Updated
J pointed out to me when I read the quote to him the the writer was putting a positive spin on a bad situation. He is correct and I was mean spirited to say the remarks were stupid. So I'm editing out "stupid" and replacing it with "strange".
I think this may be my new, favorite, strange quote:
"For the last 6 months, I prayed that God would cause my family (brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, parents, etc) to come to know Jesus in a personal way (some to return to Him and some who have never known Him), so they wouldn't be left behind when the Rapture occurs. I've been praying this consistantly, quoting scripture, in my prayers, and believing that Jesus would hear and answer me.
Well my prayers were heard, and answered.
Last week I was diagnosed with an illness (prefer not to go into details) and now my family are all climbing over one another to get into church and pray for me."
For more go to Fundies Say the Darndest Things!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Let the Remodeling Begin
Darling husband has decided to start on remodeling the only bathroom in the house by removing the wall tile. The tile is an ugly white with weird blue accent colors. The floor is tiled the same shade as the wall. The bathroom sink is a different shade of blue. In an attempt to make the small space more cheerful the former owner put flower decals on the wall. It didn't work.
I don't think any work was done on the bathroom, ever, aside from replacing the sink and toilet. The bathtub is cast-iron. Alas, it is not the cool claw foot cast-iron tub that I had in my apartment in Greensboro. It is an ugly, shallow thing that is set an inch around into the wall and floor. Removing the tub is going to be a nightmare, but it needs to be done, because I like to bathe when I run a tub. (Our first home had a large, deep, jacuzzi. Our first home also had bad pipes, so it took an hour to fill and the water ended up cold. But I digress...)
It is regrettable that removing tile makes so much noise. I set a time limit on the pounding so J can only do it until 10pm. This gives me to brush my teeth and wash my face, but two to three hours a night in our little house is a little much. The cats split the time between hiding underneath furniture and napping next to me on the couch.
I don't think any work was done on the bathroom, ever, aside from replacing the sink and toilet. The bathtub is cast-iron. Alas, it is not the cool claw foot cast-iron tub that I had in my apartment in Greensboro. It is an ugly, shallow thing that is set an inch around into the wall and floor. Removing the tub is going to be a nightmare, but it needs to be done, because I like to bathe when I run a tub. (Our first home had a large, deep, jacuzzi. Our first home also had bad pipes, so it took an hour to fill and the water ended up cold. But I digress...)
It is regrettable that removing tile makes so much noise. I set a time limit on the pounding so J can only do it until 10pm. This gives me to brush my teeth and wash my face, but two to three hours a night in our little house is a little much. The cats split the time between hiding underneath furniture and napping next to me on the couch.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Iraqi War Veteran
I sat next to a Marine on the bus yesterday. I was on the way to Oakland to meet a friend for lunch and shopping. He was on the way to the Veteran's Hospital to pick up his file for a weekend session of training.
He was a handsome man. Beautiful blue eyes, rugged face, friendly. He was injured last fall when his vehicle hit a land mine. He says he does not know how the front wheel of the vehicle managed to miss the mine. Perhaps it swerved just enough out of the way, perhaps it was a time-delay. The man sitting next to him died when the mine exploded. He survived with massive damage to one of his legs and months of physical therapy.
What do you say to a man who has been through that? How do you comfort them? How does one, as myself, who was against the invasion of Iraq and the current war, say the right thing?
In this man's civilian life, he is a landscaper. I took his name and phone number and will try to convince J to save up some money and give him some work. It is the least we can do.
He was a handsome man. Beautiful blue eyes, rugged face, friendly. He was injured last fall when his vehicle hit a land mine. He says he does not know how the front wheel of the vehicle managed to miss the mine. Perhaps it swerved just enough out of the way, perhaps it was a time-delay. The man sitting next to him died when the mine exploded. He survived with massive damage to one of his legs and months of physical therapy.
What do you say to a man who has been through that? How do you comfort them? How does one, as myself, who was against the invasion of Iraq and the current war, say the right thing?
