Yup, still here...
I'll post about the fabulousnessisity that was this past weekened a bit later.
Time to scrub-a-dub.
Friday, March 26, 2004
Today's the day!
Note: I was going to post this last night, but we got home late. Better late than never.
In a couple hours (it's around 940a right now), T will be getting on a plane & heading out here. So, what better way to make the day even longer than it's already going to be than to document it?
6a - I've got an hour to do some things around the homestead before I have to get moving for work. It seems that my theory on making time go faster by procrastinating has worked...a little too well. I think I may have waited a little too long to get the place straightened up.
Methinks I need to finesse this theory a wee bit.
8a - T-minus twelve & a half hours. *sigh*
948a - Time has ceased to move. I think I may have broken time by putting my procrastination theory into practice.
951a - OK, time is moving, but veeeeeery sllllooooooowllllly.
952a - See what I mean?
1030a - I think I'll go occupy myself at the scanner. Nothing says "timekiller" like scanning documents into the system.
1105a - T called. She's at the terminal waiting to board. "I'll see you tonight" is the best thing I've heard so far today.
1121a - Done with scanning for a bit. Lunch is coming up...& I've got a crapload of running around to do.
1130a - Lunch!
1230p - Back from lunch. Most of it was taken up trying to get a key cut while the person at the mailboxes & stuff store prepared a package & let a little boy help her out. Now, I like kids & all & I enjoy letting them help out on things, but when it's holding up other people...grrrr!
On a much more serious note, Carl's Jr. has stopped offering the Ranch Bacon Cheeseburger. I now officially have no reason to go back there. Except for the Crisscut Fries. And the Superstar (when I have $4 to spend on a cheeseburger). OK, I might go back.
Just not as often.
148p - Just under seven hours until she gets here.
256p - I just fashioned a bow & arrow out of two paperclips, a rubberband (a #14, for its strength, size & elasticity) & some scotch tape. And it worked! I am the weaponsmith of the Warehouse!!! Next up: a nuke made from old Skittles, the glue off the back of a Post-It note & a thumbtack.
257p - In case you hadn't noticed, I'm bored. And I get destructive when I get bored. For the sake of my coworkers, I hope time starts moving a bit faster.
403p - Just over four & a half hours. Arrrgh! Hurry up, clock! Move it! Move it! Move it!
428p - I just heard news of a controlled fire that has now become an out of control fire up near Big Bear. They've started evacuating the area. Y'know, the last time T was out here was just after the Old/Grand Prix fires.
Coincidence? Hmmm...
5p - I'm outta here! Going to get the car washed & grab a paper for while I'm waiting. Hopefully the trafic won't be too bad getting to the airport.
6ish - After a pitstop to grab a taco & only one trip around the parking lot (as opposed to the three times it took in November, I'm at the airport.
The wait begins.
615p - Oh joy. Two little kids are deciding to use the terminal as their playground. And, in typical fashion, the parents are doing the usual "Bobby, don't do that" & "Suzie, stop doing that" routine. Oh yeah, the kids are going to listen to that. Peh.
645p - I've finished the paper. Not a lot going on locally, except that it is rattlesnake season. If you get bitten, get away from the snake, stay calm & seek medical aid. Do not apply a tourniquet, try sucking out the poison or amputate the bitten limb. Do not jump up & down like a crazy person.
This PSA brought to you by MLCotW.
724p - I've finished the crossword puzzle.
Hey, I'm impressed.
I've also found out that T's flight is running ten minutes early. Yay!
758p - Twentynine minutes to go!
810p - Another family, this time with three kids (two younger & one early teen) that are all screwing around. And, of course, the parents aren't doing squat. Then they wonder why their kid's are on the six o'clock news being chased by to police.
815p - I've staked out a place right where I can see her when she gets to the stairs. The aforementioned monsters keep playing by the sliding door, causing it to open & shut. Grrr!
825p - Two. More. Minutes.
827p - Houston...my baby has landed!
845ish - She comes on down the stairs, as beautiful as the last time I saw her (which, coincidentally, was as she went up that same escalator to head back to Arkansas). I've missed her so much. She's in my arms again, weary from the trip, but, she's here.
And I am complete again...
Note: I was going to post this last night, but we got home late. Better late than never.
In a couple hours (it's around 940a right now), T will be getting on a plane & heading out here. So, what better way to make the day even longer than it's already going to be than to document it?
