It's 15 minutes until I get to leave and I don't want to do any work. I don't want to play any games. I'd like to sit and read, but I don't think the guy in charge would appreciate that. Mostly, I'd like to be on my way to my apartment right now.
Not that I'm doing anything interesting tonight.
Still, being there sitting on my ass and watching the third season of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is better than sitting here on my ass waiting to leave.
Shit.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Starting Next Year
I have just been assured that the office I work for receives no money from the general fund. I won't be fired in January because I'm in the bottom 20% of seniority, then.
I will, however, starting in February, be forced to lose two days a month, or 10% of my paycheck.
It's a mixed blessing.
I will, however, starting in February, be forced to lose two days a month, or 10% of my paycheck.
It's a mixed blessing.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Answerin' Questions From Elsewhere
Swiped from Geewits because I want a post with little actual effort on my part.
If you could be any character in fiction, whom would you be?
Arthur from The Tick. Crazy adventures, wings, licking a monolith. Yeah, I think I'd make a pretty good moth sidekick.
If Hollywood made a movie about your life, whom would you like to see play the lead role as you?
Edward Norton. He's way better looking than I am and he can do funny pretty well, and I rather the movie of my life be a comedy. If I had to go with someone closer to my own age, though, I'd choose Gregory Smith.
If someone wrote a biography about you, what do you think the title should be?
Who the hell is this guy? --or-- Really? Him?
If you had to be shipwrecked on a deserted island, but all your human needs - such as food and water - were taken care of, what two items would you want to have with you?
I assume the rule is that I can't choose a boat, right? Anyway,a satellite phone and a GPS thingy so that when I get bored of being on the island I can call to leave.
If you had six months with no obligations or financial constraints, what would you do with the time?
I'm going to say that I'd travel all over the world, but more likely I'd sit in my apartment watching TV and wondering what the hell I'm doing with my free time and life in general.
If you had only six months left to live, what would you do with the time?
Say good-bye to the people I care about then disappear.
If you could have dinner with anyone from history, who would it be, and why?
If I could clearly understand the person, and be understood by the person, I'd choose the person who wrote the plays of Shakespeare, be it actually Shakespeare or Marlow or some other person because I find the work interesting and I want to know why he choose the subjects he picked and see if he'd be able to understand why The Merchant of Venice isn't seen as a comedy after hearing about what happened in the 1930s and 40s.
If you could compare yourself with any animal, which would it be and why?
I guess a panda because I sit and eat and look like I'm contemplating things even though I'm just trying to remember the lyrics to The Jeffersons.
If you could be any character in fiction, whom would you be?
Arthur from The Tick. Crazy adventures, wings, licking a monolith. Yeah, I think I'd make a pretty good moth sidekick.
If Hollywood made a movie about your life, whom would you like to see play the lead role as you?
Edward Norton. He's way better looking than I am and he can do funny pretty well, and I rather the movie of my life be a comedy. If I had to go with someone closer to my own age, though, I'd choose Gregory Smith.
If someone wrote a biography about you, what do you think the title should be?
Who the hell is this guy? --or-- Really? Him?
If you had to be shipwrecked on a deserted island, but all your human needs - such as food and water - were taken care of, what two items would you want to have with you?
I assume the rule is that I can't choose a boat, right? Anyway,a satellite phone and a GPS thingy so that when I get bored of being on the island I can call to leave.
If you had six months with no obligations or financial constraints, what would you do with the time?
I'm going to say that I'd travel all over the world, but more likely I'd sit in my apartment watching TV and wondering what the hell I'm doing with my free time and life in general.
If you had only six months left to live, what would you do with the time?
Say good-bye to the people I care about then disappear.
If you could have dinner with anyone from history, who would it be, and why?
If I could clearly understand the person, and be understood by the person, I'd choose the person who wrote the plays of Shakespeare, be it actually Shakespeare or Marlow or some other person because I find the work interesting and I want to know why he choose the subjects he picked and see if he'd be able to understand why The Merchant of Venice isn't seen as a comedy after hearing about what happened in the 1930s and 40s.
If you could compare yourself with any animal, which would it be and why?
I guess a panda because I sit and eat and look like I'm contemplating things even though I'm just trying to remember the lyrics to The Jeffersons.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Glat
No pictures up from Mom for Christmas. I hope that means she's using her new oxygen concentrator to make beads. It'll be good for her to get back to it.
Nothing else to report.
Nothing else to report.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Christmas Meme
Stolen from Jazz.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
Paper. Bags may be easy, but they are boring. I like to rip paper and I like to hear other people rip the paper. Then I like to watch the cats wrestle and bat balls of paper around the room.
2. Real tree or artificial?
I have no Christmas tree. I've even wrote about why I have no tree, or other decorations, a couple of years ago. If I had a tree I'd probably get an artificial because it's cheaper and easier, even though I prefer real ones for their texture and smell.
3. When do you put up the tree?
I don't. When we were kids there never was a set date. Usually it was after the Cub Scout tree sale and then when that was gone it was whenever a tree happened to be bought.
4. When do you take the tree down?
I don't.
5. Do you like eggnog?
Fuck! NO! Horrible tongue coating grease drink.
6. Favorite gift received as a child?
Can't remember the best gift. The bike was a really good one, though.
7. Hardest person to buy for?
My dad. He doesn't like to give hints. Some year, I really will give him a bottle of Triflow.
8. Easiest person to buy for?
Me, if I have the cash.
9. Do you have a nativity scene?
No. I could probably make one with some old action figures, though.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
That's assuming I send out Christmas cards. Which I don't. I'm cheap and lazy, both of which mean I'm not sending these things out.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
The closest thing to "worst" I can remember are the years where I liked what my brothers got more than what I got.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie?
The two main family tradition movies are A Christmas Story and George C. Scott's version of A Christmas Carol. I think my favorite, so far, is Christmas Vacation, though.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
This year I started when I got back from Thanksgiving, but I had been thinking about it for a month or so before I started and had most of the gifts figured out.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
I haven't ever giving a gift I got to someone else, but I've probably put a gift in the recycling.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Pretty much whatever I put in my mouth. There are so many yummy things why only pick one favorite?
16. Lights on the tree?
I like lights on trees.
17. Favorite Christmas song?
Weird Al's "The Night Santa Went Crazy"
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
I travel to my parents' house and my grandparents' house, but it don't travel, travel.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's?
Yes, I can.
20. Angel on the tree top or a star?
I have no tree. At the parents' it's usually an angel, one Mom made or a lighter on that I think she didn't make.
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?
Morning. Eve is for forcing kids to sleep, even though their so excited they really won't, but they have to be good, don't they.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
Those morons who make a big deal about the difference between "Happy Holidays" and "Merry Christmas." And the morons are on both sides of the fight.
23. Favorite ornament theme or color?
I always like it when Hallmark did Star Trek ornaments. I never owned them, but I liked the idea of multiple Enterprises on a tree.
24. Favorite for Christmas dinner?
See the answer to #15.
25. What do you want for Christmas this year?
A better job.
Also, to hear a good joke concerning Santa's huge sack and how he whips it out to make kids happy.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
Paper. Bags may be easy, but they are boring. I like to rip paper and I like to hear other people rip the paper. Then I like to watch the cats wrestle and bat balls of paper around the room.
2. Real tree or artificial?
I have no Christmas tree. I've even wrote about why I have no tree, or other decorations, a couple of years ago. If I had a tree I'd probably get an artificial because it's cheaper and easier, even though I prefer real ones for their texture and smell.
3. When do you put up the tree?
I don't. When we were kids there never was a set date. Usually it was after the Cub Scout tree sale and then when that was gone it was whenever a tree happened to be bought.
4. When do you take the tree down?
I don't.
5. Do you like eggnog?
Fuck! NO! Horrible tongue coating grease drink.
6. Favorite gift received as a child?
Can't remember the best gift. The bike was a really good one, though.
7. Hardest person to buy for?
My dad. He doesn't like to give hints. Some year, I really will give him a bottle of Triflow.
8. Easiest person to buy for?
Me, if I have the cash.
9. Do you have a nativity scene?
No. I could probably make one with some old action figures, though.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
That's assuming I send out Christmas cards. Which I don't. I'm cheap and lazy, both of which mean I'm not sending these things out.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
The closest thing to "worst" I can remember are the years where I liked what my brothers got more than what I got.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie?
The two main family tradition movies are A Christmas Story and George C. Scott's version of A Christmas Carol. I think my favorite, so far, is Christmas Vacation, though.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
This year I started when I got back from Thanksgiving, but I had been thinking about it for a month or so before I started and had most of the gifts figured out.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
I haven't ever giving a gift I got to someone else, but I've probably put a gift in the recycling.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Pretty much whatever I put in my mouth. There are so many yummy things why only pick one favorite?