In this man's civilian life, he is a landscaper. I took his name and phone number and will try to convince J to save up some money and give him some work. It is the least we can do.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Sick and Other Meditations
Item 1: Quote of the year: “I have an attention span as long as the largest word The Shrub can pronounce correctly”. Check out a clear view to a new life for the rest of the entry.
Item 2: I caught cold 519 and it has been getting progressively worse throughout the week. Tomorrow is a company holiday, so I get the day off. It is an extra day to sleep, but I have to get up on time to haul myself down to Oakland to meet a friend, check out some museums, blow through Kaufman's before it becomes Macy's and take in a Penguin game.
Item 3: Brighton Beach Memoirs rules. I finally got an opportunity to see it tonight, with tea and all three cats. I wish we had a copy of Biloxi Blues. Chicago is ok, but not an adequate substitute.
Item 4: The BigRedKitty is also known as Wigford. We don't know how he got his name. We narrowed it down to a Stonehenge-type circle in England or a rugby player.
Item 5: Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs are evil. And yummy.
Item 6: Someone gave up his seat on the bus to me yesterday.
Eons ago, my best friend and I had a long conversation on the demographics and behaviors of bus riders.
From our completely biased and anecdotal evidence, we determined that the type least willing to give up a seat were men in suits, expensive shoes and briefcases. The type most willing were women with small children.
My least favorite demographic are those who think the bus is their private hired vehicle. These are the people who sit in the middle of two seats and surround themselves with their purse, miscellaneous bag-o-stuff and lunch (the women) or simply spread their body wide over the seats (the men), thereby avoiding the possibility of having to sit next to anybody. I've given up trying to shame them freeing up space. It is not worth it anymore.
Item 7: I wish I had some clever story to tell tonight. Instead I'll just post a Paris photograph. This is Les Halles Carousel. Little did J and I know at the time that you should NOT be in this area at night.
Item 2: I caught cold 519 and it has been getting progressively worse throughout the week. Tomorrow is a company holiday, so I get the day off. It is an extra day to sleep, but I have to get up on time to haul myself down to Oakland to meet a friend, check out some museums, blow through Kaufman's before it becomes Macy's and take in a Penguin game.
Item 3: Brighton Beach Memoirs rules. I finally got an opportunity to see it tonight, with tea and all three cats. I wish we had a copy of Biloxi Blues. Chicago is ok, but not an adequate substitute.
Item 4: The BigRedKitty is also known as Wigford. We don't know how he got his name. We narrowed it down to a Stonehenge-type circle in England or a rugby player.
Item 5: Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs are evil. And yummy.
Item 6: Someone gave up his seat on the bus to me yesterday.
Eons ago, my best friend and I had a long conversation on the demographics and behaviors of bus riders.
From our completely biased and anecdotal evidence, we determined that the type least willing to give up a seat were men in suits, expensive shoes and briefcases. The type most willing were women with small children.
My least favorite demographic are those who think the bus is their private hired vehicle. These are the people who sit in the middle of two seats and surround themselves with their purse, miscellaneous bag-o-stuff and lunch (the women) or simply spread their body wide over the seats (the men), thereby avoiding the possibility of having to sit next to anybody. I've given up trying to shame them freeing up space. It is not worth it anymore.
Item 7: I wish I had some clever story to tell tonight. Instead I'll just post a Paris photograph. This is Les Halles Carousel. Little did J and I know at the time that you should NOT be in this area at night.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Wild Night
“Crazy” is the only way to describe Sunday's Penguins/Leafs game. Because Leafs tickets are expensive (CA $24.00 - $385.00 / USD $20.61 - $330.88) and difficult to come by (they have a high number of season ticket holders) Pittsburgh is invaded by happy Canadian hockey fans, who buy the arena's cheap seats and get to see their beloved team play twice a year. Every year I try to see at least one of the games, because of the high energy in the crowd and the intense level of play.
