My horoscope for today:
You're in the mood for a little excitement. Actually, that's not entirely true. You're in the mood for a whole lot of excitement -- and you'd like it to be of the romantic variety. Fortunately, you just so happen to know someone who'll be happy to help you make the very most of your mood. Better give them a call now. This may not last forever, and you definitely don't want to waste it.
I know someone who'll be happy to help me? Really? I mean, yeah, of course I know just the person. But if you could just, you know, say who you think it is, and, like, give me her number, just to show that you know who it is, and to make sure we're talking about the same person...
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Thursday, April 28, 2005
So Long, Farewell...
This weekend marks the end of Kathleen’s run on my shift, as come Monday she will be off to start a new job with the company.
I have to admit, however reluctantly, that I will miss her. In the time we’ve been on the shift I’ve actually enjoyed arguing with her, and the way we were able to play off of each other’s sense of humor.
It was always nice to know that if I wasn’t prepared to cross the line into total impropriety and inappropriateness Kathleen was there to make the leap over that line, often gleefully.
And I will miss having someone to tell me to shut up, to whom I could respond, “You shut up.”
Ah well, to everything there is a season and various other platitudes about change…
I’ve actually seen a lot changes in my roughly two and a half years on this shift. After all, in the company I work for two and a half years is practically an eternity. I’m always amazed by the fact that, when I go to trainings at HQ, my three years or so with the company marks me as an old-timer compared to the vast majority of people who have been with the company for six months or even less.
So Kathleen will hardly be the first person I’ve seen come and go from this shift, and I doubt she will be the last.
Meanwhile I’m not going anywhere.
Is it because I’ve become complacent? Stagnant? Stuck in a rut?
Yes, yes, and yes.
However, it’s also because I get four days off every week.
Sure, my job isn’t as challenging or rewarding as I might like, and it can get boring, and while it does pay well, in an area where no piece of property is available for less than $200, 000 (and very few for less than $300,000), it doesn’t pay quite well enough for me to easily build the kind of future I might like to have, but on the other hand I only have to work three days a week.
Only three days, unlike certain other losers who are leaving to go to a FIVE DAY A WEEK shift, and who will have to deal with the kind of morning and evening traffic that those of us who work on weekends are able to avoid…
I imagine it will be very difficult for Brian to adapt to Kathleen’s absence. After all, now that they’ll have opposing days off they’ll hardly get to see each other.
Still, that’s got to be healthier than the way things are now. I mean, my god, I can’t imagine being married to someone and actually working with her, too. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone enough to want to spend that much time together. Sometimes I’m amazed that they haven’t killed each other.
Of course, my perspective on that sort of thing is probably skewed by the fact that for most of the last ten years I’ve lived in near-total isolation.
That’s why I often wonder how I would go about actually integrating a woman into my life if I were to somehow magically meet a woman who was willing to date me more than twice.
Having become so isolated and weird (and weirder all the time), I just don’t see how I could do it.
Apart from personality issues, though, there’s also the schedule problem that Brian and Kathleen will now have, as most people (like Kathleen) don’t have four days off during the week. So I would have to meet a woman who could successfully navigate her way through a sea of ten years’ worth of accumulated idiosyncrasies brought on by isolation and who would be willing, or able, to accommodate my unconventional schedule.
And if this increasingly hypothetical woman and I were to become serious...at this point I just can’t imagine myself actually living with someone else.
As empty (yet comfortable, thanks to those pricey sheets) as my bed feels, it would be strange to actually share it with someone.
Still, I suppose I would adapt (much like Kathleen will have to adapt to her new FIVE DAY A WEEK schedule.), though fortunately the odds don’t really favor me having to find out whether or not I can or would adapt…
In any case, that’s going to do it for this week. I hope all of my faithful Threshold readers will join me in wishing Kathleen the best of luck in her new, FIVE DAY A WEEK position, and that you all have a good weekend.
I have to admit, however reluctantly, that I will miss her. In the time we’ve been on the shift I’ve actually enjoyed arguing with her, and the way we were able to play off of each other’s sense of humor.
It was always nice to know that if I wasn’t prepared to cross the line into total impropriety and inappropriateness Kathleen was there to make the leap over that line, often gleefully.
And I will miss having someone to tell me to shut up, to whom I could respond, “You shut up.”
Ah well, to everything there is a season and various other platitudes about change…
I’ve actually seen a lot changes in my roughly two and a half years on this shift. After all, in the company I work for two and a half years is practically an eternity. I’m always amazed by the fact that, when I go to trainings at HQ, my three years or so with the company marks me as an old-timer compared to the vast majority of people who have been with the company for six months or even less.
So Kathleen will hardly be the first person I’ve seen come and go from this shift, and I doubt she will be the last.
Meanwhile I’m not going anywhere.
Is it because I’ve become complacent? Stagnant? Stuck in a rut?
Yes, yes, and yes.
However, it’s also because I get four days off every week.
Sure, my job isn’t as challenging or rewarding as I might like, and it can get boring, and while it does pay well, in an area where no piece of property is available for less than $200, 000 (and very few for less than $300,000), it doesn’t pay quite well enough for me to easily build the kind of future I might like to have, but on the other hand I only have to work three days a week.
Only three days, unlike certain other losers who are leaving to go to a FIVE DAY A WEEK shift, and who will have to deal with the kind of morning and evening traffic that those of us who work on weekends are able to avoid…
I imagine it will be very difficult for Brian to adapt to Kathleen’s absence. After all, now that they’ll have opposing days off they’ll hardly get to see each other.
