I need to make myself a certificate to donate that I truly am a professional procrastinator (but I just haven’t gotten around to doing it yet).
Any excuse is good enough for not doing something. Today’s excuse is:
I have to go somewhere in 4 hours.
Why haven’t I started doing laundry?
Why haven’t I taken the bags of leaves to the front for trash pick up?
Why haven’t I done the dishes?
Why haven’t I paid some bills?
Well, because I have to go somewhere in 4 hours. A quick trip for rescue to do a home check. Won’t take long at all, we’ll probably go to the mall afterwards, so its actually like going to the mall with a quick stop at a stranger’s house for a half hour, tops, but because its “scheduled”, I’m incapable of doing anything before that time.
I’ll try to spell it out, as its a bit confusing even to me. For some reason, if I’m waiting on a repair person, or have to go somewhere at a specific time, I’m incapable of doing anything because I will be interrupted. I’ll get stated on doing something, such as laundry, and since I’m the paranoid type that doesn’t like to leave appliances running while I’m gone for fear that they will spontaneously combust, or flood the house, I need to be around when they are running. Since I’m very bad at estimating how long it takes for the average load of dishes to run (I’ve only had this dishwasher for about 10 years now, so you would think I would have a reasonable time frame as to how long a load takes), so instead of pushing the limits of dishwashing cleaning time, I refuse to start the dishwasher if I have something scheduled. At least I’m not so pathetic that if I have anything schedule for next week is cause not to start the dishwasher, but it is pretty pathetic.
Same goes with the washer and dryer, except they really do have a count down timer on them that actually tells me how long a load will take to wash and then dry. Regardless, it just takes too much planning to figure out if I have enough time before the thing that is scheduled to know if I have enough time for a load of laundry.
I can’t possibly do anything that requires any sort of concentration if a repair person is coming to the house, because I have to be ever vigilant for the knock on the door, then the mad dash to get the dogs either outside or in their crates before opening the door. Its very stressful, so trying to do something that requires half a brain (the other half of my brain is always on vacation with no known return date) is just too stressful. Plus, I hate starting something and not finishing it, except in the case of painting the entire living room white, which has sat half finished (ok, one wall is done) for weeks now with painting supplies strewn all over. I also admit that I started painting my kitchen cabinets and now some don’t have doors, some are one color and others are the original color. Ok, so I’m sure there’s some deeper meaning to that not getting done.
Ok, so I actually started this blog entry when I had someplace to go in 4 hours, but now (because of constant interruptions) I have to leave in like 20 minutes. See! This is why I don’t do things when I have to go places because now I really don’t have a funny way of ending this blog because of the stress.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Things I forgot today
This morning when I tried to set the house alarm when we went to work, it wouldn’t arm. It helps if I close the back door, which I left WIDE open. Thankfully the alarm system didn’t mind me cursing it when it didn’t arm, thus pointing out my stupidity in silence when I discovered the back door open.
I came home for lunch and set aside some file folders to take to work with me. Yep, they were still sitting on my computer desk when I got home after work.
I blame this all on not remembering to take my Zyrtec. I refuse to believe that Alzheimers commercial that pretty much gave me a laundry list of signs that fit me to a “T”. Nope, can’t be that, I’m much too young to be going senile, although the stupidity of others is sucking the life blood from me. Its probably the lack of life blood to the brain that is causing all this forgetfulness.
I came home for lunch and set aside some file folders to take to work with me. Yep, they were still sitting on my computer desk when I got home after work.
I blame this all on not remembering to take my Zyrtec. I refuse to believe that Alzheimers commercial that pretty much gave me a laundry list of signs that fit me to a “T”. Nope, can’t be that, I’m much too young to be going senile, although the stupidity of others is sucking the life blood from me. Its probably the lack of life blood to the brain that is causing all this forgetfulness.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Distracted
Today I finished off the last bit of the taxes, going over them to make sure that TurboTax didn’t botch something up or anything. Dragging hubby by the ear, I made him sit down and sign them so I could get them in the mail and then anxiously wait on my whatever bribe name they’re calling it money to be sent in May. While the government wants me to go out and spend that on new junk, I think I’ll use it to pay down on a credit card that I used to buy old junk, which I’m sure will disappoint our Nation’s leaders, but screw them.
After that traumatic experience, I decided to go get some groceries so off I went, driving to the store. Got out of the truck, started walking to the store and thought “gee, my bag is awful light”. Yep, I had taken my wallet out and forgot to put it back in.
Its funny how you can drive like a loony to the store when all along you didn’t have your drivers license with you, but on the way back you feel as though your truck has a bullseye on it for the police to find you, and you drive like a 90 year old cataract patient.
Got home and I almost said screw it about going back. Its raining and cold here today, just overall gloomy and I really didn’t feel like going all the way back (3 whole miles) to the store, but I did. My main motivation was the fact that our milk was expiring and I wouldn’t have any to make latte. Frankly if we had nothing to eat in the house buy dog food, but we had milk, I wouldn’t go to the store, but when that milk gets close to expiring, the wonders of motivation.
I managed to get the two things we really needed: milk, bread, and entemann’s donuts. Ok, we didn’t really need the donuts, but after taxes I felt that I actually did NEED them, and they do go well with milk, so why not.
