Friday, April 28, 2006
I went to the Maritime Museum today, and painted the end wall at the top of the stairs. I like painting walls.
The stepladder was scary. I guess it was safe, but it felt pretty wobbly, and I was standing on it at the top of a long flight of stairs, with a glass-paneled door on the side. My right thumb was pretty useless, because the very first thing I had done was run my thumb over the wood trim, and I got a huge splinter -- bled all over the place for a few minutes.
After I stopped bleeding, I washed the wall, then I taped all around the edges, spackled the holes and where the old paint had peeled, and sanded the spackled spots and the various lumps, bumps, and uneven areas. This all took longer than it should have, because I had to search the work and storage areas to find all the tools and materials I needed. I ended up applying the spackle with an artist's palette knife, but it actually was the perfect implement for small holes.
All that took about an hour and a half for a 10'x12' wall. But the more effort you put into prep, the faster the actual painting will go, and the better it will look in the end.
Then I looked at the paint. The paint Russ had told me to use last Tuesday wasn't exactly the same color as the other walls, but he figured it was close enough (a medium light blue). But when I held the lid, that had some dried paint on it, up to the wall, it looked like it would clash badly with the trim color (medium blue). Unfortunately, Russ and the other staff people had made a run to Staples, so I had to wait for them to come back. I'm not going to paint the wall without final approval on the color.
Russ agreed that the original color choice wouldn't work, and we ended up going with a cream. The actual painting didn't take long at all. Russ said that he appreciated my efforts to do a good job. "Most of the people we get to help just slap it up", which was pretty obvious from the different layers of paint smeared on the adjoining paneled wall and the trim.
It looks good. Looks like a new wall -- not easy in such an old building. And oddly, the cream blends well with the blue on the other walls. You almost don't notice it's a different color. It brightens the badly-lit stairwell.
I must have made 15 trips up and down the stairs (higher ceilings downstairs - long flight), most of those trips carrying stuff, including the stepladder, to and from the workshop at the very back corner of the building, so I don't feel bad about not "exercising" today. I hadn't taken anything to drink, and nobody offered anything, and by 5 pm I thought I'd die of thirst. Lesson learned.
I needed to get gas on the way home, and stop at the grocery store for my every-other-Friday case of yogurt, but there was an accident on the bridge access road, so traffic was terrible. When I finally got to the gas station, cars were lined up into the street. I had to go around another way to get past, which brought me out north of the grocery store, ... and I gave up and went home. I'll get gas and yogurt tomorrow.
Frankly, I'm beat.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Thursday, April 27, 2006
#661 Piper Lunch, Van Return
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Dinner last night with Mensa, stayed over at Roman's. Lunch today with Piper and Vinnie. Catching up on blog-reading this afternoon. Maybe trivia tonight, maybe not, haven't decided yet. Still tired from last night.
I returned the rental car and picked up the van today. As of 3 pm second-choice garage still hadn't found out how they wanted to handle the warranty on the sensor, but I later got a call from them, they are willing to replace the sensor completely free of charge, NO labor cost. Whoop! I don't know how, but I won. Both first-choice garage and second-choice garage had said that I wouldn't get free labor no matter who replaced it, that labor is not covered by the warranty.
Second-choice garage will do it next Wednesday. So until then, I'll be driving the van with the "check engine" light on, but it shouldn't be a problem.
I hope.
Dinner last night with Mensa, stayed over at Roman's. Lunch today with Piper and Vinnie. Catching up on blog-reading this afternoon. Maybe trivia tonight, maybe not, haven't decided yet. Still tired from last night.
I returned the rental car and picked up the van today. As of 3 pm second-choice garage still hadn't found out how they wanted to handle the warranty on the sensor, but I later got a call from them, they are willing to replace the sensor completely free of charge, NO labor cost. Whoop! I don't know how, but I won. Both first-choice garage and second-choice garage had said that I wouldn't get free labor no matter who replaced it, that labor is not covered by the warranty.
Second-choice garage will do it next Wednesday. So until then, I'll be driving the van with the "check engine" light on, but it shouldn't be a problem.
I hope.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
#660 Quick Entry
The day got away from me again. I overslept a bit, then was awakened by the delivery of a BIG construction dumpster - they'll start stripping the roof on Saturday. I rushed into town because (again) I thought today was Thursday, and I had to meet Piper for lunch, but he wasn't in his office because (surprise!) today isn't Thursday.
So I went to the machines and exercised, got some few things cleaned up around the house, and now I have to shower again for dinner in LaGrange tonight. I doubt that I will have time to update until tomorrow. But, lunch with Piper tomorrow, maybe trivia with Tom tomorrow evening. Painting a wall at the museum Friday afternoon, so I'll probably spend some time Friday visiting galleries on the Rondout.
I don't know what's going on with the van. Don hasn't called, and I figure no news is good news.
There are FOUR bird's nests on or near the front porch. The pair of finches on the north light fixture, cardinals on the top of the south light, an unidentified pair on the bottom of the south light, and another unidentified pair in the shrub right next to the steps/ramp. All the nests have eggs, three in each. Roman fixed the switch last night so I can turn the porch lights on, but -- now I can't turn them on until the baby birds are out of the nests. I don't like not having a light, but I love having the birds, so it evens out.... But I'm going to get the wire up to foil nesting before the second round of egg-laying starts in mid-summer!
So I went to the machines and exercised, got some few things cleaned up around the house, and now I have to shower again for dinner in LaGrange tonight. I doubt that I will have time to update until tomorrow. But, lunch with Piper tomorrow, maybe trivia with Tom tomorrow evening. Painting a wall at the museum Friday afternoon, so I'll probably spend some time Friday visiting galleries on the Rondout.
I don't know what's going on with the van. Don hasn't called, and I figure no news is good news.
There are FOUR bird's nests on or near the front porch. The pair of finches on the north light fixture, cardinals on the top of the south light, an unidentified pair on the bottom of the south light, and another unidentified pair in the shrub right next to the steps/ramp. All the nests have eggs, three in each. Roman fixed the switch last night so I can turn the porch lights on, but -- now I can't turn them on until the baby birds are out of the nests. I don't like not having a light, but I love having the birds, so it evens out.... But I'm going to get the wire up to foil nesting before the second round of egg-laying starts in mid-summer!
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
#659 Van, Volunteer, Dinner
Yeah, a dud title, but it's to help me find entries, not to attract you!
Back in February, I had to have a sensor in the van replaced, and because it was a Saturday, I had the work done at my second-choice shop. So when the "check engine" light went on again last Thursday, I took the van to my first-choice shop (right next door to the second-choice). Guess what? It's the same sensor. And it's not anything wrong with the engine - it's definitely the sensor. So I spent some time today going back and forth between the two shops, because the sensor is still under the supplier's warranty, but I want the first-choice shop to do the replacement, not the second-choice shop. As of 5 pm, the issue of who gets what refund how and from whom was still unresolved. And I'm still driving the rental car.
I went over to the Maritime Museum this afternoon to meet the people and see what they have for me to do. There were no times available in the gift shop that worked for me, so I'm going to be working on maintenance. I get to paint an interior wall this Friday! (And, as Roman pointed out, that leaves the gift shop for "the little old ladies", which is just as well.) So today I got the tour and found out where the tools and supplies are, and so on.
Roman tutored Peter this afternoon, after which he came here and I cooked us dinner while he replaced the light switch in the foyer, and the batteries in the kitchen phone, then tested all the old batteries around here. Some of the batteries had "use by" dates of like 1998! Odd, but the date on the batteries had only a casual relationship to the tested strength.
Man, I'm rusty in the kitchen! I've cooked twice in the past four months, and neither meal came out as well as I'd hoped. At least this one was edible. The salad was actually pretty good.
I sent him home at 9, I was pretty tired. But I'll see him again tomorrow night. There's a Mensa dinner at a Cuban restaurant near his home, so I'll meet him at his house and we'll go together.
On other fronts, Fishkill sent an email today, says he'll call "soon", now that the project he'd been concentrating on is over. And there's a guy in Pleasant Valley that I'd been e-corresponding with over the past two weeks who sounded very interesting -- I was about ready to suggest that we meet -- until his email today, wherein he divulged that six years ago he "became a full gospel Pentecostal Christian". Oops. I see a potential for major friction. What had tripped the balance with Dreyfuss last week was his announcement that he was looking for an evangelical church to attend. My dating site profile says that "I eschew organized religion". Roman, after he stopped laughing, suggested that I might want to use a word everyone understands.
Bedtime. G'night.
Back in February, I had to have a sensor in the van replaced, and because it was a Saturday, I had the work done at my second-choice shop. So when the "check engine" light went on again last Thursday, I took the van to my first-choice shop (right next door to the second-choice). Guess what? It's the same sensor. And it's not anything wrong with the engine - it's definitely the sensor. So I spent some time today going back and forth between the two shops, because the sensor is still under the supplier's warranty, but I want the first-choice shop to do the replacement, not the second-choice shop. As of 5 pm, the issue of who gets what refund how and from whom was still unresolved. And I'm still driving the rental car.
I went over to the Maritime Museum this afternoon to meet the people and see what they have for me to do. There were no times available in the gift shop that worked for me, so I'm going to be working on maintenance. I get to paint an interior wall this Friday! (And, as Roman pointed out, that leaves the gift shop for "the little old ladies", which is just as well.) So today I got the tour and found out where the tools and supplies are, and so on.
Roman tutored Peter this afternoon, after which he came here and I cooked us dinner while he replaced the light switch in the foyer, and the batteries in the kitchen phone, then tested all the old batteries around here. Some of the batteries had "use by" dates of like 1998! Odd, but the date on the batteries had only a casual relationship to the tested strength.
Man, I'm rusty in the kitchen! I've cooked twice in the past four months, and neither meal came out as well as I'd hoped. At least this one was edible. The salad was actually pretty good.
I sent him home at 9, I was pretty tired. But I'll see him again tomorrow night. There's a Mensa dinner at a Cuban restaurant near his home, so I'll meet him at his house and we'll go together.
On other fronts, Fishkill sent an email today, says he'll call "soon", now that the project he'd been concentrating on is over. And there's a guy in Pleasant Valley that I'd been e-corresponding with over the past two weeks who sounded very interesting -- I was about ready to suggest that we meet -- until his email today, wherein he divulged that six years ago he "became a full gospel Pentecostal Christian". Oops. I see a potential for major friction. What had tripped the balance with Dreyfuss last week was his announcement that he was looking for an evangelical church to attend. My dating site profile says that "I eschew organized religion". Roman, after he stopped laughing, suggested that I might want to use a word everyone understands.
Bedtime. G'night.
#658 The Medieval Archetype Test
| Lover I'm not telling your actual score. Hmph! |
| The Lover (or Poet) is a rare type. (S)He has a rather contradictory nature. He is completely unselfish and generally regards others above himself, yet somehow in his effort to please, often ends up doing things that appear completely self-centered. The Lover loves people and strives for acceptance, but at the same time withdraws from the world. Lovers are authors, artists, philosophers, and musicians. They live unorthodox, unconventional, or even chaotic lives. Lovers experience the highest highs and lowest lows. The Lover's complement is the hardened, unhesitant Warrior. |
 |
| Link: The Medieval Archetype Test written by isayso on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test |
Monday, April 24, 2006
#657 Peanut Rebound
Monday, April 24, 2006
Remember the 6 30-gallon bags of plastic peanuts I delivered to Spackenkill Road (almost an hour away) last Thursday, when I tore up the bottom of the van on the woman's driveway?
Guess what I found on the ecycle list today.
Duh? Yup. That's her. I recognized the email address. There were lots of people closer, with decent driveways, to whom I could have given them. But she wanted them, and she was first in. And now not only is she reoffering them, but she's apparently not keeping any? She can't use them because there are "too many"? Duh?
I don't understand.
From now on I don't deliver.
Remember the 6 30-gallon bags of plastic peanuts I delivered to Spackenkill Road (almost an hour away) last Thursday, when I tore up the bottom of the van on the woman's driveway?
Guess what I found on the ecycle list today.
OFFERED - 6 30-gal bags of plastic peanuts - Spackenkill Road
Must pick up TODAY by 5pm. Town of Poughkeepsie, off Spackenkill Road.
I got them from another ecycler, but can't use them; there are just too
many! The bags are huge, so please bring mini van or p/u truck that
will hold them.
Must pick up TODAY by 5pm. Town of Poughkeepsie, off Spackenkill Road.
I got them from another ecycler, but can't use them; there are just too
many! The bags are huge, so please bring mini van or p/u truck that
will hold them.
Duh? Yup. That's her. I recognized the email address. There were lots of people closer, with decent driveways, to whom I could have given them. But she wanted them, and she was first in. And now not only is she reoffering them, but she's apparently not keeping any? She can't use them because there are "too many"? Duh?
I don't understand.
From now on I don't deliver.
#656 Volunteer Assignment
I went to the RSVP (Retired and Senior Volunteer Program) meeting this morning, and I got my assignment.
RSVP takes in requests for volunteers from all kinds of programs and not-for-profit organizations, and then farms volunteers out wherever needed. The woman asked me what I'd like to do, where I'd like to go (and I couldn't say "Wherever I'm most likely to meet healthy active 57-63 year-old men"), so I said the northeastern part of the county, and I'm shy and not very good at conversation (true), so visiting nursing homes and shut-ins probably isn't the best for me.
So, I have been assigned to the Hudson River Maritime Museum, on the Rondout. This may be ideal for me! She also said that the allover average for the RSVP volunteers is 2 to 4 hours a week. I can certainly do that, and still have time left over for Habitat for Humanity. I'd sorta like to do some respite care for Hospice, too, just a few hours a week. I remember how much I appreciated that when Jay was sick, but I think I'll wait a bit and see how this works out.
I have to be careful not to overcommit. Last time I did that, I figured that since I was working 40 hours a week for free, I may as well get paid, and I went back to work full time. Don't want to get back into that thinking....
I was surprised at the other volunteers at the meeting. They were all a lot older than me, and many of them were rather frail looking. Some will be assigned to drive people to medical appointments and on errands. That's a bit scary.
RSVP takes in requests for volunteers from all kinds of programs and not-for-profit organizations, and then farms volunteers out wherever needed. The woman asked me what I'd like to do, where I'd like to go (and I couldn't say "Wherever I'm most likely to meet healthy active 57-63 year-old men"), so I said the northeastern part of the county, and I'm shy and not very good at conversation (true), so visiting nursing homes and shut-ins probably isn't the best for me.
So, I have been assigned to the Hudson River Maritime Museum, on the Rondout. This may be ideal for me! She also said that the allover average for the RSVP volunteers is 2 to 4 hours a week. I can certainly do that, and still have time left over for Habitat for Humanity. I'd sorta like to do some respite care for Hospice, too, just a few hours a week. I remember how much I appreciated that when Jay was sick, but I think I'll wait a bit and see how this works out.
I have to be careful not to overcommit. Last time I did that, I figured that since I was working 40 hours a week for free, I may as well get paid, and I went back to work full time. Don't want to get back into that thinking....
I was surprised at the other volunteers at the meeting. They were all a lot older than me, and many of them were rather frail looking. Some will be assigned to drive people to medical appointments and on errands. That's a bit scary.
#655 What's My Major?
| You scored as Mathematics. You should be a Math major! Like Pythagoras, you are analytical, rational, and are always ready to tackle the problem head-on!
What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!<3) created with QuizFarm. |
Ahah! I did major in math, with an English minor. Psychology was (and still is) a major interest, but not much was offered in the only school I could afford to go to. Oddly, I'm actually not much interested in math, or in writing. I'm more interested in analysis and synthesis, and in reading. In other words, just dabbling. I wonder what that means. (Probably means I'm lazy.)
Sunday, April 23, 2006
#654 Sunday Defrag
Busy day today. It's pouring out, so I can't take stuff down to the basement, but I at least moved more containers to nearer the door and dusted off more shelf space in the basement.
I called the Hunk about the chimney work, watered the plants, made the hotel reservation for the trip to Ricketts Glen, took the van to the service station, dropped off the key with a note about what's wrong, picked up the rental car, and paid some bills. All I need to do now is wash my hair.
