Friday, December 30, 2005
Monday, November 14, 2005
30% Chance
Sigh. There is a 30% chance of snow showers predicted for several days this coming week. Is it that time already? Sigh.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Please! MAKE IT STOP!
So, as stated in several posts, I work at an insect farm. Crickets to be more exact. I work in the office so I normally don't have much contact with the actual bugs. Occasionally, we'll get one or two that sneaks in and starts making noise, but it is quickly tracked down and thrown out the back door. Until recently. This past week the noise has been nearly intolerable. I HATE the sound of crickets. The incessant chirping is like nails on a chalk board to me.
Somehow, we have hundreds in the office. Apparently all adults because they are calling to each other from one corner to another. They hang out on warm spots, like the power supplies for our computers, printers, etc. Out of desperation, I just spent 25 minutes with a dust buster trying to vacuum the ones I could reach. Then I sprayed Lysol in their hiding spots. I normally try to avoid stepping on them at all costs (the snap they make as your shoe crushes them is quite disturbing), but today I have been stomping on them whenever they dare to brave the open carpet.
It is a bit quieter now. Only a handful are chirping. Hopefully, they won't work up to the dull roar they were sustaining a half hour ago.
2:00 Update: So, the Lysol and vacuuming created only a temporary repreve. They are back to chirping at nearly full volume and I am stomping on any that come out of hiding. Glad I only work 3 days a week!! We need weather stripping flaps on the doors to the office to keep them from having free access in - I have suggested this to the office manager this afternoon... We'll see...
Somehow, we have hundreds in the office. Apparently all adults because they are calling to each other from one corner to another. They hang out on warm spots, like the power supplies for our computers, printers, etc. Out of desperation, I just spent 25 minutes with a dust buster trying to vacuum the ones I could reach. Then I sprayed Lysol in their hiding spots. I normally try to avoid stepping on them at all costs (the snap they make as your shoe crushes them is quite disturbing), but today I have been stomping on them whenever they dare to brave the open carpet.
It is a bit quieter now. Only a handful are chirping. Hopefully, they won't work up to the dull roar they were sustaining a half hour ago.
2:00 Update: So, the Lysol and vacuuming created only a temporary repreve. They are back to chirping at nearly full volume and I am stomping on any that come out of hiding. Glad I only work 3 days a week!! We need weather stripping flaps on the doors to the office to keep them from having free access in - I have suggested this to the office manager this afternoon... We'll see...
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Blogger! Hear my plea!
Spell Checker that checks automatically before posting! I write my posts, publish them, re-read them, get an email from CK telling me of the misspellings, and have to go edit and republish them because I forget to spell check.
Spelling has never been my forte (phortae, fortay, fourtay). Sigh.
Spelling has never been my forte (phortae, fortay, fourtay). Sigh.
The Move
We finally moved into our new house yesterday. I think I am too tired to be excited. Give me a few days. We (CK and I) are big procrastinators so we were up until 2:00 am on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning doing last minute packing - until we ran out of boxes. We got most of the heavy/large/important things packed for the movers to move. We still have to go pack some of the kitchen dishes and small appliances, a couple lamps, and the tortoise's 4 foot abode (he is now residing in a very cramped 5 gallon aquarium), but that will wait until tomorrow.
Tonight, we are going to pick the dog up from the pup resort, order some take-out (we are now in delivery areas!!), find a recliner, and watch TV until we fall asleep in the chairs and the dog wakes us up by throwing his water or food dish at us for a refill.
Tonight, we are going to pick the dog up from the pup resort, order some take-out (we are now in delivery areas!!), find a recliner, and watch TV until we fall asleep in the chairs and the dog wakes us up by throwing his water or food dish at us for a refill.
Friday, September 16, 2005
"Is that Ron Jeremy?"
Continuing on our trip to the dreaded Kenosha , WI
Our other required stop during this trip is Villa de Carlos. This is a family owned pizza place down by the shores ofLake Michigan . LB and I grew up eating their pizza and have found it difficult to find any that we like as much (LB lives in Chicago
The dining ambiance and decor is a bit hard to describe. They strive to keep the decorations seasonal, for example, we had a fall theme going during this visit. Additionally, they have the "ol' standby" decorations. The massive amounts of twinkle lights everywhere, the faux birds hanging from the ceiling, the occasional baby deer curled up in a pseudo forest in the corner, and so on.
It is almost always busy. Our wait this evening was estimated to be 45 minutes - and it was already after 8 P.M. After only 25 minutes, we were seated in a horseshoe booth under a canopy of faux forsythia (fauxsythia?) and tree branches. The table is covered in butcher paper and they provide crayons for your dining entertainment. We don't need to look at the menu because LB and I ALWAYS get the same thing. We start with a combo-basket of fried cheese, mushrooms, cheese, zucchini, and did I say cheese? And our pizza is always a hand-tossed pizza with mushrooms, zucchini, and tomato slices. YUM!
As we dined on our fried cheese we observed the crowd in the restaurant. We saw the mullet, the big 80's hair, the blue eye liner, more metal band t-shirts, the lingerie ladies now wear as a shirt (or skirt), the waitress in a tennis skirt, I could continue. It really is like stepping back in time. Anyway, about the time we got our pizza CK looked up and said, "Is that Ron Jeremy?" LB and I turned and gawked. Standing below the array of twinkle lights was a man wearing a tuxedo t-shirt who looked very much like the infamous Ron Jeremy. For those of you wondering, "Who is this man she refers to?” he is a "star" of not-so-nice films. We know him from VH1's show The Surreal Life. Needlesstosay, it was not. Although we were compelled to grab the camera phone and snap a picture so we could blog about it! The pic also shows a little bit of the decor. Enjoy. :)
Our other required stop during this trip is Villa de Carlos. This is a family owned pizza place down by the shores of
The dining ambiance and decor is a bit hard to describe. They strive to keep the decorations seasonal, for example, we had a fall theme going during this visit. Additionally, they have the "ol' standby" decorations. The massive amounts of twinkle lights everywhere, the faux birds hanging from the ceiling, the occasional baby deer curled up in a pseudo forest in the corner, and so on.
It is almost always busy. Our wait this evening was estimated to be 45 minutes - and it was already after 8 P.M. After only 25 minutes, we were seated in a horseshoe booth under a canopy of faux forsythia (fauxsythia?) and tree branches. The table is covered in butcher paper and they provide crayons for your dining entertainment. We don't need to look at the menu because LB and I ALWAYS get the same thing. We start with a combo-basket of fried cheese, mushrooms, cheese, zucchini, and did I say cheese? And our pizza is always a hand-tossed pizza with mushrooms, zucchini, and tomato slices. YUM!
As we dined on our fried cheese we observed the crowd in the restaurant. We saw the mullet, the big 80's hair, the blue eye liner, more metal band t-shirts, the lingerie ladies now wear as a shirt (or skirt), the waitress in a tennis skirt, I could continue. It really is like stepping back in time. Anyway, about the time we got our pizza CK looked up and said, "Is that Ron Jeremy?" LB and I turned and gawked. Standing below the array of twinkle lights was a man wearing a tuxedo t-shirt who looked very much like the infamous Ron Jeremy. For those of you wondering, "Who is this man she refers to?” he is a "star" of not-so-nice films. We know him from VH1's show The Surreal Life. Needlesstosay, it was not. Although we were compelled to grab the camera phone and snap a picture so we could blog about it! The pic also shows a little bit of the decor. Enjoy. :)
Friday, September 09, 2005
Returning home.
This weekend we are going to Kenosha, Wisconsin. I always have mixed emotions about returning to the town where I lived from 6th grade until I graduated high school and moved away for college and never moved back.
Anyone who has visited or lived and left Kenosha knows that it sometimes can seem like you have stepped back in time. Located halfway between Milwaukee and Chicago, one would think the city would be progressing with current times; then they try to find a radio station that plays music dating past 1990. Any given day, you can drive around town and see black metal t-shirts, mullets, and long "80's hair band" hair. I find it creepy.