After that traumatic experience, I decided to go get some groceries so off I went, driving to the store. Got out of the truck, started walking to the store and thought “gee, my bag is awful light”. Yep, I had taken my wallet out and forgot to put it back in.
Its funny how you can drive like a loony to the store when all along you didn’t have your drivers license with you, but on the way back you feel as though your truck has a bullseye on it for the police to find you, and you drive like a 90 year old cataract patient.
Got home and I almost said screw it about going back. Its raining and cold here today, just overall gloomy and I really didn’t feel like going all the way back (3 whole miles) to the store, but I did. My main motivation was the fact that our milk was expiring and I wouldn’t have any to make latte. Frankly if we had nothing to eat in the house buy dog food, but we had milk, I wouldn’t go to the store, but when that milk gets close to expiring, the wonders of motivation.
I managed to get the two things we really needed: milk, bread, and entemann’s donuts. Ok, we didn’t really need the donuts, but after taxes I felt that I actually did NEED them, and they do go well with milk, so why not.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Damn Them Shows
Goaded by those “do it yourself” shows I’ve been watching lately, I had gotten in the mood to make my kitchen look less 1970. Consulting a friend of mine on the proper way to actually paint over laminate, we determined that a few coats of primer, then a nice semi-gloss would do the trick and turn my off white laminate counter door fronts into brown.
Ok, so its going well, slowly, but well as the brown paint takes a LOOONG time to dry versus the two coats of primer. In between drying stages, hubby and I pondered the old furniture upstairs and what we could do to make that area an actual living room, versus a willy nilly dump for crappy old pee stained furniture. (Please note, we have dogs therefore it is not US that is peeing on the furniture... just wanted to be clear on that)
In a fit of exuberance, I made a bulk garbage pick up appointment and we hauled EVERYTHING out of the living room and onto the curb. Free of all furniture, it seems the perfect time to steam clean the carpet and paint up there now. Hubby wants all white. Um, boring, but ok, whatever, that’s fine. Now in between priming and painting the kitchen cupboard doors, I’m also priming the entryway and living room. I must say that I’m doing this gleefully for some reason, as change is good, the color may have been a bit gloomy (sand... its sorta brown, sorta green, but not really any known color at all). The house is in total disarray, half-assed primed, cupboard doors off in the kitchen, spackle spots all over the walls that need sanding and no furniture in the living room. Oh, did I mention the gigantic stinky pee spot where the couch use to be... yeah, that’s nasty and requires some major stink remover, which one of the dogs decided to roll himself in, thus transferring the stink remover smell and the pee smell to his entire body.
Why don’t they have home owners chasing their dogs to bathe them after rolling in pee and stink remover on those home remodeling shows? Why don’t they show the home owner backing into a freshly primed wall, leaving a remarkable butt print on the wall? Why don’t they show the home owners running out of primer and leaving the entryway half done for a week until the weekend gets here, which is the only time they have to do their home remodeling crap? Where are my workmen with the fancy tools and unending strength and stamina? Why am I popping Ibuprofen because the arms only used for typing are ready to fall off from rolling on primer?
It looks so simple on tv.
P.S. I just want to say that the oderless KILZ primer actually does smell... like dirty feet, really dirty feet, its NASTY and not only is it nasty smelling, but its oil-based and impossible to get off of anything, so just go with the regular latex stinky version of KILZ if you use that brand, you’ll thank me later.
Ok, so its going well, slowly, but well as the brown paint takes a LOOONG time to dry versus the two coats of primer. In between drying stages, hubby and I pondered the old furniture upstairs and what we could do to make that area an actual living room, versus a willy nilly dump for crappy old pee stained furniture. (Please note, we have dogs therefore it is not US that is peeing on the furniture... just wanted to be clear on that)
In a fit of exuberance, I made a bulk garbage pick up appointment and we hauled EVERYTHING out of the living room and onto the curb. Free of all furniture, it seems the perfect time to steam clean the carpet and paint up there now. Hubby wants all white. Um, boring, but ok, whatever, that’s fine. Now in between priming and painting the kitchen cupboard doors, I’m also priming the entryway and living room. I must say that I’m doing this gleefully for some reason, as change is good, the color may have been a bit gloomy (sand... its sorta brown, sorta green, but not really any known color at all). The house is in total disarray, half-assed primed, cupboard doors off in the kitchen, spackle spots all over the walls that need sanding and no furniture in the living room. Oh, did I mention the gigantic stinky pee spot where the couch use to be... yeah, that’s nasty and requires some major stink remover, which one of the dogs decided to roll himself in, thus transferring the stink remover smell and the pee smell to his entire body.
Why don’t they have home owners chasing their dogs to bathe them after rolling in pee and stink remover on those home remodeling shows? Why don’t they show the home owner backing into a freshly primed wall, leaving a remarkable butt print on the wall? Why don’t they show the home owners running out of primer and leaving the entryway half done for a week until the weekend gets here, which is the only time they have to do their home remodeling crap? Where are my workmen with the fancy tools and unending strength and stamina? Why am I popping Ibuprofen because the arms only used for typing are ready to fall off from rolling on primer?
It looks so simple on tv.
