt the gunpowder trail maliciously spilled by Bugs Bunny. Watch this space for video of me dressed as a pirate running around a ship with a cask of gunpowder stuck in the back of my pants while sparks chase after me; will I jump into the shark-infested waters or explode!? Remember in Saving Private Ryan when Capt. Miller teaches the whippersnappers to make stickybombs from old socks and motor oil or whatever but he tells them how unstable they are? Sometimes stuff happens and I get this quick visual image of the later scene where those two anonymous soldiers from Matt Damon's platoon run up to a tank and put stickybombs on it and before they can run away the bombs go off and they are instantly obliterated. And the tank rumbles on. Like the other day I was feeling worse than usual about the Cold War raging between me and The Self. I've been pretty much toeing the can't-say-something-nice-don't-say-anything-at-all-line which means I rarely say anything and so I decide on the way home from work that I'm going to be upbeat and chipper - y'know treat her like a stranger. Cause I really hate that it has to be this way with us. So I decide to give in, y'know let her 'win' essentially, and anyway I walk in the house and she's talking to YHWH and I say with great ebullience, "Hey! Good to see ya!" and pat her on the back (the pat was the metaphorical stickybomb (see how I bring it around?)) and she explodes: What was that? What did I do to deserve that? Did you have a bad day or something and want to take it out on me? I was trying to be upbeat, nice, I say. And so it went for 15 minutes with an eventual return to detente. More of a Grenada or a 1965 Domincan Republic sort of deal, really. It's not like it was Korea or the Cuban Missile Crisis. But, yeah, I'm entering into a mobile emotional cauldron for a couple of 12 hour stretches. Hopefully it will be in a 2006 Buick Lucrene with XM Radio and a little GPS action. We're renting.
How can people dispute there's a God? I had 15 minutes to walk over to Quiznos and get some dinner then move my car before my shift started. I walk ten steps from the door of my building and it starts a torrential downpour. I run at near embarassing speeds, skittering on slippery street grates and oily back alleys praying for a stretch of road with an eave overhead, and finally make it into Quiznos where I'm met with the obligatory, "Is it raining outside?" The whole time I'm inside it stops raining and then picks up again when I'm halfway to the garage. And they say there's no God...
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Miles walked: 0 (hey I had a schedule change at work!)
Cups of coffee: 2
Rows of Om Yoga Bag knitted: 8
Stitches of Om Yoga Bag knitted: 640
Episodes of Desperate Housewives viewed: 4
Desk shifts: 3
Smiles: 1 (I was on the phone, though)
Phone calls from The Self: 1
Emails from boss: 0
Genealogy questions answered: 3
History questions answered:2
Well, planning for the big spring break trip. Yep - takin' the tribe cross country. My god, we can't go 15 minutes at home without some blindsiding emotional explosion and I'm actually entering a vehicle with three fizzing powderkegs. I can already see me acting out the role of Yosemite Sam in nearly every cartoon he was in, desperately trying to disrupt the gunpowder trail maliciously spilled by Bugs Bunny. Watch this space for video of me dressed as a pirate running around a ship with a cask of gunpowder stuck in the back of my pants while sparks chase after me; will I jump into the shark-infested waters or explode!? Remember in Saving Private Ryan when Capt. Miller teaches the whippersnappers to make stickybombs from old socks and motor oil or whatever but he tells them how unstable they are? Sometimes stuff happens and I get this quick visual image of the later scene where those two anonymous soldiers from Matt Damon's platoon run up to a tank and put stickybombs on it and before they can run away the bombs go off and they are instantly obliterated. And the tank rumbles on. Like the other day I was feeling worse than usual about the Cold War raging between me and The Self. I've been pretty much toeing the can't-say-something-nice-don't-say-anything-at-all-line which means I rarely say anything and so I decide on the way home from work that I'm going to be upbeat and chipper - y'know treat her like a stranger. Cause I really hate that it has to be this way with us. So I decide to give in, y'know let her 'win' essentially, and anyway I walk in the house and she's talking to YHWH and I say with great ebullience, "Hey! Good to see ya!" and pat her on the back (the pat was the metaphorical stickybomb (see how I bring it around?)) and she explodes: What was that? What did I do to deserve that? Did you have a bad day or something and want to take it out on me? I was trying to be upbeat, nice, I say. And so it went for 15 minutes with an eventual return to detente. More of a Grenada or a 1965 Domincan Republic sort of deal, really. It's not like it was Korea or the Cuban Missile Crisis. But, yeah, I'm entering into a mobile emotional cauldron for a couple of 12 hour stretches. Hopefully it will be in a 2006 Buick Lucrene with XM Radio and a little GPS action. We're renting.
