So last night I lied; after I posted my main entry I didn’t do any drawing, even though that had been my intention.
Shortly after I finished posting I was to watch this new show on Fox, “The Inside,” which, so far, hasn’t been spectacular, but has at least been watchable (last night’s episode was really messed up), but just as I was getting ready to sit down and watch it, my phone rang.
I knew right away that it wasn’t my mom, Kathleen, or Scott, who are the only people likely to call me, and as it was a totally unfamiliar area code, I assumed that it was a wrong number.
It turned out to be my friend Eric, finally getting around to giving me a call, as per my request of a nearly two months ago, when I sent him a letter (followed up by an e-mail).
One of the main things I wanted to talk to him about, apart from just talking to him, as it’d been over a year since I’d last done so, was to see if he’d be interested in going with me to Wendy’s convention in September.
As I’ve mentioned before, I would kind of like to go, but I’m not terribly inclined to drive hundreds of miles to an unfamiliar place full of unfamiliar people by myself, so I’d hoped that Eric would be willing to accompany me.
Unfortunately, the convention is the same weekend as his wife’s birthday, so that’s not going to happen.
So that leaves the question of whether or not I’ll go up in the air. I feel as though I should, but, again, my natural inclination is not to go towards large gatherings of people…
It was nice to talk to Eric after an extended lack of meaningful contact (after he moved from MD to DE I lost his phone number, and he doesn’t own a computer, so I have to wait for him to go to a library to check his e-mail), though of course it was kind of strange, as pretty much everything is, I’ve decided, when you get to be my age.
I can’t really describe the exact manner in which everything is strange, but suffice to say that everything is, and that’s really all that can be said.
I suppose that age isn’t the only factor, though, as in the past five years my entire view of, and approach to, life has changed pretty dramatically, thanks to the fact that I’m sober.
The sobriety creates certain issues when it comes to interacting with people with whom I used to get drunk on a regular basis, and I’m not sure there’s anyone around with whom I got drunk on a more regular basis than Eric. Jeff or other members of my circle of friends from that particular period in my drinking career are contenders for that title, I suppose, but there are no “drinking buddies” around with whom I still have contact other than Eric.
It should be noted that Eric got rather a bad rap from my mother back in the day, as she sort of viewed him as a bad influence on me in regards to my drinking. Little did she realize (though she does now) that I was, in fact, the bad influence on him.
In that regard, at least.
Adding to the strangeness was the fact that during our conversation we exchanged recipes.
I suppose that’s not really so odd, considering my interest in cooking and the fact that Eric is actually an excellent cook himself, but even so, it felt a bit strange.
Certainly it wasn’t a conversation we would have had at any of the earlier stages of our fifteen-year friendship.
So as I say, strange.
He’s actually going home to the U.P. for an extended visit next month, and he mentioned that he’d be happy to move back there if he could do so and still make the sort of money he does where he is now (which is more or less an impossibility; the money just isn’t there to be made in the U.P.).
For my part, I have no interest in returning for anything more than a visit. If I could relocate myself, at present salary levels, anywhere, I’d probably go back to Tucson.
Sort of related to the notion of the homecoming, though, we talked about the difficulty that some people have in leaving “the nest,” and he talked about the “support system” that can be hard to leave behind.
It seemed to me, then, that I obviously don’t form any sort of deep attachments in any particular place, or at least not the sort that would prevent me from being able to move on.
After all, I’ve pulled up stakes and moved my entire life on more than one occasion.
That doesn’t mean I did so cavalierly or without qualms, or that I haven’t missed any of the people I left behind, but there are people for whom the prospect of missing people is just too daunting, and so they could never even consider moving on. Clearly, I’m not one of them.
I mentioned this to Eric, and in response to my comments about picking up my life an moving it, he said, “But why do you keep following me?”
After all, the first time I up and left town it was to move in with him in Minnesota, and of course I moved fairly near him when I left Tucson to come here.
I told him it should be obvious; I’m secretly in love with him. Or rather, I have a psychotic attachment to him, and it’s my hope that one day we’ll be one person, which I’ll accomplish through the fashioning of an authentic “Eric suit,” a la “Silence of the Lambs.”
Of course we were both joking, and in reference to our time in Minnesota, he said, “I liked living with you better than I liked living with my ex-wife.”
When I was getting close to home during my walk this morning (which, again, I took earlier than usual, thanks to a certain not-so-quiet youngster outside my window), I saw something that really made me wish I’d had my camera with me.
There’s a Chevy Chase Bank branch office across the street from me, and in the mostly cloudy skies there was a slight break in the cover, allowing a shaft of sunlight, which stood in stark contrast to the gray of the skies, to shine down upon the bank and made it look as if God Himself were making use of the ATM.