P.S. I just want to say that the oderless KILZ primer actually does smell... like dirty feet, really dirty feet, its NASTY and not only is it nasty smelling, but its oil-based and impossible to get off of anything, so just go with the regular latex stinky version of KILZ if you use that brand, you’ll thank me later.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Just a test
Testing to see if MacJournal will upload images to blogger... nope, still doesn’t do that
Sunday, February 10, 2008
I Don't Like Wind
Our winter has... sucked. We really haven’t even had a winter. Sure, there was snow for about 10 minutes, then it melted and got to 60 degrees, but for the most part its been more spring than winter all winter.
Instead of the nice fluffy snow closing work and schools and getting us a day off, we’ve had wind. I hate wind. I have trees in the backyard and frankly they don’t look like very sturdy trees. We had them pruned recently, and thankfully because we’ve had some wind storms that rival some hurricanes. Nice 55 mph gusts that rattle everything and fling your garbage can lid miles down the road, never to be seen again. Not only do your recycle items disappear from your bin, but large branches come tumbling down off the not very sturdy looking trees.
I sit and wait for that tell tale crash of a tree in our house. I say its only a matter of time and the tree is trying to pick the most inconvenient time to hurl itself into the roof of our house, destroying the wonderful new deck, and perhaps even ripping off the entire kitchen. Ok, while a major inconvenience I would forever be rid of those nasty cupboards, but is it worth the hassle?
My biggest fear is having the dogs outside and having a huge branch fall and squish or impale them. That’s a HUGE fear of mine, one the dogs sense because the moment I decide that I need them to come inside before an entire tree falls and impales and squishes them... they decide to ignore me and play. Oh yeah, there I am, screaming for them to come into the house the very second, you get in here, come here, come here!!! They are laughing at me and chasing each other around the massive parts of trees that have already fallen. Oh its great fun for them to totally ignore my shrieking and dancing. At one point I ran into the house, got a slice of bread (something they usually can’t resist) and was shrieking, dancing, and waving a slice of bread.
I’m sure that our neighbors feel we could possibly be mentally disturbed and perhaps a tad bit dangerous from our strange yard rituals:
chasing a dog that caught an adult squirrel around the yard while wearing a robe and rubber boots
chasing a dog that caught a mole, who then passes it to another dog, and then over to another dog like precision soccer players, while wearing a robe and rubber boots.
Standing in the yard in a robe and no boots screaming “DON’T EAT THE POOP”
Kneeling in the yard wearing a robe, rubber boots and rubber gloves while sifting through poop to see if the (insert strange item here) has passed safely through the digestive tract.
So, I’m guessing that the shrieking, frantic neighbor waving a slice of bread is just another day in wackytown.
They did eventually come in, one at a time, laughing at me and getting their bread treat. Now I let them out one at a time, and this makes them very angry.
The wind is suppose to be dying down soon. Soon isn’t soon enough for me.
Instead of the nice fluffy snow closing work and schools and getting us a day off, we’ve had wind. I hate wind. I have trees in the backyard and frankly they don’t look like very sturdy trees. We had them pruned recently, and thankfully because we’ve had some wind storms that rival some hurricanes. Nice 55 mph gusts that rattle everything and fling your garbage can lid miles down the road, never to be seen again. Not only do your recycle items disappear from your bin, but large branches come tumbling down off the not very sturdy looking trees.
I sit and wait for that tell tale crash of a tree in our house. I say its only a matter of time and the tree is trying to pick the most inconvenient time to hurl itself into the roof of our house, destroying the wonderful new deck, and perhaps even ripping off the entire kitchen. Ok, while a major inconvenience I would forever be rid of those nasty cupboards, but is it worth the hassle?
My biggest fear is having the dogs outside and having a huge branch fall and squish or impale them. That’s a HUGE fear of mine, one the dogs sense because the moment I decide that I need them to come inside before an entire tree falls and impales and squishes them... they decide to ignore me and play. Oh yeah, there I am, screaming for them to come into the house the very second, you get in here, come here, come here!!! They are laughing at me and chasing each other around the massive parts of trees that have already fallen. Oh its great fun for them to totally ignore my shrieking and dancing. At one point I ran into the house, got a slice of bread (something they usually can’t resist) and was shrieking, dancing, and waving a slice of bread.
I’m sure that our neighbors feel we could possibly be mentally disturbed and perhaps a tad bit dangerous from our strange yard rituals:
chasing a dog that caught an adult squirrel around the yard while wearing a robe and rubber boots
chasing a dog that caught a mole, who then passes it to another dog, and then over to another dog like precision soccer players, while wearing a robe and rubber boots.
Standing in the yard in a robe and no boots screaming “DON’T EAT THE POOP”
Kneeling in the yard wearing a robe, rubber boots and rubber gloves while sifting through poop to see if the (insert strange item here) has passed safely through the digestive tract.
So, I’m guessing that the shrieking, frantic neighbor waving a slice of bread is just another day in wackytown.
They did eventually come in, one at a time, laughing at me and getting their bread treat. Now I let them out one at a time, and this makes them very angry.
The wind is suppose to be dying down soon. Soon isn’t soon enough for me.
Friday, February 8, 2008
No surprise here
You Are Ani Difranco! |
 Honest, real, and well liked. You're not limited by any boundaries. "And you can call me crazy But I think you're as lazy as white paint on the wall" |
Friday, January 25, 2008
Texas UFOs (aka: all this technology and nothing for YouTube?)