6a - I've got an hour to do some things around the homestead before I have to get moving for work. It seems that my theory on making time go faster by procrastinating has worked...a little too well. I think I may have waited a little too long to get the place straightened up.
Methinks I need to finesse this theory a wee bit.
8a - T-minus twelve & a half hours. *sigh*
948a - Time has ceased to move. I think I may have broken time by putting my procrastination theory into practice.
951a - OK, time is moving, but veeeeeery sllllooooooowllllly.
952a - See what I mean?
1030a - I think I'll go occupy myself at the scanner. Nothing says "timekiller" like scanning documents into the system.
1105a - T called. She's at the terminal waiting to board. "I'll see you tonight" is the best thing I've heard so far today.
1121a - Done with scanning for a bit. Lunch is coming up...& I've got a crapload of running around to do.
1130a - Lunch!
1230p - Back from lunch. Most of it was taken up trying to get a key cut while the person at the mailboxes & stuff store prepared a package & let a little boy help her out. Now, I like kids & all & I enjoy letting them help out on things, but when it's holding up other people...grrrr!
On a much more serious note, Carl's Jr. has stopped offering the Ranch Bacon Cheeseburger. I now officially have no reason to go back there. Except for the Crisscut Fries. And the Superstar (when I have $4 to spend on a cheeseburger). OK, I might go back.
Just not as often.
148p - Just under seven hours until she gets here.
256p - I just fashioned a bow & arrow out of two paperclips, a rubberband (a #14, for its strength, size & elasticity) & some scotch tape. And it worked! I am the weaponsmith of the Warehouse!!! Next up: a nuke made from old Skittles, the glue off the back of a Post-It note & a thumbtack.
257p - In case you hadn't noticed, I'm bored. And I get destructive when I get bored. For the sake of my coworkers, I hope time starts moving a bit faster.
403p - Just over four & a half hours. Arrrgh! Hurry up, clock! Move it! Move it! Move it!
428p - I just heard news of a controlled fire that has now become an out of control fire up near Big Bear. They've started evacuating the area. Y'know, the last time T was out here was just after the Old/Grand Prix fires.
Coincidence? Hmmm...
5p - I'm outta here! Going to get the car washed & grab a paper for while I'm waiting. Hopefully the trafic won't be too bad getting to the airport.
6ish - After a pitstop to grab a taco & only one trip around the parking lot (as opposed to the three times it took in November, I'm at the airport.
The wait begins.
615p - Oh joy. Two little kids are deciding to use the terminal as their playground. And, in typical fashion, the parents are doing the usual "Bobby, don't do that" & "Suzie, stop doing that" routine. Oh yeah, the kids are going to listen to that. Peh.
645p - I've finished the paper. Not a lot going on locally, except that it is rattlesnake season. If you get bitten, get away from the snake, stay calm & seek medical aid. Do not apply a tourniquet, try sucking out the poison or amputate the bitten limb. Do not jump up & down like a crazy person.
This PSA brought to you by MLCotW.
724p - I've finished the crossword puzzle.
Hey, I'm impressed.
I've also found out that T's flight is running ten minutes early. Yay!
758p - Twentynine minutes to go!
810p - Another family, this time with three kids (two younger & one early teen) that are all screwing around. And, of course, the parents aren't doing squat. Then they wonder why their kid's are on the six o'clock news being chased by to police.
815p - I've staked out a place right where I can see her when she gets to the stairs. The aforementioned monsters keep playing by the sliding door, causing it to open & shut. Grrr!
825p - Two. More. Minutes.
827p - Houston...my baby has landed!
845ish - She comes on down the stairs, as beautiful as the last time I saw her (which, coincidentally, was as she went up that same escalator to head back to Arkansas). I've missed her so much. She's in my arms again, weary from the trip, but, she's here.
And I am complete again...
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
Echoes of the past
I knew it was bound to happen one day, what with us working in the same company & all. The exgf called in for some assistance with tracking a delivery. And, of course, I was in the office by myself & had to take the call. Ugh! There was someone that I didn't ever want to hear from again. It took everything I had not to hang up or be a snotball to her.
The thing that bugged me the most though? When I had to call her back. You see, our phones have caller ID boxes on them, which is how I knew it was her calling. What got me is that my name had to have showed up on her ID box. She spoke like she didn't know me. I guess two years didn't make that much of an impression on her.
