I present this gem from a recent letter to the editor in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette:
“[Ron Paul] has five more delegates than rambunctious Rudy”.
Which would make 6 total delegates for Ron Paul to Rudy Giuliani's 1, and 6 total delegates against Giuliani's 2 at the time of Giuliani's withdrawal from the Republican primary.
Hee.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Musings
One : Hockey on Versus sucks. West scored on East within the first 30 seconds of the game's start because Rick DiPietro, who graciously agreed to allow Versus to wire him with a microphone, was distracted by questions and forgot that he was supposed to be tending goal.
Two: Am I the only person who thinks the Whopper Freakout commercials reveal more about how violently self-entitled some of the “victims” are as opposed to the popularity of the sandwich?
Three: The Pittsburgh Penguins will be opening the 2008/2009 season against the Ottawa Senators in Stockholm, Sweden. J and I are still debating on whether to go to Munich for Oktoberfest, which conveniently ends on October 5th, one of the two days the Penguins are playing in Stockholm. I'm trying to convince J that a couple of days in Munich and a Penguins/Ottawa game would be an excellent vacation.
Four: What is it about male nude sculptures, that every single blessed last one of them in the Carnegie Museum of Art has a fig leaf covering their genitals? There were two exceptions, but both pieces had lost their penis at some point. I asked J, as representative of men everywhere, if seeing a full set (so to speak) would make him feel inferior.
J rolled his eyes.
Two: Am I the only person who thinks the Whopper Freakout commercials reveal more about how violently self-entitled some of the “victims” are as opposed to the popularity of the sandwich?
Three: The Pittsburgh Penguins will be opening the 2008/2009 season against the Ottawa Senators in Stockholm, Sweden. J and I are still debating on whether to go to Munich for Oktoberfest, which conveniently ends on October 5th, one of the two days the Penguins are playing in Stockholm. I'm trying to convince J that a couple of days in Munich and a Penguins/Ottawa game would be an excellent vacation.
Four: What is it about male nude sculptures, that every single blessed last one of them in the Carnegie Museum of Art has a fig leaf covering their genitals? There were two exceptions, but both pieces had lost their penis at some point. I asked J, as representative of men everywhere, if seeing a full set (so to speak) would make him feel inferior.
J rolled his eyes.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
I Don't Know Why...
... I love this story, but I do.
In England, a farmer built a mock-Tudor castle, complete with turrets and a cannon. And concealed the structure with hay bales for four years to get around a zoning law which restricted the land to agricultural use.
It is the little details, such as the couple keeping their son from attending school on the day he was supposed to draw a picture of his house, for fear that he would draw a building made of hay, that capture my imagination.
How did this couple, with their young children, manage to keep a secret for so many years? How did they receive mail or packages? How did they keep friends or family members from dropping by? What address did they use to do such things are file their taxes? The logistics are astonishing.
I can't help but admire the couple for trying to do an end run around the zoning laws to build such a complicated and large structure. I mourn a little bit that they will have to tear it down.
In England, a farmer built a mock-Tudor castle, complete with turrets and a cannon. And concealed the structure with hay bales for four years to get around a zoning law which restricted the land to agricultural use.
It is the little details, such as the couple keeping their son from attending school on the day he was supposed to draw a picture of his house, for fear that he would draw a building made of hay, that capture my imagination.
How did this couple, with their young children, manage to keep a secret for so many years? How did they receive mail or packages? How did they keep friends or family members from dropping by? What address did they use to do such things are file their taxes? The logistics are astonishing.
I can't help but admire the couple for trying to do an end run around the zoning laws to build such a complicated and large structure. I mourn a little bit that they will have to tear it down.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Change of Pace
Vosges Mo Bacon Bar. Chocolate with pieces of Applewood smoked bacon.
A most interesting taste experience. My tongue loved it. The rest of me could not quite accept the combination of chocolate and bacon at the same time. Half of the candy bar is sitting in the cupboard, waiting for another trial.
A most interesting taste experience. My tongue loved it. The rest of me could not quite accept the combination of chocolate and bacon at the same time. Half of the candy bar is sitting in the cupboard, waiting for another trial.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
Health - Part I
I've had some time over the past several days to meditate on what it would be like to be genuinely poor, sick and missing even one of the resources I have available in order to obtain medical treatment. I have not experienced an epiphany during my mediations, just a re-realization of how difficult the health care system can be to navigate.
My first appointment was scheduled for 1:45 PM on a weekday afternoon. I have at least two follow-up appointments, also on weekday afternoons during working hours. In total I will be missing around 8 hours of work over a two week period, just to see my doctor.
I am not a salaried employee. I work for an hourly wage and taking time out of my required 40 hours is an inconvenience. However, I have options. I can take half a sick day or work longer on other days to make up the time. I can also elect to work fewer hours as my wage is high enough to offset the missing time in my paycheck. I will still be able to meet my bills.