Last night, about 10 pm, I started a defragmenting run on the PC, and as of about 5 pm today it still wasn't finished. It says the "drive's content has changed: restarting..." about every 90 seconds. I had stopped everything except "creative launcher", "explorer", "rundll", and "systray". I don't really know what those things ARE, but either they won't or can't go away when I say "end task" on ctrl/alt/delete, so whatever they do, there's no way to stop them.
I finally gave up and called Hercules, and he said it might be my virus scanner waking up every so often. I finally just gave up on it. I'd really like to figure it out, though. This dog is getting slower and slower.
Roman called this evening, and he agreed it's probably the virus scanner. That, or a virus. Gack! And he says I should be able to stop "rundll", and that "creative launcher" must be something Jay added. Jay "improved" and recoded a lot of standard stuff on this machine, which is one of the biggest problems in maintaining it. A lot of it is nonstandard, and you don't know what until you run right into it.
I was shuffling through some old CDs this afternoon, and I found the backups Jay had made when he first installed this Windows 98 SE. There was also a disk labeled "Drives C and D Backup", AND one labeled "Drives E and F Backup".
E and F?
C and D are hard disks, but "My Computer" doesn't know anything about E or F. Roman says that Jay had obviously partitioned the hard disk (hence C and D), and it's possible that E and F are "hidden" partitions - which would explain why Jay had told me we had xx gigabytes of hard drive, but when I ask the computer how much we have, it shows a lot less. It would be interesting to find out what's on that E and F backup CD.
Roman says there is usually a way to make the hidden disks available by hitting a particular key (possibly a function key) on IPL, but there's no way to know what key, and there's probably a partitioning program around that I maybe could get to E and F through, but it's one of those things you don't touch unless you know exactly what you're doing.
Yeah, every once in a while I see that program, and so far I have resisted playing with it.
(I haven't seen anything associated with the AAVIT partnership on the visible disks, so I'll bet that's where it all is. And probably IBM stuff from when he was working from home. That doesn't seem to exist anywhere else, either.)
Oh, well. I am going to buy a new machine sometime soon. After I get the den cleaned out, I think. I guess I can limp along until then....
I called the Hunk about the chimney work, watered the plants, made the hotel reservation for the trip to Ricketts Glen, took the van to the service station, dropped off the key with a note about what's wrong, picked up the rental car, and paid some bills. All I need to do now is wash my hair.
Last night, about 10 pm, I started a defragmenting run on the PC, and as of about 5 pm today it still wasn't finished. It says the "drive's content has changed: restarting..." about every 90 seconds. I had stopped everything except "creative launcher", "explorer", "rundll", and "systray". I don't really know what those things ARE, but either they won't or can't go away when I say "end task" on ctrl/alt/delete, so whatever they do, there's no way to stop them.
I finally gave up and called Hercules, and he said it might be my virus scanner waking up every so often. I finally just gave up on it. I'd really like to figure it out, though. This dog is getting slower and slower.
Roman called this evening, and he agreed it's probably the virus scanner. That, or a virus. Gack! And he says I should be able to stop "rundll", and that "creative launcher" must be something Jay added. Jay "improved" and recoded a lot of standard stuff on this machine, which is one of the biggest problems in maintaining it. A lot of it is nonstandard, and you don't know what until you run right into it.
I was shuffling through some old CDs this afternoon, and I found the backups Jay had made when he first installed this Windows 98 SE. There was also a disk labeled "Drives C and D Backup", AND one labeled "Drives E and F Backup".
E and F?
C and D are hard disks, but "My Computer" doesn't know anything about E or F. Roman says that Jay had obviously partitioned the hard disk (hence C and D), and it's possible that E and F are "hidden" partitions - which would explain why Jay had told me we had xx gigabytes of hard drive, but when I ask the computer how much we have, it shows a lot less. It would be interesting to find out what's on that E and F backup CD.
Roman says there is usually a way to make the hidden disks available by hitting a particular key (possibly a function key) on IPL, but there's no way to know what key, and there's probably a partitioning program around that I maybe could get to E and F through, but it's one of those things you don't touch unless you know exactly what you're doing.
Yeah, every once in a while I see that program, and so far I have resisted playing with it.
(I haven't seen anything associated with the AAVIT partnership on the visible disks, so I'll bet that's where it all is. And probably IBM stuff from when he was working from home. That doesn't seem to exist anywhere else, either.)
Oh, well. I am going to buy a new machine sometime soon. After I get the den cleaned out, I think. I guess I can limp along until then....
Saturday, April 22, 2006
#653 Robbed!
I went to the flea market at the fair grounds today (free parking and free entry, by the way). It was HUGE!! as promised. There were vendors in all five buildings, plus tents outside around the buildings. Lots and lots of stuff, some new, some old, and all of it really cheap. I hadn't intended to buy anything - I'm mainly in throwing-out mode these days - but it was only 41 degrees at noon and raining steadily, and after two weeks of high 60s/low 70s, I wasn't dressed warmly enough. One of the first booths I passed was selling sweatshirts for $3, so I bought a really nice fuzzy gray one.
I walked around checking prices on items similar to things I have and want to get rid of, and admiring the crafty things. Despite my promise, I did buy something - a carved walking stick. The guy finds oddly shaped sticks/branches, and fashions them into fantasy animals. I bought a beasty with googly eyes and a mouthful of real deer teeth.
Because of the rain, it was very crowded. You had to weave in and out of clumps of people. I had my cash, folded, in a half-zipped pocket in my purse. The purse was in a large tote bag over my shoulder. I had peeled off $3 to pay for the sweatshirt, and $20 for the stick (inside the purse - I never actually took the wad out) and then I got hungry. At the food booth, I discovered that I had no money. There had been somewhere between $85 and $120 in there. I searched the purse and the tote bag, and it was gone. A pickpocket? I figure that'll teach me. If I had bought everything I wanted, at least now I'd have something to show for the money!
After the fair, I picked up the keys for the rental car (I'll drop off the van and switch to the rental tomorrow), and then met the roofers here and signed the contracts for the roof and the exhaust fan. Now we need a week's worth of dry weather.
-------------------------------
Nightline did a bit on rising gasoline prices last night. They laid the blame mainly on two factors. There's a law that requires that refineries add MTBE (ethanol?)(Later correction - see explanation at bottom of entry), and few refineries are currently set up to do it, which is causing an artificial shortage. China and India have increased their energy demands over the past few years, which puts more pressure on the supply, and therefore increases the price. I would add drivers of SUVs and Hummers (which Nightline mentioned but not so much as a cause, more as victims, who don't care because they are willing to pay it), and something that no one ever mentions - the building of all those superhighways and the increased power of the trucking companies, both of which led to the demise of the railroads and mass transit. A news program today pointed out the huge profits of the oil companies, and included a clip of GWB promising to look into gouging.
(Is it gouging when a company charges what other companies charge, everywhere? Is it gouging when we still pay about half what Europe pays? Is it gouging when pharmaceutical companies charge what the market will bear for cancer drugs? If US oil companies charged too little for the gasoline, then what's to stop other countries from buying it out from under us and taking it on home, causing a major domestic shortage? If I were France, I would! At what point does capitalism turn into gouging? Just a question -- no point intended.)
It bothers me that the perceived high price of gas increases anger toward middle eastern countries, when the US gets only about 15% of our crude from the middle east. Middle Eastern oil goes mainly to Europe and Asia. We get ours mostly from North, Central, and South America and a few other African countries, who, of course, charge as much as they can get away with. No altruism.
(Later edit - That didn't sound right, because I remembered that MTBE is a groundwater polluter, something I was worried about when Daughter was living in the middle of what amounted to an automobile junkyard, drinking and showering from a well. So I looked it up. The requirement is that refineries move away from MTBE and switch to ethanol. Since some localities will no longer allow the sale of gasoline with MTBE, and refineries are slow making the switch, the demand for gasoline with ethanol exceeds the supply. MTBE and ethanol both combat air pollution.)
I walked around checking prices on items similar to things I have and want to get rid of, and admiring the crafty things. Despite my promise, I did buy something - a carved walking stick. The guy finds oddly shaped sticks/branches, and fashions them into fantasy animals. I bought a beasty with googly eyes and a mouthful of real deer teeth.
Because of the rain, it was very crowded. You had to weave in and out of clumps of people. I had my cash, folded, in a half-zipped pocket in my purse. The purse was in a large tote bag over my shoulder. I had peeled off $3 to pay for the sweatshirt, and $20 for the stick (inside the purse - I never actually took the wad out) and then I got hungry. At the food booth, I discovered that I had no money. There had been somewhere between $85 and $120 in there. I searched the purse and the tote bag, and it was gone. A pickpocket? I figure that'll teach me. If I had bought everything I wanted, at least now I'd have something to show for the money!
After the fair, I picked up the keys for the rental car (I'll drop off the van and switch to the rental tomorrow), and then met the roofers here and signed the contracts for the roof and the exhaust fan. Now we need a week's worth of dry weather.
-------------------------------
Nightline did a bit on rising gasoline prices last night. They laid the blame mainly on two factors. There's a law that requires that refineries add MTBE (ethanol?)(Later correction - see explanation at bottom of entry), and few refineries are currently set up to do it, which is causing an artificial shortage. China and India have increased their energy demands over the past few years, which puts more pressure on the supply, and therefore increases the price. I would add drivers of SUVs and Hummers (which Nightline mentioned but not so much as a cause, more as victims, who don't care because they are willing to pay it), and something that no one ever mentions - the building of all those superhighways and the increased power of the trucking companies, both of which led to the demise of the railroads and mass transit. A news program today pointed out the huge profits of the oil companies, and included a clip of GWB promising to look into gouging.
(Is it gouging when a company charges what other companies charge, everywhere? Is it gouging when we still pay about half what Europe pays? Is it gouging when pharmaceutical companies charge what the market will bear for cancer drugs? If US oil companies charged too little for the gasoline, then what's to stop other countries from buying it out from under us and taking it on home, causing a major domestic shortage? If I were France, I would! At what point does capitalism turn into gouging? Just a question -- no point intended.)
It bothers me that the perceived high price of gas increases anger toward middle eastern countries, when the US gets only about 15% of our crude from the middle east. Middle Eastern oil goes mainly to Europe and Asia. We get ours mostly from North, Central, and South America and a few other African countries, who, of course, charge as much as they can get away with. No altruism.
(Later edit - That didn't sound right, because I remembered that MTBE is a groundwater polluter, something I was worried about when Daughter was living in the middle of what amounted to an automobile junkyard, drinking and showering from a well. So I looked it up. The requirement is that refineries move away from MTBE and switch to ethanol. Since some localities will no longer allow the sale of gasoline with MTBE, and refineries are slow making the switch, the demand for gasoline with ethanol exceeds the supply. MTBE and ethanol both combat air pollution.)
#652 Ricketts Glen Plans
I am going to Ricketts Glen the weekend of May 20. Let me know if anyone would like to join me.
Friday, April 21, 2006
#651 More Great Photos From Egypt
A Nation for All - http://www.bloglines.com/preview?siteid=5222683&itemid=27
#650 Thursday, Sick Van Again, and Friday
Friday, April 21, 2006
Well, well. No entry yesterday again. Maybe Mother IS losing it!
After Wednesday's entry, things got complicated. Roman was supposed to meet with Piper Wednesday afternoon, after which Roman and I would have dinner and a movie or something. Roman called during his lunch break to finalize, and I noticed that there was a message on my machine (I had been working in the basement and must have missed a call.) So after Roman hung up, I checked the message, and it was Piper - he had a plumbing problem at home, and wouldn't be able to meet with Roman, but was unable to contact him to cancel. I didn't have Roman's work number either. There ensued a few rounds of three-way phone tag, plus a trip into the village to put a note on Piper's office door, telling Roman to just come here when he arrived.
That ate up the afternoon. When I was finally able to catch Roman at his home, I asked if he still wanted to come to see me, and he said "Yes", which was nice, but then he added "I know the consequences if I don't." Which set the tone for the evening. Which was not good. Civil, but uncomfortable. And rather negative.
Then came Thursday.
I had listed 6 large bags of plastic packing peanuts late Wednesday on that Ecycle website I mentioned, and within seconds, a woman in Poughkeepsie had claimed them. I awoke yesterday to 20+ emails from other people wanting them. I started responding to the emails that they were gone, when it occurred to me that I should make sure this woman was going to take all of them before I discarded these offers, so I called her. I had offered in the ad to deliver, so she asked me to bring them to Pok at 3 that afternoon.
I screwed up.
Somehow, I had it stuck in my mind that "today" was Wednesday, not Thursday. I don't know why, but I've been doing that a lot lately. I was supposed to have lunch with Piper on Thursday, but, thinking it was Wednesday, I accidentally stood him up.
I didn't shower before leaving the house, and I was wearing "second-wearing" clothes, because I wanted to go to the exercise machines on the way to deliver the peanuts. Which I did. I worked the machines from 1 'til 2, and delivered the peanuts to Spackenkill Road at 3. The woman had a lip at the end of her driveway, and when I pulled in, and again when I pulled out, I scraped bottom badly (that low clearance on the van). Which sometimes isn't serious, but I got partway up Spackenkill, heading out on the almost-an-hour drive home, when a) the guy on the radio mention that today was Thursday (WHAT!!??), and b) the "check engine" light went on.
I had committed to go to the Third Thursday dinner, because Roman had to work that night, and he had given me the coupons. It's now about 3:30. I'd get home at 4:30ish, and have to leave at 5:15ish to come back to Pok for the dinner, and that's a lot of driving on a questionable van. I don't know what I may have torn loose. I couldn't like hang out at the mall and then go to dinner, because I stank, and I had no makeup on. I could either get the van looked at, or get me cleaned up, but not both. It was all suddenly too much for me to handle. I was ready to cry. I called Roman, who lives only about 10 minutes from where I was.
He was wonderful. We looked under the van. The only thing we saw was that it's dripping transmission fluid again. Everything else looked ok. He said it was probably ok to drive, but I should get it checked. And I could shower at his place and just chill until time to go to the dinner. I have an overnight case there, so it worked out. (He said my clothes didn't smell. Thank goodness I wear loose stuff.)
There were only three of us at the dinner. Tom and I were the first to arrive, and we decided that if no one else showed up, we'd cut out and go to Gentleman Jim's for dinner instead, and then we could play trivia after. But then another woman showed up, and she had no interest in Gentleman Jim's.
This woman happens to be Roman's financial advisor. And I am beginning to think ALL money management people are ditzy. We were looking at the placemats, and I remarked that I was born in the year of the monkey, and Tom said something about astrology, and she asked him what his birthdate was, and he told her, and said, "You know, that's the second time you've asked me that. We had this same conversation last time I saw you." She didn't remember, but she almost immediately turned to me and asked if I was married (this woman is famous for non sequiturs). I said "No, why do you ask", and she replied that that's why she didn't want to go to GJ's, because she wanted to get home to her husband.
I started laughing, and said "You've also asked me that before." The last time I had seen her, she had turned to Roman and me, and had said "My husband wants to know if you two are married." That was back when Roman was courting me big time, and it was obvious to everyone at the table that something big was going on. And I remember it especially because she, as his financial advisor, should have known his marital status, so it struck me as odd. Her response was "Oh, no. I would NEVER have asked if you and [Roman] were married, because I know [Roman] has a girlfriend, [so-and-so]. I know her because her ex-husband goes to my church. If I asked, it was just a joke."
I had a flash of anger. I said "Yes, but it wasn't a joke. Sorry, but I'm feeling a bit bitter right now. I wish you had told me about her then." She said "Oh, you do know about her?" (When you think about what she'd just said, that's a really dumb question....) I said "Yes, now I do, but I didn't know soon enough. He misled me." She asked "Does she know about you?", and I said "No, and that's so unfair, because now that I know, I got mean, and she's not, she's all sweetness and light, and he's comparing us, and that's so unfair." She sympathized. Then she said "Someone should tell her. She should know!" and she looked like she was the one to do it, and I suddenly realized that I had forgotten that this was a total ditz I was talking to. She's about the fourth person to tell me that Roman has a girlfriend, but she's the first to scare me.