Meh.
But, right after the call (& after the waves of nausea subsided) I looked at the picture I have of T. I was reminded just how much better I have it now. And just how blessed I am; blessed with someone who cares & loves both me & my son & treats us both with caring & kindness. I look forward to a lifetime of showing her the same :)
Update She emailed me an apology for not saying "Hi" or acknowledging me or anything. Apparently, she was in "crisis mode" &, as was the case when we were together, greeting me was low on the to do list.
I've said it before & I'll say it again - meh.
I knew it was bound to happen one day, what with us working in the same company & all. The exgf called in for some assistance with tracking a delivery. And, of course, I was in the office by myself & had to take the call. Ugh! There was someone that I didn't ever want to hear from again. It took everything I had not to hang up or be a snotball to her.
The thing that bugged me the most though? When I had to call her back. You see, our phones have caller ID boxes on them, which is how I knew it was her calling. What got me is that my name had to have showed up on her ID box. She spoke like she didn't know me. I guess two years didn't make that much of an impression on her.
Meh.
But, right after the call (& after the waves of nausea subsided) I looked at the picture I have of T. I was reminded just how much better I have it now. And just how blessed I am; blessed with someone who cares & loves both me & my son & treats us both with caring & kindness. I look forward to a lifetime of showing her the same :)
Update She emailed me an apology for not saying "Hi" or acknowledging me or anything. Apparently, she was in "crisis mode" &, as was the case when we were together, greeting me was low on the to do list.
I've said it before & I'll say it again - meh.
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
Friday, March 19, 2004
The Friday Five
Finally. The real Friday is here.
If you...
1. ...owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?
Mexican. My specialty would be food that tastes great but peels the first seven layers of skin off the roof of your mouth (I still need to find some more guinea pigs for my Slow Burn Tacos). Of course, there would be food on the menu for those with a more delicate palate. That part of the menu would consist of refried beans & the shredded lettuce garnish that comes on the plate.
2. ...owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?
A record (yes, I said record) store. It would specialize in hard to find records & good, "real" music (no pop tarts or crappy, flavor of the day crapola).
3. ...wrote a book, what genre would it be?
Fiction. My autobigraphy would be more of a cautionary pamphlet.
4. ...ran a school, what would you teach?
I'd teach the new generation to recognize me as Supreme Lord & Master of the Universe - BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!
Or art.
One of the two.
5. ...recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it?
The band I was in oh so long ago specialized in three chord punk covers, so it's a safe bet there'd be more of the same. The only song that I've ever written & thought up (since I can't write it) the music to has a decidedly country flavor to it.
Yes, country.
I know. It makes me sick, too.
Finally. The real Friday is here.
If you...
1. ...owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?
Mexican. My specialty would be food that tastes great but peels the first seven layers of skin off the roof of your mouth (I still need to find some more guinea pigs for my Slow Burn Tacos). Of course, there would be food on the menu for those with a more delicate palate. That part of the menu would consist of refried beans & the shredded lettuce garnish that comes on the plate.
2. ...owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?
A record (yes, I said record) store. It would specialize in hard to find records & good, "real" music (no pop tarts or crappy, flavor of the day crapola).
3. ...wrote a book, what genre would it be?
Fiction. My autobigraphy would be more of a cautionary pamphlet.
4. ...ran a school, what would you teach?
I'd teach the new generation to recognize me as Supreme Lord & Master of the Universe - BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!
Or art.
One of the two.
5. ...recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it?
The band I was in oh so long ago specialized in three chord punk covers, so it's a safe bet there'd be more of the same. The only song that I've ever written & thought up (since I can't write it) the music to has a decidedly country flavor to it.
Yes, country.
I know. It makes me sick, too.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
One week
This time next Thursday I will be chompin' at the bit to get out of here (well, moreso than usual). T will be here a week from now. I haven't seen her in more than four months. It's been four months too long. And then, a month after she goes back, I'll be heading back to Arkansas for the wedding.
This will be the last time she gets on a plane without me :)
This time next Thursday I will be chompin' at the bit to get out of here (well, moreso than usual). T will be here a week from now. I haven't seen her in more than four months. It's been four months too long. And then, a month after she goes back, I'll be heading back to Arkansas for the wedding.
This will be the last time she gets on a plane without me :)
I tried to warn her, but would she listen?