How can people dispute there's a God? I had 15 minutes to walk over to Quiznos and get some dinner then move my car before my shift started. I walk ten steps from the door of my building and it starts a torrential downpour. I run at near embarassing speeds, skittering on slippery street grates and oily back alleys praying for a stretch of road with an eave overhead, and finally make it into Quiznos where I'm met with the obligatory, "Is it raining outside?" The whole time I'm inside it stops raining and then picks up again when I'm halfway to the garage. And they say there's no God...
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Miles walked: 0 (hey I had a schedule change at work!)
Cups of coffee: 2
Rows of Om Yoga Bag knitted: 8
Stitches of Om Yoga Bag knitted: 640
Episodes of Desperate Housewives viewed: 4
Desk shifts: 3
Smiles: 1 (I was on the phone, though)
Phone calls from The Self: 1
Emails from boss: 0
Genealogy questions answered: 3
History questions answered:2
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Another Thing I Said I'd Never Do
So my third-oldest and -dearest friend told me to create a blog. It's the first time I've ever done anything she said. But she did work at some sort of clerical post for the American Psychological Association in DC during the Gulf War, so I'm intimidated enough by her credentials to follow her advice.
I'm not really going to describe myself or categorize my life - you, dear reader, either already know me or you can figure it out for yourself if we both stick with this thing. I'm betting I get bored with it in about 32 days. I will say I have two young'ns and a spouse and for the sake of privacy, I'll call the youngest by one of the gajillion nicknames bestowed by me: Super Giant Killer or SGK and the eldest I'll probably use my most frequently bestowed moniker: The Self, but maybe Cheez Whiz or CC. And the other person on my wedding certificate will be known, as has been the case for *gosh* ten wonderful years now: YHWH.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Miles walked: 2.25
Minutes waiting in front of school to pick up Self: 40
Levels of Wild Metal Country completed: 1
Songs sung to SGK at bedtime: 2 ('Georgy Girl' and 'Memphis in June')
Hours in service to the County: 8.5
Blogs initiated: 1
Obituaries of 44 year-olds read: 3
Incense sticks burned: 3 (Tibetan Lotus, black cherry, Nag Champa)
Cups of coffee: 2
Smiles offered: 1 (sort of - it was more one of those mouth-movements you do in lieu of an actual verbal acknowledgement which I gave to a woman in the parking garage elevator)
E-mails from boss: 4
I'm not really going to describe myself or categorize my life - you, dear reader, either already know me or you can figure it out for yourself if we both stick with this thing. I'm betting I get bored with it in about 32 days. I will say I have two young'ns and a spouse and for the sake of privacy, I'll call the youngest by one of the gajillion nicknames bestowed by me: Super Giant Killer or SGK and the eldest I'll probably use my most frequently bestowed moniker: The Self, but maybe Cheez Whiz or CC. And the other person on my wedding certificate will be known, as has been the case for *gosh* ten wonderful years now: YHWH.
TODAY BY THE NUMBERS
Miles walked: 2.25
Minutes waiting in front of school to pick up Self: 40
Levels of Wild Metal Country completed: 1
Songs sung to SGK at bedtime: 2 ('Georgy Girl' and 'Memphis in June')
Hours in service to the County: 8.5
Blogs initiated: 1
Obituaries of 44 year-olds read: 3
Incense sticks burned: 3 (Tibetan Lotus, black cherry, Nag Champa)
Cups of coffee: 2
Smiles offered: 1 (sort of - it was more one of those mouth-movements you do in lieu of an actual verbal acknowledgement which I gave to a woman in the parking garage elevator)
E-mails from boss: 4
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