I had gone too far. I asked her and Tom to please not say anything to anyone - but - she's a ditz. Sometimes I guess I am, too. My only consolation is that she has no contact with the woman, so her blathering to her is unlikely. Her blathering to or scolding Roman is a distinct possibility, however. On the other hand, she SAW us together at that dinner. She KNEW THEN that Roman and I were "involved". He walked up to me and kissed me right in front of her once. So this shouldn't be news to her. What the hell was in her mind then? What was in her mind last night, when she informed me Roman had a girlfriend named xxx? Mensa considered Roman and me a couple, so her announcing at a Mensa function that he had a girlfriend (by name, even) was very embarrassing to me. The woman is a ditz.
I am stupid. I am sick. I am a spurned woman. I am human. I know that if xxx did find out about me, and if Roman thought I was in any way responsible for her finding out, it would destroy the last shreds of our already-tattered friendship, and I don't want to lose that. Even if she throws him out (and I doubt that she cares for him enough to get angry, certainly not enough to throw out her 'faithful' servant, he's just too useful) if he thought I was responsible he wouldn't turn to me, so there's no advantage to me.
No matter what else stops, I never want to stop seeing his smile.
So, anyway, after dinner I went to trivia with Tom. He asked me if I'd like to go next Thursday, too. I said yes. There's a Mensa group in NYC who are always near the top of the national ranking, and we're considering a trip to the city to meet them and see them in action some summer Thursday. Tom is the subject of a lot of gossip in the local group, because he's been married like five times, and he's a bit of a hound. He's about 12 years younger than I, in love with a woman who shares his interest in hiking, and I don't get "hound" vibes from him at all, which is refreshing. We're trivia buddies, and I like him. He's fun.
So, today, bright and early, I took the van to my favorite garage. Unfortunately, it's also everybody else's favorite, too. The owner told me I could bring it in on Monday, but I have a volunteer meeting on Monday that I can't reschedule. The next available time is 8 am, Friday of next week, so I agreed to that. Not good.
Then I stopped by Piper's office because I just got a notice from the state that they were fining me $50 because my last business sales tax return was late. The Angel did mail the forms, but I don't know when. Neither Piper nor The Angel were there, but Vinnie was, so Vinnie and I went to lunch. Man, he can talk!
--------------------
Much later (6:30 pm):
While writing the above, I realized I could rent a wreck, which happens to be right next door to the garage. I called the garage, and the Monday slot is still available. I tried to call the car rental place, but they weren't in the book, so I ran down there and reserved a car for tomorrow. I can drop off the van at the garage tomorrow and pick up the rental, and I'm all set for Monday's meeting. (The car rental place wasn't in the book because they changed their name.)
Then I went and did a round on the exercise machines, plus 25 fast situps, and got thrown out because they were closing. They close early on Friday.
When I got home, there was a message on the tape from Roman, asking how the van was (wasn't that sweet of him?), and a message from the Hunk saying he'd be here Monday to finish the chimney work. I called Roman right back, but I guess he has already gone over to xxx's house - for the weekend, like every weekend, damn him. I left a long message. I probably won't hear from him again until Tuesday, if then.
Tomorrow is filling up. I'm going to a monster indoor flea market at the fair grounds, then I have to pick up the rental and drop off the van at 3 pm, then meet the roofer here at 4 to sign the contract. Then I'll sit here alone with PBS on Saturday night. (Fishkill would like to see me again, but he has a dance recital (per salsa lessons) on Sunday, and will be rehearsing, or I'd have invited him to share some Saturday time.)
And --- that's what I've been up to.
Well, well. No entry yesterday again. Maybe Mother IS losing it!
After Wednesday's entry, things got complicated. Roman was supposed to meet with Piper Wednesday afternoon, after which Roman and I would have dinner and a movie or something. Roman called during his lunch break to finalize, and I noticed that there was a message on my machine (I had been working in the basement and must have missed a call.) So after Roman hung up, I checked the message, and it was Piper - he had a plumbing problem at home, and wouldn't be able to meet with Roman, but was unable to contact him to cancel. I didn't have Roman's work number either. There ensued a few rounds of three-way phone tag, plus a trip into the village to put a note on Piper's office door, telling Roman to just come here when he arrived.
That ate up the afternoon. When I was finally able to catch Roman at his home, I asked if he still wanted to come to see me, and he said "Yes", which was nice, but then he added "I know the consequences if I don't." Which set the tone for the evening. Which was not good. Civil, but uncomfortable. And rather negative.
Then came Thursday.
I had listed 6 large bags of plastic packing peanuts late Wednesday on that Ecycle website I mentioned, and within seconds, a woman in Poughkeepsie had claimed them. I awoke yesterday to 20+ emails from other people wanting them. I started responding to the emails that they were gone, when it occurred to me that I should make sure this woman was going to take all of them before I discarded these offers, so I called her. I had offered in the ad to deliver, so she asked me to bring them to Pok at 3 that afternoon.
I screwed up.
Somehow, I had it stuck in my mind that "today" was Wednesday, not Thursday. I don't know why, but I've been doing that a lot lately. I was supposed to have lunch with Piper on Thursday, but, thinking it was Wednesday, I accidentally stood him up.
I didn't shower before leaving the house, and I was wearing "second-wearing" clothes, because I wanted to go to the exercise machines on the way to deliver the peanuts. Which I did. I worked the machines from 1 'til 2, and delivered the peanuts to Spackenkill Road at 3. The woman had a lip at the end of her driveway, and when I pulled in, and again when I pulled out, I scraped bottom badly (that low clearance on the van). Which sometimes isn't serious, but I got partway up Spackenkill, heading out on the almost-an-hour drive home, when a) the guy on the radio mention that today was Thursday (WHAT!!??), and b) the "check engine" light went on.
I had committed to go to the Third Thursday dinner, because Roman had to work that night, and he had given me the coupons. It's now about 3:30. I'd get home at 4:30ish, and have to leave at 5:15ish to come back to Pok for the dinner, and that's a lot of driving on a questionable van. I don't know what I may have torn loose. I couldn't like hang out at the mall and then go to dinner, because I stank, and I had no makeup on. I could either get the van looked at, or get me cleaned up, but not both. It was all suddenly too much for me to handle. I was ready to cry. I called Roman, who lives only about 10 minutes from where I was.
He was wonderful. We looked under the van. The only thing we saw was that it's dripping transmission fluid again. Everything else looked ok. He said it was probably ok to drive, but I should get it checked. And I could shower at his place and just chill until time to go to the dinner. I have an overnight case there, so it worked out. (He said my clothes didn't smell. Thank goodness I wear loose stuff.)
There were only three of us at the dinner. Tom and I were the first to arrive, and we decided that if no one else showed up, we'd cut out and go to Gentleman Jim's for dinner instead, and then we could play trivia after. But then another woman showed up, and she had no interest in Gentleman Jim's.
This woman happens to be Roman's financial advisor. And I am beginning to think ALL money management people are ditzy. We were looking at the placemats, and I remarked that I was born in the year of the monkey, and Tom said something about astrology, and she asked him what his birthdate was, and he told her, and said, "You know, that's the second time you've asked me that. We had this same conversation last time I saw you." She didn't remember, but she almost immediately turned to me and asked if I was married (this woman is famous for non sequiturs). I said "No, why do you ask", and she replied that that's why she didn't want to go to GJ's, because she wanted to get home to her husband.
I started laughing, and said "You've also asked me that before." The last time I had seen her, she had turned to Roman and me, and had said "My husband wants to know if you two are married." That was back when Roman was courting me big time, and it was obvious to everyone at the table that something big was going on. And I remember it especially because she, as his financial advisor, should have known his marital status, so it struck me as odd. Her response was "Oh, no. I would NEVER have asked if you and [Roman] were married, because I know [Roman] has a girlfriend, [so-and-so]. I know her because her ex-husband goes to my church. If I asked, it was just a joke."
I had a flash of anger. I said "Yes, but it wasn't a joke. Sorry, but I'm feeling a bit bitter right now. I wish you had told me about her then." She said "Oh, you do know about her?" (When you think about what she'd just said, that's a really dumb question....) I said "Yes, now I do, but I didn't know soon enough. He misled me." She asked "Does she know about you?", and I said "No, and that's so unfair, because now that I know, I got mean, and she's not, she's all sweetness and light, and he's comparing us, and that's so unfair." She sympathized. Then she said "Someone should tell her. She should know!" and she looked like she was the one to do it, and I suddenly realized that I had forgotten that this was a total ditz I was talking to. She's about the fourth person to tell me that Roman has a girlfriend, but she's the first to scare me.
I had gone too far. I asked her and Tom to please not say anything to anyone - but - she's a ditz. Sometimes I guess I am, too. My only consolation is that she has no contact with the woman, so her blathering to her is unlikely. Her blathering to or scolding Roman is a distinct possibility, however. On the other hand, she SAW us together at that dinner. She KNEW THEN that Roman and I were "involved". He walked up to me and kissed me right in front of her once. So this shouldn't be news to her. What the hell was in her mind then? What was in her mind last night, when she informed me Roman had a girlfriend named xxx? Mensa considered Roman and me a couple, so her announcing at a Mensa function that he had a girlfriend (by name, even) was very embarrassing to me. The woman is a ditz.
I am stupid. I am sick. I am a spurned woman. I am human. I know that if xxx did find out about me, and if Roman thought I was in any way responsible for her finding out, it would destroy the last shreds of our already-tattered friendship, and I don't want to lose that. Even if she throws him out (and I doubt that she cares for him enough to get angry, certainly not enough to throw out her 'faithful' servant, he's just too useful) if he thought I was responsible he wouldn't turn to me, so there's no advantage to me.
No matter what else stops, I never want to stop seeing his smile.
So, anyway, after dinner I went to trivia with Tom. He asked me if I'd like to go next Thursday, too. I said yes. There's a Mensa group in NYC who are always near the top of the national ranking, and we're considering a trip to the city to meet them and see them in action some summer Thursday. Tom is the subject of a lot of gossip in the local group, because he's been married like five times, and he's a bit of a hound. He's about 12 years younger than I, in love with a woman who shares his interest in hiking, and I don't get "hound" vibes from him at all, which is refreshing. We're trivia buddies, and I like him. He's fun.
So, today, bright and early, I took the van to my favorite garage. Unfortunately, it's also everybody else's favorite, too. The owner told me I could bring it in on Monday, but I have a volunteer meeting on Monday that I can't reschedule. The next available time is 8 am, Friday of next week, so I agreed to that. Not good.
Then I stopped by Piper's office because I just got a notice from the state that they were fining me $50 because my last business sales tax return was late. The Angel did mail the forms, but I don't know when. Neither Piper nor The Angel were there, but Vinnie was, so Vinnie and I went to lunch. Man, he can talk!
--------------------
Much later (6:30 pm):
While writing the above, I realized I could rent a wreck, which happens to be right next door to the garage. I called the garage, and the Monday slot is still available. I tried to call the car rental place, but they weren't in the book, so I ran down there and reserved a car for tomorrow. I can drop off the van at the garage tomorrow and pick up the rental, and I'm all set for Monday's meeting. (The car rental place wasn't in the book because they changed their name.)
Then I went and did a round on the exercise machines, plus 25 fast situps, and got thrown out because they were closing. They close early on Friday.
When I got home, there was a message on the tape from Roman, asking how the van was (wasn't that sweet of him?), and a message from the Hunk saying he'd be here Monday to finish the chimney work. I called Roman right back, but I guess he has already gone over to xxx's house - for the weekend, like every weekend, damn him. I left a long message. I probably won't hear from him again until Tuesday, if then.
Tomorrow is filling up. I'm going to a monster indoor flea market at the fair grounds, then I have to pick up the rental and drop off the van at 3 pm, then meet the roofer here at 4 to sign the contract. Then I'll sit here alone with PBS on Saturday night. (Fishkill would like to see me again, but he has a dance recital (per salsa lessons) on Sunday, and will be rehearsing, or I'd have invited him to share some Saturday time.)
And --- that's what I've been up to.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
#649 Busy & Recycling
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Just a quick entry, for Daughter.
I have swept the north end of the basement, and am now carrying storage containers full of fabric and trims down. Then I'll get cleaned up, possibly go do the exercise machines, and then meet Roman after his tutoring session with Piper, for dinner out and possibly a movie.
I've found a wonderful local web site, where you list stuff you are willing to give away or trade, and I can't wait to list the six large bags of plastic peanuts, Jay's skis, two bed frames, and whole lots of stuff in the basement that I couldn't just throw away. It was such a fortunate coincidence that there was an article in the newspaper about it.
It's at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HudsonValleyEcycle.
Later Edit: http://www.freecycle.org/display2.php is a list of similar sites worldwide. It's not sorted, so it'll take a while for me to locate other local groups - but go find yours!
Just a quick entry, for Daughter.
I have swept the north end of the basement, and am now carrying storage containers full of fabric and trims down. Then I'll get cleaned up, possibly go do the exercise machines, and then meet Roman after his tutoring session with Piper, for dinner out and possibly a movie.
I've found a wonderful local web site, where you list stuff you are willing to give away or trade, and I can't wait to list the six large bags of plastic peanuts, Jay's skis, two bed frames, and whole lots of stuff in the basement that I couldn't just throw away. It was such a fortunate coincidence that there was an article in the newspaper about it.
It's at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HudsonValleyEcycle.
Later Edit: http://www.freecycle.org/display2.php is a list of similar sites worldwide. It's not sorted, so it'll take a while for me to locate other local groups - but go find yours!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
#648 Daffodils
These are the daffodils in my yard. The pictures were taken last Saturday, and more have opened since then. It was overcast, so the photos are a bit dark, but you get the idea. I should have waited - the blossoms are much denser now.
Along the lower end of the driveway:
Along the front of the garage:
Along the side of the driveway:
There are a few more clumps scattered around the lawn.
About two weeks ago, when I had the dumpsters here, I mentioned that I had put some computer listings and dumps in, and that the next morning, I found paper streamers across the lawn and driveway. This is what it looked like after I cleared it off the drive and piled it at the end of the dumpster:
The blue you can see low beyond the trees, below the white clouds, are mountains, across the Hudson River.
Along the lower end of the driveway:
Along the front of the garage:
Along the side of the driveway:
There are a few more clumps scattered around the lawn.
About two weeks ago, when I had the dumpsters here, I mentioned that I had put some computer listings and dumps in, and that the next morning, I found paper streamers across the lawn and driveway. This is what it looked like after I cleared it off the drive and piled it at the end of the dumpster:
The blue you can see low beyond the trees, below the white clouds, are mountains, across the Hudson River.
#647 Some Blogs I Read
I've been very unhappy with the "news" reported in our local newspapers and on TV. There's nothing there. Even "Nightline" and the PBS information programs seem to have been watered down, or gotten awfully parochial. We don't know, and don't seem to want to know, what the rest of the world is doing or thinking. We hear of nothing but the sensational, and no one seems to think about what even that means. I guess partly because of that frustration, I've become addicted to blogs.
When I started my first journal on AOL, I started reading other AOL journals, mostly American. Interesting, but not particularly illuminating. Maybe, like me, most people avoid controversial topics because they don't want to deal with the fallout. The few blogs I visited that did express strong opinions tended to be rather vicious. Zealots, I guess.
From the American blogs I expanded to British bloggers. More interesting because so much of the day-to-day lifestyle and concerns are so different, yet the people were the same. I learned some stuff I didn't know. Like that although the British medical system is inexpensive for the people, it is very difficult to get timely and thorough care. It seems like you don't get a test unless you will die without that test. You have to be practically dying to get an appointment with a doctor. Otherwise, you get better on your own, or you get closer to dying. And the judgment on who is "worth" saving is more harsh.
I didn't get this from someone ranting about the system. I got it from ordinary people writing about their medical problems. They seem to accept the difficulty in getting care as perfectly normal.