On the other hand, the city has done many things to improve the area and make it quite nice. The downtown area has gone from hobo-lane (as it was when I was young) to a very quaint, nice area. The lake and marina area has been improved and is unrecognizable to what I am used to.
That said, I look forward to Carl's Pizza and The Spot fried mushrooms and cheese (ahh, Wisconsin fried cheese). We are going to the Keno drive-in theater tonight (this could be fun or just too weird - we'll see).
You are probably wondering why we are going in the first place (the pizza is my favorite, but that isn't the main reason). We are going to see my grandma who is in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's. She doesn't really know who we are, but we visit because it makes her happy to have visitors.
So, we (me and my sister) return to the dreaded Kenosha.
Anyone who has visited or lived and left Kenosha knows that it sometimes can seem like you have stepped back in time. Located halfway between Milwaukee and Chicago, one would think the city would be progressing with current times; then they try to find a radio station that plays music dating past 1990. Any given day, you can drive around town and see black metal t-shirts, mullets, and long "80's hair band" hair. I find it creepy.
On the other hand, the city has done many things to improve the area and make it quite nice. The downtown area has gone from hobo-lane (as it was when I was young) to a very quaint, nice area. The lake and marina area has been improved and is unrecognizable to what I am used to.
That said, I look forward to Carl's Pizza and The Spot fried mushrooms and cheese (ahh, Wisconsin fried cheese). We are going to the Keno drive-in theater tonight (this could be fun or just too weird - we'll see).
You are probably wondering why we are going in the first place (the pizza is my favorite, but that isn't the main reason). We are going to see my grandma who is in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's. She doesn't really know who we are, but we visit because it makes her happy to have visitors.
So, we (me and my sister) return to the dreaded Kenosha.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Labor Day Grilling
A few years back, my mother moved in with us for 6 months. This is a long story which I won't get into here, but let it just be said that it was not a pleasant situation. My mother is a compulsive hoarder. After she had moved out (and I use this term loosely, since most of her junk still resided in my pole barn) my sister and I spent a weekend sorting (i.e. throwing most everything out) her 2,500 lbs (literally, the movers weighed it) of junk that was still being stored in the barn. Upon our sorting, we came across this bag [shown below].
Now that I am moving and we spent another weekend sorting through the rest of her stuff and weeding out our own, I ran across the bag again and thought it needed to be shared.
Have a hot dog on me for Labor Day.
Now that I am moving and we spent another weekend sorting through the rest of her stuff and weeding out our own, I ran across the bag again and thought it needed to be shared.
Have a hot dog on me for Labor Day.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
I am disgusted.
During this tragic cleanup of the aftermath of hurricane Katrina, I am absolutely disgusted watching videos of people looting the deserted stores. I guess I am not surprised that it is happening, just saddened that these people care more about themselves than other human beings who are trapped, injured, and dying within walking distance. On every news channel you watch people laugh and celebrate as they ROB a store while being videotaped. The latest video showed two police officers participating! It turns my stomach and I hope in the years to come at least some of these people can be brought to justice from the videos. Especially the cops.
That said, I should add that our thoughts and prayers are with the rest of the people who have been affected by this storm (including my sister-in-law in Mobile, AL and my other sister-in-law in Birmingham, AL and their families).
That said, I should add that our thoughts and prayers are with the rest of the people who have been affected by this storm (including my sister-in-law in Mobile, AL and my other sister-in-law in Birmingham, AL and their families).
Friday, August 26, 2005
Against my better judgment...
In a previous post I ranted about forwarded emails. I am breaking my rule today an posting one which I just received. Having recently had a similar experience, (although not in the same "area" as the one in the story, thankfully) I found it hilarious.
You must be forewarned, it is a bit graphic, but not in a dirty way.
One Woman's Tale of Woe
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epi-lady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, and play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinary.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the was strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!
There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip!
I touch.
I am touching wax.
CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.
Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
OH NO!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut!
Butt?? Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? *WRONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or who-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, l but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.
I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
You must be forewarned, it is a bit graphic, but not in a dirty way.
One Woman's Tale of Woe
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epi-lady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, and play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinary.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the was strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!
There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip!
I touch.
I am touching wax.
CRAP! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.
Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
OH NO!!!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut!
Butt?? Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? *WRONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or who-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, l but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.
I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Should I be concerned?
This is a label I found enclosed with a little plastic mat I use for cutting frames. I guess since I don't live in California and I don't intend to eat the mat, I can reserve my concern for something more important.
Has it really been a month?
Wow, how time flies. I haven't dumped the blog, I've just been quite busy. Not that it matters, since only about 5 people read this anyway (and 4 are relatives).
What's keeping me busy?
1.) Frame orders. I've been working on another order of 300.
2.) My real job. Selling bugs takes time.
3.) We are buying a house (my exciting news from a previous post). It is closer to work for both of us and Mr. B will have his own fenced yard to low-butt-run to his heart's desire.
4.) Relating to #3, I am trying to get the house packed. We move in less than a month and I refuse to procrastinate until the last minute (like I normally do).
I'll try to keep on top of my musings for my loyal fans. :)
What's keeping me busy?
1.) Frame orders. I've been working on another order of 300.
2.) My real job. Selling bugs takes time.
3.) We are buying a house (my exciting news from a previous post). It is closer to work for both of us and Mr. B will have his own fenced yard to low-butt-run to his heart's desire.
4.) Relating to #3, I am trying to get the house packed. We move in less than a month and I refuse to procrastinate until the last minute (like I normally do).
I'll try to keep on top of my musings for my loyal fans. :)
Friday, July 22, 2005
Oh, Please Stop!
A quote from Moviefone Guy on Headline News in reference to the new movie Hustle and Flow: "That movie is the shiznit and it will keep them krumping in the streets, yo." It pains me to hear (and see) people attempt to speak ill-fitting slang.
For those of you who can't translate this, he recommends the movie.
Update: 7/25/05
CK and I went to see this yesterday and Moviefone Guy was actually right on the mark (while being quite cheesy). CK posted a brief review on the fount.
For those of you who can't translate this, he recommends the movie.
Update: 7/25/05
CK and I went to see this yesterday and Moviefone Guy was actually right on the mark (while being quite cheesy). CK posted a brief review on the fount.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Household Roles
Recently CK and I spent a night working on our hobbies. Both of us came away with residue from our hobby stuck under our fingernails. One of us had chocolate ganache remains and the other had wood stain. Stereotypes would place me slaving away in the kitchen and CK hard at work in the basement. Not so in our household.
When we got married, I secretly longed for the "Power Tool Party" that was thrown for CK. I was so excited to see what tools he reaped. He (I) got a circular saw, several ratchet sets, a power drill, a tool box, and oh, so much more! I could have done a happy dance seeing his (soon to be my) spoils! CK is the baker and chef in our house. Don't get me wrong, I cook, when I feel like it - which is rare. I do make a mean shrimp gumbo. If we decide on sandwiches, I am usually finished eating mine before he has even finished building his masterpiece.
I could spend hours browsing row by row of any hardware supercenter. CK on the other hand would much prefer the Beyond (kitchen wares) part of Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I could take an hour deciding on which laser tape measure I want; he could spend hours deciding on which pepper mill is better. I have burns and scars from hot glue guns and razors; CK has scars from hot ovens and sharp knives. Household roles are interesting.
When we got married, I secretly longed for the "Power Tool Party" that was thrown for CK. I was so excited to see what tools he reaped. He (I) got a circular saw, several ratchet sets, a power drill, a tool box, and oh, so much more! I could have done a happy dance seeing his (soon to be my) spoils! CK is the baker and chef in our house. Don't get me wrong, I cook, when I feel like it - which is rare. I do make a mean shrimp gumbo. If we decide on sandwiches, I am usually finished eating mine before he has even finished building his masterpiece.