Irene is a crafty type person. She decorates cakes, sews, scraps & all that kind of stuff. Her latest endeavor, however, has me concerned.
She's making clowns. More to the point - clown dolls.
I fear for her safety. If I have learned only one thing in my relatively short time on this planet it's that clowns are evil. Pure, unadulterated, eee-vil. And clown dolls? I do not dare to even mention the level of inky, black, dark evil that they represent. People, they exist for one purpose & one purpose only - TO EAT YOUR SOUL!!!
I keep telling her that she's playing with fire, but she's choosing to not heed my warnings. Even her husband can feel their eyeless faces looking at him as he walks past (she hasn't applied the eyes yet). She said that she thought she had twelve made, but must've only made eleven. I know where the "missing" twelfth doll is - it's hiding under the bed with a big butcher knife, just waiting for the right moment to strike & EAT HER SOUL!!!
Nobody will believe me until Irene goes missing for a few weeks. The only thing that the police will find will be a little clown doll that looks exactly like her. Then they'll believe me! They'll see! THEY'LL SEE!!!
*ahem*
Clowns are evil.
Irene is a crafty type person. She decorates cakes, sews, scraps & all that kind of stuff. Her latest endeavor, however, has me concerned.
She's making clowns. More to the point - clown dolls.
I fear for her safety. If I have learned only one thing in my relatively short time on this planet it's that clowns are evil. Pure, unadulterated, eee-vil. And clown dolls? I do not dare to even mention the level of inky, black, dark evil that they represent. People, they exist for one purpose & one purpose only - TO EAT YOUR SOUL!!!
I keep telling her that she's playing with fire, but she's choosing to not heed my warnings. Even her husband can feel their eyeless faces looking at him as he walks past (she hasn't applied the eyes yet). She said that she thought she had twelve made, but must've only made eleven. I know where the "missing" twelfth doll is - it's hiding under the bed with a big butcher knife, just waiting for the right moment to strike & EAT HER SOUL!!!
Nobody will believe me until Irene goes missing for a few weeks. The only thing that the police will find will be a little clown doll that looks exactly like her. Then they'll believe me! They'll see! THEY'LL SEE!!!
*ahem*
Clowns are evil.
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
Best laid plans
For the second day in a row, I got up at 6a (a whole hour before I normally get up) with every intention of getting ready early, maybe going out for a morning walk & getting a few things done around the homestead.
And once again, after having spent an hour reading online, I'll instead get into the shower & then head to work.
*Sigh* If my good intentions were nickels, I'd be a rich, rich man.
For the second day in a row, I got up at 6a (a whole hour before I normally get up) with every intention of getting ready early, maybe going out for a morning walk & getting a few things done around the homestead.
And once again, after having spent an hour reading online, I'll instead get into the shower & then head to work.
*Sigh* If my good intentions were nickels, I'd be a rich, rich man.
Friday, March 12, 2004
The Friday Five
A fresh batch of questions to end the week on:
What was the last song you heard?
New Year's Day - U2 My favorite U2 song.
What were the last two movies you saw?
In the theatres? Hmm...I think - LOTR:The Two Towers & The Ring (that movie freaked me out for two weeks). At home? Monty Python & The Holy Grail ("Your mother was a hamster & your father smelled of elderberries!") & The Good, The Bad & The Ugly (they don't get much uglier than the one armed bounty hunter).
What were the last three things you purchased?
Groceries, a box of Girl Scout cookies (they're made with pure crack, I just know it), a soda at work.
What four things do you need to do this weekend?
1. Think about cleaning the aparment. 2. Procrastinate about cleaning the apartment. 3. Start to clean the apatment. 4. Take a nap.
Who are the last five people you talked to?
The Boy, T, the ex, the Girl Scouts, the checkout lady.
A fresh batch of questions to end the week on:
What was the last song you heard?
New Year's Day - U2 My favorite U2 song.
What were the last two movies you saw?
In the theatres? Hmm...I think - LOTR:The Two Towers & The Ring (that movie freaked me out for two weeks). At home? Monty Python & The Holy Grail ("Your mother was a hamster & your father smelled of elderberries!") & The Good, The Bad & The Ugly (they don't get much uglier than the one armed bounty hunter).
What were the last three things you purchased?
Groceries, a box of Girl Scout cookies (they're made with pure crack, I just know it), a soda at work.