16. Lights on the tree?
I like lights on trees.
17. Favorite Christmas song?
Weird Al's "The Night Santa Went Crazy"
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
I travel to my parents' house and my grandparents' house, but it don't travel, travel.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's?
Yes, I can.
20. Angel on the tree top or a star?
I have no tree. At the parents' it's usually an angel, one Mom made or a lighter on that I think she didn't make.
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?
Morning. Eve is for forcing kids to sleep, even though their so excited they really won't, but they have to be good, don't they.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
Those morons who make a big deal about the difference between "Happy Holidays" and "Merry Christmas." And the morons are on both sides of the fight.
23. Favorite ornament theme or color?
I always like it when Hallmark did Star Trek ornaments. I never owned them, but I liked the idea of multiple Enterprises on a tree.
24. Favorite for Christmas dinner?
See the answer to #15.
25. What do you want for Christmas this year?
A better job.
Also, to hear a good joke concerning Santa's huge sack and how he whips it out to make kids happy.
Friday, December 19, 2008
FUCK!
The question is: Is the DWC, which I work for, part of the General Fund?
If it it, odds are that I'm in the bottom 20% in the seniority. Happy Christmas to me and my co-workers!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Bhef
I got back from some (useful) training in O'Town about an hour ago and I should really be doing some work. I don't wanna, though.
If my supervisor hadn't gone to the training, too, I wouldn't have come back to work today. I would have headed right back to my apartment, turned on the heater, pulled on comfy pants, and done nothing important.
As for that thing I wrote about last Wednesday, it didn't happen. On Thursday, I left work early, for my appointment, and when I got back to my apartment there was a message on my machine from the psychiatrist telling me he had a meeting that afternoon and he'd already taken the liberty of rescheduling me for Tuesday. At least he remembered that I preferred afternoon appointment because it's really hard to go to work after crap.
If my supervisor hadn't gone to the training, too, I wouldn't have come back to work today. I would have headed right back to my apartment, turned on the heater, pulled on comfy pants, and done nothing important.
As for that thing I wrote about last Wednesday, it didn't happen. On Thursday, I left work early, for my appointment, and when I got back to my apartment there was a message on my machine from the psychiatrist telling me he had a meeting that afternoon and he'd already taken the liberty of rescheduling me for Tuesday. At least he remembered that I preferred afternoon appointment because it's really hard to go to work after crap.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Dear Lady Who Lives Behind Me,
I am not a parent and I don't personally know you. I write that because I want you to know that I don't know the specifics of your life or child rearing.
Still, I don't think 11 PM is the most appropriate time to bathe your two children and yell at them, probably because they're having fun in the tub an you just want to get the bath over with, but I can't be too sure of that since I don't understand much Spanish. I'm not writing this just because you and the kids are loud when bath time happens, even though that's the main reason. No, I'm also writing this because, and maybe it's just me, I think that it's a good idea that kids, especially young kids, need to get to sleep early so they have plenty of rest. Also, it's not a bad idea to start getting them ready for school type hours since they will start going in a couple of years.
You probably don't think it's my place to pry. And you may be right. Still, I like to sleep through the night and bath noise and yelling don't help and I do, on occasion, think about other people.
Also, those nights when there isn't a bath and you play with the kids at 11 PM, I'd like that to stop. Yes the loud laughing is annoying and wakes me up, but every time play happens at night one of the kids ends up crying and you end up yelling. And there's crying and yelling for a while, then there's a minute or two of silence before more crying and more yelling. Oh, eventually everything settles down, but it still disturbs my already strained sleep.
Your Brother in Slumber,
ticknart
Still, I don't think 11 PM is the most appropriate time to bathe your two children and yell at them, probably because they're having fun in the tub an you just want to get the bath over with, but I can't be too sure of that since I don't understand much Spanish. I'm not writing this just because you and the kids are loud when bath time happens, even though that's the main reason. No, I'm also writing this because, and maybe it's just me, I think that it's a good idea that kids, especially young kids, need to get to sleep early so they have plenty of rest. Also, it's not a bad idea to start getting them ready for school type hours since they will start going in a couple of years.
You probably don't think it's my place to pry. And you may be right. Still, I like to sleep through the night and bath noise and yelling don't help and I do, on occasion, think about other people.
Also, those nights when there isn't a bath and you play with the kids at 11 PM, I'd like that to stop. Yes the loud laughing is annoying and wakes me up, but every time play happens at night one of the kids ends up crying and you end up yelling. And there's crying and yelling for a while, then there's a minute or two of silence before more crying and more yelling. Oh, eventually everything settles down, but it still disturbs my already strained sleep.
Your Brother in Slumber,
ticknart
Monday, December 08, 2008
Anxious
I am anxious about my appointment to see the psychiatrist on Thursday.
Why am I seeing a psychiatrist? Well, when I went to speak to my general practitioner about getting on an anti-depressant, I freaked her out by being honest. Not my normal sort of honest where I leave more scary bits out to make me sound like I'm better off than I think I am, but totally honest. Like I wrote before, it freaked her out.
After our talk, she left the room to call the psychiatric department to get me an appointment the next day and then gave me a number to call as soon as I got to my apartment. I called the number and it turned out to be the emergency psychiatric help line and the woman I talked to started out by trying to convince me to head up to the psychiatric center and getting a room, there, for the night. After explaining myself to her, by telling her the same things I told the GP earlier just more slowly, she agreed that I could stay in my apartment as long as I'd go and see the psychiatrist the next day, which I had already told the GP I'd do.
I went. I told him the same stuff that I told the other people the day before. He wanted me in a group situation. (I went to a class the next week. I signed up for a group that starts in January.) He set up an appointment for me with him for this Thursday.
This time, I have no idea what we're going to talk about.
I have nothing new to say.
I don't feel or think anything different after four weeks of it.
Will it just be a waste of a co-pay?
I know, it'll be what I make of it, right? It's up to me to turn this into something positive for me, right? It's a fucking choice that I have to fucking make, right?
Well, shit.
I'll see what comes.
It's what I do.
I go to sleep. I wake up. I go to work. I leave work. I go to sleep. And I see what it was.
Why am I seeing a psychiatrist? Well, when I went to speak to my general practitioner about getting on an anti-depressant, I freaked her out by being honest. Not my normal sort of honest where I leave more scary bits out to make me sound like I'm better off than I think I am, but totally honest. Like I wrote before, it freaked her out.
After our talk, she left the room to call the psychiatric department to get me an appointment the next day and then gave me a number to call as soon as I got to my apartment. I called the number and it turned out to be the emergency psychiatric help line and the woman I talked to started out by trying to convince me to head up to the psychiatric center and getting a room, there, for the night. After explaining myself to her, by telling her the same things I told the GP earlier just more slowly, she agreed that I could stay in my apartment as long as I'd go and see the psychiatrist the next day, which I had already told the GP I'd do.
I went. I told him the same stuff that I told the other people the day before. He wanted me in a group situation. (I went to a class the next week. I signed up for a group that starts in January.) He set up an appointment for me with him for this Thursday.
This time, I have no idea what we're going to talk about.
I have nothing new to say.
I don't feel or think anything different after four weeks of it.
Will it just be a waste of a co-pay?
I know, it'll be what I make of it, right? It's up to me to turn this into something positive for me, right? It's a fucking choice that I have to fucking make, right?
Well, shit.
I'll see what comes.
It's what I do.
I go to sleep. I wake up. I go to work. I leave work. I go to sleep. And I see what it was.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
How I Remember the Trip to Oregon
I packed everything up Sunday afternoon and moved it down to my car. The plan was to get back from work on Monday, pee, change my shirt, and leave around 5:30 to head to the hotel near Cowcity. My mom called to confirm what time they were leaving Cowtown. Dad said that they were leaving at 4PM, which was great because it takes them between 60 and 90 minutes more to reach Cowcity than it takes me.
When I got to my apartment on Monday I saw my answering machine flashing and hoped it was just a wrong number. It was my mom. She called just before five to let me know that they hadn't left yet; that someone was still packing. I stomped around my apartment for a while before heading off to the toilette and then to get a clean shirt. After changing I picked up my phone and called the parent's cell phone to find out where they were. They were maybe 25 minutes away from their house. I hung up, stomped around some more, then settled in front of the TV to watch, and sing a long with, Sweeney Todd. I didn't really pay attention, though. I was antsy. After thirty, or so, minutes I got up, put on my sweatshirt and headed out.