I could spend hours browsing row by row of any hardware supercenter. CK on the other hand would much prefer the Beyond (kitchen wares) part of Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I could take an hour deciding on which laser tape measure I want; he could spend hours deciding on which pepper mill is better. I have burns and scars from hot glue guns and razors; CK has scars from hot ovens and sharp knives. Household roles are interesting.
Friday, July 15, 2005
I've turned into one of those people...
who order from HSN. I was trying to wake up yesterday and surfing the morning news when I passed the Home Shopping Network. On the screen was this man cutting glass, tile, marble, and much more with little or no effort.
Why sould I care? Because I spent the forth of July weekend cutting 100 tiny 1.5 inch eight sided mirrors for an order. While it wasn't too difficult, it looked much easier with his special tool. So, I ordered it yesterday. Will it exceed my expectations? Probably not. Will it meet my expectations? Probably not. Does it hurt to spend $20 to try it out? Probably not.
Why sould I care? Because I spent the forth of July weekend cutting 100 tiny 1.5 inch eight sided mirrors for an order. While it wasn't too difficult, it looked much easier with his special tool. So, I ordered it yesterday. Will it exceed my expectations? Probably not. Will it meet my expectations? Probably not. Does it hurt to spend $20 to try it out? Probably not.
I'm SO Excited!
And I just cant hide it...
But I can't blog about it yet. (No, Bamamammy, we are not yet providing you with grandchild number 7.)
But I can't blog about it yet. (No, Bamamammy, we are not yet providing you with grandchild number 7.)
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Hmmm.
I was channel surfing while I checked my email this AM and came across something interesting on QVC. I stopped because I was intrigued by the DVD camcorder. I was distracted because the guy presenting the camcorder was wearing a gold chain bracelet. Did I miss the moment where they announced it was acceptable for men to wear bracelets. Didn't they watch the Friends episode (Season 2, episode 38) where Joey gave Chandler a charm bracelet and it didn't end well.
Anyway...
Anyway...
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Get your toy, Mr. B
Whenever we move from one floor to another floor around our house, you are bound to hear the phrase, "Get your toy, Mr. B". What follows is our dog, blog name Mr. B, frantically moving from one toy to another toy trying to decide which toy he wants to move to the upstairs/downstairs. This afternoon during his selection process, he mouthed a squeek hedghog (former favorite), moved on to the "skin" of a stuffed anteater, nosed a Kong, and settled on - with great delight - a... water bottle.
He has a toy bin on each floor FULL of toys. Dog toys aren't cheap, yet once a month when we make our run to the pet store for dog food I feel compelled to pick him up another toy. He dances with joy when we walk in the door with the bag (I assume he can smell the pet store). When he gets the toy, he low-butt-runs (as we call it) around the house as if that moment is the best moment of his life.
Over the last few months, he has decided that plastic water bottles are his new favorite. He is as excited to receive one of those (maybe more) as he is when he gets a new toy. Currently he has 5 within view from my seat here in the living room. Ocassionally he will get out of the other recliner and rediscover a bottle, L-B-running around with joy.
We pick up a case full of joy at "the Wal-mart" once a week...if only life for people were as simple.
He has a toy bin on each floor FULL of toys. Dog toys aren't cheap, yet once a month when we make our run to the pet store for dog food I feel compelled to pick him up another toy. He dances with joy when we walk in the door with the bag (I assume he can smell the pet store). When he gets the toy, he low-butt-runs (as we call it) around the house as if that moment is the best moment of his life.
Over the last few months, he has decided that plastic water bottles are his new favorite. He is as excited to receive one of those (maybe more) as he is when he gets a new toy. Currently he has 5 within view from my seat here in the living room. Ocassionally he will get out of the other recliner and rediscover a bottle, L-B-running around with joy.
We pick up a case full of joy at "the Wal-mart" once a week...if only life for people were as simple.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Monday, July 04, 2005
Marathon TV
Holiday weekends are notorious for marathon runs of popular TV shows. On Saturday I spent the entire day (from 9 am to 8 pm) watching The 4400 on USA Network. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't just sitting around wasting my day watching TV. While I watched I worked on an order for 400 frames that I have pending, so essentially I was getting paid to watch TV. I also wanted to see the first season of The 4400 because the show intrigued me and contrary to this post, I don't really watch that much TV. I recommend the show, I enjoy it almost as much as Lost.
Today, I am watching the marathon of Monk, also on USA. And, yes, I am still making frames. For those of you who aren't familiar with the show Monk, I will give a brief review. Monk is a former detective who is stricken with a severe case of obsessive/compulsive disorder. (Thus the former detective). The show revolves around Adrian Monk assisting in solving cases while working around his OCD. That said, CK and I enjoy the show. We don't watch it often because, as I said, we don't watch that much TV. I hate to admit how much Monk reminds me of CK - and myself. We aren't as extreme, but our kids (yet to be conceived) will probably have no hope.
An example of our issue(s) to amuse you: We have gone a few times to a restaurant that offers peanuts to be shelled and eaten while you wait for your meal. You are supposed to throw the shells on the floor, that is apparently the "fun" of eating the peanuts. CK and I will eat the peanuts and make a tidy pile of shells on the table until they bring the bread plates, then the peanut shells are quickly moved off the table and onto the plate. Neither one of us can force ourselves to throw the shells on the floor. We tried.
Today, I am watching the marathon of Monk, also on USA. And, yes, I am still making frames. For those of you who aren't familiar with the show Monk, I will give a brief review. Monk is a former detective who is stricken with a severe case of obsessive/compulsive disorder. (Thus the former detective). The show revolves around Adrian Monk assisting in solving cases while working around his OCD. That said, CK and I enjoy the show. We don't watch it often because, as I said, we don't watch that much TV. I hate to admit how much Monk reminds me of CK - and myself. We aren't as extreme, but our kids (yet to be conceived) will probably have no hope.
An example of our issue(s) to amuse you: We have gone a few times to a restaurant that offers peanuts to be shelled and eaten while you wait for your meal. You are supposed to throw the shells on the floor, that is apparently the "fun" of eating the peanuts. CK and I will eat the peanuts and make a tidy pile of shells on the table until they bring the bread plates, then the peanut shells are quickly moved off the table and onto the plate. Neither one of us can force ourselves to throw the shells on the floor. We tried.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Meme's the Word.
For those of you who are like me and have to ask "What in the world is a Meme?" here is a definition from Wikipedia. The term meme refers to any piece of information passed from one mind to another. I have been tagged with a meme from CK at The Fount so I guess I am it. Here goes...
The Three's Meme
Three Nicknames - Melon, Lizard (not stealing this from Invisible Lizard, this was my camp name when I was a counselor), and Lissy.
Three Things I Like About Myself – I am creative, artistic, and taught myself everything I know about computers and web design.
Three Things That Scare Me - Being touched by a fish while swimming, having someone drop in to visit when I haven't cleaned the house in a few days (weeks, months), and coming home to find my house burned down with my dog, tortoise, and bird still inside.
Three Everyday Essentials - bottle of water, hooded sweatshirt, piece of fruit.
Three Things I'm Wearing Right Now – red sweatpants, gray U of I t-shirt, red hoody.
Three Fave Bands Growing Up – Skid Row,
2 Truths and a Lie - My grandfather had polio and was a quadriplegic, my dad is a rocket scientist, I was born in
Three Things I Can't Do Without – Music, my laptop, Pacific Coast feather comforter.
Three Things I Can Certainly Live Without – washing dishes, peas, and the sound of crickets.
Three Places I Want to Go On Vacation - Centre de Conservation de la Biodiversite Boreal (
Three Things I Want to Do Before I Die – finish my college degree, be the recommended weight for my height, and try blowing glass.
Ahh, July 4th. Rest, Relaxation, and Rage.