What four things do you need to do this weekend?
1. Think about cleaning the aparment. 2. Procrastinate about cleaning the apartment. 3. Start to clean the apatment. 4. Take a nap.
Who are the last five people you talked to?
The Boy, T, the ex, the Girl Scouts, the checkout lady.
Welcome to Wal-Mart! Bend over, please.
One of the female DJ's on the radio is doing a live broadcast from a prostate cancer examination dealie set up in a Wal-Mart parking lot. I feel sorry for her. She must've lost a bet or something.
The thing that I wonder about, though, is who would want to have a prostate exam done in a Wal-Mart parking lot?
Waitaminute - please don't answer that.
One of the female DJ's on the radio is doing a live broadcast from a prostate cancer examination dealie set up in a Wal-Mart parking lot. I feel sorry for her. She must've lost a bet or something.
The thing that I wonder about, though, is who would want to have a prostate exam done in a Wal-Mart parking lot?
Waitaminute - please don't answer that.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
Sure Happy It's Thursday
T will be here in just under two weeks now. This is now when the time will really start to crawl. Unless I keep putting off cleaning the closet (& the surrounding apartment). Being unprepared for someone's visit makes the time fly on by.
Just call it "using Murphy's Law to my advantage."
T will be here in just under two weeks now. This is now when the time will really start to crawl. Unless I keep putting off cleaning the closet (& the surrounding apartment). Being unprepared for someone's visit makes the time fly on by.
Just call it "using Murphy's Law to my advantage."
New digs
Amy's moved to some swanky new digs. Go check 'em out & say hi to her at Badgroove.com.
And bring her a nice fondue pot or a plant as a housewarming gift.
Amy's moved to some swanky new digs. Go check 'em out & say hi to her at Badgroove.com.
And bring her a nice fondue pot or a plant as a housewarming gift.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Da Rules of da room
I started writing about this yesterday & deleted it. Then, lo & behold, Amy brings up the subject at her site. So, I decided to give it another try & bring to you -
THE RULES OF THE MEN'S ROOM
These rules are unspoken. You don't walk into the li'l pardner's room & see them posted on the wall (although, around here, there are a few guys who could stand a refresher course on them). I think the rules are handed down genetically, from father to son. It probably goes back to Adam & Eve's boys (Adam wouldn't have known these rules as there were no other men to share the Men's Room with at the time). I imagine Cain & Abel were going about their business one day & came up with the rules.
Anyway...
The First Rule of the Men's Room is - Whilst one is leaking, there shall be no speaking (or peeking). This is a simple rule, really, yet it's one that's so often broken. When you walk in, you stop talking. It's just that easy. When you're standing there doing what you need to do, do not - I repeat, DO NOT- talk to the guy next to you. And whatever you do, DO NOT turn your head in their direction. Even if you didn't mean to, you may get a glimpse of a side of your coworker that you never, ever wanted to see.
This also applies to the stalls. No talking. Period. I once had a guy challenge me to see who could make the loudest...um...noises.
I politely declined & then left as quickly as I could.
The Second Rule of the Men's Room - If there is an emergency (you flood the toilet or run out of paper) you must wait until the Men's Room is clear & then go to the next stall. This rule kind of goes hand in hand with the First Rule. You see, if you have to ask your neighbor for the plunger or a roll of paper, you've spoken & are in clear violation of the First Rule. The best thing to do to avoid this situation? Check for paper befor settling in & make sure you don't put too much paper in the toilet. My motto: Flush & flush often.
The Third Rule of the Men's Room isn't really a rule...it's more of a right - Whatever happens in the Men's Room (sights, sounds or smells) can & will be used against you by your coworkers. And possibly posted on someones blog. That's right, people. If you gas out the place or cause the windows to rattle & someone's in there to witness it, you're fair game for much snickering & finger pointing when you get back to the office. Thus, it is always to one's advantage to go in when no one else is in there or to at least hang out until everyone has left.
So, there you have it - a reminder for the men &, hopefully, a little insight for the ladies.
I started writing about this yesterday & deleted it. Then, lo & behold, Amy brings up the subject at her site. So, I decided to give it another try & bring to you -
THE RULES OF THE MEN'S ROOM
These rules are unspoken. You don't walk into the li'l pardner's room & see them posted on the wall (although, around here, there are a few guys who could stand a refresher course on them). I think the rules are handed down genetically, from father to son. It probably goes back to Adam & Eve's boys (Adam wouldn't have known these rules as there were no other men to share the Men's Room with at the time). I imagine Cain & Abel were going about their business one day & came up with the rules.
