the braces are about to come off after 4 1/2 years (what can i say? i haven't exactly been in a hurry), and tomorrow's my first visit with a periodontist to figure out if i'm getting an implant next, or if i'll wind up the proud owner of a maryland bridge.
unfortunately, i am having a rather hard time with a mundane task- filling out the preliminary questionnaire.
normally, these things are so general and boring that i have no problem regurgitating the usual stock answers.
unfortunately, I was unable to stop myself from answering "spouse's name" with "i am way too young for that"....though i am pleased to report that i refrained from putting down my first response, which was "first, i've got to convince val kilmer to return my calls".
somehow, not only my name is listed after "person responsible for account", but also "(unless i have a rich uncle no one has told me about)"
(they brought it upon themselves, giving me a blank line that stretched all the way across the page. it's like pointing keith haring at a blank wall in a subway and then leaving him there with an unattended can of paint.)
thus far, i have not answered "have you ever been instructed in caring for your gums?" with "i skipped the day we covered that in class", though "only in heavy traffic" has mysteriously appeared next to "do you habitually clench your teeth during the day or night?" and i had to explain that i checked "yes" next to "do you have to go to the restroom more than six times each day?", because i don't really keep count, but if i'm on a green tea kick, i'm wearing tracks in the carpet by 2 am. (i think that's why they say it boosts metabolism- look at all that extra exercise!)
if this guy dosn't have a sense of humor, i may be meeting with my hunky orthodontist's second recommendation next week.......
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
on the road again..blah blah something rhyming with "again"
greetings from baltimore!
(actually, i'm about half an hour or so away, but i figure it's close enough to call it.)
i've road-tripped up here this weekend to see my sibling and attend some of the edgar allan poe bicentennial festivities. john astin will be making an appearance (he's doing a tribute to poe", and i'm wondering if he'll kiss my arm if i say something to him in french.
i took a lot of notes during the trip up, thinking i could use them for a post, but
a. i'm too lazy to go outside and grab the notepad out of my car and
b. since i scribbled while driving, i'm not sure i could read my semi-legible chicken scratch anyway.
so, here's what i recall:
10:10 am: after two trips back inside my apartment, it appears that i've thrown everything i need into my car and i can finally leave. unfortunately, i've also determined during the two trips back inside that pepto-bismol will be riding shotgun today. on the bright side, this could provide invaluable information to other travelers regarding the number of rest areas along I-95.
10:35 am: after visiting two banks (the bosses' and my own), i am finally heading out on the highway. (unfortunately, "born to be wild" is not on my ipod, so i'm settling for "don't worry, be happy" instead.
10:40 am: i'm doing 80 in the passing lane, and this black mustang is practically in my backseat. i finish passing the 18-wheeler on my right, and mutter something under my breath about hoping the speed demon gets pulled.
10:55 am: pass my first cop. the speed demon got pulled.
11:10 am: pass my second through fourth cops. they've pulled over an suv, and it looks like they're dismantling it. can't decide whether they're looking for drugs, illegal aliens, or weapons of mass destruction.
11:15 am: merge onto I-95 from I-20. resolve to count the number of south of the border billboards between here and the border. unfortunately, this is my most quickly broken resolution ever, as five minutes later, i miss a few while counting cops 5-7, who are pulled over with two suvs. there does not appear to have been an accident, and neither of the suvs are being dismantled, and while i pondered this, i probably missed a couple more signs. drat.
11:50ish am: pass south of the border. were i not already running a little late, i'd stop and take pictures with the gnomes.
12:30-3:30 pm: drive to richmond. pass a couple more cops, including one who pulled a car over just past the turnoff for a rest area. (so much for the "sorry, officer, but i really have to pee" excuse....)
stop three times at rest areas and once for gas. observe that there's a sign on the back of the gas station restroom door that offers a free drink if the bathroom's dirty. the bathroom is actually fairly clean, though i'm mildly concerned about the lack of privacy, as there are no walls separating the two toilets from each other or the sink area. also, it seems that the throne i've selected doubles as a thrill ride. you know those little caps that cover the bolts at the base of the toilet? they're missing....as are the bolts. that should be good for a free drink or bag of sunchips or something......
3:30 pm: arrive in richmond. follow mapquest's directions to a spot near (because mapquest doesn't always deliver you to the front door) the maggie l. walker national historic site. i'm thrilled, because only one u-turn was involved.
3:30-4:30 pm: after the informative 11-minute video, tour the exhibits and mrs. walker's home. hers is a real "rags to riches" story- freeborn daughter of a former slave and an irishman (by the way, they couldn't marry, because interracial marriages were illegal in virginia at the time) graduates from high school at 16, marries at 19, becomes the first woman to found a chartered bank, as well as the oldest bank continuously run by african americans, becomes wealthy enough to not only own her own home, but to nearly triple its size and, when she became confined to a wheelchair, added an elevator to it. oh- and, as i found out, she converted her carriage-house into a garage, which held her packard automobile.
6:00ish pm: merge onto the beltway. (I-495 N)
6:30ish pm: enjoying the crawling traffic on the beltway, only because i'm catching a friend's radio show on 99.5.
6:50 pm: merge back onto I-95. still can't figure out why traffic was crawling. there was one tow truck the entire time. no hovering spaceships or busted armored cars.......go figure.
7:05 pm: arrive at sibling's house. congratulate self on finding it the first time and not having to call for rescue. (though, to be fair, i had mama on the phone, and i can't say she didn't guide me in.)
total number of cops seen: 10
total number of rest areas visited: three
total number of pepto chewables (i think i still prefer the liquid) chewed: 4
total driving time: 7:45 (take that, mapquest! so much for your 8:15!)