Yes, I meant to type rage. Every July 4th and the two or three days before or after (depending on where the weekend falls) we have to endure the rage of the beast. The beast being our dog. Few things enrage the beast more than the noise of fireworks going off. He isn't afraid of them (we had that issue with our previous dog), he is actually furious that they are taking place. For the last 2 hours the beast has been stomping around barking furiously at the distant pops. We have tried to console him, bribe him, beg him, drug him. Ok, not drug him, the drugs (anti-histamines) are really for his allergies - he gave himself a fat lip this week scratching his face.
And tonight is only July 3rd. Tomorrow will be worse because we have the War of the Lake Ghetto (as we like to call it). Our neighbor two houses down and a neighbor across the lake have a competition on who can let off more illegal fireworks. This is where one of us consoles the beast while the other watches to make sure the drunks next door don't send one off in the direction of our roof.
So, we have had our rest. We have had our relaxation. And now we endure the rage.
And tonight is only July 3rd. Tomorrow will be worse because we have the War of the Lake Ghetto (as we like to call it). Our neighbor two houses down and a neighbor across the lake have a competition on who can let off more illegal fireworks. This is where one of us consoles the beast while the other watches to make sure the drunks next door don't send one off in the direction of our roof.
So, we have had our rest. We have had our relaxation. And now we endure the rage.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Can I stomach Crossroads?
I am watching Crossroads on Mtv for lack of anything else to watch and until I cannot stomach it any longer.
8:02 BS (Lucy) is dancing around in her tank top and boy underpants while singing to a Madonna song.
8:04 BS's dad just said she is the valedictorian. I don't find that believable.
8:07 BS is crying because she wasted her high school years studying. She never went to a football game, never stayed out late, etc.
8:08 BS is now mope-ing around at some party they are attending. So far in the movie BS has had 2 confrontations with nasty popular girls.
8:09 I have had all I can take. Time to flip the channel. OOOOh, oooh! I just found The Core again on Showtime! And as we know from a previous post, I do enjoy my ridiculous disaster movies.
8:02 BS (Lucy) is dancing around in her tank top and boy underpants while singing to a Madonna song.
8:04 BS's dad just said she is the valedictorian. I don't find that believable.
8:07 BS is crying because she wasted her high school years studying. She never went to a football game, never stayed out late, etc.
8:08 BS is now mope-ing around at some party they are attending. So far in the movie BS has had 2 confrontations with nasty popular girls.
8:09 I have had all I can take. Time to flip the channel. OOOOh, oooh! I just found The Core again on Showtime! And as we know from a previous post, I do enjoy my ridiculous disaster movies.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Why I Don't Gamble
I have started posting some items for sale on eBay recently for my home business. I feel compelled to check my listings obsessively to see if I have any bids or even any hits on the pages or "watchers". I check it at least 15 times a day. This doesn't have anything to do with gambling, I just wanted to point out how obsessed I am with that.
The bidding is the "gambling" issue. I hate to lose. I hate losing while playing games and I hate losing while bidding on eBay. If I have bid on something I really want, I will sit and click reload for an hour before the auction ends, just to make sure I don't get outbid. Why, you ask, don't I just bid higher? Because I am cheap. I don't want to pay more than what I bid, but I also don't like to lose. You see my dilemma.
I've been to Vegas twice and only spent $0.05 on the slot machines. It makes me physically ill (0r could it be my severe allergy to cigarette smoke...) to put money into a machine and not get something - a gumball even- out instantly. I could never sit at one of those things and pump change into it for hours in the hope that I would get some trickle of nickels back. Those people make me sad. Anyway, with my obsessiveness on eBay, I would never allow myself to become involved in any other form of a gamble. I would have to play until I won - or more likely, until I ran us into bankruptcy.
The bidding is the "gambling" issue. I hate to lose. I hate losing while playing games and I hate losing while bidding on eBay. If I have bid on something I really want, I will sit and click reload for an hour before the auction ends, just to make sure I don't get outbid. Why, you ask, don't I just bid higher? Because I am cheap. I don't want to pay more than what I bid, but I also don't like to lose. You see my dilemma.
I've been to Vegas twice and only spent $0.05 on the slot machines. It makes me physically ill (0r could it be my severe allergy to cigarette smoke...) to put money into a machine and not get something - a gumball even- out instantly. I could never sit at one of those things and pump change into it for hours in the hope that I would get some trickle of nickels back. Those people make me sad. Anyway, with my obsessiveness on eBay, I would never allow myself to become involved in any other form of a gamble. I would have to play until I won - or more likely, until I ran us into bankruptcy.
QVC, Commercials, and Local News
A couple comments on a few TV related subjects.
I shall begin with QVC/HSN. I have never bought a thing from either channel, but I feel compelled to stop and watch every once in a while. A particular favorite product to watch (do they call them segments or shows?) is Quacker Factory - NOT because I would ever consider wearing any of the clothing offered, but because the creator of the line (Jeanne) horrifies me! She is a jovial, heavy lady - no big deal yet - who wears, every time I have ever seen her, a thick 80's style head band. Not the kind that goes over your head from ear to ear...the kind that goes over your eyebrows and around the back of your head. YIKES! And she is trying to sell me "style"? A link to a picture. I won't even go into my anti-embellishment of clothing. Do we really want bedazzled bumble bee's flying around leaving a stitch trail all over our tops?
Following the theme of creepy commercials on The Fount...
I agree with one commenter who said the Burger King "Wake up with the king" commercials are freaky. I don't know what I would do if I rolled over and cracked open an eye and saw that thing grinning at me - even if it was offering me food. One of my most hated commercials is probably local so I will recap it for you. Cable Company trashing the "dish" networks. It has this boob who had a dish but he had problems with keeping it installed. He claims the dish company told him to put the dish in a bucket of cement. "I live in an apartment, where am I going to mix cement?" Then he proceeds to build this elaborate bookshelf (in the apartment) to tie his dish onto out on his patio - which obviously didn't work, so he got cable. While I know this is a fictional incident, I feel compelled to yell at this boob every time I see the commercial. "You can build a shelving unit in your kitchen, but you can't pour some cement mix in a 5 gallon bucket and give it a stir! GIVE ME A BREAK! You are so stupid you deserve RABBIT EARS!"
And while on the subject of stupid people...ahhh, the local news. Now, I am not saying that the news personalities are stupid (right now, that will probably come in another post). It's the people they find to interview. CK and I have come up with a theory on this, which I will end this post with, but first I will explain my viewpoint. Why is it that the only people you ever see interviewed after an apartment building burns down or a car drives through a restaurant have the same features? Missing teeth, a mullet, a wife-beater T-shirt, overalls, and horrifically poor grammar (if they can string a sentence together at all!). I have lived in 4 different states in differnet parts of the US and have encountered this phenomenon in all locations (just with different regional accents). I conclude with the theory that anyone with an IQ above 75 knows better than to be interviewed by the local news and when they see the news van coming, they slowly back away into the crowd. Or better yet, they don't chase the ambulances in the first place!
Thursday, June 09, 2005
A New Obsession?
Well, I hate to admit it, but I think I may have a new obsession...
Since I make dollhouse accessories for a living - or, rather, a tax deductible hobby - I decided that maybe I should try building and decorating a dollhouse, if only to display my products in a realistic setting for my website. Maybe I can write it off? I chose the Coventry Cottage for my first endeavor.
It was delivered today. Excitedly, I opened up the box and looked through the kit. It contains 12 or 13 pieces of pseudo-cut plywood, ready to be broken apart, sanded, painted, and glued. First, one must read the instructions - this is a step I often skip, usually ending in my taking apart, reading the instructions and putting back together the correct way. This time, I am following the instructions. They are a bit hairy because there are close to a billion pieces. Dollhouses are like giant puzzles. And off I go. I'm about 1/3 done and have invested about 5 hours so far.
I'll post progress report/pictures as I progress, but right now it's late, I'm tired, and I have two pretty painful hot glue gun burns (one on my right index - i.e. typing - finger and the other on my lower left wrist - exactly where my arm rests on the laptop), so I am off to bed.