I've been spreading out. There's the journalist in India I mentioned a few entries back, and now I'm fascinated by bloggers in the middle east. Some that I've been reading:
I don't like to comment or offer opinions on things I don't know a lot about, so I'll give you the links and let you form your own opinions. But one thing that impressed me is that there seems to be a very wide gulf between the moderate Muslims and the fanatics (of course!), and - the big thing - that there are a lot more moderates than we might have been led to believe. The fanatics are a minority, but they are in power, for various reasons. Throughout the middle east the moderates are chafing. It's an explosive situation. Weirdly, I see a parallel to the US. We have our own "religious police", and they're getting more powerful. How do you fight that?
So, anyway, this addiction is one reason the house clearing is moving slowly. That, and a very VERY slow dialup link.
When I started my first journal on AOL, I started reading other AOL journals, mostly American. Interesting, but not particularly illuminating. Maybe, like me, most people avoid controversial topics because they don't want to deal with the fallout. The few blogs I visited that did express strong opinions tended to be rather vicious. Zealots, I guess.
From the American blogs I expanded to British bloggers. More interesting because so much of the day-to-day lifestyle and concerns are so different, yet the people were the same. I learned some stuff I didn't know. Like that although the British medical system is inexpensive for the people, it is very difficult to get timely and thorough care. It seems like you don't get a test unless you will die without that test. You have to be practically dying to get an appointment with a doctor. Otherwise, you get better on your own, or you get closer to dying. And the judgment on who is "worth" saving is more harsh.
I didn't get this from someone ranting about the system. I got it from ordinary people writing about their medical problems. They seem to accept the difficulty in getting care as perfectly normal.
I've been spreading out. There's the journalist in India I mentioned a few entries back, and now I'm fascinated by bloggers in the middle east. Some that I've been reading:
- Rantings of a Sandmonkey - http://www.sandmonkey.org/ - excellent analysis of what's happening in Egypt and more generally in the middle east. For some great photos that you probably wouldn't see anywhere else, scroll down to the April 17 entry, "Doing the Media's Job". Entries above and below explain.
- The Big Pharaoh - http://www.bigpharaoh.com/ - Egyptian blogger, moderate Muslim, news and commentary.
- Mindbleed - http://www.mindbleed.com/ - Egyptian. Commentary, and the discussions in the comments are especially good.
- And Far Away... - http://andfaraway.blogspot.com/ - a woman in Jordan - not very political, but a woman's view of life.
- Saudi Jeans - http://saudijeans.blogspot.com/ - Saudi Arabia, young man's view, good links to other blogs and news reports.
I don't like to comment or offer opinions on things I don't know a lot about, so I'll give you the links and let you form your own opinions. But one thing that impressed me is that there seems to be a very wide gulf between the moderate Muslims and the fanatics (of course!), and - the big thing - that there are a lot more moderates than we might have been led to believe. The fanatics are a minority, but they are in power, for various reasons. Throughout the middle east the moderates are chafing. It's an explosive situation. Weirdly, I see a parallel to the US. We have our own "religious police", and they're getting more powerful. How do you fight that?
So, anyway, this addiction is one reason the house clearing is moving slowly. That, and a very VERY slow dialup link.
Monday, April 17, 2006
#646 Coincidences
Dreyfuss and I have been trading emails since dinner Saturday night. We set up another date for next Saturday, a monster flea market at the fairgrounds. He sent an enthusiastic note saying that he thought things were going very well, did I agree? He shouldn't have asked.
I thought about it a long time. I really did want to see him again, but I also knew that this wasn't going anywhere. So I sent him a note early Sunday evening that although I "find you good looking, intelligent, articulate, accepting, a gentleman, not a player, easy to talk with, open minded, with a close and supportive family, and generally happy with your life", I didn't think we were likely to connect long term, and that I didn't know why, but it was like a jigsaw puzzle piece that's the right color and shape, but still just doesn't fit, and I was worried about wasting his time. But (I'm such a waffle) if he still wanted to get together Saturday, I'd enjoy his company.
Later Sunday evening, there was entry #645, and I understood a little bit better the nature of the disconnect with Dreyfuss. There are things he likes and does that I would have some trouble appreciating. The mysterious piercings are only a tiny part - I might even get past that easily. But his idea of Heaven probably involves a huge recliner in front of a monster TV, with NASCAR races on, and a lot of beer and beer buddies. I'd have some trouble with that. I guess I'm as big a snob as Jay's father. But really, it just wouldn't work. I suspect that many of the things that make him happy would bother me. (I'm sure the reverse would also be true.)
That, of course, led to the thought that Roman and I like pretty much the same things. Our tastes are very similar. The degree here and there might vary, but it's all acceptable. At a basic level, we fit perfectly. There are a few places where our personalities clash, but nothing talking can't fix. Piper asked if I was comparing all these guys I'm meeting with Roman, and of course I am. How could I not?
I didn't hear from Dreyfuss again until this afternoon, when I got an email from him in which he agreed that the chemistry wasn't there, and it was ok, and he hoped I'd see it as mutual, and that no, he didn't think next Saturday was a good idea. I was happy that he took it ok and wasn't angry with me, but I was disappointed that he didn't want to see me again anyway. It wasn't a pride thing. I don't want to be touched by him, or to enter his life, or let him very far into mine, but I still wanted to talk more with him. I didn't know what my problem was, why I couldn't let him go, until I read the blog of a very perceptive young woman who said:
"I've been thinking I fixate on people and find myself with a near-compulsive urge to get inside their heads, and wondering why this is so. Sometimes I (do we all? am I unique in this?) just clock someone, pick up on a few things they say, get a few bits of insight into their character and feel an urgent need to know them, to understand them, to know what goes on in their mind -- maybe to figure the world out one person at a time."
... and I think she nailed it. I feel a need to know him. He's very different from most of the people I know, and I want to see into his mind and his world.
I think that's part of the problem with Roman, too. There are still a lot of things I don't understand, and I can't let go of him until I do.
On the "Fishkill" side, he had taken some pictures in the B&N parking lot on Saturday morning, and I got an email note from him Sunday morning saying that he had uploaded and cropped them, and he would send the large files to me to resize as I like, so I should expect "a torrent of emails" from him "this afternoon or this evening" with the photos attached. They haven't arrived yet. I'm getting anxious.
Ahah! As I was writing the above, I heard the "plop" of email dropping into my reader. It's the photos, from Fishkill. A torrent. Pardon me while I go look at them.
I thought about it a long time. I really did want to see him again, but I also knew that this wasn't going anywhere. So I sent him a note early Sunday evening that although I "find you good looking, intelligent, articulate, accepting, a gentleman, not a player, easy to talk with, open minded, with a close and supportive family, and generally happy with your life", I didn't think we were likely to connect long term, and that I didn't know why, but it was like a jigsaw puzzle piece that's the right color and shape, but still just doesn't fit, and I was worried about wasting his time. But (I'm such a waffle) if he still wanted to get together Saturday, I'd enjoy his company.
Later Sunday evening, there was entry #645, and I understood a little bit better the nature of the disconnect with Dreyfuss. There are things he likes and does that I would have some trouble appreciating. The mysterious piercings are only a tiny part - I might even get past that easily. But his idea of Heaven probably involves a huge recliner in front of a monster TV, with NASCAR races on, and a lot of beer and beer buddies. I'd have some trouble with that. I guess I'm as big a snob as Jay's father. But really, it just wouldn't work. I suspect that many of the things that make him happy would bother me. (I'm sure the reverse would also be true.)
That, of course, led to the thought that Roman and I like pretty much the same things. Our tastes are very similar. The degree here and there might vary, but it's all acceptable. At a basic level, we fit perfectly. There are a few places where our personalities clash, but nothing talking can't fix. Piper asked if I was comparing all these guys I'm meeting with Roman, and of course I am. How could I not?
I didn't hear from Dreyfuss again until this afternoon, when I got an email from him in which he agreed that the chemistry wasn't there, and it was ok, and he hoped I'd see it as mutual, and that no, he didn't think next Saturday was a good idea. I was happy that he took it ok and wasn't angry with me, but I was disappointed that he didn't want to see me again anyway. It wasn't a pride thing. I don't want to be touched by him, or to enter his life, or let him very far into mine, but I still wanted to talk more with him. I didn't know what my problem was, why I couldn't let him go, until I read the blog of a very perceptive young woman who said:
"I've been thinking I fixate on people and find myself with a near-compulsive urge to get inside their heads, and wondering why this is so. Sometimes I (do we all? am I unique in this?) just clock someone, pick up on a few things they say, get a few bits of insight into their character and feel an urgent need to know them, to understand them, to know what goes on in their mind -- maybe to figure the world out one person at a time."
... and I think she nailed it. I feel a need to know him. He's very different from most of the people I know, and I want to see into his mind and his world.
I think that's part of the problem with Roman, too. There are still a lot of things I don't understand, and I can't let go of him until I do.
-------------------------------------------------
On the "Fishkill" side, he had taken some pictures in the B&N parking lot on Saturday morning, and I got an email note from him Sunday morning saying that he had uploaded and cropped them, and he would send the large files to me to resize as I like, so I should expect "a torrent of emails" from him "this afternoon or this evening" with the photos attached. They haven't arrived yet. I'm getting anxious.
Ahah! As I was writing the above, I heard the "plop" of email dropping into my reader. It's the photos, from Fishkill. A torrent. Pardon me while I go look at them.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
#645 Disapproval
I was looking at the tv guide to see if there was anything worth watching tonight, and noticed there was a new Malcolm in the Middle on tonight, and I decided to watch it.
That reminded me of a friend, whose tastes are very similar to mine. We like a lot of the same things. However, he can't expose a lot of his tastes and preferences to his girlfriend, because "she wouldn't approve." I don't understand. I understand how you can be friends with someone whose tastes are different, but I don't understand how you can be that close to someone who doesn't approve of the basic you.
I am watching Malcolm now. I know that right now my friend is at his girlfriend's house, and he has his machine set to record Malcolm at home. I think that's so sad.
It reminds me of a lot of Mensans, who will look down their noses at you and declare "I don't even OWN a television set." They seem to feel that this is somehow superior. Like there can't possibly be anything worthy on "the boob tube", and they're not even willing to discuss the possibility. These are the same people who reject all but the snootiest magazines. It was very embarrassing to them when the largest jump in Mensa membership occurred as a direct result of a sample test in Reader's Digest.
Jay's father is very much like that. Even though much of his research has been in television (the technical/engineering aspects), he brags that the only channel he watches at home is the weather channel. He was visiting once when a show that Jay and I very much enjoyed was on, and we asked him to watch it with us. It was an early Frasier, and that night happened to be an especially good show. When it was over, Jay and I looked at each other, pleased, then we looked at Dad.
He was sitting there with his arms folded, frowning, and he said,
and I quote,
"Well. THAT was a complete waste of time."
At that moment, for a moment, I hated him.
He sure as Hell would never had made it as my boyfriend, and I pitied Jay his childhood. I pity my friend his girlfriend. My friend needs to value himself more.
That reminded me of a friend, whose tastes are very similar to mine. We like a lot of the same things. However, he can't expose a lot of his tastes and preferences to his girlfriend, because "she wouldn't approve." I don't understand. I understand how you can be friends with someone whose tastes are different, but I don't understand how you can be that close to someone who doesn't approve of the basic you.
I am watching Malcolm now. I know that right now my friend is at his girlfriend's house, and he has his machine set to record Malcolm at home. I think that's so sad.
It reminds me of a lot of Mensans, who will look down their noses at you and declare "I don't even OWN a television set." They seem to feel that this is somehow superior. Like there can't possibly be anything worthy on "the boob tube", and they're not even willing to discuss the possibility. These are the same people who reject all but the snootiest magazines. It was very embarrassing to them when the largest jump in Mensa membership occurred as a direct result of a sample test in Reader's Digest.
Jay's father is very much like that. Even though much of his research has been in television (the technical/engineering aspects), he brags that the only channel he watches at home is the weather channel. He was visiting once when a show that Jay and I very much enjoyed was on, and we asked him to watch it with us. It was an early Frasier, and that night happened to be an especially good show. When it was over, Jay and I looked at each other, pleased, then we looked at Dad.
He was sitting there with his arms folded, frowning, and he said,
and I quote,
"Well. THAT was a complete waste of time."
At that moment, for a moment, I hated him.
He sure as Hell would never had made it as my boyfriend, and I pitied Jay his childhood. I pity my friend his girlfriend. My friend needs to value himself more.
#644 Peeps
I had been trying to ignore marshmallow peeps. Sugar. Oh, dear. I'm down another two pounds, and I want to keep it that way.
But they're everywhere this weekend. I think about how wonderfully plump and warm and soft they get in the microwave. They chase me, peeping at my heels.
This afternoon I was asked to write something moving about someone I loved who had died. I wrote about Jay's lopsided smile when he saw me coming down the hall at the rehab center.
Then someone mentioned peeps. I was not at that nostalgic moment able to ignore peeps.
I remembered the time, before we were married, when Jay and I were driving through Catskill, a particular street and intersection, and I was feeding him peeps, one bite for him, one for me. We were so happy. The older couple in the car behind us were laughing at us, and waved at us, and the woman gave the man a kiss when we all stopped at the traffic light. It was spring, and we were in love.
I couldn't stand it any more. I went to the drug store and bought peeps. The properly yellow ones. One pack for now, and one to let get stale and chewy.
Here's to you, Jay. I love you, still.
But they're everywhere this weekend. I think about how wonderfully plump and warm and soft they get in the microwave. They chase me, peeping at my heels.
This afternoon I was asked to write something moving about someone I loved who had died. I wrote about Jay's lopsided smile when he saw me coming down the hall at the rehab center.
Then someone mentioned peeps. I was not at that nostalgic moment able to ignore peeps.
I remembered the time, before we were married, when Jay and I were driving through Catskill, a particular street and intersection, and I was feeding him peeps, one bite for him, one for me. We were so happy. The older couple in the car behind us were laughing at us, and waved at us, and the woman gave the man a kiss when we all stopped at the traffic light. It was spring, and we were in love.
I couldn't stand it any more. I went to the drug store and bought peeps. The properly yellow ones. One pack for now, and one to let get stale and chewy.
Here's to you, Jay. I love you, still.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
#643 Dates
OK, so I met Fishkill for the first time this morning. He showed up at Barnes & Noble with a huge box of chocolates. I find him intelligent, very good-looking, and interesting. He seems to have had a colorful life, and he did ask some probing questions. I don't think he liked some of the answers. He could be difficult, but he could be worth it. He could also be dangerous. I love the smell of testosterone. He seems full of the stuff. The difficulty is that he may be looking for an as-long-as-it's-fun bed partner, and I'm looking for a life partner. I indicated that I'd like to see him again, and his answer was interesting. He said that right now he wanted to sleep with me, and he'd have to let that die down before he could think reasonably about it. So however it goes, at least he's honest and up-front, and if there's a difference in our expectations, he's aware of it and taking it into consideration.
Dinner this evening with Dreyfuss, second meeting. He's the one with the piercings I don't want to know about. Our backgrounds and lifestyles are so very different, I had sort of planned to cut him loose this evening. But I didn't. I couldn't. He's very nice, and good looking, a gentleman, and very easy to talk with. He's intelligent, understanding and accepting, and unfazed by my most outrageous statements. A very open mind. So, he asked me out again, and I said yes. This may be a mistake. I wish I could see the future.
And, that's how my day went.
I don't know why I'm not very excited about any of it. Maybe it's because these guys are strangers, the big unknown, and I really want something more comfortable. Someone I've known for a long time. Something more predictable.
The big difference between the young me and the now me is that the young me could see the good and the bad, wanted the good, and figured she could change, fix, or live with the bad. The now me knows that you have to accept the bad with the good, ain't nothin' gonna change, nohow. So my advice to me now is that if something bothers me now, don't bother going any further, because the bother just gets bigger.
I'm not very good at taking my own advice. This could get interesting.
Dinner this evening with Dreyfuss, second meeting. He's the one with the piercings I don't want to know about. Our backgrounds and lifestyles are so very different, I had sort of planned to cut him loose this evening. But I didn't. I couldn't. He's very nice, and good looking, a gentleman, and very easy to talk with. He's intelligent, understanding and accepting, and unfazed by my most outrageous statements. A very open mind. So, he asked me out again, and I said yes. This may be a mistake. I wish I could see the future.