(actually, i'm about half an hour or so away, but i figure it's close enough to call it.)
i've road-tripped up here this weekend to see my sibling and attend some of the edgar allan poe bicentennial festivities. john astin will be making an appearance (he's doing a tribute to poe", and i'm wondering if he'll kiss my arm if i say something to him in french.
i took a lot of notes during the trip up, thinking i could use them for a post, but
a. i'm too lazy to go outside and grab the notepad out of my car and
b. since i scribbled while driving, i'm not sure i could read my semi-legible chicken scratch anyway.
so, here's what i recall:
10:10 am: after two trips back inside my apartment, it appears that i've thrown everything i need into my car and i can finally leave. unfortunately, i've also determined during the two trips back inside that pepto-bismol will be riding shotgun today. on the bright side, this could provide invaluable information to other travelers regarding the number of rest areas along I-95.
10:35 am: after visiting two banks (the bosses' and my own), i am finally heading out on the highway. (unfortunately, "born to be wild" is not on my ipod, so i'm settling for "don't worry, be happy" instead.
10:40 am: i'm doing 80 in the passing lane, and this black mustang is practically in my backseat. i finish passing the 18-wheeler on my right, and mutter something under my breath about hoping the speed demon gets pulled.
10:55 am: pass my first cop. the speed demon got pulled.
11:10 am: pass my second through fourth cops. they've pulled over an suv, and it looks like they're dismantling it. can't decide whether they're looking for drugs, illegal aliens, or weapons of mass destruction.
11:15 am: merge onto I-95 from I-20. resolve to count the number of south of the border billboards between here and the border. unfortunately, this is my most quickly broken resolution ever, as five minutes later, i miss a few while counting cops 5-7, who are pulled over with two suvs. there does not appear to have been an accident, and neither of the suvs are being dismantled, and while i pondered this, i probably missed a couple more signs. drat.
11:50ish am: pass south of the border. were i not already running a little late, i'd stop and take pictures with the gnomes.
12:30-3:30 pm: drive to richmond. pass a couple more cops, including one who pulled a car over just past the turnoff for a rest area. (so much for the "sorry, officer, but i really have to pee" excuse....)
stop three times at rest areas and once for gas. observe that there's a sign on the back of the gas station restroom door that offers a free drink if the bathroom's dirty. the bathroom is actually fairly clean, though i'm mildly concerned about the lack of privacy, as there are no walls separating the two toilets from each other or the sink area. also, it seems that the throne i've selected doubles as a thrill ride. you know those little caps that cover the bolts at the base of the toilet? they're missing....as are the bolts. that should be good for a free drink or bag of sunchips or something......
3:30 pm: arrive in richmond. follow mapquest's directions to a spot near (because mapquest doesn't always deliver you to the front door) the maggie l. walker national historic site. i'm thrilled, because only one u-turn was involved.
3:30-4:30 pm: after the informative 11-minute video, tour the exhibits and mrs. walker's home. hers is a real "rags to riches" story- freeborn daughter of a former slave and an irishman (by the way, they couldn't marry, because interracial marriages were illegal in virginia at the time) graduates from high school at 16, marries at 19, becomes the first woman to found a chartered bank, as well as the oldest bank continuously run by african americans, becomes wealthy enough to not only own her own home, but to nearly triple its size and, when she became confined to a wheelchair, added an elevator to it. oh- and, as i found out, she converted her carriage-house into a garage, which held her packard automobile.
6:00ish pm: merge onto the beltway. (I-495 N)
6:30ish pm: enjoying the crawling traffic on the beltway, only because i'm catching a friend's radio show on 99.5.
6:50 pm: merge back onto I-95. still can't figure out why traffic was crawling. there was one tow truck the entire time. no hovering spaceships or busted armored cars.......go figure.
7:05 pm: arrive at sibling's house. congratulate self on finding it the first time and not having to call for rescue. (though, to be fair, i had mama on the phone, and i can't say she didn't guide me in.)
total number of cops seen: 10
total number of rest areas visited: three
total number of pepto chewables (i think i still prefer the liquid) chewed: 4
total driving time: 7:45 (take that, mapquest! so much for your 8:15!)
Sunday, January 25, 2009
a glitch in time
i seem to have missed the boat....or maybe another form of slow-moving transportation would be more appropriate- but i'm getting ahead of myself.
last year, for christmas, i was blessed with not one, not two, but three wall calendars. two wound up (strangely enough) on walls, and the third i regifted or sent to goodwill or something equally appropriate.*
this year, sadly, i received not three, not two, not even one calendar.
in my kitchen, i'm still looking at december 2008, which involved photos of new zealand's south island. the useless tidbits i normally write on my kitchen calendar (which hours i worked for which job, when it would be best to approach me with dark chocolate, pomegranates, and my name is earl on dvd), are being scribbled on little pieces of paper- generally the backs of last year's page-a-day calendar- and stacked on my desk for transfer to the wall calendar i've yet to get.
above my desk hangs december 2008 (for once i'm only a month off)- denali national park. i don't actually write anything on this calendar, and since i hang my copy of the call schedule on this one (so i don't relay the voicemail messages to the wrong physicians on their days off), i'm seriously considering flipping back to january, tacking on this month's schedule, and calling it good.
however, i can't really reuse my kitchen calendar. i've scribbled all over it.