My doctor works out of a clinic in a lower income neighborhood located outside the Pittsburgh city limits. She came highly recommended and makes seeing a physician a pleasant experience. She spends the first twenty minutes of every exam just talking. She is also half an hour away, no matter which form of transportation I elect to take, whether it is a bus, my car or a cab.
If I take the bus, I have to spend time studying the schedules, hope it shows up on time, hope that I don't arrive too early, hope that I don't wait too long, hope that I calculated correctly to miss the minimum amount of work. If I drive, I have to add in the cost of paying to park. If I take a cab, I have to calculate the cost of the trip. With any of these options I lose – either time or money. But it is my choice to make.
In addition to the prescriptions and the previously anticipated shoulder x-ray, my doctor order a chest x-ray, a blood draw and a TB test. More time spent, trying to get to a lab to get the blood work done, trying to find a location with decent hours to get the x-rays completed. Calculating how late I can arrive at work, how early can I leave, when can I make up those hours?
Filling prescriptions. First I am told that my doctor would have to call and authorize my allergy/asthma drug as “medically necessary”. Twenty-four hours later, via a phone call by the pharmacist, I am told that the doctor will have to file paperwork stating I have a formal diagnosis of allergies/asthma before the company will pay for the medication. Which will take at least two weeks, probably longer. If I want to start it right away I am going to need to ask my doctor for samples. Which means going across town again. For a medication that was unrestricted the last time I had the prescription filled.
What if I worked at a lower pay rate? What if my boss was not as sympathetic or flexible? What if the only option I had was the bus? What if I did not have a choice of doctor? Or labs? Or hospitals? Or pharmacy? What if I did not have enough money to pay for all those office visits? What would I do then?
My first appointment was scheduled for 1:45 PM on a weekday afternoon. I have at least two follow-up appointments, also on weekday afternoons during working hours. In total I will be missing around 8 hours of work over a two week period, just to see my doctor.
I am not a salaried employee. I work for an hourly wage and taking time out of my required 40 hours is an inconvenience. However, I have options. I can take half a sick day or work longer on other days to make up the time. I can also elect to work fewer hours as my wage is high enough to offset the missing time in my paycheck. I will still be able to meet my bills.
My doctor works out of a clinic in a lower income neighborhood located outside the Pittsburgh city limits. She came highly recommended and makes seeing a physician a pleasant experience. She spends the first twenty minutes of every exam just talking. She is also half an hour away, no matter which form of transportation I elect to take, whether it is a bus, my car or a cab.
If I take the bus, I have to spend time studying the schedules, hope it shows up on time, hope that I don't arrive too early, hope that I don't wait too long, hope that I calculated correctly to miss the minimum amount of work. If I drive, I have to add in the cost of paying to park. If I take a cab, I have to calculate the cost of the trip. With any of these options I lose – either time or money. But it is my choice to make.
In addition to the prescriptions and the previously anticipated shoulder x-ray, my doctor order a chest x-ray, a blood draw and a TB test. More time spent, trying to get to a lab to get the blood work done, trying to find a location with decent hours to get the x-rays completed. Calculating how late I can arrive at work, how early can I leave, when can I make up those hours?
Filling prescriptions. First I am told that my doctor would have to call and authorize my allergy/asthma drug as “medically necessary”. Twenty-four hours later, via a phone call by the pharmacist, I am told that the doctor will have to file paperwork stating I have a formal diagnosis of allergies/asthma before the company will pay for the medication. Which will take at least two weeks, probably longer. If I want to start it right away I am going to need to ask my doctor for samples. Which means going across town again. For a medication that was unrestricted the last time I had the prescription filled.
What if I worked at a lower pay rate? What if my boss was not as sympathetic or flexible? What if the only option I had was the bus? What if I did not have a choice of doctor? Or labs? Or hospitals? Or pharmacy? What if I did not have enough money to pay for all those office visits? What would I do then?
Monday, January 14, 2008
Dreadful Things to Come
My shoulder, the left one, the one that I did not abuse by hanging 25 pounds of textbooks off of all the way through high school and college, appears to be falling apart. It hurts when I sleep on it. It hurts to wrap a towel around me. It hurts when I swim. It hurts when I gesture.
I have an appointment with my GP on Thursday for a checkup. Partially to beg for drug renewals – Imitrex, Serevent and whatever prescription allergy medication my insurance will allow me to purchase which will not make me sleepy. Partially to have my skin checked, as I am a fair creature who burns easily and sport one scar from the removal of a melanoma on my arm. And partially to receive confirmation that my left shoulder will have to submit to the rigors of an x-ray, an MRI and a surgeon's knife in the near future.
I know I should have seen someone when it started acting up over a year ago. Over a year ago being the the fall of 2006. But I put it off. Because I knew that there would be x-rays and MRI's and a surgeon. And surgeons mean needles, needles to draw blood, needles to inject medication, needles placed temporarily under my skin into a vein to pump drugs and saline through my body.