And, that's how my day went.
I don't know why I'm not very excited about any of it. Maybe it's because these guys are strangers, the big unknown, and I really want something more comfortable. Someone I've known for a long time. Something more predictable.
The big difference between the young me and the now me is that the young me could see the good and the bad, wanted the good, and figured she could change, fix, or live with the bad. The now me knows that you have to accept the bad with the good, ain't nothin' gonna change, nohow. So my advice to me now is that if something bothers me now, don't bother going any further, because the bother just gets bigger.
I'm not very good at taking my own advice. This could get interesting.
Friday, April 14, 2006
#642 Fallout Zone?
I was talking with someone recently about how this area was getting so built up so fast, and housing prices were still going up so fast, and that it was odd that just 20 miles south, where it's so much easier to commute to the city, what with a Metro North station and the highways and all, there isn't the same growth.
He said, "Indian Point."
Indian Point is a nuclear facility on the Hudson River.
This area marks the northernmost boundary of the fallout zone.
Oh.
He said, "Indian Point."
Indian Point is a nuclear facility on the Hudson River.
This area marks the northernmost boundary of the fallout zone.
Oh.
#641 Nohari Results
It's been a long time since I requested contributions to my Nohari Window. Many invitees sent an email saying that they couldn't find any terms that fit, or that fit consistently enough that they felt comfortable selecting them, and Nohari insisted on a minimum of five terms, so they refused to do it. So I got only 5 contributors.
Of the five, four know me in person (three currently, and one old friend I haven't actually seen since college), and one knows me only from my journals.
I had selected as my self-description:
Others chose:
Also, I hesitate to ask people questions unless I already know them very well, already know that the question is not intrusive, or already know the answer. I am very wary of intruding. That could be seen as aloofness, I guess. Like I don't care. I do, but I prefer that information be volunteered. I don't know why I'm so shy about that (well, I vividy recall being severely chastized on a few occasions in my youth by people I respected for asking questions that were "none of my business", and it frightened me then). I am aware it is a problem.
Daughter commented just yesterday, in connection with planning the time and location of her various wedding festivities, that I am obviously more comfortable in smaller groups, so she wouldn't feel bad about scheduling the bigger bashes when I might not be available. Which is a bit off, because although I am more likely to participate in a smaller group, I still enjoy larger groups as much. It's just that I am more quiet, more the watcher on the sidelines, in a larger group. (You know, it has just occurred to me that maybe my being a watcher sometimes makes others uncomfortable. But I'm not all that judgmental....)
The "unhappy" surprised me a bit. I think I'm basically happy. I have unhappy flashes, but I eventually beat them away. Mostly, I'm a little lonely now. I'm happy enough being alone, but sometimes I need someone to share with, and that need does seem to be increasing. (Funny, I just noticed that statement conflicts with the "aloof" perception.)
If you want to see the positives, just for review, go to my Johari Window.
Of the five, four know me in person (three currently, and one old friend I haven't actually seen since college), and one knows me only from my journals.
I had selected as my self-description:
- aloof
- insecure
- insensitive
- inattentive
- cynical
- predictable
Others chose:
- aloof - 3
- withdrawn - 2
- unhappy -2
- boastful - 2
- impatient - 2
- intolerant - 1
- inflexible - 1
- cynical - 1
- distant - 1
- imperceptive - 1
- chaotic - 1
- embarrassed - 1
- panicky - 1
- self-satisfied - 1
- overdramatic - 1
- predictable - 1
- unreliable - 1
Also, I hesitate to ask people questions unless I already know them very well, already know that the question is not intrusive, or already know the answer. I am very wary of intruding. That could be seen as aloofness, I guess. Like I don't care. I do, but I prefer that information be volunteered. I don't know why I'm so shy about that (well, I vividy recall being severely chastized on a few occasions in my youth by people I respected for asking questions that were "none of my business", and it frightened me then). I am aware it is a problem.
Daughter commented just yesterday, in connection with planning the time and location of her various wedding festivities, that I am obviously more comfortable in smaller groups, so she wouldn't feel bad about scheduling the bigger bashes when I might not be available. Which is a bit off, because although I am more likely to participate in a smaller group, I still enjoy larger groups as much. It's just that I am more quiet, more the watcher on the sidelines, in a larger group. (You know, it has just occurred to me that maybe my being a watcher sometimes makes others uncomfortable. But I'm not all that judgmental....)
The "unhappy" surprised me a bit. I think I'm basically happy. I have unhappy flashes, but I eventually beat them away. Mostly, I'm a little lonely now. I'm happy enough being alone, but sometimes I need someone to share with, and that need does seem to be increasing. (Funny, I just noticed that statement conflicts with the "aloof" perception.)
If you want to see the positives, just for review, go to my Johari Window.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
#640 Bits & Pieces, 04/13/06
I coulda sworn I posted an entry yesterday, but I can't find it anywhere.
The temperature in the village was 78 today. So nice. I stopped in at Piper's office to review the tax forms, and ended up trying to help him to access his email. Roman had taught him, but Piper forgot. His account is with Frontiernet. I have email accounts on something like five different servers, and I have never seen a less intuitive less usable interface. Frontiernet is a mess. We ended up going to lunch, and I brought the tax returns home with me to review.
When I came home I checked my own email. One of my accounts I use for "groups" only. I usually see maybe 1 to 5 emails on that account per day. Today there were 26! At first I thought there was something wrong, but it turned out that the local Mensa group had gotten all het up on two topics, and went a little crazy. Unfortunately, nobody had anything interesting to say about any of it. One of the topics, in fact, was all kinds of suggestions to fix a monthly dinner that 1) isn't broken, and 2) is the provence of the host (who happens to be Roman, who was at work and not involved in the discussion), and others should stay out of it anyway. So I blasted off a blistering post to that effect --- and there hasn't been a peep out of anyone since. Ain't nothin' like pissing off half your entire social group in one fell swoop.
Do you know what the "fell" in "fell swoop" means? It means "destructive, or deadly".
It's mid-April, and May is almost here. May, when the trees are in bloom, is my favorite month, especially around here, where there are so many orchards. My woods are mostly black locust, ancient apples (remnants of a colonial orchard), and wild cherries. In past years, when the locusts bloomed, long grape-like clusters of creamy flowers, the heavy sweet scent was heavenly. The last few years they've been hardly blooming. There's some kind of pest that's killing the locusts, and they aren't blooming because they're so weak. Sad.
I have two dates next Saturday.
I'll be meeting Fishkill (he's a golfer, not an angler - Fishkill is a town down the road) for the first time Saturday morning, for coffee and yummies. After almost two weeks and about 30 emails, it's about time. I like the way his mind works, so I'm hoping for the best. His profile describes his match as "slender and fit". I'm hoping my smiling eyes and scintillating mind will distract him.
Saturday evening I'll have dinner with Dreyfuss. I'm looking for something for the long haul, and I think I'm going to have to tell him that although I find him interesting, I don't think the prospects are good. Our interests and backgrounds are too dissimilar. (There's the NASCAR thing. And his small tattoos don't bother me, but when we were talking about them on Sunday, he happened to mention that he also had some piercings. I was sitting across the table from him, and I could see his face and ears, and his arms to mid-forearm, and I didn't see any piercings. Um. Cringe. Super cringe. I didn't ask. I changed the subject. I really really don't EVER want to know.)
Roman called last night and we talked for about an hour, and as predicted, I softened. It looks like we are settling into a rather standard date every two weeks(!), and one phone call on the off weeks, and no "intimate time". This is not my choice. At first it seemed like he was trying to start over - we had been going dutch for a long time - now he wants to pay for everything. But now I'm not sure. I don't know what's going on. Last month he was teaching evening classes Monday through Thursday, so time was tight, but this week it's Tuesday and Thursday only, so I can't use that as an excuse any more. I'm trying to be very cool about it. (Well, warm to him, but cool about the situation.)
The temperature in the village was 78 today. So nice. I stopped in at Piper's office to review the tax forms, and ended up trying to help him to access his email. Roman had taught him, but Piper forgot. His account is with Frontiernet. I have email accounts on something like five different servers, and I have never seen a less intuitive less usable interface. Frontiernet is a mess. We ended up going to lunch, and I brought the tax returns home with me to review.
When I came home I checked my own email. One of my accounts I use for "groups" only. I usually see maybe 1 to 5 emails on that account per day. Today there were 26! At first I thought there was something wrong, but it turned out that the local Mensa group had gotten all het up on two topics, and went a little crazy. Unfortunately, nobody had anything interesting to say about any of it. One of the topics, in fact, was all kinds of suggestions to fix a monthly dinner that 1) isn't broken, and 2) is the provence of the host (who happens to be Roman, who was at work and not involved in the discussion), and others should stay out of it anyway. So I blasted off a blistering post to that effect --- and there hasn't been a peep out of anyone since. Ain't nothin' like pissing off half your entire social group in one fell swoop.
Do you know what the "fell" in "fell swoop" means? It means "destructive, or deadly".
====================================
It's mid-April, and May is almost here. May, when the trees are in bloom, is my favorite month, especially around here, where there are so many orchards. My woods are mostly black locust, ancient apples (remnants of a colonial orchard), and wild cherries. In past years, when the locusts bloomed, long grape-like clusters of creamy flowers, the heavy sweet scent was heavenly. The last few years they've been hardly blooming. There's some kind of pest that's killing the locusts, and they aren't blooming because they're so weak. Sad.
====================================
I have two dates next Saturday.
I'll be meeting Fishkill (he's a golfer, not an angler - Fishkill is a town down the road) for the first time Saturday morning, for coffee and yummies. After almost two weeks and about 30 emails, it's about time. I like the way his mind works, so I'm hoping for the best. His profile describes his match as "slender and fit". I'm hoping my smiling eyes and scintillating mind will distract him.
Saturday evening I'll have dinner with Dreyfuss. I'm looking for something for the long haul, and I think I'm going to have to tell him that although I find him interesting, I don't think the prospects are good. Our interests and backgrounds are too dissimilar. (There's the NASCAR thing. And his small tattoos don't bother me, but when we were talking about them on Sunday, he happened to mention that he also had some piercings. I was sitting across the table from him, and I could see his face and ears, and his arms to mid-forearm, and I didn't see any piercings. Um. Cringe. Super cringe. I didn't ask. I changed the subject. I really really don't EVER want to know.)
Roman called last night and we talked for about an hour, and as predicted, I softened. It looks like we are settling into a rather standard date every two weeks(!), and one phone call on the off weeks, and no "intimate time". This is not my choice. At first it seemed like he was trying to start over - we had been going dutch for a long time - now he wants to pay for everything. But now I'm not sure. I don't know what's going on. Last month he was teaching evening classes Monday through Thursday, so time was tight, but this week it's Tuesday and Thursday only, so I can't use that as an excuse any more. I'm trying to be very cool about it. (Well, warm to him, but cool about the situation.)
====================================
The city of Schenectady, about an hour up the river, "accidentally" passed a really stupid law. For a few days it was illegal to park a car on any city street for longer than 12 hours. Vehicles parked for more than 12 hours would be ticketed. Duh? On the residential streets, the houses are close together with postage-stamp lawns if any, and no garages or driveways. A member of the city council said that the purpose of the law was to prevent trailers and abandoned cars cluttering up the streets. The reporter interviewed a businessman who pointed out a Lexus with flat tires that had been parked in front of his store "for the past year". The law has been repealed and is being rewritten after complaints from the citizenry.
Now, I'm having a LOT of trouble with this story. It's got so much stupidity it scares me.
Did no one on the city council READ the law before they voted on it? "12 hours" is pretty specific. That wasn't an accident. They didn't think about what that meant? Maybe they meant the 12 hours to apply only to trailers? There's no city attorney to review proposed laws? Did they think that putting tickets on abandoned cars would stop people from abandoning them? If a citizen goes away on business and leaves his car parked in front of his home, will it be ticketed? What's he supposed to do with it? Take it with him? There's an abandoned Lexus sitting there for a year, and no one reported it? No one investigated it? Sounds to me like it's probably a stolen car, ditched after a joyride. Wouldn't it make more sense to encourage citizens to report abandoned cars, and have the police attempt to locate an owner and/or then tow? Ticketing abandoned cars makes no sense at all. ("Yes, you owe the city of Schenectady $145,820 in parking tickets for allowing your car to be stolen and then abandoned on our streets for over a year, you careless person. You probably litter, too!")
Schenectady scares me.
Now, I'm having a LOT of trouble with this story. It's got so much stupidity it scares me.
Did no one on the city council READ the law before they voted on it? "12 hours" is pretty specific. That wasn't an accident. They didn't think about what that meant? Maybe they meant the 12 hours to apply only to trailers? There's no city attorney to review proposed laws? Did they think that putting tickets on abandoned cars would stop people from abandoning them? If a citizen goes away on business and leaves his car parked in front of his home, will it be ticketed? What's he supposed to do with it? Take it with him? There's an abandoned Lexus sitting there for a year, and no one reported it? No one investigated it? Sounds to me like it's probably a stolen car, ditched after a joyride. Wouldn't it make more sense to encourage citizens to report abandoned cars, and have the police attempt to locate an owner and/or then tow? Ticketing abandoned cars makes no sense at all. ("Yes, you owe the city of Schenectady $145,820 in parking tickets for allowing your car to be stolen and then abandoned on our streets for over a year, you careless person. You probably litter, too!")
Schenectady scares me.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
#639 On the Roof
I received the new estimate for the roof job in the mail today.
The first estimate, the one that floored me, was $16,500 all inclusive.
This one is $11,900 all inclusive. The guy left a sample of the shingles he would use, and they are comparable. In fact, possibly better, since these are 30-year, and in the first estimate I believe we were looking at 20-year. Everything else is the same - 40 squares (40 10x10 sections), ice and water shield on edges and valleys, 30-lb felt paper, new drip edge, new boots on exhaust pipes, antenna removed/replaced and flashed, cobra ridge vent, and all debris disposal.
AND, the best part, the father of the roofer had given me a card worth 10% off a roofing job, so I can deduct $1,190, making the estimate $10,710. (I verified all this on the phone a few minutes ago.)
That's a BIG difference.
Actually, it's not an estimate. It's more like a bid. It says on the bottom that there can be no alterations or deviations involving extra costs without a written order. Cool.
If this were the first estimate I'd received, I'd still be stunned. But as the second, I'm relieved.
The first estimate, the one that floored me, was $16,500 all inclusive.
This one is $11,900 all inclusive. The guy left a sample of the shingles he would use, and they are comparable. In fact, possibly better, since these are 30-year, and in the first estimate I believe we were looking at 20-year. Everything else is the same - 40 squares (40 10x10 sections), ice and water shield on edges and valleys, 30-lb felt paper, new drip edge, new boots on exhaust pipes, antenna removed/replaced and flashed, cobra ridge vent, and all debris disposal.
AND, the best part, the father of the roofer had given me a card worth 10% off a roofing job, so I can deduct $1,190, making the estimate $10,710. (I verified all this on the phone a few minutes ago.)
That's a BIG difference.
Actually, it's not an estimate. It's more like a bid. It says on the bottom that there can be no alterations or deviations involving extra costs without a written order. Cool.
If this were the first estimate I'd received, I'd still be stunned. But as the second, I'm relieved.
#638 Tuesday
Blah day. 70 degrees, but no sun. Glad there's no wind, either, because the men were on the roof again today replacing the cement top on the chimney, and they have asked me to turn the furnace off and leave it off until the cement around the flue has had a chance to set. I guess I can let the house drop to about 60 this evening, but at that point I'm going to have to turn the furnace on. I'm annoyed that they didn't warn me about this part.
Hmmm - I forgot - I still have the backup electric heat on the heat pump. That will require swapping the baffles, which is a minor pain, but I could do that, I guess. At least I won't have to turn the water on. Good. If I hadn't written this, I wouldn't have remembered it.
I haven't heard from Fishkill since yesterday morning. Bad sign, considering that we had been swapping emails at the rate of three to five a day. I am such a klutz.