Since I make dollhouse accessories for a living - or, rather, a tax deductible hobby - I decided that maybe I should try building and decorating a dollhouse, if only to display my products in a realistic setting for my website. Maybe I can write it off? I chose the Coventry Cottage for my first endeavor.
It was delivered today. Excitedly, I opened up the box and looked through the kit. It contains 12 or 13 pieces of pseudo-cut plywood, ready to be broken apart, sanded, painted, and glued. First, one must read the instructions - this is a step I often skip, usually ending in my taking apart, reading the instructions and putting back together the correct way. This time, I am following the instructions. They are a bit hairy because there are close to a billion pieces. Dollhouses are like giant puzzles. And off I go. I'm about 1/3 done and have invested about 5 hours so far.
I'll post progress report/pictures as I progress, but right now it's late, I'm tired, and I have two pretty painful hot glue gun burns (one on my right index - i.e. typing - finger and the other on my lower left wrist - exactly where my arm rests on the laptop), so I am off to bed.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Another Friday, Another Day Off
I recently cut back on my hours at my job and now have Wednesday and Friday off every week. I would like to say that I am using this time to keep my house clean and do yard work, but that is not so. Mostly, I putter on the computer, nap with the dog, or catch up on daytime tv.
Right now, the dog is in the recliner next to me with is legs straight (resting on the foot rest I put out for him) and his head resting (and hanging over) on the arm of the chair. When I reach over to pet him, his rear leg pops up for a tummy rub. Occassionally, his tail will swish and he will run in his sleep chasing one of the squirels that stand outside the glass door tormenting him while he is awake.
Why am I telling you this? No real reason. I am watching a show on Animal Planet called Growing Up Polar Bear and the orphaned polar bear featured reminds me of the dog. His (the bear's) favorite toy is a big blue plastic keg. Bookers favorite toy(s) is a plastic water bottle. When we give him the bottle he takes it an runs with joy, throwing it and kicking it for himself. The bear does the same thing with his keg.
The enclosure the polar bear is being moved to at the St-Félicien's Wild Zoo in Northern Canada is stunningly beatiful. I found an article about the bears. It has a live webcam. (woo hoo!). I've added this to my list of places I want to visit.
Show's over, Star Trek TNG starting, so I shall sign off.
Right now, the dog is in the recliner next to me with is legs straight (resting on the foot rest I put out for him) and his head resting (and hanging over) on the arm of the chair. When I reach over to pet him, his rear leg pops up for a tummy rub. Occassionally, his tail will swish and he will run in his sleep chasing one of the squirels that stand outside the glass door tormenting him while he is awake.
Why am I telling you this? No real reason. I am watching a show on Animal Planet called Growing Up Polar Bear and the orphaned polar bear featured reminds me of the dog. His (the bear's) favorite toy is a big blue plastic keg. Bookers favorite toy(s) is a plastic water bottle. When we give him the bottle he takes it an runs with joy, throwing it and kicking it for himself. The bear does the same thing with his keg.
The enclosure the polar bear is being moved to at the St-Félicien's Wild Zoo in Northern Canada is stunningly beatiful. I found an article about the bears. It has a live webcam. (woo hoo!). I've added this to my list of places I want to visit.
Show's over, Star Trek TNG starting, so I shall sign off.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
For your amusement...
Experpts from a forwarded email that I got today. In accordance to my rule noted in Pet Peeves I will not follow #20 and forward the email to all my friends, but I will post these select few for you to enjoy. I took out the ones I thought were too stupid. These were the ones that made me - at minimum, smile - at times laugh out loud. Enjoy.
Title: "20 Ways to Keep Your Sanity"
1. At lunchtime, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down.
2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don’t disguise your voice.
4. Put your garbage can on your desk and label it “IN”.
5. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over his or her caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.
11. Specify that your drive-through order be, “to go”.
14. Put mosquito netting around your work area and play tropical sounds all day.
16. Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name.
17. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream, “I won! I won!”.
18. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot yelling, “run for your lives, they’re loose!”
Title: "20 Ways to Keep Your Sanity"
1. At lunchtime, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down.
2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don’t disguise your voice.
4. Put your garbage can on your desk and label it “IN”.
5. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over his or her caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.
11. Specify that your drive-through order be, “to go”.
14. Put mosquito netting around your work area and play tropical sounds all day.
16. Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name.
17. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream, “I won! I won!”.
18. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot yelling, “run for your lives, they’re loose!”
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
I give people too much credit...
As I am sure I have stated somewhere on this site, I have taken on a family business recently. We (I guess "I" now, since I am the only one doing it anymore) make miniature dollhouse picture frames. I have tried to make my website as user-friendly and easy to navigate and understand as I can. I have also tried to make it ABUNDANTLY clear that what I am selling is 1/12 scale, i.e. not very big.
This weekend I had a person email me and ask if I provided the glass for the frames. I replied by saying that the frames themselves are only 1/8" deep and the inlay for the art is only 3/64". The prospective customer continued to ask questions and placed an order yesterday. Shortly after this customer placed the order they emailed back and said they just noticed that the frames were 1/12 scale, thought they were full sized frames, that explains the price, please cancel the order.
[sigh] ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! A 16 x 20 frame for $1.80 is indeed quite a bargain. It was not a problem to cancel the order. What amazes me is that I plainly stated in an email directly to the person experiencing the confusion that the product is only 1/8" deep, that is as thick as a... Nickel, and yet the prospective customer didn't pick up on the miniature part of the situation.
Enough with the rant...I spend this morning tweaking the website to make it even more obvious that my frames are tiny. I put a penny in each picture so there can't...uh, shouldn't, be any more confusion.
In case you are interested: www.dollhouseframes.com
This weekend I had a person email me and ask if I provided the glass for the frames. I replied by saying that the frames themselves are only 1/8" deep and the inlay for the art is only 3/64". The prospective customer continued to ask questions and placed an order yesterday. Shortly after this customer placed the order they emailed back and said they just noticed that the frames were 1/12 scale, thought they were full sized frames, that explains the price, please cancel the order.
[sigh] ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! A 16 x 20 frame for $1.80 is indeed quite a bargain. It was not a problem to cancel the order. What amazes me is that I plainly stated in an email directly to the person experiencing the confusion that the product is only 1/8" deep, that is as thick as a... Nickel, and yet the prospective customer didn't pick up on the miniature part of the situation.
Enough with the rant...I spend this morning tweaking the website to make it even more obvious that my frames are tiny. I put a penny in each picture so there can't...uh, shouldn't, be any more confusion.
In case you are interested: www.dollhouseframes.com
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Perspective
It is funny how your perspectives on things differ depending on your surroundings. As mentioned in my "About Me" section, I work in the office of a large insect farm. We grow and ship millions of bugs (one type) every week.
Today, when I strayed out of my "bug-free" zone to go to the bathroom, I was struck by an oddity in the bathroom. A blue sequin was sitting on the bathroom floor surrounded by living and dead bugs. The normal person might find the oddity to be the living and dead bugs. Not so. Here at the farm, that is the norm. On any given day, you could be joined by a dozen to a hundred bugs while going to the bathroom (closed toed shoes are a plus!). The oddity was the blue sequin. Most (all) blue collar farm employees do not have sequins on their clothing. Odd.
Today, when I strayed out of my "bug-free" zone to go to the bathroom, I was struck by an oddity in the bathroom. A blue sequin was sitting on the bathroom floor surrounded by living and dead bugs. The normal person might find the oddity to be the living and dead bugs. Not so. Here at the farm, that is the norm. On any given day, you could be joined by a dozen to a hundred bugs while going to the bathroom (closed toed shoes are a plus!). The oddity was the blue sequin. Most (all) blue collar farm employees do not have sequins on their clothing. Odd.