Still, that’s got to be healthier than the way things are now. I mean, my god, I can’t imagine being married to someone and actually working with her, too. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone enough to want to spend that much time together. Sometimes I’m amazed that they haven’t killed each other.
Of course, my perspective on that sort of thing is probably skewed by the fact that for most of the last ten years I’ve lived in near-total isolation.
That’s why I often wonder how I would go about actually integrating a woman into my life if I were to somehow magically meet a woman who was willing to date me more than twice.
Having become so isolated and weird (and weirder all the time), I just don’t see how I could do it.
Apart from personality issues, though, there’s also the schedule problem that Brian and Kathleen will now have, as most people (like Kathleen) don’t have four days off during the week. So I would have to meet a woman who could successfully navigate her way through a sea of ten years’ worth of accumulated idiosyncrasies brought on by isolation and who would be willing, or able, to accommodate my unconventional schedule.
And if this increasingly hypothetical woman and I were to become serious...at this point I just can’t imagine myself actually living with someone else.
As empty (yet comfortable, thanks to those pricey sheets) as my bed feels, it would be strange to actually share it with someone.
Still, I suppose I would adapt (much like Kathleen will have to adapt to her new FIVE DAY A WEEK schedule.), though fortunately the odds don’t really favor me having to find out whether or not I can or would adapt…
In any case, that’s going to do it for this week. I hope all of my faithful Threshold readers will join me in wishing Kathleen the best of luck in her new, FIVE DAY A WEEK position, and that you all have a good weekend.
I'm The Best...Around
I spent the better portion of Tuesday finally getting around to doing my spring cleaning.
It was kind of a pain, and it took longer than I had expected it to, but at least now the place is reasonably clean, so for the foreseeable future all I have to worry about is the usual build up of clutter (junk mail, empty grocery bags, etc.), and the usual maintenance.
As I cleaned the place I was struck, as I often am, by the overall lack of décor.
Sure, there are a few pictures hanging here and there, but for the most part my walls are bare, my lifestyle appears rather spartan, and in general my apartment is just as lacking in the personalization department as it was when I moved in almost two and a half years ago.
I suppose there are a lot of reasons for that.
For one thing, I don’t have a lot of photographs. I just plain don’t own very many. I’ve never been one to take pictures. The only time I really had many pictures was back when I was married, and I didn’t really hold on to any of those after things ended.
I’ve got the nieces and nephews up on the refrigerator, and some family pictures on my desk, but that’s pretty much it.
These are the current contents of my walls: two of my drawings of Britney Spears; a mirror; a print of the sketch “Abundance” by Botticelli; a clock (in the kitchen); an Alex Ross calendar; a cheesy foil painting (in the bathroom); a poster of Elektra by Greg Horn; a black and white photograph of two women kissing entitled “Kiss.”
So I don’t have much in the way of photographs and assorted knickknacks to begin with, and after paying the bills, feeding myself, and making the occasional major electronics purchase I don’t usually have much money lying around with which to purchase more.
And of course if I do have money to spend on home décor items I’m not especially inclined to actually do so.
That’s mostly because it seems like a waste of money (like bedding, most items of décor don’t have much in the way of gimmicky features), and the fact of the matter is that, thanks to the nature of renting I can never be certain how much longer I’m going to live here.
After all, there’s the distinct possibility that when the lease comes up for renewal, rent will be raised to a level that I’m either unwilling or unable to pay and I’ll be forced to move…with that much more junk to have to haul around thanks to my decorating efforts.
Of course, just as permanence is an illusion, maybe impermanence is also an illusion. After all, it seems unlikely that I’ll be going anywhere anytime real soon, so there could be some value in investing in items designed to make my home feel more like home.
But that leads us inexorably to the question of “why.”
Why should I bother decorating the place? It’s a rare thing indeed for me to have company, so if I were prettying up the place it would, presumably, be for my own benefit, and I think it’s pretty clear that I don’t care enough for it to be worth the effort.
After all, I’m not going to manage to impress myself.
My brother Brad goes through a lot of trouble to beautify his living space, even though it’s just him and his dogs, but while his place does look nice (or at least it always has; I haven’t seen where he’s living now), I just can’t see it as being worth the time and effort if I’m the only one who’s going to get to appreciate it.
And if by some miracle (and at this point we’re probably talking about a parting the Red Sea class miracle) I were to meet a woman, the odds are she would want to put her own indelible stamp onto my home a la the “woman’s touch.”
So I guess the whole point of this is décor, shmécor.
On that note, I do have to say that my new bedding was incredibly comfortable.
Still too damned expensive, though…
Chris, one of the people I work with, is into karate, to the extent that he flies all around the country to compete in tournaments. Naturally the rest of us make endless (and merciless) “Karate Kid” comments to and about him.
One of the more pervasive of late has been about the extremely cheesy “You're the best ... around ... nothing's ever gonna keep you down!” montage from the original movie.
Brian, Scott, Kathleen, and I all make frequent comments about it, and have gone so far as to download the song just to play it for Chris’ benefit (or, perhaps more accurately, humiliation).
Of course, the side-effect is that periodically all of us have “You're the best ... around ... nothing's ever gonna keep you down” stuck in our heads.