you would think that calendars would be fairly easy to find at this time of year. stores should still have surpluses (surpli?), which should be marked down by at least 20%.
with this in mind, i ventured out to my nearest bookstore this week. i didn't see any calendars there, but managed to find a few other items of interest, since they were going out of business and everything was 40% off. i staggered up to the counter with my treasures (as i told one of the employees, i carry everything in my arms, because when i run out of room, i know it's time to check out.), and whe i mentioned that i'd entered the store in search of a calendar but didn't see any, i was informed that they had two kinds- fuzzy baby kittens and something or other from the new yorker.
i'm afraid that neither of the above is really my speed.
i thought i might find something during yesterday's impromptu road trip to charleston. SO and i drove past a barnes and noble, and i gently suggested that maybe we should stop in and check out their selection.
ah, so young- so full of hope.
sadly, even i am a little too old to be interested in high school musical 3 (though i must admit to harboring a small crush on corbin bleu), and i'm afraid the only thing the "sci fi and fantasy heroes" calendar said to me was, "wow- are you really that desperate?"
the only other option at barnes and noble was- and i could see it in a state like, say, kansas, where i once blew 25 cents on the most scenic postcard i could find- a field of wheat (i kid you not)- tractors.
oh, yes- twelve glorious months of tractors. i didn't check to see if there were any action shots, but i can assure you that there were neither hunky, farmers wearing halfway undone overalls or comely milkmaids marring the view of these fine pieces of machinery.
sorry, but if i'm going to spend a year staring at a john deere(tm)**, there had better be some decent scenery to go along with it.
there was a ginormous hallmark store in the same shopping center, but that did not prove any more fruitful. (i'd warned SO when he suggested it that, having once worked in a hallmark store, the calendars they were likely to have in stock were not likely to be my style, as i am not into fuzzy baby kittens, especially as "painted" by thomas kinkade.)
so, when i get home from work in roughly another 9 hours, i will add yet another scrap of paper to the pile on my desk. i'm hoping i can stumble into something when i'm up in baltimore next week (visiting my sibling and attending the second weekend of the poe bicentennial). otherwise, i may have to ask SO to pick up the tractors after all......
*if you're reading this and received a calendar from me last year, rest assured that it wasn't yours. your calendar was picked out for you specifically with your tastes in mind. i mean, would anyone have known that you like fuzzy baby kittens, as "painted" by thomas kinkade? i think not. it would take an awfully thoughtful friend to hit that nail on the head......
**though, it should be noted that this was not the official john deere(tm) calendar, they probably were john deere(tm) knockoffs, and not actual john deere(tm) tractors.
last year, for christmas, i was blessed with not one, not two, but three wall calendars. two wound up (strangely enough) on walls, and the third i regifted or sent to goodwill or something equally appropriate.*
this year, sadly, i received not three, not two, not even one calendar.
in my kitchen, i'm still looking at december 2008, which involved photos of new zealand's south island. the useless tidbits i normally write on my kitchen calendar (which hours i worked for which job, when it would be best to approach me with dark chocolate, pomegranates, and my name is earl on dvd), are being scribbled on little pieces of paper- generally the backs of last year's page-a-day calendar- and stacked on my desk for transfer to the wall calendar i've yet to get.
above my desk hangs december 2008 (for once i'm only a month off)- denali national park. i don't actually write anything on this calendar, and since i hang my copy of the call schedule on this one (so i don't relay the voicemail messages to the wrong physicians on their days off), i'm seriously considering flipping back to january, tacking on this month's schedule, and calling it good.
however, i can't really reuse my kitchen calendar. i've scribbled all over it.
you would think that calendars would be fairly easy to find at this time of year. stores should still have surpluses (surpli?), which should be marked down by at least 20%.
with this in mind, i ventured out to my nearest bookstore this week. i didn't see any calendars there, but managed to find a few other items of interest, since they were going out of business and everything was 40% off. i staggered up to the counter with my treasures (as i told one of the employees, i carry everything in my arms, because when i run out of room, i know it's time to check out.), and whe i mentioned that i'd entered the store in search of a calendar but didn't see any, i was informed that they had two kinds- fuzzy baby kittens and something or other from the new yorker.
i'm afraid that neither of the above is really my speed.
i thought i might find something during yesterday's impromptu road trip to charleston. SO and i drove past a barnes and noble, and i gently suggested that maybe we should stop in and check out their selection.
ah, so young- so full of hope.
sadly, even i am a little too old to be interested in high school musical 3 (though i must admit to harboring a small crush on corbin bleu), and i'm afraid the only thing the "sci fi and fantasy heroes" calendar said to me was, "wow- are you really that desperate?"
the only other option at barnes and noble was- and i could see it in a state like, say, kansas, where i once blew 25 cents on the most scenic postcard i could find- a field of wheat (i kid you not)- tractors.
oh, yes- twelve glorious months of tractors. i didn't check to see if there were any action shots, but i can assure you that there were neither hunky, farmers wearing halfway undone overalls or comely milkmaids marring the view of these fine pieces of machinery.
sorry, but if i'm going to spend a year staring at a john deere(tm)**, there had better be some decent scenery to go along with it.
there was a ginormous hallmark store in the same shopping center, but that did not prove any more fruitful. (i'd warned SO when he suggested it that, having once worked in a hallmark store, the calendars they were likely to have in stock were not likely to be my style, as i am not into fuzzy baby kittens, especially as "painted" by thomas kinkade.)
so, when i get home from work in roughly another 9 hours, i will add yet another scrap of paper to the pile on my desk. i'm hoping i can stumble into something when i'm up in baltimore next week (visiting my sibling and attending the second weekend of the poe bicentennial). otherwise, i may have to ask SO to pick up the tractors after all......