Back in the day when video cameras were these HUGE beasts that took 6,000 batteries and used that crappy reel to reel tape stuff, and cameras were just as archaic and used that “film” stuff and had to be developed, we seemed to have a LOT of UFO pictures and films coming out.
Sure, only the rich who could afford such fancy technology like a motion picture film camera could capture those elusive UFOs, yetis and exploding President’s brains, but still, UFO mania seemed to be all over with grainy pictures or film of strange lights in the sky.
Here we are now in the mondo technology state, where just about every cell phone has a camera and even video camera, everyone is a videographer, everyone is a walking iReporter and yet... no new tangible UFO evidence. I would think that with the entire population of the US walking around armed with cameras, that we’d be able to shoot a UFO every single day, and crystal clear UFO pictures.
Wasn’t there a place in Florida called Gulf Breeze that was suppose to be the hotbed of UFO activity, with those little space aliens whizzing through the skies on a daily basis? Funny how they knew the jig was up when everyone got their new camera phone and stopped zooming through the skies. Yeah, not so common now are they?
Recently there was a HUGE Texas UFO sighting, where apparently every resident in some small town witnessed an amazing light show and you’re telling me that NOBODY got that on film? Are you kidding me? UFOs are now smart enough to pick low income towns to do their whizzing and hovering because they know the residents can’t afford those fancy cell phones with a camera?
I did notice that Big Foot has moved to Mars though, so at least we don’t have to deal with grainy sightings of it any more.
Sure, only the rich who could afford such fancy technology like a motion picture film camera could capture those elusive UFOs, yetis and exploding President’s brains, but still, UFO mania seemed to be all over with grainy pictures or film of strange lights in the sky.
Here we are now in the mondo technology state, where just about every cell phone has a camera and even video camera, everyone is a videographer, everyone is a walking iReporter and yet... no new tangible UFO evidence. I would think that with the entire population of the US walking around armed with cameras, that we’d be able to shoot a UFO every single day, and crystal clear UFO pictures.
Wasn’t there a place in Florida called Gulf Breeze that was suppose to be the hotbed of UFO activity, with those little space aliens whizzing through the skies on a daily basis? Funny how they knew the jig was up when everyone got their new camera phone and stopped zooming through the skies. Yeah, not so common now are they?
Recently there was a HUGE Texas UFO sighting, where apparently every resident in some small town witnessed an amazing light show and you’re telling me that NOBODY got that on film? Are you kidding me? UFOs are now smart enough to pick low income towns to do their whizzing and hovering because they know the residents can’t afford those fancy cell phones with a camera?
I did notice that Big Foot has moved to Mars though, so at least we don’t have to deal with grainy sightings of it any more.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
2007 In Review
Personally, 2007 couldn’t suck enough. I’m trying to be optimistic about 2008, but we’re looking at the same people in office, the same wars and maybe even some new ones, taxes... oh joy can’t wait, and generally another year of slogging through the job I hate, with people I can’t stand, among other things.
I remember as a kid that New Year stood for a year where anything could be possible. It was a fresh start and anything was up for grabs. Back then I couldn’t understand why adults partied hard, got trashed on alcohol and woke up feeling horrible the next day. To my undeveloped mind, I couldn’t fathom how being hung over would be a good way to get the jump on all things possible of the new year.
Yeah, now I know. I’m an adult now. I see how bleak and daunting a new year is after suffering through the old one. Knowing that life isn’t a fairy tale or a movie, a new year only means more of the same, except one more year of it, one more year of suffering. There will be no prince charming coming to sweep us up and plop us in a rent or mortgage free castle where we fritter the day away dancing and being waited on hand and foot in the lap of luxury. Nope, none of that. We won’t win the lottery, not unless we’re really old and have a house full of cats. We won’t get a last minute phone call that saves the house from foreclosure, pays off all the bills and gets gifts for all the kids who went without for christmas (mainly because we don’t have kids, the house isn’t about to be foreclosed, etc. but you know what I mean).
Nope, what we face in 2008 is the simplicity of life.
Tax time is right around the corner, that’s something to really look forward to.
Going back to work on 2 January 2008 and realizing that nothing has changed, it still sucks... when is the next holiday?
Cleaning house, paying bills, fixing dinner, doing laundry... same as it ever was.
As an adult, you realize that this is it. This is all that there is of life. Its a wonder there aren’t more suicides on New Year’s Eve.
I remember as a kid that New Year stood for a year where anything could be possible. It was a fresh start and anything was up for grabs. Back then I couldn’t understand why adults partied hard, got trashed on alcohol and woke up feeling horrible the next day. To my undeveloped mind, I couldn’t fathom how being hung over would be a good way to get the jump on all things possible of the new year.
Yeah, now I know. I’m an adult now. I see how bleak and daunting a new year is after suffering through the old one. Knowing that life isn’t a fairy tale or a movie, a new year only means more of the same, except one more year of it, one more year of suffering. There will be no prince charming coming to sweep us up and plop us in a rent or mortgage free castle where we fritter the day away dancing and being waited on hand and foot in the lap of luxury. Nope, none of that. We won’t win the lottery, not unless we’re really old and have a house full of cats. We won’t get a last minute phone call that saves the house from foreclosure, pays off all the bills and gets gifts for all the kids who went without for christmas (mainly because we don’t have kids, the house isn’t about to be foreclosed, etc. but you know what I mean).