Chevy Chase currently has an ad campaign in which Benjamin Franklin endorses the bank, but the image I saw this morning, I think, would earn them a few more points with people…
I really didn’t accomplish much this week. After I got off the phone with Eric last night I sat down to watch “The Inside,” which I recorded on the DVR, then it was time for “The Daily Show,” and by the time that was over I didn’t feel like working on a picture, as had originally been my intention.
Ah well, it’s not as if it really matters one way or the other if I accomplish anything, though.
Next week I’m even less likely to accomplish much, as on Tuesday and Wednesday I’ll be getting trained in HTML, which is a skill I’ve been meaning to pick up for the past ten years or so. Some things just take time, I guess.
In any case, that’s going to do it for this week. I hope you all have a good weekend.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Trailer for "Mirrormask"
Go here to see a trailer for the movie "Mirrormask," which was written by Neil Gaiman and directed by Gaiman's friend and "Sandman" cover artist Dave McKean.
It definitely looks interesting, particularly for fans of Gaiman's work, but also for fans of movies like "The Dark Crystal" and "Labyrinth."
Check it out.
It definitely looks interesting, particularly for fans of Gaiman's work, but also for fans of movies like "The Dark Crystal" and "Labyrinth."
Check it out.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Surprisingly Equitable
I woke up this morning at around 7:00, without any assistance from the loud-mouthed drama queen who’s woken me up the past two days, though I didn’t end up staying awake.
Instead I went back to sleep until just before 9:00, at which point I got up, threw my contacts in, and went for my four-mile walk.
Upon my return I made my protein shake, then took a shower.
In the afternoon I had to go in to work for a meeting of my department.
We have these meetings periodically, as they’re pretty much the only times we can actually get everyone together to discuss current and upcoming process changes, and to hash out any complaints. It also gives those of us who work the weekend shifts a little bit of “face time” with our upper management.
In fact, short of having the CEO of the company there, pretty much the very top of upper management was at the meeting. For the past two years or so he’s been the VP of our department, but a recent change in the organizational structure has bumped him up a notch, so he’s more or less the person with ultimate direct authority over us.
Sure, there are a couple of people above him, but they don’t really get involved in our specific operations.
In any case, he gave us a little pep talk, answered some questions, then ducked out, and we got on with our usual “housecleaning” activities.
One of the things mentioned during the meeting was that a study had been performed in order to determine how equitably employees at our company were being compensated compared across departments within the company and with employees in similar positions at other companies.
The end result was that some employees needed to have their compensation levels bumped up a little in order to achieve parity.
During the meeting I was sitting next to Scott. I noticed that he was holding onto some letters, letters that looked like the sort of things we get from HR whenever we get promoted or receive our merit increases. As I knew that Scott wanted us to hang out after the meeting to talk to him, it was my hope that these letters indicated that we were among the employees receiving an adjustment.
Turns out that we were among the employees in need of an adjustment, and I have to say that it was a pretty substantial increase.
The increase doesn’t take effect in time for me to get an increase in my OT pay for this meeting (mandatory meetings equal a minimum of four hours of OT even if they don’t actually take four hours), but the timing is just right for the sixteen hours of OT I’ll be putting in next week when I take an HTML training class, so that’s very cool.
I actually live about thirteen miles from work. On weekend mornings, thanks to stoplights, it takes me about twenty minutes to drive in.
The meeting started, officially, at 1:00, but we were encouraged to be there for 12:30.
Allowing for traffic, I left a bit before noon, figuring I’d get there in about a half an hour.
Apparently, though, everyone in Loudoun County needed to be on the road at that exact minute, so, with the perpetual construction that’s taking place on the closest, non-toll road that takes me where I needed to go, after about a half an hour I was less than halfway there.
The flow of traffic, if it can be called a “flow,” was the paradoxical sort that moves when the light is red and stops when the light is green.
Realizing that I would be late if I stayed the course, as soon as I could I turned onto a road that led me to the Greenway, the privately owned and extremely expensive toll road.
Being willing to pay the premium was the only thing that allowed me to be on time for the meeting.
Of course, when I took my usual, much cheaper route home, I got hit with the “Low Balance” flash at the toll booth, meaning that my Smart Tag will need to be replenished, as I’ve used up $25 worth of the $35 balance I started out with. If I hadn’t taken the Greenway, that probably wouldn’t have happened for a few more days.
Once I got home I decided to cook an actual meal, but the whole chewing thing still isn’t my strongest suit, so it was kind of a hassle.
And that’s pretty much been my day. I’m probably going to try to do some drawing (most likely a picture of Jessica Simpson from that new video), but I may be back with another entry later.
Instead I went back to sleep until just before 9:00, at which point I got up, threw my contacts in, and went for my four-mile walk.
Upon my return I made my protein shake, then took a shower.
In the afternoon I had to go in to work for a meeting of my department.