The frequency of that occurring has been increasing for me. For example, last Friday morning while I was working out and struggling on the shoulder press, I could hear strains of singer Joe Esposito informing me that I am, in fact, the best…around, and that nothing is ever going to keep me down.
This wasn’t so much inspirational as it was irritating as hell.
Still, it did occur to me that it would be cool if life could work like a sports training montage.
I mean, how cool would it be if time could just whiz by like that, giving you maximum returns for minimum effort?
The stirring music would swell up and we’d see quick cuts of me working out, struggling to send that stack of weights up, and slowly, but surely, making more and more progress, or drinking some disgusting-looking health drink, and all of it interspersed with shots of me making time with my hot new girlfriend, who had formerly dated my biggest rival, though she’s now seen him for the jerk that he is and has fallen for my sweet, if slightly goofy charm, and at the end of it all I’m totally buff.
That would be a total of like a minute and a half of actual exercise and at the end I’d look like the cover model for “Men’s Health.” It would be the next best thing to being bitten by a radioactive spider or saying “Shazam” and getting hit by a bolt of lightning.
Of course, if I had to pick a cheesy 80’s anthem to be the soundtrack to my montage, I think I’d be more likely to go with Sammy Hagar’s “Over the Top.”
In any case, there are a few things I want to do with the waning hours of my last day off, so that’ll do it for now, though I may be back later with a final thought for the week.
It was kind of a pain, and it took longer than I had expected it to, but at least now the place is reasonably clean, so for the foreseeable future all I have to worry about is the usual build up of clutter (junk mail, empty grocery bags, etc.), and the usual maintenance.
As I cleaned the place I was struck, as I often am, by the overall lack of décor.
Sure, there are a few pictures hanging here and there, but for the most part my walls are bare, my lifestyle appears rather spartan, and in general my apartment is just as lacking in the personalization department as it was when I moved in almost two and a half years ago.
I suppose there are a lot of reasons for that.
For one thing, I don’t have a lot of photographs. I just plain don’t own very many. I’ve never been one to take pictures. The only time I really had many pictures was back when I was married, and I didn’t really hold on to any of those after things ended.
I’ve got the nieces and nephews up on the refrigerator, and some family pictures on my desk, but that’s pretty much it.
These are the current contents of my walls: two of my drawings of Britney Spears; a mirror; a print of the sketch “Abundance” by Botticelli; a clock (in the kitchen); an Alex Ross calendar; a cheesy foil painting (in the bathroom); a poster of Elektra by Greg Horn; a black and white photograph of two women kissing entitled “Kiss.”
So I don’t have much in the way of photographs and assorted knickknacks to begin with, and after paying the bills, feeding myself, and making the occasional major electronics purchase I don’t usually have much money lying around with which to purchase more.
And of course if I do have money to spend on home décor items I’m not especially inclined to actually do so.
That’s mostly because it seems like a waste of money (like bedding, most items of décor don’t have much in the way of gimmicky features), and the fact of the matter is that, thanks to the nature of renting I can never be certain how much longer I’m going to live here.
After all, there’s the distinct possibility that when the lease comes up for renewal, rent will be raised to a level that I’m either unwilling or unable to pay and I’ll be forced to move…with that much more junk to have to haul around thanks to my decorating efforts.
Of course, just as permanence is an illusion, maybe impermanence is also an illusion. After all, it seems unlikely that I’ll be going anywhere anytime real soon, so there could be some value in investing in items designed to make my home feel more like home.
But that leads us inexorably to the question of “why.”
Why should I bother decorating the place? It’s a rare thing indeed for me to have company, so if I were prettying up the place it would, presumably, be for my own benefit, and I think it’s pretty clear that I don’t care enough for it to be worth the effort.
After all, I’m not going to manage to impress myself.
My brother Brad goes through a lot of trouble to beautify his living space, even though it’s just him and his dogs, but while his place does look nice (or at least it always has; I haven’t seen where he’s living now), I just can’t see it as being worth the time and effort if I’m the only one who’s going to get to appreciate it.
And if by some miracle (and at this point we’re probably talking about a parting the Red Sea class miracle) I were to meet a woman, the odds are she would want to put her own indelible stamp onto my home a la the “woman’s touch.”
So I guess the whole point of this is décor, shmécor.
On that note, I do have to say that my new bedding was incredibly comfortable.
Still too damned expensive, though…
Chris, one of the people I work with, is into karate, to the extent that he flies all around the country to compete in tournaments. Naturally the rest of us make endless (and merciless) “Karate Kid” comments to and about him.
One of the more pervasive of late has been about the extremely cheesy “You're the best ... around ... nothing's ever gonna keep you down!” montage from the original movie.
Brian, Scott, Kathleen, and I all make frequent comments about it, and have gone so far as to download the song just to play it for Chris’ benefit (or, perhaps more accurately, humiliation).
Of course, the side-effect is that periodically all of us have “You're the best ... around ... nothing's ever gonna keep you down” stuck in our heads.
The frequency of that occurring has been increasing for me. For example, last Friday morning while I was working out and struggling on the shoulder press, I could hear strains of singer Joe Esposito informing me that I am, in fact, the best…around, and that nothing is ever going to keep me down.
This wasn’t so much inspirational as it was irritating as hell.
Still, it did occur to me that it would be cool if life could work like a sports training montage.
I mean, how cool would it be if time could just whiz by like that, giving you maximum returns for minimum effort?