The drive was easy, traffic wasn't bad. When I got the motel my parents' car wasn't there, so I looked for a pay phone to call 'em. Got a hold of them and was told they'd be there in 15 minutes. I went to the Wendy's across the street to get some junk grub and wait. Thirty-ish minutes later, they were pulled into the parking lot and waved to me.
The motel was okay, but no one seemed to sleep very well. I blame it on the pillows. I don't like pillows that are so fluffy they make me sit up in bed or are so soft that when you put your head in the center it sinks and the two parts of the pillow to the left and right fluff up above you ears and get really hot. So, although the alarm and wake-up call were set to happen at 4, we were all up at 3:30 and ready to go by 4.
The airport was easy, but what else should one expect at 4:30 in the morning? We sat and waited until we could board. Then we boarded, which was a bit odd because we actually walked out onto the tarmac and walked up a ramp to the plane's door. I had an easterly window, so I watched the sun rise, sort of, as we flew. The sun was bright red as we came down into Portland. It was quite chilly, to me, when we got off the plane, only 39 degrees. Also, the flight time, a little over an hour, was shorter than my drive to Cowcity the night before.
We got our rental car and headed out of town going west to take the North Coast Highway (Which is Highway 101. In California, we call Highway 1 the Pacific Coast Highway.) We drove though hills and saw some great trees. I thought, based on the trees and other foliage that we were about 5000 feet above sea level, but the signs we saw showed we weren't ever much above 2000 feet. The river that flowed along the road was colored aqua, instead of the slime green of California’s rivers, and I counted at least five waterfalls pouring into it.
Breakfast was had a ways outside Tillamook, where the cheese is from, at a place called Alice's Country Restaurant, or something like that, so I hummed my way through the food. We smelled many cows, but didn't stop by the dairy for free samples. We did, however, stop at an old blimp hanger from WWII and looked at a bunch of planes. (They even had a MiG-17 and an F-14! And most of the planes are in working condition.) The hanger was built of wood and was about 200 feet tall, 300 feet wide, and 1000 feet long. It was amazing, but so very cold. The front door was open and the wind was a howlin'.
Tillamook was where we turned south and drove along the coast, sort of. It seemed like there were long periods of time when we were far from the coast. My parents and I chatted. We mocked the town that's called Hebo (I decided that it was founded by homosexual Jews). We pulled over in some other town to stretch and look out at the ocean and watch the birds fight and poop.
Eventually, we made it to my brother's house. We met the dog and the kitten. We toured the house. We drove to brother's girlfriend's school and toured her classroom. (She teaches kindergarten.) We saw the 'Bucks my brother works at and had the good pizza place pointed out to us. They all ate lentil soup for dinner, I had a sandwich with leftover chicken and cheese and pickles. We talked and eventually went to bed. My parents were in the guest room and I took the couch with three blankets, none of which were long enough for my body. The night was chilly and a bit restless.
Wednesday morning brother's girlfriend went to school early, since she hadn't prepared anything. I had a very fuzzy shirt due to all the animal hair left on the couch. After cleaning up, my family went shopping. Let me tell you, it's an odd thing to watch your parents spend several hundred dollars on your brother. Yes, I had fun walking around with them and mocking people and things in the store. My brothers and I have always been able to fall into an easy groove where everything is mock-able and our parents are good at it, too. Yes, I was happy that my brother was getting things that would help with his new life with his new, and possibly long term, partner. And, yes, knowing that my parents could afford doing this thrilled me because they can and it made them happy. But, still, a not small portion of me was wicked jealous and kept on screaming, "WHY NOT ME?! I WANT STUFF, TOO!" (They did give me money to cover parking and gas and they paid for the motel and my plane ticket.) We made three shopping trips that day and filled up the rental car completely the first two times. The second trip was for groceries. The third was to get the stuff we didn't realize we needed after putting everything away. As the sun set, we walked down to the beach (There are beaches in that part of Oregon.) where the tide was low. I'd have liked to be there during the day, but it was still quite lovely. Dinner was at an all night diner, where they have mighty fine burgers. That night I put a sheet on the couch to lessen the hair problem and used two blankets that were longer than I am tall. I was warm.
Thanksgiving we all got up a little later than we probably should have. Baking needed to be done before the turkey went in and it wasn't done until later than hoped. We thought we'd eat around 2, so brother's girlfriend told her family, who had driven in from Washington and another part of Oregon, were told to be there then. At first we were worried about dinner not being ready then, but all figured the snackie foods would take care of that. They didn't show up then, though. They showed up just before the turkey was pulled out of the oven. We mingled and ate and mingled and mingled until the parent's of the baby got fussy and left with the brother's girlfriend's parents in tow. We cleaned up and chatted and went to bed.
Friday brother's girlfriend went out with her mom and sister to get their feet done. My family tried to walk to the fossil place on the beach, but the tide was in. So, we turned around and started walking to the lighthouse out on the point. About halfway to the point where we turned around, I got really dizzy and never quite recovered. I kept walking, though. We didn't make it to the lighthouse, as suggested a couple of sentences ago, but we did make it to a lookout point where we could see sea lions lounging on a rock. We headed back without reaching the lighthouse because we had an appointment to meet with a family friend that afternoon. She used to live down the street from my grandparents and was friends with my grandma. We used to swim in her pool during the summer. We toured her house and then she took us down to the waterfront and pier. On the way, she pointed out where my grandma blew chunks when she visited. We listened to the sea lions bark and smelled the stink of boat engines and rotting crab parts. We looked at all the interesting boats (one was named Ceres, which seemed like an odd name for a boat, to me) and I teased a few gulls. Brother's girlfriend's mother joined us for dinner, homemade enchiladas rolled by my brother. We played cards while a fussy baby was passed around.
When I woke up on Saturday, my insides were screaming, "TIME TO GO! YOU'VE USED UP YOUR WELCOME! LEAVE! LEAVE! LEAVE BEFORE THEY HATE YOU!" Of course I couldn’t leave since it was my parents' rental car and the flight out wasn't until Sunday evening. So, when the rest of the people in the house went out to the fossil place and the lighthouse, with the dog, I stayed behind and read and played with the kitten (not a euphemism). They got back and started turkey soup. Brother's girlfriend's parents came over and we all headed out to a beach farther south so people could dig for agate. I mostly stood around and watched the waves crash against the rocks around us. Brother had read the charts wrong and the tide was coming in while we were there. We all ate soup together for dinner and when we finished the rest played cards while I read some more.
Sunday we woke and showered and cleaned up and hugged our way out the door before heading west to take the inland route back to Portland. Take it from me: the interior of Oregon is a lot less interesting to look at than the hill and coastal route we drove on Tuesday. We got to the airport early and waited and waited and our plane landed when we were originally supposed to board, so we left late. The airport was covered in fog, but we quickly broke through it when the plane took off and all of Portland sparkled below us as we flew south. I spent the rest of the flight reading and trying to ignore the inane chatter of the high school freshmen behind me.
The plane landed and we got our luggage and caught the transit to the parking. We hugged our good-byes and headed out. Parking was $76. At that moment, I really wished we had parked out in the economy section. Fast food was purchased for dinner and eaten as I drove. Unsafe, I know. I made it to my apartment some time after 10, I'm not sure exactly when. I pulled my stuff out of the car, brushed my teeth, emptied my bladder, and went to bed.
Oh, also on this trip, I caught a cold. My throat tickled on Saturday and soared up on Sunday. Monday my nose started leaking and my throat was raw. On Tuesday, my throat felt better, but my nose was leaking more juice. Yesterday, my snot thickened and I started to have a slight cough. Today, my cough has gotten heavier and the flem has migrated down to my throat. I expect that tomorrow I'll be hacking like mad and my lungs will have that heavy mucus feeling.
I'm sure I left stuff out and family may be by to add to what I have here. Still, this is what I remember of the trip.
When I got to my apartment on Monday I saw my answering machine flashing and hoped it was just a wrong number. It was my mom. She called just before five to let me know that they hadn't left yet; that someone was still packing. I stomped around my apartment for a while before heading off to the toilette and then to get a clean shirt. After changing I picked up my phone and called the parent's cell phone to find out where they were. They were maybe 25 minutes away from their house. I hung up, stomped around some more, then settled in front of the TV to watch, and sing a long with, Sweeney Todd. I didn't really pay attention, though. I was antsy. After thirty, or so, minutes I got up, put on my sweatshirt and headed out.
The drive was easy, traffic wasn't bad. When I got the motel my parents' car wasn't there, so I looked for a pay phone to call 'em. Got a hold of them and was told they'd be there in 15 minutes. I went to the Wendy's across the street to get some junk grub and wait. Thirty-ish minutes later, they were pulled into the parking lot and waved to me.