We have these meetings periodically, as they’re pretty much the only times we can actually get everyone together to discuss current and upcoming process changes, and to hash out any complaints. It also gives those of us who work the weekend shifts a little bit of “face time” with our upper management.
In fact, short of having the CEO of the company there, pretty much the very top of upper management was at the meeting. For the past two years or so he’s been the VP of our department, but a recent change in the organizational structure has bumped him up a notch, so he’s more or less the person with ultimate direct authority over us.
Sure, there are a couple of people above him, but they don’t really get involved in our specific operations.
In any case, he gave us a little pep talk, answered some questions, then ducked out, and we got on with our usual “housecleaning” activities.
One of the things mentioned during the meeting was that a study had been performed in order to determine how equitably employees at our company were being compensated compared across departments within the company and with employees in similar positions at other companies.
The end result was that some employees needed to have their compensation levels bumped up a little in order to achieve parity.
During the meeting I was sitting next to Scott. I noticed that he was holding onto some letters, letters that looked like the sort of things we get from HR whenever we get promoted or receive our merit increases. As I knew that Scott wanted us to hang out after the meeting to talk to him, it was my hope that these letters indicated that we were among the employees receiving an adjustment.
Turns out that we were among the employees in need of an adjustment, and I have to say that it was a pretty substantial increase.
The increase doesn’t take effect in time for me to get an increase in my OT pay for this meeting (mandatory meetings equal a minimum of four hours of OT even if they don’t actually take four hours), but the timing is just right for the sixteen hours of OT I’ll be putting in next week when I take an HTML training class, so that’s very cool.
I actually live about thirteen miles from work. On weekend mornings, thanks to stoplights, it takes me about twenty minutes to drive in.
The meeting started, officially, at 1:00, but we were encouraged to be there for 12:30.
Allowing for traffic, I left a bit before noon, figuring I’d get there in about a half an hour.
Apparently, though, everyone in Loudoun County needed to be on the road at that exact minute, so, with the perpetual construction that’s taking place on the closest, non-toll road that takes me where I needed to go, after about a half an hour I was less than halfway there.
The flow of traffic, if it can be called a “flow,” was the paradoxical sort that moves when the light is red and stops when the light is green.
Realizing that I would be late if I stayed the course, as soon as I could I turned onto a road that led me to the Greenway, the privately owned and extremely expensive toll road.
Being willing to pay the premium was the only thing that allowed me to be on time for the meeting.
Of course, when I took my usual, much cheaper route home, I got hit with the “Low Balance” flash at the toll booth, meaning that my Smart Tag will need to be replenished, as I’ve used up $25 worth of the $35 balance I started out with. If I hadn’t taken the Greenway, that probably wouldn’t have happened for a few more days.
Once I got home I decided to cook an actual meal, but the whole chewing thing still isn’t my strongest suit, so it was kind of a hassle.
And that’s pretty much been my day. I’m probably going to try to do some drawing (most likely a picture of Jessica Simpson from that new video), but I may be back with another entry later.
I Don't Know If "Stella" Has A Groove To Get Back...
If you've seen ads for the new Comedy Central series "Stella" and have wondered what it's about, you can go here and see a complete episode before it premieres on June 28th.
While the fact that the episode is there can't really be disputed (unless it gets taken down), whether or not it's worth going there to watch it is another matter entirely.
It definitely had some funny moments, but overall I'd say it's pretty weak, and I don't foresee it having a long life.
The show features three members of "The State," and it actually comes off very much like an extended "State" sketch...one of the not-so funny sketches.
Still, if you want to check it out...
While the fact that the episode is there can't really be disputed (unless it gets taken down), whether or not it's worth going there to watch it is another matter entirely.
It definitely had some funny moments, but overall I'd say it's pretty weak, and I don't foresee it having a long life.
The show features three members of "The State," and it actually comes off very much like an extended "State" sketch...one of the not-so funny sketches.
Still, if you want to check it out...
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Yes, Kid, I Kind Of DO Want You To
It was such a lovely day I thought it a pity to get up. - W. Somerset Maugham
This morning at around 7:30, just as I was yesterday, I was awoken by the sound of a kid screaming at his mother as it was being ushered off to school, or daycare, or kiddie prison, or whatever.
Yes, I did just use “it” as the pronoun to refer to the child, as the child is young enough that gender is rather indeterminate based solely on the sound of its voice. I suspect, however, that it was a boy, so from this point on I’ll refer to the child with the male pronoun.
Unlike yesterday’s, this morning’s screaming wasn’t about anything in particular, it was merely a function of the fact that young children seem to be incapable of understanding that most people can hear you even when you’re not shouting at the top of your lungs.
Yesterday, though, the child, who apparently has foregone developing a sense of the appropriate volume level for conversational speaking in favor of a strong sense of melodrama, was bemoaning the fact that, in her rush to make him someone else’s problem for the day, his mother had caused him some sort of injury.