*if you're reading this and received a calendar from me last year, rest assured that it wasn't yours. your calendar was picked out for you specifically with your tastes in mind. i mean, would anyone have known that you like fuzzy baby kittens, as "painted" by thomas kinkade? i think not. it would take an awfully thoughtful friend to hit that nail on the head......
**though, it should be noted that this was not the official john deere(tm) calendar, they probably were john deere(tm) knockoffs, and not actual john deere(tm) tractors.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
at a loss for words
i'm working on something.
actually, i should be working on several somethings- decluttering my apartment, scribbling on avon brochures, cooking something for dinner, working on my billing stuff- but i figured before i started any of those projects, i'd work on scribbling something to submit to newsweek's my turn column.
i had a topic of interest, and i've managed to pound out about half of the 900-word maximum.....
....but i got stuck.
here's the most frustrating part: the article i'm attempting to write is about language.
actually, i should be working on several somethings- decluttering my apartment, scribbling on avon brochures, cooking something for dinner, working on my billing stuff- but i figured before i started any of those projects, i'd work on scribbling something to submit to newsweek's my turn column.
i had a topic of interest, and i've managed to pound out about half of the 900-word maximum.....
....but i got stuck.
here's the most frustrating part: the article i'm attempting to write is about language.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
better make that screwdriver a double- my contacts are cruddy
i could lie to you and tell you i've sat down to write something new several times over the past couple of months....though, come to think of it, that's not really a lie, as i've sat down to pound out the annual holiday letter and numerous emails, and i've handwritten my fair share of thank you notes and checks to pay the bills.
so, let me simply say that this is the first time i've sat down to post something new to the blog. (fair enough?)
my trip up to maine for the holidays would have made great fodder for a post, but the notes i scribbled furiously (ok- maybe i wasn't furious at the time, but there were certianly moments when i felt a wee bit inconvenienced) fill enough of my journal that i doubt you would care to set aside half an hour to read the post. it's more a "chapter at bedtime" length, and at the rate i'm going with my bestselling autobiography, we'll all be heading for bed in the nursing homes of our choice before the words will be in print.
....but i digress, and it would be unfair of me to hook you with such a tempting title and not deliver, right?
yesterday started as my fridays usually do: i'm still trying to get caught up on my full-time work after returning from my vacation, so i woke up early and put in a couple of hours on my most urgent project. after a snack and a shower, i headed out the door a little later than intended. (to borrow from tom jones: it's not unusual.)
after loading three boxes' worth of avon orders into my car, as well as all of the stuff i'd need for my work across town, i plopped down in the driver's seat (the place to be when one intends to drive), plugged in the ipod (current obsessions: foxboro hot tubs, the soup dragons, and scissor sisters), and fired up the ignition.
except, for the car to actually go anywhere, something has to happen when you put the key in the ignition- and this does not include giving the car funny looks, muttering under one's breath, or throwing something. in fact, it's rumored that once the key is turned in the ignition, assuming feet are on the proper pedals (if required), the car customarily makes the next move.
my car did nothing. not a damn thing.
so, i did the logical thing. i took the key out and tried it again.
still nothing.
so, i did the next most logical thing; i called for help.
fortunately, my dad is retired, and in between international travel and fixing things around his houses, he has little else to do with his time than sit around, waiting for me to call for advice.
(ok- maybe not completely true, but i think he likes this whole "giving advice" thing- especially since, during my formative teen years, i was loath to take any advice he tried to pass along.)
sorry- digressed again. it happens- especially when i go so long between posts.
anyway, the first thing he said was:
"okay. haul out your screwdriver. flathead would be ideal, but if you only have a phillips head, that could work in a pinch."
now, i ask you: how many of you keep screwdrivers in your car?
exactly my point.
so, with daddy still on the phone, i locked the car and walked the fifty yards and two flights of stairs back to my apartment.
in retrospect, it would have been helpful if he'd mentioned at this time that i might need to also grab a wrench or pair of pliers or some other torque-producing tool*, but he saved that little tidbit until after i used the screwdriver to scrape the metal battery terminals and the car magically started.**
while i walked back the fifty yars and two flights of stairs again, this time for the pliers which, by the way, are currently riding shotgun in my car, i asked if it would be possible for me to run my other errands (avon deliveries, bank, work across town) before getting the car taken care of. i'll spare you the details, but let's just say that my dad advised that i keep the stopping to a minimum until after my "contacts are cleaned".
i pointed out that i wasn't wearing my contacts- i was flying blind. (i like to think my family, particularly my dad, appreciates my smartass sense of humor.)
i made a couple of stops ("slow-downs", really) on the way to triple a, where i found out that my car couldn't be seen for another 2 1/2 hours. i called the boss across town to advise him of this, and he told me not to waste my time and money- he'd take care of my car when i got there. since i had my now-trusty screwdriver (i'd had to scrape the contacts when my car wouldn't start after my second tool-retrieving trip to the apartment) and pliers (though i suffered from the inability to loosen the bolts enough to pull the clamps off of the contacts), i figured i'd throw caution to the wind.
three stops, two phone calls to male friends who might have experienced this predicament firsthand (i bet neither of them carry tools in their cars), and one more screwdriver-scraping later, i pulled into my boss's driveway.
three hours, two retightened clamps (turns out one had been really loose all along), and one sheet of sandpaper later, i pulled back out of the boss's driveway.
since everything was taken apart and scraped with the sandpaper, i'm not sure there's any real reason to carry the screwdriver around anymore though i suppose, if i get frustrated enough then next time my car won't start, i can hurl the screwdriver, and then use the pliers in the event it becomes stuck in whatever i happen to hurl it at.