We had a couple of Leafs fans sitting two rows down from us, so we were able to exchange some good-natured insults and listen to them make fun of American beer. I find it interesting that visitors to the arena are always surprised by the quality of the beer. One of them asked how much a season was. He was shocked when I told him that it cost roughly $2,000 for a pair of seats for a full season (41 games). He has full season lacrosse tickets. A set of four for eight games set him back $1,600.
Sunday was a little bit different. Midway through the 2nd period, the power went out. Totally and utterly. It was so dark in the arena I could not see my hand in front of my face. After wasting 18 minutes for the lights to warm up, play resumed. For four minutes, when the power went out again.
People were civilized. Some fans left. Most went for another beer run, stretched their legs and waited. Finally play resumed, with a 28 minute third period.
New arena anybody? Because that is what fans were chanting when the lights went out.
We had a couple of Leafs fans sitting two rows down from us, so we were able to exchange some good-natured insults and listen to them make fun of American beer. I find it interesting that visitors to the arena are always surprised by the quality of the beer. One of them asked how much a season was. He was shocked when I told him that it cost roughly $2,000 for a pair of seats for a full season (41 games). He has full season lacrosse tickets. A set of four for eight games set him back $1,600.
Sunday was a little bit different. Midway through the 2nd period, the power went out. Totally and utterly. It was so dark in the arena I could not see my hand in front of my face. After wasting 18 minutes for the lights to warm up, play resumed. For four minutes, when the power went out again.
People were civilized. Some fans left. Most went for another beer run, stretched their legs and waited. Finally play resumed, with a 28 minute third period.
New arena anybody? Because that is what fans were chanting when the lights went out.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Blips on the Radar
I've started a novel project that should take me through the end of the year, possibly longer. Right now I'm in that stage called “research” since I want to make sure that my character is as authentic as possible.
Part of my research has been contacting athletes I knew in college to see if they are willing to talk to me about their sport. There is no experience so humbling as having someone NOT have any clue who you are. I always wondered how much of an impression I made on people. Now I know, not much of one for most.
Two of the three have agreed to talk to me. The third is reluctant, and rightfully so. He is still very much involved in the sport he played, and shows some concern that I want to use him for access. I would not dream of imposing on him in such a manner. As much as I would love to sit down and have a conversation with a couple of pro athletes, I don't have the journalistic credibility to make that happen, and I certainly am under no illusion that some guy I have not spoken to in 11 years is going to help me out.
That being said, I am very excited about this project. Until November first I will research, dream and plan. On November first I will join others for National Novel Writing Month and actually commit the thing to paper.
Beats television.
Part of my research has been contacting athletes I knew in college to see if they are willing to talk to me about their sport. There is no experience so humbling as having someone NOT have any clue who you are. I always wondered how much of an impression I made on people. Now I know, not much of one for most.
Two of the three have agreed to talk to me. The third is reluctant, and rightfully so. He is still very much involved in the sport he played, and shows some concern that I want to use him for access. I would not dream of imposing on him in such a manner. As much as I would love to sit down and have a conversation with a couple of pro athletes, I don't have the journalistic credibility to make that happen, and I certainly am under no illusion that some guy I have not spoken to in 11 years is going to help me out.
That being said, I am very excited about this project. Until November first I will research, dream and plan. On November first I will join others for National Novel Writing Month and actually commit the thing to paper.
Beats television.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Weekend Getaway
Tired of the weird winter weather and life in general, J and I packed ourselves into the Volvo on Saturday morning and headed towards Niagara Fall Ont, Canada.
J and I used to travel on weekends often when we lived in our respective cities in North Carolina. He would call me on a Thursday night and say “Feel like hitting the road kiddo?” Friday afternoon would find me in my car headed for Charlotte. From there we would normally head towards the Carolina coast for some beach fun. We somehow always managed to squeeze something vaguely educational from those trips, from visiting Kitty Hawk to climbing the Cape Hatteras lighthouse.
Since we moved back North, we have not traveled as much. There seems to be greater demands on our time and a greater demand that we check in with J's family before going anywhere. So slipping out of the country for 36 hours was a real treat for the two of us.