From what I could gather lying there, faced with no choice but to hear this exchange, the child had broken free from his mother’s grasp, stopped where he was, and begun shouting, “You scratched my wrist!”
This was, apparently, the most traumatic thing that had ever happened to him, as he felt the need to restate the nature of his injury several times, at an ever-increasing volume.
I recall a time when I was very young, perhaps the same age as the loud-mouthed drama queen hollering outside my window, when I had fallen on some concrete steps and hit my head, causing a minor cut to appear. Having only a vague understanding of anatomy, I was initially convinced that this injury meant certain death for me, as it was inevitable that my brain would fall out. After all, my head was “split open.”
As far as I can tell, my brain did not fall out, though I suppose that’s open to debate.
In any case, I can only assume that the little drama queen was equipped with a similarly flawed view of human anatomy, as, in response to his mother’s less than solicitous reaction to his injury, which I couldn’t hear, but would assume that, in tone, if not in so many words, consisted of saying, “Quit your crying and get in the goddamn car, you little pansy, so that I can get rid of you for the day and finally get some damn peace and quiet,” he began, with a suitably theatric, teary flair, to cry out, “You want me to die, don’t you?”
He repeated this several times as well, and I found myself lying there suppressing the urge to yell that I wouldn’t be utterly opposed to events ending in that manner.
Yes, I know, I’m a horrible person, but how well would you respond to being awoken at 7:30 in the morning by some pre-school-aged melodramatic hypochondriac screaming outside your window?
In any case, this morning was less dramatic, though no less loud. Still, it didn’t last as long, and it would have been easy for me to drift blissfully back to sleep if my cell phone hadn’t begun ringing.
The cell phone was on my dining room table, and as it had taken me a while to realize that it was even ringing at all, by the time I got to it and pressed “Talk” I was too late.
I didn’t recognize the number on the Caller ID, though, so I assumed it was a wrong number, particularly since whoever it was didn’t leave a message.
Still, in case it was something important and the person called back I brought the phone with me to the bedroom. As I was beginning to doze it rang, I answered, and, as suspected found that it was a wrong number.
But by this time I was fully awake, so I got up, cleaned my contacts, did some Web surfing, and then went for my morning walk a bit earlier than usual.
Because it was earlier, I encountered unfamiliar people, and though I have to say that most of the women (all married) were hotter than the ones I usually encounter, they were a lot less friendly, as I didn’t get a single “good morning” from any of them. It almost made me miss my “regulars.” Almost.
Speaking of hot, yet unfriendly women, as I’ve mentioned before, at my job there are certain areas to which access is restricted, many of which I have access to. In order to keep that access, though, the company requires undergoing a “revalidation” process, which basically consists of going to a 45 minute class in which a facilities person talks about how the heating, cooling, the fire suppression, and the electrical systems in the building work and, finally, which is really the only reason anyone has to take the class, the rules and regulations for accessing the restricted areas.
I’d taken the class two years ago, and, apparently, can look forward to having to take it again in two years.
In any case, mixed in with the twenty or so guys who were at the class when I took it this past Friday was one woman. And while in a sausage fest such as that any woman would stand out anyway, this one was actually really damned hot.
She also looked really damned young. And really damned bitchy. And really damned resentful about having to be in a room taking a boring-ass class while surrounded by a bunch of nerds in whose company she’d ordinarily never be caught dead.
Later, when I returned to work I mentioned the hot, young, bitchy-looking girl I’d seen in the class to Chris.
On this particular Friday we were having yet another “Beer Bash” out on the front lawn in the afternoon, which is basically just what it sounds like: a party with beer.
This one was different from most, as they were also holding volleyball and bocce ball tournaments in addition to just having music, snacks, and of course, beer.
I usually go out just to see what kind of snacks they have and to see who from the group I work in has come in on his or her day off to drink free beer provided by the company, and this time was no exception.
Chris, however, had actually gone out to participate in the volleyball tournament (the team he was on representing our group came in fifth place, which is to say they totally lost), and afterwards he said, “You think that chick you saw was hot? You should have seen the chick who was out there,” and proceeded to describe the same girl I’d told him about, though he was able to provide some more information about her than I was able to glean from merely seeing her.
It turns out that she’s an intern, which isn’t terribly surprising considering just how young she looked.
He seems to think he has some sort of “hook up” with her, as his roommate (If you can actually call Jamie that. What do you call the woman whose basement you live in?) knows the person that the girl is working for. I shrugged at this information as it was really no concern of mine. After all, the girl was far too young for an old coot like me, and it’s a safe bet that I wouldn’t be her type. Outside of movies, girls like that are never interested in guys like me.
And by “girls like that” I mean human.
I’m kidding, of course. I’m sure there are lots of great women who would be interested in me, and one day, if I just hang in there and keep my eyes open and my chin up I’m sure to find the right one.