The stirring music would swell up and we’d see quick cuts of me working out, struggling to send that stack of weights up, and slowly, but surely, making more and more progress, or drinking some disgusting-looking health drink, and all of it interspersed with shots of me making time with my hot new girlfriend, who had formerly dated my biggest rival, though she’s now seen him for the jerk that he is and has fallen for my sweet, if slightly goofy charm, and at the end of it all I’m totally buff.
That would be a total of like a minute and a half of actual exercise and at the end I’d look like the cover model for “Men’s Health.” It would be the next best thing to being bitten by a radioactive spider or saying “Shazam” and getting hit by a bolt of lightning.
Of course, if I had to pick a cheesy 80’s anthem to be the soundtrack to my montage, I think I’d be more likely to go with Sammy Hagar’s “Over the Top.”
In any case, there are a few things I want to do with the waning hours of my last day off, so that’ll do it for now, though I may be back later with a final thought for the week.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
I Made My Bed And ALL I Get To Do Is Lie In It?
I woke up fully intending to go for a walk, but soon found myself just planted in front of my computer not doing much of anything until finally it was late enough that I had to take a shower and get dressed.
Kathleen had an eye doctor appointment here in Ashburn today, so we had made plans to meet for lunch and do some shopping.
Since I needed one, and the place I go to is right next to the eye doctor, I decided I’d get a haircut before meeting her.
I decided that it’s a good thing that I’m usually early (I can’t stand sitting at home waiting; I’d rather go where I need to go and wait there, if need be), as a combination of being busy and short-staffed meant I had a lengthy wait before I could get my haircut.
I think I’ve mentioned before that over the years I’ve come to the conclusion that certain Hollywood myths just have no basis in reality.
(We won’t talk about how “geek babes” are a myth, for fear of Wendy chopping my head off)
Most of the movies and TV shows I’ve seen would have you believe that all cosmetologists, like flight attendants, are extremely hot young women.
In all the times I’ve flown I think I’ve seen exactly one flight attendant who was even somewhat hot, though probably not nearly so hot as she might have been, say, fifteen to twenty years before that.
As for cosmetologists…well, with a few exceptions, most of the ones I’ve encountered haven’t exactly been supermodels, and even the exceptions weren’t that…exceptional.
In any case, today’s encounter was no exception. Between the two stylists and the two female customers the women in the place must have been carrying about a thousand pounds combined weight.
Yikes.
Beyond that, though, it was an odd group.
The woman who cut my hair had her baby there with her, sleeping in a car seat next to her workstation.
The baby slept and was quiet for most of the time…until the other stylist kept demonstrating the fact that her clippers made a weird, loud noise. She did it several times for no reason, and each time, understandably, it disturbed the baby greatly.
The two other customers were kind of odd as well. They had come in together, and I thought at first that they were mother and daughter. It may be that my assessment was correct, but the younger (though still older than I am) woman seemed to be of ambiguous ethnicity, while the older woman was white, and there didn’t appear to be any sort of family resemblance.
While they were sitting and waiting they were talking about some woman named Melissa (I think; I wasn’t really listening, as I was engrossed in a copy of “In Touch” magazine). The older woman said, “I feel a little sorry for her.”
The younger woman asked why, and the older woman said, “She was raped by her neighbor. I guess he cut her up really bad.”
…
Okay, first of all, I don’t know that this is a conversation you want to be having, loudly, in public.
Second of all, you feel a “little” sorry for her?
I don’t even know this woman and I feel extremely sorry for her. I mean, WTF?
Even though I had gotten there several minutes before the Odd Couple (the possible mother/daughter weirdness team), the younger of the two was called in ahead of me when one of the stylists finished with her customer.
But whatever.
While she was getting her hair cut the woman commented on the pictures of the stylist’s daughter that she had up in her work area.
The stylist mentioned that now, in contrast to when most of the pictures were taken, apparently, her daughter is 12½.
From there the conversation somehow turned to discussion of the daughter’s cup size and the fact that she never takes her bra off for fear of future sagging.
It got stranger when the woman getting her hair cut started talking about how she can tell that her “chubby little six year old” is going to have big boobs.
Again, WTF?
So while I honestly would have liked for my hair to have gotten cut a bit shorter, I bolted out of the place at my first opportunity.
From there it was a matter of waiting for Kathleen. Some sort of issue with the lenses (she was there for orthokeratology, which involves reshaping the eyes with contact lenses) led her to have to call Brian and have him pick up some other lenses from the doctor’s Leesburg office to bring them to Ashburn for her.
She decided that we would go to lunch, have Brian meet us, and then she would just go back to the eye doctor after we finished everything.
Getting to the restaurant took forever, thanks to one point on the road where, thanks to construction, two lanes merged. Once we got there it was overrun with children.
My lunch was one of the unhealthiest things I’ve had in a while (A burger with bacon and a fried egg on it…why can’t things that are good for you taste that good?).
We parted company with Brian, and from there we hit a couple of stores, and eventually made our way back to the eye doctor, from which I made my way home with my new purchases.
In addition to a Firewire and S-Video cable for connecting the DVR to my computer, I picked up a little four-drawer storage unit and new bedding.
I’ve needed new bedding for a while, and what I bought is extremely nice, but…well, it was a bit pricey.
As far as I’m concerned, at least.
I mean, $125 for a comforter, sheets, and pillowcases? WTF? It’s just bedding; it’s not like it can do anything cool like wirelessly stream MP3s from my computer or something.