Anyway...
The First Rule of the Men's Room is - Whilst one is leaking, there shall be no speaking (or peeking). This is a simple rule, really, yet it's one that's so often broken. When you walk in, you stop talking. It's just that easy. When you're standing there doing what you need to do, do not - I repeat, DO NOT- talk to the guy next to you. And whatever you do, DO NOT turn your head in their direction. Even if you didn't mean to, you may get a glimpse of a side of your coworker that you never, ever wanted to see.
This also applies to the stalls. No talking. Period. I once had a guy challenge me to see who could make the loudest...um...noises.
I politely declined & then left as quickly as I could.
The Second Rule of the Men's Room - If there is an emergency (you flood the toilet or run out of paper) you must wait until the Men's Room is clear & then go to the next stall. This rule kind of goes hand in hand with the First Rule. You see, if you have to ask your neighbor for the plunger or a roll of paper, you've spoken & are in clear violation of the First Rule. The best thing to do to avoid this situation? Check for paper befor settling in & make sure you don't put too much paper in the toilet. My motto: Flush & flush often.
The Third Rule of the Men's Room isn't really a rule...it's more of a right - Whatever happens in the Men's Room (sights, sounds or smells) can & will be used against you by your coworkers. And possibly posted on someones blog. That's right, people. If you gas out the place or cause the windows to rattle & someone's in there to witness it, you're fair game for much snickering & finger pointing when you get back to the office. Thus, it is always to one's advantage to go in when no one else is in there or to at least hang out until everyone has left.
So, there you have it - a reminder for the men &, hopefully, a little insight for the ladies.
Sunday, March 07, 2004
Ace of Spades & Other Delights
I'm in a crunchy music mood tonight - so much so that I made a playlist to sooth the metalhead in me.
The past ten songs:
Supernova - Liz Phair
Ace of Spades - Motorhead
Peace Sells, But Who's Buying? - Megadeth
Rusty Cage - Soundgarden
You Shook Me All Night Long - AC/DC
100% - Sonic Youth (I think I may have hurt my ears with that one)
Psychobilly Freakout - The Reverend Horton Heat
Destroyer - The Kinks
The One To Sing The Blues - Motorhead, making a second appearance (Media Player's in a crunchy mood too, apparently)
Jesus Built My Hotrod - Ministry
My ears are going to be ringing for a week. After they stop bleeding.
I'm in a crunchy music mood tonight - so much so that I made a playlist to sooth the metalhead in me.
The past ten songs:
Supernova - Liz Phair
Ace of Spades - Motorhead
Peace Sells, But Who's Buying? - Megadeth
Rusty Cage - Soundgarden
You Shook Me All Night Long - AC/DC
100% - Sonic Youth (I think I may have hurt my ears with that one)
Psychobilly Freakout - The Reverend Horton Heat
Destroyer - The Kinks
The One To Sing The Blues - Motorhead, making a second appearance (Media Player's in a crunchy mood too, apparently)
Jesus Built My Hotrod - Ministry
My ears are going to be ringing for a week. After they stop bleeding.
Quiet weekend
It's been a fairly quiet weekend so far. The Boy's with the ex this weekend. Went out to Mom's to make use of the washing machine & picked up "The Good, The Bad & The Ugly" whilst out there. I started watching it last night & realized that I must never have ever finished watching the movie before. I saw things that I don't remember being in the movie. Then, I looked at the runnig time on the DVD box & found out that it's two hours & fortyone minutes long.
Guess I'll have something to occupy me for about three hours.
I added a new read to the Regular Reads list. Go say hello to Chris at Rude Cactus.
And while you do that, I'm going to go procrastinate about finishing cleaning my closet out.
It's been a fairly quiet weekend so far. The Boy's with the ex this weekend. Went out to Mom's to make use of the washing machine & picked up "The Good, The Bad & The Ugly" whilst out there. I started watching it last night & realized that I must never have ever finished watching the movie before. I saw things that I don't remember being in the movie. Then, I looked at the runnig time on the DVD box & found out that it's two hours & fortyone minutes long.
Guess I'll have something to occupy me for about three hours.