*i have no clue if "torque-producing" is even accurate, but since i'm now driving around with tools in my car, i'm trying to sound like someone who knows technical stuff about these things, unlike someone who, prior to this, carried an emery board and a tire pressure guage thingy and nothing else remotely toolish (toollike?)in their chariot.
**after i put my key back into the ignition. i mean, it's not like i'm driving chitty chitty bang bang here.
so, let me simply say that this is the first time i've sat down to post something new to the blog. (fair enough?)
my trip up to maine for the holidays would have made great fodder for a post, but the notes i scribbled furiously (ok- maybe i wasn't furious at the time, but there were certianly moments when i felt a wee bit inconvenienced) fill enough of my journal that i doubt you would care to set aside half an hour to read the post. it's more a "chapter at bedtime" length, and at the rate i'm going with my bestselling autobiography, we'll all be heading for bed in the nursing homes of our choice before the words will be in print.
....but i digress, and it would be unfair of me to hook you with such a tempting title and not deliver, right?
yesterday started as my fridays usually do: i'm still trying to get caught up on my full-time work after returning from my vacation, so i woke up early and put in a couple of hours on my most urgent project. after a snack and a shower, i headed out the door a little later than intended. (to borrow from tom jones: it's not unusual.)
after loading three boxes' worth of avon orders into my car, as well as all of the stuff i'd need for my work across town, i plopped down in the driver's seat (the place to be when one intends to drive), plugged in the ipod (current obsessions: foxboro hot tubs, the soup dragons, and scissor sisters), and fired up the ignition.
except, for the car to actually go anywhere, something has to happen when you put the key in the ignition- and this does not include giving the car funny looks, muttering under one's breath, or throwing something. in fact, it's rumored that once the key is turned in the ignition, assuming feet are on the proper pedals (if required), the car customarily makes the next move.
my car did nothing. not a damn thing.
so, i did the logical thing. i took the key out and tried it again.
still nothing.
so, i did the next most logical thing; i called for help.
fortunately, my dad is retired, and in between international travel and fixing things around his houses, he has little else to do with his time than sit around, waiting for me to call for advice.
(ok- maybe not completely true, but i think he likes this whole "giving advice" thing- especially since, during my formative teen years, i was loath to take any advice he tried to pass along.)
sorry- digressed again. it happens- especially when i go so long between posts.
anyway, the first thing he said was:
"okay. haul out your screwdriver. flathead would be ideal, but if you only have a phillips head, that could work in a pinch."
now, i ask you: how many of you keep screwdrivers in your car?
exactly my point.
so, with daddy still on the phone, i locked the car and walked the fifty yards and two flights of stairs back to my apartment.
in retrospect, it would have been helpful if he'd mentioned at this time that i might need to also grab a wrench or pair of pliers or some other torque-producing tool*, but he saved that little tidbit until after i used the screwdriver to scrape the metal battery terminals and the car magically started.**
while i walked back the fifty yars and two flights of stairs again, this time for the pliers which, by the way, are currently riding shotgun in my car, i asked if it would be possible for me to run my other errands (avon deliveries, bank, work across town) before getting the car taken care of. i'll spare you the details, but let's just say that my dad advised that i keep the stopping to a minimum until after my "contacts are cleaned".
i pointed out that i wasn't wearing my contacts- i was flying blind. (i like to think my family, particularly my dad, appreciates my smartass sense of humor.)
i made a couple of stops ("slow-downs", really) on the way to triple a, where i found out that my car couldn't be seen for another 2 1/2 hours. i called the boss across town to advise him of this, and he told me not to waste my time and money- he'd take care of my car when i got there. since i had my now-trusty screwdriver (i'd had to scrape the contacts when my car wouldn't start after my second tool-retrieving trip to the apartment) and pliers (though i suffered from the inability to loosen the bolts enough to pull the clamps off of the contacts), i figured i'd throw caution to the wind.
three stops, two phone calls to male friends who might have experienced this predicament firsthand (i bet neither of them carry tools in their cars), and one more screwdriver-scraping later, i pulled into my boss's driveway.
three hours, two retightened clamps (turns out one had been really loose all along), and one sheet of sandpaper later, i pulled back out of the boss's driveway.
since everything was taken apart and scraped with the sandpaper, i'm not sure there's any real reason to carry the screwdriver around anymore though i suppose, if i get frustrated enough then next time my car won't start, i can hurl the screwdriver, and then use the pliers in the event it becomes stuck in whatever i happen to hurl it at.
*i have no clue if "torque-producing" is even accurate, but since i'm now driving around with tools in my car, i'm trying to sound like someone who knows technical stuff about these things, unlike someone who, prior to this, carried an emery board and a tire pressure guage thingy and nothing else remotely toolish (toollike?)in their chariot.