Why is bedding so expensive anyway? As mentioned, it has no electronic components or gimmicky features, which are the only things that, in my mind, can justify a high price.
Am I supposed to believe that cotton and polyester are rare commoditites?
What is the justification for the expense? Recouping R&D costs?
Paying for the extensive benefits packages those kids in the sweatshops are collecting?
I just don’t get it.
In any case, the bedding is very nice. The comforter set (comforter, bed skirt, pillow shams) is this soft faux-suede material with an embroidered pattern. The sheets are 400 thread count cotton sateen.
As I said, it’s very nice.
Too bad I’m the only one who’ll get to enjoy it, though, especially since I’m annoyed at how much it cost.
I mean, $125 and it doesn’t even have e-mail capabilities…
On the technological front, the S-Video cable, as I knew it would, worked very nicely when connected to my computer’s TV tuner card.
The Firewire cable, which, theoretically, would provide me direct access to the DVR’s hard drive, however, was another matter entirely.
When I was at Best Buy looking for the cable, and indeed, well before that when I decided to buy a Firewire cable, the thought that there might be different kinds of Firewire cables never even occurred to me.
Having never messed with Firewire peripherals, I just assumed that there was a standard cable type, which was silly, considering that I’ve had issues with non-standard USB cables in the past, so I should have known better.
In any case, once I got home I discovered that I had 4 pin to 6 pin cable, but what I needed was a 6 pin to 6 pin.
So I wasn’t able to hook up the DVR.
I didn’t feel like dealing with traffic to go out and buy another cable (I figure on keeping this one in case I ever do pick up another Firewire device), so I decided that I can wait a while to try it out.
After all, with four two-hour movies saved on the DVR I’m only using 10% of the capacity of the hard drive, so there’s no immediate need to try to move anything off.
Because I knew it would be cheaper, and since I was willing to wait, I decided to order the correct cable from an online supplier. I'll probably get it by Monday anyway, which will be just in time for me to try messing around with it.
In any case, that’s it for right now. I may (or may not) write more later.
Kathleen had an eye doctor appointment here in Ashburn today, so we had made plans to meet for lunch and do some shopping.
Since I needed one, and the place I go to is right next to the eye doctor, I decided I’d get a haircut before meeting her.
I decided that it’s a good thing that I’m usually early (I can’t stand sitting at home waiting; I’d rather go where I need to go and wait there, if need be), as a combination of being busy and short-staffed meant I had a lengthy wait before I could get my haircut.
I think I’ve mentioned before that over the years I’ve come to the conclusion that certain Hollywood myths just have no basis in reality.
(We won’t talk about how “geek babes” are a myth, for fear of Wendy chopping my head off)
Most of the movies and TV shows I’ve seen would have you believe that all cosmetologists, like flight attendants, are extremely hot young women.
In all the times I’ve flown I think I’ve seen exactly one flight attendant who was even somewhat hot, though probably not nearly so hot as she might have been, say, fifteen to twenty years before that.
As for cosmetologists…well, with a few exceptions, most of the ones I’ve encountered haven’t exactly been supermodels, and even the exceptions weren’t that…exceptional.
In any case, today’s encounter was no exception. Between the two stylists and the two female customers the women in the place must have been carrying about a thousand pounds combined weight.
Yikes.
Beyond that, though, it was an odd group.
The woman who cut my hair had her baby there with her, sleeping in a car seat next to her workstation.
The baby slept and was quiet for most of the time…until the other stylist kept demonstrating the fact that her clippers made a weird, loud noise. She did it several times for no reason, and each time, understandably, it disturbed the baby greatly.
The two other customers were kind of odd as well. They had come in together, and I thought at first that they were mother and daughter. It may be that my assessment was correct, but the younger (though still older than I am) woman seemed to be of ambiguous ethnicity, while the older woman was white, and there didn’t appear to be any sort of family resemblance.
While they were sitting and waiting they were talking about some woman named Melissa (I think; I wasn’t really listening, as I was engrossed in a copy of “In Touch” magazine). The older woman said, “I feel a little sorry for her.”
The younger woman asked why, and the older woman said, “She was raped by her neighbor. I guess he cut her up really bad.”
…
Okay, first of all, I don’t know that this is a conversation you want to be having, loudly, in public.
Second of all, you feel a “little” sorry for her?
I don’t even know this woman and I feel extremely sorry for her. I mean, WTF?
Even though I had gotten there several minutes before the Odd Couple (the possible mother/daughter weirdness team), the younger of the two was called in ahead of me when one of the stylists finished with her customer.
But whatever.
While she was getting her hair cut the woman commented on the pictures of the stylist’s daughter that she had up in her work area.
The stylist mentioned that now, in contrast to when most of the pictures were taken, apparently, her daughter is 12½.
From there the conversation somehow turned to discussion of the daughter’s cup size and the fact that she never takes her bra off for fear of future sagging.
It got stranger when the woman getting her hair cut started talking about how she can tell that her “chubby little six year old” is going to have big boobs.
Again, WTF?
So while I honestly would have liked for my hair to have gotten cut a bit shorter, I bolted out of the place at my first opportunity.
From there it was a matter of waiting for Kathleen. Some sort of issue with the lenses (she was there for orthokeratology, which involves reshaping the eyes with contact lenses) led her to have to call Brian and have him pick up some other lenses from the doctor’s Leesburg office to bring them to Ashburn for her.