Nope, what we face in 2008 is the simplicity of life.
Tax time is right around the corner, that’s something to really look forward to.
Going back to work on 2 January 2008 and realizing that nothing has changed, it still sucks... when is the next holiday?
Cleaning house, paying bills, fixing dinner, doing laundry... same as it ever was.
As an adult, you realize that this is it. This is all that there is of life. Its a wonder there aren’t more suicides on New Year’s Eve.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Jonesing for some latte
I’m addicted, I admit it, the Starbucks empire has me.
I recently quit smoking, I’m using the Chantix pill and despite the horror warnings of people killing loved ones, or throwing themselves off buildings, the only side effect I’ve really had is bloating and horrible gas. Ok, I also have the vivid dreams and last night I was David Letterman’s only audience member because he was coming back from the strike and had no material, so we hung out for a while in some fancy apartment. He also offered me a job because apparently he also owns large government consulting firms. Hey, its much better than the dream where our neighbors stole our fence and I woke up totally pissed at the neighbors.
Having given up smoking (kicking and screaming) I now find that I have to get a new habit. Its common for recovering alcoholics to start smoking. I’m guessing that since alcohol would only increase the need to light up, most former smokers take to chugging vast amounts of coffee. Well, I can’t exactly say “most former smokers” because I haven’t paid some consulting firm a zillion dollars to actually prove that, but I’ll be generous and save the taxpayers some money and go out on a limb and say it. If a former smoker is not a coffee drinker and wants to sue me for misrepresenting them, then have fun with that. Don’t expect the mother lode of settlement pay-offs, as all of my money is going to Starbucks.
My dear husband is not only supplementing his former smoking bad habit by drinking vast amounts of latte with me, but he’s also hopelessly addicted to World of Warcraft (as apparently 9 million other people are to, so I can go out on a limb and say that the majority of people hate their lives and prefer to live in pretend-land). His addiction to WoW is what has me jonesing for latte at the moment. You see, he stays up all night on the weekends to play, then sleeps all day. He just got up around 3 p.m. today. I’ve been sitting here, patiently waiting for him to wake up, sipping unsatisfying coffee, all dressed, shoes on, sitting, tapping a foot, wanting a latte.
Ok fine, I’m an adult, I have a driver’s license and a real vehicle, I should have gone out hours ago and sucked down at least 2 lattes while he slept. I have no idea why that thought didn’t occur to me hours ago. Maybe I’ll go get some new bathroom rugs while I’m out.
I recently quit smoking, I’m using the Chantix pill and despite the horror warnings of people killing loved ones, or throwing themselves off buildings, the only side effect I’ve really had is bloating and horrible gas. Ok, I also have the vivid dreams and last night I was David Letterman’s only audience member because he was coming back from the strike and had no material, so we hung out for a while in some fancy apartment. He also offered me a job because apparently he also owns large government consulting firms. Hey, its much better than the dream where our neighbors stole our fence and I woke up totally pissed at the neighbors.
Having given up smoking (kicking and screaming) I now find that I have to get a new habit. Its common for recovering alcoholics to start smoking. I’m guessing that since alcohol would only increase the need to light up, most former smokers take to chugging vast amounts of coffee. Well, I can’t exactly say “most former smokers” because I haven’t paid some consulting firm a zillion dollars to actually prove that, but I’ll be generous and save the taxpayers some money and go out on a limb and say it. If a former smoker is not a coffee drinker and wants to sue me for misrepresenting them, then have fun with that. Don’t expect the mother lode of settlement pay-offs, as all of my money is going to Starbucks.
My dear husband is not only supplementing his former smoking bad habit by drinking vast amounts of latte with me, but he’s also hopelessly addicted to World of Warcraft (as apparently 9 million other people are to, so I can go out on a limb and say that the majority of people hate their lives and prefer to live in pretend-land). His addiction to WoW is what has me jonesing for latte at the moment. You see, he stays up all night on the weekends to play, then sleeps all day. He just got up around 3 p.m. today. I’ve been sitting here, patiently waiting for him to wake up, sipping unsatisfying coffee, all dressed, shoes on, sitting, tapping a foot, wanting a latte.
Ok fine, I’m an adult, I have a driver’s license and a real vehicle, I should have gone out hours ago and sucked down at least 2 lattes while he slept. I have no idea why that thought didn’t occur to me hours ago. Maybe I’ll go get some new bathroom rugs while I’m out.
Monday, November 26, 2007
The Most Complete Idiot
I was driving home today after an especially horrible day at work... lately every day at work is an especially horrible day, as I hate my current job, and to make my mood even more foul, I heard a radio commercial for the local tv station say that they brought their viewers “the most complete news”.
The dumbing down of america at its finest. Saying that you bring your viewers “the complete news” isn’t good enough, they have to bring their viewers “the most complete news”. If you don’t understand why this statement is the most stupid statement there is, here is dictionary.com’s definition of complete:
1. having all parts or elements; lacking nothing; whole; entire; full: a complete set of Mark Twain's writings.
2. finished; ended; concluded: a complete orbit.