The Falls are partly frozen this time of year, with enormous chunks of ice and snow mixing with the falling water and huge ice floes in the river below. The air was warm but the wind coming off the water was cold, cold, cold.
After viewing the Falls, we walked through the town, had a late dinner and briefly hit Fallsview Casino. We stopped by Casino Niagara this morning before heading home. A pit stop in Erie for Mighty Fine Donuts and we arrived home to three messages from his family on our answering machine. Apparently they were upset that we did not return the first two.
We also got an introduction to Don Cherry via Hockey Night in Canada. He was dressed like a deranged leprechaun, in a high collar shirt, kelly green tie and green and blue checked suit. The tie did not match the suit.
Penguins fans don't like Don Cherry.
J and I used to travel on weekends often when we lived in our respective cities in North Carolina. He would call me on a Thursday night and say “Feel like hitting the road kiddo?” Friday afternoon would find me in my car headed for Charlotte. From there we would normally head towards the Carolina coast for some beach fun. We somehow always managed to squeeze something vaguely educational from those trips, from visiting Kitty Hawk to climbing the Cape Hatteras lighthouse.
Since we moved back North, we have not traveled as much. There seems to be greater demands on our time and a greater demand that we check in with J's family before going anywhere. So slipping out of the country for 36 hours was a real treat for the two of us.
The Falls are partly frozen this time of year, with enormous chunks of ice and snow mixing with the falling water and huge ice floes in the river below. The air was warm but the wind coming off the water was cold, cold, cold.
After viewing the Falls, we walked through the town, had a late dinner and briefly hit Fallsview Casino. We stopped by Casino Niagara this morning before heading home. A pit stop in Erie for Mighty Fine Donuts and we arrived home to three messages from his family on our answering machine. Apparently they were upset that we did not return the first two.
We also got an introduction to Don Cherry via Hockey Night in Canada. He was dressed like a deranged leprechaun, in a high collar shirt, kelly green tie and green and blue checked suit. The tie did not match the suit.
Penguins fans don't like Don Cherry.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Can I Get Your Digits?
Said one of the skateboard rats to me as I walked home from my bus stop late this afternoon.
There is a little group of teenage boys who hang out on my street on sunny days. It does not have to be warm, just sunny. I have passed them many times on my walks home. This is the first time they have deigned to speak to me.
Is it my new haircut that drew their attention? The fact that I was thinking aloud, so my mouth moved a little bit and my thoughts were easily read by my facial expressions? The only thing I knew for sure was that three white boy skate rats pretending they grew up in the ghetto instead of a middle class almost suburban neighborhood.
“Hey” said one of the boys.
“Hello” I replied, and continued walking.
“Yo, can I get your digits” said the second.
“I'll take you to McDonald's” said the third.
I swung around and looked at the three of them. “McDonald's? My God, you are a cheap date” I exclaimed, and continued walking.
“Well, that's the point” one of them replied.
I could not help myself, I started to snicker. Snickering turned to giggling, giggling to open laughter. I was near tears when I walked through my front door.
Darling husband was equally entertained with my encounter.
There is a little group of teenage boys who hang out on my street on sunny days. It does not have to be warm, just sunny. I have passed them many times on my walks home. This is the first time they have deigned to speak to me.
Is it my new haircut that drew their attention? The fact that I was thinking aloud, so my mouth moved a little bit and my thoughts were easily read by my facial expressions? The only thing I knew for sure was that three white boy skate rats pretending they grew up in the ghetto instead of a middle class almost suburban neighborhood.
“Hey” said one of the boys.
“Hello” I replied, and continued walking.
“Yo, can I get your digits” said the second.
“I'll take you to McDonald's” said the third.
I swung around and looked at the three of them. “McDonald's? My God, you are a cheap date” I exclaimed, and continued walking.
“Well, that's the point” one of them replied.
I could not help myself, I started to snicker. Snickering turned to giggling, giggling to open laughter. I was near tears when I walked through my front door.
Darling husband was equally entertained with my encounter.
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