God, when I say it that sounds even dumber and more hollow than it has coming from the other people who have been telling me that for the last decade…
Anyway, this morning after I got back from my walk I made myself a protein shake, did some more Web surfing, then said, “The hell with it,” and went back to bed until around 1:00.
I got up, did not much of anything for about an hour and a half, then watched “30 Minute Meals” and went for another walk.
It’s even hotter today that it was yesterday, so once again I was soaked with sweat by the time I got home.
I then began writing this, and, with time taken out to make another meal that required very little in the way of chewing, as my gums are still pretty tender, and to watch “The Simpsons,” ultimately made it to where you now find me.
And where is that? Wrapping up this entry, that’s where.
This morning at around 7:30, just as I was yesterday, I was awoken by the sound of a kid screaming at his mother as it was being ushered off to school, or daycare, or kiddie prison, or whatever.
Yes, I did just use “it” as the pronoun to refer to the child, as the child is young enough that gender is rather indeterminate based solely on the sound of its voice. I suspect, however, that it was a boy, so from this point on I’ll refer to the child with the male pronoun.
Unlike yesterday’s, this morning’s screaming wasn’t about anything in particular, it was merely a function of the fact that young children seem to be incapable of understanding that most people can hear you even when you’re not shouting at the top of your lungs.
Yesterday, though, the child, who apparently has foregone developing a sense of the appropriate volume level for conversational speaking in favor of a strong sense of melodrama, was bemoaning the fact that, in her rush to make him someone else’s problem for the day, his mother had caused him some sort of injury.
From what I could gather lying there, faced with no choice but to hear this exchange, the child had broken free from his mother’s grasp, stopped where he was, and begun shouting, “You scratched my wrist!”
This was, apparently, the most traumatic thing that had ever happened to him, as he felt the need to restate the nature of his injury several times, at an ever-increasing volume.
I recall a time when I was very young, perhaps the same age as the loud-mouthed drama queen hollering outside my window, when I had fallen on some concrete steps and hit my head, causing a minor cut to appear. Having only a vague understanding of anatomy, I was initially convinced that this injury meant certain death for me, as it was inevitable that my brain would fall out. After all, my head was “split open.”
As far as I can tell, my brain did not fall out, though I suppose that’s open to debate.
In any case, I can only assume that the little drama queen was equipped with a similarly flawed view of human anatomy, as, in response to his mother’s less than solicitous reaction to his injury, which I couldn’t hear, but would assume that, in tone, if not in so many words, consisted of saying, “Quit your crying and get in the goddamn car, you little pansy, so that I can get rid of you for the day and finally get some damn peace and quiet,” he began, with a suitably theatric, teary flair, to cry out, “You want me to die, don’t you?”
He repeated this several times as well, and I found myself lying there suppressing the urge to yell that I wouldn’t be utterly opposed to events ending in that manner.
Yes, I know, I’m a horrible person, but how well would you respond to being awoken at 7:30 in the morning by some pre-school-aged melodramatic hypochondriac screaming outside your window?
In any case, this morning was less dramatic, though no less loud. Still, it didn’t last as long, and it would have been easy for me to drift blissfully back to sleep if my cell phone hadn’t begun ringing.
The cell phone was on my dining room table, and as it had taken me a while to realize that it was even ringing at all, by the time I got to it and pressed “Talk” I was too late.
I didn’t recognize the number on the Caller ID, though, so I assumed it was a wrong number, particularly since whoever it was didn’t leave a message.
Still, in case it was something important and the person called back I brought the phone with me to the bedroom. As I was beginning to doze it rang, I answered, and, as suspected found that it was a wrong number.
But by this time I was fully awake, so I got up, cleaned my contacts, did some Web surfing, and then went for my morning walk a bit earlier than usual.
Because it was earlier, I encountered unfamiliar people, and though I have to say that most of the women (all married) were hotter than the ones I usually encounter, they were a lot less friendly, as I didn’t get a single “good morning” from any of them. It almost made me miss my “regulars.” Almost.
Speaking of hot, yet unfriendly women, as I’ve mentioned before, at my job there are certain areas to which access is restricted, many of which I have access to. In order to keep that access, though, the company requires undergoing a “revalidation” process, which basically consists of going to a 45 minute class in which a facilities person talks about how the heating, cooling, the fire suppression, and the electrical systems in the building work and, finally, which is really the only reason anyone has to take the class, the rules and regulations for accessing the restricted areas.
I’d taken the class two years ago, and, apparently, can look forward to having to take it again in two years.
In any case, mixed in with the twenty or so guys who were at the class when I took it this past Friday was one woman. And while in a sausage fest such as that any woman would stand out anyway, this one was actually really damned hot.
She also looked really damned young. And really damned bitchy. And really damned resentful about having to be in a room taking a boring-ass class while surrounded by a bunch of nerds in whose company she’d ordinarily never be caught dead.