I hate needles. Really hate needles. Hate enough that I refuse to give blood. Enough that, at the age of 16, I threw a tantrum when I was forced to return to the hospital so the tech could draw more blood to test for what turned out to be strep pneumonia. Enough that I waited a year longer than any sane person to see a doctor about my aching shoulder.
It does not help that I have come close to passing out multiple times. Or that the last time I had blood drawn my arm turned black and blue from my wrist to my elbow. Or that J has the same phobia but has managed to conquer it enough to give blood. I take comfort in the fact that he is a universal donor, so if I'm desperate he will provide.
You might think it was because I spent a fair amount of time in hospitals when I was a child. I had typical childhood ailments – removal of my tonsils, polyps removed from my adenoids (twice), tubes placed in my ears (three times). Except that I remember each of those trips and as far back as my memory can recall, I was all ready asleep when they inserted the I.V.
This time I will be awake and not sedated. Not a good combination.
I have an appointment with my GP on Thursday for a checkup. Partially to beg for drug renewals – Imitrex, Serevent and whatever prescription allergy medication my insurance will allow me to purchase which will not make me sleepy. Partially to have my skin checked, as I am a fair creature who burns easily and sport one scar from the removal of a melanoma on my arm. And partially to receive confirmation that my left shoulder will have to submit to the rigors of an x-ray, an MRI and a surgeon's knife in the near future.
I know I should have seen someone when it started acting up over a year ago. Over a year ago being the the fall of 2006. But I put it off. Because I knew that there would be x-rays and MRI's and a surgeon. And surgeons mean needles, needles to draw blood, needles to inject medication, needles placed temporarily under my skin into a vein to pump drugs and saline through my body.
I hate needles. Really hate needles. Hate enough that I refuse to give blood. Enough that, at the age of 16, I threw a tantrum when I was forced to return to the hospital so the tech could draw more blood to test for what turned out to be strep pneumonia. Enough that I waited a year longer than any sane person to see a doctor about my aching shoulder.
It does not help that I have come close to passing out multiple times. Or that the last time I had blood drawn my arm turned black and blue from my wrist to my elbow. Or that J has the same phobia but has managed to conquer it enough to give blood. I take comfort in the fact that he is a universal donor, so if I'm desperate he will provide.
You might think it was because I spent a fair amount of time in hospitals when I was a child. I had typical childhood ailments – removal of my tonsils, polyps removed from my adenoids (twice), tubes placed in my ears (three times). Except that I remember each of those trips and as far back as my memory can recall, I was all ready asleep when they inserted the I.V.
This time I will be awake and not sedated. Not a good combination.
Tell Me Again...
How good the people of Afghanistan have it now?
Because banning male tailors from measuring woman and calling for the return of public executions does not sound all that progressive.
Neither is naming a man acting police chief, but withholding the rank, authority, ammunition and money necessary to do the job properly.
As a contrast, this article and video on the return of big wedding celebrations, banned under the reign of the Taliban.
Because banning male tailors from measuring woman and calling for the return of public executions does not sound all that progressive.
Neither is naming a man acting police chief, but withholding the rank, authority, ammunition and money necessary to do the job properly.
As a contrast, this article and video on the return of big wedding celebrations, banned under the reign of the Taliban.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
A List of Things that are Going to Make my Head Explode
Any more comments bashing the current crop of Democratic presidential candidates on the following qualities:
- Gender
- Race
- Looks
- Lack of or Excessive Display of Emotions
- Age
- Type of Laugh
Friday, January 04, 2008
The NHL Winter Classic
I had a well organized, interesting post planned on our recent adventures in Toronto and Buffalo. Then I came down with the flu, courtesy of our one of our fellow travelers.
A Summary
A Summary
- The Hockey Hall of Fame – in which fans are permitted to kiss the Stanley Cup if they so desire and Bob Johnson's ring resides in the vault with the pieces of the old cup. Coolest statue was a giant bronze of this classic Ken Dryden pose.
- Dinner at Fran's Bistro – Funky, comforting home cooking. Excellent 5 cheese macaroni and cheese, adult shakes spiked with your liquor of choice and chili made with carrots.
- World's Biggest Bookstore – Huge. Located inside a fire engine red building on Edward Street. I walked out much poorer from the visit with every intention of returning again, with several hundred Canadian dollars in my pockets. Has everything plus some things I did not know I wanted and carries British publishers.
- The Steam Whistle Brewery & The Distillery – The brewery reminded me of Rolling Rock. The distillery was defunct, but the old buildings were amazing.
- The Border Crossing – In which our party demonstrates that the easiest way to distract a U.S. Custom's Agent is to mention that you are attending a major sporting event in the area, thus provoking the guard to ask “Really? How did you get tickets?” instead of the routine litany of questions.