**after i put my key back into the ignition. i mean, it's not like i'm driving chitty chitty bang bang here.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
like a rhinestone cowboy, on a steel horse i ride
i've spent my week near hilton head, watching my sidekick and her brother while their parents frolick in key west, florida. the commute to their private school is about half an hour each way, and i made three trips a day, due to the fact that sidekick's brother has football practice and needs to be retrieved about 3 hours after sidekick is dismissed from school. this translates into about 15 hours spent in the car this week, which further translates into 15 hours of radio/cd listening time this past week.
when i packed last weekend for the trip down here, i grabbed a few cds, since i have SO's car, which has the cd player that mine lacks. i figured i'd broaden the kids' musical horizons with the doors, huey lewis, kenny wayne shepherd, and billy idol. (the kids now know that you can get away with wearing leather after 50. in fact, sidekick's brother pointed out that steven tyler still dresses in that sort of thing. i contemplated pointing out that keith richards, who is even older, has extremely leathery skin, which should count for something, but i think we'll probably save that lesson for next time.)
anyway, after the 2 1/2 hour drive down and a few trips to/from school, i was sick of most of the above. (i was especially distressed to realize that my greatest hits of huey lewis and the news was missing "hip to be square". the really sad part is that i did not realize this until after scrolling through the album randomly* a few times, and then finally giving in, reaching under the passenger seat, and locating the cd case to confirm my fears.)
so, i've been using the cds mainly when the semi-local radio station i found (chuck-fm, out of charleston) plays something distasteful, like political commercials.
i was feeling too lazy one morning to hit the "cd" button when something i'd never heard bfeore came on.....or maybe i was more intrigued at how such a bizarre song could be produced- and without weird al being somehow involved.
I've been walkin' these streets so long
Singin' the same old song
I know every crack in these dirty sidewalks of Broadway
Where hustle's the name of the game
And nice guys get washed away like the snow and the rain
There's been a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Getting cards and letters from people I don't even know
And offers comin' over the phone
Well, I really don't mind the rain
And a smile can hide all the pain
But you're down when you're ridin' the train that's takin' the long way
And I dream of the things I'll do
With a subway token and a dollar tucked inside my shoe
There'll be a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Rhinestone cowboy
Gettin' cards and letters from people I don't even know
And offers comin' over the phone
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
FADE
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Gettin' card and letters from people I don't even know
a few years ago, while SO and i were visiting his relatives in phoenix, it was all over the news that glen campbell had been arrested for drunk driving. as i understand it, this is not an unusual thing to hear on the news. i believe i can understand why. i, too, would take up heavy drinking if i were responsible for this assault on the ears.
i called my dad to point this observation out to him, and he semi agreed, though i later learned that he, in fact, owns glen campbell's greatest hits. (despite his large collection of stones, depeche mode, elvis, and dr. demento cds, i am now beginning to question his taste in music.)
anyway, apparently daddy felt the need to share the news of the agony i was experiencing, as i called him again three hours later to notify him that the line "like a rhinestone cowboy" had been repeating in my noggin on a loop for the past three hours, which he then passed along to my sibling. i would have been none the wiser about this spreading gossip, except when i called her yesterday morning to compliment her on her choice of attire in celebration of "argyle friday" (i am not a participant, due to a lack of argyle apparel), she happened to mention "rhinestone cowboy". guess what wound up in my head for the next half hour?
to make matters worse, when i called daddy to discuss a completely unrelated matter, he felt the need to inquire as to how the "rhinestone cowboy" was doing. greeeeat.
two hours later, as i was heading over to the school to pick up the kids, guess what came up on chuck-fm's rotation? i nearly drove off the bridge, which would have been bad, because while the kids are good little hikers, i just don't see them making a 25 mile walk home from school. (naturally, i called my dad and told him he was to blame for all this, which he finds inexplicably funny. i am already planning my revenge, though i have not yet managed to locate "rhinestone chaps" on amazon.)
on the bright side, it seems i have finally found a way to get that dangblasted song out of my head- or more precisely, that line from that dangblasted song.
whilst shoveling out and reorganizing the boss's office this week, i've been running pandora on his computer. bon jovi popped up on my "def leppard" station when i got back from retrieving the kids, and i've found that somehow "rhinestone cowboy" gives way to "wanted dead or alive" pretty easily. since i dig bon jovi, i figure this is a good thing.
now, if i could just find those chaps........
*"why randomly?", you ask. well, the display on SO's stereo system hasn't lit up since before i met him, and apparently i somehow knocked the secret "shuffle" key sometime within the past two weeks. since the key is not clearly marked (unless "fade" means something different in his car than it does in mine), i have very little hope of switching it back.
when i packed last weekend for the trip down here, i grabbed a few cds, since i have SO's car, which has the cd player that mine lacks. i figured i'd broaden the kids' musical horizons with the doors, huey lewis, kenny wayne shepherd, and billy idol. (the kids now know that you can get away with wearing leather after 50. in fact, sidekick's brother pointed out that steven tyler still dresses in that sort of thing. i contemplated pointing out that keith richards, who is even older, has extremely leathery skin, which should count for something, but i think we'll probably save that lesson for next time.)
anyway, after the 2 1/2 hour drive down and a few trips to/from school, i was sick of most of the above. (i was especially distressed to realize that my greatest hits of huey lewis and the news was missing "hip to be square". the really sad part is that i did not realize this until after scrolling through the album randomly* a few times, and then finally giving in, reaching under the passenger seat, and locating the cd case to confirm my fears.)
so, i've been using the cds mainly when the semi-local radio station i found (chuck-fm, out of charleston) plays something distasteful, like political commercials.
i was feeling too lazy one morning to hit the "cd" button when something i'd never heard bfeore came on.....or maybe i was more intrigued at how such a bizarre song could be produced- and without weird al being somehow involved.