I also haven't heard from Roman since he was here last Wednesday - neither phone call nor email. Apparently Piper hasn't either. Somehow I wouldn't be surprised if neither of us heard from him until next week. He's really starting to piss me off.
Yeah, I think and say that all the time, and then completely forgive him as soon as I see him or hear his voice again.
I hate this. I wish I had better control of my own feelings.
Hmmm - I forgot - I still have the backup electric heat on the heat pump. That will require swapping the baffles, which is a minor pain, but I could do that, I guess. At least I won't have to turn the water on. Good. If I hadn't written this, I wouldn't have remembered it.
I haven't heard from Fishkill since yesterday morning. Bad sign, considering that we had been swapping emails at the rate of three to five a day. I am such a klutz.
I also haven't heard from Roman since he was here last Wednesday - neither phone call nor email. Apparently Piper hasn't either. Somehow I wouldn't be surprised if neither of us heard from him until next week. He's really starting to piss me off.
Yeah, I think and say that all the time, and then completely forgive him as soon as I see him or hear his voice again.
I hate this. I wish I had better control of my own feelings.
Monday, April 10, 2006
#637 OkCupid Type Test
Link: The 32-Type Dating Test by OkCupid - Free Online Dating. My profile name: [Deleted] |
#636 And Now an Unanswerable Question
Monday, April 10, 2006
I had to call the AOL technical help phone line the other day to solve a problem. I expected to be on hold for a while, and to get blah assistance. My earlier experiences with AOL chat help were so bad I accused the "helper" of being an automated keyword recognition program. He was very indignant, "I am too alive!"
Instead, this time I got right in, the guy knew exactly what my problem was, fixed it immediately, and stayed on the line until I tried it and was satisfied.
So today AOL asked me to take a satisfaction survey. Everything was fine, I rated everything as "Excellent", until I got to the following two questions (quoted as well as I can remember):
What was your expectation of AOL Customer Service before you called?
Excellent
Good
Average
Fair
Poor
I answered "Average", because I didn't expect much. The next question:
How would you rate AOL Customer Service on meeting your expectations?
Excellent
Good
Average
Fair
Poor
Now how the heck do you answer that? They were nowhere near my expectations, so do I answer "Poor"? If I had expected the service to be "Poor", and if it was in fact "Poor", exactly as expected, should I respond that they were "Excellent" on meeting my expectations? Having met my expectations exactly? Maybe I should have answered "Average", but that would imply that I usually expect average performance and usually get excellent performance.
Did anyone review or test these questions before they sent them out?
I had to call the AOL technical help phone line the other day to solve a problem. I expected to be on hold for a while, and to get blah assistance. My earlier experiences with AOL chat help were so bad I accused the "helper" of being an automated keyword recognition program. He was very indignant, "I am too alive!"
Instead, this time I got right in, the guy knew exactly what my problem was, fixed it immediately, and stayed on the line until I tried it and was satisfied.
So today AOL asked me to take a satisfaction survey. Everything was fine, I rated everything as "Excellent", until I got to the following two questions (quoted as well as I can remember):
What was your expectation of AOL Customer Service before you called?
Excellent
Good
Average
Fair
Poor
I answered "Average", because I didn't expect much. The next question:
How would you rate AOL Customer Service on meeting your expectations?
Excellent
Good
Average
Fair
Poor
Now how the heck do you answer that? They were nowhere near my expectations, so do I answer "Poor"? If I had expected the service to be "Poor", and if it was in fact "Poor", exactly as expected, should I respond that they were "Excellent" on meeting my expectations? Having met my expectations exactly? Maybe I should have answered "Average", but that would imply that I usually expect average performance and usually get excellent performance.
Did anyone review or test these questions before they sent them out?
#635 One Nice Note, and One Stupid Stupid Stupid Note
Monday, April 10, 2006
I forgot to mention - I heard from Dreyfuss. He says I'm "an attractive interesting lady" and he hopes that "perhaps we can meet again". So I suggested dinner (diner, dutch). I'm still not too very enthusiastic - remember, I'm looking for someone who can maybe possibly displace Roman. That's a tall order.
There's another guy, let's call him Fishkill, in whom I am very interested. We've been firing emails back and forth, probably 25 or so by now. I discovered we both also have profiles on a brand new site with an interesting "guided" process, where they select the people to whom they introduce you, and they don't allow direct email contact between two people until you have gone through personality tests, and answered specific questions posed to each other, and so on. So we've been following that process and "behind the building" commenting back and forth to each other about it (wildly against the rules!) I find his mind fascinating. My only concern is that he describes his ideal as "energetic, athletic, firm, and slender."
Uh oh.
Um, would you call Dolly Parton with wide baby-birthing hip bones and short powerful legs "slender"? I will NEVER be slender, even at my ideal weight, which, incidentally, is still two or three months off. And I am strong, even powerful, and fairly well muscled (I build muscle easily), but not I'm not "athletic". I can walk for miles at a reasonable pace, especially now that I've lost more weight, but I flatly refuse to run. (Not to mention that at my age and build, bouncing boobs bruise my chin.) And with all this loose newly-emptied skin, I am anything but "firm". Gack. Should I warn him or not? Should I hope that at first meeting my smiling eyes and scintillating mind distract him?
Well, back to the stupid stupid stupid note. We had to chose some questions to send each other on this new site. I answered both questions from him honestly, but one of my answers was (I feared) likely to raise a question in his mind which I would prefer not to answer just yet. But just in case, I spent some time last night composing an answer, really thinking about it, in case he asked the question. Giving myself time to think about it and all that. I wasn't completely satisfied with it, but I'd have more time to think about it, right? Then I stored it in the "To be sent later" folder on AOL. When I brought AOL up this morning, one of the first things that popped up was the "You have mail waiting to be sent" blurb.
Yeah. You guessed it.
I accidentally hit the "Send now" button, instead of the "Send later". I had recently installed a new version of AOL, and the location of that button had changed. The first time I had brought up this AOL, a few weeks ago, I had embarrassed myself terribly by doing the same thing, and sent some never-should-have-been-sent emails, notably to Roman (who knew my mood at the time I had originally written those unsent emails, and forgave me. I think.) Since then, I've been careful to put my own address in the "to" field, until I'm really ready to send it, so if I screw up it will just come to me. I didn't follow my own rule this time.
I immediately fired off a note telling him what had happened and begging for pity. (My premature anticipation of his unasked question makes me sound both aggressive and defensive, and a damned prude to boot.) Unfortunately, he didn't read that note until AFTER he had read the first note, and responded to it. His response was humorous, but with an undercurrent of sarcasm and bitterness. Which I completely understand. Sigh.
I may have blown it. Sad. He coulda been a contender.
I forgot to mention - I heard from Dreyfuss. He says I'm "an attractive interesting lady" and he hopes that "perhaps we can meet again". So I suggested dinner (diner, dutch). I'm still not too very enthusiastic - remember, I'm looking for someone who can maybe possibly displace Roman. That's a tall order.
There's another guy, let's call him Fishkill, in whom I am very interested. We've been firing emails back and forth, probably 25 or so by now. I discovered we both also have profiles on a brand new site with an interesting "guided" process, where they select the people to whom they introduce you, and they don't allow direct email contact between two people until you have gone through personality tests, and answered specific questions posed to each other, and so on. So we've been following that process and "behind the building" commenting back and forth to each other about it (wildly against the rules!) I find his mind fascinating. My only concern is that he describes his ideal as "energetic, athletic, firm, and slender."
Uh oh.
Um, would you call Dolly Parton with wide baby-birthing hip bones and short powerful legs "slender"? I will NEVER be slender, even at my ideal weight, which, incidentally, is still two or three months off. And I am strong, even powerful, and fairly well muscled (I build muscle easily), but not I'm not "athletic". I can walk for miles at a reasonable pace, especially now that I've lost more weight, but I flatly refuse to run. (Not to mention that at my age and build, bouncing boobs bruise my chin.) And with all this loose newly-emptied skin, I am anything but "firm". Gack. Should I warn him or not? Should I hope that at first meeting my smiling eyes and scintillating mind distract him?
Well, back to the stupid stupid stupid note. We had to chose some questions to send each other on this new site. I answered both questions from him honestly, but one of my answers was (I feared) likely to raise a question in his mind which I would prefer not to answer just yet. But just in case, I spent some time last night composing an answer, really thinking about it, in case he asked the question. Giving myself time to think about it and all that. I wasn't completely satisfied with it, but I'd have more time to think about it, right? Then I stored it in the "To be sent later" folder on AOL. When I brought AOL up this morning, one of the first things that popped up was the "You have mail waiting to be sent" blurb.
Yeah. You guessed it.
I accidentally hit the "Send now" button, instead of the "Send later". I had recently installed a new version of AOL, and the location of that button had changed. The first time I had brought up this AOL, a few weeks ago, I had embarrassed myself terribly by doing the same thing, and sent some never-should-have-been-sent emails, notably to Roman (who knew my mood at the time I had originally written those unsent emails, and forgave me. I think.) Since then, I've been careful to put my own address in the "to" field, until I'm really ready to send it, so if I screw up it will just come to me. I didn't follow my own rule this time.
I immediately fired off a note telling him what had happened and begging for pity. (My premature anticipation of his unasked question makes me sound both aggressive and defensive, and a damned prude to boot.) Unfortunately, he didn't read that note until AFTER he had read the first note, and responded to it. His response was humorous, but with an undercurrent of sarcasm and bitterness. Which I completely understand. Sigh.
I may have blown it. Sad. He coulda been a contender.
#634 Monday
Monday, April 10, 2006
I went to a Mensa board meeting last night, where I was appointed a member of the newly formed dues hardship committee. They wanted life members on the committee, because we don't pay dues, and therefore would have less interest in the outcome. Then they gave us a budget equal to two memberships for the year. Two. We have 200+ members, most of whom are underemployed, and we have something like 9 colleges in our area. This could get nasty. I may have stepped in it. Gack.
I have men on my roof right now, with a masonry saw (?) and what looks and sounds like a mini-jackhammer, removing the cement cap from the chimney, and building a wood frame for the replacement cement. They've been up there for almost two hours now, and the noise is making it hard to think. At least no one has fallen off or through the roof yet - my biggest fear. Tomorrow the mason comes to pour a new cement cap. Wednesday, rain is predicted. Is this a problem?
There's also a young man with a ... um ... it's like a frontloader on one end and a mini-steamshovel on the other end ... spreading topsoil in the hollow in the front yard where we burned all the brush earlier this year. The Hairless Hunk is directing operations. I haven't had the heart yet to tell him I'm getting more estimates on replacing the shingles. But I have to.
I went to a Mensa board meeting last night, where I was appointed a member of the newly formed dues hardship committee. They wanted life members on the committee, because we don't pay dues, and therefore would have less interest in the outcome. Then they gave us a budget equal to two memberships for the year. Two. We have 200+ members, most of whom are underemployed, and we have something like 9 colleges in our area. This could get nasty. I may have stepped in it. Gack.
---------------------------------------------
I have men on my roof right now, with a masonry saw (?) and what looks and sounds like a mini-jackhammer, removing the cement cap from the chimney, and building a wood frame for the replacement cement. They've been up there for almost two hours now, and the noise is making it hard to think. At least no one has fallen off or through the roof yet - my biggest fear. Tomorrow the mason comes to pour a new cement cap. Wednesday, rain is predicted. Is this a problem?
There's also a young man with a ... um ... it's like a frontloader on one end and a mini-steamshovel on the other end ... spreading topsoil in the hollow in the front yard where we burned all the brush earlier this year. The Hairless Hunk is directing operations. I haven't had the heart yet to tell him I'm getting more estimates on replacing the shingles. But I have to.
---------------------------------------------
There was a news story this morning about how libraries are getting tougher about overdue books and unpaid fines. Reminded me of a story.
My purse was stolen about 25 years ago. I immediately called the bank, and the credit card companies, and so on, and I also called the library to report my library card was stolen.
The woman I talked to was confused, "Why are you reporting a stolen library card?"
I told her, "Well, if I were a bad person and stole a library card, I'd immediately go to every library in the city, and take out a gazillion books, and keep them!"
When she stopped laughing, she pointed out that purse snatchers are not likely to be readers.
Me: "Oh."
My purse was stolen about 25 years ago. I immediately called the bank, and the credit card companies, and so on, and I also called the library to report my library card was stolen.
The woman I talked to was confused, "Why are you reporting a stolen library card?"
I told her, "Well, if I were a bad person and stole a library card, I'd immediately go to every library in the city, and take out a gazillion books, and keep them!"
When she stopped laughing, she pointed out that purse snatchers are not likely to be readers.
Me: "Oh."
Sunday, April 09, 2006
#633 Natural Highs
Got this off a Mensa site. Now I know why I'm generally happy. I get most of these things often, and I appreciate every one.
1. Falling in love.
2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.
3. A hot shower.
4. No lines at the supermarket
5. A special glance.
6. Getting mail
7. Taking a drive on a pretty road.
8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.
10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.
11. Chocolate milkshake. (or vanilla or strawberry!)
12. A bubble bath.
13. Giggling.
14. A good conversation.
15. The beach.
16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.
17. Laughing at yourself.
19. Midnight phone calls that last for hours.
20. Running through sprinklers.
21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.
22. Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.
23. Laughing at an inside joke.
24. Friends.
25. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.
26. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.
27. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).
28. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.
29. Playing with a new puppy.
30. Having someone play with your hair.
31. Sweet dreams.
32. Hot chocolate.
33. Road trips with friends.
34. Swinging on swings.
35. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.
36. Making chocolate chip cookies.
37. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.
38. Holding hands with someone you care about.
39. Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.
40. Watching the expression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.
41. Watching the sunrise.
42. Getting out of bed every morning and being grateful for another beautiful day.
43. Knowing that somebody misses you.
44. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.
45. Knowing you've done the right thing, no matter what other people think.
Natural Highs
1. Falling in love.
2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.
3. A hot shower.
4. No lines at the supermarket
5. A special glance.
6. Getting mail
7. Taking a drive on a pretty road.
8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.
10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.
11. Chocolate milkshake. (or vanilla or strawberry!)
12. A bubble bath.
13. Giggling.
14. A good conversation.
15. The beach.
16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.
17. Laughing at yourself.
19. Midnight phone calls that last for hours.
20. Running through sprinklers.
21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.
22. Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.
23. Laughing at an inside joke.
24. Friends.
25. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.
26. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.
27. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).
28. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.
29. Playing with a new puppy.
30. Having someone play with your hair.
31. Sweet dreams.
32. Hot chocolate.
33. Road trips with friends.
34. Swinging on swings.
35. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.
36. Making chocolate chip cookies.
37. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.
38. Holding hands with someone you care about.
39. Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.
40. Watching the expression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.
41. Watching the sunrise.
42. Getting out of bed every morning and being grateful for another beautiful day.
43. Knowing that somebody misses you.
44. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.
45. Knowing you've done the right thing, no matter what other people think.
#632 Do I Really Need A Title for Every Entry?
Sunday, April 9, 2006
Well, I met Dreyfuss this morning, and it was ok. There was no immediate connection - in fact for the first half hour he didn't look me in the eye, but then time speeded up and it got better. I was there an hour and a half. He seems nice enough. He doesn't have my last name or phone number yet. I'm to email him with my number, so I have a little time to think about it. I don't know where it might go. It didn't seem completely positive, but it wasn't negative, either. We'll see.
This is my Personality Profile from one of the newer dating sites:
You are a DIRECTOR/negotiator
You are an innovator. You are an inventive, thorough, independent thinker with a deep interest in how the world works. You quickly grasp patterns and relationships. And when you focus on a particular work-related or social puzzle, you often come up with novel theories and ideas about it.
You have a strong need to achieve. You want to make an impact on the world. And with your aptitude for theoretical thinking, your investigative rigor, your logic and your determination, you are likely to win the honors your hard work deserves.
You are a complex person, outwardly assertive, logical and intellectual, yet likely to see the many sides of an issue, feel deep sympathy for others and enjoy the spiritual as well as the concrete.
You can be friendly, insightful and eager to please. These attributes, combined with your love of challenges and knowledge, make you an exciting, and at times, very sensitive companion.