Monday, May 16, 2005
The Hunt, Llama, Yoda, and The Dog
Not much to blog about recently. Last weekend we went to 4 different stores looking for a Dirt Devil #9 belt so I could vaccum the piles of dog hair deposited daily by Booker The Dog. Never found the belts, but I did find a 6 inch llama at World Market. I by no means needed the llama but felt compelled to spend $13 on an item that said "Not a toy" on the label. It sits on our TV watching us right now.
Along with the belt hunt, CK has felt compelled to get a mini Yoda figurine from Burger King. Three kids meals later (each - over the course of 3 days)he finally got his mini Yoda (who does flips) tonight. When he asked the lady if they had Yoda tonight, she looked at him and said, flustered, "I...I have no idea what you are taling about." She looked around frantically and after she didn't understand his explanation she looked for a pictoral overview of all the toys so he could point to the one he wanted. She was more amused than annoyed. My question. WHO DOESN'T know who Yoda is!?
I have no comments on Booker The Dog, that will come another day. I just wanted to share some pictures. :) Enjoy.
Along with the belt hunt, CK has felt compelled to get a mini Yoda figurine from Burger King. Three kids meals later (each - over the course of 3 days)he finally got his mini Yoda (who does flips) tonight. When he asked the lady if they had Yoda tonight, she looked at him and said, flustered, "I...I have no idea what you are taling about." She looked around frantically and after she didn't understand his explanation she looked for a pictoral overview of all the toys so he could point to the one he wanted. She was more amused than annoyed. My question. WHO DOESN'T know who Yoda is!?
I have no comments on Booker The Dog, that will come another day. I just wanted to share some pictures. :) Enjoy.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Love is in the air...
Well, spring has finally shown up for a few days in Michigan. On Monday and Tuesday we had snow (very light, but none-the-less). Today it was in the 70's.
What does this have to do with the title? This morning when I let the dog out the back door, he rushed down the stairs, barking like crazy at a large swan that was hanging out in the yard. Oh, by the way, we live on a lake so larger birds in our yard is not so uncommon, but usually it is a gaggle of geese or a lone blue heron, the swans prefer the other side of the lake. In 3 and a half years this is the first swan to hang out in our yard.
Back to the title. Oddly, the swan waddled off and hung out close to the shore staring him (the dog) down. The dog lost interest and went about his normal business and yet the swan remained. We (the dog and me) were intrigued so I grabbed the binoculars and headed upstairs to watch from above. About an hour later (I was reading a book and watching, I don't normally just sit and stare out the window at large fowl) a second swan floated up.
He, too, waddled out of the water, again absolutely unheard of on this side of the lake, and strutted towards the first beast. She seemed shy and waddled towards the yard next door. Mr. Swan, with his feathers ruffled like a peacock (though not as long and flamboyant) diligently followed.
I know you expect me to go into some graphic and yet amusing anecdote about swan love, but you are going to be disappointed. Like a Disney movie, they waddled behind a large burn pile of yard waste and hung out for a while. Twenty minutes later Mr. Swan waddled his way back to the water and floated away. What happened behind the burn pile, we (the dog, me, and now you) will never know, but I can tell you that I didn't hear any slurps similar to those made by Joe Millionaire and the blonde lady with the foot fetish videos.
Happy Spring!
What does this have to do with the title? This morning when I let the dog out the back door, he rushed down the stairs, barking like crazy at a large swan that was hanging out in the yard. Oh, by the way, we live on a lake so larger birds in our yard is not so uncommon, but usually it is a gaggle of geese or a lone blue heron, the swans prefer the other side of the lake. In 3 and a half years this is the first swan to hang out in our yard.
Back to the title. Oddly, the swan waddled off and hung out close to the shore staring him (the dog) down. The dog lost interest and went about his normal business and yet the swan remained. We (the dog and me) were intrigued so I grabbed the binoculars and headed upstairs to watch from above. About an hour later (I was reading a book and watching, I don't normally just sit and stare out the window at large fowl) a second swan floated up.
He, too, waddled out of the water, again absolutely unheard of on this side of the lake, and strutted towards the first beast. She seemed shy and waddled towards the yard next door. Mr. Swan, with his feathers ruffled like a peacock (though not as long and flamboyant) diligently followed.
I know you expect me to go into some graphic and yet amusing anecdote about swan love, but you are going to be disappointed. Like a Disney movie, they waddled behind a large burn pile of yard waste and hung out for a while. Twenty minutes later Mr. Swan waddled his way back to the water and floated away. What happened behind the burn pile, we (the dog, me, and now you) will never know, but I can tell you that I didn't hear any slurps similar to those made by Joe Millionaire and the blonde lady with the foot fetish videos.
Happy Spring!
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Con
It is after midnight and I am too lazy go get up and go to bed so I am watching a show on Comedy Central called Con. I find the show slightly offensive for several reasons.
1.) The local news felt the need to have a ridiculous story about the show because the "star" (please read in as much sarcasm as you wish) is a "Grand Rapids native".
2.) "West Michigan native, so-and-so" is making a living out of scamming as many people, places, businesses, etc as he can - all while being followed around by (and talking directly to) a Comedy Central camera. Much of what he does is what I would consider stealing and lying.
3.) During the credits, in tiny print, it states that Comedy Central reimburses the people involved. I.E. They've just been Punked, not Conned. Although, I supposed they were Conned, for a few minutes, before the producer trailed behind the "West Michigan Native" to pay for all the things he stole or pay the people who were "hired" to work a job and ended up wasting their time and making fools of themselves.
I am obviously not impressed...yet, I continue to watch, because now I am committed for the 3o minutes to see how it ends. [[curse-ed laziness!]]
1.) The local news felt the need to have a ridiculous story about the show because the "star" (please read in as much sarcasm as you wish) is a "Grand Rapids native".
2.) "West Michigan native, so-and-so" is making a living out of scamming as many people, places, businesses, etc as he can - all while being followed around by (and talking directly to) a Comedy Central camera. Much of what he does is what I would consider stealing and lying.
3.) During the credits, in tiny print, it states that Comedy Central reimburses the people involved. I.E. They've just been Punked, not Conned. Although, I supposed they were Conned, for a few minutes, before the producer trailed behind the "West Michigan Native" to pay for all the things he stole or pay the people who were "hired" to work a job and ended up wasting their time and making fools of themselves.
I am obviously not impressed...yet, I continue to watch, because now I am committed for the 3o minutes to see how it ends. [[curse-ed laziness!]]
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Obsessions, Compulsions, and Pet-Peeves
One of my bigger pet-peeves is FW:emails. Part of the reason I hate them (is that strong for a pet-peeve?) is > > > > > > > > >
I find it intolerable to read a message with 15 > in front of each pseudo sentence, usually followed by every other line containing only 1 or two words because the formatting has been so corrupted.
If I do feel the need to actually read one, which is rare, I HAVE to (this is the compulsion/obsession part) cut and paste it into Word and fix all of the formatting issues to make it readable. For example, this morning I received a Dr. Phil Quiz from a co-worker. My interest was piqued, so I ctrl-A, ctrl-V and start my reformatting. Once the quiz was in the suitable format (25 minutes later) I proceeded to take the quiz, scoring a 35 - which was pretty fitting to my personality. Did I forward it on? Absolutely not.
Which brings me to my next pet-peeve: I don't care if lightning strikes me dead the moment I delete it, I WILL NOT forward it to 10 people to save myself from the terrible things a pseudo-spam threatens me with. Do people actually think that a train will crash into their house if they delete an email from the inbox? Give me a break.
My final pet-peeve of the evening: "I don't normally forward these, but..." Puh-lease! If that is the case, clean it up and send it as it's own email with a nice bit of personal correspondence working up to the followup of pseudo-spam.
Oh, the irony. While composing this blog I just received FW: FW: FW: A NEW WAY OF CAR JACKING to warn me about the dangers of windshield fliers. Will I "Please keep this circulating, caution to women especially."? Of course not.