Later, when I returned to work I mentioned the hot, young, bitchy-looking girl I’d seen in the class to Chris.
On this particular Friday we were having yet another “Beer Bash” out on the front lawn in the afternoon, which is basically just what it sounds like: a party with beer.
This one was different from most, as they were also holding volleyball and bocce ball tournaments in addition to just having music, snacks, and of course, beer.
I usually go out just to see what kind of snacks they have and to see who from the group I work in has come in on his or her day off to drink free beer provided by the company, and this time was no exception.
Chris, however, had actually gone out to participate in the volleyball tournament (the team he was on representing our group came in fifth place, which is to say they totally lost), and afterwards he said, “You think that chick you saw was hot? You should have seen the chick who was out there,” and proceeded to describe the same girl I’d told him about, though he was able to provide some more information about her than I was able to glean from merely seeing her.
It turns out that she’s an intern, which isn’t terribly surprising considering just how young she looked.
He seems to think he has some sort of “hook up” with her, as his roommate (If you can actually call Jamie that. What do you call the woman whose basement you live in?) knows the person that the girl is working for. I shrugged at this information as it was really no concern of mine. After all, the girl was far too young for an old coot like me, and it’s a safe bet that I wouldn’t be her type. Outside of movies, girls like that are never interested in guys like me.
And by “girls like that” I mean human.
I’m kidding, of course. I’m sure there are lots of great women who would be interested in me, and one day, if I just hang in there and keep my eyes open and my chin up I’m sure to find the right one.
God, when I say it that sounds even dumber and more hollow than it has coming from the other people who have been telling me that for the last decade…
Anyway, this morning after I got back from my walk I made myself a protein shake, did some more Web surfing, then said, “The hell with it,” and went back to bed until around 1:00.
I got up, did not much of anything for about an hour and a half, then watched “30 Minute Meals” and went for another walk.
It’s even hotter today that it was yesterday, so once again I was soaked with sweat by the time I got home.
I then began writing this, and, with time taken out to make another meal that required very little in the way of chewing, as my gums are still pretty tender, and to watch “The Simpsons,” ultimately made it to where you now find me.
And where is that? Wrapping up this entry, that’s where.
A Pointless Wish List (Kind Of)
Last night I downloaded a copy of Jessica Simpson’s new video for the song “These Boots Are Made for Walking,” which is featured on the soundtrack of her upcoming “Dukes of Hazard” movie.
I have just three things to say about the video: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!
Most of it is standard fare, though I will say that she looks good throughout, and, honestly, while the song is not my cup of tea (no one has ever done a better version of “Boots” than Megadeth), she sounds better than I’ve ever known her to, which, sadly, isn’t saying much.
The best part of the video comes at the end, when Jessica proceeds to give the General Lee a good washing…in a bikini.
That’s where the three things I mentioned earlier come in.
Of course, I had known that it was coming, as pictures from the video shoot were featured in several magazines (a couple of which I bought because of that fact), but actually seeing her in motion was something else entirely.
Personally, as much as the aforementioned magazines are raving about her new, leaner body, I have to say that I liked her better before she lost weight, but even so, she looks very good in that bikini, and you can rest assured that at least one picture from the video, as rendered by me, is on the way…
I’ve determined that my next major purchase is going to be an Averatec convertible Tablet PC. I came extremely close to buying one over the weekend, but ultimately didn’t, as I want to wait to see how much of a bit my new teeth are going to take out of my wallet, since having the old ones pulled used up the last of my insurance, which means that the cost of the partial plate my dentist will be making for me in a couple of weeks is going to largely be paid by me.
In any case, back to the computer, it has a very impressive feature set for the price, especially compared to other Tablet PCs, which can cost twice as much, with lower specs.
So yeah, I think this will be what I buy, whenever I get around to buying something. There are a lot of things I’d like to buy, such as an HDTV (which would then necessitate buying a new home theater system), a new desktop computer, a PDA, a new bed, and so forth, but given that I have relatively limited means in contrast to the things I want, I have to prioritize my wants and pursue them one or two at a time.
A new desktop had been the priority, but I’ve decided that there’s plenty of life in my current system and that I want to wait for the dual-core processors from Intel and AMD to mature a little, so I’m holding off on that, and now my heart is firmly set on the Tablet PC.
For now, at least.
Anyway, at least I’m focusing on things that I can actually have…
On the topic of things that I can’t have (which is more or less where we started, what with the whole Jessica Simpson in a bikini thing), I was watching a show on Food Network today called “Everyday Italian.”
The chick who hosts it is really hot (which is where the “things I can’t have” aspect), but there is something sort of…off about her. I’m not quite sure what it is. I think it’s the fact that she never seems to stop smiling.