The motel was okay, but no one seemed to sleep very well. I blame it on the pillows. I don't like pillows that are so fluffy they make me sit up in bed or are so soft that when you put your head in the center it sinks and the two parts of the pillow to the left and right fluff up above you ears and get really hot. So, although the alarm and wake-up call were set to happen at 4, we were all up at 3:30 and ready to go by 4.
The airport was easy, but what else should one expect at 4:30 in the morning? We sat and waited until we could board. Then we boarded, which was a bit odd because we actually walked out onto the tarmac and walked up a ramp to the plane's door. I had an easterly window, so I watched the sun rise, sort of, as we flew. The sun was bright red as we came down into Portland. It was quite chilly, to me, when we got off the plane, only 39 degrees. Also, the flight time, a little over an hour, was shorter than my drive to Cowcity the night before.
We got our rental car and headed out of town going west to take the North Coast Highway (Which is Highway 101. In California, we call Highway 1 the Pacific Coast Highway.) We drove though hills and saw some great trees. I thought, based on the trees and other foliage that we were about 5000 feet above sea level, but the signs we saw showed we weren't ever much above 2000 feet. The river that flowed along the road was colored aqua, instead of the slime green of California’s rivers, and I counted at least five waterfalls pouring into it.
Breakfast was had a ways outside Tillamook, where the cheese is from, at a place called Alice's Country Restaurant, or something like that, so I hummed my way through the food. We smelled many cows, but didn't stop by the dairy for free samples. We did, however, stop at an old blimp hanger from WWII and looked at a bunch of planes. (They even had a MiG-17 and an F-14! And most of the planes are in working condition.) The hanger was built of wood and was about 200 feet tall, 300 feet wide, and 1000 feet long. It was amazing, but so very cold. The front door was open and the wind was a howlin'.
Tillamook was where we turned south and drove along the coast, sort of. It seemed like there were long periods of time when we were far from the coast. My parents and I chatted. We mocked the town that's called Hebo (I decided that it was founded by homosexual Jews). We pulled over in some other town to stretch and look out at the ocean and watch the birds fight and poop.
Eventually, we made it to my brother's house. We met the dog and the kitten. We toured the house. We drove to brother's girlfriend's school and toured her classroom. (She teaches kindergarten.) We saw the 'Bucks my brother works at and had the good pizza place pointed out to us. They all ate lentil soup for dinner, I had a sandwich with leftover chicken and cheese and pickles. We talked and eventually went to bed. My parents were in the guest room and I took the couch with three blankets, none of which were long enough for my body. The night was chilly and a bit restless.
Wednesday morning brother's girlfriend went to school early, since she hadn't prepared anything. I had a very fuzzy shirt due to all the animal hair left on the couch. After cleaning up, my family went shopping. Let me tell you, it's an odd thing to watch your parents spend several hundred dollars on your brother. Yes, I had fun walking around with them and mocking people and things in the store. My brothers and I have always been able to fall into an easy groove where everything is mock-able and our parents are good at it, too. Yes, I was happy that my brother was getting things that would help with his new life with his new, and possibly long term, partner. And, yes, knowing that my parents could afford doing this thrilled me because they can and it made them happy. But, still, a not small portion of me was wicked jealous and kept on screaming, "WHY NOT ME?! I WANT STUFF, TOO!" (They did give me money to cover parking and gas and they paid for the motel and my plane ticket.) We made three shopping trips that day and filled up the rental car completely the first two times. The second trip was for groceries. The third was to get the stuff we didn't realize we needed after putting everything away. As the sun set, we walked down to the beach (There are beaches in that part of Oregon.) where the tide was low. I'd have liked to be there during the day, but it was still quite lovely. Dinner was at an all night diner, where they have mighty fine burgers. That night I put a sheet on the couch to lessen the hair problem and used two blankets that were longer than I am tall. I was warm.
Thanksgiving we all got up a little later than we probably should have. Baking needed to be done before the turkey went in and it wasn't done until later than hoped. We thought we'd eat around 2, so brother's girlfriend told her family, who had driven in from Washington and another part of Oregon, were told to be there then. At first we were worried about dinner not being ready then, but all figured the snackie foods would take care of that. They didn't show up then, though. They showed up just before the turkey was pulled out of the oven. We mingled and ate and mingled and mingled until the parent's of the baby got fussy and left with the brother's girlfriend's parents in tow. We cleaned up and chatted and went to bed.
Friday brother's girlfriend went out with her mom and sister to get their feet done. My family tried to walk to the fossil place on the beach, but the tide was in. So, we turned around and started walking to the lighthouse out on the point. About halfway to the point where we turned around, I got really dizzy and never quite recovered. I kept walking, though. We didn't make it to the lighthouse, as suggested a couple of sentences ago, but we did make it to a lookout point where we could see sea lions lounging on a rock. We headed back without reaching the lighthouse because we had an appointment to meet with a family friend that afternoon. She used to live down the street from my grandparents and was friends with my grandma. We used to swim in her pool during the summer. We toured her house and then she took us down to the waterfront and pier. On the way, she pointed out where my grandma blew chunks when she visited. We listened to the sea lions bark and smelled the stink of boat engines and rotting crab parts. We looked at all the interesting boats (one was named Ceres, which seemed like an odd name for a boat, to me) and I teased a few gulls. Brother's girlfriend's mother joined us for dinner, homemade enchiladas rolled by my brother. We played cards while a fussy baby was passed around.
When I woke up on Saturday, my insides were screaming, "TIME TO GO! YOU'VE USED UP YOUR WELCOME! LEAVE! LEAVE! LEAVE BEFORE THEY HATE YOU!" Of course I couldn’t leave since it was my parents' rental car and the flight out wasn't until Sunday evening. So, when the rest of the people in the house went out to the fossil place and the lighthouse, with the dog, I stayed behind and read and played with the kitten (not a euphemism). They got back and started turkey soup. Brother's girlfriend's parents came over and we all headed out to a beach farther south so people could dig for agate. I mostly stood around and watched the waves crash against the rocks around us. Brother had read the charts wrong and the tide was coming in while we were there. We all ate soup together for dinner and when we finished the rest played cards while I read some more.
Sunday we woke and showered and cleaned up and hugged our way out the door before heading west to take the inland route back to Portland. Take it from me: the interior of Oregon is a lot less interesting to look at than the hill and coastal route we drove on Tuesday. We got to the airport early and waited and waited and our plane landed when we were originally supposed to board, so we left late. The airport was covered in fog, but we quickly broke through it when the plane took off and all of Portland sparkled below us as we flew south. I spent the rest of the flight reading and trying to ignore the inane chatter of the high school freshmen behind me.
The plane landed and we got our luggage and caught the transit to the parking. We hugged our good-byes and headed out. Parking was $76. At that moment, I really wished we had parked out in the economy section. Fast food was purchased for dinner and eaten as I drove. Unsafe, I know. I made it to my apartment some time after 10, I'm not sure exactly when. I pulled my stuff out of the car, brushed my teeth, emptied my bladder, and went to bed.
Oh, also on this trip, I caught a cold. My throat tickled on Saturday and soared up on Sunday. Monday my nose started leaking and my throat was raw. On Tuesday, my throat felt better, but my nose was leaking more juice. Yesterday, my snot thickened and I started to have a slight cough. Today, my cough has gotten heavier and the flem has migrated down to my throat. I expect that tomorrow I'll be hacking like mad and my lungs will have that heavy mucus feeling.
I'm sure I left stuff out and family may be by to add to what I have here. Still, this is what I remember of the trip.
Monday, December 01, 2008
My Blogs Personality
From Typealyzer.
The active and play-ful type. They are especially attuned to people and things around them and often full of energy, talking, joking and engaging in physical out-door activities.
The Doers are happiest with action-filled work which craves their full attention and focus. They might be very impulsive and more keen on starting something new than following it through. They might have a problem with sitting still or remaining inactive for any period of time.
ESTP - The Doers
The Doers are happiest with action-filled work which craves their full attention and focus. They might be very impulsive and more keen on starting something new than following it through. They might have a problem with sitting still or remaining inactive for any period of time.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Upcoming
Tuesday morning I fly out of Cowcity to head off to the green and gray state of Oregon.
Monday, hopefully around 10AM PST, I post but will not post again until the following Monday.
Monday, hopefully around 10AM PST, I post but will not post again until the following Monday.
Beware the Catgirls
Oh, Something Positive, why must you be so funny?
The full story starts earlier, but the catgirls starts here, then this happens, and then the true danger is realized.
I hope the story goes on for a while before it ends.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Cross Cultural
As my brother's girlyfriend says, "不想念书不想干活."
Although, I suppose only the second half really relates to me.
Although, I suppose only the second half really relates to me.