I find it intolerable to read a message with 15 > in front of each pseudo sentence, usually followed by every other line containing only 1 or two words because the formatting has been so corrupted.
If I do feel the need to actually read one, which is rare, I HAVE to (this is the compulsion/obsession part) cut and paste it into Word and fix all of the formatting issues to make it readable. For example, this morning I received a Dr. Phil Quiz from a co-worker. My interest was piqued, so I ctrl-A, ctrl-V and start my reformatting. Once the quiz was in the suitable format (25 minutes later) I proceeded to take the quiz, scoring a 35 - which was pretty fitting to my personality. Did I forward it on? Absolutely not.
Which brings me to my next pet-peeve: I don't care if lightning strikes me dead the moment I delete it, I WILL NOT forward it to 10 people to save myself from the terrible things a pseudo-spam threatens me with. Do people actually think that a train will crash into their house if they delete an email from the inbox? Give me a break.
My final pet-peeve of the evening: "I don't normally forward these, but..." Puh-lease! If that is the case, clean it up and send it as it's own email with a nice bit of personal correspondence working up to the followup of pseudo-spam.
Oh, the irony. While composing this blog I just received FW: FW: FW: A NEW WAY OF CAR JACKING to warn me about the dangers of windshield fliers. Will I "Please keep this circulating, caution to women especially."? Of course not.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Only The Lonely...
I have the night to myself, CK is out of town. I feel like I should be doing something exciting or wild, being suddenly single. I am almost let down with myself for not. Tonight was my final for the previously mentioned class I am taking. I am wrapping up my evening by blogging (obviously), sharing fat-free pretzels and hummus with the dog, watching CSI, and maybe - just maybe - I will Dance Dance Revolution for a little while. I have become so boring...
On another note, I recently downloaded Mozilla Firefox as an alternate web browser. I am finding it quite nice and highly recommend it. I am finding that I have far less spyware that gets installed. Granted, I don't go to "questionable" sites, but none-the-less, my 4 spyware detectors are coming up dry where they used to come up with 6-10 on every run.
I am off to dance...
On another note, I recently downloaded Mozilla Firefox as an alternate web browser. I am finding it quite nice and highly recommend it. I am finding that I have far less spyware that gets installed. Granted, I don't go to "questionable" sites, but none-the-less, my 4 spyware detectors are coming up dry where they used to come up with 6-10 on every run.
I am off to dance...
Monday, April 25, 2005
Dancing Queen
Yesterday CK and I purchased Dance Dance Revolution. The thought was that this will be a fun way for us to get out of the recliners and actually exercise. And boy-oh-boy were we correct.
So... I have zero - and I mean zero - rhythm and coordination. I have trouble Sweatin' to the Oldies. I also have a strong anti-humiliation drive. After attempting a few steps with CK in the room I had to ask him to go downstairs and play on his computer for a half hour. Now, alone in the room with a VERY perplexed dog, I begin the tutorial. I actually am enjoying this.
I finished tutorials 1 and 2 and played a game (passing all 3 rounds with a D). By now I am Sweatin like the oldie that I am (30) and I have to admit, this will be much easier to do and enjoy than Yoga for Dummies (bought it and did it once) or Walk Away the Pounds (bought it and did it twice).
I'll let you know if I Dance Dance on a regular basis. Maybe I have found a workout I can enjoy!
So... I have zero - and I mean zero - rhythm and coordination. I have trouble Sweatin' to the Oldies. I also have a strong anti-humiliation drive. After attempting a few steps with CK in the room I had to ask him to go downstairs and play on his computer for a half hour. Now, alone in the room with a VERY perplexed dog, I begin the tutorial. I actually am enjoying this.
I finished tutorials 1 and 2 and played a game (passing all 3 rounds with a D). By now I am Sweatin like the oldie that I am (30) and I have to admit, this will be much easier to do and enjoy than Yoga for Dummies (bought it and did it once) or Walk Away the Pounds (bought it and did it twice).
I'll let you know if I Dance Dance on a regular basis. Maybe I have found a workout I can enjoy!
jIyajbe'
For those of you who don't speak Klingon (myself included) the title means "I don't understand."
I have often pondered the mindset of "Trekkies". While I think it would be interesting to know a few phrases in Klingon, I can't imagine spending my every waking moment creating the perfect outfit for the next convention. I do catch myself watching Star Trek: The Next Generation whenever I flip past any channel that it is playing. Marathons can keep me parked in a recliner for the duration, but I wouldn't consiter myself to be Trekkie.
Now, I am watching Access Hollywood for lack of anything else on the television. They are doing a story about Star Wars and I am faced with the same "jIyajbe'" Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the movies and am looking forward to the next movie coming out. My question, what makes a person go to a convention and dress up like a character from a film? On man had a costume on that he said took him 3 (!) years to make. All I can do is shake my head.
pItlh.
I have often pondered the mindset of "Trekkies". While I think it would be interesting to know a few phrases in Klingon, I can't imagine spending my every waking moment creating the perfect outfit for the next convention. I do catch myself watching Star Trek: The Next Generation whenever I flip past any channel that it is playing. Marathons can keep me parked in a recliner for the duration, but I wouldn't consiter myself to be Trekkie.
Now, I am watching Access Hollywood for lack of anything else on the television. They are doing a story about Star Wars and I am faced with the same "jIyajbe'" Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the movies and am looking forward to the next movie coming out. My question, what makes a person go to a convention and dress up like a character from a film? On man had a costume on that he said took him 3 (!) years to make. All I can do is shake my head.
pItlh.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
The Naked Truth III
Last night was our last class of figure drawing. To my disappointment, our model pulled a no-call, no-show. I say "to my disappointment" because I was starting to enjoy tormenting everyone I know by showing them my drawings of the naked lady.
Unfortunately, we were not off-the-hook by the model being MIA. Our instructor decided she would stand in as our model. (gasp). Fortunately, she kept her clothes on for the experience. (whew).
Next week is the final - we have to draw more bare skin, but this time it is only the skin of an apple.
TTFN (as my friend Lisa from high school used to say)
Unfortunately, we were not off-the-hook by the model being MIA. Our instructor decided she would stand in as our model. (gasp). Fortunately, she kept her clothes on for the experience. (whew).
Next week is the final - we have to draw more bare skin, but this time it is only the skin of an apple.
TTFN (as my friend Lisa from high school used to say)
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
The Naked Truth II
Second night of our figure drawing.
This week I had issues because we (the class) are on a first name basis with The Model. Last week I had no trouble drawing everything, except her face. My psychoanalysis of this is that by drawing her face I am making her a real person. This week, now that we are calling her by name, I had trouble even looking at her - for fear of meeting her eye. My psychoanalysis of this is that in my mind if I looked at her she would suddenly realize she WAS NAKED in front of 25 people and be embarrassed. (Ridiculous, I know).
I still managed to do the required drawings (and well done, if I do say so myself) but I had a slow start. Only one more naked night to go and then we are back to the apple. (Whew).
This week I had issues because we (the class) are on a first name basis with The Model. Last week I had no trouble drawing everything, except her face. My psychoanalysis of this is that by drawing her face I am making her a real person. This week, now that we are calling her by name, I had trouble even looking at her - for fear of meeting her eye. My psychoanalysis of this is that in my mind if I looked at her she would suddenly realize she WAS NAKED in front of 25 people and be embarrassed. (Ridiculous, I know).
I still managed to do the required drawings (and well done, if I do say so myself) but I had a slow start. Only one more naked night to go and then we are back to the apple. (Whew).
The Family Business
Back in the "olden days" the surname of a family was based on what the family did for a living. What does it mean when you Google your last name, just to see what comes up, and you get link after link of...Dutch porn?
A few years ago, when I had a few minutes to mindlessly search the web for something to look at, I encountered just this when I typed in my maiden name. Does this mean that my ancestors were affluent in the porn business back in the day?