I've been walkin' these streets so long
Singin' the same old song
I know every crack in these dirty sidewalks of Broadway
Where hustle's the name of the game
And nice guys get washed away like the snow and the rain
There's been a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Getting cards and letters from people I don't even know
And offers comin' over the phone
Well, I really don't mind the rain
And a smile can hide all the pain
But you're down when you're ridin' the train that's takin' the long way
And I dream of the things I'll do
With a subway token and a dollar tucked inside my shoe
There'll be a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Rhinestone cowboy
Gettin' cards and letters from people I don't even know
And offers comin' over the phone
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
FADE
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Gettin' card and letters from people I don't even know
a few years ago, while SO and i were visiting his relatives in phoenix, it was all over the news that glen campbell had been arrested for drunk driving. as i understand it, this is not an unusual thing to hear on the news. i believe i can understand why. i, too, would take up heavy drinking if i were responsible for this assault on the ears.
i called my dad to point this observation out to him, and he semi agreed, though i later learned that he, in fact, owns glen campbell's greatest hits. (despite his large collection of stones, depeche mode, elvis, and dr. demento cds, i am now beginning to question his taste in music.)
anyway, apparently daddy felt the need to share the news of the agony i was experiencing, as i called him again three hours later to notify him that the line "like a rhinestone cowboy" had been repeating in my noggin on a loop for the past three hours, which he then passed along to my sibling. i would have been none the wiser about this spreading gossip, except when i called her yesterday morning to compliment her on her choice of attire in celebration of "argyle friday" (i am not a participant, due to a lack of argyle apparel), she happened to mention "rhinestone cowboy". guess what wound up in my head for the next half hour?
to make matters worse, when i called daddy to discuss a completely unrelated matter, he felt the need to inquire as to how the "rhinestone cowboy" was doing. greeeeat.
two hours later, as i was heading over to the school to pick up the kids, guess what came up on chuck-fm's rotation? i nearly drove off the bridge, which would have been bad, because while the kids are good little hikers, i just don't see them making a 25 mile walk home from school. (naturally, i called my dad and told him he was to blame for all this, which he finds inexplicably funny. i am already planning my revenge, though i have not yet managed to locate "rhinestone chaps" on amazon.)
on the bright side, it seems i have finally found a way to get that dangblasted song out of my head- or more precisely, that line from that dangblasted song.
whilst shoveling out and reorganizing the boss's office this week, i've been running pandora on his computer. bon jovi popped up on my "def leppard" station when i got back from retrieving the kids, and i've found that somehow "rhinestone cowboy" gives way to "wanted dead or alive" pretty easily. since i dig bon jovi, i figure this is a good thing.
now, if i could just find those chaps........
*"why randomly?", you ask. well, the display on SO's stereo system hasn't lit up since before i met him, and apparently i somehow knocked the secret "shuffle" key sometime within the past two weeks. since the key is not clearly marked (unless "fade" means something different in his car than it does in mine), i have very little hope of switching it back.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
babe (?) in the woods
in an effort to boost the bank accounts and finally get alaska and hawaii back off of my credit card (conditions that i've decided have to be met before i can travel again), i've been burying myself in work lately. unfortunately, i'm starting to burn out a little bit, so SO came up for the weekend and we took advantage of my working only one shift at the radio station yesterday and went hiking at the anne springs close greenway in fort mill, sc (near charlotte).
admission to the park was quite reasonable (as with most of the sc state parks we've been to, the admission is $2 per person. one of these days, i'll get around to ponying up for sc state parks annual pass- sometime after my finances have been straightened out.), and it was easy to find- just a couple of miles away from I-77.
the first trail we tackled was the 1.3 mile loop around lake haigler. while SO took a few minutes to prepare for the hike, i tried to snap a photo of this huge blue heron perched on a log near the shore. unfortunately, the heron heard the leaves crunching underfoot as i crept closer for the perfect shot, and the perfect shot wound up being a perfect shot of an empty log. i still have no idea where the heron flew off to. (pardon the dangling participle- sometimes proper grammar just looks too awkward to attempt.)
i'm afraid i can't share my perfect log picture with you- not because its beauty will stun you, rendering you unable to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day. i can't share it with you because i was so irritated about the runaway heron that i deleted the photo in a fit of rage.*
instead, you'll have to settle for these:
lest my dad freak out over my hair, let me point out that it's actually in a ponytail. it's gotten within a few inches of my waist, and while i'm going to cut it, it won't exactly be a shearing long enough to send to locks of love, though i briefly considered it......
after we finished hiking around the lake, we headed toward the steele creek/blue star loop. we figured out that this trail added a hair over 3 1/2 miles, giving us about five for the day, altogether. (i believe that means what i'm currently feeling is about 2 1/2 miles in the back of each thigh- ugh. fortunately, i've managed to convince myself that it's a "good" pain and means my upper thighs/derriere no longer resemble the skin of an albino orange.)
fellow hikers. perhaps hot dog (with backpack) will post about our hike over on his brother bodhi's blog
one of the perks of hiking in the fall. even down here in south carolina, the leaves change color. this was after we passed the dairy barn and crossed old nation road.
at the old railroad trestle. i like this picture so much that i shrank (shrunk?) it down for my msn messenger photo.
the park features a mix of hiking, biking and horse trails. the trails we were on were fairly well maintained, though not always clearly marked...unless you count the "organic cairns" left behind by this guy....