Duh?
Well, it's wrong on winning the honors. I never win the honors. Not that I didn't deserve a few honors along the line, but it seems like I was always too early or too politically incorrect.
This one doesn't say anything about Leadership. Most profiles of me do, and as soon as I see "Leadership", I figure it's a lot of baloney. Leadership to me always brought a vision of someone leading the troops over a barricade, or whipping up enthusiasm in a team, or something. I can't, don't, and don't want to do anything like that. I was a team leader once at work, and hated it.
But I had a sort of epiphany today. Leadership doesn't necessarily involve pulling along followers! Leadership can also mean forging new paths. Innovating. Not following the herd. It's something a little more than simply not being a follower. It means having vision beyond the herd, and implementing that vision. (In fact, you can be a follower, and still be a leader. Power behind the throne kind of thing.) In that sense, I AM a Leader. I don't follow the group just because it's the safe thing to do. I frequently go my own way and do my own thing. Sometimes I can bring the herd along with me, but that frequently requires more social and political skill than I have. And more "desire to make an impact" than I have - so I guess the above profile is wrong there, too.
I mentioned that at the Volunteer Fair, I had signed up for, among other things, CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates). They deal with neglected and abused children involved in the family courts. To quote from their pamphlet: "Today, CASA is the only organization that empowers everyday citizens as officers of the court. [Me - not technically true, volunteer mediators are also officers of the court, which carries a legal requirement to report certain offenses to the court, and which can be a social burden.] CASA is an information gatherer and an advocate for the best interests of the child. Volunteer advocates review records, research information and talk to all involved. They visit the child regularly ... " etc. Where the social workers may have 20-30 cases at a time, the CASA volunteer concentrates on one or two.
I thought I could be good at this. I know about abuse and neglect. I know about manipulation. I'm very good at research. I write good clear reports. I pay attention to detail. There's a lot of education and training involved, but I have the time. I figured it would be a good way to meet handsome single lawyers. Ok, scratch that one. Family court attorneys are haggard and overworked.
But, almost everyone I've asked about it has advised me against it. They tell me I have too much of a tendency to take in strays, and this will tear me apart. One friend asked if I could work at the SPCA shelter, and if the answer is no, then I shouldn't attempt this. I can't even GO to the shelter. If I wanted to adopt a beastie, they'd have to bring The One out to me a few blocks away. I am still haunted to tears by a little abandoned whippet I had to leave on a Florida beach 13 years ago.
On the other hand, I remember how my brother and I tried to get help many years ago, and how no one would listen to us. I want to make a difference. (Ok, so maybe that profile's "desire to make an impact" isn't too far off.)
If I can't do it myself, maybe one of you can. See http://www.nationalcasa.org/
Well, I met Dreyfuss this morning, and it was ok. There was no immediate connection - in fact for the first half hour he didn't look me in the eye, but then time speeded up and it got better. I was there an hour and a half. He seems nice enough. He doesn't have my last name or phone number yet. I'm to email him with my number, so I have a little time to think about it. I don't know where it might go. It didn't seem completely positive, but it wasn't negative, either. We'll see.
-----------------------------------------------------------
This is my Personality Profile from one of the newer dating sites:
You are a DIRECTOR/negotiator
You are an innovator. You are an inventive, thorough, independent thinker with a deep interest in how the world works. You quickly grasp patterns and relationships. And when you focus on a particular work-related or social puzzle, you often come up with novel theories and ideas about it.
You have a strong need to achieve. You want to make an impact on the world. And with your aptitude for theoretical thinking, your investigative rigor, your logic and your determination, you are likely to win the honors your hard work deserves.
You are a complex person, outwardly assertive, logical and intellectual, yet likely to see the many sides of an issue, feel deep sympathy for others and enjoy the spiritual as well as the concrete.
You can be friendly, insightful and eager to please. These attributes, combined with your love of challenges and knowledge, make you an exciting, and at times, very sensitive companion.
Duh?
Well, it's wrong on winning the honors. I never win the honors. Not that I didn't deserve a few honors along the line, but it seems like I was always too early or too politically incorrect.
This one doesn't say anything about Leadership. Most profiles of me do, and as soon as I see "Leadership", I figure it's a lot of baloney. Leadership to me always brought a vision of someone leading the troops over a barricade, or whipping up enthusiasm in a team, or something. I can't, don't, and don't want to do anything like that. I was a team leader once at work, and hated it.
But I had a sort of epiphany today. Leadership doesn't necessarily involve pulling along followers! Leadership can also mean forging new paths. Innovating. Not following the herd. It's something a little more than simply not being a follower. It means having vision beyond the herd, and implementing that vision. (In fact, you can be a follower, and still be a leader. Power behind the throne kind of thing.) In that sense, I AM a Leader. I don't follow the group just because it's the safe thing to do. I frequently go my own way and do my own thing. Sometimes I can bring the herd along with me, but that frequently requires more social and political skill than I have. And more "desire to make an impact" than I have - so I guess the above profile is wrong there, too.
-----------------------------------------------------------
I mentioned that at the Volunteer Fair, I had signed up for, among other things, CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates). They deal with neglected and abused children involved in the family courts. To quote from their pamphlet: "Today, CASA is the only organization that empowers everyday citizens as officers of the court. [Me - not technically true, volunteer mediators are also officers of the court, which carries a legal requirement to report certain offenses to the court, and which can be a social burden.] CASA is an information gatherer and an advocate for the best interests of the child. Volunteer advocates review records, research information and talk to all involved. They visit the child regularly ... " etc. Where the social workers may have 20-30 cases at a time, the CASA volunteer concentrates on one or two.
I thought I could be good at this. I know about abuse and neglect. I know about manipulation. I'm very good at research. I write good clear reports. I pay attention to detail. There's a lot of education and training involved, but I have the time. I figured it would be a good way to meet handsome single lawyers. Ok, scratch that one. Family court attorneys are haggard and overworked.
But, almost everyone I've asked about it has advised me against it. They tell me I have too much of a tendency to take in strays, and this will tear me apart. One friend asked if I could work at the SPCA shelter, and if the answer is no, then I shouldn't attempt this. I can't even GO to the shelter. If I wanted to adopt a beastie, they'd have to bring The One out to me a few blocks away. I am still haunted to tears by a little abandoned whippet I had to leave on a Florida beach 13 years ago.
On the other hand, I remember how my brother and I tried to get help many years ago, and how no one would listen to us. I want to make a difference. (Ok, so maybe that profile's "desire to make an impact" isn't too far off.)
If I can't do it myself, maybe one of you can. See http://www.nationalcasa.org/
Saturday, April 08, 2006
#631
The carting man and his roofer son came today to look at the roof. I'll be getting an estimate in the mail early next week. They recommended that instead of an exhaust fan in the gable, I should have one of those funny spinning mushroom things in the top of the roof. I'll have to research them a bit. It'll let the hot air out in the summer, but will it let cold air in in the winter? Will it move as much air as an electric fan? Won't it look ugly, depending on where they put it?
I didn't do much of anything else today. I discovered the blog of a female journalist in India (http://soniafaleiro.blogspot.com/). She did a recent series on domestic workers in India, and I was fascinated. Spent much of the day reading her archives.
I don't think I want to go to India - I don't think I could handle the poverty - but she travels a lot in southern Asia, and she has reawakened my desire for Thailand.
I'm meeting Dreyfuss for brunch tomorrow, at his daughter's deli. I don't think the he-me combination has any future, I suspect our lifestyles and backgrounds are too different. I mean, he says things like "Well now Little Lady..." in his emails (which, by the way, are otherwise well composed and articulate), and keeps wanting to come down here and pick me up to "save me the drive". (Anyone who knows me at all will be cringing.) Way to get my back up. I think he would prefer someone in an apron.
If it comes to it, I don't know how to handle rejecting him. I hope he doesn't like me. How did I get myself into this? I can't not go tomorrow....
Maybe I should overdress and wear all my diamonds and keep bringing the conversation around to Shakespeare and my favorite London pubs.
With my luck he'd love that.
I didn't do much of anything else today. I discovered the blog of a female journalist in India (http://soniafaleiro.blogspot.com/). She did a recent series on domestic workers in India, and I was fascinated. Spent much of the day reading her archives.
I don't think I want to go to India - I don't think I could handle the poverty - but she travels a lot in southern Asia, and she has reawakened my desire for Thailand.
I'm meeting Dreyfuss for brunch tomorrow, at his daughter's deli. I don't think the he-me combination has any future, I suspect our lifestyles and backgrounds are too different. I mean, he says things like "Well now Little Lady..." in his emails (which, by the way, are otherwise well composed and articulate), and keeps wanting to come down here and pick me up to "save me the drive". (Anyone who knows me at all will be cringing.) Way to get my back up. I think he would prefer someone in an apron.
If it comes to it, I don't know how to handle rejecting him. I hope he doesn't like me. How did I get myself into this? I can't not go tomorrow....
Maybe I should overdress and wear all my diamonds and keep bringing the conversation around to Shakespeare and my favorite London pubs.
With my luck he'd love that.
Friday, April 07, 2006
#630 Toll Takers
I crossed the river today, on the Kingston-Rhinecliff bridge, and realized once again that I miss the toll takers. When I lived in Highland and worked in Poughkeepsie, I used to buy a book of commuter tickets for $.40 a west-to-east crossing on the Mid-Hudson bridge. I'd stop at the toll booth, and the toll takers always had something pleasant to say as they ripped off the ticket. They'd comment on the weather, or wish me a nice day, or a happy holiday, or, if female, they'd compliment my hair or jewelry. It was always so nice. One guy was so personable that when he retired, they announced his retirement party in the newspaper, and several hundred of his regular commuters showed up to slap his back and wish him luck.
Now I have EZ-Pass. An electronic box on the windshield that automatically charges me $1 per trip.
At first, even with EZ-Pass, you still had to stop at the booth, and after the toll taker pushed a button to read your box, they'd pass you through, with a wave and a greeting. Less time to smile, but it was still there.
Gradually, the greetings grew less common. I guess because fewer and fewer people bothered to roll their window down when they stopped for the reading.
Now they've replaced most of the manned booths with unmanned booths that read the box. No stopping, no greeting, no toll taker. All very impersonal. (And apparently more expensive than paying a toll taker's salary.)
It's all so dry. So blah.
I suppose I could go through the one remaining manned booth and pay a dollar cash, but even there something has changed. The toll takers not only no longer greet you, they don't even LOOK at you. Somehow that's worse.
I miss the old toll takers, and the way they could brighten the commute.
Since 9/11/01, since there has been an influx of NYC escapees, since it has been getting increasingly crowded around here, since the traffic has gotten heavier, there's been a change in the way people relate to one another, and this toll taker thing is but a tiny piece of the larger shift.
I don't like it.
Now I have EZ-Pass. An electronic box on the windshield that automatically charges me $1 per trip.
At first, even with EZ-Pass, you still had to stop at the booth, and after the toll taker pushed a button to read your box, they'd pass you through, with a wave and a greeting. Less time to smile, but it was still there.
Gradually, the greetings grew less common. I guess because fewer and fewer people bothered to roll their window down when they stopped for the reading.
Now they've replaced most of the manned booths with unmanned booths that read the box. No stopping, no greeting, no toll taker. All very impersonal. (And apparently more expensive than paying a toll taker's salary.)
It's all so dry. So blah.
I suppose I could go through the one remaining manned booth and pay a dollar cash, but even there something has changed. The toll takers not only no longer greet you, they don't even LOOK at you. Somehow that's worse.
I miss the old toll takers, and the way they could brighten the commute.
Since 9/11/01, since there has been an influx of NYC escapees, since it has been getting increasingly crowded around here, since the traffic has gotten heavier, there's been a change in the way people relate to one another, and this toll taker thing is but a tiny piece of the larger shift.
I don't like it.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
#629 Feelin' Groovy 2
I'm psychic! I got a note from the future co-mother-in-law to whom I had sent the silk veil. She has the hip scarf from Rakkasah, which is orange (I had forgotten what color it was), and she has purchased some other bits of practice costume, all in shades of brown and orange. The veil I selected to send to her is copper, orange, and yellow! I hope it will go beautifully with her other stuff, and will pick up the color of her hair. Wow. And to think I almost chose a red one.
I am so pleased!
The second dumpster has been picked up. I didn't think it would be as heavy as the first load, because this one has a lot less glossy paper and a lot more cardboard. But this load also came out to 1.5 tons (3,000 lbs). I forgot there was wood, metal, and huge old computer tape reels in this load, all of which is also heavy. That's 7,300 lbs of trash I've carried out, all by myself.
I am so proud!
I chatted quite a bit with the guy who came for the dumpster. His son, it turns out, is a roofer. So I'm getting another estimate on the roof on Saturday. He'll also give me an estimate for installing an exhaust fan in the attic, which will help the air conditioning situation enormously. Progress is being made, and I didn't even have to do anything for it.
I am so fortunate!
I found the mini-cycle that I had bought to exercise Jay that last year, when he was immobile. It's pedals on a small wheel, that you set up in front of a wheelchair or on a table to exercise legs or arms. It has a band that you tighten or loosen to adjust the tension. Jay was never really able to use it. I have set it up under the computer desk, and as I sit here, I'm pedaling like mad.
I am so virtuous!
I am so pleased!
The second dumpster has been picked up. I didn't think it would be as heavy as the first load, because this one has a lot less glossy paper and a lot more cardboard. But this load also came out to 1.5 tons (3,000 lbs). I forgot there was wood, metal, and huge old computer tape reels in this load, all of which is also heavy. That's 7,300 lbs of trash I've carried out, all by myself.
I am so proud!
I chatted quite a bit with the guy who came for the dumpster. His son, it turns out, is a roofer. So I'm getting another estimate on the roof on Saturday. He'll also give me an estimate for installing an exhaust fan in the attic, which will help the air conditioning situation enormously. Progress is being made, and I didn't even have to do anything for it.
I am so fortunate!
I found the mini-cycle that I had bought to exercise Jay that last year, when he was immobile. It's pedals on a small wheel, that you set up in front of a wheelchair or on a table to exercise legs or arms. It has a band that you tighten or loosen to adjust the tension. Jay was never really able to use it. I have set it up under the computer desk, and as I sit here, I'm pedaling like mad.
I am so virtuous!
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
#628 Feelin' Groovy
Missed yesterday's entry, because I was pretty busy.
I've got Piper and Roman together. Piper is a computer klutz, doesn't even know how to get to his email. Roman teaches computer stuff, and he's very good at it. So they had their first tutoring session yesterday afternoon, in Piper's office. I stopped in to see how they were getting along, and then left them to it.
Roman knows that Piper knows about my trials and tribulations with him, but he doesn't know how much Piper knows, or what he thinks about it. Piper knows that Roman knows that Piper knows. Roman knows that Piper is (or was) sort of interested in me. They have each assured me they won't say anything untoward. I can't stop giggling.
I had spent the morning doing some more basement stuff, stopped in to see how Piper and Roman were doing (and it was funny - while I was there, the phone rang, Piper answered it, and he said "She's standing here right now", and Roman and I looked at each other like "what? who? another one? who knows I'm here?" It was The Angel, Piper's cohort, who is doing my taxes. He's worried that I'll have sticker shock when he tells me how much estimated taxes I'll have to pay each quarter because of all the capital gains I'll have this year.)
After he had finished with Piper, Roman came here and admired the daffodils, and admired more how much progress I'd made in the basement, and when he saw the dirt that came out of the kitchen faucet, he changed the water filter for me! Wow! It wasn't easy. The threads were all coated with hard water salts, and it took some muscle to get it loose. Then we went out to dinner. (I did offer to cook, but he wanted to go out.) The first restaurant we went to was a bit of a drive, and was closed (the sign on the door indicated it should be open, but ...), so we ended up back in the village. The drive out and back was nice, because he had a comedy CD from our college years, and we laughed together a lot.
After we'd finished eating, we sat at the table for more than an hour just talking. It was really nice. We came back here for ice cream, talked some more, and he left a few minutes after 10. It's almost like we're starting over, and I like it. It's frustrating in a certain way, but without that certain thing, I don't feel used or taken advantage of, and I kind of like the feeling of being explored and courted. Like he has no other reason to spend time with me except - to spend time with me. That's not a bad thing.