This Family Artist
My brother has a new art website.
Yes, that is a self-portrait on the home page. And if any of you out there were a comic nerd, like I am, you'd totally see the pencilers and inkers who have influenced his style.
I have some quibbles over his site, but it's a great start and it's nice to be able to look at his work whenever I want.
Yes, that is a self-portrait on the home page. And if any of you out there were a comic nerd, like I am, you'd totally see the pencilers and inkers who have influenced his style.
I have some quibbles over his site, but it's a great start and it's nice to be able to look at his work whenever I want.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Teaching? HA!
My grandma has decided that I'd be a perfect teacher. She decided this because I followed a two-year old and a three-year old around trying to keep them getting hurt and to give the babysitter, the first, and the parents, the second kid, some time off to just visit with people.
Basically, I followed them around and pretended to understand what they were saying when they talked to me about whatever excited them. Also, I gave them flashlights so they could walk around in the dark and watch the shadows. They were so distracted by the things around them, I didn't have to do anything more than just watch them play. Hardly what a teacher does.
When I tried to explain to her why I don't want to be a teacher and I'd not be a particularly good teacher, she didn't really hear what I said. She tends to not listen when someone says something she disagrees with. The conversation ended with her reasserting that I'd be a great teacher, especially of little kids, and me trying not to shake my head while she looked my way.
Basically, I followed them around and pretended to understand what they were saying when they talked to me about whatever excited them. Also, I gave them flashlights so they could walk around in the dark and watch the shadows. They were so distracted by the things around them, I didn't have to do anything more than just watch them play. Hardly what a teacher does.
When I tried to explain to her why I don't want to be a teacher and I'd not be a particularly good teacher, she didn't really hear what I said. She tends to not listen when someone says something she disagrees with. The conversation ended with her reasserting that I'd be a great teacher, especially of little kids, and me trying not to shake my head while she looked my way.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Bones
In the new Star Trek trailer, NewBones has a line. He says, "Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence."
It bugs me.
It bugs me because the real Dr. McCoy would have made that kind of a comment about humanity or sentient species in general, not space. The real Bones just saw space as a place where all beings were just as stupid as they were on their home worlds.
I tell you, if they get NewBones to be as great a character as the real Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy, the rest of the movie can be shit and I'll still enjoy it.
It bugs me.
It bugs me because the real Dr. McCoy would have made that kind of a comment about humanity or sentient species in general, not space. The real Bones just saw space as a place where all beings were just as stupid as they were on their home worlds.
I tell you, if they get NewBones to be as great a character as the real Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy, the rest of the movie can be shit and I'll still enjoy it.
Independent Voting
The local Democratic Party headquarters for this last election is across the street from where I work. The office is now closed, but they still have posters and banners and such up in the windows declaring that they tow the party line. One of the signs in the windows says, "Democrats register to vote here."
That got me thinking this morning: Would a no pressure, non-partisan, independent voter place be useful and wanted during major elections?
People would be allowed to register however they want.
There'd be information on the candidates and the state and local measures.
Have some expert information from the left and right side as well as middle-of-the-road statistical analysis.
Also t-shirts and bumper sticker would be sold to help support the place. (You know, we'd aim for a non-profit status.) The shirts and stickers would be both positive ("If You Want Choice, Then Vote") and apathetic/negative ("The Lesser of Two Evils is Still Evil").
Would people go for this sort of thing? Or do they mostly want to flock to a flag so they can be on the "winning" team?
That got me thinking this morning: Would a no pressure, non-partisan, independent voter place be useful and wanted during major elections?
People would be allowed to register however they want.
There'd be information on the candidates and the state and local measures.
Have some expert information from the left and right side as well as middle-of-the-road statistical analysis.
Also t-shirts and bumper sticker would be sold to help support the place. (You know, we'd aim for a non-profit status.) The shirts and stickers would be both positive ("If You Want Choice, Then Vote") and apathetic/negative ("The Lesser of Two Evils is Still Evil").
Would people go for this sort of thing? Or do they mostly want to flock to a flag so they can be on the "winning" team?
Monday, November 10, 2008
Hooray!
Randy Milholland of Something Positive (one of my favorite stories starts here), among other online comic strips, sold twenty commisions for twenty-five dollars, each, and I bought one of them.The rules were up to three characters, his or other people's, and Choo-choo Bear if you want him. No porn! (He said he could do porn for more money, but not with his characters.)
This is a scan of the picture I ordered. (He asked if it was okay.) That's PeeJee on the left, Arthur in the middle, and Aubrey on the right. And it is wonderful. It'll be hard waiting for it to reach my front door.
Thank you Mr. Milholland for this opportunity.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Starting Today
By the time this gets posted, I'll have left work for the day.
Today, I am going to speak with my doctor. She will want to speak to me about being too fat, having high blood pressure, and the fact that although my bad cholesterol is at a decent level my good cholesterol is low despite the pill she put me on. I, however, set up the appointment so I could get her to put me on some form of an antidepressant.
My original plan for this post was a history of my depression, but once I got near word 1000 and I hadn't written even a quarter of what I wanted, I decided shorter was better.
I don't know what I'll be put on and I don't know how I'll react to it, but I'm pretty sure that this is the right step.
Today, I am going to speak with my doctor. She will want to speak to me about being too fat, having high blood pressure, and the fact that although my bad cholesterol is at a decent level my good cholesterol is low despite the pill she put me on. I, however, set up the appointment so I could get her to put me on some form of an antidepressant.
My original plan for this post was a history of my depression, but once I got near word 1000 and I hadn't written even a quarter of what I wanted, I decided shorter was better.
I don't know what I'll be put on and I don't know how I'll react to it, but I'm pretty sure that this is the right step.
Huh. Fuck?
A memo from the Governator:
The office may be closed for a day. We may be asked to take a day off each month. Or I'll be accruing time off.
If this goes through, of course.
One thing I wonder, though, is how, if he wants to force us to take time off, eliminating two holidays will save money.
PS The union still hasn't gotten a contract out of his people.
The office may be closed for a day. We may be asked to take a day off each month. Or I'll be accruing time off.
If this goes through, of course.
One thing I wonder, though, is how, if he wants to force us to take time off, eliminating two holidays will save money.
PS The union still hasn't gotten a contract out of his people.
A Spec
I've only seen two episodes of The Big Bang Theory, but if I were into writing specs and thought I had a grasp on the show's structure, I have an idea for the A plot:
Penny gets a box from her parents that was delivered to Sheldon and Leonard's apartment because she wasn't home; Sheldon, against his better judgment, signed for the box. She opens it there and it's full of her old Barbie stuff. Penny reminices a bit and Sheldon is horrified that she actually opened and played with her toys. He pulls out a Wonder Woman, mint in box, Mego. When she wants to look at it he "explains" his is worth something and hers is worth nothing. Thus begins their dark alliance into the seedy world of Barbie and Mego collecting culminating in a bidding war over the ultra rare black/asian 1972 Supergirl Barbie and the success of one and the defeat of the the other and the gloating that follows.
'Course that little paragraph is all it's ever going to be.
Penny gets a box from her parents that was delivered to Sheldon and Leonard's apartment because she wasn't home; Sheldon, against his better judgment, signed for the box. She opens it there and it's full of her old Barbie stuff. Penny reminices a bit and Sheldon is horrified that she actually opened and played with her toys. He pulls out a Wonder Woman, mint in box, Mego. When she wants to look at it he "explains" his is worth something and hers is worth nothing. Thus begins their dark alliance into the seedy world of Barbie and Mego collecting culminating in a bidding war over the ultra rare black/asian 1972 Supergirl Barbie and the success of one and the defeat of the the other and the gloating that follows.
'Course that little paragraph is all it's ever going to be.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Dear California,
Welcome to a new era of institutionalized bigotry and discrimination. Jim Crow is back, although it should probably have a more gay sounding name, like Claireesa Ambrosial or something.
This year's Proposition 8 will be headed to court, I know this, but since it alters the state's constitution, it'll have to be decided by a federal appellate. No matter what the decisions of the lower appellate court, the losing side is going to push the appeal up the ladder and in the end it'll be for the Supreme Court to decide.
If the Supreme Court chooses to hear the appeal, it'll be Bush's court that does. I think we can all guess what their decision will be.
Of course, it'll ignore that clause in the 14th Amendment which says, "No state shall ... deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws," but that's beside that point. I mean, just because a corporation is considered a person under the 14th Amendment doesn't mean we should allow people to get married because some think a marriage shouldn't have too many or too few penises involved.
I'm sad. It hurts me to know that a friend I had in high school, who came out in college, can join the armed forces and be shipped around the world with a gun in his hand, but when he gets back he's not allowed to enjoy the privileges that heterosexuals have.