I added a new read to the Regular Reads list. Go say hello to Chris at Rude Cactus.
And while you do that, I'm going to go procrastinate about finishing cleaning my closet out.
Friday, March 05, 2004
Friday Five
It's back - enjoy!
What was...
1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Mrs. Edwards for a month until I moved to Colton. Then it was Mrs. Rock. No foolin'.
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
Bugs Bunny & Friends. The Superfriends rocked too.
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Joel. My family would go to his family's house for the day. My mom would come into the room at about 9p to tell me we were going. Joel & I both knew that it'd be 2a before I left.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Life. With a ton of sugar.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
Play with my friends Tommy & Johnny (brothers), Angel & L'il Albert (at least that's what we were told his name meant in Spanish). We never knocked on Albert's door to get him. Instead, we'd stand at their gate & yell his name. I'm sure his parents loved us.
It's back - enjoy!
What was...
1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Mrs. Edwards for a month until I moved to Colton. Then it was Mrs. Rock. No foolin'.
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
Bugs Bunny & Friends. The Superfriends rocked too.
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Joel. My family would go to his family's house for the day. My mom would come into the room at about 9p to tell me we were going. Joel & I both knew that it'd be 2a before I left.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
Life. With a ton of sugar.
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
Play with my friends Tommy & Johnny (brothers), Angel & L'il Albert (at least that's what we were told his name meant in Spanish). We never knocked on Albert's door to get him. Instead, we'd stand at their gate & yell his name. I'm sure his parents loved us.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Eating things so you won't have to
Those of you that have been reading for awhile (all three of you) know that I have inflicted some pretty harsh punishment on my tongue & intestinal tract. There was the Squeeze Cheese. The tofu. Then, my personal favorite, the Baloney Taco. Tonight, though, Loyal Readers, I ingested something that I don't think was meant for consumption of any kind - human or otherwise.
What could possibly be worse than the Squeeze Cheese?
Ladies & Gentlemen, I present to you -
LIBBY'S POTTED MEAT PRODUCT
When I came in to work this morning, I found this innocent looking little can sitting on my desk. Irene had brought it in for me, as we had been talking about deviled ham & Vienna sausages the day before. It looked safe enough at the time, although my first clue to its true, vile nature should have been the ingredient label & the fact that you have to write in to the good folks at International Home Foods to get any nutritional information. The ingredients read as follows:
Mechanically separated chicken (that must've hurt), partially defatted cook pork fatty tissue (huh?), beef tripe (eww!), partially defatted beef fatty tissue (wha...?), vinegar, salt, spices, sugar, flavorings, sodium erythorbate & sodium nitrate
Why I did not turn & run when I read the ingredients, I do not know. Why I didn't listen to the voice in my head (probably my tongue) saying "These are not things that you should be putting in your mouth!", well, I couldn't tell you. Was it the idea of trying something new? Maybe. Was it the possibility of finding yet another cheap yet tasty food to add to the pantry? Possibly. Was it blatant stupidity on my part? Definitely.
I got home & decide to try out this canned culinary curiosity. I popped open the top & was greeted by a substance that for all intents & purposes could've been cat food. It had the color of an old Band-Aid, but the smell was not unlike a can of fine Vienna sausages, so I thought "It must be OK. Anything that smells good can't be all that bad." I prepared the bread with a generous slathering of mayonaise & mustard.
Then, things got nasty.
I put the knife into the can, expecting some resistance from the "meat." I found that the knife went clean through it. No resistance at all. It was exactly like trying to stab water. But the thing that simutaniously amazed & frightened me is that, when I tried to goad the stuff onto the bread, it had to be pushed out of the can. It wouldn't leave the can, but apparently had no solidity.
People - how can a substance be both solid & liquid at the same time?
I put the other piece of bread on top & the "meat" started oozing out the sides. No matter how hard I tried to contain the stuff, it would not quit seeping out. I then took my first bite. It wasn't too bad at first. And then -
Oh. My. Stars. And. Garters.
I could not get the stuff out of my mouth fast enough. All I could think was "By all that is Good & Holy, what have I done?!? I'm going to be sick!" I quickly grabbed a shopping bag & spit the offending mouthful out. I then placed the rest of the sandwiches (yes, there were two) in the bag & tied it off, all while trying to keep from gagging & not to let any of it come in contact with my skin.