Worse, it’s a sort of “Vanna White” smile, this vacuous spokesmodel-y smile, which just seems really out of place in the kitchen as she chops ups garlic and eggplants and whatnot.
Also, as a kind of punctuation for a point she’s making she will lunge toward the camera in a manner reminiscent of the “3D” movies aired in the “Dr. Tongue” sketches on “SCTV,” her spokesmodel smile widening a little, and a slightly crazed looked developing in her eyes.
I think she’s just trying to exude enthusiasm, but it seems a bit over the top and kind of psychotic.
Still, she’s hot, so the psychotic elements are okay.
Never Take Threshold Entries Too Serious Dept.
My mother sent me an e-mail apologizing for hurting my feelings with her comment about my uneventful life, which was very sweet of her, but unnecessary, as my feelings weren’t hurt at all.
In any case, that’s going to do it for this largely pointless entry. Maybe I’ll be a little more focused next time (but somehow I doubt it).
I have just three things to say about the video: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!
Most of it is standard fare, though I will say that she looks good throughout, and, honestly, while the song is not my cup of tea (no one has ever done a better version of “Boots” than Megadeth), she sounds better than I’ve ever known her to, which, sadly, isn’t saying much.
The best part of the video comes at the end, when Jessica proceeds to give the General Lee a good washing…in a bikini.
That’s where the three things I mentioned earlier come in.
Of course, I had known that it was coming, as pictures from the video shoot were featured in several magazines (a couple of which I bought because of that fact), but actually seeing her in motion was something else entirely.
Personally, as much as the aforementioned magazines are raving about her new, leaner body, I have to say that I liked her better before she lost weight, but even so, she looks very good in that bikini, and you can rest assured that at least one picture from the video, as rendered by me, is on the way…
I’ve determined that my next major purchase is going to be an Averatec convertible Tablet PC. I came extremely close to buying one over the weekend, but ultimately didn’t, as I want to wait to see how much of a bit my new teeth are going to take out of my wallet, since having the old ones pulled used up the last of my insurance, which means that the cost of the partial plate my dentist will be making for me in a couple of weeks is going to largely be paid by me.
In any case, back to the computer, it has a very impressive feature set for the price, especially compared to other Tablet PCs, which can cost twice as much, with lower specs.
So yeah, I think this will be what I buy, whenever I get around to buying something. There are a lot of things I’d like to buy, such as an HDTV (which would then necessitate buying a new home theater system), a new desktop computer, a PDA, a new bed, and so forth, but given that I have relatively limited means in contrast to the things I want, I have to prioritize my wants and pursue them one or two at a time.
A new desktop had been the priority, but I’ve decided that there’s plenty of life in my current system and that I want to wait for the dual-core processors from Intel and AMD to mature a little, so I’m holding off on that, and now my heart is firmly set on the Tablet PC.
For now, at least.
Anyway, at least I’m focusing on things that I can actually have…
On the topic of things that I can’t have (which is more or less where we started, what with the whole Jessica Simpson in a bikini thing), I was watching a show on Food Network today called “Everyday Italian.”
The chick who hosts it is really hot (which is where the “things I can’t have” aspect), but there is something sort of…off about her. I’m not quite sure what it is. I think it’s the fact that she never seems to stop smiling.
Worse, it’s a sort of “Vanna White” smile, this vacuous spokesmodel-y smile, which just seems really out of place in the kitchen as she chops ups garlic and eggplants and whatnot.
Also, as a kind of punctuation for a point she’s making she will lunge toward the camera in a manner reminiscent of the “3D” movies aired in the “Dr. Tongue” sketches on “SCTV,” her spokesmodel smile widening a little, and a slightly crazed looked developing in her eyes.
I think she’s just trying to exude enthusiasm, but it seems a bit over the top and kind of psychotic.
Still, she’s hot, so the psychotic elements are okay.
Never Take Threshold Entries Too Serious Dept.
My mother sent me an e-mail apologizing for hurting my feelings with her comment about my uneventful life, which was very sweet of her, but unnecessary, as my feelings weren’t hurt at all.
In any case, that’s going to do it for this largely pointless entry. Maybe I’ll be a little more focused next time (but somehow I doubt it).
Monday, June 13, 2005
I Just Can't Keep Up With Those Senior Citizens
Earlier today we saw a practical demonstration of that old adage about not sending a picture of yourself to someone with Photoshop skills and a mean streak…especially if you’re sending the picture to said person as a means of taunting him with the fact that he’s stuck at work whereas you’ve left early and are enjoying your freedom in the outside world.
Okay, so maybe there isn’t actually an adage that says that, but the wisdom contained therein can still be applied to life.
Of course, taunting the others who are at work when you aren’t is a standard practice where Brian and I work, particularly on my part, but the fact that he sent a picture could not go unchallenged.