3. having all the required or customary characteristics, skills, or the like; consummate; perfect in kind or quality: a complete scholar.
Ok, so complete means: nothing is missing. If nothing is missing, then how can you possibly have the most complete? That’s like saying that you’ve completed a jigsaw puzzle, which means every piece is there. How can you have the most complete jigsaw puzzle?
New and improved. How can you improve on something that is new and why?
About a month ago, hubby and I happened to turn the channel and find a movie called: Idiocracy and we sat and watched it with eyes wide open. Sure, its a stupid movie, but its also genius, honest, and only a few years from actually being the way our society lives. Scarily enough, we found a lot of the behaviors in this movie to be present day. Sure it was a bit over the top, but after viewing it, then venturing out into the world we felt as though we were living it.
Hearing an ad proudly proclaim that they provide the most complete news... one step closer ... one step that much closer.
The dumbing down of america at its finest. Saying that you bring your viewers “the complete news” isn’t good enough, they have to bring their viewers “the most complete news”. If you don’t understand why this statement is the most stupid statement there is, here is dictionary.com’s definition of complete:
1. having all parts or elements; lacking nothing; whole; entire; full: a complete set of Mark Twain's writings.
2. finished; ended; concluded: a complete orbit.
3. having all the required or customary characteristics, skills, or the like; consummate; perfect in kind or quality: a complete scholar.
Ok, so complete means: nothing is missing. If nothing is missing, then how can you possibly have the most complete? That’s like saying that you’ve completed a jigsaw puzzle, which means every piece is there. How can you have the most complete jigsaw puzzle?
New and improved. How can you improve on something that is new and why?
About a month ago, hubby and I happened to turn the channel and find a movie called: Idiocracy and we sat and watched it with eyes wide open. Sure, its a stupid movie, but its also genius, honest, and only a few years from actually being the way our society lives. Scarily enough, we found a lot of the behaviors in this movie to be present day. Sure it was a bit over the top, but after viewing it, then venturing out into the world we felt as though we were living it.
Hearing an ad proudly proclaim that they provide the most complete news... one step closer ... one step that much closer.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Black Friday
Last night hubby and I pondered whether we should get up early and camp out at the local mall to photograph the insane people pushing, screaming, and killing each other to buy cheap goods. It would make for a good photo, the blurred hoardes pushing inside for the bargains (that will be there later), but we decided that the risk of being killed in the rush and risking ruining a very expensive camera wasn’t worth it. We opted to sleep in and then later went out to shoot old abandoned homes.
Before that, I went out back and shot film of the dogs in their natural habitat: chasing each other willy nilly through the yard. This is where I found out that photography is a contact sport (depending on your subjects) and photography is painful. First off, I lost my balance and kneeled hard on some uneven concrete, which caused massive amounts of knee pain. I got up to rub my knee and Loki thought I was trying to get him to play, so he body slammed me and nearly knocked me over.
Then, as I was kneeling to get a cool pic of Sam sitting, Loki decided that I wanted him to run at me full force and push me with both his front feet, which knocked my into the deck support with my elbow. Yeah, the “Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t want me to do that” kisses from Loki were nice, but it didn’t help much. Despite the pain, I got some good shots.
The abandoned building shoot was pretty cool. We had seen this abandoned fruit stand for a long time and decided to stop and take some pictures and only realized when we started walking into the back of it that there were about 6 abandoned houses back there. Its like a whole little community that died. Pretty sad when you think of the homeless situation and all, that here are 6 houses that at one time were someone’s homes (wonder what happened to the families that lived there) and now they were total wrecks and abandoned. We wondered why, most likely because of the big highway they threw up in their back yard, but still, its very strange how something like that can sit unnoticed and rot.
It was a pretty good shoot. I tend to take pictures of the strange things I find, not your normal shots, and was very interested in the designs of broken glass this outing. You can check out my latest shoot of the abandoned buildings and the dogs here.
Right now I’m very tired from being out in the wind and cold. We then went to Panera to get a soup bread bowl and after eating that and getting a latte, I’m ready for a nap. I’m also sitting here with the feeling that I should be doing something, but I don’t know what. I’m sure it’ll come to me, or it won’t. Either way, I’m too tired to do whatever it is anyway.
Before that, I went out back and shot film of the dogs in their natural habitat: chasing each other willy nilly through the yard. This is where I found out that photography is a contact sport (depending on your subjects) and photography is painful. First off, I lost my balance and kneeled hard on some uneven concrete, which caused massive amounts of knee pain. I got up to rub my knee and Loki thought I was trying to get him to play, so he body slammed me and nearly knocked me over.
Then, as I was kneeling to get a cool pic of Sam sitting, Loki decided that I wanted him to run at me full force and push me with both his front feet, which knocked my into the deck support with my elbow. Yeah, the “Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t want me to do that” kisses from Loki were nice, but it didn’t help much. Despite the pain, I got some good shots.
The abandoned building shoot was pretty cool. We had seen this abandoned fruit stand for a long time and decided to stop and take some pictures and only realized when we started walking into the back of it that there were about 6 abandoned houses back there. Its like a whole little community that died. Pretty sad when you think of the homeless situation and all, that here are 6 houses that at one time were someone’s homes (wonder what happened to the families that lived there) and now they were total wrecks and abandoned. We wondered why, most likely because of the big highway they threw up in their back yard, but still, its very strange how something like that can sit unnoticed and rot.