I then tried to find anything to get the taste out of my mouth. As I write this now, a good hour after having nearly consumed this foul atrocity from the very kitchen of Hell, I still can't get the flavor out of my mouth. I can't begin to explain just what it tasted like. It was horrid. It defies description. The Squeeze Cheese was at least partly edible when mixed with chili. And the tofu, for all of its beanie weirdness, at least absorbs the flavor of what it's in. This stuff just got worse as I chewed.
I feel nauseous. You know that if something can make me feel ill that it must be bad. If it can make me gag, then for your sake, STAY AWAY FROM IT.
Ugh! Even reading the ingredients again made me queasy. Why do I do this to myself?
PS - Apparently, I'm not the only person to feel this way. There's potted meat a'plenty on Google.
Those of you that have been reading for awhile (all three of you) know that I have inflicted some pretty harsh punishment on my tongue & intestinal tract. There was the Squeeze Cheese. The tofu. Then, my personal favorite, the Baloney Taco. Tonight, though, Loyal Readers, I ingested something that I don't think was meant for consumption of any kind - human or otherwise.
What could possibly be worse than the Squeeze Cheese?
Ladies & Gentlemen, I present to you -
LIBBY'S POTTED MEAT PRODUCT
When I came in to work this morning, I found this innocent looking little can sitting on my desk. Irene had brought it in for me, as we had been talking about deviled ham & Vienna sausages the day before. It looked safe enough at the time, although my first clue to its true, vile nature should have been the ingredient label & the fact that you have to write in to the good folks at International Home Foods to get any nutritional information. The ingredients read as follows:
Mechanically separated chicken (that must've hurt), partially defatted cook pork fatty tissue (huh?), beef tripe (eww!), partially defatted beef fatty tissue (wha...?), vinegar, salt, spices, sugar, flavorings, sodium erythorbate & sodium nitrate
Why I did not turn & run when I read the ingredients, I do not know. Why I didn't listen to the voice in my head (probably my tongue) saying "These are not things that you should be putting in your mouth!", well, I couldn't tell you. Was it the idea of trying something new? Maybe. Was it the possibility of finding yet another cheap yet tasty food to add to the pantry? Possibly. Was it blatant stupidity on my part? Definitely.
I got home & decide to try out this canned culinary curiosity. I popped open the top & was greeted by a substance that for all intents & purposes could've been cat food. It had the color of an old Band-Aid, but the smell was not unlike a can of fine Vienna sausages, so I thought "It must be OK. Anything that smells good can't be all that bad." I prepared the bread with a generous slathering of mayonaise & mustard.
Then, things got nasty.
I put the knife into the can, expecting some resistance from the "meat." I found that the knife went clean through it. No resistance at all. It was exactly like trying to stab water. But the thing that simutaniously amazed & frightened me is that, when I tried to goad the stuff onto the bread, it had to be pushed out of the can. It wouldn't leave the can, but apparently had no solidity.
People - how can a substance be both solid & liquid at the same time?
I put the other piece of bread on top & the "meat" started oozing out the sides. No matter how hard I tried to contain the stuff, it would not quit seeping out. I then took my first bite. It wasn't too bad at first. And then -
Oh. My. Stars. And. Garters.
I could not get the stuff out of my mouth fast enough. All I could think was "By all that is Good & Holy, what have I done?!? I'm going to be sick!" I quickly grabbed a shopping bag & spit the offending mouthful out. I then placed the rest of the sandwiches (yes, there were two) in the bag & tied it off, all while trying to keep from gagging & not to let any of it come in contact with my skin.
I then tried to find anything to get the taste out of my mouth. As I write this now, a good hour after having nearly consumed this foul atrocity from the very kitchen of Hell, I still can't get the flavor out of my mouth. I can't begin to explain just what it tasted like. It was horrid. It defies description. The Squeeze Cheese was at least partly edible when mixed with chili. And the tofu, for all of its beanie weirdness, at least absorbs the flavor of what it's in. This stuff just got worse as I chewed.
I feel nauseous. You know that if something can make me feel ill that it must be bad. If it can make me gag, then for your sake, STAY AWAY FROM IT.
Ugh! Even reading the ingredients again made me queasy. Why do I do this to myself?
PS - Apparently, I'm not the only person to feel this way. There's potted meat a'plenty on Google.
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Monday, March 01, 2004
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