It may just be me, but I used to think of you as a progressive state. Sure, you didn't allow women to vote until 1911, and it took a State Supreme Court decision to allow interracial marriages in 1948, and I've watched you choose to treat children who commit crimes as adults and then increase the punishment, and this is the second time you've decided that a marriage should only involve one penis, but I wanted to believe you were good and wanted to help and protect people.
Maybe it's time for me to seriously consider leaving. I've vaguely flirted with the idea in the past, but it was never serious. Today, though, it feels more serious. Perhaps I'll move to one of those states that have practiced intolerance for hundreds of years so I'll never be disappointed when I see intolerance and fear win.
All the best of luck,
ticknart
This year's Proposition 8 will be headed to court, I know this, but since it alters the state's constitution, it'll have to be decided by a federal appellate. No matter what the decisions of the lower appellate court, the losing side is going to push the appeal up the ladder and in the end it'll be for the Supreme Court to decide.
If the Supreme Court chooses to hear the appeal, it'll be Bush's court that does. I think we can all guess what their decision will be.
Of course, it'll ignore that clause in the 14th Amendment which says, "No state shall ... deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws," but that's beside that point. I mean, just because a corporation is considered a person under the 14th Amendment doesn't mean we should allow people to get married because some think a marriage shouldn't have too many or too few penises involved.
I'm sad. It hurts me to know that a friend I had in high school, who came out in college, can join the armed forces and be shipped around the world with a gun in his hand, but when he gets back he's not allowed to enjoy the privileges that heterosexuals have.
It may just be me, but I used to think of you as a progressive state. Sure, you didn't allow women to vote until 1911, and it took a State Supreme Court decision to allow interracial marriages in 1948, and I've watched you choose to treat children who commit crimes as adults and then increase the punishment, and this is the second time you've decided that a marriage should only involve one penis, but I wanted to believe you were good and wanted to help and protect people.
Maybe it's time for me to seriously consider leaving. I've vaguely flirted with the idea in the past, but it was never serious. Today, though, it feels more serious. Perhaps I'll move to one of those states that have practiced intolerance for hundreds of years so I'll never be disappointed when I see intolerance and fear win.
All the best of luck,
ticknart
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
The Results Are In!
And no matter which ticket win, we all lose. It's just that there's a bit of hope that with one of the tickets we lose a little less.
I will be so much better when all of this is done.
Edit at 11:38AM:
One of the guys in my office just said that he likes the what he hears from Obama better than he likes what he hears from McCain, but since he's a Republican he didn't vote for Obama.
Please, can anyone explain this to me?
I will be so much better when all of this is done.
Edit at 11:38AM:
One of the guys in my office just said that he likes the what he hears from Obama better than he likes what he hears from McCain, but since he's a Republican he didn't vote for Obama.
Please, can anyone explain this to me?
Monday, November 03, 2008
Membership
As of this morning, I am a proud new contributer to the blog What's Distracting Us?.
As the fearless creator of the blog states:
It's pretty ease to see what my main niche will be over there.
As the fearless creator of the blog states:
When working in a medium sized office setting, you tend to share links with your co-workers, and then forget to show your other friends. This is a demonstration of what a recent study claims we spend 25% of our office time doing (while maintaining or even increasing productivity). Our managers, on the other hand, would call them "distractions".
It's pretty ease to see what my main niche will be over there.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Because Everyone Wants To...
Thank you, Geoff Johns, Shane Davis, and Sandra Hope, for creating the cutest evil in the galaxy!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
APE 2008
I've been planning on NOT going to APE this year. I've been to the last five and enjoyed myself, but I knew that a few of my favorite booth people aren't going to be there and there's the whole it's-hard-to-enjoy-life-when-everything-suck thing that's going on with me and work and my general down-ness.
However, now that I know that Jeph Jacques and Jennie Breeden are going to be there, the thought of staying in my apartment all weekend has become less palatable.
However, now that I know that Jeph Jacques and Jennie Breeden are going to be there, the thought of staying in my apartment all weekend has become less palatable.
Reinforcement
It really sucks how little things can reinforce the bad things you believe about yourself.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
$17.36
That's the price of my phone bill and I am aware that it's pretty good deal.
Still, as I was writing a check to pay it last night I figured that I made one call over the last month.
Still, as I was writing a check to pay it last night I figured that I made one call over the last month.
A Question
How does one tell a guy that, no, his cousin didn't just say "kite" while talking about Jewish people, in a polite way in a work environment?
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
HOORAY!
To quote me about work from something I writ last week, "Nothing's gotten harder. Nothing's gotten easier."
Well, guess what? They found a way to make it harder!
HOORAY! Hip-hip HOORAY!
Just when I thought I couldn't hate my job any more, the good people in charge figure out how to ruin the two good things about this new system: 1. I didn't have to pull files. 2. I didn't have to drop papers in files.
Now, I do.
Earlier this week I was offered overtime. For a couple of days I actually thought the mental anguish would be worth the extra money. Don't think that no more.
Well, guess what? They found a way to make it harder!
HOORAY! Hip-hip HOORAY!
Just when I thought I couldn't hate my job any more, the good people in charge figure out how to ruin the two good things about this new system: 1. I didn't have to pull files. 2. I didn't have to drop papers in files.
Now, I do.
Earlier this week I was offered overtime. For a couple of days I actually thought the mental anguish would be worth the extra money. Don't think that no more.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Work (or Why So Light on the Posts?)
To the astute observer, which would be anyone who takes the time to skim this blog, I haven't exactly been putting much substance into this here blog.
Oh, sure, I have the photos to keep my post count going up and up, but unless I go out somewhere interesting and remember my camera and then remember to take pictures, I'ma gonna run out of them photos in 'bout two weeks. Then what?
The problem is my job. (Christ, I can already hear the eyeballs rolling and the see the people sighing.) I'm at a point in the hatred of my job where it's what I mostly think about and it's what I want to talk about.
Jeez, did I find out how much I wanted to talk about it last weekend when I went to Cowtown. Nearly everyone I visited asked me how work was going (Thank you, Heels, for not.) and I'd start talking. And I had to try real hard not to just let it all go at once. It's like when you have diarrhea. Sure, you could just loosen up your sphincter, push, and let everything rush out at 65 MPH, but if you do you risk ass-plosions on the seat and severe splash back on your butt. The smart way to handle the diarrhea is to use your sphincter and let it come out in short, controlled bursts. I had to exercise that kind of control while talking to people about work. If I hadn't I could have, easily, talked about how much worse this job has become and how it's effected me for thirty minutes, and the other person wouldn't have had to ask a question during that time because questions would have just kept me going even longer.
I don't think I went on and on about my job while visiting family and friends. I hope I kept things short and to the point and never sounded like I wanted to crawl into a deep, dark hole, cover my head, and just wait until it's over.
In the end, work is all I really want to write about, too. Well, I don't really want to write about work, but it's the only thing that's going through my head. If a bomb went off in the park killing twenty kindergarteners and fifty homeless puppies and kitties, I'd still only be able to write about the crappiness of work.
Because it's always there.
Always.
I don't enjoy reading or watching TV/movies/plays like I used to.
Music isn't as fun to sing along with.
Things still make me laugh, but they aren't as funny as they used to be and I never seem to laugh as long or hard as I used to.
I have trouble falling asleep -- sometimes my brain races, sometimes I have a hard time getting comfortable, sometimes I'm comfortable and my brain's quiet but I still have to lay there and just wait for sleep to come.
I sleep through the night, with a pee break sometimes, but I don't feel as though I've slept much.
My neck aches.
I always feel tired.
Conversations are harder. Thinking is harder. Doing is harder.
My insides feel heavy.
My fingers look fat.
I don't feel cheerful anymore.
The general solution, I know, is to get another job. And I want a new job. Unfortunately, in the past two-ish years there have been nearly twenty interviews. I think I got called three times to be told I didn't get the job (and I only know of three times that my supervisor was called and asked about me). There were only five or six letters sent to me saying I didn't get the job. The rest I never heard from again, but since I haven't interviewed since July it's pretty safe to assume I didn't get those positions, either.
Now, I'm just to worn out to try. If I didn't make a good impression while I was feeling good and feeling good about myself, what kind of an impression would I make feeling the way I feel now?
There are people out there who would read that and want to tell me to hold on, to keep trying, because something good is coming. It's unhelpful to hear that, though, because I'm not even asking for something good, just something better. "Better" doesn't mean good, either. "Better" would be my job the way it used to be -- boring and thoughtless. Plus, I'm not a big fan of fate; it makes me uncomfortable.