It was a pretty good shoot. I tend to take pictures of the strange things I find, not your normal shots, and was very interested in the designs of broken glass this outing. You can check out my latest shoot of the abandoned buildings and the dogs here.
Right now I’m very tired from being out in the wind and cold. We then went to Panera to get a soup bread bowl and after eating that and getting a latte, I’m ready for a nap. I’m also sitting here with the feeling that I should be doing something, but I don’t know what. I’m sure it’ll come to me, or it won’t. Either way, I’m too tired to do whatever it is anyway.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Thanksgiving (or: Night of the Living Bacteria)
I love Thanksgiving. Its about eating and getting together with family. In our case, its all about the eating, the family can just stay all the way across the states for all we care. Ok, fine, if they showed up we wouldn’t throw them out or not answer the door, but still.
For the two of us (five if you count the dogs) I got a 12 pound turkey (hey, shut up, its mostly bones) and a turkey breast for putting on the grill. I got the stuff for the usual side dishes:
Scalloped Corn
Sweet Potatoes (hate them, hubby doesn’t)
Mashed Potatoes (Yum)
Stuffing
Dinner Rolls
Deviled Eggs
Pumpkin Pie
Now this isn’t pre-made stuff, I make all of the side dishes except the mashed potatoes. The Bob Evans Mashed potatoes are actually pretty good stuff, and in a pinch I’ll do the Ore Ida frozen mashed potatoes too, but they had a good selection of the Bob Evans, so I went nuts.
For my job I get to watch a feed of CNN on my computer. Its the ONLY outside world resource that I have, so shut up, I’m actually working I just have to have noise on when I write complex stupid technical documents that nobody will ever read. I’m hoping they come in handy on a cold night and someone needs kindling for a fire.
About a week before thanksgiving CNN played over and over (and over and over and over and over, as CNN does) an interview with some “specialist” on the proper way to cook a turkey. You would think that cooking a turkey was as difficult as defusing a bomb the way this woman went on.
NEVER put the stuffing in the bird, good lord are you insane. All sorts of bad bacteria literally grow right in that stuffing, crawl out onto the bird and will kill your entire family. Um... what? Apparently the “new” thing is that you shouldn’t cook stuffing in a bird. My grandmother cooked stuffing in the bird, my mom cooks stuffing in the bird, I cook stuffing in the bird and nobody in the family has ever doubled over in pain or had to be rushed to the hospital.
Scrub everything the turkey touches or else YOU’LL DIE!!! This woman was obsessive compulsive about the whole cleanliness thing with the bird. She even shined one of those blue lights (most commonly used to identify pee spots as sold in pet stores) to show the reporter all of the gross things that turkey leaves once you set it on a surface. Um, it also picks up dog pee, so how do we know if the reporter lets her dog pee on the kitchen counter? Ok, bad example, but still if her family got sick it wouldn’t be from the turkey.
Wash your hands in really hot water and wash them long enough to sing happy birthday. Um, yeah, I’m not doing that. Oh sure I’m washing my hands, but not after I touch anything, and I’m not singing happy birthday while the flesh of my hands melt under a roasting hot tap. This “expert” had the reporter rubbing, buffing, and scouring every little surface and utensil after each touching of the innocent turkey. She spent more time cleaning than she did prepping the bird.
The last rule was not let anything sit on the counter for more than an hour. If so, throw it out. Ok, this “expert” has never been to my house where pizza boxes have been in the oven for hours on end and been tossed into the fridge, or we’ve left something in the microwave for hours (I do toss it if its been forgotten overnight, I do have some sense) and we’ve never suffered from a food-borne illness.
So, this morning I get up and start the typical prep of the turkey. I had thrown the breast into a vat of brine the day before and dragged out the oven turkey only to find that one of them had seeped into the fridge shelf at some time. I’m sure the “expert” would have run screaming to call a Hazmat team to come decontaminate her entire house and every bit of food in the fridge would be thrown out. I just sopped it up with a paper towel, then spritzed some simple green on there and wiped that up. On to the turkey prep.
Opened the bag in the sink (hey, those things seep in the fridge, wouldn’t want to get that poison on the counter), removed the plastic wrapped innards, rinsed out the bird and threw it in the roaster. Gleefully I spooned heaps of stuffing into it, laughing. Actually did a little dance too. Shoved bird with stuffing in the oven. Cleaned up with another paper towel and simple green and washed my hands in luke warm water for the first stanza of Happy.... done.
Same thing happened when we got the brined breast out and shoved it on the rotisserie stake. Juice and brine all over (the dogs cleaned up what fell on the floor), mopped up what I could with a paper towel.
Once the food was all done, we gorged ourselves silly, I made a pumpkin pie, gorged on that, and now we’re just sitting around waiting for e-coli or something else to kill us.
I tend to think that humans are being born with no immunity to anything. Kids don’t go out and play in the mud and muck anymore, so they don’t build up the tolerance to things that my generation (who dared each other to eat earth worms and bugs and never washed our hands) have built up over the years. We didn’t constantly scrub ourselves with anti-bacterial hand sanitizers, didn’t have anti-bacterial wipes, or soap, we used nasty, gooey sponges for months, used the same cloth kitchen towel to sop up messes of all kinds, and generally didn’t think about all of the horrible microbes that would infest our intestinal tracts. Our intestinal tracts laughed at bacteria and spit them out without a second thought.