- Wings at the Anchor Bar – A Buffalo institution and the home of the hot wing. The mild wing sauce was excellent.
- The Game – Seventy-one thousand plus screaming fans. Thirty degrees and snowing. It seemed as if sixty thousand of them were cheering for the Sabres. My first experience in hostile territory. The Capitals do not count as the Verizon Center is Mellon Arena southeast.
- The Win – In which Sidney, “...is a girl's name” Crosby manages to close the mouths and empty the stadium of sixty thousand Sabres fans by scoring the winning goal in a shootout.
- Lake Effect Snow – Seven hours from Buffalo to Pittsburgh. Six hours spent on unplowed, unsalted roads.
- The Flu – Inevitable.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
A Quick Rundown of Christmas Highlights
The presents have been unwrapped and our downstairs is a wasteland of bags, opened gifts and unread Christmas letters scattered from living room to dining room and spilling into our tiny kitchen. There is laundry to be completed, dishes to be put away and Wigford has taken up temporary residence under the Christmas tree, sending the blanket covering the metal stand in all directions.
Number of lies I had to tell: One.
That I was working between Christmas and the New Year, in an attempt to ward off the badgering about our non-involvement in the non-stop circus of family related holiday activities. My attempt was completely unsuccessful. Not because his family disbelieved the lie, they just refused to accept the idea that J and myself prefer to use our vacation time for traveling.
Number of fights: None.
The one potential argument was over Phillip Pullman and the His Dark Materials books, which was averted by repeating the following sentences until J's brother gave up.
Sentence 1: I disagree with you, but I'm (not going to/don't want to) argue about it.
Sentence 2: If you deliberately read for statements that are (anti-Catholic and or religion), that is exactly what you will find.
Sentence 3: As the church has always had its share of mysterious rituals from the view of an outsider, creating fictional organizations based on real-life structures within the church does not equate to anti-Catholicism.
Best Gift: Lost Girls by Alan Moore and Melinda Gebbe.
Purchased by J. I have all ready stored the volumes in a safe place as horrifying J's relatives, while tantalizing, is not worth the subsequent fallout.
Oddest Gift: Tickets to The Vagina Monologues.
Purchased by my father. He ended up with two sets and gave one set to my mother, one set to myself. Since we have two extra tickets, we are trying to convince my SIL and future SIL to go with us. An odd gift because I would never, in a million years, imagine my father buying tickets to this play.
Worst Gift: A black and gold “cat themed” sweater.
Purchased by my mother. While I like cats in general, adore my little tribe of three and suggested that the Crazy Cat Lady action figure would be an excellent stocking stuffer, I am not so far deranged as to think wearing a sweater embroidered with cats and sporting buttons in the shape of cat heads is an ideal fashion choice. J did not find my suggestion that I could save the sweater for Steelers games very amusing.
Best Gift I Gave: A small, handwoven Turkish rug with a fish in the center. Given to J since our house is too small for a fish tank.
Number of lies I had to tell: One.
That I was working between Christmas and the New Year, in an attempt to ward off the badgering about our non-involvement in the non-stop circus of family related holiday activities. My attempt was completely unsuccessful. Not because his family disbelieved the lie, they just refused to accept the idea that J and myself prefer to use our vacation time for traveling.
Number of fights: None.
The one potential argument was over Phillip Pullman and the His Dark Materials books, which was averted by repeating the following sentences until J's brother gave up.
Sentence 1: I disagree with you, but I'm (not going to/don't want to) argue about it.
Sentence 2: If you deliberately read for statements that are (anti-Catholic and or religion), that is exactly what you will find.
Sentence 3: As the church has always had its share of mysterious rituals from the view of an outsider, creating fictional organizations based on real-life structures within the church does not equate to anti-Catholicism.
Best Gift: Lost Girls by Alan Moore and Melinda Gebbe.
Purchased by J. I have all ready stored the volumes in a safe place as horrifying J's relatives, while tantalizing, is not worth the subsequent fallout.
Oddest Gift: Tickets to The Vagina Monologues.
Purchased by my father. He ended up with two sets and gave one set to my mother, one set to myself. Since we have two extra tickets, we are trying to convince my SIL and future SIL to go with us. An odd gift because I would never, in a million years, imagine my father buying tickets to this play.
Worst Gift: A black and gold “cat themed” sweater.
Purchased by my mother. While I like cats in general, adore my little tribe of three and suggested that the Crazy Cat Lady action figure would be an excellent stocking stuffer, I am not so far deranged as to think wearing a sweater embroidered with cats and sporting buttons in the shape of cat heads is an ideal fashion choice. J did not find my suggestion that I could save the sweater for Steelers games very amusing.
Best Gift I Gave: A small, handwoven Turkish rug with a fish in the center. Given to J since our house is too small for a fish tank.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Merry Christmas
Saturday, December 22, 2007
I Can't Believe I'm Compelled to Defend...