She decided that we would go to lunch, have Brian meet us, and then she would just go back to the eye doctor after we finished everything.
Getting to the restaurant took forever, thanks to one point on the road where, thanks to construction, two lanes merged. Once we got there it was overrun with children.
My lunch was one of the unhealthiest things I’ve had in a while (A burger with bacon and a fried egg on it…why can’t things that are good for you taste that good?).
We parted company with Brian, and from there we hit a couple of stores, and eventually made our way back to the eye doctor, from which I made my way home with my new purchases.
In addition to a Firewire and S-Video cable for connecting the DVR to my computer, I picked up a little four-drawer storage unit and new bedding.
I’ve needed new bedding for a while, and what I bought is extremely nice, but…well, it was a bit pricey.
As far as I’m concerned, at least.
I mean, $125 for a comforter, sheets, and pillowcases? WTF? It’s just bedding; it’s not like it can do anything cool like wirelessly stream MP3s from my computer or something.
Why is bedding so expensive anyway? As mentioned, it has no electronic components or gimmicky features, which are the only things that, in my mind, can justify a high price.
Am I supposed to believe that cotton and polyester are rare commoditites?
What is the justification for the expense? Recouping R&D costs?
Paying for the extensive benefits packages those kids in the sweatshops are collecting?
I just don’t get it.
In any case, the bedding is very nice. The comforter set (comforter, bed skirt, pillow shams) is this soft faux-suede material with an embroidered pattern. The sheets are 400 thread count cotton sateen.
As I said, it’s very nice.
Too bad I’m the only one who’ll get to enjoy it, though, especially since I’m annoyed at how much it cost.
I mean, $125 and it doesn’t even have e-mail capabilities…
On the technological front, the S-Video cable, as I knew it would, worked very nicely when connected to my computer’s TV tuner card.
The Firewire cable, which, theoretically, would provide me direct access to the DVR’s hard drive, however, was another matter entirely.
When I was at Best Buy looking for the cable, and indeed, well before that when I decided to buy a Firewire cable, the thought that there might be different kinds of Firewire cables never even occurred to me.
Having never messed with Firewire peripherals, I just assumed that there was a standard cable type, which was silly, considering that I’ve had issues with non-standard USB cables in the past, so I should have known better.
In any case, once I got home I discovered that I had 4 pin to 6 pin cable, but what I needed was a 6 pin to 6 pin.
So I wasn’t able to hook up the DVR.
I didn’t feel like dealing with traffic to go out and buy another cable (I figure on keeping this one in case I ever do pick up another Firewire device), so I decided that I can wait a while to try it out.
After all, with four two-hour movies saved on the DVR I’m only using 10% of the capacity of the hard drive, so there’s no immediate need to try to move anything off.
Because I knew it would be cheaper, and since I was willing to wait, I decided to order the correct cable from an online supplier. I'll probably get it by Monday anyway, which will be just in time for me to try messing around with it.
In any case, that’s it for right now. I may (or may not) write more later.
A Pun I Couldn't Resist
Here we see my first attempt at rendering Monica Keena, the actress who was in "Freddy Vs. Jason," and who has been on my mind since I saw her in it.
I think it turned out okay, especially for a first attempt. I mean, it's not like with Britney, or Jessica Simpson, whom I could probably draw in my sleep at this point, since I've drawn them so many times.
Unfortunately there probably won't be too many more pictures of her that I'll draw, as source material is fairly limited.
There will be a couple, though. Somewhere along the line I'll also finish a Fontaine picture I started a couple of weeks ago, and I just stumbled across a really high-quality picture of Jessica Simpson as Daisy Duke, so that's in the wings as well.
In any case, you'll have to forgive me for the horrible pun in the picture's title, which is "Bikeena."
See, her name is Keena, and she's wearing a bikini top, so...
Anyway, I'll be back later with more of an entry, but I thought I'd at least post this.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
New Outfit
"Red Wendy" has gotten herself some new clothes.
So the obvious question is this: chain mail...does it chafe?
Seriously, though, it's a very cool new outfit.
Dream Casting
There's a character who appears in several "Sin City" stories whose name is Delia, though she's also known as "Blue Eyes."
In Miller's stylistic black and white with occasional splashes of color, Delia's eyes are always presented as blue, as is whatever she happens to be wearing (whenever she happens to be wearing anything at all).
As mentioned, Delia appears in several stories, but she appears most prominently in "Hell and Back," a lengthy story which Rodriguez and Miller had originally considered filming as the first SC movie.
Obviously they didn't go that route, but since Rodriguez has stated that he wants to film all of the "Sin City" yarns, and since the first movie did well enough to warrant a sequel (over $60 million so far), it seems likely that "Hell" will get made, and I've read that it's likely to be the first sequel.
Apparently Johnny Depp had been talked about for the lead role of Wallace during the initial plans, which, I think, is a good choice.
Beyond Wallace, though, I've found myself, every so often, imaginatively casting various other roles in the movie.
Beyonce, I think, would be ideally suited for the role of Esther, Wallace's love interest. Honestly, that one is pretty much a no-brainer.
But who, I wondered, would be best-suited for the role of the sexy, seductive, and deadly blue-eyed femme fatale that is Delia?
I've been at a loss to think of anyone.
Yesterday I mentioned how much I enjoyed looking at actress Monica Keena in "Freddy Vs. Jason."