(An aside, Geewits did this post basically describing her idea of life in a picture. All I could see was a tangle. Don't know if I would have seen it that way three months ago.)
All this is to explain, to those few of you, why I don't write as much here as I used to, but I'm not sure if I have, so I'm just going to say it:
Work is all that I want to write about, but I'm tired of writing about it. All I do is repeat myself because the problems haven't changed. Nothing's gotten harder. Nothing's gotten easier. Communication is still non-existent from the way higher-ups. The more I think about it, the more confusing work gets. If I don't think about it, though, I can't do anything that's expected of me.
I'm tired of writing about work and I'm tired of thinking about work and I think that you few are tired of reading about my job. But work is all that seems to be in me right now.
Oh, sure, I have the photos to keep my post count going up and up, but unless I go out somewhere interesting and remember my camera and then remember to take pictures, I'ma gonna run out of them photos in 'bout two weeks. Then what?
The problem is my job. (Christ, I can already hear the eyeballs rolling and the see the people sighing.) I'm at a point in the hatred of my job where it's what I mostly think about and it's what I want to talk about.
Jeez, did I find out how much I wanted to talk about it last weekend when I went to Cowtown. Nearly everyone I visited asked me how work was going (Thank you, Heels, for not.) and I'd start talking. And I had to try real hard not to just let it all go at once. It's like when you have diarrhea. Sure, you could just loosen up your sphincter, push, and let everything rush out at 65 MPH, but if you do you risk ass-plosions on the seat and severe splash back on your butt. The smart way to handle the diarrhea is to use your sphincter and let it come out in short, controlled bursts. I had to exercise that kind of control while talking to people about work. If I hadn't I could have, easily, talked about how much worse this job has become and how it's effected me for thirty minutes, and the other person wouldn't have had to ask a question during that time because questions would have just kept me going even longer.
I don't think I went on and on about my job while visiting family and friends. I hope I kept things short and to the point and never sounded like I wanted to crawl into a deep, dark hole, cover my head, and just wait until it's over.
In the end, work is all I really want to write about, too. Well, I don't really want to write about work, but it's the only thing that's going through my head. If a bomb went off in the park killing twenty kindergarteners and fifty homeless puppies and kitties, I'd still only be able to write about the crappiness of work.
Because it's always there.
Always.
I don't enjoy reading or watching TV/movies/plays like I used to.
Music isn't as fun to sing along with.
Things still make me laugh, but they aren't as funny as they used to be and I never seem to laugh as long or hard as I used to.
I have trouble falling asleep -- sometimes my brain races, sometimes I have a hard time getting comfortable, sometimes I'm comfortable and my brain's quiet but I still have to lay there and just wait for sleep to come.
I sleep through the night, with a pee break sometimes, but I don't feel as though I've slept much.
My neck aches.
I always feel tired.
Conversations are harder. Thinking is harder. Doing is harder.
My insides feel heavy.
My fingers look fat.
I don't feel cheerful anymore.
The general solution, I know, is to get another job. And I want a new job. Unfortunately, in the past two-ish years there have been nearly twenty interviews. I think I got called three times to be told I didn't get the job (and I only know of three times that my supervisor was called and asked about me). There were only five or six letters sent to me saying I didn't get the job. The rest I never heard from again, but since I haven't interviewed since July it's pretty safe to assume I didn't get those positions, either.
Now, I'm just to worn out to try. If I didn't make a good impression while I was feeling good and feeling good about myself, what kind of an impression would I make feeling the way I feel now?
There are people out there who would read that and want to tell me to hold on, to keep trying, because something good is coming. It's unhelpful to hear that, though, because I'm not even asking for something good, just something better. "Better" doesn't mean good, either. "Better" would be my job the way it used to be -- boring and thoughtless. Plus, I'm not a big fan of fate; it makes me uncomfortable.
(An aside, Geewits did this post basically describing her idea of life in a picture. All I could see was a tangle. Don't know if I would have seen it that way three months ago.)
All this is to explain, to those few of you, why I don't write as much here as I used to, but I'm not sure if I have, so I'm just going to say it:
Work is all that I want to write about, but I'm tired of writing about it. All I do is repeat myself because the problems haven't changed. Nothing's gotten harder. Nothing's gotten easier. Communication is still non-existent from the way higher-ups. The more I think about it, the more confusing work gets. If I don't think about it, though, I can't do anything that's expected of me.
I'm tired of writing about work and I'm tired of thinking about work and I think that you few are tired of reading about my job. But work is all that seems to be in me right now.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Thorough
I think my soul has been thoroughly crushed for the day.
Still, I have 25 minutes before I can leave, without getting dinged.
Unfair.
Still, I have 25 minutes before I can leave, without getting dinged.
Unfair.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Soon... s-OOOOOOOO-n
I will leave work.
I will walk to the JC to watch a play.
I will sleep.
I will get in my car and drive to Cowtown.
I will be glad to be away from here and this.
I will walk to the JC to watch a play.
I will sleep.
I will get in my car and drive to Cowtown.
I will be glad to be away from here and this.
Casting
Mailed off my absentee ballot this morning.
Sort of felt dirty after filling in the bubbles.
No matter who gets into office, their first year, or more, will be defined by the bailout passed last week unless there's a disaster of 9-11 or the 2008 Sichuan earthquake proportions.
I find myself missing the idealism of my youth and I'm not even 30.
Sort of felt dirty after filling in the bubbles.
No matter who gets into office, their first year, or more, will be defined by the bailout passed last week unless there's a disaster of 9-11 or the 2008 Sichuan earthquake proportions.
I find myself missing the idealism of my youth and I'm not even 30.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Trekkie, and What That Entails
I addressed many of my concerns about the new Star Trek movie a while ago.
Then I came across this:
So tell me, what is Star Wars? The good ones, I mean. What are those movies and what about them do the writers of the new Trek movie want in Star Trek?
Is it the action? There's no denying that there tends to be more action in Star Wars and it's hard to deny that it was the action in Star Trek: First Contact that led it to be the highest grossing TNG cast movie because it's not the most non-fan friendly story.
Is it the look and worn/used feel of the Star Wars universe? (Although I'd argue that none of the Imperial ships nor the big rebel ships look "worn." If you want a used future watch Alien; that's future tech that's getting worn out.) Star Trek isn't about being worn out, at least Starfleet isn't. For more worn and lived in future in the Trek universe there are the Klingons. Star Trek tends to be about looking to the future more than hanging on to things of the past, especially when it comes to technology.
Is it the fantasy elements and the lack of "technobabble"? One thing that's always been certain to me is the Star Trek is a harder form of science fiction than Star Wars. Trek likes to take the time to explain the science (and "science") behind everything, Wars just shows that it works and doesn't care why. (And then when it does *cough*midichlorians*cough* the explanation makes little or no sense.) Star Wars is more of a fantasy with its swords and the magical ability to crush throats from across the room and duels and such.
Is it the focus on a small main cast rather than an ensemble? The original Star Wars movies really only had three main character: Luke, Han, and Leia. In a 90- or 120-minute film a small group of main characters makes for a tighter film. One of the reasons I had a hard time watching the TNG movies was because they tried to shift the focus of a seven character ensemble TV show onto only two characters while giving the other five characters a "moment" in the films.
This choice seems the most logical to me because TOS focused on three main characters pretty exclusively.
Still, I want to know, what is Star Wars and what about it needs to be infused into Star Trek?
I think that sometimes some stories never need to be told. When they told the origin story of Wolverine in the comics it only made me sad because I had built up my own ideas about his past based on many of the things he'd done and the memories that had surface. Star Wars's most recent trilogy was a huge disappointment to me, partly because they were just bad movies, but also because, again, I'd developed my own back story for Vadar that I liked better.
Now comes this movie. Is it so bad for me to picture that James T. Kirk inherited the Enterprise from Christopher Pike. The ship already had a crew, including Spock, and a few new people came aboard with Kirk and over the five year mission they became a team and friends.
Sure, my origin isn't as exciting as a time traveling Spock and Klingons and Romulans, but it's an origin that smacks of realism and for a show so full of the fantastic the few moments of realism make the fantastical elements more acceptable.
Me? Even if it sucks I'll accept it as cannon, but I'll always remember my simple origin and continue to think it was a better storytelling choice.
Still, I hope it's good. I hope I see the ship on screen and am in awe. I hope that Uhura is more than just eye-candy and that the guy who plays Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy is a worthy successor of the subtle brilliance that DeForest Kelly brought to the roll for nearly thirty years.
God, I so very much hope.
Then I came across this:
And it's controversial to even mention Star Wars and Star Trek in the same sentence, but Alex said, "We have to bring more Star Wars into Star Trek." Original Star Wars. I want to feel the space, I want to feel speed and I want to feel all the things that can become a little bit lost when Star Trek becomes very stately -- which I love about it , but....(All quotes from this article.)