A member of the Spears' family, but here it goes.
Susan Estrich, could you please refrain from calling Jamie Lynn Spears, or any other girl or woman who finds herself pregnant in less than ideal circumstances, a slut? Using phrases such as "successful slutdom" in your column is calling her a slut.
And while making a profit off of her pregnancy by selling the photographs of the newborn is reprehensible, it is not without precedence for celebrities to make such arrangements to document milestone events and making such an arrangement is not additional evidence that Spears is a tramp.
You know what happens when you put most sixteen year olds of any gender on a pedestal and hold them up as an example for younger kids to follow? They fall off.
Susan Estrich, could you please refrain from calling Jamie Lynn Spears, or any other girl or woman who finds herself pregnant in less than ideal circumstances, a slut? Using phrases such as "successful slutdom" in your column is calling her a slut.
And while making a profit off of her pregnancy by selling the photographs of the newborn is reprehensible, it is not without precedence for celebrities to make such arrangements to document milestone events and making such an arrangement is not additional evidence that Spears is a tramp.
You know what happens when you put most sixteen year olds of any gender on a pedestal and hold them up as an example for younger kids to follow? They fall off.
If the Glove Fits
First, an administrative note:
Dear J,
If you are reading this entry, please do the following: Disable your wireless card OR unplug the CAT 5 cable from the router AND turn off one of your computers (work or personal is up to you). Alternately you could allow more IP's on our little home network, thus allowing you to have as many computers turned on and plugged and as you want and me to be online at the same time without using up all the IP addresses.
Love, Me.
A few weeks ago the Post Gazette ran an article about Jennifer Gooch, a MFA student who designed a website to reunite gloves with their lost mates. As part of a larger project, Gooch has placed collection boxes in some of the local business and intends to turn the gloves into an exhibit.
Today the Post Gazette ran a letter from an individual who, to use the vernacular of blogs and messages boards all over the universe, could only be “concern trolling” and apparently lacks a sense of whimsy. The writer finds the project “gross”, a potential “serious health hazard” because the “streets are full of germs” and “you don't know where the glove was found and who handled it”. She wants to know why Gooch does not use her creativity “for something more productive”.
A few months ago I was in the upstairs changing rooms at Filene's Basement, trying on some summer dresses. At the time the rooms were frequently left unmonitored when the store was quiet. So it was not a surprise to hear a couple take the room next to my own and begin having not-quite-quiet-enough sex. They were discovered and asked to leave the room. Which they did, placing the clothes they grabbed as a cover neatly on the rack before leaving the room.
Just something to consider...
Dear J,
If you are reading this entry, please do the following: Disable your wireless card OR unplug the CAT 5 cable from the router AND turn off one of your computers (work or personal is up to you). Alternately you could allow more IP's on our little home network, thus allowing you to have as many computers turned on and plugged and as you want and me to be online at the same time without using up all the IP addresses.
Love, Me.
A few weeks ago the Post Gazette ran an article about Jennifer Gooch, a MFA student who designed a website to reunite gloves with their lost mates. As part of a larger project, Gooch has placed collection boxes in some of the local business and intends to turn the gloves into an exhibit.
Today the Post Gazette ran a letter from an individual who, to use the vernacular of blogs and messages boards all over the universe, could only be “concern trolling” and apparently lacks a sense of whimsy. The writer finds the project “gross”, a potential “serious health hazard” because the “streets are full of germs” and “you don't know where the glove was found and who handled it”. She wants to know why Gooch does not use her creativity “for something more productive”.
A few months ago I was in the upstairs changing rooms at Filene's Basement, trying on some summer dresses. At the time the rooms were frequently left unmonitored when the store was quiet. So it was not a surprise to hear a couple take the room next to my own and begin having not-quite-quiet-enough sex. They were discovered and asked to leave the room. Which they did, placing the clothes they grabbed as a cover neatly on the rack before leaving the room.
Just something to consider...
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Tis the Season - A Rant
It is is less than week before Christmas and I find myself restless, irritable and cranky and feeling all that is not merry. The annual Christmas funk hit at 11:20 Monday morning, while double checking prices for some of the items on J's wish list and realizing that:
From there my mind cast forward to Christmas day, the long drive to my parents, the false cheer of my mother as she tries to pretend my brother's re-deployment is not a big deal. I wondered if she would try to convince my brother to move his wedding date back even later in the spring of 2009, just in case his tour is extended. I wondered how late dinner would be served and whether my father, younger brother and SIL would be able to make it.
Cheery thoughts in mind, I wandered through some of the downtown stores Monday afternoon, trying to find less expensive substitutes for the items on J's list. During my ramble I decided to stop and purchase some funky socks, as my collection of trouser socks is shrinking due to most of them developing holes.