It certainly would be fitting, I suppose, since we recently cleaned out my grandfather's house after he passed away and found his sizable stash of nudie movies (and not the Skinimax type either). Maybe he was carrying on the family legacy.
I, for one, am not carrying on this legacy in any shape or form - just in case you were concerned. For those of you who are curious - Billen.
A few years ago, when I had a few minutes to mindlessly search the web for something to look at, I encountered just this when I typed in my maiden name. Does this mean that my ancestors were affluent in the porn business back in the day?
It certainly would be fitting, I suppose, since we recently cleaned out my grandfather's house after he passed away and found his sizable stash of nudie movies (and not the Skinimax type either). Maybe he was carrying on the family legacy.
I, for one, am not carrying on this legacy in any shape or form - just in case you were concerned. For those of you who are curious - Billen.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Surfing
I am channel surfing to find something to watch. It is Saturday around 1:00 and there is nothing but a steaming pile of crap on TV.
On Spike TV I have found a red headed WEEPING boxer on what I assume is The Contender. Oh, actually it is The Ultimate Fighter Marathonl, my bad. Apparently he is so emotionally scarred by what another meat-head said to him that he is weeping uncontrollably and decided to sleep outside because he cannot face the other meat-heads. The others become intoxicated and further antagonize him by hosing him down while he sleeps. He is (understandably) enraged, just before I changed the channel, he broke a door down because it was apparently not allowing him entry. [[click]] Testosterone overdose.
On VH1 they are showing Showgirls, again. The program director must have a thing for "Mamma" as Slater called her on Saved by the Bell. I don't even want to waste my time typing about how awful this movie is. The hightlights: the fake clothes VH1 has "photoshopped" onto the strippers, Tre from Sex in the City with a very interesting hairdo. [[click]]
On all news channels, CNN, Headline News, Fox News, MSNBC, etc. we have the Royal Wedding Recap. [[click]]
HGTV, Discovery, and TLC all have some home improvement show on. No thanks. [[click]]
MTV we have Real World 23 or is it Road Rules 20 or is it Inferno 10? Anyway, we have a red team and a black team. They are standing on a 4x4 plank over water taking off and putting on each others clothes. We have men in bikini's and tank tops. Hmmm. [[click]]
TBS has Back to the Future 1, 2, or 3. [[click]]
Sports channel [[click]]
Sports channel [[click]]
Sports channel [[click]]
Lifetime, Linda Hamilton crying. [[click]]
Nick, Sponge Bob. [[CLICK!]]
Food Network, Low Carb and Lovin' it. [[double click]]
I supposed I could turn it off and do something productive...Nah, I'll just watch the Weather Channel.
[[click]]
On Spike TV I have found a red headed WEEPING boxer on what I assume is The Contender. Oh, actually it is The Ultimate Fighter Marathonl, my bad. Apparently he is so emotionally scarred by what another meat-head said to him that he is weeping uncontrollably and decided to sleep outside because he cannot face the other meat-heads. The others become intoxicated and further antagonize him by hosing him down while he sleeps. He is (understandably) enraged, just before I changed the channel, he broke a door down because it was apparently not allowing him entry. [[click]] Testosterone overdose.
On VH1 they are showing Showgirls, again. The program director must have a thing for "Mamma" as Slater called her on Saved by the Bell. I don't even want to waste my time typing about how awful this movie is. The hightlights: the fake clothes VH1 has "photoshopped" onto the strippers, Tre from Sex in the City with a very interesting hairdo. [[click]]
On all news channels, CNN, Headline News, Fox News, MSNBC, etc. we have the Royal Wedding Recap. [[click]]
HGTV, Discovery, and TLC all have some home improvement show on. No thanks. [[click]]
MTV we have Real World 23 or is it Road Rules 20 or is it Inferno 10? Anyway, we have a red team and a black team. They are standing on a 4x4 plank over water taking off and putting on each others clothes. We have men in bikini's and tank tops. Hmmm. [[click]]
TBS has Back to the Future 1, 2, or 3. [[click]]
Sports channel [[click]]
Sports channel [[click]]
Sports channel [[click]]
Lifetime, Linda Hamilton crying. [[click]]
Nick, Sponge Bob. [[CLICK!]]
Food Network, Low Carb and Lovin' it. [[double click]]
I supposed I could turn it off and do something productive...Nah, I'll just watch the Weather Channel.
[[click]]
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
The Naked Truth
For the past two semesters I have been taking required art classes in school. I have always enjoyed and been good at many types of art, but due to a serious fear-of-failure syndrome this is the first time in my life I have taken any classes.
This semester I learned that we were going to be "working with figures". In plain English, nudes. Ten years ago I would have dropped the class immediately upon learning this information. Older and wiser (and properly medicated on anti-anxiety/social disorder medication) I decided to ride it out.
Tonight was night number one of three for our figure drawing. It turned out to not be as horrifying of an experience as I expected. Actually, it wasn't bad at all - don't get me wrong, I am not making a career out of nude portraits, but I am not scarred for life. I think it helped that 1) our model was female. I would have been severely embarrassed drawing the male genitalia. 2) she described herself as Rubenesque and was correct in that description. This for some reason made me feel more comfortable than I would have had I been drawing a Kate Mosesque model.
All in all, the naked truth is that I lived through the class without blushing severely and will survive the next two classes without permanant damage from seeing a naked person in public. I guess I can giggle now about having to draw the crack a bottom.
Until later... (BTW, I have stolen this closing line from The Fount, it's better than "ta ta for now" or "After a while crocodile"). Thanks CK.
This semester I learned that we were going to be "working with figures". In plain English, nudes. Ten years ago I would have dropped the class immediately upon learning this information. Older and wiser (and properly medicated on anti-anxiety/social disorder medication) I decided to ride it out.
Tonight was night number one of three for our figure drawing. It turned out to not be as horrifying of an experience as I expected. Actually, it wasn't bad at all - don't get me wrong, I am not making a career out of nude portraits, but I am not scarred for life. I think it helped that 1) our model was female. I would have been severely embarrassed drawing the male genitalia. 2) she described herself as Rubenesque and was correct in that description. This for some reason made me feel more comfortable than I would have had I been drawing a Kate Mosesque model.
All in all, the naked truth is that I lived through the class without blushing severely and will survive the next two classes without permanant damage from seeing a naked person in public. I guess I can giggle now about having to draw the crack a bottom.
Until later... (BTW, I have stolen this closing line from The Fount, it's better than "ta ta for now" or "After a while crocodile"). Thanks CK.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Confession
I am sitting here watching "The Core" for the third time on Showtime. I hate to admit that the first two times I secretly enjoyed it. As I stopped channel surfing to watch it again for a few moments, it took 5 minutes to figure out if it was a skit making fun of the movie or the actual movie. The voices seemed dubbed and the acting melodramatic.
I am still secretly enjoying it (big-budget disaster films are my secret delight - I watched Dante's Peak the other day for the billionth time - and still cried at the end), but if CK comes up the stairs I will quickly click away from it and deny watching it again.
Hillary Swank just knicked a "diamond the size of Rhode Island" so I better pay attention so I can hold my breath for the cast!
Until later...
I am still secretly enjoying it (big-budget disaster films are my secret delight - I watched Dante's Peak the other day for the billionth time - and still cried at the end), but if CK comes up the stairs I will quickly click away from it and deny watching it again.
Hillary Swank just knicked a "diamond the size of Rhode Island" so I better pay attention so I can hold my breath for the cast!
Until later...
Monday, April 04, 2005
Cereal Addiction?
I have recently discovered that I LOVE Crispix cereal. Since I discovered it for less than $3.00 a box at Wal-Mart, I cannot seem to leave the store without at least one box. I eat it with milk. I eat it without. By the handfull or by the bowl. I think I'll have a fist full right now...
As CK would say, Until Later...
As CK would say, Until Later...
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