So yes, my kitchen isn’t sterile enough to perform surgery in, and my fridge is probably a breeding ground of plague (there’s a can of dog food next to the milk... but its got a lid on it), and I can handle that. If you can’t, then I suggest you don’t eat at my house.
For the two of us (five if you count the dogs) I got a 12 pound turkey (hey, shut up, its mostly bones) and a turkey breast for putting on the grill. I got the stuff for the usual side dishes:
Scalloped Corn
Sweet Potatoes (hate them, hubby doesn’t)
Mashed Potatoes (Yum)
Stuffing
Dinner Rolls
Deviled Eggs
Pumpkin Pie
Now this isn’t pre-made stuff, I make all of the side dishes except the mashed potatoes. The Bob Evans Mashed potatoes are actually pretty good stuff, and in a pinch I’ll do the Ore Ida frozen mashed potatoes too, but they had a good selection of the Bob Evans, so I went nuts.
For my job I get to watch a feed of CNN on my computer. Its the ONLY outside world resource that I have, so shut up, I’m actually working I just have to have noise on when I write complex stupid technical documents that nobody will ever read. I’m hoping they come in handy on a cold night and someone needs kindling for a fire.
About a week before thanksgiving CNN played over and over (and over and over and over and over, as CNN does) an interview with some “specialist” on the proper way to cook a turkey. You would think that cooking a turkey was as difficult as defusing a bomb the way this woman went on.
NEVER put the stuffing in the bird, good lord are you insane. All sorts of bad bacteria literally grow right in that stuffing, crawl out onto the bird and will kill your entire family. Um... what? Apparently the “new” thing is that you shouldn’t cook stuffing in a bird. My grandmother cooked stuffing in the bird, my mom cooks stuffing in the bird, I cook stuffing in the bird and nobody in the family has ever doubled over in pain or had to be rushed to the hospital.
Scrub everything the turkey touches or else YOU’LL DIE!!! This woman was obsessive compulsive about the whole cleanliness thing with the bird. She even shined one of those blue lights (most commonly used to identify pee spots as sold in pet stores) to show the reporter all of the gross things that turkey leaves once you set it on a surface. Um, it also picks up dog pee, so how do we know if the reporter lets her dog pee on the kitchen counter? Ok, bad example, but still if her family got sick it wouldn’t be from the turkey.
Wash your hands in really hot water and wash them long enough to sing happy birthday. Um, yeah, I’m not doing that. Oh sure I’m washing my hands, but not after I touch anything, and I’m not singing happy birthday while the flesh of my hands melt under a roasting hot tap. This “expert” had the reporter rubbing, buffing, and scouring every little surface and utensil after each touching of the innocent turkey. She spent more time cleaning than she did prepping the bird.
The last rule was not let anything sit on the counter for more than an hour. If so, throw it out. Ok, this “expert” has never been to my house where pizza boxes have been in the oven for hours on end and been tossed into the fridge, or we’ve left something in the microwave for hours (I do toss it if its been forgotten overnight, I do have some sense) and we’ve never suffered from a food-borne illness.
So, this morning I get up and start the typical prep of the turkey. I had thrown the breast into a vat of brine the day before and dragged out the oven turkey only to find that one of them had seeped into the fridge shelf at some time. I’m sure the “expert” would have run screaming to call a Hazmat team to come decontaminate her entire house and every bit of food in the fridge would be thrown out. I just sopped it up with a paper towel, then spritzed some simple green on there and wiped that up. On to the turkey prep.
Opened the bag in the sink (hey, those things seep in the fridge, wouldn’t want to get that poison on the counter), removed the plastic wrapped innards, rinsed out the bird and threw it in the roaster. Gleefully I spooned heaps of stuffing into it, laughing. Actually did a little dance too. Shoved bird with stuffing in the oven. Cleaned up with another paper towel and simple green and washed my hands in luke warm water for the first stanza of Happy.... done.
Same thing happened when we got the brined breast out and shoved it on the rotisserie stake. Juice and brine all over (the dogs cleaned up what fell on the floor), mopped up what I could with a paper towel.
Once the food was all done, we gorged ourselves silly, I made a pumpkin pie, gorged on that, and now we’re just sitting around waiting for e-coli or something else to kill us.
I tend to think that humans are being born with no immunity to anything. Kids don’t go out and play in the mud and muck anymore, so they don’t build up the tolerance to things that my generation (who dared each other to eat earth worms and bugs and never washed our hands) have built up over the years. We didn’t constantly scrub ourselves with anti-bacterial hand sanitizers, didn’t have anti-bacterial wipes, or soap, we used nasty, gooey sponges for months, used the same cloth kitchen towel to sop up messes of all kinds, and generally didn’t think about all of the horrible microbes that would infest our intestinal tracts. Our intestinal tracts laughed at bacteria and spit them out without a second thought.
So yes, my kitchen isn’t sterile enough to perform surgery in, and my fridge is probably a breeding ground of plague (there’s a can of dog food next to the milk... but its got a lid on it), and I can handle that. If you can’t, then I suggest you don’t eat at my house.
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