*well, not exactly rage- more like frustration, really
admission to the park was quite reasonable (as with most of the sc state parks we've been to, the admission is $2 per person. one of these days, i'll get around to ponying up for sc state parks annual pass- sometime after my finances have been straightened out.), and it was easy to find- just a couple of miles away from I-77.
the first trail we tackled was the 1.3 mile loop around lake haigler. while SO took a few minutes to prepare for the hike, i tried to snap a photo of this huge blue heron perched on a log near the shore. unfortunately, the heron heard the leaves crunching underfoot as i crept closer for the perfect shot, and the perfect shot wound up being a perfect shot of an empty log. i still have no idea where the heron flew off to. (pardon the dangling participle- sometimes proper grammar just looks too awkward to attempt.)
i'm afraid i can't share my perfect log picture with you- not because its beauty will stun you, rendering you unable to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day. i can't share it with you because i was so irritated about the runaway heron that i deleted the photo in a fit of rage.*
instead, you'll have to settle for these:
lest my dad freak out over my hair, let me point out that it's actually in a ponytail. it's gotten within a few inches of my waist, and while i'm going to cut it, it won't exactly be a shearing long enough to send to locks of love, though i briefly considered it......
after we finished hiking around the lake, we headed toward the steele creek/blue star loop. we figured out that this trail added a hair over 3 1/2 miles, giving us about five for the day, altogether. (i believe that means what i'm currently feeling is about 2 1/2 miles in the back of each thigh- ugh. fortunately, i've managed to convince myself that it's a "good" pain and means my upper thighs/derriere no longer resemble the skin of an albino orange.)
fellow hikers. perhaps hot dog (with backpack) will post about our hike over on his brother bodhi's blog
one of the perks of hiking in the fall. even down here in south carolina, the leaves change color. this was after we passed the dairy barn and crossed old nation road.
at the old railroad trestle. i like this picture so much that i shrank (shrunk?) it down for my msn messenger photo.
the park features a mix of hiking, biking and horse trails. the trails we were on were fairly well maintained, though not always clearly marked...unless you count the "organic cairns" left behind by this guy....
*well, not exactly rage- more like frustration, really
Saturday, September 27, 2008
dead *hack**hack* *cough**cough* sexy
ribbit.
despite consuming ridiculous quantities of hot tea with honey, i have spent the past week sounding like i have a 3 pack a day habit. on the bright side, radio listeners (especially of the male persuasion) seem to dig the oh-so-sexy, husky voice produced by the change in weather, screaming one's head off at a def leppard concert, and/or smoking 3 packs a day.
since i haven't been to any concerts recently and i haven't smoked since a stray cigarette at some random frat party in college, i'm inclined to chalk this one up to the semiannual weather transition. we've been alternating between 85 degrees and sunny and 70 and raining. it's almost enough to remind me of missouri weather, minus the chance of snow.
another possibility occured to me last week, and i figure i'll know in another week or two whether or not it is, indeed, the case:
second puberty.
i'm actually kind of rooting for this one, mostly because it means i might sprout bigger boobs this time.....which solves the problem of what to be for halloween- add a little red hair dye to the husky voice and supersized chest, and jessica rabbit wouldn't be a stretch. (ok....maybe a little stretch)
if this scratchy throat thing doesn't clear up by halloween, i'm so there. what's more, i've found yet another career option. it has the flexibility i need (set my own hours, work from home), and at $2.99/minute, i should be rolling in the dough in no time. i just have to figure out how to control the urge to giggle while picturing some lonely guy sitting around the house on a saturday night picturing rebecca romijn-stamos (or, hey- how about jessica rabbit?) doing exotic things with a live chicken and some peach preserves.*
then again, i hear some guys are into that sort of thing......
*yes, i know that version features a weed eater and cool whip instead, but i'm too lazy (and too aware of my susceptibility to getting sucked into a youtube tangent) to chase down a video with the proper lyrics.
despite consuming ridiculous quantities of hot tea with honey, i have spent the past week sounding like i have a 3 pack a day habit. on the bright side, radio listeners (especially of the male persuasion) seem to dig the oh-so-sexy, husky voice produced by the change in weather, screaming one's head off at a def leppard concert, and/or smoking 3 packs a day.
since i haven't been to any concerts recently and i haven't smoked since a stray cigarette at some random frat party in college, i'm inclined to chalk this one up to the semiannual weather transition. we've been alternating between 85 degrees and sunny and 70 and raining. it's almost enough to remind me of missouri weather, minus the chance of snow.
another possibility occured to me last week, and i figure i'll know in another week or two whether or not it is, indeed, the case:
second puberty.
i'm actually kind of rooting for this one, mostly because it means i might sprout bigger boobs this time.....which solves the problem of what to be for halloween- add a little red hair dye to the husky voice and supersized chest, and jessica rabbit wouldn't be a stretch. (ok....maybe a little stretch)
if this scratchy throat thing doesn't clear up by halloween, i'm so there. what's more, i've found yet another career option. it has the flexibility i need (set my own hours, work from home), and at $2.99/minute, i should be rolling in the dough in no time. i just have to figure out how to control the urge to giggle while picturing some lonely guy sitting around the house on a saturday night picturing rebecca romijn-stamos (or, hey- how about jessica rabbit?) doing exotic things with a live chicken and some peach preserves.*
then again, i hear some guys are into that sort of thing......
*yes, i know that version features a weed eater and cool whip instead, but i'm too lazy (and too aware of my susceptibility to getting sucked into a youtube tangent) to chase down a video with the proper lyrics.
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