(Of course, the devil in me is thinking that he doesn't need that certain thing from me, he's getting that elsewhere, and maybe what he's really doing is being faithful to her, and he's actually trying to let me down gently, and .... I've got to stop thinking like that! That way be dragons!)
(And yeah, I said I wasn't going to mention him any more, but it's just too large a part of my life to ignore or gloss over. The situation is where I am right now, and that's that.)
Today I kind of floated around. I selected a hand-painted silk veil from my stock to send to my soon-to-be co-mother-in-law, packed it up, and sent it to her in California by overnight mail. She had attended Rakkasah with me last fall, and got all excited about belly dance lessons. I gifted her with a hip scarf in exchange for a promise that she'd sign up for lessons when she got back to Ca. (and after Rakkasah had long worn off), and she did. She and a friend went to their first lesson last Monday evening, expecting to feel old and fat and clumsy, and it turns out that she absolutely loves it! (Heh heh. I knew she would. Apparently she lucked out and found an instructor who knows how to make it fun. It's all about how you feel moving, not what you look like. (Besides which, she's in terrific shape.))
The carting company called, and they sorta want their container back, so I spent the rest of the day throwing the last bits in. The final load was the dead humidifiers. They'll pick it all up tomorrow. There's at least one more container load to go, but that stuff is scattered all over the house, so ... maybe at the end of the summer, after I pull it all together.
And, I am now in email conversations with three online matches. Yes, I am worried that I may be toying with them. But I need something in reserve, in case, you know ... them dragons what might be there.
I've got Piper and Roman together. Piper is a computer klutz, doesn't even know how to get to his email. Roman teaches computer stuff, and he's very good at it. So they had their first tutoring session yesterday afternoon, in Piper's office. I stopped in to see how they were getting along, and then left them to it.
Roman knows that Piper knows about my trials and tribulations with him, but he doesn't know how much Piper knows, or what he thinks about it. Piper knows that Roman knows that Piper knows. Roman knows that Piper is (or was) sort of interested in me. They have each assured me they won't say anything untoward. I can't stop giggling.
I had spent the morning doing some more basement stuff, stopped in to see how Piper and Roman were doing (and it was funny - while I was there, the phone rang, Piper answered it, and he said "She's standing here right now", and Roman and I looked at each other like "what? who? another one? who knows I'm here?" It was The Angel, Piper's cohort, who is doing my taxes. He's worried that I'll have sticker shock when he tells me how much estimated taxes I'll have to pay each quarter because of all the capital gains I'll have this year.)
After he had finished with Piper, Roman came here and admired the daffodils, and admired more how much progress I'd made in the basement, and when he saw the dirt that came out of the kitchen faucet, he changed the water filter for me! Wow! It wasn't easy. The threads were all coated with hard water salts, and it took some muscle to get it loose. Then we went out to dinner. (I did offer to cook, but he wanted to go out.) The first restaurant we went to was a bit of a drive, and was closed (the sign on the door indicated it should be open, but ...), so we ended up back in the village. The drive out and back was nice, because he had a comedy CD from our college years, and we laughed together a lot.
After we'd finished eating, we sat at the table for more than an hour just talking. It was really nice. We came back here for ice cream, talked some more, and he left a few minutes after 10. It's almost like we're starting over, and I like it. It's frustrating in a certain way, but without that certain thing, I don't feel used or taken advantage of, and I kind of like the feeling of being explored and courted. Like he has no other reason to spend time with me except - to spend time with me. That's not a bad thing.
(Of course, the devil in me is thinking that he doesn't need that certain thing from me, he's getting that elsewhere, and maybe what he's really doing is being faithful to her, and he's actually trying to let me down gently, and .... I've got to stop thinking like that! That way be dragons!)
(And yeah, I said I wasn't going to mention him any more, but it's just too large a part of my life to ignore or gloss over. The situation is where I am right now, and that's that.)
Today I kind of floated around. I selected a hand-painted silk veil from my stock to send to my soon-to-be co-mother-in-law, packed it up, and sent it to her in California by overnight mail. She had attended Rakkasah with me last fall, and got all excited about belly dance lessons. I gifted her with a hip scarf in exchange for a promise that she'd sign up for lessons when she got back to Ca. (and after Rakkasah had long worn off), and she did. She and a friend went to their first lesson last Monday evening, expecting to feel old and fat and clumsy, and it turns out that she absolutely loves it! (Heh heh. I knew she would. Apparently she lucked out and found an instructor who knows how to make it fun. It's all about how you feel moving, not what you look like. (Besides which, she's in terrific shape.))
The carting company called, and they sorta want their container back, so I spent the rest of the day throwing the last bits in. The final load was the dead humidifiers. They'll pick it all up tomorrow. There's at least one more container load to go, but that stuff is scattered all over the house, so ... maybe at the end of the summer, after I pull it all together.
And, I am now in email conversations with three online matches. Yes, I am worried that I may be toying with them. But I need something in reserve, in case, you know ... them dragons what might be there.
Monday, April 03, 2006
#627 Running in Place
Another mostly wasted day, as far as the house is concerned, anyway.
Something went wrong with my Netscape this morning. I could get to websites, but I couldn't click on any links in pages and expect to go anywhere. Like, nothing happened. Which wouldn't have been so very bad, except that I had some bills and other stuff that HAD to be done online TODAY.
I shut Netscape down and tried to bring it back up, and it wouldn't start again at all. So I went to Explorer, and that worked, but then I discovered that with pure Explorer, I had no bookmarks, and no automatically filled in passwords. Ack! I'm supposed to know this stuff?
AOL was no help - no bookmarks (not the businessy ones), Internet through AOL is slow, and navigation is painful. (Note to self - when I finally get a working printer, print off the flippin' bookmarks list.)
So what with trying to figure out what went wrong, searching for updates, shutting down and restarting (believe it or not, IPLing this dog takes at least 12 minutes), digging up website names and passwords, it took me four hours to simply transfer money to pay the car insurance, and paying it.
That used up the morning.
Afternoon, I stopped by the spa to pay for this month, and get weighed and measured. Even though I hadn't been in there in more than two weeks because of the basement work and other scheduling problems, I have lost more weight and more inches. I can see it myself - the pants I'm wearing right now are sagging at the waist, and I have to roll them twice because they mysteriously got too long.
Then I took the flat tire to Mavis. They were willing to plug the hole (it was exactly on the line between tread and sidewall) but strongly recommended against it. Given that if it blew, it would happen suddenly, on the road, and I'd have to change it myself, probably at night, I waffled. (I need someone I can call when crap like that happens. Another reason to expand beyond elderly female friends and Roman. I can't get help from them.) I had bought the tires on sale, and had got like 30% off, so I asked if they'd sell me another tire at the same price as the original, and they said yes, so that's what I did.
** On the expanding contacts front, I forgot to mention what I did at the volunteer fair on Saturday. I signed up for RSVP (Retired Seniors Volunteer Program), where they farm folks out where needed, and a program where you advocate for children in family court cases (which really interests me, but it could be too consuming, we'll see), and Habitat for Humanity. **
By the time I'd made a couple more stops, it was after 5 pm. Blew the whole day again.
During the evening, Netscape mysteriously fixed itself. I'm beginning to think the problem was not with Netscape, but with the folks I dial into. The line had dropped before I left the house, and when I got home and dialed in again, and tried Netscape, everything was just hunky-dory.
I don't understand.
Something went wrong with my Netscape this morning. I could get to websites, but I couldn't click on any links in pages and expect to go anywhere. Like, nothing happened. Which wouldn't have been so very bad, except that I had some bills and other stuff that HAD to be done online TODAY.
I shut Netscape down and tried to bring it back up, and it wouldn't start again at all. So I went to Explorer, and that worked, but then I discovered that with pure Explorer, I had no bookmarks, and no automatically filled in passwords. Ack! I'm supposed to know this stuff?
AOL was no help - no bookmarks (not the businessy ones), Internet through AOL is slow, and navigation is painful. (Note to self - when I finally get a working printer, print off the flippin' bookmarks list.)
So what with trying to figure out what went wrong, searching for updates, shutting down and restarting (believe it or not, IPLing this dog takes at least 12 minutes), digging up website names and passwords, it took me four hours to simply transfer money to pay the car insurance, and paying it.
That used up the morning.
Afternoon, I stopped by the spa to pay for this month, and get weighed and measured. Even though I hadn't been in there in more than two weeks because of the basement work and other scheduling problems, I have lost more weight and more inches. I can see it myself - the pants I'm wearing right now are sagging at the waist, and I have to roll them twice because they mysteriously got too long.
Then I took the flat tire to Mavis. They were willing to plug the hole (it was exactly on the line between tread and sidewall) but strongly recommended against it. Given that if it blew, it would happen suddenly, on the road, and I'd have to change it myself, probably at night, I waffled. (I need someone I can call when crap like that happens. Another reason to expand beyond elderly female friends and Roman. I can't get help from them.) I had bought the tires on sale, and had got like 30% off, so I asked if they'd sell me another tire at the same price as the original, and they said yes, so that's what I did.
** On the expanding contacts front, I forgot to mention what I did at the volunteer fair on Saturday. I signed up for RSVP (Retired Seniors Volunteer Program), where they farm folks out where needed, and a program where you advocate for children in family court cases (which really interests me, but it could be too consuming, we'll see), and Habitat for Humanity. **
By the time I'd made a couple more stops, it was after 5 pm. Blew the whole day again.
During the evening, Netscape mysteriously fixed itself. I'm beginning to think the problem was not with Netscape, but with the folks I dial into. The line had dropped before I left the house, and when I got home and dialed in again, and tried Netscape, everything was just hunky-dory.
I don't understand.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
#626 Flat Tire, Flat Day, Flat Blah
Remember those new tires I bought three months minus two days ago? The ones where I didn't buy the extended warranty, because it cost as much as a new tire and I couldn't see that I'd really need it? Yeah, them?
Well, I got up and dressed and out the door this morning to meet the blind date for brunch (let's call him Dreyfuss, 'cause that's who he looks sorta like), and I didn't get out of the driveway. Flat tire. Yippee. I called his cell phone and left a message, then went to work on the tire. I got the spare out (a full-sized regular tire, thank goodness), got the van up on the jack, and then got stuck. I couldn't get the hub cover off. Not without hurting it real bad. I knew darn well I wouldn't be able to get the nuts off (why oh why do they put them on so tight?). And then on a hunch I checked the pressure in the spare - 15 psi. Should be 35. Razzelfrats! I gave up and called the Hairless Hunk.
He said he'd be over as soon as his wife got back from Poughkeepsie, about two hours. So I stayed by the phone in case he called. Six hours later.... The tire has a nice big nail in it, right in the side kind of between the tread and the sidewall, like where the tread is on its way to becoming sidewall. So the regular warranty won't apply. The Hunk says that Mavis isn't going to want to plug it because they'll say it's sidewall, but that I should argue with them and insist it's tread. If I win and they plug it, I should have them put that tire on the rear, and move the rear tire to the front (it's front-wheel drive).
My original plan for the day was to meet Dreyfuss in the morning, be home by early afternoon and work in the basement. I want to sweep and clean, and rearrange what's left down there so I can start moving storage containers down from upstairs. Rain is predicted for the next two days, and Roman is visiting Tuesday, and I wanted to be able to demonstrate SOME progress. So it looks like most of that got blown, too.
After The Hunk left, I called Dreyfuss. He never got the message I'd left on his phone. He said he had two messages, but mine wasn't one of them. So he thought he got stood up. Sheesh. I don't know whether he believes me about the tire or not. Three non-Roman dates in the past two months, and I've managed to piss all of them off, and all of it because of outside influences. Is Fate trying to tell me something? So, anyway, we've rescheduled for next Sunday.
To tell the truth, I don't really want to meet this guy, but I feel like I have to. I need to spread out and check out all the available local manpower. Otherwise I'm putting all my energy on Roman, and then when he doesn't call for a week, or has no time for me for two weeks, that makes me sad. And mad, because I feel like I'm wasting time. There isn't all that much time left. Women lose value fast. I do understand his class schedule makes things difficult. He wants me to wait, but mostly I don't feel like he's trying very hard. Maybe he is, but I'm not seeing it.
I need to feel like I'm trying, at least. Like I'm taking care of myself and my future, and not just wasting time. But it's probably an empty exercise, because I know who I want. At the same time, I need some appreciation. I want someone to flatter and pursue me. I need some validation. On the other hand, I am very much afraid that one of these new guys is going to develop a crush on me and I won't be able to get rid of him, and he will accuse me of toying with his affections, and that will hurt me, because ---- he'd be right. Maybe I'm not ready for this yet. I don't know.
Off to the basement. At least it's been warm lately. The daffodils have started blooming, and the underbrush in the woods is sprouting leaves. A pair of finches have taken over the porch light, and they seem very happy and excited. They sing and chirp to each other constantly, and they're never more than three feet apart. Spring love.
Sigh.
Well, I got up and dressed and out the door this morning to meet the blind date for brunch (let's call him Dreyfuss, 'cause that's who he looks sorta like), and I didn't get out of the driveway. Flat tire. Yippee. I called his cell phone and left a message, then went to work on the tire. I got the spare out (a full-sized regular tire, thank goodness), got the van up on the jack, and then got stuck. I couldn't get the hub cover off. Not without hurting it real bad. I knew darn well I wouldn't be able to get the nuts off (why oh why do they put them on so tight?). And then on a hunch I checked the pressure in the spare - 15 psi. Should be 35. Razzelfrats! I gave up and called the Hairless Hunk.
He said he'd be over as soon as his wife got back from Poughkeepsie, about two hours. So I stayed by the phone in case he called. Six hours later.... The tire has a nice big nail in it, right in the side kind of between the tread and the sidewall, like where the tread is on its way to becoming sidewall. So the regular warranty won't apply. The Hunk says that Mavis isn't going to want to plug it because they'll say it's sidewall, but that I should argue with them and insist it's tread. If I win and they plug it, I should have them put that tire on the rear, and move the rear tire to the front (it's front-wheel drive).
My original plan for the day was to meet Dreyfuss in the morning, be home by early afternoon and work in the basement. I want to sweep and clean, and rearrange what's left down there so I can start moving storage containers down from upstairs. Rain is predicted for the next two days, and Roman is visiting Tuesday, and I wanted to be able to demonstrate SOME progress. So it looks like most of that got blown, too.
After The Hunk left, I called Dreyfuss. He never got the message I'd left on his phone. He said he had two messages, but mine wasn't one of them. So he thought he got stood up. Sheesh. I don't know whether he believes me about the tire or not. Three non-Roman dates in the past two months, and I've managed to piss all of them off, and all of it because of outside influences. Is Fate trying to tell me something? So, anyway, we've rescheduled for next Sunday.
To tell the truth, I don't really want to meet this guy, but I feel like I have to. I need to spread out and check out all the available local manpower. Otherwise I'm putting all my energy on Roman, and then when he doesn't call for a week, or has no time for me for two weeks, that makes me sad. And mad, because I feel like I'm wasting time. There isn't all that much time left. Women lose value fast. I do understand his class schedule makes things difficult. He wants me to wait, but mostly I don't feel like he's trying very hard. Maybe he is, but I'm not seeing it.
I need to feel like I'm trying, at least. Like I'm taking care of myself and my future, and not just wasting time. But it's probably an empty exercise, because I know who I want. At the same time, I need some appreciation. I want someone to flatter and pursue me. I need some validation. On the other hand, I am very much afraid that one of these new guys is going to develop a crush on me and I won't be able to get rid of him, and he will accuse me of toying with his affections, and that will hurt me, because ---- he'd be right. Maybe I'm not ready for this yet. I don't know.
Off to the basement. At least it's been warm lately. The daffodils have started blooming, and the underbrush in the woods is sprouting leaves. A pair of finches have taken over the porch light, and they seem very happy and excited. They sing and chirp to each other constantly, and they're never more than three feet apart. Spring love.
Sigh.
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