An FYI for anyone out there looking for funky trouser socks. There are no funky trouser socks to be found in Pittsburgh. I know, because I went looking for them on Tuesday evening also. Plenty of blue, brown and beige, but no bright colors or fun patterns. Even the fishnet socks were boring in shades of black and beige.
I see repeated playings of A Very Special David Sedaris Christmas, especially “Seasons Greetings to Our Friends and Family!” between now and December 26th.
- I did not have $248.00 to waste on a cashmere scarf and
- Even if I had $248.00 to burn it would not be on a cashmere scarf and
- Even if I was the type of person to waste $240.00 on a cashmere scarf, it is not as if we are going to be home long enough to open, much less enjoy the gifts we purchased for each other until late Tuesday evening.
From there my mind cast forward to Christmas day, the long drive to my parents, the false cheer of my mother as she tries to pretend my brother's re-deployment is not a big deal. I wondered if she would try to convince my brother to move his wedding date back even later in the spring of 2009, just in case his tour is extended. I wondered how late dinner would be served and whether my father, younger brother and SIL would be able to make it.
Cheery thoughts in mind, I wandered through some of the downtown stores Monday afternoon, trying to find less expensive substitutes for the items on J's list. During my ramble I decided to stop and purchase some funky socks, as my collection of trouser socks is shrinking due to most of them developing holes.
An FYI for anyone out there looking for funky trouser socks. There are no funky trouser socks to be found in Pittsburgh. I know, because I went looking for them on Tuesday evening also. Plenty of blue, brown and beige, but no bright colors or fun patterns. Even the fishnet socks were boring in shades of black and beige.
I see repeated playings of A Very Special David Sedaris Christmas, especially “Seasons Greetings to Our Friends and Family!” between now and December 26th.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Random(ness) Again
Topic I: Shopping
J and I wisely elected to put last weekend aside to purchase the requisite gifts for our respective families. We started slowly on Saturday morning with breakfast at Pamela's in Squirrel Hill. Pamela's is one of the few diners in Pittsburgh in which one can order scrambled eggs with cheese directly from the menu instead of making a special request. The eggs are served with your choice of toast and the most glorious home fries known to mankind. The last time I had cheesy eggs this good was 1995.
After cheesy eggs, we took a detour into Little's so I could come out a few dollars poorer with a pair of scarlet “Encore Chill Stitch” Merrell shoes to keep my toes warm this winter.
Next was a stop at Orr's Jewelers, home of the marketing campaign “Orr's Jewelers Rocks!” with photographs of such Pittsburgh celebrities as Georges Laraque and Hines Ward. We stumbled into their annual “Trunk Show” and were fawned over (to some degree) by representatives from some of the different jewelers. I tried on a $32,000 bracelet and J got a chance to sport a $23,000 Breguet watch.
After admiring jewelery and timepieces that only a lottery would be able to provide us with, we headed out to purchase gifts for the rest of the family. By mid-afternoon Sunday the last of the gifts had been purchased. By Tuesday evening they had been wrapped and bagged for the trips to our respective families.
Topic II: Stockings
The Pittsburgh Penguins are raising money for charity by auctioning off a set of Christmas stockings created by the players wives/girlfriends/mothers/mother figures. Each stocking is stuffed with items that reflect the player's interests.
Curious, I pulled up the photographs of the stockings. The interests reflected are not surprising, lots of golf balls, DVD's and iTunes gift cards. Several decided to pack the stocking full of autographed Penguins memorabilia. Others wrapped all the items to give the winner a nice surprise.
One of the most intriguing items comes from Sergei Gonchar's stocking. Gonchar's wife elected to pack his (and Malkin's) socks full of autographed items, including an autographed childhood photograph of Gonchar, dressed to play a game.
I want that stocking. I don't care about the hat, the jersey or the hockey card. I want that photograph.
Topic III: The Mitchell Report
The Post-Gazette has downplayed the citation of multiple former Pirates as users of steroids, stating that most of the players were not using during their tenures with the team. I did not read the report in detail but I did skim through, curious to see which players would be named in the document. As one Craigslist poster remarked, it was a bit of a relief to discover that the team was naturally bad. It would have stung to discover that the owners could not even put together a decent, chemically enhanced team.
J and I wisely elected to put last weekend aside to purchase the requisite gifts for our respective families. We started slowly on Saturday morning with breakfast at Pamela's in Squirrel Hill. Pamela's is one of the few diners in Pittsburgh in which one can order scrambled eggs with cheese directly from the menu instead of making a special request. The eggs are served with your choice of toast and the most glorious home fries known to mankind. The last time I had cheesy eggs this good was 1995.
After cheesy eggs, we took a detour into Little's so I could come out a few dollars poorer with a pair of scarlet “Encore Chill Stitch” Merrell shoes to keep my toes warm this winter.