All and all, particularly considering how quickly I cranked it out, I’m pleased with how well the picture turned out, and there seemed to be a certain amount of providence involved in its creation, given that just last week I downloaded a bunch of pictures of guys for that D&D picture.
Of course, I did do some additional searching today, as, ideally, the picture would have featured a thong-clad male dancer, legs spread wide, about to “teabag” Brian (if you don’t know what that means, I’m not going to be the one to tell you), but unfortunately I couldn’t find a suitable image.
Still, I think it all worked out.
Prior to creating a homoerotic image of one of my co-workers this morning I went for my standard four-mile walk and also talked to my mother.
It’ll be another two weeks before my dad can drive, and since my mother doesn’t drive that means that they’ve been spending a lot of time at home, without much to do. In summing things up, my mother said “I don’t have any news because I haven’t been doing anything. My life is starting to be like yours.”
As if my life, or lack thereof, were the gold standard against which all other uneventful lives are judged.
And okay, maybe it is, but I do…stuff. Sure, my life’s not terribly exciting, but look at all of the things I did today.
After getting off the phone with my mom and making the picture I called Scott (who, by the way, had suggested that we post Brian’s picture to “Hot or Not” when we got it yesterday) so that I could tell him to check out the picture, then I called Kathleen to tell her to look at the picture of her hubby on Threshold, and finally I headed out to do some grocery shopping.
When I got home I went for another four-mile walk.
So I mean, that’s a lot of stuff to do in a day, right?
…
I know, I know; my life blows. And it’s hardly as though that’s a newsflash for me, but it’s still a little depressing to think that my life is less eventful than the lives my senior citizen parents are accustomed to living…
When I went for my second walk I found myself sweating more than I probably ever have in my life outside of a sauna. I was totally drenched and dripping by the time I made it home.
Just sitting around typing this I’m doing a fair amount of sweating, as it’s just that hot and muggy here.
Despite the heat, though, I am actually going to spend some time in the kitchen. Fortunately, I got the recipe from “30 Minute Meals,” as I’ve taken to watching Food Network again recently, so I shouldn’t be in the (additional) heat too long.
In any case, I think I’ll get started on my dinner. I’m sure I’ll be back later, as, after all, I have less to do with my time than people in their 60s and 70s do…
Okay, so maybe there isn’t actually an adage that says that, but the wisdom contained therein can still be applied to life.
Of course, taunting the others who are at work when you aren’t is a standard practice where Brian and I work, particularly on my part, but the fact that he sent a picture could not go unchallenged.
All and all, particularly considering how quickly I cranked it out, I’m pleased with how well the picture turned out, and there seemed to be a certain amount of providence involved in its creation, given that just last week I downloaded a bunch of pictures of guys for that D&D picture.
Of course, I did do some additional searching today, as, ideally, the picture would have featured a thong-clad male dancer, legs spread wide, about to “teabag” Brian (if you don’t know what that means, I’m not going to be the one to tell you), but unfortunately I couldn’t find a suitable image.
Still, I think it all worked out.
Prior to creating a homoerotic image of one of my co-workers this morning I went for my standard four-mile walk and also talked to my mother.
It’ll be another two weeks before my dad can drive, and since my mother doesn’t drive that means that they’ve been spending a lot of time at home, without much to do. In summing things up, my mother said “I don’t have any news because I haven’t been doing anything. My life is starting to be like yours.”
As if my life, or lack thereof, were the gold standard against which all other uneventful lives are judged.
And okay, maybe it is, but I do…stuff. Sure, my life’s not terribly exciting, but look at all of the things I did today.
After getting off the phone with my mom and making the picture I called Scott (who, by the way, had suggested that we post Brian’s picture to “Hot or Not” when we got it yesterday) so that I could tell him to check out the picture, then I called Kathleen to tell her to look at the picture of her hubby on Threshold, and finally I headed out to do some grocery shopping.
When I got home I went for another four-mile walk.
So I mean, that’s a lot of stuff to do in a day, right?
…
I know, I know; my life blows. And it’s hardly as though that’s a newsflash for me, but it’s still a little depressing to think that my life is less eventful than the lives my senior citizen parents are accustomed to living…
When I went for my second walk I found myself sweating more than I probably ever have in my life outside of a sauna. I was totally drenched and dripping by the time I made it home.
Just sitting around typing this I’m doing a fair amount of sweating, as it’s just that hot and muggy here.
Despite the heat, though, I am actually going to spend some time in the kitchen. Fortunately, I got the recipe from “30 Minute Meals,” as I’ve taken to watching Food Network again recently, so I shouldn’t be in the (additional) heat too long.
In any case, I think I’ll get started on my dinner. I’m sure I’ll be back later, as, after all, I have less to do with my time than people in their 60s and 70s do…
Now Who's Still At Work, Bitch?
Brian left work early yesterday, but he was kind enough to use his camera phone to send us this picture to show us what a good time he was having at Chippendales.
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