She's actually become a sort of mini-obsession for me right now (a drawing of her is forthcoming), and while I was thinking about how cute she was in that awful movie, it occurred to me that she would be perfect for the part of Delia, as we can see below:
These aren't the best pictures of either Delia or Monica (while it should be obvious, I'll make it perfectly clear: Delia is on the left, Monica is on the right), but I think you can see that it wouldn't be much of a stretch for the petite, yet zaftig, Monica to portray the petite, yet zaftig, Delia.
Now if ayone reading this has any influence over the casting decisions made by Rodriguez, pass this along.
Of course, my dream casting wouldn't be complete unless Ms. Keena takes a less prudish approach to the character's frequent nudity than Jessica Alba did with Nancy...
In Miller's stylistic black and white with occasional splashes of color, Delia's eyes are always presented as blue, as is whatever she happens to be wearing (whenever she happens to be wearing anything at all).
As mentioned, Delia appears in several stories, but she appears most prominently in "Hell and Back," a lengthy story which Rodriguez and Miller had originally considered filming as the first SC movie.
Obviously they didn't go that route, but since Rodriguez has stated that he wants to film all of the "Sin City" yarns, and since the first movie did well enough to warrant a sequel (over $60 million so far), it seems likely that "Hell" will get made, and I've read that it's likely to be the first sequel.
Apparently Johnny Depp had been talked about for the lead role of Wallace during the initial plans, which, I think, is a good choice.
Beyond Wallace, though, I've found myself, every so often, imaginatively casting various other roles in the movie.
Beyonce, I think, would be ideally suited for the role of Esther, Wallace's love interest. Honestly, that one is pretty much a no-brainer.
But who, I wondered, would be best-suited for the role of the sexy, seductive, and deadly blue-eyed femme fatale that is Delia?
I've been at a loss to think of anyone.
Yesterday I mentioned how much I enjoyed looking at actress Monica Keena in "Freddy Vs. Jason."
She's actually become a sort of mini-obsession for me right now (a drawing of her is forthcoming), and while I was thinking about how cute she was in that awful movie, it occurred to me that she would be perfect for the part of Delia, as we can see below:
These aren't the best pictures of either Delia or Monica (while it should be obvious, I'll make it perfectly clear: Delia is on the left, Monica is on the right), but I think you can see that it wouldn't be much of a stretch for the petite, yet zaftig, Monica to portray the petite, yet zaftig, Delia.
Now if ayone reading this has any influence over the casting decisions made by Rodriguez, pass this along.
Of course, my dream casting wouldn't be complete unless Ms. Keena takes a less prudish approach to the character's frequent nudity than Jessica Alba did with Nancy...
Monday, April 25, 2005
(Mostly) Unscheduled Day
At some point during my workout on Friday morning I pulled something in my back. Throughout the day it started to hurt more and more, making such complex and demanding physical tasks as breathing extremely painful.
Saturday morning found me with only a dull ache, and since my Saturday workout isn’t that intense I went in early and did it.
I regretted doing so, so I decided that I would skip the workout on Sunday in order to give it some time to heal.
The weekend was largely uneventful, though Saturday morning I did remember to check the DVR and found that in the time I’d left it on it had finally downloaded the program guide.
So last night I set it to record two movies that I wanted to watch, but which were on well after I would have gone to bed (even with not getting up early to workout I still had to get up at 5 am, so it’s difficult to stay up late on Sunday nights).
The first movie was “Reefer Madness,” Showtime’s adaptation of the musical based on the incredibly bad 1936 anti-marijuana propaganda movie.
Anyone who’s seen the original “Madness” knows how unintentionally hilarious it was.
The modern version aims for deliberate laughs, and often misses, but is on-target often enough to be worth watching (even if it was made by those bastards at Showtime who took my beloved “Dead Like Me” away).
The other movie was “Jason vs. Freddy.” Yes, it is incredibly cheesy, but hey, I’ve seen enough of both of their movies to figure it was worth watching the two of them together.
It was about as bad as I expected, so I’m glad I didn’t bother seeing it in theaters or rent it.
One thing about it that was sort of stood out about the movie is that, despite following essentially the same formula, both characters’ movies have their own distinctive qualities, and one would have expected a movie featuring both of them to sort of bring those qualities together.
There was a definite attempt to do that, but the melding was less than organic, feeling incredibly artificial and ultimately leading to something less than the sum of its parts.
The one bright spot was the pure, chaste, and virtuous heroine, portrayed by actress Monica Keena.
What a cutie. Only 5’ 1½” but with proportions designed for a much taller woman, if you know what I mean….all right, I’ll come out and say it: she’s got huge boobs.
I’ve seen her in other things, most notably different episodes of the Law & Order shows, but she was especially cute in this, though that was mostly because of the tight, white (often wet) top she was wearing.
Beyond her most obvious assets, though, she has an overall “fullness” that is very pleasing to look at, and she is a very pretty young woman
At one point in the movie, Freddy got his claws on her and actually cut up her chest a little.
I yelled, “You inhuman monster! Why would you do anything to mess up such perfect boobs?”
I mean, killing little kids and horny teenagers is one thing, but some things are just way out of bounds…
Today was another “unscheduled” day, as I didn’t put together anything for it in my planner.
I got up, watched “Madness” (which lost points for me, by the way, by being a musical; I just don’t like musicals), talked to my mom, took a shower, watched “Freddy Vs. Jason,” and then headed out for the one thing I did have written in my planner.
That was my “consultation” at the oral surgeon my dentist referred me to for getting my teeth pulled.