Next was a stop at Orr's Jewelers, home of the marketing campaign “Orr's Jewelers Rocks!” with photographs of such Pittsburgh celebrities as Georges Laraque and Hines Ward. We stumbled into their annual “Trunk Show” and were fawned over (to some degree) by representatives from some of the different jewelers. I tried on a $32,000 bracelet and J got a chance to sport a $23,000 Breguet watch.
After admiring jewelery and timepieces that only a lottery would be able to provide us with, we headed out to purchase gifts for the rest of the family. By mid-afternoon Sunday the last of the gifts had been purchased. By Tuesday evening they had been wrapped and bagged for the trips to our respective families.
Topic II: Stockings
The Pittsburgh Penguins are raising money for charity by auctioning off a set of Christmas stockings created by the players wives/girlfriends/mothers/mother figures. Each stocking is stuffed with items that reflect the player's interests.
Curious, I pulled up the photographs of the stockings. The interests reflected are not surprising, lots of golf balls, DVD's and iTunes gift cards. Several decided to pack the stocking full of autographed Penguins memorabilia. Others wrapped all the items to give the winner a nice surprise.
One of the most intriguing items comes from Sergei Gonchar's stocking. Gonchar's wife elected to pack his (and Malkin's) socks full of autographed items, including an autographed childhood photograph of Gonchar, dressed to play a game.
I want that stocking. I don't care about the hat, the jersey or the hockey card. I want that photograph.
Topic III: The Mitchell Report
The Post-Gazette has downplayed the citation of multiple former Pirates as users of steroids, stating that most of the players were not using during their tenures with the team. I did not read the report in detail but I did skim through, curious to see which players would be named in the document. As one Craigslist poster remarked, it was a bit of a relief to discover that the team was naturally bad. It would have stung to discover that the owners could not even put together a decent, chemically enhanced team.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
My Lunch with the In-Laws
This past Saturday I got myself semi-dolled up (jeans and a nice sweater) and drove to a distant Pittsburgh suburb to have lunch with the MIL, SIL's and various members of the MIL's extended family. It is called the “Cousin's Lunch” and it is a women-only gathering held four times a year.
I don't go very often, as I feel like a visitor in a foreign country, one that can never quite get the customs right and lapses into silence and pointing less she inadvertently offend her kind hosts. My latest journey was no exception, as the primary topics of discussion were priests, mass schedules and church youth groups, with a brief foray in the hazard of hosting an outdoor birthday party for a teenager.
Late Sunday afternoon, J commented on how it had not felt like much of a weekend, as he spent all day Saturday hanging drywall with a friend. He reluctantly retracted that statement when I pointed out to him that he probably had a better time hanging drywall then I did at lunch.
I don't go very often, as I feel like a visitor in a foreign country, one that can never quite get the customs right and lapses into silence and pointing less she inadvertently offend her kind hosts. My latest journey was no exception, as the primary topics of discussion were priests, mass schedules and church youth groups, with a brief foray in the hazard of hosting an outdoor birthday party for a teenager.
Late Sunday afternoon, J commented on how it had not felt like much of a weekend, as he spent all day Saturday hanging drywall with a friend. He reluctantly retracted that statement when I pointed out to him that he probably had a better time hanging drywall then I did at lunch.
From Zero To Asshole in 2.3 Seconds
My friend T messaged me this afternoon while I was in a staff meeting. T is currently living and working in Europe and I am living vicariously through her as she emails and messages me updates on her adventures. She has been there for almost 18 months and I anticipate seeing her late next spring.
T was upset and after telling me what had happened to her today it was all I could do to stop myself from taking the next flight out and indulging in a serious ass-kicking upon the instigator of her distress, her husband.
I do not have many friends. I am very reserved around people I do not know and have a tendency to come across as distant and standoffish, which does not endear me to many people. However, I am very protective of my family and those friends who are able get past my initial reserve.
T is married and has been the primary source of income for almost three years. She is very loyal and supportive of her husband, who dropped out of his graduate program when he realized how unhappy he was there and has floundered ever since in every attempt to find his way. She tries very hard to make him happy, giving up a good job in country #1, where he was miserable, to move to country #2, where employment is difficult to obtain if you are not a EU citizen.
And he has repaid her devotion by accusing her of being a freeloader, of lacking ambition, of not working as hard as he does. And he said this on the first day of her new job.
W.T.F?
There is more, but that essentially is the heart of the conversation right there. And I am worried. Because there is more. She is thousands of miles away from her family and friends. If something should happen, and I am very afraid based on this most recent exchange something might happen, it will be difficult to get to her to help her out.
So I am in a bit of a dither right now. There are actions I feel she should take to protect herself, but how do I suggest them without being offensive or unsupportive? The best I could do for right now was suggest she see a therapist with or without the husband and promise to have some crazy in-law stories the next time we talked.