So tell me, what is Star Wars? The good ones, I mean. What are those movies and what about them do the writers of the new Trek movie want in Star Trek?
Is it the action? There's no denying that there tends to be more action in Star Wars and it's hard to deny that it was the action in Star Trek: First Contact that led it to be the highest grossing TNG cast movie because it's not the most non-fan friendly story.
Is it the look and worn/used feel of the Star Wars universe? (Although I'd argue that none of the Imperial ships nor the big rebel ships look "worn." If you want a used future watch Alien; that's future tech that's getting worn out.) Star Trek isn't about being worn out, at least Starfleet isn't. For more worn and lived in future in the Trek universe there are the Klingons. Star Trek tends to be about looking to the future more than hanging on to things of the past, especially when it comes to technology.
Is it the fantasy elements and the lack of "technobabble"? One thing that's always been certain to me is the Star Trek is a harder form of science fiction than Star Wars. Trek likes to take the time to explain the science (and "science") behind everything, Wars just shows that it works and doesn't care why. (And then when it does *cough*midichlorians*cough* the explanation makes little or no sense.) Star Wars is more of a fantasy with its swords and the magical ability to crush throats from across the room and duels and such.
Is it the focus on a small main cast rather than an ensemble? The original Star Wars movies really only had three main character: Luke, Han, and Leia. In a 90- or 120-minute film a small group of main characters makes for a tighter film. One of the reasons I had a hard time watching the TNG movies was because they tried to shift the focus of a seven character ensemble TV show onto only two characters while giving the other five characters a "moment" in the films.
This choice seems the most logical to me because TOS focused on three main characters pretty exclusively.
Still, I want to know, what is Star Wars and what about it needs to be infused into Star Trek?
It's about how the original crew came together, which was never covered in its entirety by either the show or any of the movies. No one has ever told the story of how the Enterprise set sail.Of course if it's a twenty-something Kirk newly an officer, then how is he building a crew for the ship he captains approximately ten years later?
I think that sometimes some stories never need to be told. When they told the origin story of Wolverine in the comics it only made me sad because I had built up my own ideas about his past based on many of the things he'd done and the memories that had surface. Star Wars's most recent trilogy was a huge disappointment to me, partly because they were just bad movies, but also because, again, I'd developed my own back story for Vadar that I liked better.
Now comes this movie. Is it so bad for me to picture that James T. Kirk inherited the Enterprise from Christopher Pike. The ship already had a crew, including Spock, and a few new people came aboard with Kirk and over the five year mission they became a team and friends.
Sure, my origin isn't as exciting as a time traveling Spock and Klingons and Romulans, but it's an origin that smacks of realism and for a show so full of the fantastic the few moments of realism make the fantastical elements more acceptable.
There's going to be a debate when this movie comes out whether or not it's consistent with canon. We argue that it is.And that's sort of the end of it, really. If it's a good movie, most fans will agree that it is. If it sucks and tanks Paramount will do what Warner Bros is doing to Superman Returns, pretend it never existed and most fans will go along with that.
Me? Even if it sucks I'll accept it as cannon, but I'll always remember my simple origin and continue to think it was a better storytelling choice.
Still, I hope it's good. I hope I see the ship on screen and am in awe. I hope that Uhura is more than just eye-candy and that the guy who plays Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy is a worthy successor of the subtle brilliance that DeForest Kelly brought to the roll for nearly thirty years.
God, I so very much hope.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Monday, October 06, 2008
"Nationalize"
Heard that word a lot this weekend while listening to the radio. It was all about the US nationalizing debt and banks (Freddie Mac and Fanny Mae) and Cricket Christ knows what else. I got bad shivers every time I heard it.
Never thought that word -- nationalize -- would effect me like that.
I guess it's true what they say, profit is privatized, but loss is socialized.
The more I pay attention to the outside world, the more disturbed I get. Too bad focusing on work won't work to distract me.
Never thought that word -- nationalize -- would effect me like that.
I guess it's true what they say, profit is privatized, but loss is socialized.
The more I pay attention to the outside world, the more disturbed I get. Too bad focusing on work won't work to distract me.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Friday, October 03, 2008
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
42 Things That Are Good
- "Under Pressure" by Davide Bowie and Queen
- Peanut Butter
- The first frost of fall. (Although we don't get ours here until the last week or so of November.)
- This xkcd comic.
- Methyl Salicylate, in safe amounts.
- How the hat is involved with the Golden Plates.
- Brothers
- Scott Pilgrim comics
- Barenaked Ladies, the band or the naked ladies.
- $5 night at the movie theater.
- Thinking about a comic my brother and I came up with, but will probably never make. And if it does get made, it'll never be published.
- Daria, the TV show
- "Daria," the Cake song
- Raccoon faces
- Fainting goats
- Republican blocking the bailout plan on Monday.
- The freshly cut ends from a stick of salami.
- Thunder and lightning
- Warm rains where the drops are the size of bees.
- The extra fuzzy part of carpets under couches.
- Aquaman, the best superhero
- Stargate: Atlantis
- New comic day
- Tina Fey as Sarah Palin
- Tina Fey, in general
- Pen and paper RPGs with friends
- The upside down question mark. (¿)
- Fables
- Jack of Fables
- ANSI Art
- Cheese
- Star Trek and most of what's followed.
- Low clouds pressed into flat discs.
- Wood stoves
- Prime numbers
- Why stars twinkle.
- The Muppet Show
- Blogs devoted to critically thinking about comics.
- The smell of new, pink erasers.
- Plurals that end in -ices.
- Math jokes
- 5:00 PM
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Mah Little Dumplin'
Yesterday, I roasted a chicken, which I bought on Saturday, for dinner. Didn't do anything special, except actually take the time to baste it every thirty minutes, instead of wrapping it in foil and hoping that it'll get some color during the last bit of cooking when the foil is bravely removed.
I learned, though, that I really need a smaller roasting pan thing. Mine's huge. Like turkey sized, huge. To be, sort of, fair to myself, it was the only roasting pan they had when I bought it and I did, silly me, imagine serving turkey dinners. Still, I need to find one that's chicken sized. And I'd like it to be more rounded than square.
See the problem with having a large pan for a small, in comparison to the pan, bird is that all the juice that drips quickly dries. To have anything with which to baste, I have to continually add water to the pan and hope that it'll still be there the next time I pull the bird out of the oven. It's not that I can't do it; it's just an extra step that I'd like to avoid. Plus, a smaller roasting pan would actually fit into the sink comfortably while washing dishes.
Still, when all was over the chicken came out well. I sprinkled it with my favorite pre-mixed herb, lemon pepper, and shoved some lemons up its butt. I also did lemon pepper rice. It was all very nice.
Tonight, as is the next day tradition when there's a chicken carcass around, comes soup. Already the bones were boiled and picked clean of flesh. Soon the fat will be skimmed and the veggies added. But tonight, instead of noodles in my soup, I am going to attempt the dumpling.
After checking my two cookbook and some places on the 'net, I have found that there are two ways people cook the dumpling. Many drop the dough into the broth then cover and allow to cook. Others say to rest the dumpling dough on the chicken out of the broth so it gets more of a schvitz than a bath. I shall, of course, be dropping.
I learned, though, that I really need a smaller roasting pan thing. Mine's huge. Like turkey sized, huge. To be, sort of, fair to myself, it was the only roasting pan they had when I bought it and I did, silly me, imagine serving turkey dinners. Still, I need to find one that's chicken sized. And I'd like it to be more rounded than square.
See the problem with having a large pan for a small, in comparison to the pan, bird is that all the juice that drips quickly dries. To have anything with which to baste, I have to continually add water to the pan and hope that it'll still be there the next time I pull the bird out of the oven. It's not that I can't do it; it's just an extra step that I'd like to avoid. Plus, a smaller roasting pan would actually fit into the sink comfortably while washing dishes.
Still, when all was over the chicken came out well. I sprinkled it with my favorite pre-mixed herb, lemon pepper, and shoved some lemons up its butt. I also did lemon pepper rice. It was all very nice.
Tonight, as is the next day tradition when there's a chicken carcass around, comes soup. Already the bones were boiled and picked clean of flesh. Soon the fat will be skimmed and the veggies added. But tonight, instead of noodles in my soup, I am going to attempt the dumpling.
After checking my two cookbook and some places on the 'net, I have found that there are two ways people cook the dumpling. Many drop the dough into the broth then cover and allow to cook. Others say to rest the dumpling dough on the chicken out of the broth so it gets more of a schvitz than a bath. I shall, of course, be dropping.
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