I was annoyed about having to go for the consultation in the first place, and I was even more annoyed after it was over.
When I arrived I had to fill out some paperwork, and then I sat and waited. And waited.
Finally the doctor met with me, talked to me for about five minutes, and then we were done.
I then had to wait even longer to schedule the actual appointment.
The whole thing ended up costing me $10.
No, that’s not a lot of money, but considering that my insurance was charged considerably more than that ($85 to be exact), it was pretty annoying.
After all, basically the doctor told me a bunch of stuff that I already knew, namely that he was going to pull some of my teeth and that I have different options for anesthesia, but that I’d probably be fine with just Novocain.
There’s some reason they couldn’t have just told me this over the phone?
I mean, yeah, I had to fill out paperwork to let them know who my insurance provider is and whatnot, but considering that this was a referral, couldn’t they have just gotten that information straight from my dentist?
The whole thing was just a pointless waste of time and money.
As it is, I won’t actually be going in to get the teeth pulled until June 6th.
It’s just as well, as I have to wait at least four weeks for my gums to heal enough to get my partial, and if I did it any time before the end of May I’d have to go home with still-healing gums.
In any case, that was pretty much my day. Nothing especially interesting or exciting.
I may write more later, but I doubt it, so I hope this will be enough for you.
Somehow, if I don’t write more, though, I think you’ll manage…
Saturday morning found me with only a dull ache, and since my Saturday workout isn’t that intense I went in early and did it.
I regretted doing so, so I decided that I would skip the workout on Sunday in order to give it some time to heal.
The weekend was largely uneventful, though Saturday morning I did remember to check the DVR and found that in the time I’d left it on it had finally downloaded the program guide.
So last night I set it to record two movies that I wanted to watch, but which were on well after I would have gone to bed (even with not getting up early to workout I still had to get up at 5 am, so it’s difficult to stay up late on Sunday nights).
The first movie was “Reefer Madness,” Showtime’s adaptation of the musical based on the incredibly bad 1936 anti-marijuana propaganda movie.
Anyone who’s seen the original “Madness” knows how unintentionally hilarious it was.
The modern version aims for deliberate laughs, and often misses, but is on-target often enough to be worth watching (even if it was made by those bastards at Showtime who took my beloved “Dead Like Me” away).
The other movie was “Jason vs. Freddy.” Yes, it is incredibly cheesy, but hey, I’ve seen enough of both of their movies to figure it was worth watching the two of them together.
It was about as bad as I expected, so I’m glad I didn’t bother seeing it in theaters or rent it.
One thing about it that was sort of stood out about the movie is that, despite following essentially the same formula, both characters’ movies have their own distinctive qualities, and one would have expected a movie featuring both of them to sort of bring those qualities together.
There was a definite attempt to do that, but the melding was less than organic, feeling incredibly artificial and ultimately leading to something less than the sum of its parts.
The one bright spot was the pure, chaste, and virtuous heroine, portrayed by actress Monica Keena.
What a cutie. Only 5’ 1½” but with proportions designed for a much taller woman, if you know what I mean….all right, I’ll come out and say it: she’s got huge boobs.
I’ve seen her in other things, most notably different episodes of the Law & Order shows, but she was especially cute in this, though that was mostly because of the tight, white (often wet) top she was wearing.
Beyond her most obvious assets, though, she has an overall “fullness” that is very pleasing to look at, and she is a very pretty young woman
At one point in the movie, Freddy got his claws on her and actually cut up her chest a little.
I yelled, “You inhuman monster! Why would you do anything to mess up such perfect boobs?”
I mean, killing little kids and horny teenagers is one thing, but some things are just way out of bounds…
Today was another “unscheduled” day, as I didn’t put together anything for it in my planner.
I got up, watched “Madness” (which lost points for me, by the way, by being a musical; I just don’t like musicals), talked to my mom, took a shower, watched “Freddy Vs. Jason,” and then headed out for the one thing I did have written in my planner.
That was my “consultation” at the oral surgeon my dentist referred me to for getting my teeth pulled.
I was annoyed about having to go for the consultation in the first place, and I was even more annoyed after it was over.
When I arrived I had to fill out some paperwork, and then I sat and waited. And waited.
Finally the doctor met with me, talked to me for about five minutes, and then we were done.
I then had to wait even longer to schedule the actual appointment.
The whole thing ended up costing me $10.
No, that’s not a lot of money, but considering that my insurance was charged considerably more than that ($85 to be exact), it was pretty annoying.
After all, basically the doctor told me a bunch of stuff that I already knew, namely that he was going to pull some of my teeth and that I have different options for anesthesia, but that I’d probably be fine with just Novocain.
There’s some reason they couldn’t have just told me this over the phone?
I mean, yeah, I had to fill out paperwork to let them know who my insurance provider is and whatnot, but considering that this was a referral, couldn’t they have just gotten that information straight from my dentist?
The whole thing was just a pointless waste of time and money.
As it is, I won’t actually be going in to get the teeth pulled until June 6th.
It’s just as well, as I have to wait at least four weeks for my gums to heal enough to get my partial, and if I did it any time before the end of May I’d have to go home with still-healing gums.
In any case, that was pretty much my day. Nothing especially interesting or exciting.
I may write more later, but I doubt it, so I hope this will be enough for you.
Somehow, if I don’t write more, though, I think you’ll manage…
Sunday, April 24, 2005
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