T was upset and after telling me what had happened to her today it was all I could do to stop myself from taking the next flight out and indulging in a serious ass-kicking upon the instigator of her distress, her husband.
I do not have many friends. I am very reserved around people I do not know and have a tendency to come across as distant and standoffish, which does not endear me to many people. However, I am very protective of my family and those friends who are able get past my initial reserve.
T is married and has been the primary source of income for almost three years. She is very loyal and supportive of her husband, who dropped out of his graduate program when he realized how unhappy he was there and has floundered ever since in every attempt to find his way. She tries very hard to make him happy, giving up a good job in country #1, where he was miserable, to move to country #2, where employment is difficult to obtain if you are not a EU citizen.
And he has repaid her devotion by accusing her of being a freeloader, of lacking ambition, of not working as hard as he does. And he said this on the first day of her new job.
W.T.F?
There is more, but that essentially is the heart of the conversation right there. And I am worried. Because there is more. She is thousands of miles away from her family and friends. If something should happen, and I am very afraid based on this most recent exchange something might happen, it will be difficult to get to her to help her out.
So I am in a bit of a dither right now. There are actions I feel she should take to protect herself, but how do I suggest them without being offensive or unsupportive? The best I could do for right now was suggest she see a therapist with or without the husband and promise to have some crazy in-law stories the next time we talked.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Purple Room
Things I wondered about over the course of today:
Why did the woman in the long black coat and even longer pink plaid scarf refuse to move towards the back of the bus? Or even move her body out of the way enough so that some of the riders jammed three deep ACROSS at the front of the bus could get back to stand where there was more space? And why did she choose to take up that same amount of space near the front door as people were trying to get OFF the bus?
Why did two of my co-workers decide to shut down all three servers I was using for testing without asking me first if I was finished? For the record, no I was not.
Why did the two woman sitting behind me on the bus on the way home have such a fascination with Britney Spears and the rumor that she is pregnant again? I'm not sure what I found more offensive – that they were so interested in the life of someone they would not recognize if they walked into her or that they were so ******* judgmental about it.
Why is my current favorite song Thomas Dolby's I Love You Goodbye?
Random questions aside, it was announced today that my office would be closed from December 24 through January 1. The other labs will be closed as well, giving all employees seven days in which to enjoy the holiday season.
Some, including my manager, are annoyed as the scheduling of the company holiday was not done according to policy, which requires a week's notification in advance for each day off. Although the policy applies primarily to employees who request vacation time, there is an unwritten expectation that employees are extended the same courtesy. While the holiday is welcome news, several employees scheduled vacation for later in the month of January and others do not have enough time accrued to cover four of the seven days (the remaining three are previously scheduled holidays). Employees who do not have enough time can either take the holiday unpaid or go into the hole and stop accruing vacation time until the debt is paid off.
I have the time available, although it makes planning my trips in late May and late September trickier then originally anticipated. But I can not complain, as this break means I have taken close to five weeks of vacation in the calendar year.
My only concern now is keeping this information away from J's family so they don't schedule my time.
As for the purple room, J painted our living room walls deep purple.
When I hooked the camera up to download the photographs of the living room wall, I discovered this:
Why did the woman in the long black coat and even longer pink plaid scarf refuse to move towards the back of the bus? Or even move her body out of the way enough so that some of the riders jammed three deep ACROSS at the front of the bus could get back to stand where there was more space? And why did she choose to take up that same amount of space near the front door as people were trying to get OFF the bus?
Why did two of my co-workers decide to shut down all three servers I was using for testing without asking me first if I was finished? For the record, no I was not.
Why did the two woman sitting behind me on the bus on the way home have such a fascination with Britney Spears and the rumor that she is pregnant again? I'm not sure what I found more offensive – that they were so interested in the life of someone they would not recognize if they walked into her or that they were so ******* judgmental about it.
Why is my current favorite song Thomas Dolby's I Love You Goodbye?
Random questions aside, it was announced today that my office would be closed from December 24 through January 1. The other labs will be closed as well, giving all employees seven days in which to enjoy the holiday season.
Some, including my manager, are annoyed as the scheduling of the company holiday was not done according to policy, which requires a week's notification in advance for each day off. Although the policy applies primarily to employees who request vacation time, there is an unwritten expectation that employees are extended the same courtesy. While the holiday is welcome news, several employees scheduled vacation for later in the month of January and others do not have enough time accrued to cover four of the seven days (the remaining three are previously scheduled holidays). Employees who do not have enough time can either take the holiday unpaid or go into the hole and stop accruing vacation time until the debt is paid off.
I have the time available, although it makes planning my trips in late May and late September trickier then originally anticipated. But I can not complain, as this break means I have taken close to five weeks of vacation in the calendar year.
My only concern now is keeping this information away from J's family so they don't schedule my time.
As for the purple room, J painted our living room walls deep purple.
When I hooked the camera up to download the photographs of the living room wall, I discovered this:
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